The Dark Expanse
Chapter 1: The Golden One
The room was a perfect square, and she didn’t need a ruler to know that. A casual scan up, down, and around the stiff concrete walls was enough to tell her that this was not a place one would wish to be and that she was in deep trouble. Aurie wasn’t sure what law she had broken that would’ve warranted her presence in this stone purgatory. But when the Secretary-General’s private mages ‘requested’ that she accompany them, well, any sane person would not dare defy them. Aurie knew that she was a powerful mage in her own right, which might have been enough to have resisted, but she didn’t fancy herself as being the suicidal type that actively defied legal orders. After all, they were all on the same side, right?
There was no clock, nor any other means by which to distinguish the passage of time. However, her delicate ears could pick up the faint background noise of an air conditioner clattering against loose screws. It seemed to almost beat in time with her slow breaths; in and out, one after another. Casually, her left leg started to slowly patter to this almost invisible tune as she leaned back into a wooden chair. Click-clack her left foot echoed, her hands clenched together in her lap as her brown eyes slowly traced the wooden grain of the desk in front of her. The desk was set up in the exact center of the room and it was not some cheap decoration for a simple prison; its surface was polished with a razor-sharp shine that no living person would ever be capable of duplicating by hand.
Aurie studied her reflection in the mirror-like polish; lazy reddish-brown locks sat atop a relatively young face with eyes that belonged on a Terran four times her age. Eyes that wanted to tell a hundred different stories. She quickly looked away, growing uncomfortable and bored at the sight. Instead, she absentmindedly ran her hands down her navy blue dress, with two black stripes around her midsection. While she couldn't feel any wrinkles or dirt it didn’t stop her from trying to dust some imaginary dirt off of her shoulders and chest. The simple act was somewhat comforting and after a few moments, her hands returned to her lap as she patiently waited for someone to explain why she had been brought here.
She did not have to wait long as the sound of a lock being turned echoed through the room, and a door that had seemed invisible against the concrete wall opened outward. The blue light that shined into the room gave Aurie a small sense of comfort as it indicated that a state of emergency had not been declared and that things were relatively secure. Yet, this small avenue of comfort was fleeting as a man quickly entered the room.
He was a big man, around six foot five, and he towered over her modest five and one. His face had an expression cut from marble and was dressed in the full military uniform of a naval officer. His lapel was decorated with the golden rectangle and three golden stripes of a commander. Aurie felt a twinge of jealousy as she only had the two stripes of a captain proudly displayed on her collar. But, these concerns were swiftly overshadowed at the sight of the 9mm rail pistol on the man's hip. In his left hand was a leather satchel that was weighed down with pounds of reports and other proprietary information that was possibly several security levels above what Aurie was permitted to see.
“Name and rank?” The man casually asked as he unfolded a chair that he had carried in his right hand. As he sat down, he didn’t bother to look Aurie in the face as he roughly swung his satchel onto the desk.
“You already know my name.” She spoke through terse lips while searching for some identifying mark on the man. Yet, his uniform had no nametag, nor did his face seem all that memorable. Even as she tried to focus on his face it seemed to shift and distort ever so slightly; which was an immediate red flag.
“ID scrambler,” she realized, “Black ops…” the bottom of her stomach fell out. Yet she remained in her chair, sitting absolutely still as her brain processed numerous ways in which to quickly and cleanly kill this man, but only if such an action should prove necessary.
The naval officer extracted a brown manila envelope from his satchel and wordlessly began to parse through the paperwork inside it. Reading over every single page as if they contained the secrets of the universe within the ink. Aurie kept her breath measured, pretending to not pay attention to the man anymore. Keeping him inside her peripheral while she attempted to determine if there were hidden cameras in the room or even a fake wall with a window behind it. She hadn’t spotted anything, but her gut told her that they were being watched.
“Name and rank?” the commander asked again, but this time he looked up with an expression that promised punishment if Aurie didn’t respond immediately.
“Captain Aurie Michele Burke.” She finally surrendered, “serial number 2216862.” That’s what the service had always taught her; if the enemy interrogates you, only give your name, rank, and serial number.
“Hmm,” the man intoned, seemingly bored, “time of service?” He had expected more, and as loath as she was to cooperate with the spook, she knew she would never leave this room again unless she cooperated.
“Current, mandatory assignment to the Psi Omega division as mage first-class. My commission was accepted on December 27th, 2968. After the attack…” Aurie replied mechanically, and then stopped before she gave away too much. The man looked up and seemed to regard her with a modicum of respect, but it was fleeting.
