(Radio log, 2006 hours to 2008 hours, unknown date)

[USS Gerald R. Ford]: Admiral Nakhimov, this is the Gerald R. Ford. We have a visual on your ship. Distance from us is five point eight kilometers, over.

[NRFN Admiral Nakhimov]: Copy Gerald R. Ford, this is Admiral Nakhimov. We are currently eight minutes out. Launching the Helo that the Marine team brought with them to ferry important officials, over.

[USS Gerald R. Ford] *static* Copy Admiral Nakhimov. Clearing the flight deck. Out.

Sokolov walked onto the rear Helo launch pad of the Admiral Nakhimov. To his left was the American pilot and the Marine sergeant, and to his right was Lieutenant Vasilyev. The group walked outside of the small hanger and out onto the deck. The MH-60 had been clipped to the deck: According to several crewmen Sokolov had asked, it was too big to fit in the hanger with the other helicopters the ship had.

The Russian pilot had spent the last two hours going over the systems of the Blackhawk. According to the captain of the American ship, he felt that it was best that it have both a Russian and an American pilot. It was nothing new to Sokolov: The good part was that he spoke English, and the 'Net' system would supplement the information where the crash course had failed.

Both pilots opened the doors to the cockpit of the helicopter, with the American moving into the pilot's seat, and with Sokolov in the co-pilot seat. Vasilyev and the American sergeant, meanwhile, opened the side door and stepped inside, waiting for their other passengers.

Two minutes later, with Sokolov and the American having completed all of the pre-flight takeoff checklists, and having started the engines, Captain 1st Rank Volkov of the Admiral Nakhimov stepped out onto the deck. With the Gerald R. Ford being the largest ship in the area, as well as being a flagship with the United States Navy, it had been decided to hold all meetings between the various commanders that had been contacted on the aircraft carrier.

"Ready?" Vasilyev asked Volkov.

"I am ready." The captain replied.

Together, they closed the side door, shielding the inside of the helicopter from the spray that was being blown from the water onto the flight deck. Grey clouds crowded the sky, casting the water into a dark blue gloom. Slowly, Sokolov and the American pilot pushed up the throttle, causing the helicopter to slowly lift into the air. It rotated towards the dark grey ship four kilometers away: The aircraft carrier.

"How many units have been found?" Vasilyev asked the captain once they were going.

"Not too many." Volkov replied. "I will give the full list at the meeting."

The only sound in the crew compartment was the steady thrum of the helicopter rotors. After three minutes in the air, the helicopter began to descend, before it touched down with a small jolt. Opening the door, Vasilyev could see the flight deck crew, wearing everything from a bright green, to a yellow, and sometimes white, running along the deck, with several ones in blue shirts running up to the helicopter, with one in yellow apparently signaling for it to shut off.

"Sirs!" One of them said as he ran up, saluting. "Captain wants you on the bridge ASAP. Follow me." With that, the crewman started to walk across the deck, leading Vasilyev and Volkov, along with the two pilots, to the tower at the left side of the ship. Multiple aircraft were being stored on the deck: The most obvious being an entire flight of F/A-18 Super Hornets, with live ordinance on them.

Vasilyev looked forward as they walked into the superstructure, noting the fact that the crew's glanced seemed to linger on them. The group walked up several flights of stairs (or ladders, as the crewman they were following called them). They took several turns when they reached the top of the stairs, ending up in a large room, with windows running along three sides, that looked over the entire flight deck. Dozens of screens lined the walls and the center, while the room itself was very dark, the lights dimmed to a dull blue. Several large screens stood in the center, displaying information on a clear LCD screen.

In the center a man stood, waiting for them. With the minimal lighting, it was hard to see the details on his face, but it was clear he was the Captain.

"We are here." Vasilyev stated.

"So you are." Captain Henderson said, motioning for them to come by the screen he was looking at. It displayed all the known radar data for the area, including the view through the Admiral Nakhimov's link. "Now, can you tell me what the hell is going on here?"

"We don't know, not really." The American sergeant said. "First Sergeant James Anderson, United States Marines. We ended up here about three days ago, after the assault on Moscow. A Trinity device detonated in the center of Moscow, causing us to black out and wake up here. We had been flying patrols in our Blackhawk for two days, and it was early morning yesterday that we found the Russians, right in the center of some city or castle on the side of a mountain."

There was a short pause in the conversation before Captain Henderson spoke up. "A Castle on the side of a mountain? Just where the hell are we, Sergeant?"

"Not on Earth." The Sergeant replied. "The land we have seen so far has been populated by some sort of sentient pony. At least, that is what they call themselves. You're best off asking the Russians: They've had the most contact with them."

Captain Henderson turned towards Vasilyev. "Your turn."

Vasilyev picked up the conversation quickly. "We found ourselves here three days ago. We were also in the assault on Moscow. When Trinity went off, our Mi-24 was thrown to the ground, and we woke up in a forest, in our overturned helicopter. We quickly set out to the north, sighting a town. We discovered it was populated with sentient pones, and observed them for a day. When night fell on the second day, we were almost discovered by what we assumed was their military. We bypassed them and hijacked a train headed north, towards their capital

"We proceeded to infiltrate the city and their castle, and warned their leader, at least that is who we assumed it was, that any further attempts at trying to follow us would be useless. We went outside into a garden and found the marine team, who picked us up. By early morning, we had flown a fair distance to the west."

"So." Captain Henderson stated. "You hijacked a train in the middle of the night, and proceeded to threaten the leader of possibly the only life here. Do go on."

