((Story Extract))
"So, who's this new tank ghoul that came down here? Said it was a friend of your fathers, or something?"
A weak chuckle escaped me as I took hold of the handle, Scouring and Static joining us. "Eheh, nah, no, he just… sent along a message, to them. Actually one of Mad Jack's old friends, I think…" The heavy door swung open with a loud creak, us all filtering inside to a few cheers and sounds of excitement. I pulled the door shut behind us, before turning about and being greeted by a proud-looking stallion adorned in some rather well-maintained pre-war military khakis, as well as a burgundy beret. A smile lifted the small mustache on his muzzle, and he raised a hoof up between us.
"I do believe you must be the mare I've chatted with over the radio. Captain Poppy Gardener, 4th RTR, now serving with Cordite, pleasure to finally make your acquaintance." Taking his hoof and giving it a firm shake, he turned to look towards the usual lineup of tanks, Scouring and Crash Dive having already pressed on ahead towards them. As I looked over them… well, guess we know what made those tracks. Parked neatly between Porshcia and Avery, almost dwarfed by both if not for it's almost comically oversized turret, sat a small tank with a somewhat pointed front and a ridiculously large gun. Well, relatively large, anyways — was a far cry from Avery's dustbin mortar, but I'm pretty sure I could still fit my hoof down the barrel without getting stuck. Poppy Gardener looked between myself and Static as we trotted back over with him, still wearing that smile. "So, as Jack thought it more appropriate you be the ones to do so, might I learn your names if we're due to be going off to war together?"