Doom Squadron, the outlaw kings, these furry marauders on wheels are a sight that’s as terrifying as it is awe-inspiring. Bedecked in an assortment of worn army fatigues, leather, studs, and chains and gasmasks, their gear speaks volumes about their unabashed hardiness, a reflection of the rough terrain they call home. The roar of their engines echoes through the desolate canyons of the Outer, a rumbling symphony that underscores their wild freedom.
What are they? They’re the mutant jackrabbits, fast and furious, pushing their turbocharged machines to the limit, a gust of dust and raw power. They’re survivalists, their life a testament to their adaptability, their very existence a defiance of the odds stacked against them. Whether they’re barreling through the wasteland on their monstrous motorcycles and dune buggies, or keeping the peace with an intimidating show of force, the Doom Squadron is a force to be reckoned with.