An A-10C Warthog In Equestria

by An A10 Warthog

First published

After an A-10C is sabotaged by North Koreans, the device designed to destroy to the aircraft inexplicably sends it to Equestria.

This morning, an A-10C Thunderbolt II stationed at Osan Air Base in South Korea was vandalized. The pilot of the aircraft, one Captain Lawrence J. Robinson, has been declared M.I.A. The aircraft itself has not been found and a search and recovery effort is currently underway.


Lawrence Robinson, a Hog pilot in the United States Air Force, was on a standard training exercise and it seemed to be going well. Then he was in a land of colorful ponies. He must have missed looking in that one spot under the fuselage during the preflight.

Prolouge: Pesky North Koreans

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It was two o'clock in the morning, on a normal Thursday at Osan Air Base, or at least it seemed that way. For the North Korean sleeper agent living in South Korea, it was going to be the day he proved to the Great Leader that he was, in fact, a capable agent. The skinny man crawled through the bushes towards his prize, an American attack plane parked on the ramp.

The agent looked down at the payload he carried in his arms, a small box with a blue glow emanating along its sides. He did not know what it would do, but the scientist who told him how to build it had assured him it would cause all kinds of destruction to the Imperialist jet it was attached to. The Korean wasn't entirely sure that it would be a capable device- but the Great Leader had trusted him to do this, and he knew that the Great Leader would only use capable equipment against the Americans.

As such, the man made his way to the belly of the aircraft, and upon reaching there, he opened a panel behind the wings of the aircraft using a length of cable. Inside was a group of electrical cables, which he ignored as he jammed the device into the minimal space around the cables, and turned on the twelve hour timer. He immediately closed the panel, ensuring it was locked and secure, before crawling back to the bushes to make his way back to his non suspicious looking vehicle.


Lawrence Robinson was convinced his Warthog was in working order for its flight as he ensured that the lights on board were in working order. He had checked the plane over inside and out, as he had done before every other flight on every plane he had ever flown, and today had no reason to be different. Today was simply another exercise, more time for the 25th Fighter Squadron to get some practice up in the air.

Lawrence gave a thumbs up to the crewmen standing around as he climbed into the cockpit of the A-10. He followed the other A-10, his buddy Robert's plane Mustang 2-1, to the runway after getting his clearance to taxi. As his friend requested clearance and taxied onto the runway, he moved to hold short of the runway and requested his clearance.

"Osan Tower, Mustang 2-2 is holding short of runway niner requesting straight-out departure."

"Mustang 2-2, this is Osan tower, You are cleared for taxi onto the active and straight out departure."

"Osan Tower, Mustang 2-2, cleared for straight out departure on runway niner."

With that, the pilot increased thrust smoothly as he taxied onto the runway's center line. It didn't take long for him to pull off the ground and raise the landing gear. Looking at his clock, he saw his time of departure was 13:42, meaning he had plenty of time to practice maneuvers before he was to return to base at 16:00. "Mustang 1-1, Mustang 2-2 is airborne and enroute to waypoint Alpha."


As the pair of Thunderbolt II strike aircraft flew along the DMZ, practicing formation flying, the pilot of one of them noticed some thing after performing a hard turn. "The electrical power is looking a little low..." Lawrence noted to himself in the cockpit, "Hey Mustang 2-1," Lawrence called out on his radio.

"Copy that, Mustang 2-2, go ahead." Robert in the lead A-10 replied quickly.

"I seem to be having trouble with my-" His voice cut off, followed by a loud Boom coming from about a mile behind Robert's plane.

The pilot of Mustang 2-1 looked around frantically behind him as he called out to his friend "Mustang 2-2, come in!" He repeated messages of that nature over his radio before turning around for another look. With no signs of his friends plane, he pressed a button changing his radio transmission frequency to that of Osan tower.

"Osan Tower," he called in, "We've lost Mustang 2-2, I repeat, Mustang 2-2 is down."


"-Electrical power. How do you advise 2-1?"

