Put some Pep in your Step! -Peppy Cola Slogan

The sun had cleared the horizon and was steadily making its way to its zenith as 3rd Dragoons weaved their way through dead traffic. Off to their west, a lone cumulonimbus was emptying its contents onto the remains of a far off town. Their drive had been relatively quiet, the local fauna staying either out of sight or too far away to make out. The only excitement they had was when Blockade had to swerve around a trailer and a station wagon popped into view too quickly for him to miss. The resulting collision sent the station wagon spiraling off into a roadside ditch. Hammer was back in his pretzel fitfully sleeping while Blockade had one claw on the wheel while another was out of the Boxcar making waving motions. Kiloton had kept his gun trained on anything of interest as they sped along until he got bored enough to notice Muckraker had came out of the castle and took the corner furthest away from Hammer, curling up into a ball with her face mashed into her knees. Her wings were drooping as well.

"...Hey Reporter."

*sniff* "W-what?" As small as she was, Kilo could still see her eyes glistening.

"What's got the waterworks going?"

"Why would you care?" Kilo chewed the inside of his lip and thought a moment before responding.

"Look...I don't like it when people smaller than me are hurt. Really don't. When Cordite sprained his ankle during Hoofball practice, I cried more than he did. So out with it, Ms. Muckraker." She didn't respond for a hot second, then slowly got up before buzzing up and through the top hatch and resting on the black plastic top.

"...Corporal Hammer threatened to kill me." Kilo was about to go into a laughing fit before pausing a second to consider this and sliding his way out of the turret and into the driving compartment.

"So one of the things you've got to realize is that Hammer's one of the old guard. Like the Marshalls. They could and did shoot soldiers just for losing their weapons or even speaking out. He's a product of that system, but thankfully, rendered just as impotent.* His threats against you will never go beyond words, otherwise I'm legally required to turn him into hamburger and Blockade has to role over what's left." Blockade took this moment to speak up.
*The sleeping Hammer snorted at this.

"We get death threats all the time, it's just something you get used to. And I'm not sorry, but if you can't handle a few mean words, then we're going to have a problem here. Exploration mission or no, we're going into uncharted territory where we'll have to deal with things a lot more dangerous than language. So suck it up. I don't want to turn my girl around and go all the way back to Long Home." Kilo glared at him, but Muckraker spoke up.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me right? Yeah...yeah I think I can do this. Thanks, both of you."

"So what got you the death threats in the first place?"

"Oh! Well, your Lieutenant mistook me for Hammer's pet and started chastising him, so I tried to intervene, but I -uhm- kind of used too much volume and gave him a panic attack and made him cry." This got the attention of both Kilo and Blockade.

"Wait really?!" Asked a smiling, tail wagging Kilo while even Blockade had cracked a grin and was looking eager for more.

"Tell me you got a recording of that!"

"Sorry but...you know what? Let me check." Muckraker flipped a switch on her omnicorder which brought up a small HUD in front of her before sifting though her files. Blockade and Kilo eagerly anticipating their early Hearthswarming gift.

"...No video, but I did get the audio!"

"Well don't keep us in suspense dude! Play it!" With a few clicks and a turn of the volume control to the appropriate level, the Boxcar was soon filled with the sounds of their commander showing the expected levels of competence and maturity expected of a Coalition officer. Kilo and Blockade both began guffawing and even Muckraker got in on the act with a little giggle-snort. The laughter petered out into a more comfortable silence before Kilo shimmied his way back up into the turret. Muckraker pulled out her notepad before jotting down what had just transpired. She was nearly finished before Kiloton spotted something on the horizon.

"Smoke!" Barked Kiloton, getting both the attentions of Muckraker and Blockade while sending Hammer scrambling in his seat desperately trying to untangle himself. The trio inside the vehicle squinted out the window trying to confirm.

