The Red Sun Rises: Voyages

Chapters

A World Found Only In Nightmares
Divided Fleet
Things From The Past
Midnight-Mare
Tally Ho No
Damage Assessment And Promotions
Arrival In Nautinia Port
Negotiations And A Radical Idea
Getting Underway
Nebraskan Goop
Memorial
The Battle of Stormwater Cove Part 1
The Battle of Stormwater Cove Part 2
"Diplomatic Immunity"
The Battle of Stormwater Cove Part 3
The Battle of Stormwater Cove Part 4: Final Push
Side Chapter: Admiral's Log
Reports
The Dominion
Buckingham Palace
Hope For Equestria Yet
The Whispering Mountain Pass
Plans And Pennsylvania

A World Found Only In Nightmares

Celestia stood not two feet from Crimson Dawn. He looked different, some species she had never seen before. Now to think of it, so did she. The princess had two legs, limbs that connected right below her head, and feet. She wore apparel obviously specific to her gender and species, along with the colonel.

He walked forwards to the creature holding a young girl hostage. After a few steps, the creature called out, “Hold it right there, Dawn, or your daughter dies.”

Crimson stopped. A pistol hung in his hand, which he swung up and pulled the trigger. The perfectly aimed shot hit the creature in the face, and he fell to the ground, dead. The girl raced into her father’s arms, and stayed there, tears of relief streaking down her face.
Suddenly, the earth shook as a large explosion sent equipment flying as the scene changed. Celestia decided to look around, trying to find the source. Then she found it. A smoking crater in the central deck blocked all view to the rear of the ship - wait, ship? She glanced to the starboard side to see a large steel structure with many antennae and rotating domes. One of the same kind of creatures from the last setting stood on a balcony-looking thing, coordinating emergency efforts and staring at the flaming hole as if it were the worst thing that could happen.

Turning her head more, Celestia could see many other steel ships, all badly damaged. Black smoke like that from her own ship spiraled out of the city-like tops, some were filling with water and going under the surface with little to no lifeboats, and all looked like their armaments were spent.

“Who are you?” asked a sailor.

Celestia turned to her adressor. When she did, she asked him one thing. “Am I dreaming?”

“Pinch yourself to find out. If it hurts, it ain’t a fucking dream. Now tell me who the hell you are and how you got on Reagan during the middle of a battle?”

Celestia pinched herself with the appendages on the ends of her limbs. It gave her a sharp pain.

“Well, my name is Celestia. I am a princess of Equestria, and I have no idea how I got here.

“Come with me. Standard procedure is to put stowaways in the brig until we know exactly what to do with you.”

“The brig? What’s that?”

“Think of it as the ship’s jail. Come on, they’re probably gonna try auto-landing the planes soon, and you don’t want to be hit by a 66,000-pound decelerating aircraft.”

Celestia complied. The two hurried to the starboard side and turned to the steel structure standing above the flat deck. Just as they reached halfway, the first jet, an F/A-18 Super Hornet, emerged from the black spiral of smoke, touching down just after the leading edge of the hole and coming to a stop four feet from the end. It turned and headed to an elevator for transport to a lower deck. As soon as it had turned, another Hornet did the same automated landing, and so on until all fighters had landed.

The sailor opened a steel oval in the wall to reveal the interior. There were wires and equipment lining the walls, and a ladder-esque stairwell leading to other decks.

“Come on,” he ordered, gesturing her to follow him to a lower deck. She did, and soon found herself in Reagan’s brig. It wasn’t a very comfortable cell, just the basic requirements for keeping prisoners alive.

A few hours later, a sailor sent by the captain strode in. He saluted and asked for Celestia. The bar door opened, and she followed him to a questioning room. There, she found yet another creature sitting in a chair. Across the table in front of him, there sat a simple seat. Celestia inferred that she was to sit in the empty chair, so she did.

“Well, isn’t this interesting,” he said. “How long have you been out of the sunlight, miss?”

Celestia had a very important question to ask. “What do I call your species?”

“We’re humans, miss.” he replied. “Why didn’t you know? After all, you are one, too.”

“Where I come from, there are no humans.”

He raised an eyebrow. “First things first. Your name is Celestia, as said by the sailor who first saw you on the forward deck, is it not?”

“It is.”

“Where do you come from, Miss Celestia?”

“I am an alicorn princess of Equestria, on the west coast of the Celestial Sea. To the north is the Crystal Empire, and to the east is Griffonstone. There are no neighboring countries to the south and west.”

“I see.” His eyebrow, having gone back down, had raised again in question to her answer. “So, Miss Celestia, how did you get on Reagan?”

“I - I don’t know. First, I was traversing the Whispering Mountain Pass to reach Atlantis, then I had to rest for the night. I dreamt of my commander of the Equestrian army rescuing his daughter, then the scene changed and I was standing on the deck of your ship.” It was her turn to ask something. “What is Reagan and who owns it?”

“I ask the questions here, miss.”

“I’m not answering any more until you tell me.” She held her stern expression.

“Fine.” Her interrogator folded his arms on the table and sighed. “Honestly, I thought you were just insane with the whole ‘Equestria’ thing. But since you don’t seem to know where you are, I’ll tell you.

“The USS Ronald Reagan is a Nimitz-class aircraft carrier in service of the United States Navy. She is called by most countries a supercarrier. One of ten carriers in service today - well, nine now. Reagan is part of the Pacific Fleet, operating to the west of the continental U.S. This is unfortunately not the best time to show a visitor the ship, since we were hit by a surface-to-surface missile that could’ve set the magazine off. If we hadn’t stopped the fire from spreading, Reagan would’ve sunk. Powered by nuclear energy, we can stay out at sea for conceivably a full year before heading back, but I doubt something like that will ever happen.”

Celestia nodded, satisfied to know what she was on.

He continued to question her for a while, but only got stuff about Equestria. Not what he wanted. She was released to the brig again, and the captain walked in.

“So, how’d it go?”

“I’m convinced that she isn’t insane, sir. But she keeps talking about some Equestria place as if she lived there. And she claims to be a princess of this Equestria.”

“Understood. What’s her name?”

“Celestia, sir.”

“You know, this reminds me of before we went on deployment two months ago. My five-year-old daughter liked - and probably still likes - this kids’ show. Pastel-colored ponies living in a land called Equestria. I only know because I watched it with her, since I really like spending time with her. She’s a beacon in the fog of life in the Navy. Anyway, this show was called My Little Pony. Ring any bells?”

“You should talk to the Air Boss. She watches that show on her laptop during free time. Downloaded prior to deployment, obviously.” He saluted.

The captain returned the salute and dismissed the sailor. He moved on to the Air Boss’s quarters, a deck or two up.
He knocked on the steel submarine door before entering. The Air Boss instantly paused the video she was watching and stood straight, facing the senior officer.

“At ease, Commander.” She stood with her arms behind her back.

“What can I do for you, sir?” she asked.

“I hear you’re familiar with the children’s show known as My Little Pony, and we may have a problem dealing with someone from it.”

“With all due respect, that’s impossible, sir. You’d need a powerful magic to send a pony to a different dimension, especially if you’re making that dimension at the same time. The only alternate world to Equestria is that of Canterlot High, and even then they have to rely on a portal. They cannot reach us, and we them.”

He was right. She does know a lot. “Commander, this character I speak of claims to be Celestia. I was hoping you could get more information out of her than I did.”

“I can try, sir. Do I need to go to her, or will she come to me?”

“I’ll send her to you. Just wait here.”

She saluted. “Aye, Captain.”

About half an hour later, Celestia stood in the doorway of the Air Boss’s quarters. She looked quite tired, not being able to sleep on the constantly rolling carrier.

“Please, sit down,” the Air Boss said, gesturing to a comfortable seat. The white-skinned woman complied silently.

“So, I hear your name is Celestia, and you are the Princess of Equestria, correct?”

“Yes,” Celestia answered simply. She looked to the floor, twiddling her thumbs. That was the one thing she really knew how to do with them.

“I am Commander Amber Hamilton, the Air Boss on Reagan.” She extended her hand in greeting. Celestia took it, not sure if that was right. Suddenly, Amber shook hard, catching the princess by surprise. Then she remembered something.

“Oh, where are my manners? Would you like something to drink?”

“Yes, thank you.” Celestia nodded.

“What’ll it be? Coffee, tea, water, or milk?”

“Water will do, thank you.”

Amber nodded to one of the sailors outside the door. He left to the mess hall to get Celestia a cup of water.

“So, Admiral Robinson told me to get information out of you. Honestly, I see that as a waste of time unless you tell me in detail about this Equestria.”

“Admiral Robinson?”

“James Robinson, ranked Rear Admiral in the Navy. Senior officer in charge of Reagan’s strike group, though we’re in the process of supplementing with Vinson’s right now.”

“May I ask why that is?”

“Sure. The USS Carl Vinson was hit by several missiles yesterday that rendered the deck useless, and penetrated to punch holes below the waterline. She sank within hours. Her fighters automatically flew to us, but we almost lost both ours and them. According to the logs, you showed up right as the missile hit us. So I don’t doubt that you saw the first planes land. Anyway, what was left of her escort immediately came to join ours, since we were hit pretty hard as well.”

“How many does it take to crew a ship the size of Vinson?”

“Approximately five thousand men and women. Not many lifeboats came out of her, so we can assume they’re all dead.”

Celestia gasped. “Five thousand on a single ship? The largest Equestrian naval vessel has a crew of four hundred!”

“Ma’am, an aircraft carrier is literally a floating military city. We have three shifts of aircraft piloting and maintenance, commanding, power, meals, you name it. There’s even a post office on board, if you can believe it, along with a ship store, and don’t forget storage for practically everything.”

“I didn’t know a ship could have that many on it.”

“Welcome the the world of the twenty-first century. Though I’d like to get you back to your world if we can, because they’re going to need you.”

The sailor came back with the water for Celestia. She accepted it awkwardly, and took a small sip. It was cold, with ice cubes floating at the surface and dew condensing on the side, but the taste was great. Cold water always tasted better.

Celestia continued to talk to Amber, eventually delving into the tale of Equestria’s war with the Crystal Empire, Sombra’s weapon, and Crimson Dawn volunteering to lead Manehattan’s defense until reinforcements arrived. But she snagged on what the coming force consisted of as she realized he never told her.

Divided Fleet

By the end of the day, Celestia had become friends with Amber. They understood each other in way that no one else could: Amber watched the show, meaning she knew a fair bit about the princess’s home; and Celestia was just glad to know somebody who actually remotely knew of Equestria.

“Well, Celestia, I’m no scientist nor psychiatrist, but from what you’ve told me, I have a guess as to to why you’re here and not the Whispering Mountain Pass. When the missile hit Reagan and punched a hole in the flight deck, the resonant frequency of the explosion must have matched that of your unconscious. You were then mentally pulled through either space or time to the site of the explosion, where you were found by us. Your body simply followed your mind.” Amber concluded.

“Is there a way back?” the princess inquired.

“Not that I know of. That’s a level of technology we just haven’t quite reached yet.”

“Then how’d I get here?”

The sailor sighed. “I don’t know. But-”

She was cut off by a call. “Air Boss, the captain wants you on the bridge. And bring our guest.”

“Acknowledged.” Amber looked at Celestia. “If you would follow me, I’ll take you to the bridge.”

On the way there, the Equestrian asked what the bridge was, since she thought it was a solid pathway over a geological obstacle. The American’s response was that the bridge was the command room of the ship. It housed the navigational equipment, along with announcement systems and other stuff.

The two walked into the bridge, where Admiral Robinson waited impatiently. He saw them and strode over.

“About time, ladies. You see that?” he gestured out the window to a strange storm ahead of them. When they nodded, he continued. “It came out of nowhere. One minute we had clear skies, the next, this damn thing shows up. Do you know what it is, Celestia?”

“Looks like a hurricane, like the ones that periodically hit Batlimare during the summer. They form in the central Celestial Sea, then head northwest.”

“Well, this one’s headed southeast. Can you explain that?”

Celestia was shocked. “They’ve never headed south before. I don’t know why this one did.”

Amber spoke up. “Sir, I may have an explanation. Celestia told me that her younger sister was assassinated about a week or two ago. Since both were powerful beings at the time, it may have ripped open a hole in space. We could be looking at a portal to another world, admiral.”

Robinson pursed his lips. If he could sail Reagan and her escort around the storm, he could help finish the war against Russia and China. On the other hand, if this storm ignored the realities of space-time altogether, it would be possible to sail in and come out on the other side in time for the landing on China’s coast. If we can get there without losing all of our carriers.

“All right then, we sail in. inform the escort to follow us through the storm if they can handle the high seas. Otherwise, they should stay behind and wait for us to come back out.” he ordered.

Reagan and her escort and a half sailed towards the tropical storm. As they approached the cloud front, the wind picked up dramatically, howling at the tall steel vessels entering its domain. Antennae atop the ships began to bend to the side, the wind battering it into a slant. Helicopters not secured to the flight deck were blown to the portside edge of the deck by 300-mph gusts, and eventually fell off the carrier.

“Sir, maximum wind speed is not this high in a tropical cyclone! We need to abort before it capsizes the cruisers and destroyers!” a navigational officer yelled over the wind. “We might sink in this storm!”

“No! Hold your course, sailor!”

Reagan crested a wave two hundred ten feet high, its water splashing over the deck. One of the heavily damaged destroyers wasn’t so lucky, and hit the wave at a diagonal, capsizing as it neared the crest. The other surface ships made it through next to the carrier.

“Sir, Halsey has capsized! They’re not gonna make it!”

The wind picked up to higher speeds, threatening to knock the smaller ships over, and beginning to become a concern to the carrier. Sea spray continually washed over the deck, falling off, and splashing up again. As Reagan went over the crest of another monster wave, she flew down towards the trough and nearly smashed a submarine that sailed silently under the turmoil that was the surface. Luckily, the submarine captain saw Reagan on fuzzed sonar and dove deeper to avoid getting crushed.

The storm dissipated as suddenly as it started an hour earlier. Reagan was essentially the only surface ship left, save two cruisers and a guided missile destroyer. The submarines surfaced at that time so the ships could acknowledge their safety, and stayed with their conning towers peeking above the low, rolling waves.

About a hundred nautical miles to the west, three cruisers and four destroyers sailed through calm waters. Their primary concern was to find Reagan and the rest of the fleet to regroup. Along with them was a fast attack submarine, surfacing to acknowledge the other ships.

The same distance to the east of Reagan, two heavily damaged frigates and a destroyer sat dead in the water, their steering systems taken out by the storm. All they had was Morse code, radar, and sonar. However, their luck returned with the appearance of a WWI-era American battleship that had disappeared in the same conditions Reagan’s fleet had. Even with heavy damage, little to no fuel, and large cloth sails as its primary propulsion, it was a sight indeed. It signaled with Morse code a inquiry of identification, and received replies from all three ships. Soon, they all sailed close enough for commanding officers to meet, and they did, creating a small armada with the goal of finding the supercarrier.

Aboard Reagan, Celestia stood on the starboard balcony structure on the bridge, looking for land. It didn’t take too long once Amber handed her a pair of binoculars and taught her how to use them.

“I see something off the starboard bow. I think it’s the Dragon’s Lair North Coast.”

Robinson asked her a very important question. “Why are you a horse now?”

Celestia removed the binoculars and realized she was holding them with magic. Turning around, she said, “Welcome to Equestria.”

Amber nodded and asked about the location of the Dragon’s Lair.

“It’s that way,” she answered, pointing with her hoof.

“So, bearing south sixty east. Can you tell me where on the coast we are?”

“Yes. That is Mount Stormpeak, nearest to where the Gauntlet of Fire started last time. But I can’t give you a precise location without some kind of map.”

“Leave it to me.” Amber left the bridge and rushed to her quarters, where she kept a poster map of Equestria. Then she headed back up and laid it out on the table in the officer’s briefing room, where the others gathered while she grabbed the map.

“Where’s Celestia?” she asked, but was answered by the princess’s teleportation spell. “Alright, here you go. Full map of Equestria and the surrounding lands.”

“Appreciated.” Celestia used a pencil to point out what she talked about.

“So, here is Mount Stormpeak, at a bearing of apparently south sixty east. Judging by the midday sun, I figure that we’re here.” She circled a spot twenty nautical miles northwest of the volcano. “As far as we can tell, we’re all that’s left of the fleet. Now, to get you home, I need a magic only one creature has, and he’s a little busy fighting a war while I’m supposed to be east of Griffonstone.” She labeled the Whispering Mountain Pass. “This leads to my destination: Atlantis. However, I can’t get there by land since we happen to be just north of Dragon’s Lair. But there’s also a sea route, if you all are willing to make the journey.”

Admiral Robinson looked at the poster. “What you’re saying is that we’ll go off this map? We don’t know what’s past that point.”

The princess sighed. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.”

Author's Note

I know, the first three chapters are straight from the first book, but they're needed.

Things From The Past

Princess Celestia was in the middle of a conversation with Crimson Dawn, Twilight Sparkle, and Cadence when Admiral Robinson sounded General Quarters. Alarms rang out as sailors scrambled to seal off areas of the carrier in case of flooding.

“Well, I’d better get to the bridge. Something’s wrong,” she said.

“Alright.” Crimson said. “Good luck, everyone.”

When the spell ended, the princess teleported to the bridge. Her eyes darted around, looking for the admiral. She didn’t have to look for long, seeing him near the tactical displays.

“Admiral, what’s going on? General Quarters sounded.”

He turned to face her. “Our submarine, USS Omaha, has detected a submerged contact off our port bow. She is in the process of identifying the contact, and until we know who it is, it’s considered a possible enemy.”

Celestia nodded. That made quite a lot of sense.

“Sir, Omaha has identified contact. It’s - it’s USS Scorpion!”

“What? Scorpion was sunk in May ‘68, investigation inconclusive. That can’t be it!”

“Should I order contact to surface?” asked the officer.

“Yeah, sure.” Robinson looked at Celestia. “None of this makes sense. I’m pretty sure that our fleet had the only ships affected.”

She shrugged in reply, which just looked really weird because she was an alicorn.

“USS Scorpion, this is USS Ronald Reagan. Request that you surface for clarification on your identity.”

After a few minutes, a nuclear-powered submarine pushed the water away and poked above the small waves. Her black conning tower had the number 589 painted on the side, and the hull was clearly shaped like a teardrop. Five minutes after surfacing, she started transmitting in Morse code.

“I can’t believe it! Scorpion’s wreckage is clearly seen at the bottom of the Atlantic! How is this possible?” Robinson cried.

Celestia spoke up. “I may have an explanation. Since a rift already appeared in space because of my sister’s death, maybe your coming to Equestria somehow opened it farther and broke time. Possibly part of reality as well. That means the only way to fix it is to revive Luna and send your fleet home.”

“You saw the problem, Princess. A nuclear submarine that sunk, with photographs of its wreckage on the seafloor, is right next to us. That’s no mere rift. It’s more along the lines of a temporal anomaly that affects spatial reality as well. I’m no scientist, but that’s what it looks like. There may not be a way to reverse the effects.”

“You have to admit it. My suggestion offers at least some hope for you to return to your families.”

“It does, Princess, and that’s why I’m going to do it. What should our heading be?”

Celestia was taken aback. She didn’t expect the admiral t accept her proposal as quickly as he did. “Our present course should be fine. I don’t actually know the layout of the Celestial Sea as you might think I do.”

“But you know it better than anyone on this ship does, including Amber.” Turning to an officer, he said, “Someone get a music playlist going! I’d rather not bore this crew to death.”

“Sir, we don’t have the means to do that.” an officer replied.

“Then use the internal communications system to play it throughout the ship, and turn on a stereo of some sort so it can be heard.”

“Sir, we don’t have music equipment on board.”

Robinson had to accept defeat. “Fine.”

