I opened the door to Semaphore’s office and happily let myself in. “Hey Sem!” I called as I closed the door behind me, making the old stallion jump.
“Fire Stoker? Last I heard you and Coal Dust were stranded on the Tall Tale end of The Grade.” Semaphore replied, as he gathered himself up.
“We were.” I stated as I sat down in front of his desk. “But Ash Pan came to our rescue in #9366.”
That sure got Sem’s attention, “#9366? A HG-10 running on Tall Tale metals again? I never thought I'd see the day.”
I chuckled a little, “You and everyone else on the railway. They were gonna come save us in some 4-8-2, but the brake lines on that engine turned out to be shot. Shops back in Tall Tale were using #9366 as their main boiler, and she was actually still in decent condition, so they unchocked her wheels and let Ash have her.”
Semaphore nodded, impressed, “Really, now ain't that something.” He then smacked his hooves onto his desk, “Well, what can I do for ya?”
“Well I assumed that there would be a run waiting for me.”
“Well there was, but we rostered another crew for it. We thought you wouldn't make the rest of the trip yourself. They probably left about fifteen minutes ago if The Grade opened back up. I don't really have anything that needs a crew for a while, so just park up ol’ 66 and take a rest for a few. I'll have someone let you know if something pops up.”
I nodded as I stood up, “Alright Sem. I'll get out your hair and let you get back to work. If something does come up, I'll most likely be in the back shops.”
A puzzled expression crossed Semaphore’s face, “The back shops? Why would you be back there?”
“#9366 is in rough shape, and she deserves a good look over by her old driver. Plus, if the shops think I’m giving her back without a fight, they’re crazy.”
Sem just shook his head and laughed, “Whatever you say Stokes. Just take care of yourself.”
I laughed as I opened the office’s door, “Can do Sem, see ya.”
“Take care Stokes.”
I made my way back to 66 quickly, to make sure everything was still intact. I got back to find a 2-6-0 yard goat already disassembling our train. I waved to the loco’s engineer, who waved back, before pulling myself back into 66’s cab.
I checked the boiler pressure, to find that it had dropped, but was still high enough to move the engine alone. I reached over Ash Pan, who was still asleep, to the injector and turned it off. I then dropped my hoof and let it bounce off Ash Pan’s head.
“Huh, what, I-I wasn’t asleep on the job!” Ash shouted as he bolted upright.
I couldn’t help but laugh, earning a death glare from Ash, “Why did you let me fall asleep? The engine could have exploded!” He shouted at me.
I continued to laugh, “Cause you looked like you’d been up for a week straight. Don’t worry, I had the injector going to make sure the boiler didn’t get too hot.”
That made Ash Pan snap his gaze to the boiler gauges, “Aw come on! You made the boiler pressure drop!”
“Don’t worry about it, we just need enough pressure to get the ol’ girl over to the shops, and we have plenty of steam for that.”
Ash grumbled, “Yeah true. Just, just don’t do that in the future.”
I nodded as I cracked the regulator open, “Duly noted.”
We were able to quickly make our way over to the shops, and parked outside of general maintenance bay #2.
“Hey Stokes, you need me for anything else?” Ash Pan asked.
I thought about it for a second, “Nah, I think I should be good.”
Ash Pan yawned, “Good, I’m gonna head over to the bunks and get some rest. Later Stokes.” Ash Pan muttered through another yawn as he climbed out of #9366’s cab and made his way over to the bunk houses.
I climbed down soon after, and made my way into the shops. As I walked toward the back shops, the sounds of machines pounding away at freshly shaped and machines metal, along with the locomotives they were to be installed on, grew louder and louder.
I smiled as I opened a work door into the back, and was met by the full force of the noise. It had taken a while to get used to, but I now almost missed the noise hell that was the back shops.
I walked in and quickly turned left, making a beeline for the back left corner of the massive shop space. I had only one pony in mind to help me with #9366, and I knew she wouldn't be able to say no.
As I maneuvered my way past the torn apart carcass of one of the early 4-8-4’s, I caught sight of my target. Red tends to stand out in a place of grey and black.
“Hey Red Hot!”
The pegasus mare, one of the few pegasi that worked for the railway, turned around, with a half smile adorning her face.
Heat Temper, or Red Hot, was another pony I knew from my time in the shops, if just barely. I was finishing up my last few weeks in the back shops when she was hired on. It didn't take her long to grow accustom to back shop life, and now 9 years later, she was the mechanical manager of Vanhoover’s back shops.
Not bad for a 31 year old.
“Well look at what the timberwolves dragged in. It's been awhile since I've seen you in the back shops Stokes, how ya been?” She said as she reached out her hoof.
I happily took it in a hoof shake, “Oh you know, slinging trains over The Grade, and breaking them in the process.”
“Heh yeah, I heard about you and Coal being stuck up near the summit. Where’s he at by the way?”
“By now, hopefully in the hospital back in Tall Tale. Engine threw a shoe through the cab, and it nearly took his head off.”
“Damn. I take it that you couldn't finish the run with that engine.”
“Nope. Tall Tale sent up a replacement engine. That's actually why I came back here looking for you.”
“Oh Yeah, what engine did they give ya?”
“Sent up #9366 to save me.”
Red Hot’s eyes popped open behind her safety glasses at that, “#9366, an HG-10, back on Tall Tale metals, never thought I'd hear about that again.”