As he was talking, Lawrence did notice a blue glow around his aircraft, and a change in the landscape below the airplane. He instantly checked his GPS, which showed no signal. "Oh Fuck." The pilot groaned as he called in on his radio to the frequency of Osan Tower. "Osan Tower, this is Mustang 2-2, do you read?"

In a minute, he received no response. This isn't right.

"This is Mustang 2-2 to all aircraft, do you read?"

Again, no response, so he changed channels to that of Incheon International Airport in Seoul.

"Incheon tower, this is Mustang 2-2, is type A-10 Thunderbolt II of the United States Air Force, do you copy my transmission?"

With this being his final attempt and receiving no transmission, he gave up and began looking for a visual below him. He saw a large white and gold castle on a side of a mountain off in the distance, and immediately below him was a village, one that to him looked very similar to that of a medieval European village. He continued approaching the castle, wanting a closer look at that than at the small town.

As he flew on, a rainbow trailed projectile flew up towards his plane from the village that was now behind him, his instincts kicking in, he punched flares and initiated an evasive maneuver. Seconds later, the rainbow trailed entity caught up with the canopy of his plane and began flying off to his right. It was a horse. A flying horse, a pegasus if Lawrence remembered correctly. A rainbow colored one at that. The horse looked as though it had trouble keeping up with him.

As though the horse noticed him, it waved at him. Lawrence leaned back in his seat in more confusion, but decided it wouldn't be polite not to wave back. The next thing on the pilot's mind was finding a place to land. And preferably figure out what was going on.

He continued looking at the horse, and the more he did so, the more he realized that its snout had a far different shape than that of what you would expect from a horse. Deciding he had more important things to do than investigate a horse, Lawrence increased thrust and sped off towards the massive castle that had caught his attention earlier.

A frightening thought came to the Captain that he was in some fantasy world, like Lord of the Rings or something. He almost wished he had more knowledge of the fantasy genre now. What the Captain didn't need to know much about the fantasy worlds to know, however, was that there wasn't going to be a smooth runway anywhere for him to land on. Which meant he'd have to find something very flat.

The pegasus caught up with him again, and looked as though it wanted to challenge him, to this the pilot paid no mind; for he needed to prioritize a spot for landing, and not run out of fuel before doing so. He looked at his fuel gauge, he made more desperate attempts to contact anyone, but they were in vain. He was now less than 10 miles from the castle, and the rainbow pegasus was still outside his window.

The pilot could see fields below him, but he wanted to use those as a last resort, but if it came to it, he knew he could land in one with minor damage. He just had to make sure it wasn't a rice paddy.

As the pilot took his thoughts away from his landing options to investigate the castle, he realized it wasn't just a castle, it was a whole city. And the damned thing was massive. He had heard of European castles being built on the side of mountains for defense, but this thing looked like it was far larger to any of those castles. As he looked around the city from above, he noticed a railroad track leading into the city.

Lawrence was overjoyed at this. Maybe this isn't a fantasy world after all! Maybe they have airstrips! Maybe they have radios! He tried again to find any sign of radio activity near the city by searching his radio. More nothing.. He truly wasn't surprised- even if this society had radios, the odds they would use the same frequencies for communication in such a large spectrum is highly unlikely.

The horse on his side flew down to the city below him. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that the rainbow pegasus was intelligent. It was a frightening thought that a flying horse could be the dominant lifeform on this planet. I just hope they have a need for two thousand foot-long runways... It seemed unlikely, but it was a hope that he had. Then, several other shapes with gray contrails flew up towards him, followed by another rainbow contrail.

I guess I must have violated their airspace, Robinson dumped flares and banked hard to the left, away from the city. Soon after, the objects flew up to him again, the same rainbow pegasus leading other pegasi to his plane. The others were all similar colors, and their colors were almost as glossy as a freshly waxed car. The Hog Pilot deadpanned. Should have guessed it was just more of these horse things.

One of them, with a similarly shaped nose to that of the rainbow one, made a gesture indicating it wanted him to follow. Lawrence responded with a nod and a thumbs up. The strange creatures lead him back towards where he started, he thought they were taking him to the village again, but once they got close, they turned right heading south east towards a desert and canyon are. They lead him to a marked clear area near what looked like a small base, and one gestured with its forelimbs like a crewman vectoring a plane to the ramp.