It took a few seconds, but a grey smear was slowly crawling over the horizon; narrowing and darkening to a point inside a mass of wrecked train carriages and a lone water tower peeking over it all. The Boxcar slowed down while Blockade made the turnoff onto a dusty path that lead to the train wreckage. Hammer pulled out what looked like a drunken soiree between a rocket and motorcycle that ran on testosterone. Covered in chrome, fins, and decals, the Mk. 3 Duke combat rifle looked more at home on the charred surface of Tartarus, not the Zone. He also fished out a pill bottle before downing a good clawful. This went noticed but without comment.

They began passing by the remains of a cargo train, the rolling stock consisting of flatbeds, cattle cars, and tankers. The rail line began branching off into smaller lines, populated by an occasional flatbed or even the burnt remains of a caboose. Their destination ahead still awaited them, though now the smoke had dissipated. As they went deeper, the rolling stock left the rails; some turned over, and even some half buried and jutting out at odd angles. At the center of it all was a half-collapsed train shed with the rusting remains of a steam engine poking out of one of the doors.

"Stop here." Ordered Hammer, before radioing in their position. Kilo pulled out a twin of Hammer's rifle while Blockade had a cousin in the form of a shotgun. Muckraker pressed herself against the Boxcar's windshield and made sure she was recording. The squad filed out of the APC and began spreading out before Kilo froze.

"Movement!" He barked, causing Hammer and Kilo to raise both their weapons.

"Where?"

"Don't know! I'm not that sensitive!" After a few seconds, Hammer noticed a coach almost fully buried in the dirt, barely a pony length sticking out of the ground. What separated it from the scenery was a pipe haphazardly bolted on the side.

"Kilo: back on the gun. Blockade: with me." As Hammer and Blockade slowly made their way up to the car, Kilo brought his Ramjet autocannon to bear. A low hum emanated from the device and Kilo began checking his surroundings and taking long, steady breaths.

Blockade in front, Hammer behind, they slowly made their way to the coach door. Kilo looked back at Hammer with a questioning glance. Hammer took his place up front and cleared his throat before giving the door a few knocks.

"Hello? Is anyone in there?" A few seconds of quiet passed before Hammer tried again.

"We're from the Coalition and we're here to help! So, uh, you can come on out for this...once in a lifetime opportunity?" Despite Hammer's negotiating skills, the door remained unmoved.

"We're supposed to be making contact with the locals! Not sell them steak knives!" Hissed Blockade. Hammer shushed him before trying to wow the door one last time with diplomacy.

"Can you speak English? Habla espanol? Sprechen sie deutsch?" Defeated by the door, Hammer turned to Blockade. "Well that's bust."

"You think whatever's down there left?" Asked Blockade.

"Maybe. Maybe they're in another buried car. We'll need to check this one anyways to be sure." Responded Hammer as he traded places with his partner.

Gripping the handle, Blockade gave a glance back to Hammer. Holding on to Blockade's withers, Hammer gave a nod.

Blockade breathed in.

The handle was turned.

The door opened slightly.
.
.
.
.
And nothing else.

Blockade breathed out in relief and began to open the door the rest of the way.

*twang*

*BANG!* Hammer was already yanking Blockade out of the way, which turned what would've been a pulped head into a pulped claw. Blockade's screech tore through the rail yard and even as he was being flung back, he pulled the trigger on his wildly swinging shotgun. 21 miniaturized gyro jets activated, sending ordnance launching out of his shotgun barrels and into a nearby tanker car. On the way, coating surrounding each round ignited, turning the rounds into screaming stars. Speed and heat generated by their travel time allowed the rounds to burrow through the outer and inner casings and into its hydrocarbon rich center. The heat and still active incendiaries alone would've ignited the liquid, but the internal explosives in the rounds just beat it to the punch.

The resulting explosion catastrophically ruptured the tanker car and sent a geyser of smoke and fire careening off into the air. Hammer and a still screeching Blockade were flung on their backs from the shock wave and caused the Boxcar to lurch off the ground for a split second and rattled its occupants something fierce.

