Coalition of Nations Exploration and Reintegration of the Zebrican-Equestrian Quarantine Zone

by GCU Poke It With A Stick

Rating: mature
Tags: Griffons, Violence, Crossover, Breezies, Death, Diamond Dogs, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Other, Original Character, Science Fiction
Length: 14501

Two hundred years ago, two nations burned. Ten months ago, the skies cleared. Now the Wasteland is about to be reintroduced to a world that left it behind.

"So, General Secretary Northwoods of the Coalition of Nations Supreme Secretariat..."

"Please Ms. Diamond, just Mr. Northwoods will do great."

*chuckles* "Very well 'Mr. Northwoods', what makes this mission different from from all the rest?"

"Well, the Zebrican-Equestrian war can be arguably seen as one of the most important events in shaping modern history: the CoN was formed in response to the Megaspell exchange and had to take control of the deteriorating global situation during the time period, the arms race between the two nations set off a global revolution that we're still feeling the effects of today, and close to a million people were suddenly cut off from their homes and family when the exchange occurred. And that's not even considering how the war was responsible for the Burning Century.

And for all that it's done, we still have no idea how it happened or who started it. When the skies cleared and the pegasi fanatics disappeared, we have a chance to answer those questions along with figuring out what happened since then. This mission will provide answers, and more importantly; closure to a particularly dark period of our history."

Interview excerpt taken 17 hours before Mission Launch.

Big thanks to KKat for starting a whole universe.

Categories and characters subject to change as the story moves along yadda-yadda same old song and dance.

Published 2018-06-27 02:50:06 UTC
Last updated 2020-12-31 22:10:55 UTC

The Times They Are A-Changin

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:

Provide a forum where nations can come together to work out their issues peacefully.

Creation of a organization to promote international trade and sharing resources.

Creation of an organization dedicated to researching new technologies, particularly energy generation.

Encourage global trade and the sharing of resources.

Abandoning the use of "secret treaties" for all members.

Provide a brain pool of scientists and engineers to assist in Point 3's organization.

Research into member state's defense/unification devices (examples include the Elements of Harmony and the Crystal Heart).

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

I'm On My Way To The Promised Land

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.

Welcome to the Suck

Security in Etcetera. -Coalition Intelligence Agency motto

"Look I'm just saying this would go faster if you'd try aiming the dirt a bit more." Blockade said as he finished tying up a sandbag before lugging it out of the ditch and on top of a pile of its kin. His suit had received a generous new coat of dirt that he long since gave up on trying to remove. Kilo stood back up and popped a few joints before responding.

"My paws are gloved and my goggles are so fogged up I can see more easily out my own asshole, my aiming can't get any better." He took deep breaths before getting back into a digging position. "Just open the bag up a bit more." Blockade responded by glaring while opening a new bag and getting into position behind Kilo.

"Ready?"

"Yup."

Like a coiled spring Kilo lunged into the dirt with paws gouging out huge quantities of earth and sending them flinging underneath his legs and into Hammer's waiting bag. Over the past hour Kilo and Blockade had made good progress and would supposedly meet up with another dig team coming towards them before the sun set. From their position the blurry speck that was the Boxcar was indistinguishable from the commotion of the quickly growing base.

The base itself had been placed inside a valley with a butte marking the entrance of one side and a mesa marking off the other. The remains of a road and rail line ran next to it and alongside a dried up river bed. The center of the base was a large marked off area and would (hopefully) be the entry point for Earthbreaker. MBUs belonging to the different guard units and civilian groups had congregated in their own areas before arguing over who got what supplies. On the outskirts barbed wire had been drawn around the whole base with watch towers being prepped to go up every few hundred feet while dig teams were currently digging a trench just inside the barbed wire.

"So Kilo, what do you think's actually out there?"

"Bunch of bumpkins that don't know how to speak and would worship a light bulb if they saw it turn on. You?"

"Probably all dead at this point barring the pegasi survivors. The radiation should've killed everything that wasn't vaporized when the bombs dropped."

"Wrong radiation, you're thinking of our nukes. The balefire radiation is mostly magical, so you might survive with some new limbs instead of death by super cancer. Yields were smaller too. And besides, the God's wouldn't allow everyone to just die off."

"Why not? Everyone dying to show the inherent madness of war would make for a good lesson for the viewers."