I laughed, “That's basically what Semaphore said, and trust me I wasn't expecting it either. Anyways, Tall Tale had been using ol’ 66 as their main back shop boiler, so she’s in rough shape. I was wondering if you could giver her a once over.”
Red’s eyes lit up, “I’d love to! Bring it in on bay 5, and I'll have her better than new by the end of the day.”
I was a little shocked at the fact that Red was so eager to work on 66, “Uh, ok. I'm kinda surprised you'd be this eager to work on my old engine.”
“You kidding? It’s been way too long since I've had the chance to work on one of The definitive Tall Tale Ten Wheelers.”
I smiled, “Yeah, fair point. Alright, I'll go get the old girl.”
I turned and walked away, going out the back of the shops so I could set the switches for the tracks up to bay 5. As I was making my way around the side of the shop, there was a blast of an engine’s whistle.
“Hey Stokes, that you!”
I looked over to where the whistle had come from, and saw a small 2-4-2 tank engine stopped two tracks over, leaning out of the right side of the cab, was Smoke Box.
I smiled as I walked over to the small tank engine, “Smoke Box, it’s been way too long. How’s things going?” I said as I reached out my hoof.
Smoke Box happily bumped it before replying, “Oh not to bad. It’d be better if I wasn’t stuck on yard duty, but all in all, 8.5 outta 10.”
I looked past Smoke Box to see a colt I didn’t know, trying to hide himself on the other side of the cab, not daring to make eye contact with me. I then looked back to Smoke, “So where’s Piston Rod at. Did he fake being sick just to get out of yard duty? Again.”
Smoke Box laughed, “No, no, no, Piston got put on train heading down to Hoofington because the train’s original fire-pony had to stay here in Vanhoover.”
When he finished, I looked past him and motioned to the colt on the other side of the cab, who was still trying to stay hidden, “So, who’s the colt?”
The colt seemed to be shocked that I called him out, but didn’t do anything before Smoke Box spoke up, “Oh him, he’s new. They put me with him with me so he could get the hang of firing without having to leave the yard.”
Smoke Box then looked over his shoulder at the young colt, “Go ahead kid, introduce yourself. Stokes here won't bite.”
Fire Box hesitated for a few seconds before finally mumbling, “H-Hello sir. M-My name’s Fire Box.”
I shook my head, the colt was terrified to even talk to me. He also was talking with a definite, non-Tall Tale accent, “Fire Box you say. Well Fire Box, where'd you come from?”
“I used to live in Canterlot, but I was raised in Hoofington, sir.”
“What'd you do out in Canterlot?” Things were starting to add up about this colt.
“I was a cleaner, and just started to learn how to fire. I starting working on the Celestial Pacific out there last year, sir.”
“Oh really? What brings you out here then?”
“A-After a few incidents, management said if I didn't want to show respect, I could go work with other ponies who don't show respect.”
I held a straight face for about ten seconds, before I broke down laughing. “Sweet Celestia, they screwed you up good didn’t they kid!” It took me a few moments to get myself under control, before I caught the colt’s attention again, “First off, Fire Box, my name’s not ‘Sir’. Name’s Fire Stoker, but most ponies just call me Stokey and Stokes for short. Trust me when I say this, there is no one on this railway that will make you refer to them as sir. Even the original owners would sooner force you to fire a train without a shovel before they told you to call any of them sir.”
That seemed to shock the colt, and he didn’t get much time to think before I continued, “Second, despite what those head up their ass idiots back in the capital told you, we are a very respectful bunch out here in the Smokey’s. We may not hold respect for the managers back in Canterlot, for good reasons, but when it comes to our fellow rail-runners, and the equipment we use, we are very respectful.”
I then turned back to Smoke Box, allowing Fire to think over what I had just said, “So what are you up to?”
“Oh we were just about to sling across the next few tracks to we can give this old girl over to the back shop crew. The brakes are starting to get a little weak, and the steam chest has a leak. Speaking of the back shops, what were you doing messing with the back shop switches.”
I looked over my shoulder at where I had come from, “Oh those, well I have an engine that I have to put into the shops too. I was just setting the road so I could get into bay #5.”
Smoke Box cocked an eye at me, “What engine could you possibly need to bring into the shops?”
“Well, when Ash Pan came to rescue me and Dusty from #3800, he brought along #9366. He stole her from the Tall Tale shops. She had been their main boiler for almost two years now.”
Smoke Box looked shocked, “#9366. As in HG-10 #9366?”
I smiled and nodded, “The one and only. I got her sitting out front.”
The smile that formed on Smoke Box’s face, was actually kinda creepy, “Outta my way!” He yelled as he jumped off the hoof plate of the tank engine, which I finally noticed was #2, the first engine built for the railway, and ran toward the front of the shops.
I looked back up into #2’s cab, to see Fire Box staring off in the direction of the disappearing form of Smoke, “Um, Fire Stoker, why did he do that? Also, what’s an HG-10? They taught me about almost every class of engine back in Canterlot, but I’ve never heard about HG-10’s.”
“I’m not surprised. Canterlot refuses to acknowledge the existence of HG-10’s, they’ve been trying to erase every trace of the old railway since they came into power. Anyways, HG-10’s were heavy duty freight engines built specifically for this line to handle the steep grades on the main line. They were the favorite engine of every crew on the line, but they haven’t been run in four years because the corporate big wigs in Canterlot say they’re too inefficient. Despite the fact that they ran for years under the old management without a complaint about their efficiency.”