Ignoring the ringing in his ears, Hammer fished into one of his pockets and brought out a heavy duty auto-injector before slamming it into the whimpering hippogriff. A complex mix of morphine, neurotransmitters, stem cells, and healing potions based on the old equestrian model worked fast to dull the pain and help Blockade's body stabilize and start repairing the damage.* Hammer hauled Blockade onto his back before gunning it to the Boxcar.
*And continued to help ensure that it would remain the flagship product of the Panacea Corporation.

"What the hell was that!?" Barked Kilo as he unloaded into an old rail shed, wildly looking around and cursing to himself. He'd boosted the power to the gun, turning the low hum into an angry whine of medium power, the heavy chainsaw roar of the gun echoing through the train yard.

"That's called "contact" Private!" Hammer returned while going through the back entrance of the vehicle and gently laying Blockade down on one of the benches. The effects of the drug had taken hold and Blockade had his head back and looking out the back and into the yard; watching the shadows generated by the oil fire dance and and fight across the scenery. He imagined the vanishingly few happier times in the shadows: the school, the farm, that time when a cute filly unexpectedly said yes to the offer of a date...

Blockade's musings went uninterrupted while Kilo continued with suppressing fire and Hammer hooked up an IV bag and loosely bandaged up Blockade's claw. The repairs were already starting, the slowly growing skin and bone creeping out Hammer and encouraged him to finish bandaging. He was about to check up on Kilo when Blockade's good claw gripped him.

"Hey, Hammer, did I do right? Will they bring me back after the reboot?"

Hammer rolled his eyes. "You're going to be fine Private, the drugs have got you high as a kite right now, but you're not going anywhere." He paused for a second. "And your story isn't even close to over." Giving Blockade a pat, Hammer closed the rear door before pulling out a munitions box and rummaging through it.

"How is he?" Questioned Kilo. The turret was mostly quite now and Kilo swung it back and forth, daring anything stupid enough to poke its head out.

"He'll be fine, anything on your end?"

"Nadda. No movement from the car, and beyond the fire it's like a graveyard out here. So what's the plan?" Hammer responded by bringing out a bandolier packed with grenades and giving a small grin.

"Now we give those bastards a proper Coalition welcome." Hammer just started exiting the APC before pausing to look at the fire and began frowning, the flames bathing him in a near uncomfortable heat.

"Hammer?"

"...We don't know what's down there beyond 'hostile'. There could be a nuke down for all we know." Looking at Kilo's confused stare, Hammer explained. "Zebrican and Equestrian nukes were, like, stupidly unstable and criminally easy to set off. Point is we need to see what's down there before using these." He gave the bandolier a shake for emphasis.

"But how do we do that?"

"I'm thinking! I'm thinking."

"I can do it." Muckraker took this moment to speak up.

"Do what now?" Muckraker responded by tapping her omni-corder. The Hammer and Kilo looked at her gobsmacked.

"Hell no! Using a reporter as a fucking guinea pig violates, like, every damn rule we have and like a billion we don't even know about!"

"I'm not saying I'll personally go over there." She replied as she unhooked her omni-corder. "I already have it recording, so all you need is to find a way to get it over the hole." Hammer considered this before nodding. After a few minutes of scrounging, their new DIY peeping tom device* was ready to go.
*Omnicorder + Duct Tape + Random 6 ft Pipe

Hammer made his way back to the buried car and fed the omni-corder over the open doorway. The response came in the form of a rifle bullet striking the pipe and nearly vibrating it out of Hammer's arms. Flapping his wings, he yanked the omni-corder out of harms way. Checking the damage, Hammer noticed an entrance and exit hole in the pipe right next to the recorder, but the device itself appeared unharmed, its red light still on. Nodding to himself, Hammer returned to the Boxcar and removed the omni-corder from the pipe and handed it to Muckraker. After a few swipes, Muckraker brought up a single image and gave the squad their first look at the locals.

