//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3: International Incidents 
// Story: An A-10C Warthog In Equestria 
// by An A10 Warthog 
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	As Lawrence climbed into the seat of the A-10, he remembered a problem that he now had; "How exactly are we going to get that ladder back folded back up?" 

The Warthog wasted little time in answering him, "Well, can't you get those tiny little horses over there to help?"

The pilot shrugged and was about to shout to the ponies, but then he noticed that the attacking force was already retreating, probably because they weren't anticipating a large Gatling gun to tear into their ranks, or because they simply lacked discipline. Either way, this was very good. He already knew that the apparently now sapient aircraft didn't have enough fuel to get into the sky and start killing things. In addition, this meant that he could easily begin negotiating with the ponies now that they knew what he, and the over 20 tons of hardened American metal that was currently sitting on the quasi-airport's dirt ramp.

"Looks like the aliens aren't as dumb as they look," Lawrence noted, "Damn good thing too."

At this point, the pilot noticed the pony commander, Spitfire, walking towards them. Her ears were still down, no doubt as a result of the pony's sensitive ears being exposed to the world famous cannon that gave the A-10 its reputation. Thinking about this, a thought popped into Lawrence's head, "How exactly were you able to fire the gun on the ground, anyway?"

If the plane could have given its pilot a dirty look, it certainly would have. "Apparently yours truly starting myself up and taxing, as well as using my weapons, without any human input, and then speaking to you doesn't surprise you, but being able to fire a thirty-mike-mike on the ground does? I wonder what your personal life looks like with such out of whack priorities."

The captain decided to ignore the plane's remark and turned to face the approaching group of ponies, Spitfire and the purple one who he saw earlier. When they got within shouting distance, he called to them, "For the record this doesn't mean I'm going to help you. That was self-defense of United States military personnel and assets," He paused and then turned towards the Thunderbolt, "No offense," after the plane gave a nonchalant 'It's cool', he turned back to the ponies, and continued, "and self defense doesn't entitle you to my, or the United States' assistance until a resolution from someone who makes significantly more money than myself. Sure, I'll still discuss whatever you guys want to discuss, but I am not in any position to fight for this country."

The ponies just sat there, somehow dumbfounded by the American's on the spot declaration. It was somewhat surprisingly the pegasus who spoke first. "I don't remember the, uh, plane speaking before, I didn't realize that it was alive."

"It?" The large jet asked in a disgruntled tone, "Apparently you didn't even bother to take a guess at my gender before  you made an assumption. That's offensive."

"Alright, he," Spitfire corrected, "I think." She looked towards the plane.

"Yeah, I guess I owe you an answer now. I really don't know what's going on more than any of you do. However, what I do know is that I really wasn't alive until I came here. It does sound weird, and I understand that, despite the fact I was literally born yesterday."

His answer made the pegasus frown. The man sitting in the cockpit simply looked at his watch again and mumbled something about narcotics in his coffee. The yellow pony decided that further questions wouldn't get any real answers, so she moved on. "So, you're still not on our side yet?"

The pilot shook his head, and both he and the jet spoke in unison, "Nope."

"We really need your help, you know," Spitfire pleaded, "If it weren't for you today, doing... whatever you did, we would have been destroyed. You did more damage in about two seconds than the sixty some odd ponies defending this little site. They outnumbered us 3-to-1, and despite their legendary discipline, they turned around, running scared. You could save many lives, and possibly make them willing to negotiate!"

At this, the American simply threw his head back and started laughing. "Oh, wow. You really are a one-trick pony- I mean you really have a one-track mind, don't you? For the final time, even if I wanted to help you, I couldn't. I'm not authorized to start a war for the USA, nor any of her allies. The only situation where I'd even be justified to do so, is if they were committing atrocities that were explicitly in violation of Geneva Convention or were making a clear attack on myself, or other United States citizens or property.  Besides all that, you've never even explained to me who these guys are, let alone the geo-political situation."

"They did attack you though, right? They were coming towards you and would have possibly killed you?" The Equestrian hoped she had gained a crucial point in this debate, but the American was in-reality somewhat anticipating this.

"No, they really didn't. As soon as the warning shots were fired, they fled. They never actually attacked me, nor this guy," he knocked twice on the fuselage of the A-10, eliciting a response of 'Yep.' from the Gatling-gun totting jet, "As a matter of fact, as soon as they became aware of our presence, they left," then the pilot pointed at the purple unicorn, "And plus, doesn't she still have some questions for us?"

This shut up the yellow commander, who realized she really shouldn't have been taking time from a discussion requested by multiple princesses, and made herself look stupid, from a point that this alien in her country had made that seemed well more prepared for her current situation than she was. Despite all that, the human had still claimed that he didn't have the preparation, knowledge or jurisdiction to help. What position did this put her and her kingdom in?

Twilight gathered herself quickly, and asked a question that shook Spitfire back to reality, "Yes, actually. I came here for the main purpose of figuring out what brought you here, and what exactly this means for reality as a whole. So, we never really became acquainted. I am Princess Twilight Sparkle, your names are-?"

"Captain Lawrence Julian Robinson, 25th Fighter Squadron, 51st Fighter Wing, United States Air Force, pleasure to meet you ma'm."

"And I'm nameless here, but you can call me 'Chuck'."

