Shell Beach, Equestria
10 Minutes Later
Constellation sped through the air, the wind rushing through her mane as she beat her wings as fast as she could. As she looked down on the town of Shell Beach, she spotted the home of the local guard commander, and went into into a nose dive, desperate to inform him of what she had just witnessed.
Though only four guards made up the Shell Beach detachment, Constellation was well aware that they would be far more capable of dealing with the situation then she was. Landing on the ground with a muffled thump, she rushed to the front door, beating it repeatedly with her foreleg.
“Lieutenant! Lieutenant! Open up! Please!” She yelled near hysterically.
She was interrupted when the door swung open. A tired, aged stallion poked his head out the door. “Constellation, why are you banging on my door at this hour?” he asked. He frowned, then looked around. “Why’s the sun up? It’s midnight!”
“Lieutenant, there were these huge metal things, then they blew up, and now they’re all DEAD!” Constellation screamed, now in full hysteria.
“Constellation! Calm down!” The Lieutenant’s sharp voice brought her back to the real world. “Calm down, and tell me what happened. Slowly.”
“Okay,” Constellation said. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she calmed herself down. “I was taking a midnight flight along the coast. All of a sudden, it was daytime-”
“... what?”
“-and I landed, and I looked out toward the sea, and there were all these big metal ships coming towards shore!” Her voice sped up, going back into hysterics.
“Ships? Heading toward shore? Are you sure?” The Lieutenant looked concerned.
“Yes, but that’s not all!” She exclaimed, “When they got close, this... force field or something appeared in front of them, and they all blew up!”
“... They all blew up?”
“They all blew up!”
“Okay, then.” The Lieutenant wasn’t sure what to make of the story, but he knew it had to be checked out.
“All right, let me get into my armor,” he said, heading back inside. Constellation touched him on the side. He stopped and turned back to her. “What is it?” he asked. “There’s no time! Please, just follow me right now!” Constellation turned tail and spread her wings, beating them hard to get herself off the ground. Accelerating quickly, she sped toward the coast.
The lieutenant sighed, and spreading his own wings, he took off after her. Catching up, he tried to reason with her. “Look, Constellation, at least let me get my troops.”
Constellation turned around. “But-”
“Look, even if anything did happen, I won’t be able to do anything without the rest of my troops! There are two guards in full armor and on duty at the outpost. Can we at least get them?”
It was Constellation’s turn to sigh. “Alright,” she said.
Inside the outpost, there was a flurry of activity. “What’s going on here?” The Lieutenant demanded. One of the other guards, a unicorn, looked up. “Sir, we’re trying to figure out what’s going on! One moment it was midnight, the next, it was the middle of the day!”
“Braveheart, send a messenger to Canterlot. Lightning Twister, put all that down for now, and just follow me. Constellation here has something we need to investigate,” the Lieutenant ordered. The two guards and mare exited the building, and took off toward the coast.
Captain Dunbar approached the horses that had landed on his deck quickly but carefully. A single one of the winged... things moved away from the group, striding towards him. He was clad in the same golden armor as the others, the only difference being a dark red crest on his somewhat archaic helmet, as opposed to the light blue of the others. For a moment, they stared at each other.
“Greetings.” The horse said simply. Dunbar couldn’t formulate words to reply. Instead, he just stood there, staring. This horse had just spoken to him, his senses told him. But it couldn’t have. Horses didn’t talk. “Is something wrong?” It spoke again. Dunbar shook his head a bit, shaking himself out of his stupor.
“I... Uh....” He started, “G-Greetings, I’m Captain Jonathan Dunbar. Who are you?” He inquired politely. Inside his mind, he was screaming to himself, I’m talking to a horse! Horse! As in, a non sentient, smelly, filthy, animal! A BLOODY HORSE!
The horse looked at him impassively. “I’m Lieutenant Strong Wind, of her majesty’s royal guard,” he said with a rather pompous air, “Are you in charge here?”
Meanwhile, on the bridge, everything was in organized chaos.
“Sir, it looks like they’re actually talking!” A sailor reported.
The Officer of the Deck, Lieutenant Powerson, nodded. “Keep an eye on them.”
“Sir.”
They continued to watch as the captain and the horse conversed. After about ten minutes, the equines took flight, heading back toward the barrier, leaving behind an astounded captain. After a few moments, the captain made his way back up to the bridge.
“Sir?” The OOD inquired, “What just happened?”
“Well, Lieutenant, I just initiated first contact with an alien species.” The captain said dryly. He appeared somewhat shell shocked by the events that had just taken place, but he composed himself and kept talking. “Those ‘horses’ actually call themselves ‘ponies’, ruled by a ‘Princess Celestia’.” Dunbar sat down, and putting his forehead in one hand, started to massage his temples. “They want a meeting with our world leaders. Send all that to Western Approaches. Get back to your stations.”
For a moment, the bridge was silent. “You heard the Captain!” The XO barked out, startling the bridge crew back to their duties. The First Officer turned to the captain.
