1445 hours
Nine (9) days after first contact
Gerald R. Ford

[ Gerald_R_Ford ]
[ C:\Database\Logs\Radio\G82.rl ]
[ Radio log on ??.??.2015, 1430-1435 hours ]

[Radar Operator]: "UAV Station, I have a contact I want you to check out. Sending coordinates now. Can you divert a Triton?"
[UAV Station]: "... Copy Radar, coordinates received. We're moving a Triton towards the location."
[UAV Station]: "Five hundred meters to Line of Sight... Two hundred... We have sight on the contacts."
[Radar Operator]: "Copy. What's the verdict?"
[UAV Station]: "... Triton 4-1 has visual on five griffons, all heading towards the firebase. Requesting further instructions."
[CIC]: "4-1, this is Gerald R. Ford Actual. Keep in visual contact, but do not engage. I'll sort out the situation. Captain Henderson out."

Lieutenant Brownfield, fifteen-year veteran of the British Army, was worried.

For a man who was used to having complete confidence in his assigned mission, that is and of itself was unusual. He had trained to become a soldier, and had risen through hard work to his current rank.

Thus, being asked to deal with an sudden situation involving an entirely new species was a first.

Several minutes beforehand, he had received a communication from Captain Henderson on the Gerald R. Ford, containing a developing situation with detailed information. A group of five griffons, a species his soldiers had only encountered - and been attacked by - on patrol, was flying towards the Firebase. And while none of the analysts were absolutely sure of their intentions, the leading theory was a diplomatic situation.

All of this led to the current moment. Lieutenant Brownfield was normally in command of a Platoon of Her Majesty's soldiers, but he was also regarded as the correct one to deal with this situation. Or, at least, so said his superiors. In reality, he didn't really know what to make of the move, aside from knowing he would do the best he could.

He looked out from his position by one of the 'gates' to the firebase: Fortified by sandbagged walls, and with a moveable barrier to block any unauthorized entry, there were five of them at varying positions around the camp. Two others had been built with the arrival of the National Guard group, bringing the total number of these high-defended locations up to seven. This one was notable as the largest, and most prominent one visible.

"Now if only the bloody things would hurry up." Lieutenant Brownfield muttered to himself. It brought to mind a very common saying in the Army: Hurry up and wait.

Ten minutes later, as the Lieutenant was beginning to grow frustrated, he caught a glimpse of something silver in the sky: A single MQ-4 Triton. And trailing two hundred meters behind it were five small, brown spots, almost invisible at the distance of six kilometers. They grew ever closer as the MQ-4 Triton broke off to land at the small Firebase airfield.

At a distance of three hundred meters, the group of five Griffons descended to the ground, and began walking towards Lieutenant Brownfield's position. Several of the soldiers that were in the area tensed slightly as the creatures approached, but kept their rifles pointed downward in a nonthreatening manner.

As they came to within fifty yards, Lieutenant Brownfield walked from his place beside the open gate and into the middle of the path inside, placing himself clearly in view. Now that they were closer, Brownfield could see that four of them had light armor on and swords on their waists, while the fifth wore nothing of the sort, and instead was carrying some sort of bag on its' back.

When they finally came to within ten feet of him, they stopped, looking at him. Finally, the one without armor cleared its' throat and spoke up in a clear, male, Germanic-accented voice.

"Greetings." The Griffon said. "I am Prinz Gemüt Kennen, of the Griffonic Empire. Do you understand me?"

"I do." Lieutenant Brownfield replied, stepping forward a few feet. "Lieutenant Samuel Brownfield, of the British Army. And I would suppose you're here for a reason?"

"We are. Are you the ranking official at this post?" The Griffon asked.

The Lieutenant nodded. "I am. I may direct you to somebody higher up, if you wish." Brownfield wouldn't mind. His 'Net' unit, linked up to one of the sensors around the gate, had just reported the all-clear for explosive materials, or other dangerous substances. Thus, he was damn confident this was not a trap.

"That would be acceptable, if you could do so." The Griffon stated.

"I'll make a call." Lieutenant Brownfield promised, stepping back a few feet and leaving the Griffon looking at him in confusion.

With the system priority he had temporarily been assigned, his transmission request was pushed up to the top. Moments later, his 'Net' unit connected to Captain Henderson.