"You're looking at it all wrong. Having survivors is more marketable; more stories, characters, spinoffs, etc. It's a real gold mine if you kn-" Kilo paused his ruminations and stood stock still for a moment before moving his hind paws slightly.

"What is it?"

"...Earthbreaker. She finally made it."

Blockade attempted the same but gave up after a few moments with a shrug. "You're the dog." Just then three horn blasts sounded over the base before a voice came over the loudspeakers.

"ALL PERSONNEL CLEAR THE BREACH AREA. ALL PRIMARY AND SECONDARY GREETING TEAMS TO YOUR STATIONS. HQ ARRIVAL IN 10 MINUTES."

"Hammer had better be finished with the service by now. Hard to see how one can kneel in silent contemplation in an earthquake."

"...with profit for the Gods, with stories for the heroes, with legends for the world, and with a future for us all, thank you all for coming." With those closing remarks, the chaplain made his way to the front of the congregation for a quick meet-and-greet while the rest began making their way back to their own units. On the very edge of the group, Hammer picked up Muckraker's home and made sure it was secure by wrapping it up in his wings to make a feathery cocoon before heading to the marked off area. He glanced back when he heard Muckraker clearing her throat.

"...That was a little weird."

"What do you mean?"

"The sermon, the offerings, the deranged chanting, never saw anything like it."

"You're not of the faith?"

"Only on Hearthswarming and Good Friday. That's not going to be an issue is it?"

"Hell yeah it it will! The Gods brought us through the Burning Century and gave us our rightful place as rulers of the world. How could we not dedicate ourselves in thanks? You new age hippie shits think a simple thanks every year is enough?" He gave her a crazed look and made sure she was good and spooked before throwing his head back and guffawing.

"Nonsense! The Gods, and especially the Board, don't particularly care that they are worshiped. As long as you keep the world interesting enough for them to make money off of, you're doing fine."

"So why do you do more?"

"It's a way for me to honor their efforts and let's us know that there is some justice in this world that no one can avoid. Now come on. HQ's gonna be here any minute now." Hammer increased his pace to a quick trot as he made his way past a gathering of news teams who were fighting it out to see who would get the best shot of Earthbreaker surfacing. GNN seemed to be winning by using their camera equipment as makeshift bludgeons but Truth News had just brought out a bulldozer and was gunning it into the brawl.

Muckraker decided to make herself scarce inside her castle and wait for the whole thing to blow over. Hammer meanwhile made his way over to some NCO's in a roped off area. One in particular recognized him and waved him over.

"So, Sgt. Sweets, who do you think's gonna get the shot?" Asked Hammer.

"My money's on PBT. Their Minotaur's taking care of the dozer see?" The naga replied while gesturing towards the maelstrom. Sweet Confidence was a more standard type of naga seen in the global south with a python bottom and an earth pony mare on top. Most of her body has covered in a skin-suit with segmented plates latched on top while her head was encased in a visored helmet with "CN" marked on the forehead. The mentioned Minotaur had torn off one of the dozer's treads and was dragging the driver out before lobbing him into the air like a buckball.

"So, anything you're missing?"

*chuckles* "No spare hydraulic fluid and sonar's broke. We'll be blind in the subterrain and we'll be stuck and fucked if we hit anything tougher than sand." They both shared a small smile before turning their gazes to the fight. Espanol World Wide had brought out their football team who were doing a good job battering their adversaries into submission. PBT's Minotaur made an attempt to get in close with some rebar but nearly 2 dozen instantaneous football-strikes sent him down with a resounding *THUD*.

The press brawl was brought to a halt as the earth began shaking with EWW claiming victory and quickly setting up for the optimal shot. Muckraker poked her head out from the castle to see just what was going on. The first disturbances in the ground were four sinkholes appearing before growing larger and larger until a massive ~whoosh~ of air and a grinding of gears signaled massive drill-bits breaking the surface. The surface continued to split and shatter as the drills clawed at the sky until the whole section had turned into a churning sea of dirt. Finally, Earthbreaker herself broke the surface. Plumes of earth initially shrouded all but her drills, but soon enough she revealed herself to the whole valley. Heavy treads helped her dig herself out of the ground before folding into specialized compartments. Gun batteries and missile silos opened up while radio towers reached out into the sky. With a shuddering halt, Earthbreaker came to rest as the centerpiece of the base. She gave off two massive horn blasts that echoed off into the valley and beyond.

