Fallout: Equestria - Hellbound Express

by TimberLine

Ch 1 In Bound

“Sleep? Pussy? Drink?” Overdrive thought to himself, As he packed some Ursa Major wintergreen long cut into his right cheek. They all sounded good to him. But fatigue was pushing at the back of his eyes and it had been a long day. He snapped the can of chewing tobacco shut and putting it back into his saddle. His day was going on eighteen hours and they were just now getting into New Appleloosa.

Their little detour to drop off one of Red Eyes Stable Infiltration teams, Team 4, at the base of the Canterlot Ruins had taken more time then it should have. The Canterlot line was long worn. Years of pink cloud had warped and softened the steel track. Overdrive brought the train as far as he dared up the mountainside before the rail started folding under the engine’s weight. At that point, it was up to the infiltration team to hike the rest of the way into the city. Then came the arduous task of backing the quarter mile long consist back down the mountain and back on the main line.

The rain had suppressed the pink cloud enough that it was almost survivable to go into the city. Still, that was a grim fate. He would be surprised if he ever saw those ponies again.

It was just there luck that once the heavy-armed, shoot first ask question later, team of killers had disembarked the train was when Hellbound Expressed had gotten attacked. And of course, it was while going through the raider den of Ponyville. Even with the station on the outskirts of town, those fucking bastards had layed in wait to ambush them. And no matter how many they killed, more seem to attack with each pass through town. This time, a few even managed to get on to the train. They were quickly shot down or just fell off, but never the less, they couldn’t let it happen again.

They did lose three of the six FNG's. Ponies fresh on the train with no experience or slaves that have earned freedom from The Farm. Overdrive was not surprised. FNG's from Fillydelphia never seemed to last long for some reason, whether it be by attack or accident. They would last maybe a few trips at best. Hellbound Express was a dangerous living, it was like the engine itself came up with new ways to help ponies leave this world. Except for the full-time crew. But none of them were from Fillydelphia. Strange, the engineer thought. Shrugging off the notion and getting back to the priority at hoof.

“Pussy, yeah, pussy first, drink second, then sleep.” A smile crossed his muzzle at the thought. Sitting at the engineer’s controls on the right side of the cab of Engine 3133. He spat a stream of thick, dark brown saliva out the window and rested his right foreleg on the window sill, enjoying the cool night air that flowed into the cabin and helped offset the heat of the boiler. Face covered in sweat and soot, he looked out into the darkness. Black shadows of rocks and long dead bushes just barely appeared through the fog and mist that rolled past him as the train made the final few miles into town.

Overdrive was a tan, sand-colored earth pony, with a short cropped dark brown mane and tail, and deep green eyes. He wore a ball cap that had the logo of the Equestrian Transcontinental Railroad on it. A large shield with a small “E” on the lower left, a large “T” right in the middle of a shield, and a small “C” in the lower right. He wore a combination battle/utility saddle. On his right side was a 7mm long rifle. On his left were tool pockets and an oil can. It’s never wise to be unarmed in the wasteland. And he was a pretty good crack shot at picking targets off at five hundred yards from a moving train. The rare moments when he took the saddle off you would have been able to see a X shaped railroad crossing sign on his flank.

“Well fuck.” He said with a strain as he stretched his back, being rewarded with a few pops. “Agh” he grumbled while he prepared himself to get back to work and bring this few thousand tons of steel to a stop. He looked over to his left at his fireman, Whistles.

Whistles was a white unicorn with a long, striped, black and yellow mane and a steam whistle for a cutie mark. The unicorn had dozed off in his chair leaning against the left side cab window. His utility saddle laying on the floor behind his seat. It was loaded with a small assortment of tools, an oil can, and a semi-auto combat shotgun.

Overdrive always nagged at him to get a rifle, or something for long-range shots. But Whistles always said that was what the tri-barrel energy cannon on the tender was for, and if raiders got in the cab, they would be too close for him to use his long rifle. Whistles shotgun was better for close quarters, and Overdrive found it hard to disagree with that point. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how one looked at it, they had never been able to put that to the test, seeing as nobody had ever made it into the cab before.

Overdrive looked over at the sleeping unicorn and pulled out a 10mm socket from his saddle. Pausing for a second, he decided it would be better to switch to a 5/8 wrench. Had more heft to it, and 10mm sockets were always hard to find.

With a flick of the wrist, the wrench flew across the cab and hit Whistles right in the neck!

“Fuck!” Whistles yelled, “What the hell man.” He began rubbing the side of his neck with a hoof.

“Wake up! We’re coming into New Appleloosa. And you should be paying attention to the water level.” Overdrive said.

Whistles horn light up with a yellow glow of magic as he levitated the wrench into his own saddle then looked up at the sight glass. The water level in the glass indicating they still had about a third of a tank left. “Hey man, it's just under half. We wouldn’t have boiled off that much since the last time I checked it.” He said in that slow, easy, monotone voice.

“And the tri chocks?” Overdrive said with annoyance. Whistles laid his ears back flat then rolled his eyes as the upper tri chock valve was opened, blowing steam into the catch pan. Opening the middle tri chock unleashed a mixture of steam and water, while the lower tri chock blew out hot water into the catch pan when it too was opened.

Whistles glared back at Overdrive but said nothing as he went back to leaning on the window frame and staring out into the wet darkness.

