Friendly AC-130 Inbound

Chapter 3: Ghostriders on the ground?

        Chaos surveyed the land running parallel to the train tracks below. It wasn’t ideal, at least not for a large AC-130 to land on. Currently as far as he could figure, it was about four thousand feet of straight away. Possibly a little less, but it wasn’t so much the length that currently concerned him. Their two potential approaches were what bothered him, he could come in towards the direction of that mountain city. However at the end of that potential run-in the tracks jerked violently in front of their path as they began their ascent into the mountains. If he followed that route, he ran the risk of going nose end into the track’s berm.

        On the opposite approach it was even worse, he would have to hug the mountain before bringing it in a tight right hand turn. He would lose precious runway as he wouldn’t be able to descend until they could level out. To make matters worse, the treeline at the end of that side of the tracks made the gravel and dirt berm look friendly. But at least flying over the tree lines on the opposite approach he could bring it in low and level towards the mountain. His decision was rather simple in the end.

        “Crew, Decent Checks.” The pilot said.

        “Copy Pilot, I just finished bandaging the Nav, he’s passed out but he’s secure.” Struggle responded.

        The Pilot banked the aircraft out of their orbit, setting themselves on a trajectory over the treeline.

        “Keep me informed, if you can, start on the crash landing checks.” He responded before telling the Eng to continue the checklist.

        “Crew Briefing.” Story pimped the pilot.

        “Alright crew here’s the plan, we’ve got about four thousand feet of runway I’ll bring her over that treeline. We’ll go one hundred percent flaps-

        Unaware of the crew’s plan, Princess Celestia watched intently as the large grey beast circled high above. She had decided to err on the side of caution by simply observing the metal beast from her balcony. It had circled above Ponyville for quite some time. However when it turned South, still trailing smoke, she had hoped that perhaps it might have left altogether. But much to her chagrin it turned back around and began losing altitude, she could tell whatever it was it would soon be earth bound. Drawing from her years of experience, Celestia could tell this incident would not blow over if she ignored it. Glancing behind her she picked out the closest guard to herself.

        “Bring Lieutenant Swift Stroke to me. Inform him to quickly assemble an escort of pegasi.” She said.

        Celestia clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she wondered how badly this would interrupt her day’s plans.

        “Pilot, Load. Are we going to dump any ammo or fuel?”

        “Negative Load, I would rather hang onto any supplies we can. We’ll land heavy if we have to.”

        “Copy.” Struggle was running ragged across the gundeck, tying down loose equipment, checking hydraulic lines and double checking his work.

        “Load, are the guns extended and stowed?” The Eng asked.

        “No I’m working on that Eng.” He grunted in frustration before making his way to the loader weapon control panel. He furiously began flipping switches, but none of the guns moved. He was baffled for a few moments before he silently cursed under his breath.

Fuck that's right, we lost the Booster Hydraulics.

“Hold on, I need to manually extend and stow the guns, the booster was damaged so it will take me a few more minutes.”

        “Well make it quick, the Eng is starting to get fluctuating RPM’s on three.” Said Chaos.

        “Well if you can magic four more gunners out of your ass then by all means, otherwise shut the fuck up I’m doing what I can as fast as I can.”

        Struggle grabbed the manual drive assembly, and rotated its handles with such abandon that his rotator cuff began to scream in agony. The guns slowly elevated. With the 105 millimeter, and 40 millimeter stowed he went around the aft of the largest gun, and began pumping the handle to extend it.

        “Load, we are on our final approach you have five minutes.” Chaos said.

No fucking pressure or anything. Struggle grunted to himself, only a few more inches and the gun would be fully extended.

        Meanwhile Celestia’s mind raced with the possibilities the large craft could have in store for her. She had gathered her contingent and had left Canterlot a few minutes ago, they had kept their distance but it was clear now to her that it was a flying machine. Unlike any of the ones in Canterlot, but a flying machine nonetheless.

        Its smoke trail grew as it descended on Ponyville, no sooner had it left the forest then had it touched down on the ground, bouncing violently near the train tracks. Kicking up dirt, and spitting smoke. She watched the seemingly helpless airship futilely try to slow down. By the time it had reached the halfway point of Ponyville, it became clear to her that it may not be capable of slowing itself down in time before it reached the base of the mountain.

        “Guard! On me! Our guest may need some assistance.”

        Struggle had barely made it to his seat by the time the aircraft hit the dirt. The landing was hard, he took no pride in the fact that three bounces was a new personal record on landing. But he couldn’t help but breath a small sigh of relief that they were at least on the ground now. He diverted his attention from the window to make sure the Nav was still secure. Sure enough he was still there, even if his head comically rolled about.