"So how was that for an entrance?" Inquired Hammer.

"I...never seen anything like it! Hammer, that was bloody amazing!" Muckraker had mashed her face right against the glass and even with the warped glass and dust now mucking up her view, she continued to babble on even as a section of the HQ hissed open with a ramp sliding out to rest next to one of the greeting teams.

"Your folks back home are gonna love it, they always do."

"Folks? The recording, right! Let me just make sure the angle...was...oh no...".

In her excitement, Muckraker had forgotten to record the event.

...

*tink*

...

*tink*

...

*tink*

Hammer was confused for a moment on where the noise was coming from but turning his head around revealed Muckraker ramming her head into her glass enclosure. He rolled his eyes before observing a group of generals and dignitaries descending the ramp, each trying to out-strut the other while the cameras were rolling. Following them was a gaggle of captains and lieutenants being lead by a Marshal who kept shaking keys to keep their attention, and all had been strapped to child leashes to keep them from running off. The group arrived in front of Hammer and the rest of the NCOs with one in particular catching Muckraker's attention.

He was buried under all manner of military gear with every step resulting in heavy clanks and grinds. As far as she could tell, there was a pony underneath it all. Young too. The Marshal handed over the leash to Hammer before moving on to the others, who latched it onto a caribeaner on his utility belt. Hammer stiffened up slightly and gave a sloppy salute.

"2nd Lieutenant Sherbert Shovel."

"Corporal Hammer von Eisenach." The lieutenant gave a quick grin before swinging one of his armored hooves across Hammer's withers, knocking the wind out of him, and sending Muckraker's aquarium tumbling to the ground.

"Corporal Hammer, it must have been glorious! The first among us! Exploring the last great frontier! Believe me sonny, they'll be making statues of us soon enough!" He then noticed Muckraker's container and it's occupant attempting to re-orientate herself.

"Corporal Hammer! I thought I made it very clear to not bring pets on this mission. What do you have to say for yourself, Corporal?"

"Sir that's not-"

"I put so much work into the power point too! And you ignored all of it!"

"She's a-"

"Now I'll be forced to write up a citation for you and make a longer presentation so you can get it through your thick skull this time."

"Mercy-"

"No scene transitions this time t-"

"EXCUSE ME SIR?" Came Muckraker's voice with the volume cranked up to 12.

"ACK! ACK! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" Screeched Sherbert as he yanked out his sidearm and started shooting* wildly. The heavy *BOOM* *BOOM* echoed throughout the camp, and sent anyone nearby diving for cover. Groaning, Hammer gave a quick glare to Muckraker before barreling into Sherbert and sending him to the ground.

*Blanks, thankfully.

"It's a reporter sir! There's no attack!"

"I FUCKING KNEW THESE SAVAGES WANTED US DEAD! RAISE THE ALARMS CORPORAL! KILL THEM ALL!"

"Sir please!-" Hammer managed to wrestle the gun away from the Lieutenant and was now relying on Sherbert's own heavy armor to help keep him on the ground.

"You damn traitor! I'll see to it the Marshall lops off your head in front of the whole camp!" The nearby Marshall just rolled his eyes and continued with handing out a Captain to Sweet Confidence. Sweet, along with everyone else, was glaring at Hammer before leading their officers off to ensure they wouldn't get too spooked.

At this point Hammer gave up on any attempts to calm his commander down and tried to appeal to his inner cowardice.

"Sir! We need to get to cover! Follow me, I'll get you to safety!"

"Lords of Hasbro, spare my arse! I-I'm still worth more alive!" Sherbert was now breaking down into unintelligible sobbing and had curled up into a ball. Making sure the leash was tight, Hammer began dragging the armored, blubbering mass up the ramp and into Earthbreaker, but not before picking up Muckraker's home in the process.

Nearly an hour later, a de-suited Hammer and Muckraker were making their way back to Blockade and Kilo. Hammer had been dead silent since they left HQ and the only hint to his emotions that Muckraker could see was his tail lashing out every few steps he took.

"Hammer..."

"Look I'm sorry for that- " Muckraker was interrupted by Hammer's tail deftly flipping her box over his head before catching it and wrenching off its top. Faster than she could blink, she was grappled and staring down the beak of Hammer. There was no smile, no warmth, nothing at all in his eyes but her own reflection, and when he started to speak, every instinct she had told her to run, fly, anything to get away from the predator.