“You know what happens if you get dirt or sediment stuck in that gauge and it gives you a false reading?” Overdrive warned. “You boil off all your water. You could permanently damage the engine, or worse, blow our ass up if steam pressure builds too high.”

“Relax bro, the boiler is 8” thick. An anti-machine rifle couldn’t penetrate that. You worry too much.” Annoyed, Overdrive knew he was right about the sides of the boiler. But the firebox was the weak link. If there was a rupture, it would dump all that pressure into the cab. Luckily, that would take about 600 PSI, almost double their normal working range.

Overdrive looked back at the wall of gauges, valves, and levers. The front wall of the cab had two rectangular windows that looked forward down the catwalk alongside the massive boiler. The engine’s huge firebox protruded into the cab, looking like a large upside-down U that went from the floor and almost up to the ceiling with a bright firelight beaming out between the opening on the firebox door. Pipes and hoses snaked their way all along the top and down the sides of the boiler. Right within Overdrives reach, half a dozen levers gave him total control of the train’s movements. Engine brake, train brake, speed control, sanding knob, bell knob, and throttle.

What was not part of the original engine was an advanced defense model Eyes Forward Sparkle, originally used by the Equestrian Army in their tanks and Armored Pony Carriers. But unlike pipbuck EFS that only worked with the pony who was wearing the pipbuck, this allowed any pony in the cab EFS to see if there were any surrounding threats.

This multi pony defense system also came with a two-way broadcaster that would communicate with the rest of the train, and his favorite, a radio. He loved listening to Radio 52 or the smooth voice of Mr. Newhaggus when they were in range. But that had been a while ago. Since they started this dedicated run from Fillydelphia to Old Appleloosa, it has only been able to pick up DJ Pony and his 12 songs. And DJ Pony did not have a favorable opinion of them.

Checking his gauges, the boiler pressure was sitting around 255 psi. A bit high for his liking being they were slowing down, and more than likely everything was going to start being shut down for the night. He reached out a hoof and dropped back on the speed control about two notches and pulled back on the throttle. He then began to pull back on the engine brake lever.

Driving a steam locomotive was just as much of an art as it was a skill. Overdrive felt the slack take up in the cars and start pushing against the engine. Watching his pipe pressure gauge, he slowly started pulling back on the brass train brake lever. Adding a little bit of sand to the rails with a few quick bursts of the sanding lever, he felt the engine shutter a little as the wheels gained a better grip on the tracks, causing the whole consist too began to slow. Checking the speedometer, he saw that it had dropped from 40 to 32mph.

Grabbing the whistle, he let 3133 scream out one long, deep-toned whistle. Sticking his head out the window, the cool night air chilling the beads of sweat on his forehead, he got a better look down the tracks and saw the lights of the New Appleloosa train yard.

Pulling the speed control all the way back into the second notch he started applying just a touch more train brake. He watched as the speedometer crawled its way to 20 mph. Unfortunately, he also watched as the boiler pressure rose to 275psi. 350psi was where the red line started, with the gauge topping out at 400psi.

“Hey, kill the talismans and let them start cooling off.” Overdrive said to Whistles over his shoulder. After he didn’t get a response he looked over and saw that Whistles had dozed off again. Biting his lip in anger he got down off his seat and apple bucked the unicorn hard in the side, slamming him up against the side of the cab.

“AGH!!” whistles howled in pain!!

“You lazy mother fucker!! We are pulling into the damn station!! Shut those fucking talismans down NOW!!” Overdrive yelled. The day had already been too long, he didn’t need any more of this shit.

“Alright!!” Whistles snapped back. “Its just been a long day ya know.”

“Shut up, it’s not like you ever left that spot. You never even fire a shot while going through Ponyville. So shut the fuck up and do your job!” Overdrive retorted.

“Goddess man, when was the last time you got laid. You’re cranky. You need to lay some pipe. You know. Play eight horseshoes. Calms any pony right down. Makes you feel good.” Whistles said as his tone and mannerisms went back to there normal slow, soft, easy going patterns.

Overdrive sat back in his taped up engineer’s chair, pressing on the steam dump valve. An eruption of steam blasted out from either side of the engine, tapering off just as the engine was starting to pull through the gate.

Overdrive watched the pressure gauge fall to 211 psi, wondering to himself “When was the last that time I’d gotten laid. Two, maybe three days ago? Humm… been too long.”

It had been three days. That new mare in warehousing. She had been a recently promoted slave. Goddess, what was her name? She was pretty good. She had even gotten a bath recently, having been promoted and all. Clipboard! That’s is. That was her name. Nice girl he thought as he rolled past the main gate.

He didn’t mind New Appleloosa, his only problem with it was its lack of a brothel! But the fact that Candy lived here more than made up for that. He had a fancy for her. Not enough to make him settle down, but he cared more about her than other mares he had gone to bed with. She was none too pleased with him right now though. Not after Half-Cocked had run his mouth about other mares he had been seeing. Overdrive almost knocked his front teeth out for that cock block.

Whistles had climbed down from his fireman’s chair trying to look through the slots in the firebox door. Magic glowed around his horn as he tried to manipulate the talismans. Grumbling to himself Whistles swung the firebox doors open.