Fire Box looked confused, “I’ve heard that the grades around here are steep, but are they really that bad that it dictates a special class of engine for them?”
“Well I’ll put it to you this way, on this side of the main line, there is a 14 mile long section of line up near the summit that has a 2.9% grade.”
Again, Fire Box looked shocked, “2.9%! That’s ridiculous! How could a railway run trains over something like that?”
I smiled as I realized the colt was coming out of the shell Canterlot had built around him, and was starting to act like, what I assumed, was his normal self. “Well we either we run shorter trains, or use HG-10’s.” I replied, with that smile still plastered to my face.
Fire Box finally started to climb out of #2’s cab, “Alright, I have to see this engine.”
The two of us walked around to the front of the shops, and I watched with a smile as Fire Box’s jaw dropped, “Holy Crap.”
“Stokes, get up here! I haven’t fired a HG-10 in years!” Smoke Box yelled from inside 66’s cab.
I looked over to Fire Box, to see him still staring at #9366, “Come-on, you can gawk at my engine after we get her back to the shop.” I said as I walked over to 66 and climbed up into the cab. I turned to see Fire still standing where I had left him, “Well come-on kid!”
That finally got Fire Box’s attention, and he ran over to 66 and flew up the ladder into her cab. With my full crew, I blew the whistle, and started us backwards.
After reversing past the set of points that lead to the back shops and flipping them, I happily drove #9366 around to the back and lined her up with the open doors of bay #5. With the precision the only comes with years of practice, I pulled 66 into the shops, and stopped right at the end of bay #5 perfectly, without even bumping the rail chocks.
“You should probably go get 2 before she destroys herself.” I said over my shoulder to Smoke Box, who was acting like it was his first time firing an engine again.
It took a second for my words to register in Smoke’s head, but finally he begrudgingly pulled himself away from 66’s controls and motioned to Fire Box, “Come on Fire, let's go get the tank.”
As those two disembarked the hoof plate to go get their engine, I worked on putting #9366 down for a nap. As I was finishing up in the cab, I heard a loud squeal of glee come from outside, “Oh Celestia even rusty she’s beautiful!”
If there was any one pony that loved the HG-10 more than I did, it was Red.
I looked out the right side of the cab and saw the second pony of the day gawking at #9366. Red Hot looked like she was about to hug the massive engine, only being put off by the fact that she would burn herself if she did.
I climbed down from the cab and walked over to her, “My old girl really that captivating to you?” I asked with a know-it-all smirk on my face.
She waved a hoof at me, “Away with you and your mockery. I haven't had the chance to lay eyes on a HG-10 in four years, so excuse me if I'm a little excited.”
I just chuckled, “It's fine Heat, I missed her just as much. Now come and help me dump the fire and blow out the boiler so she can cool down enough for you start working.”
Red Hot happily nodded, jumping up and back onto her hooves before following my over to the fire box.
By the time we had dumped out the fire and blown out the boiler (which was basically just opening a few valves so the remaining steam and water in the boiler was blown out), Smoke Box and Fire Box had returned with #2.
Red looked over at the massively dwarfed little shunter, and grinned slightly, “Oh yeah, the little old shunter that could, forgot I needed to work on that to. Not like it would take long to finish anyways.” She said before going back to giving #9366 a good look over, to see what needed immediate repair and what could wait.
The way Red said that made something click in the back of my mind, “Hey Red, speaking of little old engines, where’s #1 hiding? Or did the nobles finally find her?”
The red mare shook her head, “No they haven't found that old girl yet. She's still in her little hidey hole on the other end of the shop. Unfortunately, I've had a lot on my plate these last few months, and haven’t been able to do much for her.”
I nodded thoughtfully, “Either way, I gonna go check on her. You gonna be ok lookin after 66?”
Red laughed, “Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm just gonna get started on #9366’s repairs.”
“Oh, you already got everything figured hm? So tell me, what's the damage?”
“Well it's not too bad actually, I'd give that up to the fact that the boiler was needed to be kept in working condition. However, her pipes are old and need to be replaced. Also, a couple of the rust spots on the smoke box need to be cut out and patched. I'd really like to just replace the whole thing, but I don't have the materials to do that, so patches are just gonna have to do. Besides that, the brake system underneath the engine is a little too rusty for my liking, the Coal feed tube from the tender needs some patch work, and two of the shoes on the main drive wheels have fatigue cracks.”
I could almost hear the devilish grin her face defiantly had as she said, “And considering your latest performance, you and bad drive shoes don't mix.”
I groaned as I held my hoof up to my head, “Red, I am this close to slapping you for that comment. If it had come from anyone else, they'd be unconscious right now.”
Red Hot turned and batted her eyes at me, “Oh Stokey, you make it sound like you'd ever actually touch me. We both know that I'd win in a fight between us anyways.”
“I swear, one of these days we’re gonna put that theory to the test. But right now, I'm gonna go look over #1.”
Red walked over to me, “You go do that.” She said as she patted my head like I was a child. With a fake huff of indignance, I climbed out of #9366’s cab.
As I touched down on the shop’s main floor, I looked up to see the bemused face of Smoke Box and the once again confused face of Fire Box.
I didn't say anything as I just walked away toward the other end of the shop and #1. As I walked, I heard the distant sound of two sets of hoof steps as Fire Box and Smoke fell in behind me.
