"With all due respect sir, no." The musty, cool air of the dispatch office bit at my coat as I stood before the desk, shoving the consist order back across it. The stallion on the other side let loose a sigh, shaking his head slowly as he lifted a hoof to rest against it. "You know how I feel about stuff like this, and beyond that you can't honestly expect Kipper to operate down by New Appleoosa. They're so under-equipped they can't even keep a single one of their locomotives running under it's own power!"
The stallion let off another long sigh, leaning forwards before pushing himself back upright to met my eyes, a weak look on his face. "Listen, Water Case, I know more than anyone how much slavery is a sore spot for you, but I need road locomotives and engineers to run them, not just switchers with tenders. I can't afford to keep you or your engine on my payroll if you're going to refuse every single job that so much has one slaver car in the consist. There just isn't enough caps in hauling freight alone, and I've given you more chances than anyone else at this point. I just can't let it go on for much longer."
I felt myself fall back on my hooves, the frustrations having ebbed off to be replaced by fear. Off the payroll? But... I couldn't afford to keep Kipper all by myself! That locomotive is all I have in this world, without it... The dispatcher seemed to take notice, another sigh leaving his lips. "Okay, listen. There's a special goods train down south, leaving out of Maple Station in the next few days, it'll be a big bonus for the railroad since the whole thing is owned by some Saddle Arabian prince who's paying handsomely for the package onboard it. Take the mail down and come back up here with the special, and I won't have to let you go immediately." Coming back to my senses, I blunk a few times, looking at the dispatcher. He brought down another work order and two consist lists from behind him, setting them on the desk, before passing a stern glare on. "This is your last chance, Water Case. If we don't receive full payment for this, I'm out of options, and you won't be working on this railroad anymore."
Taking the sheets of paper from him and looking them over, I answered him with a nod, sliding the papers into my vest. "Understood, I won't let you down, sir." The dispatcher went back to his other papers as I made my exit, the air of the main office soon giving way to the chill and aroma of the Mare's Lake railyard, just as alive and miserable as ever. The red brick roundhouse at the far end of the yard had lines of steam drifting up out of the roof vents as Kipper simmered softly inside, Cross-Tie already on the turntable with the Cannonball, leaving only two other locos in their stables besides. The low chuffing of the partly-streamlined steamer could be heard across the yard as he finally pulled it off the table, a quiet sigh leaving my own lips. Can't fuck this one up, Casey...
Making my way over to the shed, the commotion of the yard was slightly broken over by a low buzzing noise from the inner city, myself and a few other workers stopping to look back towards the decaying concrete buildings. Wasn't sure who was the first to let off a scream, but once one pony recognized the sound as being from those thrice-damned skyraiders' buzz-bombs, well, nobody was much keen for hanging out in the open. The trot I was using to get across the yard turned into a full gallop, the alert whistle finally sounding out loud from the engine shed. Just my luck, gonna get offed by a junkie riding a bomb before I even get a chance to climb on Kipper for the last time...
A scream went up from somewhere else in the yard as I finally reached the brick walls of the roundhouse, looking up to see three of the bastards peeling out over the lake, two on the outer sides breaking off and looping back in towards the city. Well, least they aren't going for the yard again, I guess... distant massed gunfire chattered away, echoing through the concrete canyons, as well as the thrum of some non-skyraider engines. Explosions rattled the windows and scrap structures, soon followed by a loud cheer as the other vehicle appeared out of the city, making a wide turn to the east. Oh yeah, that Galloway flying thing... Honestly, sometimes I swear they let those skyraider buzzbombs reach the city just so they can have an audience when they shoot them down.
The cheering soon died off in the railyard, everypony getting back to their business as I slipped inside the long, curved structure. The smells of hot metal and burning wood filled the air in the shed, a quick hop across the tracks to the third stable finally bringing me over to Kipper. The dark green locomotive hissed quietly as I stepped over to her drive rods beneath her large water tanks, resting a hoof gently on them for a moment. This is gonna be our last chance, girl, we're gonna have to make it count...
Heading up to the cab, I hefted myself up into the heated interior, the all-too-familiar sight of the unicorn sleeping in his chair just pulling an annoyed grunt from me. For goddess' sake, Crown Sheet... Rummaging through the toolbox for a moment, I grabbed a long prybar, bringing it around in a long swing and smashing it hard against the metal floor, my oh-so-competent fireman finally jolting himself awake with a definitely dignified foalish scream. Wearing a smirk, I put the bar back into the toolbox, the unicorn beside me picking himself back up as he rubbed at his head. "Nnh, I wish you'd stop doing that, Case, I was just resting my eyes for a bit."
"You just managed to sleep through a skyraider attack, ya damn moron. Be glad I didn't strap a torpedo on the end first." The unicorn let off a weak chuckle as I stepped forth, grabbing hold of and sliding over the levers to open up the firebox doors. Peering inside, the crackling wood fire was... quite disappointingly low. Resting his eyes for a bit, my ass... "Come on, get working, we've got a job to get done. Mail train to Maple Station, then taking a special back up. Aren't gonna get anywhere if you're gonna let her fire die out."