Whoosh!! A column of flame shot out of the firebox, crawling up the head of the boiler and rolling across the ceiling of the cab. Extinguishing itself before doing any real damage.

“Holy goddesses!” Whistles yelped as he was knocked back onto his flanks. Smoke whiffing off his white hide which was now more a soot black color.

Overdrive just sighed, rolled his eyes and turned to look back out the window.

Standing in the rainy mist was a grey stallion that just seemed to plant his tail in the mud. Overdrive thought it odd that Railright would be out and about this time of night and in these less than ideal conditions.

Whistles had gotten back on his hooves and made a second attempt at the firebox. Slowly, the burning inferno started to die down until it was just a faint glow.

Overdrive leaned out the cab and could see he was closing in on the south gate. Pulling the speed control back to the 0 notch, closing the throttle and releasing the train break, he let the consist coast the last few hundred yards into the town. Once he was a railcars length from the gate, moving at around 3 mph, he set full engine brake and brought the train to a stop. Smashing steel knuckles chimed in session between the cars as the train slacked up then relaxed again. Applying the train brake, a sensation of sweet relief and fatigue washed over him as he took a deep breath and relaxed into his chair. His job was done. He had brought the train and its pony crew into New Appleloosa.

A ribbon of smoke rose up from a burning cherry, slowly turning paper and tobacco into ash as it crept up the cigarette. A small grey earth pony mare, wearing a tattered purple bandana over her cream-colored mane. Large round glasses that magnified her eyes, she sat at a recovered steel office table.

An old fluorescent light hung on a chain from the ceiling, casting a yellow light throughout the shipping container. The dirty plywood floor and corrugated steel walls were offset by pre-war works of art gathered from around the wasteland that decorated her office. Sitting toward the rear of the container, a spiral staircase lead to a second container above this one. Toward the front of the lower container was a secure storage area. Talismans, chems, and artifacts were stored under lock and key behind a chain link gate.

Shadows rocked back and forth across the walls as the lights swayed to the movement of the train. The small mare took drags off the cigarette and watching the smoke float up and curl around the light fixtures.

Papers listing the large variety of inventory layed out in front of her. The open cabinets above the desk loaded with binders. The spines reading "payroll", "operational costs", "inventory price analyzes" and other mundane ledgers. Rows and rows, pages and pages, books upon books of numbers.

Porter loved numbers. They never lied, always predictable and to the point. She knew how to work them, balance them, play with them, and most of all, Make them grow.

Her small size and large glasses made her unassuming to most. But the wasteland had made her tough. Growing up in the casinos of Dice made her smart. She could move money, juggle books, tweak inventories. Find which department was skimming from the bottom line. For her it was easy. Just follow the money... and the inconsistencies.

But Dice was many years behind her. Officially, she was Hellbound Express’s conductor. The trains #2. Unofficially, she pretty much did a little bit of everything. Where Overdrive and Whistles managed the engine, IV took care of medical, Half-cocked ran security, and Gandy Dancer maintenance. She was the catch-all for everything else. Inventory, accounting, and handling the mercenary and bounty contacts. But also cooking, bartending, card dealing, seeing to the FNG’s and to guests. Those who bought tickets that is. Those riding against their will were kept in the cattle cars. The Slavers tended to them.

Porter felt a cold indifference looking over the projected inventory they will soon be picking up and delivering from New and Old Appleloosa.

Normal drop-offs include guns and ammo, medical supplies, raw materials, and food-stuff. They would also be picking up 458t of scrap iron, 25 crates of barding, and 30 kegs of Apple Whiskey as part of their stop.

Each town was pretty much the same, mostly specialized in one thing. So the proprietor of each towns general store sold off what they could of what the town manufactured and would then buy up all the goods that the town needed.

For a lot of settlements, this train was their lifeblood. At least it had been when they were traveling all of Equestria. But for the last 6 months, they had been dedicated to Red Eye, running from Fillydelphia to Old Appleloosa. That was when the train wasn’t in the shop. Porter assumed those towns that had relied on this train for their supplies were now being supplied by trading caravans nowadays or had just dried up and died off.

She had reached the last line on the manifest thinking over the fates of those abandoned towns. 659 head of slave stock. Slavers from all around the countryside would gather up ponies by raiding settlements, hijacking caravans, or simply by picking up ponies out wandering the waste. They would then drag them to slaver towns like Old Appleloosa, Paradise, or Yellow River. The big name slavers, like Red Eye, would send out there goons to pay the "independent" slavers to see that the slaves were shipped back to their base. In Red Eyes case, the Fillydelphia Fun Farm.

Porter never saw herself as a slaver. She was not out there picking them up. If she saw a pony out wandering the waste, she would pick them up and take them to where they wanted to go, for a price of course.

She just kept inventory as they came on and off the train. But slaves weren't even that profitable for them. They didn't buy and sell. Only transported. Not compared to things like water talismans and magical, pre-war artifacts. But to her, they were so rare it wasn't worth chasing. It had become somewhat of an obsession for Coal.

A prickling sensation ran up her spine as she thought about Coal.

She narrowed her eyes at the bottom ledger and decided it was time to go talk to the stallion.

Getting out of the chair and back on all fours she checked her pip buck. It was 10:36 they couldn't be more than 20 minutes outside New Appleloosa.