“Yes, your file mentions the Red Christmas massacre, correct?” He replied as he placed a single page down on the desk and pushed it towards her. Aurie didn’t have to read it to know what it said. No way she couldn’t help but notice the damning words that had been written in red ink and underlined. Her fists clenched in silent rage, not at the man specifically, but towards the Abyssians.
The two Terrans stared at each other for several tense seconds, neither one willing to elaborate further.
“My apologies.” The commander suddenly raised a hand in apology, yet Aurie didn’t believe for a second that he was sincere. “Your file also says you were awarded the Purple Heart as well as a silver medal for val…”
“Just get to the fucking point!” Aurie snapped.
“Captain,” the man casually tossed his paperwork aside, unfazed at her sudden outburst. He then leaned forward with his hands crossed, “the Secretary-General has personally requested your assistance with a problem of a ‘sensitive’ nature.”
“That’s rather vague and unhelpful,” Aurie stood up from her seat; the click-clack of her feet echoing in the room while her fists continued to flex in anger. “If this has something to do with the Abyssians...”
“No,” the man calmly corrected, “it concerns the Equestrians.”
“The ponies?” Aurie felt her mental train derail at that very moment. If the man had grown three extra heads it would’ve made more sense than what he had just said to her. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she attempted to come up with some sort of coherent response.
“We haven’t had contact with them in nearly three millennia,” was the best she could muster, “why change that now?”
“There has been a development,” the man looked off to the side, as if listening to some invisible voice, “Military Intelligence has received reports that the ponies have become a threat to us again. That they have grown too powerful, too fast, and we can’t afford to ignore them any longer.” The man let out an audible sigh as he reached into his satchel and pulled out another file.
“By reports you mean any pony that happens to land on our shore. Where they are then ‘disappeared’ by spooks like you.” It wasn’t a question and Aurie didn’t particularly care what happened to those ponies, no Terran did. It just seemed odd that the officer would try to cover it up. The fate of any pony appearing in Terran lands was an open secret after all.
“The Secretary-General has commissioned an overt operation into Equestria,” he tossed the file onto the table.
“The only ‘operation’ we need,” Aurie air-quoted, “is to nuke them all back into the primordial ooze.” She declared before picking up the file. Aurie’s expression grew more and more grim as she worked her way down the text. There was the mission statement, operational protocols, budget, and equipment inventory, among many other things, were listed in the dossier. It all seemed reasonable and straightforward until she considered exactly where she was going.
“You can’t be serious.” She slammed the file back down. “Los Pegasus?”
“The city of sin,” the man nodded, “circuses, rides, casinos, gambling, prostitution; it's all there. More importantly, dozens of species are known to visit there. Griffons, Changelings, Dragons, Minotaurs, and even some Zebras and Kirin as well. So a single Terran will not stand out and you should be able to operate freely.” The man grabbed his satchel before idling back towards the room’s entrance. Aurie circled the desk and took a few steps towards him, ready to argue the mission given to her. Yet, the click-clack of her feet was the only sound. Her dress was long enough to mostly conceal them, yet the military officer could easily spot them.
It was known throughout the Terran Nation as the Mage’s curse; as any Terran born with the gift of magic suffered a terrible reality. To cast magic, a mage needed an outlet. Unicorns used their horns, but Terrans had to use their fingers, as well as their toes, to fulfill that need. However, like water flowing out of too many opened valves at once, the magical stream was diminished, weakened, and hard to control.
Aurie, like so many mages before her, had to fix that problem by having their legs severed just above the knee. The prosthetics put in place did not resemble anything natural or even Terran-like. Dark metal was melded to her flesh, artificial knee joints, and below that the legs just tapered off at ‘feet’ that terminated into fine points; tips that were more fitting for the bottom of a dreidel, or that of a doll.
“After three millennia,” Aurie pointed an accusatory finger, “why are we risking revealing ourselves to the ponies now?”
“After our victory over the Abyssians, there are many on the council who feel the time for Terran ascension over the other species should happen now.” The spook said with the same conviction as one who’d memorized a script. “Make no mistake Captain, the Council does not wish for another war, especially with the Equestrians. That is why this mission is of the utmost importance. To discover if peace is an option.” The door to the room opened, but the man hesitated at the threshold, “This is a request from the Secretary-General, not an order. If you wish to decline, there will be no repercussions.” The officer concluded, yet Aurie still didn’t believe a word he said. Every Terran grew up with the old stories that warned about how mercilessly cruel the ponies had been towards the Terran race. True, a lot of things could change in three thousand years, but there were wounds that not even time could heal.
“Los Pegasus is on the other side of Equestria, on the other side from us, and past Griffonstone.” Aurie exhaled heavily, knowing that her duty demanded she accepts. “The file didn’t explain how I am going to get there?”