He nodded as acknowledgement and lowered his flaps and landing gear and turned around for an approach. As he landed he felt a couple of bumps, but he had landed on worse. One of the pegasi lead him to a ramp where he turned off the engines. He proceeded to shut down his plane, and ensure it is in working order from the cockpit. He lowered the ladder using a button in the cockpit and climbed over the edge and onto the ladder.

A pegasus wearing what looked like a military dress shirt was waiting for him. He climbed down, and the horse-thing spoke in an authoritative tone. "Identify yourself."

This would have surprised some men and made them freeze up, but if he did then he wouldn't be a very good attack pilot. As such, he responded in a practiced, neutral tone. "Captain Lawrence J. Robinson, United States Air Force."

The small horse- which he assumed to be female at this point- brought its hoof to its face. "And what exactly are you Captain?" She asked.

Representing humanity to an alien species? Check that one off the bucket list. He stood straight up with a proud smile on his face, "I'm a human, and I come in peace," He managed to keep a straight face at that cheesy line.

The thing in front of him smiled at this and spoke. "Welcome to Equestria, Lawrence. My name is Spitfire, Captain of the Wonderbolts."

She motioned him to follow towards the building.

"Wait, you never told me what you guys are?"

"Ponies."

Oh, there's a surprise.

Chapter 1: Of Diplomats and Thirty Millimeter Cannons

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"Come, take a seat in my office," The pegasus told the pilot.

To this, the American officer shook his head. "I can't let this plane out of my sight. It's the regulations I have to follow."

The other ponies were giving each other nervous glances, and the American simply raised his eyebrows. Spitfire appeared to quickly regain her composure and make another attempt, "Surely you trust us enough to not cause harm to your aircraft, Mr. Robinson."

Lawerence simply chuckled, "Sure," He began sarcastically, "But I can't be too sure of your security."

"Sir, I can assure you that our security is top-notch," The human's sarcasm was apparently lost on the yellow pegasus.

"You fail to understand," All humor in his tone had vanished, "I am not just going to leave my aircraft out here, where any one of you ponies could have your way with with my aircraft," The American didn't want to inadvertently give them any ideas.

The tension in the air grew thicker as the pilot stood firm in his ideology, and the ponies trying to have a well-meant meeting with the man. Of course, Lawerence had little reason to believe what the ponies told him, other than to hopefully seek a quicker end to the escalating mayhem that the airman's insistence to stick to protocol.

The pony officer sighed, "Look, to some extent, you have to trust us if we want negotiations to work out to any extent. I can leave the blinds on the window open so you can see your vehicle."

After some more coaxing, the American finally agreed to meet in her office, the blinds open of course, (Robinson wasn't sure why she would want the blinds closed anyway, but didn't ask) where the yellow pony sat down behind the desk, in a manner that the pilot found odd, considering the fact that she walks on four legs. Of course, Lawrence pretended to pay no note to it, but in reality he was observing everything. And he was on the verge of freaking out, which, he hoped, was also true with the ponies he was dealing with. He barely had time to think about what was going on before she started asking questions.

"What is the thing you came here in?"

He immediately smiled. "The finest plane in the service of any nation on the planet Earth."

She raised an eyebrow.

"The Fairchild-Republic A-10C Thunderbolt II attack aircraft," he continued, "It flies at half the speed of sound, and is more than capable of raining down death and destruction to entire cities.

She had a neutral expression, though he thought she was impressed.

"Why did you come here?"

He chuckled, "Hell if I know," he shrugged, "I didn't choose to visit, believe me, I'd much rather be playing Xbox back with my friends."

"Do you have any intention of bringing harm to the residents of Equestria?" Spitfire continued through her list of security questions.

"Trust me," the pilot continued, his thumb pointed towards the A-10 parked on the tarmac outside, "If I'd wanted to kill you, you'd never have known it."

