"She's starting to come together, Sir."

John glanced over his shoulder to see the Gunnery Sergeant approaching.

"Yeah. It took them a bit to get started, but they're rolling pretty good now."

He was standing in front of a set of large tents off to the side of the runway where the Blackhawk was parked and where the wreck of the A-10 was being worked on. They weren't much, just a large sheet of canvas draped over some poles, but they kept the weather off the precious flying machines housed inside. They even had some flaps that could be rolled down the sides to completely enclose the aircraft if needed, but they were currently rolled up to allow easy access. This also allowed John to see the progress that the mechanics had made.

Having never seen, let alone worked on, anything remotely similar to the aircraft before, the engineers took longer than expected to actually get started. The hardest parts for them to wrap their heads around were the complex electronics in the cockpit, and the engines. The first whole week was spent listening to John explain how the aircraft functioned and what each of the different systems did. The next two weeks were spent disassembling things and taking copious notes on everything. Just about every pony working on the aircraft had another pony following them around with a notepad, taking notes. Nothing was left unrecorded.

Despite the slow start, the repairs were being performed faster than what John thought was possible. What took hours to accomplish by normal means, took mere minutes with magic. As a result, after only three weeks, the main body, tail, and wings of the Warthog were almost fully repaired. The only things that weren't close to completion were the systems in the cockpit, the engines, and the main cannon.

"YEAHHH!!!"

John was brought out of his stupor by a group of engineers near the cockpit, cheering and clapping each other on the backs. Looking around, he couldn't figure out what all the fuss was about, until he saw that the navigation and collision lights spread across the aircraft were all on.

"Well would you look at that. The old girl's starting to wake up." The Gunnery Sergeant said. "It'll be nice to hear her purr again."

John was about to ask what he meant, but before he could, the sergeant turned and walked away.

"Excuse me, Sir?"

He turned toward one of the engineers walking towards him from the aircraft. "Yes?"

"We were able to work out the kinks with the electrical system, so, with you permission, we were hoping to move on to the computer systems tomorrow."

John thought for a moment. "The voltage isn't fluctuating anymore?"

"No, sir."

"Then I don't see any harm in it. Do you need me to be here?"

"We'd need you to test the systems for us so we know what's broken, but other than that, I don't think so."

"Ok, I'll be here." He would be lying if he said that he wasn't a little bit excited. This would be a chance to see just how much the engineers were able to fix. Of course, with the engines still being out of commission, he wouldn't be able to do a full systems test, just the electrical systems, but it was a start. "Have you guys heard anything back about the fuel situation?"

"Wait one, sir." The engineer turned toward the ponies working on one of the engines. "Hey Axel! Heard anything about the fuel?"

"Nope!" A pony with his head shoved inside one of the turbines yelled back.

"Hmm. Well, keep me posted." John said with a slight frown.

"Will do, sir." The engineer said, before trotting back to the A-10.

Early on in the repairs, a sample of the jet fuel was taken from the fuel lines inside the surviving engine and sent off to Canterlot for analysis. The ponies, not having technology advanced enough, were still using coal as a fuel source, so there weren't any suitable fuel sources to power the A-10's engines. The closest thing available was the crude oil that the Saddle Arabians had, but there were no methods to refine it yet. So, with no fuel source, it wouldn't matter if the aircraft was restored to pristine condition, it still wouldn't be able to get off the ground.

Rubbing his temples to try to relieve the small headache he got from thinking about his fuel problem, John decided to go see if he could scrounge up something to eat in the mess hall. The walk to "The Cave" wasn't far, and when he pushed open the door to the mess hall, he was met with the soft glow of artificial lighting and the quiet murmurs of a few groups of Marines and ponies sitting at the tables around the room.

Proceeding to the kitchen, he grabbed a tray, selected a few food items that looked edible, then went to sit at an unoccupied table. Just as he was sitting down, a shout was heard across the room.

"COMMANDER ON DECK!"

As one, the entire mess hall stood at attention.

Spitfire stood at the door to the mess hall with a rather disgruntled expression on her face. "At ease." She said, with no small amount of annoyance in her voice. As the occupants of the hall returned to what they were doing, the mare made her way over to where John was sitting and sat down with a sigh. "How's life, Lieutenant?"

"Could be worse, ma'am." The yellow mare gave him a small glare. That's when he noticed that she had some rather large bags under her eyes and looked slightly more unkempt than usual. "Everything ok? The Lance Corporal hasn't been getting 'bored' again, has he?"

After the second week at the airbase, a certain loud-mouthed Marine was having trouble occupying himself during his downtime, so he started pranking people. The pranks started out small and relatively harmless (a whoopie cushion here, a thumb-tack there, etc.), but after the latest incident (which involved a sleeping pegasus, a roll of duct tape, and the Dizz-O-Tron), John stepped in and put a stop to it.

"Oh, nah, he's fine." Spitfire let out a huff of annoyance. "We're getting a new class of cadets tomorrow."

John's eyebrows raised in surprise, as he picked at what looked like applesauce on his tray. "I don't know how that sort of thing is usually handled around here, but that seems like rather short notice to me."

The mare rolled her eyes. "Yeah, tell me about it. Apparently, the dunderheads in Canterlot mixed up some dates, so I didn't get the paperwork until last night."

"That sucks."

"Meh, it's not the first time it's happened. However, that's not the problem."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Really? What's the issue then?"

"... I just got word that Princess Luna will be coming too."

John didn't understand why the mare was troubled. Sure, having your boss come to visit could be stressful, but Princess Luna seemed pretty down-to-earth. However, she didn't take crap from anybody, and she was known to have a short fuse when it came to stupidity.... Which a particular Marine seemed to have an abundance of. He'd have to make sure tha-

"And she's not leaving until that flying machine of yours get's off the ground."

Author's Note

This chapter's title, brought to you by: Shadowhunter241's atrocious writing habits!

Yes, I'm still alive.
No, I haven't stopped writing.
Yes, I'll eventually finish this (and my other) story.
No, I don't know when that will be.
Hopefully, the next update won't take until the end of time itself......Maybe.

This chapter's a little smaller than I wanted, but I'd rather put out small chapters quickly*, than long chapters that take forever** for me to write.

* - As quick as molasses in the middle of Antarctica
** - Quite literally.
*** -