"What do you need, Lieutenant?" A voice said over his headset a moment later. "Have you made contact with the Griffons? What's the situation?"

"I've swept them for explosives and hidden weapons. They're clear. They also want to speak to a higher authority." Lieutenant Brownfield noted. "And I doubt they mean the good Colonel Degtyarev."

He could practically hear the grimace at the other end. "That would turn the situation around, wouldn't it? Lieutenant, please have them hold. I will be there shortly."

"Copy. Lieutenant Brownfield out." With a single eye movement, he closed the connection and turned around, walking back towards the Griffons, ready to hand out the news.

1452 hours

The CH-53GA Sea Stallion crossed the shoreline, heading for the gate to the Firebase as quickly as it could. All air assets in the area quickly made way for the flight, as their controllers instructed them to divert as it went through.

"Is your leader almost here?" One of the Griffons in armor asked impatiently.

"He had to fly out from his ship. Captain Henderson is inbound." Lieutenant Brownfield repeated for the third time.

The Griffon, however, snorted. "A Captain? Isn't that a low rank for your leader? And you don't even have wings!"

"The Navy of the United States works differently. I wouldn't know the specifics, I am from the United Kingdom." Brownfield said. "As for the second, I am not at liberty to say."

A few seconds later, a quiet, rapid thumping noise began to sound in the distance. It slowly grew and grew, until it was almost a roar, as the massive CH-53 flew over the gate, turning around once it passed over and going into a circle around the area. The Griffons stared at it as though it had come from another world. Which, of course, it had.

The helicopter tipped upwards as it descended, touching down slightly beyond the edge of the camp, from which several soldiers watched what was happening with interest. Emblazoned on the side near the tail was the word NAVY, contrasting sharply against the grey-blue paint.

The door on the side, just aft of the cockpit, opened, allowing four US Marines to walk out, forming a perimeter around the newly-landed helicopter. And out into the sunlight stepped Captain Henderson.

Gemüt Kennen had witnessed many strange things over the past week. Truth be told, he admitted to himself, he should have expected this entire situation to be perfectly real, and not just the unconfirmed reports that he had received. In the end, however, it was those increasingly-distressing reports that drove him out here.

Three days previously, the embassy for the Griffon Empire in Canterlot had received unusual news: Large-scale Equestrian Royal Guard movements, a cessation of all news reports from Trottingham, and rumors of an invasion by an unknown species. Naturally, this had quickly attracted the interest of the Griffon Empire, and so it was with dread that they passed it all along to Bergfeste Hauptstadt, the seaside capital of the Griffon Empire, build heavily on top of - and into - the steep slopes of a massive mountain.

One day ago, a reply had come back: Gather all possible information and make contact.

Being a Lower Prinz, still part of the nobility of his beloved country but not having a claim to the throne, he easily recognized the distinctive handwriting of Kaiser Freundlich Whitewing, the Kaiser - Emperor - of the Griffon Empire. He could read between the lines as easily as any other, and the Kaiser had attached large value to this mission.

And thus he had written a quick letter to his wife, left the embassy in charge of his subordinates, and left with a detachment of guards, cynically giving himself only fifty percent odds of surviving this. He had gone in a beeline towards the area that the new creatures had reportedly settled in, expecting it to either be a pack of lies, or his death.

The first bizarre occurrence happened when a white object had zipped past them at nearly six hundred kilometers per hour, before going into a sharp curve and ending up several hundred meters in front of him. Unnerved, he had continued on his flight, with that flying object leading the way.

After a short time, the second surprise came. On the shores of the Great Western Sea, where before there had only been vast fields, stood a massive encampment. It was nearly five kilometers around, and parts of it hugged the shoreline tightly. There was a long, grey, rectangular area that was completely flat along the waterfront, and several massive ships were in the water, of a make he had never seen.

The flying object began to descend, as did his group, angling for what seemed to be the entrance to the strange, new city.

One landing, an awkward first contact, and several minutes later, and here he was, about to make contact with the leader of this new species.

Needless to say, he knew he needed to do this perfectly. Both for his sake, and for that of the Griffon Empire.

When the create who had walked out of the flying contraption, presumably the leader, closed to within a meter, Gemüt's heart nearly leapt out of his chest when it held one of its' strange claws out. Gingerly, the Prinz returned the gesture, grasping its' clew in his and slowly shaking it.

