Tomorrow will live or die thanks to what we do today. -Sky Commander Screaming Typhoon

In other news Sea Commander Thundergrounds released a statement today emphasizing the -*static*- and dialogue if the CNERZ-EQZ mission is to have any chance of success -*static*-

"Turn off the damn radio, signal won't be getting any better." Grunted Hammer.

*click*

"Wake up, Kilo, you're missing the invasion." Hammer's response was only a grunt from the hammock currently occupied by the canine. Not deterred, Hammer kept up the pressure.

"Come on soldier, we're on the move now."

"If we'd have moved, I'd have felt it, Hammer. The car's been stopped for hours, and I can certainly guarantee you can't invade jack while in park." Kilo did have a point of course; their Boxcar, along with nearly every other vehicle in the convoy, had been holding their positions since the sun had risen.

Their route had taken them well into the Demilitarized Zone. Demilitarized, not from any treaty, but from the efforts of the pegasi fanatics making sure anything larger than an ant was cooked into glass. From one end of the horizon to the other, the surface looked like an avant-garde painting of the lunar surface, shimmering in the mid-afternoon sun. Craters were everywhere, their crests twisting in all sorts of macabre shapes. Sticking out at odd angles were the remains of chariots, gun wagons, and other war detritus that surrounded them.

The squad had changed their attire into something more suitable for a balefire-blasted hellscape. Gas masks and MOPP suits squeaked at the slightest movement. Muckraker had been sealed up in her aquarium with copious amounts of duct tape. For communication, a stethoscope had been duct-taped on her side.

"How many people do you think are out there?" Questioned Muckraker.

"All told? A few hundred thousand at least. I believe the second expedition was the largest." Came Blockade's response. He had his hooves kicked up on the wheel while reading a book on maintaining engram harvesters.

"Less of an expedition and more a giant suicide pact if you ask me." Interjected Kilo. "Anyone left on the continent had the choice of either being vaporized by the pegasi or facing the Ruin Song. Not exactly a hard decision to make."

Muckraker was currently watching figures crawling around and over the glass formations while Kilo continued. "At this point any remains have either fused to glass or been blown away a century ago. No one's really expecting the corpse crews to find anything identifiable." The noise of pickaxes and jackhammers could be heard as the crews swarmed the crater edges and attempted to dislodge pieces of wreckage from the surrounding glass. A dull boom joined the din and far out towards the front of the convoy there was a rising column of smoke.

"There goes another one." Hammer mumbled to himself as he preened some of his primaries.

"GAH! Can't the saps work just a TINY bit fucking faster? It's not like their holding up an invasion or anything! I'd rather take the damn risk and finally get somewhere!" Blockade had begun taping his talons on the dash, the dull *tap* *tap* *tap* bouncing around in everyone's heads.

Overhead a heavy *THWOP* *THWOP* alerted the group to a news helicopter as it began to orbit their section of the convoy; the blue and green color scheme indicating its GNN ownership. Muckraker grimaced as she glanced from the chopper to her guardians. She made sure the omnicorder was on and bumped the volume up a notch.

"So, uh...how about some backstories?" Hammer and Blockade just gave her some odd looks. After a few more seconds passed, "I'm sorry what?" came Blockade's incredulous reply.

"W-well the readers back home want to know about you guys and I-"

Her babbling was immediately brought to an end when Kilo burst through the ammo curtain before shoving his way past a squawking Hammer and Blockade to bring his grinning face right in front of the glass, showing off more canines than Muckracker thought was possible to have before stuffing one of his paws into a pocket and bringing out a photo. On it was Kilo himself in dress uniform, one of his arms surrounding a light brown canine slightly taller than him. Coming up to their knees were two pups chasing each other around the adults.

"Right! Here's my husband High-Rolling and our pup's: Cordite and Thermite. They were gifted to us by our Clan Alpha, Mr. Fantastic, just over 7 years ago. Aren't they just the sweetest pup bundles you've ever seen? Cordite's an inquisitive little pup and would love to spend time talking your ears off while Thermite would just talk you out of your wallet. We're out with the rest of the Fantastic clan on Marathon where we spent pretty much all our lives."

