Unity. Security. Prosperity. -C.o.N. motto

"Blockade."

...

"Blockade."

...

"Hey BLOCKHEAD."

"Fucking What?!" Came the muffled response from underneath the front wheels. After a few seconds of shuffling, a grease covered hippogriff shimmied out into the baking sun, clutching a coolant filter. A shadow loomed over him, revealing canine form of his squad-mate.

"How much do you know about cars?"

"Kiloton, I swear to the Board-"

"I'm not much of a vehicular prodigy myself, but I do believe-"

"YES. THE DOORS. ARE MISSING." Blockade gave a grunt as he began to get up, wiping off some of the bigger stains with a used rag, and placed the coolant filter underneath his driver's seat. "I checked again after drills this morning and the motor pool told me -again- that they were on order and to expect them 'in due time'." Air-quoted Blockade as he made his way around to the back of the vehicle where his canteen was resting. After taking a few swigs, he was joined by Kilo clambering up top to scan the surrounding chaos of Fort Long Home.

The fort itself was for the longest time just a few support buildings and an airstrip surrounded by a vast desert. The only real structure of note was an old observation tower, bristling with antenna and radio dishes. An observatory was located at the very top with the lenses almost constantly pointed in the direction of the Zone. Recently however, the fort had ballooned out with barracks, warehouses, and everything else needed to support the CNERZ-EQZ mission. All the activity had kicked up plenty of dust that now covered everything in sight. On the southern end rested the colossal form of the C.o.N's mobile command center Earthbreaker.

"They do know the show's starting soon right?"

"'Course they do. Coalition Logistics: Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back to your next of kin." Grumbled Blockade as he tried to coax out a few more drops of water.

"Kin? Thought you gunned them all down years ago and traded the firing squad for this gig." Chided Kiloton as he handed over his own canteen.

"You're thinking of that naga gunner in Tango, dude. Besides, I think...oh hey, dude, Hammer's back." Kiloton could make out the tell-tale bright orange plumage of the corporal weaving its way through the hustle back to the vehicle. He was dragging along a large duffel bag that did not belong to him. A ways behind him was the far more worrying figure of the regiment's Marshall. Where Hammer had to pick and choose his way back, the crowd easily gave the Marshall a wide berth with individuals doing their best to put as much distance between them and him as possible. The Marshall for his part kept staring straight ahead, appearing to ignore the rabble surrounding him.

"Shit dude the Marshall's with him!" Exclaimed Kiloton as bounded off the roof and made a beeline for his equipment.

"Piss!" Blockade tossed Kiloton's canteen back to him while making for the rear troop compartment.
"Are the mags all hidden?" Came Kilo's desperate call. Blockade was just about to confirm when he noticed a few rolled up pages of belonging to their personal collection of *ahem*... reading material. He quickly went about shoving them into the false compartment under one of the seats before making his way back out and stood at attention, shortly joined by Kilo.

The arrival of the Marshall and Hammer was preceded by the crowd disappearing right in front of them, leaving nothing between them and the massive form of the Minotaur Marshall. He stopped in front of them and began boring holes into the duo. They held up well enough, but it was when the Marshall began opening his mouth that Kiloton and Blockade started shaking.

"WHAT THE ABSOLUTE SHIT AM I LOOKING AT HERE CORPORAL CHICKENHEAD?! THESE FUCKING CHIGFAGS ARE TOO BUSY TONGUE-FUCKING THEIR VEHICLE TO GIVE AN ANT'S DICK ABOUT BABYSITTING!"

Kilo was already stumbling back from the shock-waves, while Blockade had managed to brace himself in time and was only dealing with a very slight case of horrifying tinnitus. Hammer meanwhile took it all in stride as he made his reply.

"Sir, I have full confidence in Private Kiloton and Private Blockade to take care of the new cargo. She'll make it through the tour." This made Kilo give his partner a glance. She?