With a grin, I called over my shoulder, “Hey kid, word of advice. You're gonna loose a little sanity working on a railway, it just comes with the job. So don't try to fight it, that'll just make the descent into madness worst.”
I could tell by the howling laughs that came from Smoke not long after I went silent that the look on Fire Box’s face was priceless. That knowledge just made my grin grow bigger the longer the laughter lasted.
It didn't take us much time to cross over to the other side of the shop, to see one of the oldest 4-6-4 passenger engines still in the fleet sitting in bay #1 for a boiler re-pipe . But that wasn't the engine I was after.
I walked around the front of the dismantled engine to the wall on her left side. There was nothing interesting about this wall, the only thing that stood out being the massive hole in the top that allowed the back shop’s massive main crane to pass over it. Any time inspectors came by, we told them that the door led to a room used to repair the crane when it was acting up.
At one point, that had been true, now, not so much. I opened the door to expose nothing but a dark room, and as I trotted in, followed closely by Smoke and Fire Box, I flicked on the lights.
As the lights brought the room to life, I heard Fire Box gasp. I was starting to wonder if the colt was getting tired of all the surprises from today.
Sitting there, on a temporary set of rails, was an old, beaten, and run down engine. The boiler and four large main drive wheels were coated in rust. The single axle guide truck had been removed and was sitting off toward the side. The wood that made up the cab was rotted, and the wooden main body of the shunting plate wasn't in much better condition. Barely visible on the flaking black paint of the cab, was a faded golden number 1.
She was the first engine the railway ever owned. And while she had been bought second hoof from another railway, it didn't make her any less of a true Tall Tale engine.
“Hello old girl, nice to see you again.” I whispered to myself as I walked up and run my hoof over the rust coated boiler. I had seen engines in worse shape that this be returned to service before, but that didn't mean she wasn't in dire need of some TLC.
“What is this?” Fire Box asked as he walked up next to me, looking all over the engine.
I smiled as memories of this engine flooded my mind, “This little 2-4-0 beauty is #1, old faithful. She was the first engine to be bought for the line when it was being built, and she ran it for years afterwards.”
“This thing pulled trains up that 2.9?” Fire asked.
I heard a chuckle from behind me, “Oh Celestia no. You gotta remember this Fire, the line didn't always run over the Smokey Mountains. Originally the line just ran over the mostly flat land between Tall Tale and Hoofington. The Old Grade wasn't finished until three years after the line was opened. We tried a few times to use Old Faithful on Grade trains, but it just wasn't what she was built for. She was built for “high speeds” over the flats. And believe it or not, she wasn't half bad at keeping to the time tables.” Smoke Box explained as he walked up on the other side of the Fire Box.
I nodded as I turned to Fire, “Exactly. But that's not her entire story. See, back before this happens to her, she was part of a tradition. If you wanted to be an engineer, the first locomotive you drove and fired was good old #1. She was my first, same with Smoke Box. in fact, if you go up to any fire pony or engineer who's worked on the railway for more than four years and ask them what was their first engine, they'll all tell you it was ol’ #1 gere. Ain't that right Smoke?” Smoke Box nodded in agreement.
Once again, a confused look crossed Fire Box’s face, I swear his face was gonna freeze with that look, before he asked, “Wait, drive and fire? Why would a training engineer learn how to drive and fire a locomotive? Wouldn't you just focus on driving? That's what they did with us new hires back in Canterlot.”
I smiled a little, “Well if you haven't already guessed, Tall Tale, and Vanhoover by extension, are immersed with old traditions when it comes to the railroad. They mostly stem from the old days when engines and other parts of the railway weren't as reliable or safe as they are now. Engineers, for example, used to have to spend two years working in the shops, front or back, before they’re even allowed on a hoof plate for training. They also once had to learn to fire an engine in case anything happens to their fire pony.”
That made Fire Box flinch in surprise, “Really? That makes some sense, but seems kinda unnecessary. Especially the shop part.”
“You may think so, but put yourself in the minds of the railway owners. If you have to spend two years in the shop, it forces you to be around the engines. Clean them, work on them, tear them apart, learn how they tick. It also forces you to acknowledge the awesome might of these machines and the destructive power they have when you try to cut corners. During my five years in the shops, I saw my fair share of wrecked engines. Some just from minor derailments, others that had barrel rolled down a mountain, and even a few boiler explosions. Those were rare, much rarer than they are now, but they still happened, no pony is perfect. Even engineers who were considered the best of the best, put engines in the back shop due to one tiny mistake. Steam engines, especially on this line, require constant attention, as they can turn into deadly weapons of destruction if handled improperly. Some ponies are just not cut out for the somewhat stressful life that comes with being a hoof plate operator. You have to be absolutely sure that it's what you want to do with your life, and be prepared for anything the line might throw at you. There's a reason why us rail ponies act a little strange around each other, it's our way of handling the stress that comes with our job. You'll come to understand what I mean the longer you work on the railway.”
I almost closed my eyes as I recited that speech. Much of it had been said to me by Hot Box when I first stated that I wanted to work for the railroad. Even he had paid his dues, worked his two years in the shop before becoming an engineer. It was a warning eventually told, in one way or another, to all new rail ponies by one of the old guard. It wasn't something said to scare the new workers, well not intentionally at least, but make them understand the responsibilities that came with the live job that they were going to have to accept. They were words that nearly every Tall Tale worker lived by, and for many, they had been words that saved their lives. Sometimes on more than one occasion.