"Marathon? The last Traction City still moving?"

"The one and only! Marathon still does the old route up the Shimmering Plains every year. And it's all thanks to our City Spirit. Old geezer refuses to settle down anywhere. Met him when I was just a pup; he threw one of his cigs at me! It's still framed in the living room. Now for a bit of personal history. I grew up learning how to work the City fuel lines before being paired with High-Rolling. Gods those were the days. Favorite food? Well, that would be buffalo filly wings-what else? Favorite color? Blue of course! Favorite day of the week? Tuesday! What else? Oh! My family would replace the ectoplasma with water on holidays and turned the whole fuel system into a series of water slides. Did you know that...well, never mind that old bit. Was planning on going into the Navigation Department, but got a draft notice-OOF!" A good shove sent him lurching back through the ammo curtain and into his hammock that spun about and wrapped him up like a cocoon. Hammer now took up most of her vision and the used-car salesman grin was being worn with pride.

"Yours truly comes from the Southern Wall back in '96. To factory workers I was born to, and a factory worker I was expected to be-but! the 3rd Tartaran Invasion had just been repelled and the airwaves were full of heroes smashing the demonic forces. I wanted to be part of this legend so I stayed in the military school system when I turned 16. For the next 35 years I served the Coalition all over the globe and beyond! From the Radiation Pits of New Mane to the electric typhoons off the Sunrise coast, I've seen more action than the entirety of 4th Dragoon's combined-"

"You haven't seen any combat!"

"Keep your trap shut, Kilo! Now, considering my chances of survival if I yap on about any of my future plans, I'll just go ahead and hand the proverbial mike over to Blockade here!" There was a slight grumble from the hippogriff, but he did get into a more comfortable position before starting to speak.

"I'm here for college. I complete a tour here keeping this brick together and I get a full ride scholarship." He shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing much else really."

"No family, childhood home, or anything?"

"Nothing that matters to you or your Granite's End backwater."

"Blockade!"

"Nonono! It's alright! Really! This should be plenty for my backwater folks...eheh."

After checking to see that she got the actual recording, Muckraker turned her attention to the outside world for anything new. To their right a row of bowsers began to grumble forward, only to by replaced by the silo-shape of a Mobile Base Unit, blocking out any view they had of that side.

"Great, the view just got even more dull."

The next hour passed with little to show for it. Then the next. And the next. And the next. The occasional blasts far to the front of the convoy disappeared and even the Boxcar's clock stopped (it started again when given a good whack by Blockade). Muckraker had taken to doing the worm inside her new home while Kilo had left the vehicle and decided to kick some rocks on the side of the road. Hammer was dozing off while in the form of a demented pretzel. As for Blockade...there was sweaty claws gripping the wheel, bloodshot eyes, and a mind that was on the verge of breaking down with a twitch, twitch, twitch.

*twitch*....*twitch*..."Hammer."

...

...

*twit-HAMMER!"

"ACK-what the fuck Blockade!"

"I can't take it anymore! Play the fucking tape!"

"...That bad huh? Alright then. HEY, KILO! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE WE'VE GOT SOME LECTURES TO LISTEN TO!" Hammer was practically vibrating with excitement as he fished out a Trotman from his bag before waggling his eyebrows at Muckracker. Kilo had clambered back into his cot while Blockade attempted to get more comfortable in his seat before taking deep breaths. Initial confusion from Muckracker only lasted until the first words came out of the cassette player and then-

...nothing mattered anymore. A swirling maelstrom of absolute boredom came over her as the Trotman spoke of the history of weights and measurements of the ancient griffons.