"IS THAT SO CORPORAL? THESE SHITSCUMS COULDN'T HANDLE PROTECTING A USED BAR OF SOAP, LET ALONE A MEMBER OF THE PRESS! IF I HEAR THAT SHE HAS NOT SPENT HER ENTIRE TIME ORGASMING OVER THE AMOUNT OF TREATMENT YOUR SQUAD WILL BE PROVIDING HER, I WILL PERSONALLY SKULLFUCK EACH AND EVERYONE OF THE SQUAD'S EYSOCKETS USING PRIVATE BLOCKHEAD'S INTESTINES AS A FUCKING CONDOM!"

With his eloquent speech concluded, the Marshall stormed off to chew out whatever sorry bunch caught his ire. This left the trio awkwardly standing around before Hammer decided to break the silence.

"At ease gentlecolts, we've got some packing to do."

"So Hammer, when do we meet Ms. Reporter?" Kiloton questioned while trying to swat a buzzing insect and barely caught Hammer's reply.

"You already did Blockade. She came with me and the Marshall." This made Kiloton and Blockade slightly confused and they both started to scan the area, searching for the mystery mare. Now the insect started bothering Blockade as well. His attempts at swatting the bug were just as futile as Kilo's and soon both of them were chasing their own tails trying to swat the nuisance. Hammer looked on, silently wondering if their combined IQ's broke double digits.

"Miss Muckraker, would you please introduce yourself?"

*click* "HELLO MR. KILO AND MR. BLOCKADE!" The new assault on their eardrums caused Kiloton to drop to his knees with both of his paws shoved into his ears and was making liberal use of the entire Oxenford Expletive Dictionary.

"GODFUCKINGDAMNITBOARDCUNTIN'SANDSERPENTCHIGGERCO-"

Blockade for his part had a faraway look in his eyes and wobbled about in circles, *cheeping* all the way.

"Miss Muckraker!" Squawked Hammer as he nursed his ears.

"SORRY SORRY!--SORry! Had the volume up too high!" The voice appeared to be coming from the insect still buzzing about.

*cheep*

Kiloton finally calmed down enough to where he could focus on the source of the offending noise. While initially dismissed as some sort of large turquoise dragonfly, closer inspection revealed the wispy form of a breezie in a press uniform straight out of the the old black and whites. The only difference was an omnicorder strapped onto her ears. The breezie's rapid fire apologies continued until Hammer cleared his throat.

"Miss Muckraker, please try to keep your volume down when talking with us. We really need our eardrums un-shattered for this mission."

*cheep!*

"U-Uh...Yes sir mister Hammer sir!" Muckraker gave a hesitant giggle and tried to position herself between Kiloton and Blockade to get a proper look at her new "babysitters".

Kiloton was a Down-unda Shephard with charcoal spots on a deep grey coat. His attire was a simple wife beater tucked into deep green trousers tucked into dirty white boots. Blockade had wobbled behind Kiloton but Muckraker could still identify the green and yellow kakapo front while his rear was bright brown with a shaved tail, though it was challenging considering the amount of grease that caked his body. His attire was nearly identical to Blockade, barring that his trousers and boots both being a deep grey.

Forgetting herself, Muckraker went about apologizing more while fiddling with the omnicorder.

"S-So...Yes! Really sorry about the noise. That was just a-erhm *cough* malfunction? Yes! Malfunction! The equipment does that sometimes, and not becauseIforgotanddidn'tcheckbeforhandifthevolume-"

*cheep*!

"Sorry!...Again! So, uh, I'm Muckraker- a reporter- and I've been assigned to...Corporal Hammer's squad?" She made a questioning glance at Hammer, who nodded.

"So who are you with? GNN? COD? The Evening News?" Questioned Kiloton.

*cheep*? Inquired Blockade.

"Erm...no, I'm with the Granite's End Gazette?" There was a slight blush on her cheeks now.

"Never heard of it, it's at least an affiliate from one of the bigger groups right?"