They held course for a few hours, then adjusted slightly to avoid the shallow water surrounding an island. While the fleet sailed around, a helicopter flew to the island and landed on it. Robinson could not resist the chance to learn more about the ecology of this world.

It took the remainder of the day to sail far enough for the island to disappear over the horizon. As Celestia hovered over the Flight Deck to switch the moon and sun, Amber watched from the Tower, where she directed aircraft. It was quite the spectacle, and Amber was disappointed that she would only be able to see it a handful of times. At the same time, she considered herself lucky, being probably the only member of the fandom who would ever experience it. Good thing she brought her phone on this shift.

Darkness overwhelmed the carrier, and running lights were quickly activated on every ship. An old aircraft flew in, catching on the arresting wires and slowing to a stop in seconds.

That immediately got the attention of every crewman on duty, because no plane lifted off during the day. Worse yet, it was a Russian fighter with a propeller engine. Since Reagan had stopped using radar to conserve power for as long as possible, nobody saw it coming until it was almost on top of them. By that time, it was out of fuel and gliding towards Reagan’s stern.

“Officer of the deck, this is the Air Boss. An unknown propeller plane has just landed without clearance. Send a security team to the Flight Deck ASAP.”

“Understood, ma’am.” The officer sent a team, and the squad of sailors soon stepped out onto the Flight Deck and headed towards the Russian plane.

The pilot climbed out and started shouting in Russian, his hands in the air. He was clearly unarmed, but ready to defend himself at a moment’s notice.

“Anyone here speak Russian?” asked one on the security team.

“I do,” another replied. He looked at the pilot and said, “We’re not going to hurt you. Just come with us.”

The terrified pilot complied and spent the night in the brig.

Author's Note

This ought to be interesting. Stuff from the human world in different times is coming to Equestria. What's next?

Feedback appreciated!

Midnight-Mare

Celestia stood up quickly, her flowing mane stopped, her legs trembling with fear. She was in her quarters on Reagan, the main ship in her task force.

The carrier shook with the intensity of a thousand combat spells as a projectile slammed into her hull. Alarms set off, warning of fire and low hull integrity. She was taking on water.

Celestia tried to teleport out of her quarters to the bridge, where Robinson could give her some answers. The spell failed and she ended up on the Flight Deck. Sailors were scattered from the anti-carrier missile, failing to put the fires out. The magazine, located at midship, overheated.

Reagan exploded, pieces of hot shrapnel and killed sailors flying in all directions. No lifeboats launched, no helicopter took flight, and her aircraft dropped into the ocean one by one as their fuel was spent, their pilots ejecting into the sea. Pennsylvania also took heavy damage, as dozens of missiles ripped her superstructure apart and destroyed her systems. Between the two ships, very little remained. The last pieces of the carrier and battleship sank below the waves within the hour.

The rest of the task force was sunk in a similar fashion, going down by either explosion or torpedo. In the distance, she could see Griffonstone surrounded by an armada of Chinese and Russian forces, their crews cheering as the last ships in the American Pacific Fleet sank to a watery grave. Meanwhile, amphibious ships were unloading their detachments of marines, destroying all hope of resistance to the superior technology and tactics compared to that of the Griffons.

The scene never changed. It froze, with the ghosts of Robinson, Amber, Crimson, and Luna walking on air towards her.
“You failed to bring them home. They died for a lost cause, while you stood there and watched. All of Equestria will fall to their regime,” Luna told her.

“Thousands of men and women who trusted you have perished because you couldn't do what you promised them.” Robinson and Amber combined their voices into a haunting sound.

“You should be ashamed of yourself. Pitiful, weak. You don't deserve the Equestrian throne. You don't deserve to be called ‘Princess’, you dishonest, unreliable-”

“No. STOOOOOOP!!!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, her head swinging high towards the ceiling. Celestia hadn't had a nightmare like that since Luna’s banishment. When she promised both herself and her subjects that Nightmare Moon would not return for at least a millennium. When she vowed never to use the Elements of Harmony on her sister again. It was too much pain.

Celestia tossed and turned for another half-hour, then got out of bed. If she couldn't sleep, then maybe a trip to the mess hall might help. At least it was on this deck.

As she walked into the mess hall, she saw several sailors talking amongst themselves. They seemed pretty pisssed off.

“I swear, if that goddamn horse screams like that again, I'm going to fucking make her wish she hadn't. I can't sleep with her yelling in the middle of the fucking night!”

“Give her a break. She's obviously going through a hellstorm.”

“Dude, the horse has done this for three nights in a fucking row. Something has to be done. I say we bring this to the admiral.”
One of the four was taken aback. “You do realize that he's the one who decided to keep her on board. She knows this world better than anyone else in this fleet.”

“I don’t give a fuck!”

“You’re right; you give two.”

“Shut the fuck up, Harrison.”

Harrison smiled. “Well, I for one, have noticed that the princess heard probably most of your toned-down shouting. She’s right over there.” He gestured to where Celestia sat, holding a cup of steaming tea with her magic. She nodded in acknowledgment to his statement, and quietly took a sip.

Her eyes had deep purple semicircles forming below them, wrinkles from a lack of sleep showed on the sides of her head, and her normally flowing mane and tail had wilted, reflecting her tired state.

After that encounter, Celestia headed to the Flight Deck, where she could clearly see the night sky. A slight breeze accompanied the cool moonlight, combining into the perfect midnight scene. The black water lapped against Reagan’s bow as she sailed through the Sea, along with those of the other ships. Amber stood silently at the forward edge of the deck, taking in the fresh air.

“Commander, how are you on this night?”

Amber jumped in surprise. “Ah! Oh, it’s just you. I’m fine, yourself?”

“Just tired. Had another one of those nightmares.”

“Again? You know they aren’t going away, so you’ll just have to get used to them.”

“That’s just the thing. I haven’t had dreams like these since I banished Luna to the moon, over a thousand years ago. They aren’t dreams I can really get used to. Plus-” her expression became worried- “it isn’t just my sister at stake. Everypony is in danger, and I’m supposed to be able to protect them.” Celestia stomped her hoof. “This damn nightmare keeps waking me up, along with my neighboring crewmembers! I don’t want them to have to deal with my fucking problems!” The princess gasped at her sudden outburst of wording not fit for royalty.

Amber’s eyebrows raised for a moment in the darkness of midnight, shocked at her friend’s language. She turned back to the carrier’s Island, where the Bridge and Tower, along with other systems, were located, inviting Celestia to come along. The princess accepted, and followed her friend across the deck. On the way, the two talked about how not to be concerned about dreams.

Author's Note

I know, language. Go Navy!

Yup, Celestia dropped her first bombs, and I'm probably gonna make her do it again.

Feedback appreciated!

Tally Ho No

It was a few days after adjusting course to a more easterly direction. Robinson stood in the Bridge, with Amber in the Tower to direct air traffic. Officers were busy working to launch the first air patrol since they arrived in the Celestial Sea, punching buttons and talking on radio.

On the Flight Deck, two Super Hornets waited for the final green light, their exhaust glowing orange in the darkness of early morning. Behind them, two more taxied towards the catapults for launch into the cool air. Several more were rising up the four elevators from the Hangar Deck.
Celestia had determined that she could swap the sun and moon more slowly, giving a more realistic feel to the cartoonish world of Equestria, so light came later and dark came sooner. This was a relief to the carrier and her escort because the sun didn’t come up within half an hour. As a result, early morning tended to come with plenty of warning.

Robinson found himself quietly singing the song “The Final Countdown” as Amber gave authorization for takeoff. As the cycle of twenty aircraft catapulted forward two by two, he could hear himself over the dim roar of jet engines.

“Sir, all fighters in the first cycle have launched.”

Robinson shook his head back into reality. “Understood. Keep me informed.”

Another one of the officers looked at the admiral. “I didn’t know you were one for musical numbers, sir.”

“I’ve done lots of parodies to modern songs, most of them getting good notes. They’re all up on YouTube; if we get back, I’ll tell you the username,” he replied.

The one at communications had a message come in. “Sir, Nebraska has a contact off the port bow, identifying now.” A few moments later, he said, “Tactical, activate radar. Admiral, contact is a Chinese nuclear carrier, listing heavily to starboard. Her hull seems to be mostly intact, with the exception of a massive chunk taken out of the stern. They have sealed the damage, but require assistance to prevent the ship from listing too far and capsizing.”

The radar activated, and dots appeared in a cluster just over the horizon. Several smaller vessels, probably an escort, and a larger one, presumably the carrier, were to the north. According to scrambled radio signals coming in, the Americans could assume they were in serious trouble.

“Helm, head for the Chinese fleet, ahead flank. Comms, inform the fleet of our course change.” Robinson called up Amber, still in the Tower. “Amber, I need all fighters ready for launch. We have a Chinese fleet dead ahead. And-” He was about to recall the fighters already in the air to refuel and arm, but remembered that only the Admiral in the Tactical Flag Communications Center aboard Reagan or the CAG (in charge of all aircraft while at sea) could recall fighters.

He was saved by the CAG’s request to land the first cycle for armament. So, as the first cycle landed, the second prepared for launch.

Aboard the other vessels, the captains hurried to follow the carrier on its new heading without hitting anyone. With little steering on the frigates and one destroyer, it was easier said than done. The three navigationally damaged ships almost sailed into each other, but quick-reacting crews prevented a looming disaster.

The two fast attack submarines and Scorpion circled the disabled Chinese fleet, ready to defend their carrier at the first sign of hostility. But for now, the Chinese seemed to be focused on keeping their ships afloat instead of dealing with American submarines. The scariest prospect for them was to lose probably one of only three carriers in their navy in an unknown world.

The Reagan Task Force was soon less than a nautical mile from their Chinese counterparts. No sign of hostile activity could be seen on radar, with sonar revealing the same results.

“Chinese carrier, this is Admiral Robinson, captain of USS Ronald Reagan. Identify yourself, loud and clear.” Turning to Celestia, who had teleported to the Bridge, he asked, “Do you think they can understand English?”

She shrugged her shoulders in reply. Again, it just looked really weird.

Static crackled over the line-of-sight communications system, then an English-understanding Chinese sailor replied. “USS Ronald Reagan, this is CNS Liaoning. Please stand down your fighters; we mean no hostility.”

“I can see that.” Turning to the comms, he heard that the CAG figured his move and recalled the jets. One by one, they all landed on Reagan.

“We have lost all propulsion, and our refueling tanker is lost at sea. If you could find it for us, we would be extremely grateful.”

“CNS Liaoning, the United States is at war with Russia and China. By assisting you, we betray our own country. We've already disobeyed orders by not attacking as soon as we found you.”

“USS Ronald Reagan, we are willing to put our differences aside for the time being in order to get home. Are you?”

Robinson looked at Celestia. She nodded her agreement to the Chinese offer, hoping he would as well. Her belief was to kill as little as possible, and use diplomacy whenever able. Makes sense, considering she is literally from a kid's cartoon.

He thought of every outcome. If they helped the enemy, it meant a court-marshaling for every single crewman. It would be counted as treason. On the other hand, it might mean getting home sooner.

If he left the Chinese to sink, it would go against all ethical ideals he believed in. Plus, it might erupt into a battle as he sailed east. A battle that could cost him half his escort. The only viable option was to assist the Chinese.

As he pondered a decision, the Chinese carrier's escort attacked. Their guns roared and their missiles began to launch.

“Sir, they've begun an assault!”

“MOTHER FUCK!” Robinson slammed his fist down onto a console. “Initiate self-defense immediately!”

Omaha, Scorpion, and Nebraska readied torpedoes and launched. The few destroyers, cruisers, and frigates launched missiles to shoot down their Chinese counterparts, and Pennsylvania fired its booming battleship guns.

The battleship’s projectiles slammed into Liaoning’s hull and Island superstructure. They penetrated the carrier's Hangar Deck and continued on to wreak havoc in the Chinese ship. Meanwhile, the submarines’ torpedoes blasted holes into the destroyers and cruisers of the escort. Missiles exploded each other and the ships launching them, and Reagan’s landing Super Hornets boltered, zooming down the Flight Deck to regain speed and fight the Chinese enemy. Those still high in the sky simply turned around.

Robinson threw everything about civil confrontations at sea out the window. The bastards had ambushed him, and he had to do something. He ordered a full assault. “Destroy all the sons of bitches. Show them we mean business!”

Celestia was shocked, but kept herself from yelling at the admiral for his decision. It wasn't the course of action she would've taken, but he was running this show with more experience at sea than she had acquired over her thousand years.

One of the anti-aircraft weapons on a Chinese ship pelted a Super Hornet that swooped down and looped back to Reagan’s direction. The flak tore through the Hornet’s fuselage, and the pilot was killed. Momentum kept his jet flying towards the American carrier, right into the -

“LOOK OUT!” Celestia screamed as she teleported herself and Robinson out of the Bridge and onto the Flight Deck. The two turned just in time to see the F/A-18 crash into the Bridge with a deafening roar and a ball of flame. Shrapnel from the explosion flew every which-way, causing Celestia to throw a magic shield around the two for protection.

Damage Control personnel raced out onto the Flight Deck, believing the explosion originated there. Instead, they saw the forward Island in flames, with the admiral and princess staring at the Bridge. The Tower was covered in black smoke, and flaming jet fuel spilled over the Bridge’s remains of a wall to drip down the side.

The sailors reacted well, and quickly. A dozen ran back inside to fight the fire in the corridors, while more put out the one spreading across the Flight Deck on an oil slick.

Up in the Tower, Amber saw the jet a second before the entire carrier shook and her view was blocked by thick, black smoke. She ordered everyone out, being the last to leave. The corridors were heating up, but she made it out onto the Flight Deck, grateful to see Robinson and Celestia standing there.

“I- I didn't get everyone out.” The princess was quite distressed. “They died because I didn't react fast enough. I-”

“Not everyone lives through a battle, my little pony. You did what counted.” Robinson tried to comfort her.

“And what would that be?”

“You got yourself out. I mean, it's pretty damn hard to replace a thousand-year-old princess on short notice.”

“You always said, ‘Ship, shipmate, self.’ That's the order, no loopholes.”

“Honestly, I would've done the same had I been in your position. Sometimes, instinct takes over and you end up skipping things like that. It isn't your fault. My people know what we're doing, and loss is just part of it.”

Celestia looked concerned. “Don't you have at least some kind of funeral?”

“Yes, we do. But that'll happen later. Right now, we need to get command systems back online without the Bridge. Come on, there's an auxiliary center below decks!” Seeing Amber, he said, “Commander, get ready to land those planes when the battle’s over. You have Green Deck!”

She quickly saluted and hurried to command the Flight Deck from on the deck itself. Aircraft personnel ran out with their equipment, and the elevators were luckily still operational. Getting the jets to the Hangar Deck wouldn't be a problem. Landing them on a carrier without the foremost arresting wire, it having been cut by high-speed shrapnel, would.

Amber was glad to see that the Chinese force was going down to Davy Jones, and that their resistance was almost gone. Although it renewed when Reagan’s Island erupted into flames, the continued pressure from her escort destroyed it completely. She took the moment to see the American losses.

USS Halyburton was hit by a Chinese missile, and her captain had given the order to abandon ship. The fire covering her superstructure was obviously out of control, and she looked like helm control was gone as the destroyer drifted near the battleship Pennsylvania. USS Klakring had lost steering again, but her hull was intact. Her damage came from the underwater shockwave of a Chinese cruiser magazine overheating, destroying the enemy ship. Other than that and Reagan’s hit, the American fleet was unharmed.

The Super Hornets flew back to their carrier and landed, one by one, onto the Flight Deck. Their jet engines roared like there was no tomorrow, Amber had to get hearing protection, and a few missed because the foremost wire had snapped, but all surviving aircraft were accounted for.

The Chinese fleet was no more. Their only active, fully constructed carrier was heading to the bottom. The Americans headed on east, repairing their damaged ships along the way.

Author's Note

Yup, this hole in space-time is getting more serious.

All US and Chinese ships mentioned in this story actually exist. I like to keep some part of my stories related to our world in some way, and this is how I'm doing it this story. The only problem with that is that people will tell me, "That didn't happen! Reagan never went to another world!" My answer to that is, "So what? You weren't on that carrier when it supposedly happened. Plus, the US is not at war with China and Russia!" (Well, I at least hope not for a while!)

Feedback appreciated!

Damage Assessment And Promotions

Celestia, Robinson, and Amber stood in the central area of the Flight Deck, just left of the Island. Forward of them, the survivors of USS Halyburton’s evacuation set up some tents and shelters on the Deck, as Reagan had no room for them belowdecks. Aft, repair crews were working on the foremost arresting wire.

The three talked about the destroyed Island section with the Damage Control Assistant, known to the crew as the DCA.

“Don’t worry, Admiral. We’ll have the Bridge repaired in no time. I have men working right now, and they’ll be joined by the ones on Three Wire as soon as it’s fixed.” The DCA seemed quite positive.

Robinson’s skepticism showed through his words. “Do you have an estimate?”

“Yes, sir. You can expect the Bridge to be navigationally operational in two days, with tactical systems the day after. We’ll have to cut down part of a bulkhead to replace the lost hull, but that part should be done by evening tomorrow.”

“What in the Bridge is salvageable?”

“Not really anything, sir. We’ll use nonessential equipment to recreate the computers and stuff.”

Robinson pursed his lips. This was a good estimate and use of material. With Halyburton out of the picture with her magazine exploding half an hour after the Chinese sank the day before, they couldn’t use equipment from her. Klakring’s captain said that if any ship had to be scrapped, it would have to be the frigate. But Robinson replied that no ship would be scrapped unless she was truly unable to continue service. Until Klakring was damaged beyond repair, she would stay with the fleet. They needed all they could get.

“Use all nonessential equipment from any ship. We must have the Bridge up and running by noon tomorrow, so I’ll have damage crews from the other ships, excluding Klakring, assist you. Objections?”

“No, sir. We’ll do our best.”

“Good. dismissed.”

The DCA saluted the admiral, and walked off to coordinate repair efforts. He had to deal with damage crews from six more ships, and needed all the time he could get to prepare.

Robinson turned his Air Boss. “Unfortunately, the CAG was killed when we lost the Bridge. You’re the only person qualified for the job, so I’m promoting you, Amber. You’ll have to do both positions, can I trust that it’ll be efficient and productive?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do what I can. Should I inform the other senior officers, or will you do it?” She looked shocked for a moment, but quickly recovered.

“They already know. I just had to tell you.”

“Well then.” She saluted him. “Permission to start immediately.”

“Granted.”

Celestia watched the exchange with curiosity. She didn’t know Robinson had the authority to hand someone a role at a moment’s notice.

“So, where do you think we are, navigator?”

Celestia wasn’t expecting that question. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you’re ready to navigate. We lost ours yesterday, and you seem to be the only one who even remotely knows this world.”

“Uh, sure. What do I do?”

“Follow me.” Robinson started to head inside the carrier, but the princess stopped him. “I’ve been looking at some spellbooks in Canterlot via magic, and I think I found one that can turn me into a human, but still have my magical abilities. It’s worth a shot while I’m here, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. sounds good. You might not have clothes on, though, so I’d try it inside your quarters. Go ahead; I’ll wait here.”

She teleported to her quarters and cast the spell. It worked; Princess Celestia had a new form as a human female. Looking in the mirror, she realized Robinson’s suspicions were correct about her apparel. At least there was a spare uniform neatly folded in a box under the bed. She quickly dressed, doing her best to get it right. Afterwards, she teleported back up to the Flight Deck, and was relieved to see that her clothes went with her. Being with humans taught her quite a bit about their culture.

The admiral laughed. “I see my assumptions were correct. Not bad for your first time putting on that uniform, Celestia.”

“I tried. I’m just glad they came with me when I teleported.”