“We have already prepared a transport for you, along with two fighter escorts, and a detailed flight itinerary.” The man pulled another file out and passed it to Aurie. The details highlighted a super-sonic dropship with an array of PDC defenses and enough space for a dozen Marines. Alongside the transport were two air superiority craft armed to the teeth with missiles and rail guns. “As for the Griffons, don’t worry. They have no unified kingdom or military to speak of, plus we’ve already taken the liberty to…purchase their full cooperation and silence on the matter.”
“There is a lot that can go wrong with this operation. What happens if the ponies aren’t interested in peace? What if I need extraction?”
“Your escort will establish a FOB near the city, out in the undiscovered western territories, and outside the Equestrian border. One call and they can fly in with lethal force to pull you out. Of course, you will have to make a daily check-in, otherwise, they will assume the worst and will extract you by whatever measures necessary. You won’t be left behind.” He added on the last line in a tone that was forcefully optimistic.
“Any other questions?”
“Yes,” she brushed her clothes again, “why me?” The naval officer carefully considered her question for a moment.
“As you said Captain, it's been three thousand years since we’ve had contact with the Equestrians. We are taking a big risk here as, by all accounts, the Equestrians believe our species to be extinct. Any agent we send in, we can’t risk them being captured and interrogated.” The man approached her, his towering height made her feel small, but he spoke with civility to her.
“You proved yourself during the war as an extra-ordinarily powerful mage. Any attempt by the Equestrians to capture you would be very costly for them. Plus you are a patriot, betraying the homeland isn’t in your nature.” If his words were meant to invigorate her, they succeeded. It took all her willpower not to puff out her chest with pride.
“But, the Council hopes that a worst-case scenario can be avoided, that the Equestrians are amenable and willing to talk.”
“And if they aren’t?”
“Then you’ll handle it, and maybe get the chance to nuke Los Pegasus back into the primordial ooze.’ Not an unforeseen contingency since your escorts are being armed for that possibility.”
Aurie sat back down, closed her eyes, and mulled the proposition over. Only the tip-tapping of her metal legs to an unknown beat broke the silence. After a while, she leaned forward and gave the spook a harsh lour; speaking slowly and deliberately.
“I might be open to the idea, with certain assurances that are to be guaranteed in writing.”
“You will have your chance to speak to the Council and the Secretary-General before departure. Any demands on your part you can present to them at that time.” The officer rejoined Aurie at the desk, “In the meantime, I suggest you consider replacing your prosthetics with something more Terran-like.” He gave a tilted smirk, “No need to scare the Equestrians more than necessary.”
“We’ll see.” Aurie returned with a toothy smile, flashing her sharp incisors.
March 22nd, 2973 (Terran Calendar) 08:23 hours
Aurie noted the time and date on her smart tablet, just before her thumb brushed the power button and the screen went dark. Stashing the mini-computer into a hidden pocket inside her robe, she settled back into her chair as the rhythmic rocking of the subway tram threatened to sway her to sleep. The gentle sway of the tram was only broken by the occasional streak of a tunnel light as it sped past.
"Forty-seven, forty-eight..." Aurie counted each one, bored out of her mind. There were several other people in the cabin, but none of them spoke nor paid her any attention. They were all too busy listening to media through headphones or watching the morning news on their tablets.
At the count of fifty, a chime played through the tram’s speakers, announcing their arrival at the next station.
“Next stop, Fairview Junction.” an artificial male voice announced joylessly.
When the tram had come to a complete stop, Aurie approached the doors and then made her way onto the station concourse. Two flights of stairs later, she emerged into Fairview proper. The first thing she noticed was just how colorless and sterile the city was. There were bits of debris and discarded trash here and there, but it was quickly swept up by the garbage collectors.
Where it lacked in the garbage, it made up for it with the smell. The whole city had the distinct scent of body odor, sweat, and vomit. It was not surprising given the closed air systems that most all Terran cities were forced to employ; air filters could only do so much. Aurie only had to look up at the artificial sky, that disguised a concrete ceiling, to remind herself that she was in a subterranean chamber nearly a kilometer below the surface. Twelve million Terrans were all forced into cramped proximity with each other; such was the price to be paid for safety from the outside world. Yet, somehow, the Abyssians had discovered them, fracturing that illusion of safety overnight. Then came the war, and three years later she still had no idea why, or who had started it. She only knew how it had ended and the terrible cost that everyone had paid for it.
“Captain Burke?” a masculine voice suddenly spoke behind her. She swiftly turned and found herself being approached by two Marines; sergeants according to the square pin, that held a single silver chevron, on their lapels. The two of them promptly stopped and presented a clean salute to her.