"N-no...we're just an independent town newspaper." The blush was now far more prominent as Muckraker began rubbing one of her antennas. Kilo gave a sharp growl of frustration before turning his attention to Hammer.

"Dammit Hammer even in the press department w-"

"Private. Kiloton. Fantastic" Commanded Hammer.

"Yes sir?"

"Get one of your brown's." A slight hesitation by Kiloton was followed by him going into the vehicle and digging out a large pair of brown socks.

"Used, Private." This time Kiloton brought out a more stained pair.

"Now chew it."

"But-"

"Now Private." Kiloton gave a small whine but did as ordered, looking like an overstuffed gopher.

"80 reps." Ordered Hammer. No argument came this time, and soon Kiloton was on the dirt and half-grunting/half-cursing after every push up. Hammer sighed and turned to Muckraker.

"I do apologize for his attitude. The few hours before deployment puts everyone on edge. Some have more trouble dealing with it productively than others, but I promise he'll be far more professional once we're on the road." Hammer then made a motion to the vehicle. "Come on, I'll show you your quarters." Hammer made his way to the vehicle, trailed by Muckraker. They both made their way into the driver's side and Muckraker got her first glimpse of the inside of the Boxcar APC.

One thing Boxcars were never known for was comfort. The front windows seemed more like horizontal arrow slits on ancient castles, and the glass itself had multiple scratches and was caked in dust, making the outside even more impossibly brown. The seats were little more than metal plates with cheap cushions duck taped on top. All along the dashboard were knobs, dials, and watch-ama-callits Muckraker could make neither heads nor tails of. Some familiar objects such as a steering wheel and rear-view mirror were there, and there was even a metal figurine hanging from the mirror. Behind the driver's seat was the ammo belt for the turret. In the Boxcar it had been draped over metal bars in the ceiling multiple times, creating a curtain of ammunition that separated the driving compartment from the rest of the vehicle. The unfriendliness was continued on the outside with the red and black paint job that covered the whole vehicle in sharp angles. Her observations were then interrupted by Hammer rummaging through the duffel bag he was carrying and hefting up what seemed to be a large glass container.

"So Ms. Muckraker, this here'll be your living quarters. Fully functional, and fit for royalty!" He chirped.

"That...that's a fish tank!" She squeaked while she started rubbing her antennae.

"No it's not! It's an all condition safety enclosure specifically designed for breezie comfort!"

"There's coral decorations and a miniature castle!"

" Like I said...fit for royalty!" Hammer exclaimed with a smile that belonged only on the most used of used-car salesmen. Unfortunately for him, Muckraker only started babbling and darting about.

"Look, I-I-Idon'tthinkthiswillworkoutI'mjustgoingtogetkil-get in the way! I mean! I really should just-" At this she was interrupted by Hammer's claws gently cupping her, forming a small bowl while he dumped the smile and softened up his eyes.

"Hey, Miss Muckraker, I know how this all seems thrown together with no concern to your safety and comfort, but...what will happen in 8 months time is you will return to Granite's Point-"

"Granite's End"

"End, sorry. Still breathing, and with a Gullitzer Prize article to turn all your local reporters green with envy. Besides, you've been on global treks through inhospitable terrain for the big scoop before right?" He finished with a grin that seemed so goofy and try-hard that Muckraker couldn't help but giggle.

"Hehee...not really, I actually write articles for our Home and Garden section. Furthest I've traveled was 50 miles to the annual fertilizer convention."

*snort*"No kidding? Did the winner get the title "Best Shit in the Country?" This actually caused Muckraker to bowl over in laughter.

"HA! Now that you mention it, one of the local companies actually has "Best Shit Anywhere" as their slogan! They only got 3rd place though." She clambered up to the top of Hammer's impromptu bowl and took flight. Her demeanor dimmed somewhat when she looked at the aquarium/living quarters that was now resting in the passenger seat. Hammer cleared his throat to get her attention.