She turned and walked up the spiral staircase to the upper container of car number six. The first of four double stack well container cars that made up their rolling warehouse, informatory, and maintenance shop. Trotting through the center aisle of the upper car six just fueled her anger.

Upper car six was the armory. Normally full of all kinds of firearms and ammunition. Now, dim fluorescent lights lit up mostly empty shelves and low caliber rusted arms that weren’t worth the space they took up in the arms racks.

Reaching the front of the container, she pushed open the door and stepped out onto a catwalk that almost bridged the two cars. Knocks and pops of a moving train pounded at her ears while wind whipped her mane into her face and her glasses began to accumulate droplets of water as she trotted over the narrow gap in the catwalk that separated the two cars. Looking down, she could be the railcars knuckles backdropped by two rails and rushing ties beneath her.

Stepping on the catwalk of car five, she opened the door and stepped into the first of four actual passenger cars, the dining car. After this came the two sleeper cars and then the administration car. All four cars were double-decker superliner types, build by the Draft and Pullman Company during the height of the industrial revolution.

The noise of the train abruptly cut off as the sliding door closed behind her. The sudden change in temperature causing her glasses to instantly fog up. Sitting down on her rump, she pulled them off and wiped the water off on her matted coat.

Being able to see again, she took in the full view of the dining car.

The car was one open room from front to back. It had a pool table, dart board, corn hole board, and shoe toss for entertainment. A few booth tables, bar top tables, and a poker/blackjack table. The bar was half the length of the car mounted against the center of the right wall. A stairwell at the front of the bar lead down into the kitchen and food storage.

At the back end of the bar was the pony shaped imprint stamped in the wall that had been filled in with graffiti, mostly consisting of ponies names, dates, and theories to how the imprint had gotten there.

The flooring was old worn carpet, scattered with occasional holes showing the plywood floor underneath. Worn wood paneling walls and a boring dull green ceiling reminded Porter of her old casino days. Every inch of wall that didn’t house a dirty window was covered with train memorabilia. Framed black and white pictures of old steam engines sat next to images of more modern spark generator locomotives pulling heavy freight over mountain passes. Railroad crossing signs, signal lights, and logos of long-lost rail companies. The Baltimare Southern, the Norcolt Central, Four Stars Transit, and the Ministry of War Time Technology just to name a few. Of course, centered on the wall behind the bar was the large shield of the Equestrian TransContinental, with Friendship Express on a rocker under the shield.

Once the largest railroad company on the continent, they had more track mileage, rolling stock, and engine power than any other company. Boasting the fastest times from coast to coast. The Friendship Express being the pride of the line. A celebrity in itself. If you were traveling, you wanted to ride on the Friendship Express. Since they were the only still functional trans-continental train the ETC must have done something right.

Five ponies were occupying the car at the moment. Two of the FNG’s, one earth pony and one unicorn were sitting alone at a table, staring into a bottle of sparkle cola. They looked battered and bruised from the incursion earlier that day.

A red pegasus with an orange mane was hoof locked with an fluorescent pink earth pony with a dark purple mane and tail, both seeing who could pin the others hoof over first. There was a lot of grunting and mumbles of curses coming from that corner of the car.

Behind the bar was a beautiful unicorn with a peach coat and sky blue mane mixing herself a drink. Tall, lean, and well kept, Porter stared for a heartbeat.

“Care for a drink dear?” IV said in a soft, aristocratic accent of the Society.

Pausing for a moment. “Sure, whiskey. Have you seen Coal? We need to have words.” Porter responded with a slight edge to her voice.

IV lifted one eyebrow and twitched an ear. “I believe he has been in his study for most of the day,” she said as she poured out a shot and set the bottle of wild pegasus on the bar.

Porter huffed, through back the shot of courage, and trotted on through the car.

“Och, ye think ye git me thare, son? ” the pink pony grunted with a think accent pulling his hoof hard against the pegasus.

“Your getting weak you old buck.” The pegasus slowly brought the pink hoof closer to the table top.
Porter just watched as she trotted by. “Gandy, you are going to break something.”

“Don't be such a crabbit and be selling me short just yet.” Gandy Dancer shifted his fetlock, and with one powerful grunt made almost a full half circle, bringing Half Cocks hoof just an inch off the table.

Half cocks eyes bulged and his muscles strained as he fought back.

“Nope, nooope, nooo. Fuck youuu!” he grunted knowing he about to go into muscle failure.

A jolt ran through the train car as the consist began to slow its speed. The sudden shaking caught Gandy Dancers for a split second, causing him to lose his focus and giving Half Cocked the break he needed. Half Cocked brought Gandys hoof in a full half circle and pinned it against the table top.

“Fuck yeah, I win!!” Half Cocked said, jumping off his seat and hovering about a foot off the floor, shaking both hooves in the air in victory.

“Oh, you cheating little bastard. Fuck yur arse! ” Gandy shouted in a fit of rage diving over the table and tackling the pegasus out of the air and pinning him to the flood.

Porter looked at IV who watched the brawl with minimal interest. They traded glances and Porter turned and headed out the front of the dining car into the sleeper car. Walking down the narrow aisle on the right hoof side of the sleeper car she passed staterooms for passengers. Porter felt the anger she had for Coal come back, knowing they hadn't had a fare-paying passenger in quite some time. Red Eyes goons don't pay a fare since he thought he owned the train.