“I might as well give you a tour of the ship, since you clearly can roam the halls without teleportation. Come on.” He beckoned for her to follow him. While they walked down the corridors, he told her to talk to Amber about getting civilian apparel. Only Navy personnel wore a uniform, and she wasn’t in the U.S. Navy.

The two arrived in the auxiliary command room. It was equipped with several large plasma TVs that normally showed things from radar readings to live video feed relayed from tanker Super Hornets circling high above. Today, it had the lunch menu on a smaller screen, static where live video feed would be, and relayed sonar pings from the submarines. Reagan’s radar readings were there as well, along with supplies readouts. Seawater would have to be desalinated soon, and food was becoming an issue. Ammunition was high, as was JP-5 (jet fuel) and power efficiency.

After a few hours in the command room, Robinson took Celestia to her quarters. She kissed him on the cheek, and walked in, closing the door behind her. He blushed slightly, not really ever experiencing that little love one feels when something like that happens until then. After all, he was a 30-year-old bachelor who never felt the need for romance; the youngest admiral, but still not married.

Robinson then walked to his own quarters, and took note of the flurry he had begun to feel in his log. Slight attractions to pretty women wasn’t uncommon, but as the Captain of Reagan, it was fairly serious. He spent the night trying to forget the princess’s beauty: her voice, her eyes, her hair, her breasts…

Dammit, stop thinking about something you won’t see anytime soon, you pervert, warned his consciousness. Why do you just now start feeling an attraction to women? And she’s a fucking horse at heart, you idiot. Not some hot female sailor that I tell you to keep your hands off. But don’t touch her intimately anyway.

After a few hours of this self-depreciation, he finally closed his eyes. But he still dreamt of Celestia for some reason. Maybe it was because she had obviously forgotten to put on certain articles of clothing.

Author's Note

This is my first attempt at some romance in stories. I look forward to improving and building on this arc of the storyline.

Yeah, I know what guys tend to look at when they see a pretty girl. I'm guilty as well. That's why I did that part where Robinson's mind wanders about Celestia's body. And that self-depreciation happens to me all the time. It's why I don't do sexually explicit activities.

Feedback appreciated!

Arrival In Nautinia Port

Celestia had spoken to Amber about standard civilian apparel and proper clothing. The commander taught her how to put on all clothing she would need, and the princess payed attention.

Presently, she sat at Reagan’s helm. It had been repaired completely not two hours ago, and Robinson had to teach her how to drive the carrier in case of emergency. While she sweated profusely over the lives of several thousand men and women relying on her to do it right, the admiral played “Starman” on his phone, singing along quietly.

“Robinson, I think it’d be a good idea to follow the coast. We’re close to the edge of the Equestrian map. If we head due north until we see land, we’re guaranteed to sail by a major port, where we can get a map of the local areas.”

“You’re right. Helm, bearing Red 0-9-0.” He picked up a line-of-sight phone, informing the other ships of their new course.

As the fleet turned to port, Celestia’s arms and head sweated even more. She pulled the carrier slowly through the turn, barely able to keep Reagan near the center of the escort. Her breathing became heavy, and Robinson considered taking over. But Celestia made it.

“You did it. Good job, Princess.”

“Thanks.” She looked down and saw long sweat stains running down her sides. “That was so hard.”

Robinson chuckled. “There’s salt on your forehead.”

Celestia rubbed her right hand on her forehead. Sure enough, salt bits fell off and onto the deck. “Is this a good thing?”

“It’s fine. Just means you need to drink some more.”

The shift of crewmembers came in, and Celestia gratefully handed the Helm over to the sailor.

“The Officer of the Deck has the Helm. Turn Green 0-9-0 when we come two knots off the coast,” Robinson ordered. More quietly, he asked the princess to come with him to the mess hall.

A few minutes later, Celestia was sipping a cup of lemonade. The ice-cubes inside kept it nice and cold, retaining its taste. Across the table, Robinson had a steaming cup of coffee.
“Not Starbucks, but it gets the job done,” he commented.

It was a peaceful afternoon, with the two talking about cultural differences and similarities. The conversation picked up more when Amber came off shift and sat at their table. It eventually changed to how they would get into port. After all, Reagan and Pennsylvania were way too big ships for the docks in any case, the submarines rode too low, and Klakring and Chafee sustained too much damage. The only options were to use either the guided missile destroyer or one of the two cruisers. Risking the destroyer was not a smart decision, and the two cruisers gave the fleet a tactical advantage. They could ill afford to lose either.

In the end, Robinson chose to use one of the cruisers, USS Lake Erie, as their diplomatic vessel when entering port. She carried two helicopters in the stern hangar, which would allow Robinson and Celestia to board without much trouble. Well armed with many missiles, guns, a few torpedoes, and sophisticated sensor systems, she was capable of defending herself from anti-American ponies.

It took a few days to reach the nearest coastal city, the Atlantean port Nautinia. The town was seated at the mouth of Aquarius River, about 250 miles south of the famous battleground. Ships of all sizes sailed in and out of the harbor, and the largest piers held massive cargo vessels almost ninety meters long. Even those sailing ships were children compared to the 173-meter Lake Erie, twice their size.

Robinson and Celestia rode one of the helicopters to the cruiser. Then they made their way to the Bridge, where Lake Erie’s captain ordered entrance into port.

The cruiser sailed slowly to the largest public pier, which was thankfully empty. As she pulled in, the men cast mooring lines to ponies on dry land, who caught them with Unicorn magic and tied them in place. One Unicorn carried a wooden gangplank, and the sailors lowered their end into place. When all was set, Celestia and Robinson walked down the gangplank and onto the pier. They were met by the harbormaster, a Unicorn.

“I heard that many metal ships were sighted off the coast on Dragon’s Lair a few weeks ago. Now that I see one for myself, the first thing I notice is size!” he exclaimed. Gathering his composure again, he asked, “Who are you two?”

“I am Admiral James Robinson of the United States Navy. We sailed through a tropical cyclone and ended up in this world.” Gesturing to the woman next to him, he said, “And this is Princess Celestia of Equestria. She doesn’t kook it, but she found a spell so she could fit into my people’s culture better.”

“Is this true? Any alien could claim to be Celestia in another form,” the harbormaster asked.

“It’d better be,” she said. “I was supposed to cross the Whispering Mountain Pass into Atlantis, but I got sidetracked by a magical anomaly.”

“I’m gonna need proof, miss.”

Celestia snapped her fingers, and transformed into her alicorn form. Then her horn glowed, and she reappeared as the white-skinned human in clothing. “Need I continue?”

“No, ma’am. So, what brings you to these parts instead of your home, Princess?”

“My sister was assassinated about a month ago. I plan on bringing her back to restore magical balance to both our world and the human one. Without her, crazy things happen. This U.S. Task Force, for example, can’t go home. A battleship and submarine that should’ve been sunk have supplemented this fleet.”

“Battleship? Was it metal?” the harbormaster inquired.

“Yes. USS Pennsylvania. Why?”

“We have a special pier for the battleship, normally closed off. She comes in every few months to buy supplies payed for by her crew going out and finding cargo taken by the Corsairs of Korea. Queen Atlanta prefers to keep our technology out of those greedy hooves.”

Robinson was confused. “Korea doesn’t have pirate bases.”

“Well, we ain’t talking ‘bout the same Korea, then.”

“What kind of supplies does Pennsylvania pick up?” asked Celestia.

“Refined petroleum, steel projectiles, food, and water, among other personal things. That crew sure likes clothing.”

“Well,” Robinson interjected, “it’s inappropriate to not wear clothing in our culture.”

“I noticed.” the harbormaster replied. “So, what kind of supplies does Pennsylvania’s friends need?”

“Gasoline for the turbines, food, water, and ammunition.” Robinson ran down his mental checklist. “And a day or two of shore leave. The crews can’t be cooped up on the ships forever.”

“Gasoline? You mean refined petroleum, right?”

“Yeah. That’s what gasoline is.”

The harbormaster considered the requests. “We can definitely get you guys all of that, including shore leave. I just need to know how big your largest ship is.”

“At the waterline, 317 meters long, 41 at the beam. Displacement of 101,400 long tons.” Robinson instantly replied.

The harbormaster looked up from his paper, which he had used to take notes on the fleet’s request. “Is that the total length and beam?”

“No. Total length is 333 meters. Total beam is 77 meters.”

“That is one big-ass ship, sir.”

“It’s an American supercarrier. I can give you the crew count if you like.”

“I’ll need to know that.”

“Approximately 5,700 personnel, excluding a frigate’s survivors.”

“Holy shit. How many ships of this size do you have?”

“One. Pennsylvania is the second-largest, with the cruisers, frigate, destroyer, and submarines after that, in no particular order.” The admiral smiled.

The harbormaster took notes of all the specifications. When he finished, he asked if it was correct. Robinson verified the information, and the harbormaster took him and Celestia to the Nautinia Center of Naval Commerce, where the port’s proceedings were coordinated.
“Welcome to Double NC.”

He turned to a Pegasus, ordering him to notify the Queen of Pennsylvania’s arrival, and that they had friends. He flew off to carry out the order. Soon, an ocean-blue alicorn entered the room. The military ponies saluted her as she passed by, and the civilians acknowledged her.

She saw Robinson and looked puzzled. “You aren’t Captain Ross.”

“No, I am not, ma’am. My name is James Robinson, ranked Admiral in the United States Navy. I command USS Ronald Reagan, an aircraft carrier built in the early twentieth century.”

“I thought your world was in the mid-nineteenth. That’s what Ross told me.”

Celestia stepped in. “Queen Atlanta, a hole has been ripped in space-time between the two worlds. I need your help, and that of others, to fix it.”

“Who are you?”

“I figured you wouldn’t recognize me, cousin.” She snapped her fingers, transforming into an alicorn. “Does that help?”

“Princess Celestia! When you didn’t come over the Pass four days ago, I got worried sick! Equestria can’t spare to lose you, not after Luna’s death. Forgive me, cousin.” Atlanta’s initial surprise wore off. “I assume Colonel Dawn is serving you well?”

“Atlanta, he is the perfect pony for the job. We would’ve lost Manehattan in days without him. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your generosity in military matters.”

“All for one, and one for all.” The queen wrapped her hoof on her cousin’s shoulder. “I know you would’ve sent help during my war, but Atlantis has always been self-reliant. I couldn’t just change that.”

“Wait, you two are cousins?” asked Robinson.

Atlanta giggled. “If you count more than fifty generations cousins. She got the immortality genes, and all I got was fertility.”

“Fertility? You got the good looks.” Celestia poked.

“Yeah, but my family wasn’t always ruling Atlantis. I used to be a love-seeking idiot who did one night stands every Friday for money. I mean, it kept food on the table, but I suffered the consequences with Rose Thorn.” The three walked outside towards Lake Erie. “That was over twenty-some years ago. She married Crimson and had a foal of her own, but those damned Crystal ponies took the filly and ran last month.”

“I heard that Rose Thorn was killed in the war.”

“She was, Celestia. Rose was executed by the Dominion for treason, but the poor mare had never set hoof on Dominion soil. Nor had she actually committed the supposed crime. They just wanted a reason to kill an alicorn.” The queen looked downcast.

“I bet she was a good mare. Crimson seemed to love her very much.”

“She was.”

They came onto the pier with the American cruiser. The queen took one look and her jaw dropped. “That’s one big ship! Though, Pennsylvania is bigger.”

“You haven’t seen Reagan.” the Equestrian princess replied.

Atlanta turned. “Try me. How big?”

Robinson told her the general specifications. The queen’s face showed more and more shock until he finished.

“H - how?”

“Science, my lady.”

Author's Note

Yeah, a new character! And I know that normal naval vessels can't operate for too long without resupplying, so that's why they entered port.

All ships mentioned actually exist. Specifications are on Wikipedia if you so desire to check.

Feedback appreciated!

Negotiations And A Radical Idea

Princess Celestia, in her human form, spoke to Crimson Dawn, several thousand miles away, about the war. He didn’t have very good news.

“Princess, we moved Cadence and Twilight to the Everfree Castle, as you know. Unfortunately, it was destroyed last week by Sombra and his weapon. Currently, rescue crews are on site; however, I don’t believe anypony could’ve survived the blast. The Tree of Harmony is, well, ash. The Tree soaked up as much magic as it could to protect the area, but it overflowed, and half the Forest exploded as a result, with fires still burning in what’s left. And the Everfree Castle is not even rubble. It’s nonexistent.”

“What about the Elements?”

“We’re missing Magic because Princess Twilight was in the castle, but that’s all. Finding both princesses is our highest priority as of now.”
“Good. Keep me informed.”

The spell ended. Behind Celestia, Queen Atlanta sighed. She knew the importance of the Elements of Harmony, the Tree of Harmony, and the Everfree Castle. Without those, Equestria was doomed, even with the forces she had sent.

But Atlanta didn’t know why this was such a high concern. Without the Tree of Harmony to help maintain magical balance, more holes between Equestria and Earth would open. More innocent lives would be at stake. It was also possible that the two worlds would physically collide, causing more mayhem and widespread destruction.

The princess’s fears deepened with Admiral Robinson’s entry into the room. “Celestia! We’ve acquired a GPS fix on all ships in the Pacific Fleet and the continental United States! Hawaii is on the map, along with the country of Japan, the Philippines, and other islands of Southeast Asia!”

“Robinson, we have a problem. Let’s get to Reagan.”

Celestia teleported all three of them to the American carrier’s briefing room. She called Amber down to their location and spread the Equestrian map on the table, one of the Pacific Ocean next to it.

Amber ran into the room, followed by the other senior officers. “What’s the issue? You said it’s an emergency.”

“You all know that GPS fix on all of your friends and foes?”

Everyone nodded and agreed, and she continued. “It’s because the residual magic from the Tree of Harmony is gone. The Tree was destroyed last week, and the protective ambient spell it cast between our worlds has dissolved as a result. Also, it’s safe to assume that the Element of Magic no longer exists.”

Amber’s eyes widened. The Air Boss/CAG, fairly knowledgeable on the subject of Equestria, put two and two together and realized the amount of shit that was about to hit the fan. Chinese and Russian armies could be marching across the MLP world as they spoke, US carriers would disappear and reappear in a random fashion, and all of space-time could be disrupted forever.

One by one, the others realized their predicament. Soon, the entire room was close to panic.

They were interrupted by the Officer of the Deck calling for Robinson to the Bridge. He dismissed everyone and headed up, followed by Celestia and Atlanta, who used her cousin’s spell to become human, in Celestia’s quarters and with spare clothes on hand, of course.

The three arrived on the Bridge. Robinson ordered the new video system, modeled after Star Trek’s viewscreen, activated to show the other end. The screen fuzzed with static for a moment, then the President of the United States, with military advisors at his side, appeared.

Robinson instantly saluted. “Sir.”

“At ease,” the President said. “Admiral Robinson, it is relieving to see your ship on the map again. How are you faring?”

“Well, sir. However, we lost three cruisers, four destroyers, and a fast attack during the storm. The battleship Pennsylvania is with us, if you desire to know. Also, USS Halyburton exploded five days ago in an engagement against the Chinese carrier Liaoning. Her survivors are spread out on the Flight Deck right now.”

The President bowed his head at hearing the loss of the frigate, and the disappearance of eight ships. But he had to ask something. “Admiral, was one of the cruisers USS Ticonderoga?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, I can tell you that they are not lost. Ticonderoga and the other seven ships are off the coast of Taiwan, a few hundred knots west-southwest of your position. Their main objective is to find you, and-” He was interrupted by an admiral behind him. “They say they’re providing tactical support? But Taiwan isn’t in this fight.”

“Mr. President, may I speak directly to Ticonderoga?” Robinson asked.

“Of course.” He signaled to someone behind him, and the cruiser’s captain soon appeared on the screen. The captain and Robinson discussed locations, and suddenly, the admiral spurred a random question.

“Captain, does the local populace consist of pastel-colored horses?”

“Yes, sir. We are in league with one named Crimson Dawn, trying to fight off some species they call Changelings.”

“Ah. That explains exactly where you are. Mr. President, Ticonderoga and the other ships are off the coast of Equestria.”

“Where the fuck is Equestria?”

“My daughter’s favorite TV show - My Little Pony.”

“Oh, speaking of her, you’ll have to renew your guardian permit. It expires in two days.”

“What does this have to do with Equestria, Mr. President? My adopted daughter is fine; can someone just, like, renew it while I’m at sea right now? It would seriously help.”

“Nothing. We felt the need to inform you.”

Robinson’s eyebrows moved quickly. “Huh.”

“Now, Admiral, we need to know where Equestria is exactly.”

“I told you, sir, it’s in a television show. Just ask any brony.”

“THAT DOESN’T FUCKING HELP, ADMIRAL!”

“That’s all I’m really able to tell you, sir.”

The President calmed down. “Sorry for the outburst. I’m just pissed that Carl Vinson was sunk, Reagan and what was left of the escort vanished, and is now reported to be in some TV show. Wait, the women behind you aren’t Navy. What the hell are they doing in the Bridge during operations?”

Robinson gestured to the monarchs. “Oh, them? I forgot to introduce my local friends. The white one is Princess Celestia of Equestria, and the blue one is Queen Atlanta of Atlantis, where we are currently half a knot off the coast.” Each nodded deeply as he mentioned their names.

“So, diplomats? I’d certainly like to get started on some sort of peace treaty.”

Robinson smiled. “Mr. President, we already have an alliance of some sorts. Queen Atlanta has a deal with USS Pennsylvania, and Princess Celestia is acting as our navigator. She is looking for certain magical solutions, and I have decided to assist her in her search.”

For a while, the President spoke with Robinson, Celestia and Atlanta. Then the line was terminated, with military alliances between the States, Equestria, and Atlantis.

Robinson turned to Celestia. “Well, do you care to navigate on?”

“I think this is about as far as you can go, Admiral.” she replied. “I must go inland to the Dominion. They may have a way to revive Luna, and I will not miss a chance to repair some of the damage done to the space-time reality. If I don’t do this, our worlds will collide and millions, maybe billions, will die.”

“The Dominion?! Are you crazy?” Atlanta was extremely shocked. “They will kill you!”

“Not if I don’t have help,” Celestia said. “All I need is a shallow-water boat to go upriver, and maybe some troops for a guard. I can handle it, cousin.”

“I just don’t want you to die, Tia.” The queen’s eyes began welling up with tears. “We’ve already lost Luna.”

“With any luck, Luna will be alive again, and we can seal this interdimensional rift.”

She and Robinson began to plan her trip into Dominion territory. And he couldn’t stop locking his eyes with hers.

Author's Note

The loss of the Tree of Harmony will be explained in greater detail when I write Crimson's side of this several-month period. Don't worry about explanations right now.

Good luck fixing this shitfan of a disaster, Celestia.

Feedback appreciated!

Getting Underway

“You know, cousin, the fastest way to the Dominion is by ship.”

Celestia looked up from the map of Atlantis and the surrounding regions and at the queen. She had initially thought that a land route would be quickest. “And why is that?”

“Because, Celestia, the waters off Atlantis are surprisingly warm during the winter months. Warm enough for a wooden cargo ship, at least. On the other hoof, the land freezes over. Ice covers this entire border from Hearth’s Warming all the way to Hearts and Hooves. And I don’t mean a layer of ice like the kind seen in Canterlot. I mean glaciers. They form on the Northern Run as the river cools in autumn, and slowly thaw. All in all, you won’t be able to come home in time to skip past the glaciers, since they stack up in about a week. You’ll be stuck in Dominion territory until the Northern Run thaws again.” Atlanta explained. She indicated the locations as she mentioned them.