"Hey, I'm not finished with this little pep-talk ma'am. Now, as for comfort, I'd like to show you something." Hammer then clambered his way behind the front seats and through the ammo curtain before motioning her to follow. When she buzzed her way through, she had to take a moment to process what she was seeing.

While the front of the vehicle had little in the way of personal touches, the rear immediately gave Muckraker flashbacks to her old college dorm room. In front of her was a hammock stretched under the turret and overflowing with quilts and blankets overlooking a few heavy packs with labels like 'Kilo's Stuff' and 'I'll Bury Your Dick a Mile Under If You Keep Touching My Stuff Blockade'. Behind that was the main troop compartment. During combat operations, up to 16 soldiers of the Griffon phenotype would be crammed onto two thin benches while their gear was stashed in netting above their heads. This being a simple exploration mission, there was only the driving crew so the rear had turned into the living quarters of Hammer and Blockade. The available space in the rear had been painted with clouds, trees, and flowers, many of which Muckraker knew were native to the Green Nights region. On the left side was a sleeping bag rolled out on top of the bench and nearly drowning in books, most of which seemed to be technical manuals of a sort. A few strands of Hearthswarming lights had been strung up in the netting, bathing that side in a soft blue glow. On the wall was a few photos showing what must've been Blockade's family members, and a single photo of a deep blue combine. The other side was more spartan, with only a sleeping bag and single knapsack acting as a pillow.

"The King's Retreat, Emerald Palace, Ironhammer's Mega-Suites, none of them hold a candle our Boxcar. We've been through everything in this old girl, and I couldn't imagine a better place to spend the tour. Sure it has missing doors, the AC only works when it feels like it, oil is leaking from...somewhere, Blockade hasn't figured out where, but it has kept us alive, and will continue to do so, and to us nothing in the world beets that kind of feeling. Your fish tank will turn into the best goddamn place on the planet, I guarantee it." This time, Hammer's smile seemed to have actual heart behind it.

"Well...I guess this isn't...too bad."

"That's the spirit! Now let's find a good place for your home." Much of the available space in the Boxcar was already occupied by all manner of military gear, but there was just enough space on the dashboard to cram Muckraker's home underneath the glass. All her personal items were scooped up in one of Hammer's claws and gently deposited onto the aquarium floor. Just as Hammer was duck-taping down the aquarium turned apartment, an air horn gave three long blasts. Hammer made his way out of the vehicle to where Kilo was just finishing up his set.

"Alright guys, showtime."

*cheep che-"crap! Hellohellohello? Alright! Looks like I'm not permanently deaf, so that's a plus." Blockade's eyes narrowed when he caught sight of Muckraker and began to puff himself up before unleashing a tirade that was immediately shutdown by Hammer's glare.

"Private Blockade Runner, the situation has been dealt with and we have no need for your input. Now, how's the Boxcar?"

"As good as she'll ever be with no doors and no time in the motor pool. She'll get us there, but we're pretty much screwed if we get into anything resembling a fight." Blockade was now climbing into the driver's seat and started up the engine. He glanced at the coolant filter, mumbled "wasn't working anyway", and waited. The low purr of the Boxcar was soon joined by other vehicles on the base as everyone prepared to move into their starting positions. All this noise was succinctly drowned out by a massive roar coming from Earthbreaker.

As Muckraker tried to find a more comfortable position in her new home, she could swear that riding on Earthbreaker's engine roar was a constant, low level chittering noise. "Hey does anyone else hear that?" She tried rubbing her ears, trying to make the noise go away.

"That's the soulfire engines kicking in." Came Hammer's response. At the sight of Muckraker's ghostly complexion, he let out a chuckle. "Relax ma'am, we haven't used people as fuel for decades now, what you're hearing are cricket souls burning, that's where the chittering's coming from."

"Wait, crickets have souls?"

"Not much of one, so a command crawler like Earthbreaker needs to go through a few thousand an hour."

"So...does your vehicle have one?"