By the time she got through both sleeper cars and into the administration car, she was practily galloping. Stomping every hoof.

The upper story of the admin car had a conference room, the train superintendent's office, and the crews personal armory. The lower had Coals personal quarters.

She slid the door to the office open and invited herself in. Sitting behind a desk at the other side of the office was just the pony she needed to see.

The office was well kept, nice carpet, clean wood paneling walls, with soft white lights hung from the ceiling to illuminate the room. Pictures hung on the walls, not of trains, but of pre-war Equestria. The first one She saw was a newspaper clipping on a new, coal-fired power plant promising to fuel an industrial revolution. Another clipping had a picture of an orange mare wearing a black Stetson, leaning over a coffin. Another, a picture of a rainbow colored pegasus in power armor, flying lead in front of a squadron of pegasi. The final picture was of a scared white unicorn with a golden mane and tail sitting next to a smiling yellow pegasus with a small white bunny at her hooves. In one corner of the room there was a small display cabinet filled with different types of gems and rocks. The only train picture in the entire room was of the original Friendship express. A yellow earth pony was pictured wearing a striped engineers hat and a red handkerchief, leaning out of a 4-4-0 engine while a light blue earth pony stallion with a Fu Manchu, wearing a conductor hat and uniform, stood on a platform looking at his stopwatch.

On the wall behind Coal was a very large picture frame. Under the glass was yellowed parchment drawn with a map of the entire country of Equestria and bordering neighbors. Red lines snaked there way across the map, marking the tracks that had grown to cover the nation during the great war.

But none of this mattered as she walked up to the desk and took a seat on one of pillows.

The massive all black stallion sitting on the other side of the large dark monogamy desk eyed her cooley. His ears laid back as his black eyes narrowed, staring down at the mare less than half his size.

“Why don't you come in and have a seat,” Coal said sarcastically in a dry, incredibly deep tone.

Porter pulled a few papers out of her saddlebags and tossed them on his desk. Both ponies looked down at the ledgers, seeing that they had more red ink than black. Porter paused, debating the best way to start this conversation.

“Three months. A full quarter. We have not turned a profit in three months. Haven't made our quota in four.” She paused, watching him glance over the papers and back at her. His face still unreadable. “This train is too big to be sustained by one dedicated line. We drained the resources of this region in 3 months, now it's not even producing enough to fill half this train.”

She paused, waiting for Coal to respond. When he didn't, she continued “If we don't make this ridiculous quota.” Porter pointed her right hoof at one of the pages infront of her. “We won't be able to even make payroll. Let alone keep maintenance on this outdated rust bucket.”

The big stallion’s eyes grew hard at the insult to his train. “We get free maintenance from Red Eye in exchange for delivering the resources he needs .”

“Bull shit!” She snapped harder then she intended to. Calming herself, she made sure her next words were even before she continued. “Red Eye has only given us second-hand parts salvaged from the most dilapidated of equipment. Or worse, parts made by Solaris. Just enough to keep us limping. After each run 3133 spends two weeks in the shop. There are no good parts left in the Applejack Rail Complex. The coach yard, maintenance yard, and switchyard, they have all been picked clean! We can't keep doing this!” Porter saying those last words through gritted teeth.

Coal felt a flicker of anger inside him. These arguments were becoming more frequent. Picking up a glass of Velvet Bridal, he took a drink of the fine whiskey. “There are things in the works bigger than you”

“STOP IT!!” she screamed, “you can't keep hiding behind that! Every time!” she was practically shaking.

Coal came around the desk “Red Eye has what we need. He has resources we could use. Not to mention a growing army and those fucking alicorn freaks”

“Then we run! We have a train! Equestria is a big country! There are plenty of other towns we could survive. Go talk to the White Apple’s, or head north to the Crystal Empire. At this point, I would settle for going to Hoofington and talking to Big..”

“NO,” he cut her off sharply “Do not finish that sentence. Would you rather deal with the casino bosses of Dice?”

Porter looked away.

“There is nowhere we can go they can’t find us. He will send team after team of Talons until this train is either brought back or scraped in a ditch. Either way, all of us will be a corpse. Not to mention Steel Rangers. They would love nothing more than to cut this train open like a can and pick it clean.”

“So you are scared! Is that it!

Getting pissed, Coal leaned down and got right in her face. “Enough! Don't you ever insinuate I’m a coward! No pony tells me what to do. That is your only warning!” he said before getting back up and turning his back to her.

“Well, what about Shattered Hoof Prison. It's not that far! Seems a lot of ex-slaves have built up a camp there, and they are paying top caps for as many gems as they can get.”

Turning to face her again he said “They are still just outside Red Eye's territory.”

“We can do it off the books!” Porter refuted desperately trying to get him to see reason.

“Shattered Hoof is nothing more than a glorified raider camp!” Coal said anger building in his voice. About at the end of his patients

“Dodge City is not even a half days ride from Appleloosa. I hear they are starting to grow cherries again.” she was now pleading in desperation.

“Porter! That section of track has been taken over by the Everfree and Red Eye doesn't want to send slaves to clear the track. He has us by the balls!”