Fire Box stood there for a few moments, letting what I had said sink in, “Wow, that actually makes a lot of sense. I've never heard somepo-wait a second, did you say you sent five years in the shops?”
I nodded as I stepped away from #1, “Yep. I started in the shops when I was 15 as a greaser. Still had to do my “two years” when I turned 18, but it was well worth it. They're days that I won't forget and I'm happy I lived them.”
Before Fire Box got a chance to say anything about me starting on the railway at 15, I walked away, going around #1 and giving her a look over. ”Man, Red wasn’t kidding when she said that she didn’t get to anything while I was gone. It looks like all she was able to do was finish replacing the left cylinder.”
Just as I finished doing my round, I heard Fire Box speak up again, “Now wait, you still never answered my question. Why is this engine here? Why is she so messed up if she was such a part of railway tradition? And why is it so important that the Canterlot owners don’t know about her?”
I sighed, “Well, about four years ago, just before winter started to set in, we were in the process of training a new driver down in Tall Tale. The young colt was feeling the pressure that can come with a run, as we were putting him through a mock stopping passenger run. As he was pulling away from a stop, he forgot to open the cylinder cocks, and sure enough, blew apart the left cylinder. The boiler was damaged to, as it was getting close to needing its five year rebuild and the metal had severally weakened. Because of that, instead of putting her in the back shops for just a cylinder replacement, it was to be put in for its five year service. The only issue with that was, the railway’s managers only allowed 5 engine’s to be in the back shops for five year services at one time. Keep the shops from being completely filled with five years. At that moment in time when #1 blew, those five spaces were filled. So we put her in a siding next to the shops, and left her there in waiting for the back shops to have enough spaces for her. Unfortunately, two months later there was a nasty accident near the summit of The Old Grade, and that filled up the shops on both sides of The Grade, so #1 was put on the back burner. By the time any of the shop spaces opened up that #1 could have occupied, the new managers from Canterlot had taken over, and were making changes for the worse.”
“Wait, so the nobles in Canterlot didn’t always run the railway?” Fire Box said, interrupting me.
Thankfully, Smoke answered his question for me, “Oh dear Faust no! Have you not been listening to half of what we've been saying for the last hour? They only started controlling the railway four years ago. Before that, the railway was run by the ponies who had originally started the railway. Ditchlight, Bulkhead, and Highball ran the railway right, because they had started out as engineers and fire ponies themselves, so they understood our plight.”
I nodded, “Exactly, and when Canterlot took over it ruined everything. Even after spaces opened up, no order was given to put #1 in for repairs. In fact, multiple orders were made outright saying that she was not to be touched at all. Eventually after sitting for over two years, they ordered #1 to be sold for scrap. As you can imagine, that didn’t go over well with us old railway hooves. So when she was supposed to be put on a train heading down to Appaloosa to a scrap yard, we ‘accidentally’ put her on a train heading up to the Crystal Empire. When the train stopped her in Vanhoover to be refueled, we took her off the train and hid her here. She's been sitting here ever since, slowly being rebuilt by me, Red Hot, and a few others. If the nobles in Canterlot ever found out about her, they'd probably burn down the shops around her just to try and destroy her.”
That was the final shocker for Fire Box, “Really, Canterlot would go that far?”
Smoke Box walked up next to me and we both nodded simultaneously.
Fire Box sat down as our words sunk in. However, he didn't get much time to think before an alarm started blaring through the back shops.
“What's that?” Fire Box asked concerned.
I whipped my head around toward the door that lead back into the shops, “That's the main alarm! Someone jumped track!”
With that said, or more appropriately yelled, I ran over to the door, tore it open, then ran into the shops. That alarm was something no one liked to hear as it meant that an engine had come off the tracks. I had heard it only twice when I was working in the shops and it hadn't been a drill, but we ran that drill enough times for me to know exactly where I needed to go.
I ran into an office in the middle of the shop, to find the main emergency ponies from the shops already crammed in. I found Red Hot at the front, and rushed up to her.
“Red, what do we got?”
She looked over her shoulder at me, “We got a 175 on the ground 7 miles out of the yard. We have reports saying that it rolled on the last sharp corner before the yard.”
I noticed that the office was starting to empty, as the others ran off to the wreck recovery train. The wreck recovery train wasn’t much, as it was only to old 4-6-2’s, with two cranes, and three coaches. Two of these coaches were used to hold work teams that helped with recovery and give care to anypony who was on the train that wrecked, while the other was used as a rolling hospital.
It might not seem like much, but the cranes on the train were the secret weapon. Bertha and Big Bud, the names of the two 350 ton capacity cranes, were absolutely massive, as you can imagine if you know anything about railway cranes. Each could easily lift up 3800 on their own, and measured the length of the two 4-6-2’s combined, a piece.
When I was working in the shops, I was one of the few who were trained to to operate the two massive cranes, as they were very complex machines to operate. It was a lot easier to drive a HG-10 up The Old Grade with a 300 behind her then operate one of those cranes in my opinion. But it was fun as heck despite the complexity.
It seemed like they had everything under control, so I turned to leave, ironically just as Fire Box and Smoke were running in, when somepony pushed through the the two of them and run up to Red Hot. “Temper, we got a problem!” They yelled as they came to a stop in front of Red.