"Nope, ectoplasm. High grade stuff like in race cars." Answered Blockade. Looking back on the Earthbreaker, Muckraker could already see it slowly digging itself into the ground, where it would then follow the rest of the Mission into the Zone and serve as the Coalition HQ four miles underground.

All around them the last few soldiers were piling into their vehicles before pulling out into one of the many growing convoys snaking out of the base. Hammer was now on the radio with the rest of the 4th Dragoons that made up their convoy. Kilo was in his turret scanning the horizon and idly scratching one of his ears. A low hum came from Blockade while following directions from Hammer, the Boxcar occasionally bucking and moving in response.

This left Muckraker to try and get acquainted with her new living space. Unlike her parent's tree-house back home or her college dorm, there was no breezie amenities to speak of. No dew collector, no sponge bed, no flower bed, there wasn't even a single wind chime. The ground was a layer of colored gravel common in most aquariums, with a few sprouts of plastic coral scattered about. The castle was a dull grey thing with two turrets bracing a central room with an open drawbridge. Rubbing her antenna, Muckraker buzzed her way out of her home and adjusted her volume.

"So, how about you guys tell me about yourselves?" She received no response from anyone and so, with some time on her hooves, she dragged her bags into the castle and started to make a strip-mall sale as homely as she could. Outside the fort gradually retreated into the horizon, Earthbreaker having long since gone below ground. Ahead was the Zone, already slightly obscured by the dust cloud kicked up from the front of the convoy.

Easypedia General Archives -- Coalition of Nations History [Origins Excerpt]

The Coalition of Nations can trace its roots back to the Equestrian-Zebrican Conflict in the mid 13th century as a project of the Equestrian Ministry of Peace. Though the initial draft of the bill was written by a Manehatten clerk named Wooden Will, rumors persist that it was actually Fluttershy herself that came up with the idea. Whatever its true origins, the purpose of the C.o.N. was clarified with the 9 Points:

1. Provide a forum where nations can come together to work out their issues peacefully.
   
2. Creation of a organization to promote international trade and sharing resources.
   
3. Creation of an organization dedicated to researching new technologies, particularly energy generation.
   
4. Encourage global trade and the sharing of resources.
   
5. Abandoning the use of "secret treaties" for all members.
   
6. Provide a brain pool of scientists and engineers to assist in Point 3's organization.
   
7. Research into member state's defense/unification devices (examples include the Elements of Harmony and the Crystal Heart).
   
8. Establish cultural exchanges with all members to help improve diplomatic relations.

The ongoing conflict with the Zebra Empire meant there was little political will within the Ministry or Equestria to do anything with the idea until victory was achieved, so the C.o.N. idea was shelved for the duration of the war. A copy of the draft eventually found its way to the New Griffon Embassy in Vanhoover, whereby it spread globally over the period of a few months. Reactions were cold from nations that even bothered reading it: a nice idea of course, but when even the peace loving Equestrians and the supposedly "above this material nonsense" Zebras were currently tearing each other apart, what hope did this potential coalition have with nations even more war-like and bloody?

With the Megaspell event of 1345, the idea was quickly revisited by nations looking on in awe and terror at the glow on the horizon. A council was organized with initial members being the United Canine Packs, the South Avian Treaty Organization, the Pachydermian Economic Community, and the Naga Conclave. Agreements were rapidly made between the members to halt any current conflicts between the members and immediately start negotiations (such as the ongoing conflict between the UCP and the NC) to ensure a more lasting peace could take shape. By 1348, the newly formed Coalition of Nations had swelled to over 30 members, organized the first World Energy Forum, and laid the ground works for what would later become the Global Trade Organization. Unfortunately, the long term consequences from the War was just starting to appear and the C.o.N's initial efforts to contain the rising number of resulting disasters and cataclysms would prove woefully inadequate. This would culminate in the 1st Tartaran invasion, seen by most as the true start of the Burning Century.

Author's Note

Something a bit different from the usual FO:E fare.

Thanks for the read everyone. Here's a little something for making it through the chapter.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8huQdiU7x0