“So you are just going to keep being Red Eye’s bitch!” she snapped

The anger erupted inside Coal. In the blink of an eye he had Porter by the throat and up against the wall. Her hind hooves dangling above the floor, desperately kicking in an attempt to regain a footing. Her forelegs wrapped around Coals massive foreleg. She could feel his muscles tighten under his hide.

But despite all this, it wasn’t fear that crept into her eyes, but loathing and anger.

“I am nobody's bitch.” Coal almost whispered in her ear.

Fighting for air, she barely managed to retort.

“Then prove it.”

The moment was cut by a blasting train horn.

Coals ears perked up and he let Porter drop to the floor. He stared down at her as she lay coughing on the floor, “Now go see to this town's abomination.”

Watching Porter get up and walk out of his office, Coal walked back behind his desk, picking up the glass of whiskey and finishing in one swig. He sat the glass back down hard upside down on the desk. Turning, he stared at the map of Equestria. All that track. How much of it was even still useable. They can't just run. He had to play his cards smart. He couldn’t afford to let Red Eye or any other pony get there hooves on this train. This train held too many secrets.

“Yi''ll need tae go easier on her. Ye keep pushing ‘er this ‘ard yer gonna burn up th' bearings 'n' throw a rod! 'n' goddess be damned if a'm th' one humping the heavy bits on 'n' aff this train again.”

Overdrive’s left eye twitched as he just stared at the pink stallion for a moment while the gears in his mind translated what the mechanic was trying to tell him. “Then we need to stop more often to lubricate the drives. These engines were designed for fast passenger and freight. She will do 100 MPH.” saying with pride as he put one hoof on the main drive rod.

“Laddie, tis was 200 years ago, she isn’t as young as she once was. Ye could jist tak' yer heavy hoof off th' throttle. Yi''ll need tae keep ‘er under 25,” Gandy said, grabbing a flashlight from his utility saddle in his mouth and bending under the linkage to look at the back side of the bearings. “She is dry as a bone. If it wasn’t fur th' cold night 'n' rain it woulda bin smoking or even caught fire.”

“Is there a problem?” A voice said from behind them. Overdrive turned to see Porter walking up. “We are heading up the mountain at first light.”

Overdrive ears laid back looking at her. He spit and turned back to Gandy. “Get the bearings regreased and have her rail ready by mourning.”

“Tis not that simple. Th' bearings ur shot 'n' need ta be replaced.”

“Then pull the rods and repack the bearings,” Overdrive said “Porter, how many bearings do we have left?”

“8, one more full set.” she said recalling the inventory.

“Replace Oan a' eight drives?!” Gandy stammered.

“Fix all the drives that aren't going to burn up and fall off!” Overdrive retorted.

“Urr ye daft? That wid tak' a full day or mibbie more.”

“Then get Crane to help you.” Overdrive turned and started walking into town leaving the two ponies behind. “Like the little one said, we’re rolling out at sunup.”

“Are you not going to help fix it?” Porter yelled toward him, “what do I pay you for?”

“I have my own things to patch up. And you pay me to drive, not to turn wrenches,” Overdrive yelled back as he trotted away.

Walking through the muddy gravel, he left the lights of the rail yard and worked his way through the railcar town.

Through the mist, Overdrive saw the shadow of a pegasus come into view. The closer the pegasus came, the stronger the scent of rotting flesh began to hit his mussel. The ghoul had a chalkboard and a basket hanging around her neck. Her eyes brightened up as she saw Overdrive and cheerfully trotted up to him before wrapping him with a squishy hug.

“Hello Ditzy,” Overdrive said, secretly cringing as he felt her flesh slide around her body.

She placed the basket down and pulled up her chalkboard and wrote “Basket, muffins, for the train crew.”

“Aww thank you, Ditzy.” Overdrive gave her a smile before pulling out and biting into a muffin from the basket. Ditzy had written a new message on the board. “Porter?”

“She is down at the train. I hope you have enough product to trade,” he said, offering a friendly warning.

She gave a bright smile, then it slowly faded and she shrugged. She erased the chalkboard and wrote “Coal?”

“Yep. He’s still alive. And in charge. Just try to avoid him.”

Again, she erased her previous message and wrote. “Muffins! Win over?”

“Doubt it.” biting into his own muffin. “No amount of muffins can change an asshole and a bigot.”

She looked undeterred.

“Well enjoy the rest of your night.” as Overdrive worked his way around her. She waved and coutined her carefree trot to the raidyard.

“Knowing my luck, she would go farel right in the middle of a hug,” he thought to himself, rubbing his tired eyes and walking on.

Slowly, he slipped into the medical clinic. Walking through the dimly light ward, a few ponies where sleeping, but non were who he was looking for. He began working his way to the second story. Each step creaked as he took light steps, trying to make as little noise as possible. Coming up on the bedroom, he slowly opened the door and slipped in.

Narrow slits of light from the window laid across a small bed. The covers of the bed slowly rose and fell with every breath of the beautiful, sleeping mare. Overdrive slipped out of his battle saddle, letting it fall next to the night stand, and took a seat on the bed behind the white mare. He started running his hoof through her cotton candy pink mane. When she stirred he softly said “I hope I didn't wake you.

“You didn't.” she said in a naturally sweet tone

“A Little early to be in bed isn't it?”

“It's been slow, its crappy out, and I was feeling tired.

“Ah, how have you been?