        As he switched his attention back to the window, he saw the town for the first time at eye level pass him by. Thatch roofs, and colorful buildings blurred by him. The violent shakes and harsh jerks made it hard to see clearly outside. The few animated forms he saw watched him pass with rapt attention, and for the first time he saw its citizens from something other than a bird’s eye view. In a way he wished he hadn’t, they were quadrupedal in nature. Their colorful forms, and wide eyes spoke of intelligence.

        Struggle could feel the g-forces as the engines reversed their thrust, trying to slow their speed. He slowly lurched forward under the shifting momentum, stopped only by his inertial reel on his shoulder straps. The town had fled from his vision, replaced by a landscape of rolling hills and sprawling fields.

        “Crew, brace for impact.” The Pilot said. Wait what!?!

        Chaos had pulled fully back on the throttles, his legs were both applied to the brakes, hoping that anything would find the traction needed to stop their forward movement. But as the mountain grew larger, he realized all was lost. They would hit the berm, the cockpit would be crushed and his life would end along with it. Closing his eyes he prayed for it to end swiftly.

        But as the cabin rocked, and he thought the end was nigh. He realized that he hadn’t died, he could still feel the breath ragged as it was escape him. Cautiously he opened his eyes, to find that the berm was mere inches from having impacted the nose of the aircraft, and a golden shimmer seemed to dance along the windshield.

        A bead of sweat dropped down Celestia’s brow. Stopping the extremely heavy machine wasn’t as difficult as moving the Sun, but after the day’s events it took an extraordinary effort to stop. She let out a ragged sigh in relief, saving the creature had left her fatigued. However any effort was worth answering her questions, if it meant keeping her subjects safe.

        “After Landing checks.” The Pilot called.

        “Everyone alright up there?” The Load asked.

        “Yes Load, Besides the Co pissing himself.”

        “Skittish Tombs, very skittish.”

        “Knock it off Load, we’re in a checklist.”

        “Co-pee. Pilot.”

        Struggle disengaged his seat belt, quickly setting to his task of setting his gear back into his helmet bag that he had brought up to the window. Afterwards he went back to the gundeck, checking to see if any of the equipment had shifted. He was pleasantly surprised to see that everything had remained put.

        He waited for the engines to down-speed as he leaned against the small window in the right paratroop door, watching the flames from the number three engine be smothered in fire extinguisher fluid. It was a bit abnormal as the engine choked alongside its brother, the number four engine. After he made his way to the ramp and door control panel, this time armed with the knowledge of the booster system being out, he set on the task of pumping both systems, the ramp lowered while cargo door opened. When the world outside was revealed, he was slightly startled to see that a group of locals had decided on hanging back about a hundred meters from the aircraft.

Well this isn’t close encounters of the third kind, the ramp maybe down but I still have other jobs to do. The take me to your leader part can wait.

“Static right.” The Co-pilot called.

        “Load, clear to insert wheel chocks.” Chaos said.

        “In progress. Load is checking off.” Struggle waited for the pilot to copy before disconnecting his comm cord, and jumping out the aircraft with the first set of chocks. After landing heavily, he threw the chocks down on the grass, before kicking one behind the back wheel, and one in front of it. Before making his way to the ramp to grab the second set to repeat on the opposite side.

“Loads up, chocks in place.”

“Copy Load, Engine shutdown checks complete. Alright crew clean up your stations, Load wake the Nav if you can and we’ll gather at the end of the ramp. Cleared off crew.”

With that Struggle took his headset off and rested it on his shoulders, as he began to roll up his comm-cord on the way back to the crew rest compartment.

Celestia was clearly confused, it was obvious that the species that she had seen in the craft was none she knew of. Why hadn’t she heard about a new species being discovered, or for that matter, stories of them if they built complicated looking machines. The gears in her head were turning but she was clearly missing something. She watched as one of creatures in her sight turned in their direction, but simply ignored them as it went about performing other tasks, clearly disinterested by her and her guards presence. She didn’t know whether to be insulted or impressed.

She watched curiously as it picked up a pair of yellow painted wooden blocks connected by a rope. Before it jumped down out of the craft, and placed them underneath what appeared to be the crafts wheels. Although she had never seen the substance they were made of.

It shortly disappeared back into the craft after completing the task.

It wasn’t long however before other occupants from inside the craft began to emerge from the darkness within. The new additions however seemed far more interested in her, and her guards presence. Perhaps the first one was some type of servant class, or of a diminished intelligence. However he to shortly returned, cradling what appeared to be a wounded one of their number.

Oh dear, I wonder what happened.

“Welcome back to the land of the living Papa.” Struggle said.

“Ugh, ya I’m back. I still feel like shit. I take it we’ve landed.”

“Yeah we’re there sunshine...we’re there.”

        “Alright, give me a sec.” The Nav unbuckled his seat, and slowly sat up before hunching over.