The map itself was a marvel of topographical achievement. Each mountain in the Whispering Highlands, between Atlantis and Griffonstone, was carefully marked with an elevation accuracy of three meters. The Pass wound through the Highlands, twisting and turning in an unbelieveable pattern. On the Atlantean coast, several ports were spaced three hundred knots apart exactly as if sailing. There was Crimson’s hometown, Summercrest, and a small fishing area at the continental corner. It was the second east of Nautinia, the Atlantean capitol and Reagan’s present location. The naval harbor Saltlake Bay sat just east of Nautinia, being the homeport and shipyards of half the Atlantean Navy. Many military bases dotted the interior, such as Emberforge Base, built into the remains of an ancient, extinct volcano, and Starsong Encampment, the Atlantean army’s northernmost base of operations.

On Atlantis’s northern border sat the Northern Run. It was a kilometer long and half as deep, and extended on east in dozens of tributaries and one calmed to become Griffonstone’s Guto River. All in all, the Run could not be easily crossed in winter, which helped lead to the victory over the Dominion, on the north side.

Celestia understood Atlanta’s point. But she had to ask Robinson his opinion on the matter.

“It wouldn’t be that difficult,” he replied. “We could make the trip in a week or two.”

“You’d better,” warned the queen. “We haven’t mapped more than fifteen knots out to sea because of the Corsairs of Korea, and some myths claim a monster to be out there. I don’t know if your crews have faced something like it before, but I advise caution.”

“All myths back on Earth turned out to be sailors mistaking creatures, like the manatee for mermaids. We’ll be fine.”

Celestia eyed the admiral worriedly. “In Equestria, unusual things can happen.”

“Atlanta probably hasn’t seen the damned thing.”

“I can hear you, Admiral, and I can assure you will encounter one. I did myself while on a relaxation cruise two years ago. Daydream turned to nightmare as this-” she shuddered- “creature attacked. It had the tentacles of an octopus, eyes of an eagle, the hearing of a bat. The thing could smell the fear inside me as it ate my guard one by one. I shot it with magic, but it simply bounced off. Only once it consumed me in a single bite was I able to attack with actual results. I escaped back to my ship, which was reduced to splinters by its horrible appetite for pony flesh. It saw me and captured me, knocked me unconscious, and the next thing I know, I’m in its lair, where the skeletons of countless pony princesses were scattered about the floor. I barely escaped back to land with my life.”

Celestia’s concern grew. This thing actually existed. And it desired the meat of ponies. Her journey to revive Luna just got that much more dangerous.

“So, Atlanta, I take it you’re staying here to rule Atlantis?” she asked.

“Yes. That and the beast. Do you need anything else before you depart?”

“No. We should be on our way.”

“Good luck then. May Harmony guide you to your destination safely.”

“And the same for you, my cousin.”

The Queen of Atlantis cast a spell to switch to her alicorn form, then teleported off the carrier. Her kingdom needed her.

Robinson and Celestia walked to the Bridge. More repairs were being made, as the makeshift computers broke continuously. Sparks flew into view from the window when a welder reconnected the cut bulkhead to the Island superstructure. It was a tedious job, having to fix the metal weld every few days. But it had to be done, or Robinson would be staring at a nonexistent wall.

On the Flight Deck, the survivors of USS Halyburton’s destruction packed their tents to move into an area of the Hangar Deck opened for them. It would keep the sailors from interfering with takeoff procedures, and give them better shelter from the elements at the same time. It was also noisier in the Hangar, but the crew didn’t seem to mind. The safer they were, the better they felt about the possibility of returning home.

Aircraft stood aft of the sailors, waiting for them to clear the path to the catapults. Their engines were running, their pilots were ready, and Amber gave them a Green Deck. Jet turbines whined at a high pitch as the fuel lines were disconnected and personnel kept away from the front of the aircraft.

Celestia walked onto Vulture’s Row, a balcony-like projection off the port side of the Bridge. She looked out to the bow and let the cool sea breeze flow through her hair. Reagan was about to sail east, and she knew her job was to navigate, which meant not getting out much.

Robinson watched as the princess’s hair waved and flapped around in the wind. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up, taking in the beauty and coolness of the fresh air. She was even smiling.

She’s beautiful.

He stepped out onto Vulture’s Row next to her. She looked slightly up at him, as he was an inch or two taller, and he could see it in her eyes: she was tempted to do something.

“Celestia, how many times has someone told you that you’re the reason they get up in the morning?”

“Very many times, actually. After all, I do raise and lower the sun.”

“Not that. I mean as in their personal reason.”

“Not at all. Why?”

“Because it is for me.” Robinson leaned down to her level and pressed his lips to hers. To his surprise, she returned the kiss. Her eyes fluttered and her arms wrapped around him. He did the same, and they stood for a few minutes, caring only about the moment.

He finally pulled away from her. She followed his lips for a second, then pulled back herself. Both of them blushed slightly.

Robinson’s small blush reddened when he turned to see the entire bridge crew watching. They were grinning ridiculously, with some close to bursting into laughter at their commander’s predicament.

“Someone found a lover,” one officer commented.

The admiral quickly regained his composure. “I have the Conn. Helm, ahead full, bearing zero-nine-zero. Inform the fleet of our course. Communications, inform the Pentagon that we are underway, and ask them how many surface combatants are left in the Pacific Fleet. Their radio silence is giving me the shivers.”

The Bridge became a flurry of activity. The Helmsman set the carrier on its new heading and speed, the tactical officers sat in front of their makeshift combat computers, and the communications officer radioed the Pentagon.

After a few minutes, Robinson had an answer to his question. The entire Pacific Fleet was sunk, with only submarines staying in deep water remaining. Reagan and her Task Force had the only surface warships left, along with the eight ships assisting the Equestrian army against the Changelings. With the other ships several weeks out, Robinson was on his own.

Nebraskan Goop

The Reagan Task Force sailed through the day and into the night. They had stocked up on food supplies, fuel, and ordinance while near port at Nautinia, and every ship now had full tanks. USS Lake Erie pulled out of the harbor and rejoined her small fleet as the final preparations were made, carrying the last stock of supplies.

Since the incident on Vulture’s Row, Celestia and Robinson kept a distance between them. It would be best if the highest-ranking people on board didn’t get romantic, even though it occasionally happened with enlisted that didn’t think they’d get home. The princess and admiral had bigger concerns.

The carrier escort kept land in sight at all times. Atlanta’s warning was to be taken seriously, especially since she actually showed fear at the thought of straying from land. Robinson thought it ironic, considering the country was Atlantis. No doubt the rest of the crew felt the same way.

The military cruise continued on through the week. The days dragged with boredom. At least an off-duty officer came up with the grand idea of stargazing during the night. That became practically a tradition the next night. Every off-duty sailor brought up blankets and spread across the Flight Deck, turned off the running lights, and stared into the beauty of the night sky. Interestingly, the constellations were the same as on Earth.

Celestia and Robinson decided to take a whirl at stargazing together, and set up near the bow, just ahead of the catapults. They pointed out the patterns above, chatting as they did so. The chaos of the night was its beauty. Other groups saw the two, but stayed away for privacy reasons.

“Robinson, do you have children?” Celestia asked.

“Yes. I adopted this little girl off the streets of San Francisco, and raised her as my own. She’s five. I call her my daughter, probably for sentimental reasons. I’d do anything to come home to her smiling face. She probably thinks I’m dead.”

“She’s lucky to have someone like you for a guardian.”

“You're her favorite pony. The benevolent dictator, tall and proud.”

“I'm a princess, not a dictator.”

“I meant the type of government.”

The two lay there on the deck in silence. A shooting star appeared, and people watched in wonder as it streaked through the sky, slowly burning brighter and brighter.

Suddenly, it exploded into fragments flying at several times the speed of sound. The shockwave slammed into the carrier, shattering windows and nearly bursting everyone’s eardrums. Seconds later, the pieces fell around the fleet in a spectacular display of falling fire and cannonball splashes. The shooting star was soon followed by more; it was the Lopholithodian Meteor Shower, hitting Equestria only once every three generations. Streaks of light flew overhead as the meteors entered the atmosphere.

“What a spectacle,” Robinson commented.

“It still gets me every time, even after seeing it at least a hundred times. The Lopholithodian Shower was the result of a magical imbalance in Equestria not even Discord could create.”

“What do you mean?” The admiral was familiar with the Lord of Chaos, and figured the draconequus could do whatever the hell he wanted.

“It-” Celestia almost broke into tears- “It was the result of my sister’s turning to Nightmare Moon. The exchange of combat magic between Luna and I ripped a hole in reality, and the Lopholithodian Shower came to be. It was a constant reminder of Luna’s banishment.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring back memories like that.”

“It was better after Luna came back. Then she was killed.”

The peaceful night was interrupted by a large explosion off to starboard. Celestia and Robinson sat up to look, and saw a fire off in the distance. One of the submarines had obviously torpedoed it, and the thing - whatever it was - was fighting back. Without binoculars, the princess could make out a wooden vessel, tall masts, and other remains scattered about the part of the ship that hadn’t blown up.

Robinson picked up his walkie-talkie and demanded to know what the hell happened. The reply was that the unidentified ship had done something deemed hostile and the submarine Omaha took it out. It had escalated from there.

The admiral sighed. There wasn’t much he could really do about the situation. But he did order everyone off the Flight Deck for the rest of the night.

The next morning, the mystery ship was far behind them. Robinson couldn’t spare the time to loiter while rescue helicopters searched the area for survivors, so he moved on. But one of the submarines, USS Nebraska, did stay behind for an hour to pick up said possible survivors. But none were alive, so it sailed at ahead flank to catch up.

Nebraska had been in line-of-sight comms for half an hour after departing the shipwreck area when her signal died abruptly. The fast attack simply disappeared right off the map. Right then, the admiral chose to turn around and head back. No ship could be left behind, especially in this world.

“Sir, Scorpion has a contact, bearing one-four-seven. Identifying now.” A few seconds later, he reported, “Sir, it’s Nebraska, but she isn’t responding to hails. She’s two knots ahead of Scorpion, just sitting there at Periscope Depth.”

Robinson took the part at Periscope Depth a bit better than the rest of the news. Since the submarine was close enough to the surface, he could have some divers go down and enter, bring her up to the surface with an Emergency Blow, and investigate further from there. Too bad neither Omaha nor Scorpion had SEAL teams; this would be a job for them. USS Michigan had one, but she was most likely lying at the bottom of the Taiwan Strait with the rest of the Pacific Fleet. Since Robinson couldn’t even contact the United States for some odd reason, he didn’t know.

“Sir, Scorpion requests permission to send divers to Nebraska.”

“Go ahead.” The admiral sat in the tattered Captain’s chair, it being one of the few salvageable things left after the battle against the Chinese carrier Liaoning. It was deemed without sufficient material to do much, so the Damage Control teams simply put it back in place.

Scorpion surfaced just above the unresponsive submarine, just off the port bow, for a diving team to assemble on top. She slowed to a halt, and the divers dove in and swam down to Nebraska, sixty feet below. As soon as they reported entry into the Los Angeles-class submarine, the captain aboard Scorpion reversed course, away from the larger boat.

Ten agonizing minutes later, Nebraska conducted an Emergency Blow and shot right up to the surface. She blasted out of the water bow first, followed by the Conning Tower and the stern. An enormous wave spread out as the bow sank back below the waves and the stern came up, and the submarine leveled out. The Emergency Blow was successful; now the divers could report anything wrong, as the immediate task was fulfilled.

“Sir, there’s nobody here alive. Everyone’s dead.” One of the divers knelt down to Nebraska’s captain, sitting against the extended periscope, completely gone, his pulse nonexistent.

Robinson turned to Celestia and nodded. She snapped her fingers and the two teleported into the submarine. They ended up in the Engine Room and proceeded to the control center. The whole way, they encountered dead crewmembers all along the halls. It was eerily quiet.

In the control center, the divers were sprawled out among the other sailors, their bodies lifeless. Robinson took one look and saw an almost-clear goo on all the consoles. He raised his eyebrows at Celestia and saw the most terrified face in the world. Her eyes were wide with fear and she trembled visibly.

“Celestia, what do you think this goop is?”

She saw it and almost screamed with terror. “Get it off of you NOW!”

Robinson swung his hand away from him and her, and the goo flew off his hand and into a console. “What is with you? You’re this close to snapping.”

“This stuff killed my grandparents. Translucent goo, as it’s known. We have to leave the submarine behind, or we’ll all die.”

“Alright, alright, calm down. We’re leaving.” He gestured for her to teleport them back to Reagan, but she did nothing of the sort. Instead, she headed to the hatch and began climbing the ladder.

“Translucent goo is one of the terrors of the seas. If it gets on your ship, you might as well be dead, since it can go right through hull like that pretty three-inch steel wasn’t there. It’s an airborne toxin that hampers magic, which is why we ended up in the Engine Room and why I can’t get us out. The stuff can kill in minutes, less if you’re hampered physically, and longer if you’re shielded. The longest recorded time it takes to kill is twenty minutes, shortest is two. About four hours after killing its victims, it reanimates them into ghost crews. Scariest thing you’ll ever see. Us, I threw a magical shield to prevent it from getting into our lungs, but that’s as much as I can handle, and not for long. We have to exit the submarine before I’ll be able to teleport us back to Reagan,” she explained as she continued on up.

Robinson followed her. They emerged from the fast attack and she snapped her fingers. The next moment, they were on the carrier’s Flight Deck. She snapped again, and they were in the Bridge.

“I have the Conn. Helm, aft flank. Clear a five-kilometer gap between us and Nebraska.” Robinson ordered. “Order the other ships to do the same, and hope to God that shit doesn’t follow us.”

“What shit, sir?”

“Translucent goo. It killed everyone on Nebraska, and the diving team. If Celestia hadn’t cast a magical shield as soon as we entered, we’d be dead, too.”

The American carrier’s propellers rotated to pull the massive one-hundred-thousand-ton behemoth of a ship away from the doomed fast attack. On the other surface ships, the same thing happened. When every ship had opened a sufficient range, Robinson gave the order for Omaha to torpedo the infected submarine.

“Admiral, did I hear you right? Launch a torpedo at a friendly ship, is that correct?”

Robinson nodded. “They heard me right. Tell them it’s a direct order, no overrides. If they don’t, we’re gonna have a zombie-filled nuclear submarine sailing the open sea, and that’s the last thing I want right now.”

Omaha’s captain looked reluctant to condemn his sister sub. But he had no choice. “Load Torpedo Bay One, and lock on to Nebraska. Open Torpedo Tube One.”

When a firing solution was available, he gave the order. “Launch torpedo on generated bearings.”

The torpedo streaked through the water at a forty-five degree angle towards its target. It began sending out sonar pulses, slowly increasing in frequency and pitch. It was homing on Nebraska.

The torpedo closed on the nuclear submarine and impacted the hull. It blasted a large hole into the side of the surfaced vessel, knocking the boat in two. The massive cascade of water flung high by the explosion pelted the surrounding area, raining seawater as well as heat-killed translucent goo. The distinctive blue glow of the reactor core shone as the halves sank below the waves.

Robinson bowed his head in silence. He would have to conduct a memorial for the submarine’s crew the next day in honor of their valor during this dark time.

Author's Note

I'm not entirely sure something like this is possible; however, I'm the only one exploring this part of the map, and therefore get to say what's there.

All ship and submarines mentioned actually exist. Some, like the submarines Omaha and Scorpion and the frigate Klakring, are no longer on the list of commissioned vessels in the U.S. Navy. But it's my story, so I can play around with it. Poetic licence or whatever it's called.

Memorial

Every ship in the Reagan Task Force was at all stop, sitting there in the deep aquamarine sea. Far to the north, a strip of land marking the Atlantean coast was barely visible with the naked eye, a green strip in the vast blue.

All senior officers and as many personnel as could fit on the Flight Deck stood at attention. Their focus was the batch of American flags, covering one hundred two small sacks, near the bow. The flag on Reagan and her escorts flew at half-staff in memorial of Nebraska and her crew, lost at sea the day before.

Admiral Robinson, Commander Amber, and Princess Celestia stood with the sewn sacks just in front of them, along with the DCA, RO, and several others.

“Today we commemorate the loss of USS Nebraska, SSBN-739, and her crew to the Celestial Sea. One hundred two souls were aboard her: brave men and women who volunteered their lives in service of our country. In our journey to return home, they payed the ultimate sacrifice in ensuring that it be done.

“Throughout history, many have laid down their lives in service of their people. The sailors aboard Nebraska are no different. Every one of them knew what they were doing; they all were prepared to meet the Heavenly Father. Today we pray and hope that their sacrifice will bring us closer to home.”

After the religious ceremony was conducted, several men leaned the bags over the side. The small boxes inside slid out the open end and into the sea. While all flag-covered sacks were tilted, every single sailor on every ship slowly saluted the represented remains of their fallen comrades. One played “Taps,” and and the mood deepened.

Celestia followed suit, saluting the represented remains. She figured she did it wrong, but felt better trying to show respect. She was wearing a spare uniform, the most formal attire really available. Next to her was Amber, with her solemn, serious face. On Celestia’s right was Robinson with the same expression.

As each box slid over the side, seven soldiers fired three volleys each on their rifles; the twenty-one gun salute. It took an hour for every lost sailor to be honored, buried at sea in an unknown world.

After the proceedings, Celestia asked Amber how she felt.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m kinda jealous of Nebraska’s crew right now, since they don’t have to deal with the possibility of either Trump or Clinton becoming President this election. But I mourn them at the same time, for they’ll never come home to their families. And the same goes for my pilots; I plan on visiting their families at least once to express my sorrow for their loss. So, in the end, I have a mix of feeling towards a burial, always have, and will until the day I die. Yourself?”

“Me? I feel the loss. They were not my people, but I still have an inclination towards sorrow and regret in this form. Unlike my alicorn form, where I feel at home, where I don’t worry about death. It’s an interesting experience.”

The two walked back inside the carrier after most of the others had. They had spent the entire day giving the lost men and women a burial at sea, so Celestia lowered the sun behind Reagan. The carrier sailed on into the dark unknown, the sunset at her back.

Author's Note

Yeah, this is a short one. Hopefully the emphasis on this is the burial, because this is quite a serious matter. I respect the men and women in our armed forces.

The views and opinions expressed in this are of the characters speaking and not necessarily that of The Atlantean Pony, the U.S. Navy, and The Red Sun Rises. Politics are politics.

The Battle of Stormwater Cove Part 1

“USS Pennsylvania, what can you say about these waters?” Robinson asked. The carrier group was now at the corner of the continent, and turning to zero-zero-zero: due north.

“Admiral, this is the main operating area of the Corsairs of Korea, based on the mysterious island fortress known as Stormwater Cove. They seem to have control over local wildlife, and will no doubt use it against us. The best course of action would be to sail through as quickly as possible. Unless you plan to invade Stormwater Cove, which we don't necessarily have the material to do.”

Robinson digested Captain Ross’s words. He had the inclination to follow his advice, but at the same time, he wanted to take out the pirate base. It could acquire material they wouldn't get otherwise. Extra food, fresh water, and maybe some more ammo, albeit primitive compared to Reagan, would help quite a lot in the long run. But without marines, that would be easier said than done.

“Sir, what are your orders?” asked the Helmsman.

If we can get a detachment of Atlantean troops, it just might work. But then again, that means turning around. And that would waste a few days. He thought long and hard on the subject.

“Ahh, fuck it. We’ll assault the base.”

One of the officers was surprised. “Sir, we don’t have ground forces.”

“But we do have helicopters and jets. We’ll just use Pennsylvania’s crew. That is,” he said, turning to Captain Ross, “if your crew can actually handle a ground assault.”

“Admiral, my crew has taken out a dozen pirate bases in the past with nothing but lifeboats as craft to get us to the beach. We can handle it,” came the reply.

“Good.” glancing at Celestia, Robinson saw that she was concerned about violence. But then again, she always was.

Fifty minutes later, Commander Amber was given authorization to begin flight operations, as Reagan had already sailed to within strike range of Stormwater Cove. Super Hornets whined their engines as they taxied up the elevators and to the catapults. Flight personnel ran around the jets, prepping them for liftoff by lifting ordinance onto the undersides of the wings and pumping fuel into the tanks. The pilots climbed into the jets, buckling up and fitting on their helmets once inside the cockpit.

