//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Non-Human Combatants // Story: An A-10C Warthog In Equestria // by An A10 Warthog //------------------------------// Lawrence woke up to the sound of a horn blaring. It was sometime before dawn, and it appeared this was how the ponies of the base were woken up in the morning. He was relatively used to this, and simply put his flight suit on and walked out. While his lack of a shower may have bothered some, it didn't matter much to him, knowing the facilities probably don't exist, and the fact was he'd gone much longer without showering before, it may be a long time before he will have the opportunity to shower again. With little to do, the American decided that it would be logical to ensure the ponies hadn't decided to steal anything from his aircraft during the night. Starting with a walk-around of the aircraft, the pilot checked all of the weapons systems of the aircraft, and ensured none of them had been tampered with. Out of the 9,000 pounds of fuel that he had taken off with, the plane only had about 1,500 left. He wasn't willing to fly a sortie with that little fuel, for sure. Even if he could pull off the strike, he would be left with no reserves if he needed additional fuel to stay in the air. He would need to get these ponies to give him kerosene if he wanted to get this plane back in the air again. Technically, the plane uses JP-8, but in a pinch kerosene should do the trick. The odds of the ponies using kerosene were not too low, however, the probability of them using JP-8, were infinitesimal. Other than his current situation with the jet's fuel, he still had to worry about the pony princess paying him a visit. Not long after the disappearance of Robinson over the North Korean border, Mustang 2-1 continued patrolling the skies around the area, searching for any sign of the down aircraft. Of course, at the first sign of possible enemy air contact, or anti-air contact, the 51st Fighter Wing had sent up four F-16s to ensure that the surviving A-10 not only would not share the fate of its sibling, but would be able to avenge its loss. North Korea had for many years established a habit of occasionally killing American pilots and their aircraft over the border without consequence, and it seemed like this time it would be no different, even if the Robert would be able to avenge his friend's apparent demise. Despite this, they still had a mission; find what was left of Mustang 2-2, and prevent any further North Korean attacks. This was when the F-16s called out 'ladder', indicating the presence of a pair of MiG-29 fighters that were coming at them on radar, and were currently 8 miles out. Unfortunately, they were not cleared to engage aircraft on the other side of the border, and would probably not be allowed to engage. "So, let me get this straight, ma'am," Lawrence asked Spitfire, "Your leader has a bounty on her head, and thus is afraid to meet with me, so she's sending her student, who is evidently now also a princess?" "We also may need you to help us in the fight," the Wonderbolt added. "You're shitting me," all semblance of any happiness left the man's face, "You think I'm just a hired gun? You really think I'm just going to fight for you, with no idea of what you're fighting for?! You must think you're top shit, just because you managed to get yourself an A-10 and a pilot you think you can just give him orders and have him destroy what you want! Sure, I'll speak to your princess, but I only owe my loyalty to the United States, and on special occasions to the Republic of Korea, but not to you, or your country." "Are you accusing us of bringing you here? We had no way of-" "How do I fucking know you're not working with the Norks, huh? I could see both you, and Kim Jong getting something out of it." The pony raised an eyebrow, and the American was sure at this point he'd just gone off the deep end. Giving a nonchalant smile, the human simply shrugged, "As a member of the United States Air Force, I can't just shoot people that are not enemies of the United States of America. I am sworn to defend America from her enemies, but I am not in any position to be causing the United States to be in any conflict with an alien race. I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't help you," He underscored the statement by shaking his head. "Do you even know what those bastards have done?" She asked, rage apparent in her tone of voice. Robinson was shocked. He honestly didn't expect the somewhat cute fluffy little pony to be capable of swearing. Shaking it off quickly, he came up with a retort. "I have stated before, regardless of my opinions on the situation or stories you may tell me, I do not have the jurisdiction to assist you with lethal force. That also brings me to my next point, how did you know that my plane is armed?" She shrugged, in an attempt at nonchalance, but her anger was still apparent, "Just a hunch." "Fucking hell, Twenty-Nine Spike!" As Mustang 2-1 let out the call that his radar had detected a launch, the F-16s reported similar calls. It was apparent that the North Koreans were engaging them, and that counter-measures and Sidewinders were the only diplomacy that would matter here, at fifteen thousand feet. The Thunderbolt II unleashed an ungodly amount of flares and chaff underneath its now glistening fuselage, breaking from its current course as it did so. One of the F-16 pilots called out a very familiar callout of 'Fox Two' as a sidewinder flew straight at one of the MiG-29s. Several other similar callouts came out, meanwhile, Robert switched to his ATC radio, straight to Osan, to inform them that they had been engaged by DPRK MiGs and were returning fire. No one on the ground was going to question US fighters returning fire after being engaged above what was still clearly Republic of Korea territory. His ground forces radio, the third and final one that was on board, immediately came to life with reports of enemy mortars, armor and infantry launching over the border. "SAM launch! 270 degrees, four statute miles. Mustang 2-1, can you take him?" Sure enough, Robert Wilkins was able to bring his Maverick pod straight onto the launch site. After the pod gave him a lock straight on target, he pushed a single button on his joystick, launching the AGM-65 Maverick straight into the SAM. With that, more chaff and flares illuminated the afternoon sky as tracer fire light up in the distance. The rather large surface-to-missile fell short of the American jets, and burst into flames, causing Robert to wish his wingman was still with him. A siren sounded at the Wonderbolts desert base, taking the attention of the human captain. Spitfire looked at him worriedly, and said something to him, but he missed it. She shouted this time. "We've got to get out of here! We didn't expect them to be this close to our base. There's a bunker, we use it for storage on the other side of the field." The American nodded at this and opened the door for the pony behind him, to his surprise, the hall outside the office contained not only the rainbow pegasus from earlier, but a winged purple unicorn as well, which he assumed to be the same one mentioned by Spitfire. Without much time to think, the pilot came up with a line to say to them before they could say something of their own. "Not the worst meeting I've ever been to," and with that the American unholstered the Italian 9mm, and cocked back the action, "and certainly not the best." As the American kicked the door outside the building open, he decided he needed a bigger gun. A thousand angry black, strange looking...things were buzzing about in the skies above the base. And on the ground, many more were fighting ponies, with an incredible success rate. Glancing around, he saw they were fortunately all across the field from him, unfortunately, next to the bunker that was their destination. He glanced over at his jet, and noticed something odd. A single sound suddenly shook the entire base. A sound the pilot recognized, and made him wish he had earplugs in. It only lasted one second, but many, many rounds were fired into the horde. The ponies behind him had their ears back and had their hooves over them. He lowered the Berretta he had in his hands, and began laughing as a second burst let loose, killing more of the unidentified creatures. He didn't know how, or why this had just happened, but he felt he somewhat understood the what. His plane, with literally no one, or nothing in it, had started up on its own. It had done the correct startup procedure, from what he could tell from here, and had begun firing. The plane began moving towards him a second later, and he simply stood there in shock. One of the strange creatures hissed at him as it zipped right at him, and he fired two rounds into the center of mass. The twelve million dollar jet stopped right next to him, the canopy opened, and the stairs dropped down. At this point the plane's pilot could only raise an eyebrow and stare at his own fighter. If that wasn't enough strange things for the pilot, a voice that sounded more than just a little hyped up spoke to him, coming from the aircraft. "You just going to stand there? Let's go kill some bastards!"