The internals of the coach car had been stuffed full of what could generously be described as "junk" with a corridor going down to the other end. Just to their side was a rusting shotgun attached to a wooden stand with a string tied around the trigger. At the very bottom, taking up most of the view, was a mountain of a mare. Even through her makeshift armor, muscle upon muscle could be made out. Her face was just as pleasant: scars crisscrossed her face, a few traveling over hard eyes and sharp teeth. The rest of her head was obscured by a worn, but well cared for helmet. The image was completed by a battle saddle with a scoped hunting rifle securely fastened on. Just in front of her was a magical shield; barely enough to cover her, but allowed her rifle to poke through. She lacked a horn though, so the shield generating culprit was traced to a figure behind her.

What wasn't obscured by the mare in front and above showed a smaller unicorn stallion in patchwork farmer's fatigues. Rather than scars, his body seemed caked in soot. Clutched in his mouth was a butcher's knife and floating right behind him was a brick. Smaller in stature, his eyes showed more fear than his counterpart, but he seemed to be trying his best to look intimidating.

"Welp, with that unicorn down there, throwing any grenades down there will just be an exercise in an explosive boomerang, we're going to need a new way to take care of those assholes." Stated Hammer.

"Hang on a minute! We-"

"Who the fuck are you?" Their argument was brought to a screeching halt as they whipped their heads around and noticed 2 very important things:

1. They were no longer alone.
   
2. They were staring down the barrel of the mare's rifle.

Slowly, very slowly, Hammer brought up his claws. This was shortly followed by Kilo and Muckraker. Putting on his grin Hammer again tried out First Contact. "Hello! We're from the Coalition and we're here to help! I'm corporal Hammer, this is Private Kilo, and your trap already said hello to Private Blockade. And for flavor, we've got a reporter tagging along. Give the very nice ponies a wave Ms. Muckraker." Muckraker got in view and did her best to get their attention with maniacal waving, but beyond a glance and a raised eyebrow from the mare, the gun/shield combo remained on the squad. "3rd Company, 4th Dragoons says hello, er, again."

"Never heard of you. Fuck off." She responded. The stallion meanwhile was behind her and keeping up the gun shield, but kept looking back and forth between the squad and the burning oil car, looking increasingly worried.

"That's...not really a thing we can do. Orders, see?"

"I'll turn you both into corpses before you can say "shit". FUCK. OFF."

"You can't kill us!"

"Why?"

"Because..." Hammer took a second to think, desperately trying to think of a reason not to go six feet under. Inspiration came from looking back at the fire. "You need us!"

"We do?"

"Yeah!" Hammer was on a role now, words tumbling out his mouth faster than he could speak. "You cut off your smoke right? That means that you see hiding as your first line of defense, which means you don't think you can take on large groups of enemies right? And this oil fire just made a fuck-off huge smoke column, telling the whole zone 'I'm here! Look at me!' You're gonna need us to fight em off!" The mare seemed to consider this for a moment before stomping a hoof on the ground.

"And why should I believe you can handle what we can't? We just took you all hostage!" She exclaimed.

"How about a bet? We fight off any badies; you don't kill us. And if they do manage come in and kill us all; you get to kill us. Sound good?" She just looked at him incredulously.

"Where the hell did you learn to bet?" She asked.

"Casinos, funnily enough. I suck at gambling." She took a moment to think before looking back at the stallion, who gave a quick nod. Sighing, she lowered her gun.

"Fine. FINE. You're helping us out of whatever mess you just got us into." The stallion took this moment to turn off his shield and gallop towards the fire. With a hum of his horn, a nearly transparent dome fell over the whole conflagration. Almost immediately, a vacuum sound could be heard coming from the dome and before everyone's eyes, the fire began dying down. Hammer took this opportunity for some questions.

"So how about some names?" He inquired.