“Fine.” she said, still laying with her back to him.

Red flags began going off in the back of his mind. “Tread carefully my friend,” he thought to himself.

“I missed you”. He leaned down and nuzzled her neck.

Candi scooted away from his nuzzle. Overdrive was starting to feel like he was crashing and burning.

“I did miss you,” she said as she sat up and looked over at him, “but Over, it's been three and half weeks since you were last here.” She looked at him with sad eyes. “It was hard, wondering if you were safe. If I still meant something to you. If I'm your special somepony.”

Overdrive cringed at the words, although he didn't show it. “I came to see you as soon as I could. Gandy is probably cursing me up and down right now.” He had a small smile as he told her this. When she didn't respond he said “I noticed a certain pegasus is still hanging around.” Her eyes glanced down for a second. “Calamity seems to be able to turn heads. Can you tell me there is nothing going on?” He eyed her accusingly.

She slowly responded “I could understand why some mares might find him a looker.” Quickly, Candi followed that up. “But I have never. Besides, he is out with caravans almost as much as you are.”

“Do you really want to have a special some pony who travels as much as I do? What kind of relationship would that be?

“Then why don't you stay here. Railright would eagerly accept you into our town.” Candi proposed an offer she had made several times already.

Overdrive was well aware of Appleloosa's rail capabilities. And they were minimal at best. Turning to look out the window, he took a deep breath and said “Candi, have I ever told you my cutie mark story?”

Candi shook her head.

“I'm from a industrial town/stable called Ironworks. Right on the edge of the Emerald Sea, at the end of route 52. When I was just a young colt, my friends and I would sneak out of the stable and wander the industrial complex. Incredibly dangerous looking back on it now,” He said with a chuckle, still looking out the window.

“One day while we were playing, we got attacked by an ironwolf. Like a urban counterpart to your Timberwolves. They manifest themselves using pieces of scrap iron, its metal mouth drips with hot tar and has a horrible breath that reeks of burning rubber.” He eyes were unfocused as he recalled the memory. Candi didn't say a word as she listened to the story. He spoke with such conviction.

“We did the only think we could do. We ran. But we weren't fast enough. I lost one of my best friends and almost lost my sister, Short Shift. Running through back alley ways, that monster destroyed everything in its way. Ripping out walls, tearing down pipes. It seemed unstoppable. We were diving over creates when Short Shift tripped. I went back for her, but by the time I had her on my back and running again, the beast was right on top of us. I can still remember that overpowering smell. There is a scar on the back of my rear calf where some hot tar landed. It burned so bad, but I pushed through. We had just barely made it into the cab of a spark generated switch engine. I managed to fired it up, release the brakes, and put it in gear. Before that, I had never been in a engine before. We drove away. It pursued us and damn near tore the engine apart, but we found help and they destroyed the ironwolf. After that, this railroad crossing sign appeared and I knew I was destined to run trains. I learned railroading in the switch yards of Ironworks, but when I saw 3133 for the first time she called to me. I knew I had to run that train. To see Equestria, and to get out of Ironworks.”

He paused, having finished his story, and looked into Candi's eyes.

“Candi, I’m sorry. But I just ca….”

She put a hoof on his lips and bent forward. “Shoo…” then pushed her lips to his. He wrapped his fore legs around her and laid her back down on the bed.

“Last stop!! Fillydelphia Rail Terminal, Fillydelphia!! All passengers must disembark!!” All-Aboard hollered out as he walked from car to car. The cute passenger cars of the Friendship Express were standing room only. All-Aboard pushed through the crowd, repeating his message.

The old passenger cars rattled more than they use to. The seat cushions were worn and starting to fray. The amount a passenger traffic has been steadily increasing the past few years. They sure were in thriving times. They would have had to add six more passenger cars to help handel the flow of traffic. The contis was getting so long and heavy that it was getting harder for there 4-4-0 “Equestrian” engine to pull the weight. They were burning ⅔ more coal to get the same mileage they had been getting two years ago.

All-aboard reached the first car and slid open the side door. Leaning out of the train car, they were pulling under the giant awning of Equestria's finest and largest rail depot. Steel I beams rose up from the platforms and made a gentle arc’s over each track. More steel laced between the main girders and supported large sheets of glass, allowing warming rays to bath the patrons in sunlight.

He took a red lantern by the door and started swing it, giving the signal to slow down. As the train slowed to a crawl as it pulled into the station. All Aboard stepped off the train and onto the platform. As the train came to a stop, he started walking back down the train, sliding open the doors and releasing the floodgates of ponies. In seconds, the platform was flooded with bright pastels and an eruption of hooves clapping on concrete, laughing, and a cacophony of conversations so loud that they were able to drown out the pops and hisses of the engine.

Stepping back into the caboose, the light blue, earth pony stallion walk back through each car, closing the doors and making sure each was void of ponies. Trotting through the passenger cars, All Board felt a twinge of sadness. He knew that times were changing, and it was adapt or get left behind, but aside from increased passenger traffic, it really had not affected him personally. That was until two weeks ago, when the time tables came out. It was surprising to find out that the Friendship Express 4-4-0 engine 446 and its 28 small, two axle passenger cars, had been taken off the schedule.