“What is it Steam Dome?” She asked, the expression on her face turning downcast.
Steam Dome, a somewhat new hire to the railway, replied with, “We have no one to operate Bertha or fire R2. Scrap Metal didn’t show up for work today.”
Red Hot groaned, “This is why I told those inspectors that we need more than just two ponies who know how to operate the cranes.” Then Red’s head popped up and she turned toward where Me, Fire, and Smoke were standing.
“Stokes, you were one of Bertha’s operators back when you worked for the shops right?”
I nodded, “Yeah, I was her secondary operator and cleaner for three years.” I could see where she was going with this.
Red Hot smiled, “Perfect, you’re coming with us.” She then pointed to Smoke and Fire Box, “You two, you’re firing. Now the four of you, get moving!”
Steam Dome nodded and shot out of the office, quickly followed by myself, Fire, Smoke, and Red.
It took no time at all to arrive at the small shed that was used to store the wreck recovery train, to find the two engines R1 and R2 fired up and ready to go. But, as I was looking Bertha over for the first time in years, I noticed that the her boiler still sat cold. Curiously, I looked back at Big Bud to see that his boiler sat much the same way, cold and unlit.
“Red, why hasn’t anyone fired up the boilers of the cranes? You know as much as I do that these things take around 20 minutes to wake up and bring to pressure.”
Red sighed, “Management, that’s why. They made a rule saying we can't fire up the cranes’ boilers until we are where we need to be.”
I shook my head and frowned, “Well that’s a load of bullshit.” I said as I walked up the ladder so I could climb into R2. But just as I grabbed the hoof rail, a thought clicked in my head. “You know what, screw them. Smoke Box, get into Bud and get his fire lit, I’m gonna fire up Bertha. Fire Box, you stay here and fire R2.” I ordered.
Smoke Box didn’t say anything, he just nodded and jumped down out of R2 and ran toward Big Bud. Fire Box however, looked stunned as he stood in the cab, “Wait, I’m firing on the main line? But I’m not certified! I’ve only been firing engines for three months. I haven't even fired anything bigger than a 2-6-0!”
I chuckled, “Damn you’ve spent three months stuck as a yard fire-pony? They have changed the rules around, we used to let people out of the yard for their first time after just over a month if they proved themselves. Don’t worry kid, you’ll be fine. You’re just firing the pusher engine, so if you mess up a little, it won’t affect much.”
With that said, I ran over to Bertha and climbed in her cab. I was greeted by a mass of different levers that all connected to the pistons that ran the different pulleys that then actually moved the massive crane. There were also a series of newer looking levers that were used to control the boiler, along with the boiler’s read out gauges.
It was a very complicated and confusing system. Not only did the crane operator have to stay focused on whatever he or she was doing so they didn't end up dropping an engine on a ground worker, but they also had to keep an eye on the boiler to make sure it was still making steam, or wasn't about to blow up. It hadn't always been this way, but cramming two ponies into the tiny cab of Bertha just so one could run the boiler was found to be kinda unpractical. While the new system put a bit more stress on the crane's operator, as they now had to pull double duty, everypony had agreed that the new system was the better of the two options.
I quickly got to work getting Bertha’s fire going so I could start building pressure. It was then R2 blew her whistle, signaling they were ready to go. Not long after, R1’s whistle blew, and there was a jerk as the train got moving, and we started our rush to the wreck.
As I finished building Bertha’s fire, I couldn't help but look over at the massive cable spools that were connected to the two main heavy hooks and that boom they were connected to.
With the cranes rated for a maximum capacity of 350 tons, you can imagine that the cables used for operating these essential components were very thick. And they were. The cables used on the main drag hooks were two inches thick, with the ones for the boom at a slightly larger three inches in diameter.
I turned back to the fire and smiled as I saw that the fire Box had roared to life, and pressure was being made. With the boiler started and working itself out I walked back over to the right side of the crane where the controls were, and watched as the pressure gauges slowly began to rise.
I looked up out the front of the crane, and watched as R1 took the final switch out of the yard, and we thundered onto the main line. I knew it wouldn't take long for us to reach the wreck. So I just opened the window next to me, and sat back to enjoy the ride.
It took us only about ten minutes to reach the site of the wreck. I was shocked to see what had happened when we came to a stop just before the corner. The locomotive, a now thoroughly destroyed 4-8-2, sat about forty feet away from the tracks down the small embankment next to the track, partly buried by part of its train. The rest of the train, which appeared to be a train of empty coal gondolas, had completely cleared the tracks and sat varying distances down the embankment.
The second the wreck recovery train came to a stop, the teams of ponies who had been riding in the two coaches burst out of them and broke into two teams. One set ran off toward the back of the train to check on the ponies that most likely were in the caboose.
The rest of the ponies ran off to the engine to check on the crew. I stayed back in Bertha and watched as everyone ran to check on the crew of the derailed train. It was then Red Hot ran up besides Bertha.
“Alright Stokes, you think you can handle this?” She asked.
I surveyed the situation again. There was nothing here that would max out either of the cranes, and the tracks looked like they were still intact. “Yeah, I think I got this under control.”
I then looked out to see the ponies that had ran off for the locomotive, were slowly walking back. One of their number were using his body to support a limping pony dressed in engineer’s denims. Two others were carrying the fire pony on their backs. My eyes widened as I recognized one of these ponies immediately.