"Steelhide." She pointed to herself, then motioned to the stallion. "Fallow."

"So are you guys like, scavengers? Cultists?"

"Farmers." Hammer took a brief look around the rail yard before giving her an odd look. She waved him off . "Fallow will explain later." As they watched Fallow smother any remaining embers, Hammer continued.

"Why didn't you answer us when we knocked?"

"People don't just go around knocking on doors saying "Hello! How are you this fine day?"".

"Sorry, first day on the job of contacting undiscovered civilizations." He gave a half-hearted chuckle. At Steelhide's confused look he cringed. "It was a joke."

"Oh." She paused. "Are jokes not funny where you come from?" This made Kilo break out in sniggers. Trying to change the subject, Hammer moved on to another question.

"So is Fallow like your brother or-"

"Husband." She replied with a hint of pride. Before long, all that was left of the fire was melted, twisted metal. Nodding his head in satisfaction, Fallow disabled the shield and trotted back to the Boxcar. "They're safe." She called out before giving a pointed look at both Hammer and Kilo. "For now." Fallow's face lit up as he approached.

"Wonderful news! Apologies for the trap. We were hoping it would've just killed you outright, but this is fine too! It didn't hurt your friend too bad did it?" Hammer and Kilo looked in the back where Blockade was blowing raspberries to a jaunty tune.

"He'll be fine."

"Excellent!" He took a moment to glance up at the column of smoke smearing itself against the sky and giving a small frown. "Bother that is. We'll be betting some mighty unpleasant attention I do believe." He gave an almost expectant look at the soldier duo.

Hammer waved a dismissive claw. "Don't worry, keeping this place safe was in the job description anyways. And, on top of the complimentary home security system provided at no cost, we'll be paying rent every month." He explained as he began pulling out a rolled up stack of bills.

"Payment? You got caps?" Steelhide asked.

"Uh, caps?" Questioned Kilo.

"...wow you're really not from here Bottle caps. The things you find on all the Sparkle Cola bottles." She fished around in one of her pouches before bringing out a slightly dented Sparkle Cola bottle cap.

"...Okay. Sure, we'll be paying in caps. How does a~uh." Hammer looked back at Kilo and Muckraker while quietly shoving his original payment back out of sight. The two both shrugged their shoulders. "What's a reasonable amount of caps for you guys?" He inquired while scratching the back of his neck.

Steelhide was about to answer until Fallow blurted out "A thousand?" Steelhide gave an angry look back at him before Hammer shrugged.

"A thousand it is. Though, we don't have Sparkle caps. Is Peppy okay?" Steelhide's and Fallow's response was in the form of both their jaws reaching the ground and both their irises shrinking to minute pinpricks. "Uhm...is that too low-"

"NO!" Both shouted out in unison before Steelhide continued. "No, it's...it's a reasonable amount. Hang on a second, how can we know you're good for it?" Hammer rubbed his beak in thought before snapping his claws. He clambered into the back of the Boxcar where Blockade had fallen asleep. After a quick check to make sure he was still alright, Hammer began fishing through containers before pulling out a steel briefcase with a red cross overlaid on a green leaf. Getting out, Hammer caught Kilo's raised eyebrow. Opening it up revealed a dozen examples of the auto-injector used on Blockade.

"This here's Panacea brand auto-injectors. Now, hang on a second while I get the beat right." Hammer began snapping his claws and tapping his rear paws before a jaunty tune began to be sung.

Sticks and Stones
Shredded Bones
All Seems lost?
Have no fuss!
For your Panacea is here!
Blood restored
Bones reset
and flesh returned to the showroom floor!

"...So, it's Hydra?" Fallow asked.

"If that's a good thing then yes. If not, then no. How much is a dose of this 'hydra' worth?"

"Usually around 60 caps, give or take."

Hammer responded by closing up the case and placing it in front of their new landlords. "Consider it a deposit." Steelhide and Fallow shared a hushed conversation before Fallow picked up the case and trotted back to the buried rail car.