"I am Gemüt Kennen, Lower Prinz of the Griffon Empire." The Griffon said as he broke the handshake.

"Daniel Henderson, Captain of the USS Gerald R. Ford, and commander of the Coalition of Human forces." The creature said, in what sounded like an Equestrian accent. "It's good to see a species here that does not attack at first sight."

"I am glad as well for the peaceful welcoming." Gemüt said. An understatement, to say the least. "I am here on behalf of the Griffon Empire. We had recently noticed your arrival here, and were curious as to the circumstances. I would also prefer to clear any misunderstandings that may occur."

"Gladly." The 'Captain' said, gesturing towards the camp with its' claw. Gemüt noticed, however, that its' appendage lacked the long claws that Griffons were accustomed to, and was unsure as to how to precisely classify it. "Would you wish to discuss this inside?"

"Certainly." Gemüt turned towards his guards, who were closely observing the creatures closest to them, before addressing them in Lower Griffonic. "You two, remain outside. I will go inside of their camp for discussions, and you other two will remain beside me as escorts."

"As the Prinz commands." All four responded.

Gemüt turned around to notice the 'Captain' staring at him. "Yes?"

"You speak Russian?" It asked.

"I do not know what this 'Russian' is." The Prinz responded, shaking his head. "That was Lower Griffonic."

"Ah." The creature responded, nodding its' head. "Shall we continue?"

"Certainly."

Gemüt slowly settled down in the chair, looking across the table at Captain Henderson. He was no stranger to doing things as a bipedal: The physiology of his species made them suitable to both quadruped and bipedal actions. Sitting in an awkwardly-shaped chair was simply an extension of that.

"So, shall we get started?" Henderson asked. Gemüt nodded, and so the 'Human' started into an explanation of how they appeared, and the happenings since. The more the Griffon heard, the more it sounded as if it was all a tragic mistake.

"... And now we are moving on another city of theirs." Henderson finished. Both of Gemüt's guards stood at attention to the side, but even the Prinz could see that they were startled by all that they had heard.

"It sounds as if you intend to wage war against Equestria." The Prinz noted.

"They attacked us, so we are returning the favor." Henderson noted. "We shall continue until they reach out for peace, or until they are gone."

"I can relate. I extend the recognition of the Griffon Empire towards you, Captain Henderson." Gemüt said, knowing that it was the best course of action at the time. "If you would allow it, I shall send one of my guards back to the Embassy in Canterlot with a note regarding this. Until then, would you allow myself and my guards to stay here?"

"All of that is agreeable." Henderson noted. "Good day, Prinz Gemüt Kennen."

"Good day, Captain Henderson."

Meanwhile, two miles to the south of the city of Manehatten, the combined human forces ground to a halt. Five thousand soldiers, all waiting for a single signal...

Two hundred feet off of the ground, and five kilometers to the south, over one hundred helicopters of various types flew in close formation, heading for the city. Mi-24s, Mi-17s, Mi-28s, AH-64s, MH-60s, and nearly every other type of helicopter available to transport vehicles and men.

In one of the lead Mi-24s, Lieutenant Vasilyev clutched his rifle, staring out of the window. His entire group was crammed into the troop compartment of the multi-use Russian helicopter, along with half a dozen other Russian Naval Infantry.

He gritted his teeth as the helicopter bounced upward, riding out a wave of turbulence from the steadily darkening skies. A storm was rolling in, and they needed to be on the ground before it reached full force.

And with that, he steeled himself for the fight ahead.

Deep beneath the harbor of Manehatten, a lone submarine quietly rested on the bottom. Slowly, silently, it began to rise upward, heading for the surface above.

The assault was about to begin.

Written by Merchent343
Edited by The Rainbow Brony and CommanderWolffe

Author's Note

The 70,000 word total has been broken. I am now happy. Next: On to 80,000!

Act VI is just around the corner.

(As a note, I do occasionally switch to a nonhuman Point-of-View. In this story, however, such happenings will be very rare)

Also, writing diplomacy. I don't think I'll ever try a massive chapter with it again. It's several times harder than writing anything else, and there were several sections I rewrote completely as a result. Multiple times.