Without saying a word to Red, I bolted out of Bertha and ran toward the group. I quickly fell in next to the limping engineer, who turned and cracked a faltering smile, “Hey Stoker. It’s been a while.”
I had to just stare for a second, “Knuckle, what are you doing here? I thought you retired two years ago?”
Knuckle tried to laugh, but instead just winced in pain, “I did. But I was in the office catching up with Spotlight, when someone came in saying that a train was short an engineer. Since I had nothing better to do, and I wanted to run The Old Grade again, I offered to take the train. So I borrowed a pair of denims, and picked up my engine and train. The shop ponies warned me that the brakes were going to be weak because they hadn't had the chance to finish working on them since the engine was only brought in this morning. So I swapped trains with somepony else, and took these gondolas.”
Hearing him mention the fact that the engine had been brought in that morning sent alarm bells ringing in my head. A 4-8-2 that was brought to the shops this morning with weak brakes. That was just too perfect to be a coincidence. “So what happened?”
He sighed, “We were coming down Nightmare, and I started applying the brakes. At first we were fine, sure the brakes were a little weak and I had to use more pressure than normal, but things were holding. Then, all of the sudden, the wheels caught grip on the rails and locked up. I went to release the brakes, but there was a loud pop, and the brakes lost all pressure. I tried a couple of times to use the main air brakes after that, but there was just no pressure in the system.”
That is a catastrophic problem, for those of you who haven't guessed that already. See, most Equestrian engines operate on an air brake system, unlike the Crystal Empire, for example, that uses a vacuum brake system. Our air brakes use high pressure air to force the brake blocks against the wheels while a vacuum system uses vacuum pressure to hold the brake blocks away from the wheels.
This means the two systems act very differently when a hole develops in the brake lines. When a hole develops in a vacuum brake system, the vacuum that holds the brakes off is lost, and the brakes are forced to apply. However when a hole develops in our air brake systems, the air escapes through that hole, and the brakes can no longer build pressure, thus they can no longer be applied.
There are pros and cons to both systems and reasons why we don't use vacuum and the Crystal Empire doesn't use air, but that's an argument that could take a week to fully explain, so I won't.
“What about the locomotive brake, and the hoof brakes?” I asked. The loco and hoof brakes were both mechanically operated, and thus would not be affected by the loss of air.
“I used the loco brake and the hoof brakes on the locomotive and tender, but they didn't do much. It felt like their brake blocks were old and worn.” Knuckle then looked past me, up the tracks, as we climbed the embankment, toward the end of the train. “Quick Stop must have realized something was wrong and pulled the emergency brake back in the caboose, I felt the back of the train jerk as if the brakes came on. Thankfully these new cabooses have their own pressure generators, as they helped at least partly apply the brakes on some of the gondolas at the back of the train, but with the hoses on the engine still gone, they couldn't build much pressure. I don't know how we got off The Grade in one piece, yet we did somehow on just old mechanical brakes and a small piece of air brake. But, once we got onto the last stretch of The Grade, my loco brakes gave out, with the hoof brakes giving up too. I don't remember how fast we were going then, but when I caught sight of this corner, we were doing about 73 mph. I knew we weren't going to make the corner, so I just told Rocking Grate to brace, and we just hung on for the ride. Engine hit the ground on her left side, and rolled maybe two times before it skidded to a stop where she is. I got thrown around pretty good and so did Rocker, but we’re just happy the boiler held out through all that abuse.” Knuckle finished as we stopped next to the medical coach.
I felt that coming off where he did was the only reason Knuckle and Rocker were able to survive. The ground outside of Vanhoover was a mix of sand and dirt, and was incredibly soft. I had heard many a horror story from Ditchlight and Highball about how much of a nightmare it had been to build tracks over that area. If Knuckle had come off anywhere else, the impact with the ground most likely would have rupture the boiler, and sent him and Rocker on a one way ticket to the railway in the sky during the ensuing explosion.
“Don't worry about it Knuckle, we’ll take care of things here. You just sit back and try to take it easy.” I said as I helped the older stallion into the coach. I then helped load in Rocking Grate, as Quick Stop was already in the coach. I didn't know Rocking Grate or Quick Stop that well myself, but I knew them well enough to know they didn't deserve to go through what they just had, neither did Knuckle.
In this period of time, another engine had arrived from Vanhoover, and after some shuffling, the coach was attached that engine, and was quickly on its way back to Vanhoover.
With the crew of the train finally out of the way, the recovery work began. I made my way back to Bertha to find Red Hot waiting for me. “Alright, here’s the plan Stokes. I'm gonna head up to the to the rear of the train with R1 and Bud, then work my way back down. I want you to stay down here and work on recovering the engine. Try and keep her in as few pieces as physically possible. Once the engine is back up, work you way up the train and we’ll meet in the middle, ok?”
I just nodded as I climbed past her, and up into Bertha’s cab. As I eased myself into the seat next to her controls, I took a deep breath. I hadn't done this in nearly five years, so I was a little nervous. I then looked over the boiler’s gauges, closed the main injector, and looked out the window. Sure enough, as I looked out at the wrecked locomotive, one of the ground crew stallions started signaling for me to rotate Bertha’s massive boom toward him.
I nodded, and turned to the rows of levers. I pulled down on two right next to each other, pushing out the four stabilization legs that keep the crane from rolling over when lifting or pulling something. Once they were fully deployed, I released those two levers, and pulled on two others, deploying the actual feet that made contact with the ground.