At first he could not understand why the ETC would discontinue its most famous passenger special. Dispatch had been very tight lipped about the future of the Friendship Express, and the two weeks had gone incredibly fast. Before he knew it, the train orders were on his desk for the last transcontinental run. And aside from the slow going and the large volume of passengers, the run was surprisingly uneventful. The glory and pride of 446 pulling the Express will come to an end without ceremony.

Still, walking from car to car, all the memories came back to him. He remembered countless faces of ponies excited to travel to new places. A smile crossed his muzzle remembering past times. The time of the great bakery mystery. A group of friends tried to figure out who was eating the baked goods before a cooking competition was a personal favorite. He got a chuckle recalling that adventure.

By the time he got to the engine, he had found two wallets, a red purse, and a pair of yellow saddlebags. He flagged down a porter, a teal mare, and had her take the lost belongings to the ticket counter. Grabbing a green lantern, he began to wave it. Trying to get the attention of the station control room that was perched high in the station, looking over all the platforms. He stepped into the engine where the engineer, Steamer, was sitting at the controls and looking out the large, heart shaped window in the front of the cab. He kept his eyes on a red light at the end of the platform.

“Well, what next?” Steamer said.

Looking down at the train orders he carried, “We need to drop the cars on track five in the couch yard. Then take this old filly to round house number three, door six.” he said patting his fore hoof on the engine’s window sill.

“She was a good engine.” Steamer released a sad sigh. “What do you think is next?

“Probably get demoted to general freight,” All Aboard said sarcastically.

Steamer looked over with a glare that turned to smile.

The signal light turned green.

“All right, lets go,” Steamer said pulling on the whistle string.

TOOT, TOOT, TOOT!

He gave three quick bursts of the whistle to give an acknowledgment of movement before releasing both the train and engine brakes, pulling the reverser back into the second notch, reverse, and applying ¼ throttle. The train gave a hard knock and started backing out of the station.

After winding from track to track and waiting for freight trains to pass, it was a slow journey across the train yard to drop the string of cars and back the engine into the round house.

Steamer and All Aboard walked into the dispatched office. Dust and dirt being tracked along the floor in front of a long counter. Three mares behind the counter received inbound/outbound train orders, maintenance of way requests, and local industrial waybills for the Fillydelphia District.

“Hey boys!” Timetable, a forest green mare with cherry cola colored mane said as she shifted through the way bills of Engine 756, a mixed freight out of Balimare.

“Hey darling,” All Aboard said, handing her his stack of paperwork. “Not going to lie, it's been a sad few days. I'm going to miss the Friendship Express.”

“Yeah I think this is the end of an era.” Steamer chimed in, leaning on the counter. “So what do you have next for us? Putting us back in the driver pool?”

Timetable looked confused. “End of an era?” she asked as she sent out orders for Engine 235 on track 3, a Gem train going to the Zebralands, and Engine 196 on track 15, a long string of loaded hopper bottoms from Caledonia. “You two are still going to be running the Friendship Express.” she assured them.

“But we were taken off the schedule. And rumor has it they were going to decommission that engine.” All Aboard said.

Timetable just stared at them. “Wow, you’ve really been out on the road to long.” Taking a exasperated sigh. “The Friendship Express isn't being decommissioned, its being upgraded. With this economic boom, Equestrian Locomotive Works and Buckwin Locomotive have been in fierce competition for building the next generation engine. And these engines are massive. They can pull 100 cars at 100 MPH!!”

“Bull shit!” Steamer said. “There isn't a engine on the line that powerful.”

“There WASN’T an engine that could do it. This engine is a 4-8-4,” She said. Steamer looked over at All-Aboard with a impressed look.”Rumor has it Buckwin has plans on the drawing board for a 4-8-8-4,” said Timetable as she stapled timecards together and hoofed then over to Manifest, a teal unicorn mare with an aqua mane.

“I’m sure not to be outdone, the ELW will probably build a 4-10-10-4.” Steamer said jokingly.

“Actually, yes.” Timetable said.

Steamer and All Aboard looked at each other. Timetable just smiled and gathered up papers into a folder and handed it over to All Aboard. Looking down, on the front of the folder there was printed,

All Aboard gave her a sideways look.

“Round house 1, door 3. Then pick up the cars from RIP track 6 and then take the consists to coach track 1 to get prepared for tomorrow's run. The ceremony starts at 10 and your scheduled for leave at 11:14 for Canterlot.

“Ceremony?” Steamer asked.

“It's going to be a big ceremony. Even the princess with be here, taking the first ride on the new train.” Manifest said holding a folder of more paperwork in her amber colored magic glow. “The high brass is making a big todo of this.”

“Well let's go see what this new engine has to offer,” Steamer said as they trotted toward the door.

“‘A 4-10-10-4 engine has to be well over 100’ long. How are you going to get that around curves?” Steamer asked, stepping out the door.

“That's for smarter ponies then you or me to figure out.” All Aboard said following him out.

Congratulation!! You have a train!! The whole of equestria is open to you! Where do you want to go first!

Engine 3133
Make: Equestrian Locomotive Works
Model: FEF-3
Owner: Equestrian Transcontinental
Price: 2,120,000 Bits
Length: 98’ 5”
Weight: 912,250 lb
Fuel/capacity: Coal, 55,000 lb.
Water, 20,000 gl.
Traction Effort: 63,750 ft/lb