September 26th, 1986 1721 Zulu
Two Kilometers from the Target Village
Griffin Claimed Territory,
Equestrian Badlands
A gray helicopter emitted a low-chopping noise as it propelled itself two hundred meters above the mountainous terrain below. On board the SH-60, a Marine Captain checked his magazine. He, as the folks in high command had chosen, would be accompanying and assisting a diplomatic team that would be meeting this leader of the griffins. The extent of which he would be involved, he didn't know; but he could only hope that these griffins would be friendlier than the ponies.
The Navy crew chief held up one finger to the helicopter's passengers and shouted over the roar of the chopper's blades. The Captain knew that this meant the helicopter would touch down in one minute, so he checked his rifle for the final time and got up from his seat. One of the other crewmen on the helicopter slid open the door on the right side of the Seahawk.
The Marine stepped out of the helicopter first, flipping the safety off his weapon and aiming down the sights in one fluid motion. After a 180 degree sweep of the area, two diplomats in suits stepped out of the helicopter, one of the men using his briefcase to cover his head from the back wash of helicopter's rotors.
The makeshift group made their way towards a village, that was visible in the mid-morning light. "So, who is this guy exactly?" The Marine asked, in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"King of the Griffons, says he wants to work with us, as they are threatened by the recent Equestrian-"
"Greetings," A large feline-like creature spoke, a stereotypical crown atop his head, "I am Gryphaldo III,, King of the Griffons."
Sam watched the king shake one of the diplomats' hands.
"Quite an impressive entrance that was," He began, and the Marine already began to zone out.
26 Hours Earlier,
Unidentified Location,
Soviet Air Force Captain Gregory Paulkin
The pilot slid his last magazine into his Makarov. He had attempted to give his coordinates to rescue teams, but to no avail. More of the damn incompetent pony soldiers advanced on him as he unloaded his last eight rounds into the group. Click. The sound that he had been dreading the moment he would hear it had come. He dropped his pistol and got on his knees, putting his hands behind his head. He screamed in accented English. "Don't shoot- I'm surrendering!"
The ponies that took him were black, and looked much more menacing then the others he had seen, but he figured they were simply their spetsnaz. The more the pilot thought about it, he became confused, You'd think they'd have threatened us with these guys, they are quite a bit more threatening then their front line troops.
As one wrapped a blindfold around his eyes he noticed they looked less mammalian and more insect-like, and that worked to further unnerve the captain. The more Paulkin thought about it, the less and less they seemed to be ponies.
September 26th, 1986 0112 Zulu
Unidentified Caverns,
Interrogation of human prisoner
As Paulkin came to, he heard arguing.
"-We need to swap them out there's no way we won't get-"
"You have a point. We simply need to delay their advance for maybe a week, and then we can get out without them ever finding out."
Gregory had no idea who and what was speaking, as both voices were raspy and his eyes were still covered by the blindfold. He heard, "Get the information you need from him." The second voice spoke, before he heard steps fading off into the distance.
The other one apparently picked him up with a grunt. He must have thought he was still out. As he was set on the things' back, he seized the opportunity and choked the thing to the ground.
He pulled his blindfold off, his right foot resting on the bug's chest. He cuffed the creature's neck and asked a question. "What are you?"
The creature coughed out a reply he could barely hear, "Changeling."
The pilot could guess why they didn't just convert him- they needed information. From what he'd heard, the converted were brainwashed so heavily they couldn't get any information out of them at all. Unfortunately, he had no idea where he was making an escape nigh impossible. The only weapon he had was his knife that he found on a crate, next to his unloaded pistol and radio. His pistol didn't count- simply because it was dry.
After checking his radio, and getting no signal. (Which came to no surprise to him, as he was inside a cavern.) He had his pistol out so he would be more intimidating if he was spotted by a guard. Soon, however, what he thought was a woman's crying interrupted the still sound of his footsteps.
He moved his right hand onto his knife and kept his left on the grip of his handgun. Then he saw the pony that made the noise and immediately became confused. What the fuck is she doing down here? The captain wondered to himself as he slid his pistol back to his holster and pulled his knife out. As he got closer, he could see she had some physical damage, like a prisoner would.
The pilot didn't confront her for an obvious reason- she could probably take him if he gave her the chance. He then ran at her and shouted. "THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR FUCKING WITH RUSSIA!"
She turned around to see the pilot coming at her, but it was too late- within a second he had her pinned to the ground, and was twisting her foreleg at an awkward angle. He brought his knife to her neck. "Any last words, imperialist pig?"
"I'm not the one you want," She gulped.
"That's what they all say," the captain replied nonchalantly.
"Changeling queen- she tricked everypony. I can't believe nopony caught what she did. It's crazy she got away with it with Cadence- but with me immediately after the first time?" She sighed, "My guards were supposed to be the best of the best. But Chrysalis now controls this palace, and this country. It's been that way for a month and a half now-I don't know what she's doing. You've got to believe me."
Gregory's eyes widened in realization. Something about the way she said it- it sounded like the truth; like it fit with where they were and 'Celestia's' reason not to negotiate.
He looked at her, the real Celestia, and said, "Let's get the hell out of here."
September 26th, 1986 1800 Zulu
The War Room,
The Pentagon,
Washington D.C., United States
"The griffins are working with us sir, they're sending us units to give our guys guidance," The Marine General reported with a pleased expression to Reagan, "As well as an entire division straight to their capital city."
Reagan was glad to hear the news, it would certainly help show the media that even other aliens hate the ponies as well. The President's critics decided that a war with aliens was 'warmongering', especially due to the fact that these aliens looked like something out of a little girl's cartoon. Hell, it was a wonder Celestia didn't have to deal with Hasbro's lawyers yet, in addition to the joint efforts of both Warsaw Pact and NATO countries that were moving into her territory.