“That’s me,” She, in turn, returned the salute, “I assume that you’re my escort?” She wasn't surprised to find her senses revealed that neither of the Marines was mage material. Not only did they have all of their fleshy bits intact, but they also lacked the thaumatic aura indicative of magical talent.
“Yes, Ma’am. Please follow us.” The soldiers gestured before hastily marching down an unmarked alley. They were so quick in their stride that Aurie found it difficult to physically keep up. Instead, she decided to follow them magically, by using her prosthetic legs to hover several inches above the ground and float like a ghost. The magical field caused the bottom of her dress to ripple slightly in an artificial wind.
"We were instructed to take you to the armory first. There you will be properly provisioned. After that, we’ll show you to your transport.”
Minutes later the three of them arrived at a door that lead into the back of a brick building. Both the building and the door were unremarkable, completely average in every way except for some spots of discoloration here and there. One of the sergeants peered and studied the alley for any eavesdroppers, while the other one kneeled and placed his left hand against a random brick. A brief flash of ethereal blue light revealed a biometric scanner had been built into the wall itself. A series of clicks followed and then the door had opened to reveal a reinforced plasticrete hallway.
"What are your names?" Aurie asked as the three of them proceeded towards the armory. The door automatically shut behind them with barely a sound.
"I am Sgt. Brady" The darker one said, before pointing to his lighter, and taller, partner, "and that is Sgt. Stiles."
"It's a pleasure, Ma'am," Sgt. Stiles nodded. "to work with someone as famous as you."
"Not if you ask the Abyssians." Aurie brushed her sleeves in discomfort at the compliment. "So what are your assignments?"
"We are both assigned to Bravo squad, and will be accompanying you to Los Pegasus to work on establishing the FOB; along with the members of Alpha." Stiles smiled with youthful exuberance, which Aurie found rather strange since the two of them looked to be no more than two years younger than her. It made her wonder...
"Were either of you in the War?" She felt she already knew the answer.
"No Ma'am, we missed it." Sgt. Brady looked remorseful at that fact. Aurie felt a bit of relief, even if it meant she would be going into Equestria with a couple of rookies watching her back.
"I have to imagine that the Council selected you for this." Aurie inquired, "So you must have impressed someone."
"Yes Ma'am, both of us graduated top of our class" Sgt. Stiles answered, "I'm in charge of heavy weapons and weapons maintenance, and Sgt. Brady is responsible for communications and encryption. Trust me, there is no better cryptologist than Sgt. Brady here."
"Yes Ma'am," Brady could barely contain a smile, "I don't like to brag, but you can be assured that none of your messages will be intercepted by the Equestrians and with Sgt. Stiles, you never have to worry about a weapon breaking or having a misfire."
A few hours later, Aurie was seated in the cabin of the supersonic transport. Ten Marines accompanied her, all of them tall, big, and buff; making it difficult for her not to stare longingly at them. Both Sgt. Brady and Stiles were there, strapped into their harnesses. The cabin was cramped and from here she could easily see into the cockpit as there was no separating door. Aurie was a little short for the harness and it failed to properly secure her in the chair. So she was left to fidget uncomfortably, and not just from a safety concern. The testosterone levels were heavy in the air and she was the only female on board.
Thankfully, her belongings and equipment were safely secured in an overhead compartment so there was no need to worry about falling objects, but she also didn't have easy access to a weapon. If she tried to reach for one she wondered if she might slip out of the harness and free-fall around the cabin like a bouncing ball. Would one of the Marines catch her if she did? Would they embrace her in their strong muscular arms?
"I fucking hate flying." she rubbed her temples, trying to banish the oncoming headache and the hormonal fantasies.
"Hey doll legs, when was the last time you flew coach with us ground pounders?" Another Marine asked, one Corporal Hudson if Aurie remembered correctly.
"None of your goddamn business." she groaned.
"Relax Hudson," Corporal Wierzbowski chuckled, "our tiny frustrated friend is just worried she'll slip out the harness and fall for one of us."
"That or she'll get sucked up into one of the engines." Sgt. Stiles quipped, to the laughter of the other Marines.
"When you all disappear," she growled, "no one will ever find the bodies." Despite her threats, all the men laughed and Aurie couldn't help but grin just a little bit.
Any further conversation was silenced as the engines began to spin up. The idle hum became a living pulse as the transport gave a sudden lurch upwards and began hovering above the deck. The plane then began taxing out of the hanger, rising up and up, until it crossed the threshold from the subterranean and past the planet's surface, going higher still. A moment later the transport shook as Aurie began the long journey towards Equestria.