She brought her hooves together and leaned forward, "Alright. We probably owe you an explanation. We are at the REAF Reserve Forces Training and Testing Center about forty miles south of the Equestrian plains, which means we are about eighty miles from Canterlot," She gave him a look, "Of course, that's not everything, but let's not get into a history lesson right now, eh?"

"You should know by now I have no clue where Canterlot is, hell, I have no clue where Equestria is. Yet you're telling me Canterlot is 80 miles away, which tells me nothing! I need some facts here!" He began, before realizing he just lost it, after his crazy day with these ponies.

To his surprise, Spitfire nodded, "Right. I believe you flew past Canterlot, it was the city and palace situated on the side of a mountain," The American immediately realized how horrendously unprepared they are if he was able to buzz their capital city in a heavily armed attack plane, with no resistance from them whatsoever.

"So, we are probably going to need to send you to meet with a diplomat in Canterlot, but seeing how you objected so heavily to even leaving the tarmac, it would probably be better for your disposition to dispatch the diplomat to us, so we can get you set up in a spare room, and you will have your meeting when he arrives," she closed a binder on her desk, "That should be about an hour from now. We'll tell you when he gets here."


When Lawrence thought of a chariot, he thought of gladiators charging each other in a coliseum with lions chasing them, and the like. Needless to say, he wasn't expecting this. What the diplomat came in was a chariot that was pulled by two white pegasi, both wearing what looked like armor from the Roman era. The damn thing didn't look aerodynamic, and there wasn't even much of a mechanism to fasten the occupant in near the back, with only a wooden panel and bench to secure them, leaving the American visitor wondering how dumb these ponies were, to have a non-winged pony transported in this way.

After the unicorn stepped out of the chariot, carrying a small briefcase like the ones lawyers typically carry, he trotted over to Robinson, who extended his hand, which the diplomat took. "Let's get started, shall we?" The pony began.


Four hours later, Robinson stepped out of the makeshift meeting-room with a sigh of relief. It seemed like the unicorn would never stop asking him questions, but it was finally over. Hopefully, they would listen to his statements, and help him find a way home. The diplomat did seem interested in building relations with the United States, but Lawrence wasn't too sure that the feeling would be mutual.

After exiting the building, the American pulled out his iPhone, and decided he should see if he got service here. After powering the device on, he saw he had no connection. He shrugged. He wasn't expecting a connection, but it would have been nice, so he put the Apple product back into his pocket, turning it off, in the event he needed it again later. Walking over to his aircraft, he decided that now would be a good time to check on his jet, so he walked over to the plane and began checking on several surfaces of the aircraft, noticing an unsecured hatch. Opening the hatch, he noticed what was left of a small device next to the wires.

Standing up, his mouth agape, Lawrence finally had an idea for how he wound up here, but still lacked a proper solution. Walking back towards his lodging for the night, he encountered the rainbow-maned pegasus that he had first encountered on the way in, she looked over at him and said something, but he didn't hear her. She repeated it again, this time all up in his face.

"I said, 'what makes you think you can just show up here and upstage ME!'?" The pony he didn't have a name for gave him her best attempt at an intimidating glare, but the pilot was unfazed.

"Look," he began, completely bemused, "I don't know who you even are, yet you assume that my first priority is going to be to upstage you? You must be a really arrogant one, because you're the only pony here who's even attempted something that could be seen as aggressive here today!" Calming down a little bit, the American continued on, "Let me guess, you were trying to impress these Wonderbolt ponies?"

She nodded hesitantly, "They're the most elite flyers in all of Equestria."

"I see," Lawrence said thoughtfully, "Look, I honestly don't know how it works here, but I'd wager you're trying to join their ranks. They want a moral code, and if I'm not mistaken, they want to be an influence on their people. While they would want someone with guts, like you've shown, but it more over shows bad judgement, which is a quality I'd try to get rid of if I were you,"

The rainbow-maned pony nodded as Robinson walked away, but she stopped him to introduce herself, "My name's Rainbow Dash, and yours is?" She extended a hoof.

"Lawrence Robinson," he replied immediately meeting her hoof with his hand.

Chapter 2: Non-Human Combatants

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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!"

Chapter 3: International Incidents

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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.