“What are we going to do in the meantime, sir?”
“Wait for orders,” the captain replied, “For now, see if we can get into contact with HX-1. See what their situation is.”
Royal Navy
Western Approaches Command
Plymouth, England
As always, the WAC was bustling. Female officers were moving pieces around the gigantic map mounted on the wall, blackboards stating german submarine sightings were updated, telegraph and telephone transmissions were sent back and forth, and officers consulted each other on naval tactics. In one corner, an inconsequential naval Sub Lieutenant received a moderate-high priority message from the HMS Berwick.
The officer glanced down at the message nonchalantly, then jolted and did a double take. He reread the message once, then twice, then he shook his head and read it a third time. He really didn’t know what to make of it.
“Um..... sir?” He called out, catching the attention of his supervisor, Lieutenant Commander Hunter. “What is it?” He asked, walking over. Wordlessly, he was handed the newly received message.
“Was this just recieved?” Hunter asked, eyebrow raised. The officer nodded. Hunter was bewildered. “Pranks” simply didn’t happen over secure military channels, on pain of a court martial, which left only three options. Germans had managed to get onto the frequency, something had been scrambled in transmission, or... it was true.
“Request confirmation,” Hunter ordered, “and ask for authentication.” The Sub Lieutenant nodded and started typing. Hunter looked back down at the message. If their communications had been compromised, the reply message would not be authenticated, and if this had been a transmission error, it would be corrected. There was no way it could be the third possibility. In fact, it wasn’t even a possibility.
“Sir, incoming message,” the officer said out loud. Hunter looked down and watched as the message typed itself out. His mouth started to drop open as he realised exactly what it was saying.
“Sir, message is authentic,” the radio officer said.
Hunter shook his head, took both messages, and headed for Admiral Dunbar-Nasmith’s office.
Approaching it, he hesitated before knocking. The Admiral had been a naval officer in World War I, and never tolerated any bullshit. Hunter shook his head. He needed to know.
“Enter!” A voice came from inside as he knocked.
Hunter entered the office and saluted. “Sir!” He said.
“What do you want?” Dunbar-Nasmith asked, not looking up from his desk.
Approaching the desk, Hunter put the messages in front of him. “I think you need to see these, sir.”
The Admiral picked them up and read them slowly, the expression on his face changing from general annoyance to astonishment. “Has this been validated?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Send another message. Ask for additional confirmation. Make absolutely sure this isn’t a prank, or a misunderstanding. Which it probably is.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hunter saluted and left his office, headed for the war room again. The Admiral was probably right, of course. Talking ponies from a nation that had appeared in the middle of the ocean? Yeah, right.
On the other side of the room, reports started to flood in from multiple u-boat hunting groups about a massive, purple barrier that had appeared in the middle of the atlantic.
A chill ran down Hunter’s spine. A purple barrier? In the Atlantic? With the same description and rough position received from the Berwick? Hunter whirled around and headed back to the Admiral’s office.
The Prime Minister’s Office
London, England
The door opened with a bang, startling the Prime Minister.
“Mr Chamberlain, we need you in the war room,” A military officer stated. Without question, the Prime Minister stood up and followed him.
Passing multiple heavily armed guards, the two men entered the war room, where there were multiple maps and pictures already spread out on the table. “What’s going on?” Chamberlain asked.
“Sir, we have multiple reports from across the entire theatre about this.” A general pointed to a picture. It was looking over the ocean, but there was a flat, strange object lying against the sea, stretching across the entire photo. “Sir, it’s some kind of dome. At least seven hundred miles across. Dozens of reports, but the most worrying one is the one received from the HMS Berwick.”
“According to them, sir, they made contact with an alien race,” another officer spoke up. Chamberlain didn’t know how to react. An alien race? Surely it was a joke.
“An alien race?” He asked, chuckling nervously. “Yes, sir,” the officer replied, “They’re horse like creatures, calling themselves ponies. They landed on the Berwick, and made contact with the ship’s captain. They say that they have a message for the world’s leaders, sir.”
"They'd like to meet with you, sir. We’re not sure if it’s such a good idea, but it’s your call. How do you wish to proceed?”
Chamberlain was nervous now. If they wanted to meet, they probably wanted to meet on the ship that they had made contact on. Meeting there, however, would require a transit through waters heavily patrolled by German U-Boats. He didn’t feel like getting blasted out of the water anytime soon.
“I’m not going out there. I’m far too busy,” he said out loud, trying not to betray his fear, “If these... ponies... want to deliver a message, they can come out here.”
A political advisor spoke up. “Sir, the message specifically said ‘World Leaders’. I believe we need to bring this to the attention of our allies.”
Chamberlain nodded so quickly his head spun. “Yes. Yes. Do that,” He exclaimed, “Tell the Berwick that the next time they see these ponies, to tell them that they can have a meeting here, in London, next week. Actually, let our allies know we need their leaders here next week as well.”
“Yes, sir,” came the unanimous reply. One by one, the men filed out of the room.