“Attention on the Flight Deck, Four-Alpha-One and Four-Alpha-Two are go for launch. All unauthorized personnel, clear the catapults. Pilots, begin the final preflight checks. Admiral, we are lit.” Amber looked down on Vulture’s Row and saw Celestia watching the operation. The princess’s multi-colored hair flowed with the little wind blowing to port.

“Commander, Four-Alpha-One and Four-Alpha-Two have passed checks; winding the catapults now.”

“Good. Four-Alpha-Three and Four-Alpha-Four, begin final preflight checks. Load ordinance and top JP-5. We don’t want unarmed jets that run out of fuel.” She hit a button on the console in front of her, giving the flight directors clearance to send the first Super Hornets into the sky.

On the jet assigned as Four-Alpha-One, the pilot saluted the man near his Super Hornet. The man raised his arm and lowered it into a horizontal position, signaling the pilot to activate the afterburners.

The pilot’s name was Matthew Powell, callsign Railgun. He earned it from his skill using the six-barrel Gatling gun fitted on the F/A-18, taking out training dummies more efficiently than any other pilot in the Air Force or Navy. His lean but muscular body allowed him to pilot many advanced aircraft, and meant slightly less fuel was spent lifting off, if that made a difference. His wingman, Courtney Melendez, callsign Artemis from her beautiful yet secretive body and personality, weighed about the same, and the two didn’t care if the other pilots used more fuel. They had a mission to accomplish.

The catapult hooked to Artemis’s Hornet suddenly released, and she was sent over the bow with enough speed to cruise on. She flew to the tanker Super Hornet already flying, and began to top off her fuel tanks.

Railgun saluted the man off to his right once more, then gripped his controls. The catapult released with its usual clunk, he was pushed back into his seat, and his jet was in the air. He flew behind Artemis, and waited his turn to top off from the tanker while the rest of Reagan’s first cycle lifted off over the calm waters of the Celestial Sea.

The first cycle of Reagan’s aircraft flew at high speed to the island of Stormwater Cove, far ahead of the carrier and her fleet. At the tip of the wedge formation was Railgun, with Artemis to his immediate right. Two radar-jamming EA-18G Growlers flew at either end of the formation, preventing any possible threat from enemy missiles. That was, if there was one. Captain Ross aboard the battleship Pennsylvania reported that the Corsairs of Korea had not acquired a technological level higher than black powder, used in early gunpowder-based weapons, and highly combustible. If a magazine or powder storage building was anywhere in the area, it was top priority.

An E-2 Hawkeye relayed radar information to the fighters from high in the clouds, safe from all ground-based threats. It picked up several projectiles from the island, most likely cannon fire shot by overzealous and confused pirates. But then they changed to symbols its operators recognized: Russian surface-to-air missiles.

Four of them stayed at fifteen thousand feet, zoomed over the Hornets, and kept going. An operator wondered if this was a new generation, one that changed altitude at the last second. And it did change altitude quickly, but it wasn’t falling. It took a second for the operator to realize their intended target.

“Incoming missile, bearing three-zero-nine!”

Matthew saw the missiles streak overhead, interested by the peculiar turn of events. Soon the four disappeared from his display, along with the rest barreling at the twenty American aircraft. He switched to his organic sensors, and the missiles reappeared. Most of the forty-some bogies were identified easily, except for eight.

As the two forces neared, all the Americans dispensed chaff and juked to different directions to avoid getting pummeled. But two friendly jets dropped off the grid, and Matthew was horrified to see that it was the Growlers, taken out by the eight unidentified missiles.

“All friendlies, this is Railgun. Drop to one hundred feet and see if we can die at a later date.”

The others in the cycle followed his orders, angling down and leveling off just above the surface. But the Russian missiles that originally missed looped around, racing down to the twenty craft and slamming into several. Railgun and Artemis both had to dispense chaff and juke hard to avoid certain death. But the number of missiles was still more than double its prey.

He heard Courtney lobby for dropping the ordinance and returning to the carrier. But they both knew that Amber had to give them the order to go back. However, she didn’t have to tell them to drop the payload. He agreed, and whoever was left followed suit, dropping their bombs into the water below in order to lighten the jets.

Matthew felt his Hornet get so much lighter, and just in time. He dispensed more chaff and banked hard to the left and the sky as another Russian missile streaked towards him. The missile, attracted by the aluminum-coated fibers in chaff, flew on down and splashed into the sea.

He took a chance to find Artemis, and saw her zooming high up to get more maneuvering room, getting two missiles to chase and collide with each other. Glancing at his display, he noticed that besides him and Artemis, there was only four others still aloft.

Amber’s voice crackled on the radio. “All cycles, return to Reagan. We can shoot down the missiles if you get in range.”

Matthew was more than happy to oblige. He raced back to the carrier at full speed, with Artemis on his left on some guy on his right. Behind them, three more formed up as well. All six maneuvered constantly to prevent a lock-on by their predators, but almost to no avail. The third plane in Matthew’s little group was hit, and spiraled a smoky trail into the water. Nothing remained of the three Hornets behind them. Artemis was close to going down as well, but Matthew looped back and blasted her bogie with his Gatling gun.

“Thanks, Railgun. See you at Reagan.”

The two parted ways, and just in time. They had reached the range of the U.S. fleet. SM-3 missiles launched from the cruiser USS Lake Erie came within thirty feet of knocking them out of the sky as they took out the Russian ones.

The two were the only ones left in their cycle. They both breathed a sigh of relief, until Matthew realized that the Aegis Warfare Systems aboard the frigate USS Klakring had read them as enemy, and fired SM-3s to destroy them.

It was too late to evade. The only option was to eject from the fuselage and hope to God they were far enough when the missiles hit. Artemis ejected quickly and efficiently, falling to the surface just before the missile hit. Matthew wasn’t so lucky; his ejection seat failed and he flipped upside down to try and solve his issue. He unbuckled and opened the cockpit, falling out and whizzing between the two vertical stabilizers of his Super Hornet. His horribly aerobraking shape slowed him considerably, and he pulled open his parachute, slowing enough to survive his impact with the water. Above him, the SM-3 collided with his craft, showering the area in front of him with flaming debris.

As the two waited for the carrier group to rescue them, they tried to figure out how the hell Russians got on the island, and how they hacked the American software.

Author's Note

I got most of this scene from the military action thriller Empire Rising. A little bit was tweaked (like Russian instead of Chinese, Reagan instead of Nimitz, no SM-3s would be launched towards friendlies, and everyone should've died) but for the most part, it's similar to the original. Credit to the author of Empire Rising.

Chapter name inspired by The Battle of Sugar Cane River Part 1, chapter 29 of Fireheart 1945's The War of 1002. Link to his excellent military fic is here: https://www.fimfiction.net/story/50809/the-war-of-1002

The Battle of Stormwater Cove Part 2

Robinson stared at the radar view on the screen in front of him with great concern. The Russian military was in the pastel-colored world, ramping up the difficulty tenfold. Gone were the days of smooth sailing and uneventful trips. Worse yet, the Russians and Chinese had already destroyed the rest of the Pacific Fleet. And with depleting supplies, Reagan and her escort had virtually no chance at bringing Celestia to the Dominion.

The Equestrian stood next to him with the same concerns on her face. Unless she could do something really insane in the next few days, they were all probably going to Davy Jones.

Their attention shifted back to the tactical displays. Nothing had appeared representing surface-to-surface missiles, but they'd keep a close watch just in case. Each second without retaliation was a second of high adrenaline and nervous crew.

Also, they would be relying a lot more on Pennsylvania, as her outdated combat systems weren't hooked up to Aegis. That meant she couldn't be hacked to launch at friendlies, like Klakring moments ago. Also, the battleship was less likely to be as much a target as the more advanced Nimitz-class carrier. The more Robinson could take advantage of his arsenal, the better off the fleet would be.

Aboard Pennsylvania, Captain Ross had his repair teams working around the clock to outfit the ship with equipment necessary to become a reserve flagship. Computers were updated with as much tactical data as could be stuffed into their hard drives, hull plating was reinforced with bulkhead parts, and a beyond-repair Super Hornet had been taken apart to provide its higher-tech Gatling gun at her bow.

The battleship’s superstructure was going under major modification on a scale normally done in drydock. Even so, she had to stay operational, so the Bridge and other necessary systems and rooms were left untouched. Slag flew off the ship as her crew kept at a high rate of construction despite the current situation.

In Reagan’s Combat Information Center, Robinson directed the others for a briefing as Amber walked in, the final officer to arrive. She sat in an empty seat typically reserved for the official CAG, but she had taken that role when the Bridge was several days before. The admiral kicked off the briefing. “As all of us know, we are what’s left of the Pacific Fleet. This means that we want to preserve the ships and lives aboard, not to mention trying to get back home anyway. But I will not retreat after something like this. We cannot let this world believe America weak, and therefore ripe for invasion.

“Our aircraft were targeted about four hundred miles west of Stormwater Cove. The second cycle landed back here safely, and the two pilots left in the first cycle were picked up by USS Omaha. All surviving pilots are now in the Hangar Deck, awaiting further orders. However, there are no orders they can really be given unless we’re okay with losing all of them.”

The others nodded agreement, and he continued. “So the plan is to sneak at night with Pennsylvania’s lifeboats. They are the most experienced people we have at an assault like this, so I’m willing to let them do this. The only problem is that they have to be two hundred miles offshore to do that. In order to get the lifeboats past waters possibly infested with enemy submarines that can dud all our torpedoes, as relayed by a makeshift communications system put in place by the Pentagon.”

Amber asked, “And how the hell are we supposed to do it without functioning torpedoes, hacked Aegis Warfare Systems, and not even half a carrier escort with the main supply being rations?”

“That’s the question I like to hear. However, you are out of line, Commander.” he replied.

“Sorry, sir.”

“No, that’s okay. We are going to do it by…” he explained the plan to the senior officers step by step.

Two hours later, a Russian Severodvinsk-class nuclear submarine was detected by radar coming from the island. It obviously had a full Torpedo Room, otherwise its captain wouldn’t have departed to knock out Reagan. Without anti-submarine software that wasn’t disabled, the fleet could do nothing but wait.

K-329 Severodvinsk. Modern Russian Nuclear Submarine.

Nazarov Vsevolod Olegovich, known as Captain Vova by his crew, was pleased to see that the American carrier would soon be in range of his heavyweight torpedoes. The few surface ships were not turning to intercept him, and that made his job so much easier. Turning clockwise while looking through the periscope, he saw the WWII battleship, its crew making some kind of modifications to her superstructure. But no matter, as the massive ship was the next target after the carrier.

Letting his mind wander, he remembered first receiving the orders three hours ago. Anti-carrier missile launchers had not been moved to the former pirate base, so he was tasked with sinking the fleet that so eagerly launched its aircraft and lost the ensuing engagement. Another point for him was that he had sunk USS Nimitz in the Taiwan Strait with no mercy shown. Experience outranks everything, even in the Russian Navy.

Bringing his mind back to present, he looked at the carrier through the periscope. The gray warship wasn’t even doing anything. Her speed was only five knots, and with a ninety-degree angle off Captain Vova’s bow, he couldn’t miss if he aimed right.

Still looking through the periscope, he suddenly fell to the deck as the entire submarine shook and ground to a halt. Vova quickly stood back up and looked through the periscope again, and saw the carrier moving… down? He turned to the other ships and saw the same thing.

“Helm, what the hell is going on? I didn’t order us to surface!”

“Captain, we didn’t do anything!” the Helm cried with a thick Russian accent.

“Sonar, confirm that we’re going up!”

“Sir, depth is negative! I have no clue as to what to do!”

“Send a sonar ping!”

The sonar operator complied, and a loud sound was sent through the air. Whatever the hell had the submarine in a telekinetic grip released, and the large underwater craft fell to the surface. Everyone inside flew for a second, then slammed into the deck as Severodvinsk stopped at the ocean surface. Many groans of pain could be heard, from even Captain Vova. they all recovered and Vova ordered a torpedo launch to distract the carrier group long enough for them to escape. It was done, and they sped away at ahead flank.

USS Ronald Reagan.

Celestia stood on the Flight Deck, just in front of the Island. Her eyes were closed in concentration as she tried to find the enemy submarine sneaking towards the carrier. It wasn’t too hard; she just had to keep a grip on it.

She found the submarine and held out both hands in its direction in relation to her. Holding them out palms-up, she raised her arms slowly, steadily. Sweat rolled down her face from the mental exertion. It didn’t take long for her entire body to be shaking and soaked in sweat. Her hair blew in the wind generated from the magic usage, thankfully not getting in her face.

The water parted about five miles off to starboard as Celestia’s target rose into the sky. Its bow faced the carrier, and its periscope stuck out way more than normal, as the thing was picked up at periscope depth. The conning tower swayed with the unexpected wind, causing Celestia to use even more magic to keep the submarine upright. Everyone in the fleet watched in awe. A flying submarine was the most insane thing they had ever seen since Celestia’s arrival and the sailing into Equestrian world.

A loud, sharp ping blasted by her ears and she covered them, squeezing her eyes shut in pain. She crouched to try to lessen it, but it didn’t work. She lost her grip on her target, and the Russian sub fell to the surface. It hit with a splash many times the size of a belly-flopping whale, sending up huge plumes of seawater. Its crew was no doubt shaken by the experience.

“Ahh…” she groaned. That sound really did a number on her. Her head was spinning, her body felt like it had been both squeezed and released in less than a second, and - was that blood coming from her ears?

Unbeknownst to the princess, the enemy had launched a torpedo, and she would’ve detected it and tried to stop it in its tracks if she could just stand up again.

She had just stood up again when the entire carrier shook from an explosion sending water flying up to the Flight Deck. The rock knocked her back down, and this time, she didn’t dare stand up.

In the Bridge, Robinson dealt with flooding on some of the lower decks. A Russian heavyweight torpedo had just impacted Reagan dead center, directly below the Island superstructure. He seriously hoped it hadn’t been damaged by the hit. The lights flickered out, and Robinson heard the forward emergency diesel engine rumble to life, signaling that both reactors had SCRAMed.

With no operable reactors, the carrier had no propulsion, which meant her greatest asset, speed, was no longer available for use. Flooding meant that the ship could already be doomed, but it was possible that the compartments could be sealed before Reagan was pulled under the surface. And without propulsion and working defenses, Reagan was a sitting duck for anyone who wanted to make the kill.

Author's Note

Completely unique scene. Maybe except for the possibility of flying warships stemming from the Helicarrier. :pinkiehappy:

All ships mentioned actually exist (or did at one point). I get all my needed info from Wikipedia.

The Fantasy Name Generator( http://fantasynamegenerators.com/ ) is a great tool to help you get names for Russian dudes, or whoever you really need. I used it for my Russian captain. There's even an MLP name generator if your creativity has failed you!

"Diplomatic Immunity"

Robinson and Celestia stood in a helicopter, riding it down to the location of the hit. They were both worried that hull integrity of the area would be too damaged. Along with them rode the DCA, having the same concerns.

“Don't worry, admiral.” the DCA shouted over the noise of the helicopter engine. “It doesn't look too bad out here. We can patch it up before the day is out. As for the inside, you can expect that to be repaired in a day or two. But if my assessment of your move is correct, you want the outer hull repaired before anything else. With your permission, I'll recruit damage teams from the other ships to assist in repairs.”

Robinson nodded. “Go ahead. I want this hole patched before 1600 hours.” he replied, also shouting over the noise. “What do you think, Princess?”

“That'd be my first move if I were in your position. If need be, I can hold a magical barrier around the fleet, preventing anyone from reaching us.” She too was yelling so the other two could hear her.

“Then it’s settled.” Robinson ordered the pilot to fly back up to the Flight Deck, and they soon stepped of the copter onto the carrier.

Once in her quarters, Celestial cast her spell, surrounding the Reagan Task Force with an impenetrable shield of Equestrian magic. Once up, it took minimal effort to keep it going, so she was able to walk to the Bridge. On the way, she decided to stop at the mess hall. It was uncrowded, as the normal lunchtime wasn’t to start for another ten minutes. She received her lunch and sat down.

Amber walked in, singing to herself. Celestial strained slightly to hear, and could’ve sworn the woman mentioned Everfree. Listening closer, she could discern the lyrics.

“Will you be lost by time or be part of history?
Will your story be told or remain a mystery?
Will they sing your song, telling all that you have done?
Time to make your choice, only you can be the one.

Ahhh-ohhh, oh, wah-ah-oh, as you join in the legend of Everfree!
Hey!
Ahhh-ohhh, oh, wah-ah-oh, as you join in the legend of Everfree!
Hey! Hey! Hey!”

She continued to sing as she got her meal and sat down across from Celestia. The princess asked what she was singing, and the response was, “Legend of Everfree. From the movie.”

“What?”

“Oh, sorry. I forgot you have no idea what I’m talking about. Equestria Girls: Legend of Everfree, the fourth movie in the series. Takes place across the mirror portal.”

The princess immediately recognized the mention of the portal she let her former pupil keep in the castle outside Ponyville. It was a powerful artifact, from the olden days when Celestia and Luna didn’t listen to Starswirl the Bearded too well. She smiled as she remembered the adventures she had as a teenage mare, going through the portal and running into her alternate self. It was such a funny moment, looking back on it. They had even swapped places once or twice for an hour or two, swapping back before anypony really had a clue as to what the hell was going on.

“What about the portal?”

“Sunset, Sci-Twi, the Mane 5, Canterlot High, the works. That was a pretty interesting series, and I want another, but they’re working on a different movie.”

“What? Sunset Shimmer?”

“Yeah. A few of my brony friends say she is one hot girl, and I honestly don’t blame them.” Amber continued to tell Celestia about the fandom for the rest of lunch.

The next hour, the two stood on the Flight Deck as a Russian helicopter landed in front of them. While they were at lunch, the Russian commander had radioed Robinson to call for a ceasefire, and Celestia had advised the admiral to let her try diplomacy. Robinson agreed, but had ordered security personnel to take aim at the enemy in case they tried something stupid. Not that it was necessary. Celestia planned on taking many precautions.

The Russian representative stepped onto the deck as his helicopter’s engines wound down. He had that air of superiority about him, with his head high and the obvious nobility in his eyes. There was almost no chance of dealing peacefully with this guy, and Amber knew it.

“Princess, this asshole is not going to accept anything but our total surrender. I can see it on his face.”

“I must try nonetheless, Commander.” But the princess did have her doubts.

The Russian had multiple medals dangling on his uniform. They were in perfect order and everything. Each one was well kept, polished, and shinier than the midday sun was bright. The glare was almost more than the Princess of the Sun could handle.

“Sir, welcome to USS Ronald Reagan. I hope that we may come to a peaceful agreement.” Celestia started negotiations.

“Before I came to your pitiful fleet, I familiarized myself with this world a small amount. You are a princess of a far-off land, and although I'd rather speak with your father, a king, you will suffice.”

Amber growled. “You obviously didn't do enough research, sir.” She spat out the word with more contempt than antibronies. “Princess Celestia is the eldest ruler of Equestria. You would be wise to respect that.”

“And you would wise to respect me, woman. I have received more honors in my career than you could ever imagine.”

Celestia broke it up before Amber could respond, suggesting that they head to the table she set up at the snap of her fingers. The two enemies scowled at each other, then sat down.

“As representative of the Reagan Task Force, I ask that you stand down and leave us be. If you do not comply, we will destroy your forces.” Celestia started.

“You are not an American. Therefore, you do not have the authority to threaten me so. And I'll be completely honest; the only thing that America really has is sexy women. Which I plan on having. Before they forced you into this war, which you have no business partaking in, your ideals were probably among the best. The Americans have warped your view to match theirs.”