Once I was sure that the crane was stable, I let go of those two levers, and gently pulled on another one. With a loud rush of steam, the boom slowly started to lift off the rail car it had been sitting on. Once the boom had completely cleared the holder it sat in while in transportation, I released the lever controlling the boom, and reached forward slightly and pulled on yet another one. With another loud hiss, and the creak of gears, the massive crane slowly rotated to the right.
I watched as my director on the ground guided me as we got the boom into position, crossing his hooves over his head when it reached the point he wanted it at. I let go of the cab lever, and watched as he started to make a circle motion with his right hoof, telling me to let out the line on the main hook.
I grabbed the lever for the main hook, and pulled, slowly letting the main line spool out and lower the hook toward the ground. Once the hook had gotten close enough, two massive earth ponies grabbed onto it and started pulling it toward the rolled engine, as I continued to feed out line.
They were doing this to make sure the line stayed taught, and didn’t get wrapped around the spool wrong or caught in its gears.
I continued to watch my director and the two earth ponies as the main line went further and further out toward the destroyed engine. When it had gotten to the point of nearly touching the boiler, my director held his hoof straight, signalling me to stop.
With the main line and hook right where they wanted it, the other ponies around the engine began to wrap cloth covered chains around the engine. These were what the main line hooked to, connecting it to the engine. The cloth was there to prevent the chains from digging into the engine as much as possible.
Five minutes later, with the cloth chains wrapped around the rolled engine, ratcheted tight, and hooked to the main line’s twin hook, my director signaled me to start pulling the engine back up to the track.
This was the delicate part, as everything now relied on me. The director was now just there to make sure I didn’t crush anyone with the engine. But every decision that was made on how the engine was pulled up, was now up to me.
I glanced over my shoulder at the boiler gauges, adjusted the injector, poured a little more coal in, and then set my sights on the task at hoof. I took a deep breath before grabbing the main line’s lever again, and slowly pushing it in the opposite direction.
With a creak and groan from the cable and the engine below, the main line began to drag the destroyed metal shell up the embankment and toward the track.
Now, even though the engine was nowhere near heavy enough to make out Bertha, 195 tons is still a lot of weight. But as I slowly rewound the main line back into Bertha, my years of training came flooding back, as I was able to react to every movement and sound the engine made.
After about 10 minutes, I had the engine back up to the top of the embankment. While easing off on the lever for the main line, I pushed the lever for the boom down, raising it up and lifting the mangled engine into the air. With the confidence and precision that had been drilled into me all those years ago, I sat the engine down on the tracks perfectly on the first try.
With the hardest obstacle on back on solid rails, the clean up could really get moving.
It took nearly two hours to pull all of the gondolas back onto the track. Thankfully, most of them were in decent shape, and were able to be set on the rails and pulled back to Vanhoover normally. The rest, and the train’s locomotive, were shuttled back on flat cars, as they either were missing wheels, incapable of rolling, or in the case of the engine, were twisted and could not sit on the track straight.
But finally, at around 4:45 in the evening, we rolled back into Vanhoover, with the line cleared once again and ready for traffic once more.
I sat in Bertha, half asleep as the wreck recover train came to a stop in the same siding it had been in that morning. I had already dumped Bertha’s fire, so I just climbed out, and walked back to R2 where Smoke and Fire Box were laying the old engine down for a nap.
Smoke saw me walk up and smiled, “I could go for a cider after a day like that.”
I nodded and chuckled, “You and me both. First round is on me.”
That got Smoke’s attention, never being the one to turn down a free cider, and he jumped down out of R2 cab before calling back to Fire Box, “Come on kid! Drinks are on us!”
The colt smiled and climb out of the cab of R2 and joined us on the ground. We began to walk toward town, when we were stopped by Semaphore.
“Hey guys, I know you're probably tired, but I really need you to do me a favor. That crew of that wrecked 4-8-2 was supposed to take a train up to the Crystal Empire. But since they're in the hospital, I need somepony to run it. I was wondering if you could take it and save me the hassle of doing a shit ton of paperwork to have a crew switch trains.”
I thought about this for a second. After the day I had just been through, I wanted nothing more than to go into town, have a cider, and get some sleep. But considering I was still technically scheduled to work shit shift, I felt it was my responsibility to take the train.
“Alright Sem we’ll do it.”
Semaphore visibly relaxed when I said that, “Oh thank Celestia. I really owe you for this one Stokes. The train’s on track 7, and thanks again.” With that, Sem turned and started his walk back to his office.
I turned and looked at Smoke Box, “Well, I guess we’ll just have to change that cider to crystal water.”
Smoke laughed, and then Fire Box spoke up, “Wait, so we’re going all the way to the Crystal Empire? After all the work that we did today?”
I nodded, “Sure are.”
The young colt groaned, “But I was hoping to get some sleep finally.”
“Well if I may quote an old song written by a railway pony, ‘there ain't no rest for the weary’.” I said with a chuckle as the colt groaned again.
Then I saw Smoke Box crack a worrying grin, “Oh and guess what kid.”
Fire Box looked over to Smoke before flinching at the glare on Smoke Box’s face, “What?”
“You're firing the whole way.”
I really wish I had a camera at that moment, because the look that crosses Fire Box’s face was worth every bit in the world.