"I'll be on lookout and once I see anything, we'll ride out to whatever comes near and, hopefully, take care of any problems before they get too close." She took a glance at the Boxcar. "If you'll let me ride along."

Kilo spoke up. "Actually, I've got a better idea." He fished out a small object. "You ever used a walkie-talkie before?" He gave a glance at Hammer, who thought it over before giving a thumbs up. Tossing it at her, she caught it before giving it a quick once over.

"Never one so small before, but yeah."

"Good enough for us, you can stay in the tower with the rifle and we'll stay in the open with the Boxcar." Hammer patted the vehicle. "You point out enemies and we'll clear em' out."

"How about I give the reporter -Ms Muckraker, was it?- a bit of an interview while the mean killing machines figure out how to defend us poor damsels?" Fallow reentered the group and conversation. Muckraker brightened up and glanced at Hammer. He shrugged.

"It's kind of the whole reason you're here right? Go nuts, but stay where we can see you." After a crash course in operating the devices, Steelhide had taken her place in the water tower. Fallow meanwhile had pulled up a chair that might've been at home in the first class section of the train before 200 years of wear and tear would've placed it comfortably in the livestock section.* Muckraker found a seat on the remains of some railroad ties before starting the interview.
*As pig feed.

"So...uhm, how about we start with some names?"

"Oh! Didn't you hear earlier? No worries then. No harm, no foul."

"Sorry sorry. First time interviewing members from a lost civilization that's going to be read by everyone in my town." Maybe even the whole parish. Maybe even people from New Berliner might read it. Maybe- She interrupted her ramblings with a few good whacks to the head and spent a few seconds with breathing exercises. Once finished, she started with the interview. "Let's go for names first."

"The unicorn in front of you goes by the name of Fallow while my wife up in the tower is Steelhide."

"Can you tell me a bit about your home?" She gestured vaguely to the surrounding train carcasses.

"...From what my pops told me this was called a rail yard where they would load anything your heart desired before carrying it to the other side of the world on self-driving engines. Crazy ain't it? I've looked around, but all these engines have been rusted out and broken down. Must've been something to see..." He added with a frown.

"You'd like to ride in them?"

"...I don't know. It's weird really. Like, my cutie mark here says I'm some sort of farmer yeah? But whenever I get some time to myself, I can spend hours just sitting in their...cockpits? I think?; pulling levers, spinning valves, and pulling a rope that I know, in my heart of hearts, was supposed to make it sing."

"Hmm. Seems like you've got a case of TI. It's rare, but it happens."

"TI?"

"Sorry. Talent Incompatibility: your proper cutie mark was somehow switched out with another so you're stuck with the wrong talent."

"But I'm a good farmer! And I'm happy to do it! It's just...I feel like I can be good at more than just one thing, you know?"

"Maybe you're a Protagonist then! Characters that aren't flat as a board usually aren't wasted on Background Characters or NPC's. You'll be an action figure in no time!" She gave a quick giggle. At Fallow's confused look she decided to change the subject. "Anyways, can I get a bit of some general history of what happened here?"

"Where to start, where to start? Ah! Let's go back to the beginning. Can't have a story without a beginning eh? So, LONGlonglonglong time ago this was a land called 'Equestria' where no one wanted for anything and everything was happiness and sunshine. For some reason they decided to go 'sod this' and blow each other up. The pegasi retreated to the clouds and became the 'Enclave' and left everyone else to basically kill each other for scraps. And then..." He took a moment to scratch his chin. "Basically nothing happened for a few centuries 'till now."

"Now?"

"Oh yes! Seems like everything started happening within the past year. The sky clearing up? Some mare named 'Pipsqueak' climbed out a hole and killed the Enclave one day. Most of the radiation's gone too. There was this puppy who could call down thunder with his paws. Even crazier, there's this walking bottle of booze -an actual bottle, mind you- who was like, a masochist, or something. How does that work with glass anyhow? Anyways-"

"Honey!"