“We have done no such thing! Why you cowardly piece of shit, all you want is to see my ass! Shows how much of an asshole you really are!” Amber yelled.

“Once Russia is victorious, you will be a fine prize of the President! Nothing will stand in Russia's way, least of all an incompetent woman!”

“CUT IT OUT!” Celestia shouted. “Both of you! Can we please get through five minutes of relative peace so that this might end?”

“Fine.” Neither human was very thrilled with following her orders. They still scowled at each other, but kept their mouths shut about it.

“Thank you.” She looked sternly at the Russian. “Your unconditional surrender would save the lives of many.”

“As I have previously stated, Russia will never surrender. It is you who must give up and acknowledge us as your superiors.”

Amber suddenly stood up and punched the Russian’s face with all the force she could put into it. She shook her hand from brief pain and sat back down. The Russian, having believed that diplomatic immunity would protect him, cursed loudly, clearly shocked. Celestia had a similar reaction, almost flat-out screaming at her comrade. Meanwhile, the Russian rubbed his newly broken nose with a handkerchief, wiping off the blood that slowly flowed from his wounds.

“Imbecile! Consider negotiations over. Your pitiful fleet will soon see the might of your superiors.” He stood up and strode to the helicopter, nose sticking up like a ‘Kick Me’ sign on his back. The Russian left the American ship, and flew back to base.

Diplomacy had failed.

The Battle of Stormwater Cove Part 3

Celestia woke up the next morning to a large explosion rocking the ship. Secondary rumbles followed, along with the emergency diesel engine. We seem to use that thing a lot.

She teleported to the Combat Direction Center, just below the Bridge. Robinson was there to more easily monitor the battle, and so was Amber, directing aircraft via the Strike Controllers. The princess asked what was going on.

“Russian fighters have come through some kind of portal and into this world. While you were sleeping, your magic shield shut down, and they came right on through. We've been fighting them all damn morning.” Robinson replied.

“Any submarines?”

“Not after you picked that one up the other day.” The admiral looked at the screen behind Celestia and saw two red half-circles with the round end downward, meaning submerged contacts. Russian submarines were closing in on the American carrier. Omaha and Scorpion still had dudded torpedoes, as far as the carrier group was concerned, so the two fast attacks sailed swiftly away from the enemy.

But Omaha’s captain had a trick up his sleeve. He turned the submarine around at ahead flank, barreling straight towards the Russians. Then the American fired a torpedo, launched a countermeasure, and yanked hard right. His crew was well trained; they pulled through the turn while keeping at the same depth, preventing the rudder-turned-quasi-stern plane from sending Omaha to Crush Depth.

Omaha’s torpedo continued to cruise on at the Russian submarine farther to the south. Then Omaha suddenly shut it down as a high-pitched sonar pulse hit the torpedo. Since the torpedo was deactivated almost as the pulse hit it, Omaha’s captain hoped it wouldn't affect his weapon. Several tense moments passed by while the American crew watched their submarine’s idea.

It worked. When the Russian submarine was within five hundred yards, Omaha’s captain reactivated it and the entire CDC crew cheered. The torpedo went to full speed and slammed into the Russians before they could send out another pulse. It exploded, sending a plume of water at the surface, and the gamble paid off. The other Russian submarine turned around quickly and vacated the area for fear of a similar attack.

“Someone get that guy a medal!” yelled Robinson. Celestia hadn't seen a happier face in her entire life. It was a mixture of cheer, relief, and gratitude, making the admiral’s true emotion that much harder to discern.

“Attention in CDC,” Amber called out. “We have multiple DF-21 missiles inbound. Request General Quarters.”

The cheering instantly died down. Fourteen Chinese anti-carrier missiles were headed straight for Reagan, presumably launched from China and through an interdimensional hole, allowing China to cripple flight operations again. Without the Aegis Warfare Systems, it was doubtful that Reagan would survive the onslaught.

For an anti-ship missile, the DF-21 was quite large. It was designed to punch a forty-foot hole in the Flight Deck, continue on down, and wreak havoc throughout the carrier. Robinson was lucky those few weeks before, when Reagan had been hit. The resonant frequency had brought Celestia to the carrier as the ship’s midsection lost a lot of material and men. That time, the ammunition magazine was extremely close to overheating and turning Reagan to scrap metal. As it was, the carrier survived, although the same couldn’t be said for her sister ship USS Carl Vinson. Vinson had sunk within hours, hit by five DF-21s.

“Admiral, I recommend using USS Lake Erie’s developmental build. It might just save our bacon like last time if there isn't malware.”

Robinson agreed. “Tell them to use it.” Patching into the internal comms system, he called DC Central. “Put the RO on the line.”

The Reactor Officer came on quickly. “RO.”

“RO, Captain. Skip repair procedures and commence immediate Fast Recovery Start-Up. Override reactor protection and increase shaft turns to one hundred ten percent power. We'll need the power to possibly evade some missiles.”

On the other end, it was complete silence. The same thing happened in CDC. Robinson knew what they were thinking. He wanted to break the most sacred rule in the entire nuclear powered navy. Override reactor protection. But he had the authority. If Reagan needed new cores later, so be it.

Finally, a response came in. “Captain, RO, aye. Skipping repair and powering reactors. Increasing shaft turns to one hundred ten percent.”

Aboard Lake Erie, the Captain received orders to use the developmental build. He seriously doubted it effectiveness against malware, but it wasn't a debate. He had to protect the fleet from fourteen ballistic missiles. He told his Weapons Officer to go ahead, and she started it up.

A tense minute dragged on as Lake Erie’s developmental Aegis Warfare System initiated a warm start, booting up as quickly as possible. Just as the cruiser would be too late to save the carrier, SM-3 missiles launched towards the DF-21s. Many hit their targets, but three missed and dropped into ocean, their fuel spent. The remaining three DF-21s fell down to earth. One missed as Reagan sped out of its path, one was taken out by the carrier's self-defense, and one wasn’t even aimed at Reagan. It streaked towards the battleship USS Pennsylvania instead. It was then that the crews realized the Chinese plan.

“Captain Ross, prepare for impact!” Robinson yelled via line-of-sight comms.

Aboard the battleship, Ross had come to the same conclusion. He ordered everyone to the closest end of the ship. It wasn’t long before the bow and stern became too crowded, and crewmembers spilled out onto the deck. They watched in horror as the DF-21, now clearly visible, fell. Still in the battleship’s Bridge, Captain Ross yelled, “Brace for impact!” and rushed his bridge crew to the bow.

Celestia watched helplessly from Reagan’s CDC as the missile continued on. If there was only some kind of magic shield…

Wait a second, she thought. I can use magic!

Celestia closed her eyes and threw a magic barrier around Pennsylvania. When the DF-21 hit her shield, it cracked its casing with a deafening roar. The princess was knocked to the floor in CDC by the force as the missile’s kinetic energy transferred directly to her, losing her concentration and falling unconscious.

The DF-21 kept going. Its momentum gone, it had fallen slightly to the battleship’s starboard side as it slammed into the shield. Then the shield gave out, and the missile fell into the starboard side of the superstructure. Its warhead detected the steel next to it and set off.

With an earsplitting boom, Pennsylvania lost her Bridge section, her radar equipment, and two dozen unlucky crewmembers. The battleship rocked violently from the blast, threatening to capsize on the relatively untouched port side. But she righted herself, more or less, and began to list to starboard. She was taking on water.

Captain Ross was almost certain that he lost his ship, but wasn’t ready to give up. He ordered his damage control teams to converge on the hole, and everyone else was to abandon ship. He personally stayed behind to go down with the ship, and to help stem the water flowing into the hull.

All around both sides, inflatable lifeboats sprung open. Sailors hurried in as fast as they safely could, and cut the lines, falling into the cold sea below. They rowed away quickly in case the massive ship created a suction force when it sank. Deep in the bowels, cold seawater flowed into the corridors faster than the damage teams could pump it out. This meant they couldn’t get to the affected area and seal the breach. The battleship was doomed.

Celestia woke groggily in Robinson’s arms as he held her close, hoping she hadn’t been killed. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw him looking down at her worriedly.

“What happened?”

“You must’ve tried to protect Pennsylvania with magic, but the kinetic force of the DF-21 knocked you down. The shield collapsed, and Pennsylvania was hit on her starboard side. She’s currently taking on water.”

“No! We can’t lose her! Pennsylvania means so much to so many ponies. I will not stand by and let the men and women aboard her die!”

“Celestia, you need to relax. Captain Ross ordered the ‘Abandon ship.’ There’s nothing we can do.”

“To hell with that.” The princess cursed as if she wasn’t from a Y6-rated TV show. “Get me to my feet. I can keep her up, but I don’t know for how long.”

She shakily stood and concentrated on the video screen showing the WWII battleship. Slowly, the ship stopped sinking and stayed still. Then, like magic, the waterline inched its way back to the surface as the ship stopped listing to starboard and began to float normally.

The princess shook involuntarily, not sitting down for a second, not taking her eyes off the screen. Amber could see the strain on her friend’s face. Robinson noticed the same situation, and became greatly concerned for the Equestrian. The two glanced at the other, sharing their emotions.

Outside, Americans, Chinese, and Russians alike could not believe their eyes. The sinking dreadnought had reversed and her evacuated crew took the chance to go back and repair the damage before she slipped under the waves for good. It was a miracle. They hurried to the blackened superstructure and reorganized who was on what inflatable lifeboat. Soon, several lifeboats were empty, and some sailors laddered up to the deck, where they climbed over the rail and raced to get ropes of some sort.

The sailors that found ropes hurried back to the damaged deck, tying the ropes to the rail and tossed the ends overboard. Down in the lifeboats, the crew grabbed the falling ropes and tied themselves to them to scale the hull. They shouted when ready, and the ones on the main deck strained to pull on the ropes and tie another knot on the rail when the man being carried was just above the large hole in the battleship’s side. It was tough, but Pennsylvania’s crew was more focused on saving the ship.

Someone found duct tape, and tossed it down to the hanging sailors, who were working with mess hall knives to cut the four emptied inflatable lifeboats. They then used the duct tape to attach the strips of plastic across the gap. Out of the three hanging crewmembers, one was using a welder to melt the twisted metal and reform it into duller edges, helping prevent the plastic strips from being torn and being rendered useless.

In the corridors, the damage control teams pumped the seawater down to wading level, and hurried to assist their shipmates. Captain Ross worked tirelessly to help soften the sharp edges of twisted metal, and cut away hull plating to make room for the orange lifeboat plastic. After four hours of hurried labor and quick thinking, the battleship’s hull breach was sealed. Sections of railing were cut and moved to the plastic cover as support against the pressure of water, and just in time. Celestia had worn herself out enough to simply faint from exhaustion.

During the four hours of insane work speed by Pennsylvania’s crew, the Russian aircraft were severely beaten and shot down. But the cost of this victory was twenty Super Hornets. The cruiser Lake Erie launched more SM-3 missiles to counter the continued DF-21 assaults, and wirelessly transmitted their developmental build to the other ships, which then initiated warm start to assist the cruiser. Anti-aircraft guns roared, knocking out every Russian fighter they could hit. Eventually, a crazy Russian pilot went kamikaze on Reagan and slammed into the catapults. This was followed by more attempts to inflict as much damage as possible, but Russia soon ran out of planes to use. Finally accepting defeat, they retreated back to Stormwater Cove.

Sadly, the Americans took some losses. The guided missile destroyer USS Chafee sank when the Russian kamikaze jets hit her right at the waterline. Celestia couldn’t save the destroyer, as she was busy keeping Pennsylvania from sinking.

Author's Note

Can I have feedback please? Nobody tells me if I'm doing fine or not, and it's driving me insane! I need to know how to improve the story! :fluttershysad:

The Battle of Stormwater Cove Part 4: Final Push

Captain Ross advised Robinson to press his advantage. If the Chinese launchers were out of ammo, the ships could cruise on to the island. There, the battleship’s crew would be in range to use their guns to support an invasion. With nothing else that seemed like a good plan, the admiral got the fleet underway.

During the battle, one of Reagan’s reactor cores had a meltdown when its fractured vessel was activated to provide extra power above safe levels. This crippled the carrier’s speed, and she limped to Stormwater Cove to launch fighters. However, that meant Reagan could only go at slower speeds. She may just be considered gone at this point by anyone but Robinson. But the Nimitz-class supercarrier was anything but as she chugged along.

On the Flight Deck, people raced to get the first Super Hornets in the air. Both Railgun and Artemis were first in line, hopping into the jets normally for the second cycle. However, those two pilots had come down with the flu, and were unfit to fly. The unlucky pilots were currently in the medical bay.

Railgun taxied his jet to the catapults, directed by men in front of him. They were crazy enough to be next to running jet turbines, even more insane to be telling him where to go. He latched onto the port catapult as that thought hit him. Yeah, these people are insane.

To his right, Artemis latched onto the starboard catapult. She waved to him; he returned the gesture. They had grown a lot closer after that scene with the missiles, lucky just to be alive.

Back in the present, Railgun kicked on his afterburners. Once again, his ordinance weighed him down. Hopefully, it wouldn't try to kill him like last time. To his right, Artemis did the same.

“Hey, goddess, what’re you doing tonight?”

“Nothing much. You?”

“Same. Dinner together in the mess when we get back?”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

Artemis’ catapult released, pulling her forward and flinging her over the bow. Seconds later, Railgun’s did the same, and he was over the Celestial Sea.

As the two waited for the rest of the cycle to launch, they circled behind a tanker, topping off on fuel.

Celestia was still in the medical bay sleeping peacefully, unaware of the possible danger coming. She had worn herself enough to be out cold for the past several hours straight.

A doctor sat beside her, gently stroking her hair. He waited patiently as she woke up, slowly opening her eyes and tilting her head. She was just coming back. Her eyes fluttered, and she groaned.

“Sure, Luna. Can you get me a banana?”

“Princess, who are you talking to?”

“Mmm? Yeah, give that show pony some peanut butter crackers. I'll be there in a few minutes.”

“Princess!” The doctor shook Celestia awake. “Snap out of it!”

She groggily opened her eyes. She tried to sit, but the doctor stopped her. “You need to rest. You almost died, pulling a stunt like that. You're lucky we're professionals here.”

“What I need to do is get to CDC. I'm needed there.” She certainly didn't like lying on her back.

The doctor sighed. She was being one stubborn girl. “If you continue to resist, I will have to sedate you.”

“I can just teleport out of here.”

“Not when you're asleep.”

A resounding boom echoed through the carrier. Pennsylvania had fired one of her guns. A few seconds later, she fired again. The ground support weapons on the smaller ships followed suit, though much quieter compared to the heavy battleship cannons. Between the sharp sounds, Celestia could hear the whine of jet engines, extremely low since she wasn't close to the Hangar nor the Flight Deck. The invasion of Stormwater Cove had begun.

Celestia struggled to sit up when the doctor moved away to check on another patient. But her weak arms failed her and she fell back. Figuring that her legs would do the same, Celestia frowned. It looked like she’d have to wait anyway. Her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep…

In CDC, Amber coordinated Reagan’s last sixteen aircraft in the attack. When the Russian jets appeared onscreen, she grimaced. It was at the very least a five-to-one odds, stacking against her. She looked out of the corner of her eyes to Robinson, who shared her opinion. The Super Hornets had performed admirably throughout their journey, but they may all be gone today. This was most likely Reagan’s last battle ever.

The fleet was unable to take another hit like the previous day. The only magic-wielding person they had currently slept in the carrier’s medical bay, and was therefore incapacitated. No ship that sank today would be held up by the princess.

“It’s time.” Robinson stared ahead and ordered an officer to get the other ships on comms, and began a short speech when it was ready. “All ships, this is Admiral James Robinson aboard Reagan. It was an honor to be serving with all of you. If it be God’s will, may we survive this day to return to our families and reunite with our loved ones.

“In all my years in the Navy, I have seen the determination that resides in all of us here and now. I have seen true courage, true bravery, true loyalty to our country. I expect all of us to show that and try to defeat our enemy in battle. Godspeed, and good luck to you.” He teared up at that last bit, knowing most if not all the men and women under his command would surely die.

Robinson turned to Amber. “Begin the assault.”

She gave one somber salute and ordered all aircraft Weapons Free. the area ahead of the carrier group lit up with explosions as the American and Russian forces collided in the early-evening sky. Soon after, the few surface ships fired their cannons and launched their missiles. The bright orange trails of the missiles turned the late day back to noon behind them, and targeted Russian planes that slipped by the dwindling air wing. Balls of flame dotted the sky wherever the SM-3s struck home.

Robinson was sure it wasn’t enough for a safe landing, but Captain Ross aboard Pennsylvania thought otherwise. He ordered the amphibious assault to begin, and the battleship’s bow opened up to reveal a boat hangar extending a third of the way into the ship. Ross played his card; the battleship had been modified before its first voyage to protect Atlantean shipping routes to be capable of assaulting beachheads and her crew trained to stage the actual attack successfully. Now six dinghies surged ahead of their mothership, zipping under the aerial battle towards the beach. Each dinghy had thirty sailors trained as beach stormers, a grand total of one hundred eighty against who-knew-how-many on the island. Seventy-two were actually marines, so that helped a little.

Behind the dinghies the frigate USS Klakring cruised at ahead full, ready to start pelting the beach with its CIWS Gatling system and other small defenses. Initially not part of the plan, Robinson had decided to make his assault force a bit more protected as the reached the beach. But it seemed to pay off. Instead of the new MK 48 torpedoes Heavyweight torpedoes, Klakring carried two triple-launchers for the MK 46, a generation or two behind, which supposedly didn’t have the malware that dudded them.

Klakring launched a torpedo and wire-guided it around the dinghies and into a Russian submarine waiting to attack. The submarine couldn’t disable the incoming torpedo, and a huge plume of water erupted where it once sailed. She fired again, taking out another enemy. So far, the assault was a success.

In the aerial battle, Railgun and Artemis were close to death on multiple occasions. Their Super Hornets weaved through the deadly maze of missiles and jets. A fireball erupted to Artemis’ right; another American had gone down in flames. Glancing at her display, she saw only four left against the forty-seven Russians. The odds had increased to almost twelve to one. The enemy was now starting to ignore Reagan’s fighters and flying to either the carrier and battleship or the cruiser and dinghies.

She flew behind one trying to take out a dinghy and opened up with her Gatling gun. Soon, orange trails came out of the jet and it splashed down into the sea. Artemis soon turned around to assist Railgun before he turned to scrap metal.

“Artemis, I’ve got two on my tail! Where the hell are you?”

“Coming, sir!”

She fired on the two Russian jets from her ninety-degree angle, knocking one out of the sky almost instantaneously. The other maneuvered quickly to avoid destruction, but Railgun looped and took the kill. He then swooped and fired past Artemis, who dove instantly. The Russian jet behind her was enveloped in smoke, and spiraled into the ocean below.

“Thanks.”

“You, too.”

Suddenly, Amber’s voice crackled on. “All remaining fighters, defend Klakring. She’s taking heavy fire.”

Both inquired the frigate’s location. The answer was behind the dinghies.

Pulling on the yoke to speed back to the assault force, Artemis and Railgun saw thirty of the Russian fighters taking potshots at the relatively undefended ship. Her CIWS was pouring lead into the sky, but few shots hit home. Her other systems were running low on ammo, and the two pilots could see why. SM-3 missiles trailed their targets, small machine guns poured almost as much as the CIWS, and the enemy still had the advantage. The Russians swarmed the frigate so much as to be able to go after the dinghies closest to shore without fear.

“Artemis, take out those guys harassing our assault force! I’ll handle the guys around Klakring!” Railgun called over the radio.

“Yes, sir! See you on the other side!”

The two jets split to their target destinations, along with the only other Super Hornet still aloft following Railgun. Two Americans fighting against twenty-five Russians. This wasn’t going to end well.