"Ms. Mucker-" he hissed. "First: It's Corporal Hammer. C-O-R-P-O-R-A-L, got it? Second: Interrupt any of us again...and you'll be back in your shit-stain town before you can say 'copyright infringement'."

"I-I'm sorry, please, it won't-"

"Or I'll just shoot you. Depends on how stupid you'll be." His grip slackened and she was now free to move about, only fear had her frozen up and she just barely managed to not hit the ground before she began to make a drunken zigzag pattern back into the aquarium. Her throat had rapidly dried up and she felt numb, barely registering crashing into the gravel bottom and skidding to a stop just before the castle.

As the sun set on the base, Blockade was half-in/half-out of the vehicle's engine compartment while Kilo busied himself cleaning out his gun turret. Hammer meanwhile made his way around the front before banging on the open hood to get their attention.

"Orders from on high people. We've got a half day's drive west to a rail depot. We need to clear it and the surrounding area so the expeditions can get safely through."

"When are we heading out?"

"We're out the gate in 15 minutes. Also we've got a report on the surrounding radiation levels; they're low, surprisingly so. Low enough that we don't need the suits as long as we-" Already Hammer and Blockade were practically clawing their way out of their suits and taking massive lungfuls of air. This changed once Kilo got out and walked past the avians. Hammer snorted while Blockade gagged before they both decided to put their gas masks back on. Blockade began packing up tool kits that surrounded him while Kilo checked their belongings. Hammer secured Muckraker's home before making sure his own gear was in order.

An hour later* they were out the gates and making a beeline into the remains of sunset. They were initially joined with other units but they gradually split off into their own directions, until the Boxcar was the only proof the Coalition was even here. Hammer began fiddling with the radio, switching the dials until he finally had the station.

*High Command had gotten into an argument over who would cut the ribbon on the main gate.

"-and I'm sure we'll all be happy with the latrines now up and running. For those of you just tuning in, welcome! I'm Staff Sergent Ham and I'll be keeping us all sane in the ass end of nowhere. We'll be kicking the evening off with the Eighteen Hundred Power Hour, starting with Welcome to the Jungle from Guns N' Roses."

"So what's with Reporter? Haven't seen her pop out since we left." Inquired Blockade.

"Gave her a talk. Voice won't bother us any more. Watch the fucking road." Blockade gave Hammer a brief, questioning look, before turning his eyes ahead. Beyond the occasional wrecked vehicle and the desiccated remains of a telephone line, all they had to keep them company was the cracked strip of asphalt, stretching beyond their headlights, and on into the starry night.

Easypedia General Archives -- CNS Earthbreaker
CNS Earthbreaker is a Mantle-Class Command Subterrain and the last of her class. Commissioned in 1490, Earthbreaker served in guarding the Diamond Dog Holds of the Copper Mountains against demonic incursion attempts. The end of the Second Tartaren War in 1487 had already resulted in a steady decline in demonic incidents with only 2 incidents recorded in 22 years of service, for which she and her crew earned the Stone Anvil from Hold of Washing Silver and the Iron Crystal from the Hold of Bones. With the Third Tarteran War and subsequent Counter-Invasion of Tartarus, she was no longer seen as a necessary asset in the Coalition arsenal along with being outclassed by the newer line of smaller and faster Cavern-Class subterrains and was decommissioned in 1515 and mothballed. She has recently re-entered active service when the CNERZ-EQZ Mission could not afford a Cavern and had to settle for a cheaper option.

She is currently under-manned, under-armed, and under-supplied. She is under the command of Captain Disaster Master; an Earth Pony officer with criminal record consisting of 13 DUI's (2 pending), 9 charges of Public Indecency, Tax Evasion, Assault with an Almost-Deadly Weapon, and is barred from stepping foot in Down-unda.

Mission Command has expressed their full confidence in his abilities as captain.

Author's Note

It's been a bit hasn't it?

Sorry about that, the last few years of college have been a lot more cramped than I expected so the story sort of fell by the wayside but have no fear! I've graduated! I'm free! I got some time on my hands for once, so there should be faster progress on this story.

ANOTHER VIDEO:

Anyways, any and all criticism is always welcome!

The Nine Most Terrifying Words in the English Language

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:

They were no longer alone.

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.