I took to handling the rest of the startup as Crown started drawing from the locomotive wood stacks, stoking the firebox. The turntable rotated about for our stall, the hiss of the brakes releasing and clatter of the reverser setting us on course to start heading out into the yard. Tapping the main gauge a few times, I gave a nod, a short double-blast coming from our whistle as I eased us forwards. The first chuff from the cylinders and up the blast pipe prompted me to let off a light sigh, sliding the left-side window open and leaning out of the cab as we eased onto the centuries-old rotating bit of track.
We eased to a stop dead center on the table, myself looking back over at the main steam gauge, noticing the needle having dropped a bit further than it was supposed to've done. Crown Sheet was passing logs into the firebox as fast as he could manage without suffocating the flames, myself only answering with a shake of my head. This is why you don't take naps, ya dingus. He peered into the firebox for a moment before letting off a huff, looking up towards me. Just out of the corner of my eye, I saw him pull something red and log-shaped out of one of the toolboxes, pulling my gaze away from the tablemaster's signals to get a good look at what he was doing.
He froze in place, looking well more than a little guilty as he stood there with one of those fancy self-oxidized logs, probably noticing that heavily disapproving glare I was passing on to him. "You weren't planning on throwing that thing into Kipper's firebox, were you?"
"Oh, come on Casey, it's just some smashed anthracite and a few strips of cordite bundled in twine, it's not gonna hurt! It'll take longer for us to get up a good head without it." Glaring at him again, I leaned out the window to catch the tablemaster's signal, taking off the brake and easing on the throttle, more than a little concerned about just how low we were running on pressure already as we pulled out into the yard.
"And it wouldn't be like that if somepony hadn't fallen asleep, again. For the last time, Crown, you're not throwing that thing into-" The loud clatter of the firebox doors being opened got my attention off the tracks ahead, myself looking over just in time to see that daft unicorn about to shove that glorified bomb into the fire. Leaping from the chair, I bit down on the bundle of red twine and other flammables hard, wrestling it from his magic and managing to tear it open. The bitter taste of powdered coal met my tongue almost instantly, a big cloud caking my face black and stinging in my eyes. I coughed heavily, rubbing at my face with a foreleg, steadying myself on the seat beside me. Just what I fucking needed to top off the shitshow that was today, black lung disease...
The sound of cut wood levitating over to and being tossed on the firebox met my ears as I pulled myself back up into the chair, still wiping at my eyes. I just about managed to keep them open long enough to watch... something suddenly pull up onto the tracks ahead. A black-dusted forehoof quickly reached for the whistle cord, blowing a few long blasts to try and get their attention as I cut throttle and started putting on the brakes. Yeah, today's just been an all-around shitshow so far...
The half-track car-thing eventually managed to pull itself backwards off the tracks as we drew nearer it, letting me get off the brakes and start opening the throttle again. I leaned out of the window to look down into the vehicle, more than a little annoyed about the moron who nearly added vehicular slaughter onto my list. The glare turned to more surprise as I finally did manage to get a look - sweet Celestia above, and I thought my day was going bad. That poor mare looks like she's been hit by a train already! Missing an eye, more scars than I can count, and Luna knows what else she might have wrong with her... yeah, maybe I'm not really having the worst day today, after all.
Pulling ahead past the siding the mail train rested in, I brought us to an easy stop, Crown's horn alighting as he leaned out his side and threw the switch for us. The old levers and connecting rods clunked into place as I put us in full reverse, easing open the throttle and leaning out to look past the tender. Yeah, you're not really a yard locomotive, are you? Cutting throttle and swapping it for brakes, the wheels squealed only slightly as we came up to the short four-car train, feeling just a slight bump as the buffers met each other. Crown hopped down out of the cab to hook us together, myself spitting a bit more coal dust out of my mouth. Ugh, that damn unicorn and his daft fancy new logs...
Letting off a soft huff, my eyes fell to the torn-up bundle of red twine and black dust laying on the other side of the cab, lingering on it for a while. I should just throw that damn thing overboard... damnit. Dropping out of the chair, I trotted over and picked up the fancy log, opening up the toolcase it came out of. Setting it back inside carefully, I stood looking at it for just a moment, a sigh escaping me. If the damn fool just didn't put cordite or gunpowder in these things, maybe... ah, whatever, maybe we'll need a quick start-up sooner or later. I just better be the one making that call.
Bringing myself back up into my seat, Crown Sheet climbed himself back up into the cab as well, seeming to look back towards the train we had behind us. "Huh, we're pulling the southern mail? Thought we were just gonna be working yard duty again today. Guess that kinda explains why you were so pissy earlier." The unicorn tossed a few more cut logs into the firebox, shutting the doors and looking out through his windows. I just shot him a glare in response.
"Yeah, the fact you were completely asleep and letting the fire go out anyways had absolutely nothing to do with it." Putting the reverser back to forwards and opening the throttle, a large cloud of steam chuffed from the funnel as we slowly started off again, pulling out of the siding and heading out of the yard. Looking over to Crown again, I just about caught him rolling his eyes in response, keeping them more focused out the side of Kipper than on the gauges.
It's gonna be a looong trip south...