An SM-3 from Lake Erie zipped by and hit an enemy fighter. Good thing the developmental build could recognize friend from foe, allowing the American fighters to fly in the same space as the missiles. Railgun wove through the mass of fighters, flying dangerously close to the frigate’s tower and catching a Russian off guard, sending it spiraling into the sea with his Hornet’s Gatling gun. He kicked on his afterburners and trailed another, splashing the jet.

His friend had reasonable difficulty flying at low altitude, weaving through the jets and losing one of the twin engines as a Russian opened up. Just before he could take the kill, however, a second missile from Lake Erie slammed into his fighter, and he fell towards the ocean surface.

Above the dinghies, Artemis was in a chaotic engagement. She had four Russians trailing her, no chaff left to dispense, and currently tried to lock on with her last missile. Getting a lock, she fired and the air-to-air missile accelerated into its target.

Artemis looped around, pulling several g’s as she did so, and fired her gun into the small swarm of enemy fighters that had ignored her. One erupted into flames and plummeted towards the ocean’s surface. Before it hit the water, she had already switched her target and shot down another. A trailing fighter locked on and took out her right engine. Before he could actually turn and pelt the fuselage, however, a shoulder-mounted rocket from the third-closest dinghy blasted him out of the sky. It soon locked on another, and took out the Russians one by one. Eventually, there were only the ones around the frigate and strike group that really threatened the fleet’s survival.

When I get back, that guy’s getting a medal. He deserves it.

Aboard Reagan, the Sea Sparrow and Rolling Airframe missile systems continually launched at the Russian threat. Their air defense had practically disintegrated, but not all was lost. Three Super Hornets remained aloft, currently engaging the Russians harassing Klakring and the dinghies. Their CIWS poured as much lead than conceivably possible, and every ship in the fleet defended like there was no tomorrow. For most of them, there probably wasn’t.

The guided missile destroyer USS Arleigh Burke, the only destroyer left in the fleet, was tanking hits. She sustained more damage than Robinson thought a ship her size could take, with holes blasted into the bow and stern. Her Bridge was hit by a spiraling fighter that trailed smoke behind it, and subsequently exploded. After that, she began to drift, having lost Helm control and her commander. She continued to launch the remainder of her SM-3 missiles, though, taking out as many Russians as she could.

Robinson watched in horror as the fire in her Bridge expanded rapidly, the flames licking the sides of her tower. The destroyer’s superstructure blackened, and she began to list to port as a Russian air-to-surface missile hit her just above the waterline. Arleigh Burke was taking on water, sped up by the already-extensive pounding she received. Her tower’s base melted, and it crashed over her starboard side into the sea. She suddenly burst into more flames as another missile hit her stern. Each hit on the destroyer made one more tear well up in the admiral’s eyes.

The final straw was when the damage teams couldn’t prevent the fire from reaching the magazine. It overheated quickly, and the resulting explosion lit up the late afternoon sky like a second sun. Hot gas and debris were flung high above the water and rained down on the surrounding area. The destroyer slipped beneath the waves, leaving an oil slick where she once was. Everyone in CDC lowered their heads, mourning the loss of her crew. They will always be remembered; that was for certain.

Far ahead of the fleet, the six dinghies zoomed towards the coast. Supported by sporadic shots from Klakring and Pennsylvania, they remained unscathed as they approached the island. With a little ammo expended helping that Hornet saving their bacon, they knew this was the final push. No other chances would be given.

The dinghies hit shallower water and kept going. They were designed to sail in depth as little as two feet, so fourteen was no problem. As they came closer, the undefended beach ahead became clearer. Since the Russians didn’t expect an amphibious assault to be staged from a fleet without amphibious craft, the job was that much simpler.

“Alright boys!” yelled a commander. “You know the drill! Get up that beach ASAP and don’t get killed in the process!”

The grim-faced sailors in Amphib 2, as it was known, crouched down low and prepared to storm the beach. Some prayed quietly, others counted down the seconds, and others readied their weapons. All of them were nervous about the charge.

Amphib 2 slammed into the two-foot water and its momentum carried it on towards the beach. When the boat stopped, its ramp-like forward door fell onto the sand, and the assault began.

The commander yelled his orders, and they charged into the unknown. The other dinghies, close behind Amphib 2, did the same. All one hundred eighty sailors surged forward, taking the undefended beach before the hour was up with no casualties.

“Captain Ross, this is Commander Scott. We have taken the beach.”

Captain Ross acknowledged the success and ordered the elimination of all Russian batteries on the island. The portal that had allowed the Chinese DF-21 anti-carrier missiles had closed, leaving only those batteries on the island. Throughout the night, Pennsylvania’s landing forces systematically took out the enemy airstrips and missile silos, taking few prisoners and securing victory for the Americans. At the cost of seventy from the island fighting, thirteen Super Hornets, and USS Arleigh Burke, the Reagan Task Force had taken Stormwater Cove.

Author's Note

If I could get some feedback on how this story can improve, please, please give it to me. I can't make it better if I don't know what's wrong with it.

Side Chapter: Admiral's Log

[Admiral’s log, day 39 of voyage.]

Our gamble has paid off; we have successfully taken the former pirate base Stormwater Cove from the Russians. Captain Ross aboard Pennsylvania pulled a rabbit out of his hat with that one. We never would have won without him.

However, our victory came at a cost. We are down to three fighters on Reagan, and two of them are receiving repairs to their right engine. I doubt Reagan will ever conduct flight operations, at least until we can find a way home and get much-needed support. If only our comms satellites weren’t jammed…

We also lost our last destroyer yesterday. USS Arleigh Burke took more hits than I thought possible for her size. Her magazine overheated, and all crewmembers are assumed dead. Nothing from the wreck is salvageable. I’ll have to conduct the funeral ceremony tomorrow in honor of their sacrifice.

On a better note, our battleship USS Pennsylvania is undergoing repairs in Stormwater Cove’s wharf. Hull integrity has been restored and her damage control teams have moved on to her Bridge and superstructure. The same thing is going on with USS Klakring, having sustained heavy damage while supporting our landing force. I have made a recommendation to decorate the frigate for her valiant service. They will receive a medal of some kind; of that, I am positive.

I have also put in a recommendation to honor our three pilots. Each one of them has earned any reward available to them, and one has specifically asked that one of Pennsylvania’s sailors be put in as well. He had apparently fired his shoulder rocket to take out several Russian fighters trailing the pilot, and therefore saving her life. The other men in this man’s assault craft claimed he picked up his weapon, loaded it, and proceeded to lock onto an enemy fighter, even against orders. Whether this deserves a medal or reprimand I do not know, but this is most definitely worthy of a Congressional Medal of Honor. I do not care if he gets court-martialed; I just want this guy to know that his service is greatly appreciated.

Princess Celestia is now up and about again. Right as the the final phase of the battle began, the doctor had sedated her with anesthetic so that she would actually get some rest and not die of exhaustion. Speaking of which, I might do just that if I don’t turn in.

[End log.]

Reports

“Sir, Pacific Command is back up.”

Robinson acknowledged the news. He was in CDC again, with Celestia at his right and Amber on his left. And after the loss of their small fleet’s two destroyers, Chafee and Arleigh Burke, the forced sinking of the submarine Nebraska, and the frigate Halyburton’s destruction before reaching the Atlantean port Nautinia, this was very good news indeed. But there would be no cheering tonight. The crews were busy repairing the ships.

Reagan was in drydock, having sailed into where the Russians had reserved for a carrier. They had obviously thought they could capture Reagan, and the Russian arrogance meant repairs would be easier. As was Pennsylvania, in a smaller dock meant for modern cruisers. Hull integrity had to be restored before either ship hit the open ocean. The rest of the fleet had pulled into the small wharf, their blackened superstructures listing slightly. It would take a Herculean effort to get enough repairs done in the time left before something else went wrong.

Robinson ordered the officer to report their success in taking Stormwater Cove and asked for more fighters. After all, he only had a damaged three left.

“Admiral, it is good to see you again. Your request may have to be put on hold, as we're working to eliminate the Russian and Chinese threats. However, you are the only ones in that world. And all American ships should be able to come home.” The admiral in Pacific Command sighed. “I'm sending reinforcements.”

“Thank you, sir. But I also have a few requests for the rest of the fleet.”

“What kind of requests?”

“Nothing much, sir. I feel that the crews of all ships should receive some medal. Every one of them served above and beyond most other ships in the Navy. In fact, I'm recommending some for the Medal of Honor. They deserve it.”

The admiral in Pacific Command was surprised. “Surely they can't have performed that admirably. They were most likely just following orders.”

Robinson wouldn't have any that ‘orders’ bullshit. “I have the entire surviving fleet as witnesses. This is serious, sir.”

“I'll have to speak with the President.”

“Then do it. My ship ain't going anywhere in the next week. And if you could replenish our SM-3s and other ordinance, that would be wonderful.”

“That can be easily done. We'll send three Atlantic fast attacks and four Atlantic surface combatants when the next portal to your location opens.”

“Thank you, sir. I will wait for their arrival.”

Robinson cut the transmission. His shoulders slooped down with relief. Celestia smiled wearily, and cast a communications spell. Moments later, the tired form of her commander, Crimson Dawn, materialized. Soon after, Princess Cadence and the Element bearers materialized, all except Princess Twilight.

They all were relieved to see Celestia alive and well. Having not heard from her in at least a week, that was to be expected. They gave the heartbreaking report.

“Princess Celestia, we have been unable to find Princess Twilight after the Everfree Castle was obliterated. We can only assume that she has either died or been teleported to another location, quite possibly the human world or the Crystal Empire. I'm sorry.” Crimson bowed his head.

Celestia’s shoulders sagged. This wasn’t what she’d been hoping for. Twilight was her prize pupil, her protege, now the Princess of Friendship. She couldn’t just be gone. “Did you actually find evidence of your predictions?”

“Yes.” Cadence solemnly used a levitation spell to lift a single object into view of the Princess of the Sun. It was Twilight’s crown, the one she used after putting the Element of Magic into the Tree. Beside it, already on the table, was a burned lock of Twilight’s mane, found after two weeks of fruitless searching.

Its shiny gold frame was burned. A fracture down the middle nearly severed the thing in half, and the once-beautiful gems at the points of the crown were either shattered or broken off completely. Even with a powerful magic shielding it from destruction, almost nothing was left. It showed the power of the blast that hit the Everfree Castle.

And to think that Twilight telepathically connected herself with it, thought Celestia. What was left kept Twilight alive, if barely. Unless, of course, the blast severed the connection, which was as equally likely. Until now, Celestia had underestimated her opponent’s capabilities.

She stood straight, signaling that she was about to issue an order. “Keep searching for Princess Twilight. We cannot lose her, not now. And launch an offensive campaign. Crimson Dawn, you have my authorization to take any city conquered by the Crystal Empire and to devastate their supply routes. I know this isn’t like me to order something of this destructive scale, but Sombra has left me no choice. Do what you must.”

Crimson saluted. “Yes, ma’am. I hope to see you once this is all over, cousin.”

Celestia nodded. “As do I.”

The spell ended. Amber, who’d been watching the whole thing, showed her emotions despite attempts to hide it. The (controversially) most central character in all of MLP was quite possibly dead. If that wasn’t enough, Equestria was on the verge of being conquered by Sombra, Princess Luna had been assassinated, and shit generally hit the fan of history. And there seemed to be nothing she could do about it.

To hell there was.

Equestria was not going to be conquered. Sombra was not going to win. That much was certain if they could get to the Dominion, where they could get help in reviving Luna and Twilight if necessary.

Robinson thought the same as his CAG and former Air Boss. Determination spread to the rest of the crew in CDC, and eventually the rest of the fleet. As soon as Reagan and Pennsylvania were restored to manageable sailing ability, the fleet would head north. They had two goals in mind: getting home, no matter the cost, and bringing balance to both worlds.

Author's Note

Short (but maybe not sweet). When I write the other side of this section of timeline, Everything on the Equestrian side of the world will be explained, even Twilight's absence. So don't worry about it.

The Dominion

Five days later, the submarine Omaha sortied out to sea, looking for the new arrivals. They had reportedly gone through the rift, and the only thing left to do was to find them. With three fast attacks, four surface combatants, a refueling tanker, and a cargo ship loaded with supplies, their safe coming to Reagan was critical.

It didn't take long. The new ships were five knots from Stormwater Cove, already sailing towards the island. After being introduced to Robinson, the captains returned to their ships and prepared for a longer voyage than they thought it would be. They then told their crews and conducted several emergency drills.

One of the submarines, USS Annapolis, had the most experienced captain this side of the Atlantic coast. The Reagan Task Force felt honored to have him in their ranks. Having turned down flag rank in favor of ending his career at sea, Captain Reynolds was about as experienced in submarine warfare as Robinson was in carrier tactics, if not more.

With all the support coming in, Robinson almost forgot about his new fighter wing. It flew through a rift and to the carrier, landing quickly and bringing fresh pilots. The Navy version of the new F-35B Lightning II made up more than half, and it was the most advanced air superiority fighter in both Equestria and Earth. Most of the rest of the approximately eighty-five jets were the standard F/A-18 Super Hornet, which Robinson was glad to see. Lucky for him, one F-22 Raptor squadron had been modified for Navy use, its Air Force pilots replaced with Navy ones. Also, a Marine Expeditionary Force, known as MEF 4, came through to provide the fleet with more capable land-assault forces. And each of the amphibs carried their own small wings, as they were literally the size of another country’s own aircraft carrier. Compared to Reagan, they were mini-carriers. This brought Robinson’s total fighter count to one hundred two.

After a week of repairing the supercarrier and battleship, the Reagan Task Force set sail to the north, heading for Dominion territory. General Quarters was set on all ships as a precaution, but Robinson wasn’t sure it’d be enough. His five fast attack submarines lacked functioning torpedoes and the Aegis Warfare System was still down for the four surface combatants from the Atlantic Fleet. The admiral made sure that the new ships received Lake Erie’s developmental build to fix the second issue. As for the first, there wasn’t much they could do at the moment.

The trip was uneventful. No Russians nor Chinese threatened the Americans if they were even in the area. It was probably because of Stormwater Cove.

As the fleet approached the mouth of the Northern Run, they were stopped by a small group of wooden frigates. The square-rigged wind-powered ships were large enough to have iron-reinforced hulls, but they were tiny compared to their opponent.

As the two groups neared, a Unicorn used a communications spell to see the top of the flat-topped Reagan without getting in harm’s way. Celestia saw it, though, and pulled the Unicorn through the spell and onto the Flight Deck. She then teleported down to him and transformed into her alicorn form.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“I am Captain Joker Face, miss.” Still bewildered by the sudden teleportation, he finally looked up. “Princess Celestia? What is the ruler of Equestria doing way out here?”

“I require the Dominion of Apollo’s assistance. It is the most advanced both technologically and magically, isn’t it?”

“Not to disagree, Princess, but it appears that you have a more technologically advanced society.”

“This fleet? No, Captain, this fleet belongs to the United States of America, on planet Earth. We just happen to have a mutual interest.”

“Well, Princess, you’ve come to the right place, then. I will see if my commander will allow your friends into Dominion sea.” He teleported back to his own ship, fairly shaken and prepared to be hit by many reprimands.

Once aboard his ship, DAS Eagle, he went to his commander’s quarters and knocked. “Sir, I bring news about the group of ships before us.”

“Good, good. Come in, Captain.”

Joker Face entered the room. His legs were shaking with fear, but when he saw the commander’s face, he relaxed. Admiral Jackpot was in a good mood today. “Sir, they are Americans. Or rather, they claim to be. The fleet is allied with Princess Celestia of Equestria, and every one of their ships is far ahead of our technology. They need only one ships to destroy our entire navy.”

Admiral Jackpot sat back in his chair and nodded. This news wasn’t too bad. “What do they require of the Dominion?”

“Princess Celestia has not disclosed that information. However, she has made it clear that this is in fact a serious problem she believes only we can solve.”

This was definitely an opportunity to show the world that the Dominion of Apollo had not been fazed by the failures of war against Atlantis. To resurrect the respect they deserved. “Ask Princess Celestia if she would kindly join me on the forward deck. Negotiations must begin.”

Captain Joker Face teleported back to the carrier, where Celestia waited for his return. He asked her to go to Eagle, but she kindly refused, saying that she felt safer aboard the carrier. If the Dominion wanted to speak, their representative would have to come on her terms.

Admiral Jackpot was initially pissed about it. But he decided it would be for the best. He had Joker Face teleport the two of them to Reagan’s Flight Deck. acknowledging the princess, he saw that two humans had come out of the large tower on the carrier’s starboard side and were heading over to the group.

The two sat down in some chairs Celestia magically brought over. She introduced the middle-aged man as Admiral James Robinson of the U.S. Navy, and the blonde woman beside him as Commander Amber Hamilton, the Air Boss and CAG aboard Reagan. Agreeing to act civil towards each other, they all began negotiations.

“Princess Celestia, what concerns you so much that you come all this way for help?” asked Jackpot. It had to start somehow.

“This concerns not just me, but the whole world. The Americans are not of this world, and neither are their enemies, the Russians and Chinese. They are here because a rift has opened between the two worlds.”

“And do you know how this rift may have opened?”

“No, but I suspect it was already there for thousands of years, and jump-started by my sister’s death and the destruction of the Tree of Harmony.”

“I am sorry to hear of Princess Luna’s death. She was a good leader. And the Tree… that’s horrible. We must leave immediately to Amyfalone to continue discussions. That is, if your fleet can keep up. Every ship in the Domination Navy is capable of sixteen knots.” Jackpot smiled.

His smile faded with Robinson’s reply. “At ahead flank, this ship alone can speed at more than twice that. The other ships can do twenty knots if needed.”

“Then you will have to slow. No ship, friend or foe, can traverse Dominion waters without an escort.”

Buckingham Palace

Reagan’s ship horn blasted into the night as the carrier group sailed into Amyfalone Harbor, escorted by the Domination Navy Second Fleet. The sound carried all the way to the docks, though the carrier hadn’t even entered port yet. Her running lights were on, as were those of all ships in the force. This helped the captains to see each other, especially the Dominion’s wooden frigates. Without them, the frigates would have easily hit the darkness of steel hulls, causing chaos.

On land, the dock hands and other ponies hurried to find out what in hell made that blaring noise. As they reached the docks, Robinson had fireworks shot off from the Flight Deck, illuminating Reagan for the city to see. The other American ships followed suit, and a dozen red flares shot into the sky and exploded, their burning fragments falling to the ocean.

The ponies saw their own vessels near the massive ships and relaxed a little. After all, Admiral Jackpot had notified the harbormaster of his impending arrival, accompanied by technological beasts. And if this was him, the port had better be ready for their coming in. they hurried to ready the piers.

The next morning, the American fleet could be easily seen. With the largest Dominion naval vessel approaching eighty meters, the sight of steel monsters that were many times that frightened the local residents. Batteries aimed away from land, but the ships still unnerved the Dominion ponies.

DAS Eagle pulled up next to its home pier and cast the lines. When the gangplank was placed and steadied, her crew came ashore. Admiral Jackpot walked down to land and saluted his superior. “Sir, we have brought the unknown fleet with us. I can assure you that they have no hostile intentions.”

“I will see that for myself,” he replied.

An hour later, a helicopter flew in, carrying Robinson and Celestia in her alicorn form. It landed in the main plaza, the only place with enough room for touchdown to be safe. Celestia walked out, followed by the admiral. She introduced herself, and the harbormaster bowed. Anypony of royal blood was to be seen as such, at least to some degree. “Princess, we are honored to host you on this day. If you would follow me.” He stopped bowing and turned to the town.