It started with the dull droning of the narrator that sent Muckraker on an unwanted nostalgia trip back to her college days. Her eyes crusted up, her head felt like bricks, and time seemed to grind to a halt. Numbers started spreading out from Muckraker's wings, Hammer's feet, and Blockade's eyes. Flowing in places like water around the car, other times being written out by invisible hands, they reached every nook and cranny. The smell of old money and ancient vaults grew until they took on a liquid quality, drowning everyone in a sea of dirt and gold. The voice from the Trotman gummed up around Muckraker, trapping her in place and deadening her mind. Any terror was wrapped in a blanket of sharp dullness and talked to death by the narrator, who went on to murder every other emotion until the only one left was a resounding "blegh". Outside other vehicles were being mashed together in new and uninteresting forms. Tenement blocks, warehouses, and a myriad of other infernally drab buildings pilled up onto each other and formed mountains of utilitarian concrete, reaching to a sky buttressed with weights and the muttering of the narrator.

Kilo was going about melding into the hammock before fading off into the distance. Blockade was shattering into a million pages, only to reform and break apart again and again. Hammer's head was now a replica of the Trotman, vomiting out regulatory techniques and paradigm shifts. Muckraker found herself sinking in a sea of inquiries that filled up her home and spilled out over the dashboard.

An earthquake began injecting some actual excitement as the mountains, cities, everything began to collapse around her and she was hurled back into reality. The Trotman was quiet again, replaced with the roar of the Boxcar as it lurched ahead. Kilo had gone back into his turret while Hammer chatted up the radio. The scenery had started moving outside of the APC with vehicles of all descriptions jostling each other to get ahead. The lack of front doors was also allowing a healthy serving of dust to get kicked inside, but the suits allowed the squad to ignore the distraction and focus on what was ahead.

"Huh, might as well get started on a column." She muttered to herself as she buzzed into the miniature castle. The inside was empty barring her own pile of belongings and stunk of fresh plastic. Rummaging through her belongings rewarded her with a notepad and a reading lamp.

Heroes were my watchers on this journey...

"No that won't work."

It was a hot a dry day when I joined up with the Dragoons...

"Again no."

My name is Muckraker from the Granite's End Gazette...

"That's just stupid..."

"Comeoncomeoncomeon-YEEP!" Muckraker's slow descent into writer's block madness was halted by the entire castle jumping and scattering her belongings.

"It's the road!" Came Kiloton's shout. Indeed there was actual blacktop rolling under them. Cracked, cooked, and potholed, but still there. They had now left the glassed lands of the DMZ behind them and were now surrounded by fields of grass and shrubs, lit gold by the setting sun. A few skeletons of trees sprouted up here and there, but nothing else was in view.

So this is Equestria proper. Hm.

As the golden fields whipped by, gears slowly started turning in her head. People were hard to write about, but plants...

Quickly she zipped back into the castle, ignoring the mess and started jotting down notes.

Prairie grass. New growth. Dead trees. Apple?

She felt the APC lurch forward and heard Blockade give a whoop of delight.

"HA! Welcome to the Zone bitches!"

Easypedia General Archives -- Coalition of Nations Exploration and Reintegration of the Zebrican-Equestrian Quarantine Zone [Controversy]

The CNERZ-EQZ Mission has received repeated criticisms from multiple groups in the Coalition government and NGOs. The NC, AGN, UCP, and other nations have repeatedly called it a waste of time and resources better spent on providing better security to Coalition hot spots such as the Underworld Quadrant and Red Zone 3. Its backers such as the Equestrian Government in Exile (EGE) and New Zebrica (NZ) have taken the opposite view and called for the Mission to be upgraded to a combat level, giving it access to far greater amounts of people and equipment. New Zebrica has also criticized the focus of the mission, stating that giving the Zebrican homeland a few reconnaissance flights while having all troops, bases, and reclamation projects focused on Equestria proper only proves the Zebrican people still suffer discriminatory practices under the Coalition. The EGE and other polities have denied the allegations. NGOs such as the Royal Archeological Society, the Higher Education Association, and Historians United have continually butted heads with Mission Command on receiving priority for scavenging and research objectives and have threatened to cut funding unless their demands are met.

Author's Note

Another chapter, another video.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVBtHEi23bQ

Hope the holidays are treating you guys well.

There are errors here I'm missing. Help's always appreciated in that regard.