        “Ugh, why’s this shit always happening to me. Hate to ask, but do you mind giving me a hand standing up?” Struggle extended his hand to the Nav before rocking his weight to bring the Nav to his feet. He stumbled a bit, before Struggle hooked the Nav’s arm over his shoulder.

        “Woah there.” He chuckled before continuing. “You might need more than a hand, just lean on me, Chaos want’s us to meet up in the back.”

        “Well, lead the way.”

        Struggle carefully helped the Nav to sit down on the ramp, before jumping off of it himself to join the four other crew members of the plane off the edge. Rummaging through his left cargo pocket he fished out his pack of cigarettes before pulling one out.

        “You know you're not supposed to smoke on U.S Air Force aircraft Struggle.” Said the Pilot. Struggle arched a brow before slowly looking behind him to the craft in question.

        “Well then it’s a good thing I’m not smoking on the aircraft, just next to it.” Before he brought up his lighter to the cigarette.

        “Do you really think that’s smart, we’ve got alien guests. What if they take offense to its smell or something.”

        “Well then Pilot, I would imagine they wouldn’t have sat themselves downwind of our aircrafts exhaust if they were so sensitive. Besides I think we have bigger fish to fry, like not ignoring the insanity of the fact that there’s a group of aliens in golden armor eyeballing us from a couple hundred feet away.” The Lieutenant decided now would be an opportune time to butt in.

        “What do we do Major?”

        “We go over our innocent circumstances statement that’s what.” The pilot responded. Eliciting a chuckle from Struggle.

        “Really? I doubt our survival school training covers this. Besides if I were them I don’t think I would be satisfied with.” Struggle comically dropped his voice an octave before continuing. “We have found ourselves in your country through no fault of our own, in support of Operation blah blah blah...That’s seriously not going to cut it. Also if they can speak our language, you can shave my ass and call me Shirley.

“Just going to ignore that last part, besides how would you know Struggle you been through this before? That’s what our regulations tell us to say, so that’s what we’ll say.” To this Struggle groaned.

        “Look, this isn’t anything we’ve covered, this is a unique situation and we have to treat it as such. Also do we ever strictly follow the regs in combat? No, no we don’t. We adapt them to an ever evolving situation, I don’t see how this is any different. Well you know, besides the potentially alien planet thing...and that this isn’t combat. But you know, semantics and stuff.” He said before taking another puff, careful to blow it in the opposite direction of his comrades.

        “I’d have to agree with Struggle Pilot, there’s nothing in the regs on this.” Story responded.

        “Alright, maybe we can be a little more forthcoming. But I would still be more comfortable with allowing them to come to us. Peacetime scenarios clearly dictate that we don’t try to establish contact, but we don’t try to evade it either. So we’ll wait for our friends over there, and then we’ll just roll with the punches. But take this seriously, act professionally, and don’t do anything obscene.” Struggle merely smiled before responding.

        “Co-pee.” Followed by a chorus of groans from the crew. Besides the Nav, who was still kind of hunched over. Who either didn’t understand, or simply didn’t care to give a response.

        Celestia’s ears were pointed forward, while she wasn’t proud that she had thrown a sound enhancing spell on herself to eavesdrop on her new guests. She had been around long enough to know to take any advantage she could find in potential diplomatic talks. Usually that was just sponging information off of maids for visiting dignitaries, but she wasn’t averse to doing the hoofwork herself. When the garbled non-sense of the creatures came back, she huffed before weaving two spells together. The first of which hid her magical signature from sight, the other was Clover the Clever’s universal translation spell.

Clover’s spell itself was ingenious, translating the spell’s target language into the casters. The principle of the spell worked off of translating the specific idea that was meant to be conveyed into something tangible for the caster, while also doing the same for the target. Certain words that had no analogue between the species would simply be translated phonetically into an approximate. All words except swear words in any case. Turns out Clover the Clever saw the potential for abuse of the spell, more specifically a pony casting the spell on themselves just to cuss out another pony in their language. When the mess of sound solidified into something she could understand, she listened attentively.

As she listened she learned a wealth of information, most importantly she had pinpointed this group's de-facto leader. One going by the name Major Pilot. Normally she would have thought Major to be a rank, but none of the others had been referred to by rank so far. Even if it was clear to her by now, that this seemed to be a professional organization if not a military. The most important thing she had learned though, was that this gathering of a new species seemed like they wanted to avoid hostilities.

        That earned them respect in her book, so much so that she couldn’t help the ear splitting grin on her face at the prospect of a new peaceful sapient species emerging. Think of all they could learn from each other.

        That grin soon dropped as she went over the mention of two things, the first being the word combat. The second that one of them mentioned that this might not be their planet.

        “Come Gentlecolts, I think it’s high time we introduce ourselves to our new guests.” Celestia ordered. Lieutenant Swift Stroke who had been silent for much of their observation decided to throw in his two bits.

        “After you, your highness.”