The pilot raised and eyebrow at this, but said nothing and simply decided to finally descend the ladder that he had been ignoring for a while now, and after he reached the bottom, he extended a hand to the pony who had been standing there, somewhat awkwardly, for the past five or six minutes. After he did this, the pony extended her own hoof and they shook on it. "I'm sure you have some specific questions in mind, and I really, really hope you didn't just come here to try to get me to fight for your country."

"No, no. I was going to ask some questions relating to you, your country, and 'Chuck'."





"What the hell is going on?!"

A C-RAM system took out a lone artillery shell that flew over the head of the US Army Staff Sergeant Gonzales, causing him to shout louder than he would have otherwise had to. It was half past three o'clock in the afternoon at the small barracks in Camp Castle, and due to an incident that had happened earlier that day, all personnel were required to maintain high readiness. Despite this, none of the members of the US Army's second Infantry Division, not even those stationed in this particular area, actually expected this escalation. But, the reality remained; no one answered his question, and he already had an idea of what was in fact, going on. So, he did what came naturally. 

"Sergeant Burkhart, find Lieutenant Grossman. See if he can give us our orders. The rest of you, get your weapons and equipment, and meet me here in ten minutes."

Burkhart saluted his senior, and he ran off to find their CO. The rest of the squad went in the opposite direction, away from the rows of barracks, presumably to follow the orders that the Staff Sergeant just gave.

Ten minutes later, the group of soldiers returned to that spot, all of them with their plate carriers, extra magazines for their rifles and machine guns, and several AT-4 launchers. "Alright, gentlemen. We will be boarding a Stryker, it'll get here in fifteen," he pointed towards a small patchwork of tents, and began walking towards them, "We're heading up north towards the DMZ, there we will fortify at a solid defense line. We will be given further orders as they come in."

And, an hour later, the squad was divided in two fireteams and were each sitting in a concrete bunker, these bunkers were on a hill, overlooking a small road next to a small patchwork of trees. Every now and then, the discombobulated North Korean forces would end up with a guy running out of the tree line. These people never lasted long, with the combined firepower of a full squad being more than a match for a lone infantryman. But, after some time, the North Koreans stopped sending people out of this particular tree line. However, it soon became apparent that the North Koreans hadn't given up, when a pair of tanks appeared out of the tree line, with a small number of riflemen moving next to them. 

"Clear backblast!" followed by the shot of an anti-tank missile, rang out from the rightmost bunker. The single AT-4 missile impacted the front of the tank, doing little damage, except for a black smudge where the rocket had hit. Another shout to 'clear' called out, followed by another rocket firing, this one hitting the same tank, but the same result was still had. The North Koreans decided that it was now time for their turn, and both tanks fired volleys at bunkers, and neither shot made its mark, on account on both tanks still moving. 

Meanwhile, the Sergeant was already calling in close air support from the right-side bunker, "Mustang 2-1, this is Bravo 2-3, we need immediate CAS support," the Sergeant then began relaying his position to the Air Force jet. 

By the time the plane arrived, the squad had fallen back to a dip in the terrain, just on the other side of the hill. As it was, they were running low on ammunition, and were hoping that the communists wouldn't accelerate their advance. But, they didn't have to, as the CAS arrived, and solved the problem that they were about to face; by blowing up both tanks quickly, with a one-second burst being fired at the tank on the right, and a AGM-165 Maverick nailing the second tank. The Americans mowed down the remaining enemy infantrymen, who without their tanks were no threat. Gonzales was the first to stand up from the trench, and then he said the only fitting words in this situation, "Wow."





"How the hell does a plane have a gender, anyway?"

The question took Chuck by surprise, and 'he' tried to come up with a quick reply, "Uh, yeah. About that, it's kind of a complicated thing, I'm not entirely sure you would understand."

Standing outside the small office building that he spoke to Spitfire in, Lawrence put one hand on his chin, with a smirk visible on his face. "You are aware that I am an American officer, with a degree in aerospace engineering," he paused, and lowered his right  hand from his I think I am more than qualified to 'understand' what point you are trying to make here. Unless of course, you don't have an answer."

The jet was temporarily speechless at this reply, "Well, to be honest, I'm not too sure if I understand it myself-"

"So, you don't know?"

"Uh, no. Not really."

"Then there's no point of asking you about it then."

The pilot and the plane finally understood each other. The plane could see the pilot was a man who didn't like not knowing everything. He also seemed to be stubborn about his ideas, which probably lead him to not wanting to go to war for the ponies. Chuck was of the belief that these black things were probably evil, despite the fact that the ponies still didn't answer either him, or his pilot as to who these opponents were. That upset the plane, as he wasn't honestly sure who to trust, other than Lawrence, especially when no one could give a consistent story.

The American pilot, on the other hand, believed that the plane was trying to understand what was going on, as one would expect from a newborn, as strange as it seemed to be thinking of a machine designed for death and destruction as such. Still, Lawerence wondered what the hell was even going on here, and why suddenly his own plane, the same one he'd been flying for several years, was suddenly alive and speaking to him. But, besides that, he also wondered how he ended up in this world, and where these 'ponies' came from. He found it all very strange, and he was having a hard time thinking normally because of it, but he was so far, doing just fine.