"Yes dear?"

"Stop filling her with nonsense!"

"But the trader swore up and down that everything was the real deal!"

"Forgive him, he's never been more than a few miles from the yard, and has one of the worst cases of 'the grass is always greener' that I've ever seen. I swear, he'd be Hell Hound chow three times over chasing these wonder tales if it wasn't for-" she paused for a second, grimacing "-taking care of stuff around here. Come on up and I'll give you the real low-down." Muckraker buzzed up the tower to the entrance of Steelhide's sniper nest. The tower no longer had its top and was accessible through a rickety ladder. 4 holes had been punched out for better viewing and the sides had been pockmarked with bullet holes and thermal burns. The interior consisted of a ragged mattress, steel plates bolted onto the walls, scraps of paper describing what appeared to be the surrounding area, glass jars Muckraker decided to never acknowledge, and a slightly bored looking Steelhide occasionally glancing through her rifle scope.

"So none of it's true then?"

"Boredom + Time + Booze equals some real fucking tall tales. You should hear about the ones with time travel or the moon ponies."

"We~ll traveling to other worlds isn't too crazy. We travel to another dimension all the time! Basically all our fuel comes from there."

"Really?"

"Yup! Processed demon corpses make for a surprisingly clean energy source."

"Mmhmm, and you've also got time traveling booze too."

"I'm seri- ugh! Moving on! What are things like, currently? Who are the main powers, as it were?"

"Well, you've got the 'New Canterlot Republic' who, if you believe them, want to bring back the old pre-war days of peace and fucking happiness. They got a dose of the real world almost instantly when the remnants of the Enclave started pillaging everything and started besieging one of the towers."

"Towers?"

"Big, tall, needle-dick things scattered all over. There's too much haze right now, but there's one to the north of here that we can see when enough fires burn down." She gestured vaguely in that direction. Try as she might, Muckraker couldn't make anything out in the air fuzz. "That other one for some reason is important enough that pretty much every single pegasi from the remnants of the...I'll just call 'em Enclave Remnants. Sounds better. Yeah. They're all holed up there trying to break in and are now themselves besieged by the newly minted NCR Army. You've got a buck-ton of refugees trying to get out of the whole region as well, which just puts strain on the surrounding areas. Just traded a wastland for a warzone. So you've got that whole mess way up to the northwest."

"You've got the Steel Rangers, who's only unifying goal is "I want that tech, gimme gimme". Make sure to hide anything more advanced than a sharpened spear when talking to them. They're in an off-again, on-again civil war now, so that makes dealing with them even more dangerous than usual. About the only thing that was ever good about them was they paid good caps for Raider heads-" Steelhide paused as she glanced south. Moving to the southern opening, she peered out through her scope before quietly cursing to herself. "Corporal Hammer!" she barked into the walkie-talkie "We've got vermin to the south and lots of it!"

EASYPEDIA GENERAL ARCHIVES -- Type 23 Boxcar IFV
When development and mass production of Thunderbolt Steel gave the Coalition military the option to effectively armor up its rolling stock, combat doctrine shifted from emphasizing mobility like the venerable Hilux to emphasizing staying power. The Boxcar represents the mid-point of this shift, with a top speed of 60mph and resistant to small arms and Bravo Class offensive spells. While still popular amongst private security outfits operating in Red Zones, Coalition military has mostly abandoned the Boxcar in favor of more heavily armed and armored IFVs such as the Type 30 Pillbox and Type 32 Wrecking Ball, while relegating use of the Boxcars to the Military Police.

Author's Note

So for Coalition firearms I'm just nicking Torgue weapons and giving bonus incendiary damage on top of their regular explosive damage.

I gave a few more months between the skies clearing and the start of the story, just to give a bit more time for the wasteland to adjust to the new normal.

And just pretend the corporate jingle isn't god awful.