"We started to head south when we encountered a city by an ocean, where we found that a sizeable number of guards were in the air, following us. Also, the ponies have three types that we noticed: Ones with horns, ones with wings, and ones without either. The presumed leader had both."

"Unicorns and pegasi. Cute." One of the techs manning a console next to them said. "Next, you'll be telling us they have control over the universe or some shit."

Vasilyev ignored him and continued. "After we passed another city, we had around a hundred of them chasing us. Several caught up to us and ordered us to land and be arrested, and we, of course, refused. When one of them opened fired on us with a crossbow, we retaliated with nonlethal rounds. We headed out over water and onto an island, landing in a clearing in a forest in order to confront our chasers. We were forced to use live rounds after our attempts at negotiation failed."

"You said that they said something to you." Captain Henderson interrupted. "How did you understand them."

"They speak English." Vasilyev replied.

A dead silence settled over the room.

"Explain." Captain Henderson ordered after several seconds.

"They speak English." Vasilyev repeated. "We don't know how, or why, but they do. One even had one of your southern American accents, if you can believe it."

A moment passed, and then another, before a sailor expressed their thoughts with a muttered 'Goddamn'.

"Once we were forced to kill many of our pursuers, we lifted off again, and went out over the island again, headed south. We encountered a city just as the next force of the fliers caught up with us, forcing us into a small battle over the city. We presume civilian casualties to be minimal." Vasilyev noted in a dry voice. "We then continued south-east, headed over the mainland, before we landed in a stretch of forest. Sergeant Anderson?" Vasilyev said, motioning for the American to pick up the conversation.

"We landed in the forest and rested for perhaps an hour before the next event struck." Sergeant Anderson said.

"Of course." Captain Henderson deadpanned.

Sergeant Anderson continued. "We found a home being attacked by what we assumed, and alter found out, were bandits of some type. We neutralized the attackers and saved two ponies, who chose to go with us rather than risk any more bandits. One was wounded. After that, we found a radio signal that led us to contact the Russian vessel. Captain Volkov, it's your turn."

Volkov nodded and picked up the conversation. "A day ago, we picked them up. Afterwards, there was sixteen hour delay between them landing and our contact with you. And here we are."

"And here we are." Captain Henderson echoed. "As far as I can see, you've managed to make several blunders within a relatively short time. However, going by your account, it is very likely they would have been hostile, or partially so, from the start. We just have to hope we can make peace at some point, because if we are truly in another world, then we're not going to get very far without it. You said you have two ponies?"

Vasilyev nodded. "They are currently on the Admiral Nakhimov with the rest of my squad and the Sergeant's."

"Good." Captain Henderson said. "That might strengthen our negotiating position. Right now, we need a place on land to form up whatever we can find."

"We'll send you our radar data from the Blackhawk." Sokolov said.

"What units have you found so far, Captain Volkov?" Vasilyev asked the Russian captain.

There was a brief delay as Volkov put on a pair of 'Net' glasses that he had in one of his pockets. They lit up as Volkov started to go over information, and the display next to them quickly changed into a list.

"So far, we have had over a dozen contacts." Volkov started. "First one of note is the Admiral Kuznetson. It is a nuclear Aircraft Carrier that was sunk in the same battle as my ship. It is currently to the south of our position."

"I can continue from here, Captain." Henderson said. "Next up seems to be the USS Lake Erie. It's a Ticonderoga-class Cruiser out of Norfolk." He looked to the side of the display to read something. "Apparently, they were sunk by a mine early in the war. After that is the USS Halsey and USS Spruance. Both are Arleigh Burke-class Guided Missile Destroyers, and both are in the same area as your aircraft carrier.

"After that is a Norwegian Fridtjof Nansen-class Frigate, the Otto Sverdrup. There is a Russian Federation Sovremenny-class Destroyer. There are three Svetlyak-class Patrol Boats to the south-east of us, along the coast of a desert-like region. Another Russian Federation Mistral-class Amphibian Assault Ship, the Sevastopol, is with the patrol boats.

"There is a United States Army battalion in the desert to the south-east, along with a regiment of the Russian Federation and a company from the United Kingdom. And that is all that we have located on the high-band within several hundred miles."

"So it is likely that those are the entirety of the Human presence, wherever we are." Vasilyev noted after five seconds of silence.

Captain Volkov nodded. "It is very likely to be the truth. Once we get all of the units synced up into the 'Net', which shall be within the next two hours, we will search for a rally point for any friendlies on the planet. Until then, Captain Henderson, you may communicate with any unit by relaying a radio signal through the Admiral Nakhimov."

With that, Volkov strode out of the room, headed for the flight deck. Vasilyev and the two pilots followed close behind, ready to return to the former New Russian Federation ship.

They walked out onto the slick flight deck, watching as several sailors in blue jackets finished disconnecting fuel nozzles from the MH-60. They moved off as the Russians and Americans got in. Sokolov and the American pilot quickly ran through the flight checklist again before starting their engines and, on a signal from a sailor in a yellow jacket, pushing up the throttle to take off. They lifted off of the deck, banking towards the Admiral Nakhimov, hardly a kilometer away.

As the sun began to dip below the waves, the men and women of the Admiral Nakhimov and the Gerald R. Ford hunkered down, even as the radiomen organized the various ships that had been contacted, to await the changes that would come tomorrow.

Author's Note

Four hours of research. You know, writing really has its less-glamorous parts when you are writing hard facts. Like finding out every single naval vessel in the Russian and United States navy, looking for suitable ones, and then going on to research military organization.

Needless to lay, some serious stuff is about to go down.

Sorry if it seemed a bit rushed. I had limited time left when I finished, and this chapter took quite a bit of time in research, so I had to finish it up quickly.