The two followed him to the outskirts of Amyfalone, surrounded by an escort fit for an absolute monarch. On the west side of town sat a massive structure: Buckingham. The official palace of the Dominion of Apollo’s monarchy, it was made to impress both inside and out. Guards stood watch in every other tower and patrolled the gates. A solid gold statue in the main courtyard was a monument to Dominion domination, stopped only by Atlantis. Mixed into the stone walls was a silver roof resembling the color of moonlight. It meshed well with the gray walls.

Robinson thought the place behind the massive, thirty-foot-thick stone walls looked quite a bit like the Palace of Versaille in France. Much money was spent annually on keeping this splendor from falling into disrepair. Now to think of it, he thought, the outer wall seems to be made of obsidian. Very expensive to build an entire fortress with. He was certainly impressed with the palace.

The harbormaster lead them into the main throne hall. Its ceiling reached probably thirty meters into the air, with gold columns supporting the silvery top. The ceiling itself reflected the sunlight around, giving the impression of a starry midday indoors.

The Earth pony sitting on the throne stood up when he saw the group. Instantly recognizing Celestia, he bowed deeply in humble respect. She replied with the proper response, and nudged Robinson to do the same. He bowed, but didn’t go to the extent of kneeling. He was Christian, after all, and would only bow before his God. But showing respect for a monarch was probably fine.

“Princess Celestia,” the king said. His accent was a rich British one with a hint of Irish. “I heard you were coming, so I prepared for your expected arrival. Though I believed you were going alone.”

“King Flawless Ice, I thank you for your hospitality. A two-month adventure in alternate-world naval war was not what I expected. And before I forget, allow me to introduce Admiral James Robinson of the United States of America. He is in command of the Reagan Task Force, the last carrier group in the United States Pacific Fleet.”

“I prefer Robinson, sir.”

King Flawless Ice raised an eyebrow. He was about to ask who was running this America, but Celestia interjected that Robinson lived in a democracy. He simply wasn’t used to absolute rule. The king nodded in understanding. For a stallion from a bloodline villainized by Atlantis, he was actually quite the kind ruler.

He led them to the dinner hall. It was just as beautiful as the throne hall, but three-fourths the size. They sat down in the three spots at the head of the table and began talks.

“King Ice, I come for the assistance of your Dominion. After my sister was killed, a rift between our world and that of America has widened. Unless this rift is sealed, all of space-time will be destroyed.”

“Princess Celestia, it sorrows me to learn of your sister’s untimely death. Allow me to introduce my lead magic researcher and technological head, Lost Legacy. Sir Lost, if you could come to the dining hall?”

A few minutes later, a gray Unicorn that reminded Celestia of Starswirl the Bearded came through the solid oak doors leading to the research institute. He bowed to the monarchs, then took a seat at his king’s right. “What may I do for you today, my lord and lady?”

“We require a report on your latest magical findings. And you can cut the ‘Lord and Lady’ thing. I hate formality.”

“Yes, sir. We have detected yet another massive discharge of Equestrian magic opening the fifty-ninth interdimensional portal this month. While it was open, we were able to locate the source, and it was no doubt an alicorn princess. No other being has the power to do that.

"We are still analyzing the enormous discharge last month. It only happened for a few minutes, causing most of our available research to be undiscovered. We have yet to find the source, the point of contact, and its effects on the universe. I will provide you with more information as it comes, my king, but I’m afraid that’s as far as we can go.”

Celestia raised her hoof to ask Lost Legacy a question. “What was the exact date of this disturbance?”

“Precisely three and a half weeks, ma’am.”

Her face fell. The Dominion didn’t know the biggest problem to hit the world since Discord. “If I may, Flawless?”

He nodded, and she started. “Last month’s disturbance was King Sombra using his Gem. He blasted the Everfree Castle, destroying half the Everfree Forest and incinerating the Tree of Harmony, the Elements along with it. It is most likely that my former student, Princess Twilight Sparkle, has been killed in the hit.”

Lost Legacy lit up like a flashlight. “That’s it! Why didn’t I think of that?! If you all would follow me, there is a mystery to solve.” He stood quickly and raced to the research institute. For an old guy, he was surprisingly fast. Flawless Ice, Celestia, and Robinson hurried to keep up with the excited scientist.

They ran into the Magic Research Gallery, home to the most advanced magic detectors in the known universe. Thousands of tons of steel, aluminum, and gold wiring ran every which-way, telescopes glared directly at the sun, and screens resembling early computers did calculations to determine causes and solutions. It looked like a maddening cross between an evil scientist’s lab and a NASA facility.

Lost Legacy hurried to the magic supercalculator DX-99 and ordered the ponies to run a test with the Tree of Harmony and Elements destroyed, a large magic gem in the Crystal Empire, and the deaths of two alicorn princesses. They thought he was insane at first, but saw their king and ran the simulation. Legacy then ran to the control room, with its big screen running the simulation. The three following him finally caught up.

“Lost Legacy, will you slow down! I’m not as fast as you are.” King Flawless Ice wheezed.

“Sorry, sir, but this is the discovery of the millennium!” He was staring excitedly at the screen as DX-99 ran the calculations.

On the screen, anomalies appeared and disappeared at the same time and place as the Dominion had detected them. Celestia had given them the last piece of the puzzle, and now they could work to find a way to reverse the problem. As the four watched, the simulation ran on to six months in the future, when an anomaly was to hit Buckingham and rip the computer apart. Then it stopped and a recommended course of action appeared in the center of the screen: revive the alicorns and destroy the magical gem.

To Celestia, it was a confirmation of her worst fear. Twilight was dead.

Author's Note

Don't get upset about Robinson's religion. That may be one of the only references to religion in the entire story.

And Buckingham Palace is really the home of the English monarchy.

Hope For Equestria Yet

The Princess of the Sun spent the next several days in mourning. Both her sister and protege had died. Not even Amber could comfort her.

Meanwhile, the King of the Dominion and his scientists worked day in and night out to find a solution. There was always a light on in the Magic Research Institute, and it was never the only one. The telescopes tracked the sun and moon, searching for any sign in the heavens. The DX-99 computer ran constant simulations to get the right problem fixed at the right time in order to cascade into fixing the others. But without Luna, it couldn’t work.

Robinson got in touch with the Pentagon and asked for classified intel on alternate worlds. He obviously wasn’t getting anywhere at first, but then said that it was the only way to get home and stay there. For the entire week, he searched it all and got nowhere. But after those seven days of fruitless research, he found what he was looking for: a decoded blip that came from deep space many years ago. It was a Dominion signal trying to locate other habitable planets in order to one day get to them. The admiral stood up and ran to the Magic Research Institute.

“Lost Legacy! King Ice! I found something in old military documents!”

The two Unicorns looked up in surprise. They hadn’t found anything, and they had access to more equipment. “What?” they both asked at the same time.

“You guys won’t believe it. This signal hit my world in the late twentieth century. We spent years decoding it, and it comes from the Dominion.”

“What does it say?”

“‘We search for the ancients. One day they will return home to us and the circle of empires will be complete. The Dominion will rise to the heavens and rule the universe.’”

Flawless Ice jerked his head around. “My ancestors sent that out into the heavens seven thousand years ago. You’re saying that you actually received the message?”

“I guess so. We happened to have a radio telescope pointed the right way at the right time. But since that kind of message requires a certain broadcast system, where could it have come from?”

Lost Legacy, more refined in the ways of history, spoke up. “The Crystal Empire. We found that the most effective way to send something to the nearest habitable world and still be intact enough to be decoded was to use a magic blast. Back then, ponies weren’t as respectful for the dead, and removed fifteen alicorns from their tombs and combined their magic into a large gem.

“The first test to see if it would actually do anything was powerful enough to build a crater many kilometers in diameter into the ground. We created the Badlands, right next to the Macintosh Hills, which formed as the dust fell. Knowing the signal would degrade slowly, we took our chances and shot it into the sky. After that, we buried the gem under five kilometers of solid ice and rock. We left the area and rebuilt our society here, and have stayed to the present. However, most of our technology then was destroyed in war, and we had to start from scratch.”

Celestia soon came in to learn what was going on. The usual noise had nearly doubled in the past hour and the army was mobilizing. She found that there was hope for Equestria yet.

The Dominion had declared war on Sombra.

Author's Note

And thus ends Book 2. The landlubber's side of the story will be up soon.

The Whispering Mountain Pass

Midnight Shadow, Silver Comet, and Dazzleflash stood on the opposite end of the map table from Crimson Dawn. Princess Cadence and the Elements of Harmony had their shimmering images as well, nervous for the report that was about to come in.

“Princesses, they staged an assault last night, and I have no doubt that you know the victor, or otherwise this report would not be getting to your ears. But in the fighting, we lost three hundred on 3rd Street, two hundred forty-nine by Tartarus Bridge, and another two hundred during the retreat from Garnet Island. Casualties are practically off the charts, with hundreds if not thousands of civilians caught in the crossfire. Our military count is reduced to approximately seven hundred soldiers, ten medical officers, and no reserve. We have taken prisoners, but they could easily overwhelm us if they wanted with sheer numbers.” Crimson reported.

“How long do we expect the Atlantean fleet to take? You obviously aren’t going to hold back another attack of that scale,” asked Cadence.

“Four days, if they follow standard coastal routes. If not, they should’ve been here about three days ago.”

Out of nowhere, a communications officer rushed in. he had some kind of ridiculous grin on his face, and that meant good news. “Sir!” He saluted.

“What is it, soldier?”

“We’ve received word from the fleet! They say they’re about 228 nautical miles to the southeast, holding nineteen knots! Reinforcements are only twelve hours away, sir!”

“How many ships?”

“Five, sir. Trinity, Tranquility, Dark Phoenix, Firespit, and Raven Nightfall.”

Crimson perked up a lot more than usual. “Did you say Trinity?”

“Yes, sir. Why?”

“Because,” he said, a smile growing on him, “Trinity is the largest ship ever constructed. A hundred meters long, twenty meters wide, and fifty meters tall, with a grand total of one hundred forty cannons and a complement of over a thousand ponies. She is the pride of the Atlantean Navy.”

Twilight saw this as a possible threat to Equestrian national security. “I can’t let that fleet come into Twin Cantons Harbor. I just don’t trust foreign military enough.”

Cadence agreed with her sister-in-law. An extremely powerful fleet could wipe out Equestrian coastal cities within a week.

“I understand your concern, Princesses,” Crimson replied. “But if they don’t pull into the harbor, I will lose Manehattan. Our army has taken too many casualties. And you will lose this war. It must be done.”

The alicorns nodded. It was the only way for Equestria to survive.

“Only one question,” Cadence asked. “How’s Celestia doing?”

Two days earlier, several thousand kilometers from Equestria, the Princess of the Sun stood at the entrance to Whispering Highlands Pass, her route to Atlantis. Next to her stood a single Griffon, her guide to the Pass.

“Are you sure you want to go up there alone, Princess?” asked the Griffon. He had been instructed to show her the way, but could only go this far before she had to say he could come.

“I’ll be fine, thank you.” She began to walk forwards, putting one hoof in front of the other. This was as far as she had ever come from Equestria. From home.

The Whispering Mountain Pass was a fiercely guarded secret of the Griffons and Atlanteans, and for good reason. It was hard to traverse, with landslides, snowbanks, and sudden blizzards being the most common dangers. Also, one could get altitude sickness, becoming easy prey to hungry predators and the occasional dragon looking for a sex slave. But, if one could make it through, they had a time gap of potentially up to a week ahead of the ships, which meant more profit.
Every merchant group traveled in packs of at least ten, but twenty-five was the typical caravan size. According to her guide, one such group had recently left to Atlantis the day before Celestia arrived in Griffonstone. If she hurried, she might be able to catch up.

The Griffon turned around to go home. He took one last look at Celestia before spreading his wings and flying back to Griffonstone.

On the ground, Celestia continued moving her shaking legs, one step at a time. Not only did it seem crazy, but the trip was close to giving her a nervous breakdown. The cold, the threats - in fact, everything about this journey was insane.

The princess composed herself and kept moving. After about five hours, she used her magic to lower the sun and raise the moon, as needed to happen. It took almost all of her energy, but she managed. Dinner was rationed hay from her saddlepack, dried like astronaut food. For her drink, she simply melted snow and drank up. It didn’t taste very nice, but that was a price she was willing to pay. At least it meant she didn’t have to carry water.

The next day, Celestia woke to switch the sun and moon once again. When she finished, breakfast was exactly like the previous night’s dinner. Standing quickly, she felt a jolt along her back, and decided to build a fire in a cave when night came. The cold had caused her muscles to lock while she slept, and that was the source of her sudden pain. She telekinetically lifted the saddlepack onto her back, and continued on her journey.

Walking at a fast pace down the path, Celestia figured she would come across the caravan in a few days. That was assuming they kept the standard pace of thirty kilometers a day, while she held at forty-five in a gait. If she took the sky, the princess could possibly shave off several hours.

That seems like a good idea, she thought. I can get to some ponies that actually know the way faster.
But as soon as she spread her wings and took flight, she was hit by crosswinds, headwinds, tailwinds, updrafts, and downdrafts. Celestia was lucky to get back down to the snow-covered surface alive.

Never mind.

The princess walked on. The pass went up to thirty-six hundred meters above sea level, with high winds and freezing temperatures on most of it. Clouds hung in the sky quite low, but Celestia reminded herself that she was just close to them.
Wait a minute - clouds were controlled by Pegasi. They didn’t simply exist above a certain altitude, at least in Equestria. She frantically looked around, trying to find anything familiar. Nothing is recognizable in this snowstorm - wait, snowstorm? Where did that come from?

She found shelter in a small cave near her location. Compared to the blizzard outside, it was cozy, albeit damp. She lit a fire using packed wood and curled up next to it for a short nap.

It was supposed to be sundown when Celestia opened her eyes again. Figuring the time, she switched the sun and moon, and went back to sleep after a ration for dinner.

Author's Note

I know this is a chapter straight out of Siege of Manehattan, but this part of the series focuses on Celestia's journeys. This means I need to have all of the details.

I don't need feedback for this chapter, but feel free!

Plans And Pennsylvania

The next morning, after Celestia switched the sun and moon, they were able to identify the Russian pilot and his plane, one from WWII. He had been flying above the Russian coast on a patrol when a sudden crosswind knocked his aircraft to the side, and he spiraled into a hole in the sky to end up over the Celestial Sea. Once he regained control, he saw the carrier group and attempted to land for supplies and a way home, barely making out the American flag. He had assumed it was a secret weapon for the war against Nazi Germany, but realized his mistake when he noticed two extra stars on the flag. He honestly thought the ship was American, and was relieved to learn that it was, but paled when they told him the date they entered the Sea.

Meanwhile, Celestia slept in her quarters, specially modified for her use. She had gotten used to the constant noises and rolling of the carrier, and it actually quite pleasant. Admiral Robinson did his best to make sure she was comfortable since she was royalty, after all.

Her peaceful slumber was interrupted by a call. “Princess, Robinson needs you in the briefing room.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” she replied. “Just taking a nap.”

Celestia got out of the bunk and stood straight. She then teleported to the briefing room to meet Robinson. He and the other senior officers were seated around the tables, leaving one space open for her.

“Admiral.” The princess looked at the other faces. “What seems to be the problem?”

“The problem,” Amber replied, “is only known by Robinson. I’m just as clueless as you are.”

The admiral stood up when Celestia arrived. “Ladies, gentlemen, and princess, I have some interesting news. Our Russian friend is from the Second World War, and the newest addition to our fleet is confirmed to be USS Scorpion, lost at sea in May 1968. I haven’t the slightest idea why this is all happening, and I don’t doubt that you all don’t, either. But Celestia has given the possible explanation that her sister’s death combined with Reagan’s arrival into the world of a kid’s cartoon has ripped a hole in the very fabric of space-time, causing major events. Scorpion’s sinking may be attributed to coming here, and I’d rather not die far from home.

“However, Celestia has also given us some hope. Her suggestion is for us to get her to a country to the east, where they may be able to mend the break and get us home.”

The officers suddenly broke into chatter as they tried to comprehend the situation. It seemed as if they were in the position of Star Trek’s crew aboard Voyager in the show of the same name.

“Princess, would you like to explain further?” Robinson called over the noise. That got everyone’s attention.

“I’ll try.” She walked over to where Robinson stood, at the front of the room. “If we can get to the Dominion of Apollo, we can acquire advancements to send you home and revive my sister. According to my army’s current head, Crimson Dawn, they are the most advanced nation in the magical as well as the technological.”

Celestia continued to do her best to explain her plan in detail. As she finished, she told Robinson that steering closer to due east would prevent most encounters, as the shipping routes followed the coast.

Amber looked at her watch; they had been in there for two hours. Suddenly, a call from the bridge came. “Robinson, bridge. Scorpion has established several contacts off the starboard bow, thirty-five knots out.”

“How many contacts?”

“Wait, Omaha and Nebraska have picked up four contacts each, all corresponding to Scorpion’s.”

“HOW MANY CONTACTS DID SCORPION PICK UP?!”

“Four, sir.”

Robinson sighed. “Thank you.” He sounded exasperated.

“I’ll be there. Everyone, get to battle stations and sound General Quarters. Celestia, could you check it out while I get there?”

“Actually, I can teleport the both of us at once. Would you like that?”

His eyebrows raised. “Sure.”

She powered up her horn and the two appeared on the bridge. Robinson shivered, shaking his arms. “Woo! That felt really weird.”

The Officer of the Deck addressed the admiral. “Sir, we have all three fast attacks identifying contacts. Radio communication should come in any moment.”

Robinson nodded. His crew knew him well, well enough to take a guess at his plan and execute it a step ahead. The communications station blinked, and the sailor turned around. “Sir, we’ve identified contacts. It’s USS Chafee, USS Klakring, USS Halyburton, and - USS Pennsylvania?”

“Two frigates, one destroyer, and, - wait, what? Did you say Pennsylvania?”

The officer was just as confused as his senior officer. “Yes, sir. USS Pennsylvania, designation BB-38. Decommissioned in late August 1946, struck from the register in early 1948.”

Robinson scratched his head. Yet another puzzle had struck him full in the face. How had a battleship that served in both World Wars come to Equestria? More importantly to him, why wasn’t it sunk?

“Sir, Klakring is sending a message along radio.”

“USS Ronald Reagan, this is USS Klakring, designation FFG-42. Our few ships are heavily damaged with steering partially repaired. Pennsylvania requests to join our fleet. Should we accept or send them on their way?”

Robinson replied with acceptance to the battleship’s request. He would have to meet her commanding officer soon, or when he had time. For now, he had to be content with - wait, was Pennsylvania powered by wind? The admiral could clearly see tall wooden masts sticking out of the battleship on Scorpion’s video feed. Massive white sheets of cloth blew to the north, sending her to the supercarrier. Alongside sailed the smaller frigates and destroyer, clearly using their engines for movement.

After a few hours, the small fleet joined Reagan and her escort on their journey eastward. Pennsylvania sent a message in Morse code about the sea ahead, and activated her engines to keep up with the fleet. With little fuel, she could only go so far with the turbines, so Robinson had the other ships donate some fuel to fill the battleship’s tanks. He would’ve had some from the carrier go, but Reagan’s deck was too damn wide. Plus, he wasn’t sure if the carrier’s fuel matched, considering it was nuclear powered rather than conventionally. Fucking stupid nuclear power. At least the carrier doesn’t need to be refueled.

The combined fleet sailed on into the night as Celestia switched the sun and moon once more.

Author's Note

The fleet that joined them was the one that met the battleship, 100 nautical miles east of Reagan. They sailed northeast once steering was repaired, then met up with the carrier. As for the one to the west, they'll be in Crimson's side of this part of the timeline.
I know, language. But it's a shitload less than normal Navy speak, so deal with it. My parents were in the Navy, so I should know.
And yes, most of the more peaceful chapters will end with Celestia swapping the sun and moon. It'll get repetitive, but it has that feeling of tranquility, somehow...
Feedback appreciated!