“Then what?” Applejack didn’t bother to hide the smirk that crept onto her muzzle as her brother Big Mac sat entranced by the story being told by his littlest sister, sitting across the table both their hayburgers forgotten on their plates. The older apple sister looked across the table, and her smile only grew when she saw the happiness in her grandmother’s old eyes.
“Well,” Apple Bloom said resuming her story. “After they got the Khal-taur out of the tunnel, the workers had to spend a lot of time check’n the tracks on the other end. It was on this reaaaaally tall cliff, and you could see Saddle Lake and Ponyville and everyth’n from it! You could even see the Carousel Boutique an our windmill from there!”
“We didn’t go very fast after that though,” Sweetie Belle said casually, sipping the fresh tea her mother had prepared for dinner. “Mr. Top Hat and the workers kept making Lilly stop so they could check the tracks. One time they even had to push the rails back together.”
“It’s no wonder,” Rarity nodded. “All those years unattended, and so close to that horrible forest. Why it’s a miracle the tracks were still there at all.”
“That’s what Silver Spoon said,” the unicorn filly nodded. “She even had to tell the worker pony’s how to use one of the tools they brought.”
“Clever little thing isn’t she?” Sweetie Belle’s mother remarked, sipping her tea.
“She’s wicked smart,” Scootaloo related to Rainbow Dash as the prism maned Pegasus watched the filly practice her wings, hover hopping from cloud to cloud. “Like real egghead smart.”
“Make’s sense,” Rainbow shrugged watching the filly slowly building up her wing muscles. They did this at least three times a week after dinner, and the filly’s anemic wings had already improved by leagues. Given a good running start, she could glide through the air at least 20 feet before gravity brought her down. “Her uncle’s the big boss of the railway ain’t he?”
“Yeah. Silver Spoon’s like a living book when it comes to the history, and Diamond’s the same way with the engines.” Scootaloo poked her tongue out as she leapt into the air, spinning a little at the top of her jump before landing. “When we finally got to the old mine, she started running and jumping all over the place looking at all the old stuff. There was even some old freight cars buried in the back!”
“The stuff pony’s leave behind eh?” The cyan mare laughed, taking a moment to glance across the trees and town, over Saddle Lake to the low rocky ridge just peeking over the tip of the Everfree forest. “Hey squirt, how long do those business ponies reckon it’ll take them to have the trains running again anyway?”
“Not very,” Apple Bloom said taking a bite of some alfalfa that had fallen off her hayburger. “Mr. Top Hat said at most they jus need ta do some re-ballast’n here an there, and replace a few pieces of track. The big challenge is gonna be the bridge they need ta put in ta connect with the station in Ponyville.”
“I can imagine,” Granny Smith said nibbling on her plate of steamed leaves, looking distant and deep in thought. “My oh my, this’ll be the biggest con-struct’n project since they put up the Town Hall, or built the train station for that matter,” she laughed, but her eyes only grew more misty, looking deep back into her memory. “If only Pippin could be here to see this.”
“Pippin?” Applejack asked setting down a glass of milk, and her grandmother smiled in the coy way only grandparents can.
“Lil, Bloom here wasn’t the first Apple to make an engine a friend,” She smiled wistfully. “Back before you and yer brother were born, Pippin pulled the trains tween here an Whitetail. Oh he didn’t look much like the trains we gots now. He was a steam tram. Big hen shed on wheels I called him once,” she laughed heartily. “Poor fella got so mad, he din’t say a word the rest of the day!”
Apple Bloom leaned forward in her seat, ears perked and open, and her big siblings could only shake their heads. She was up late that night, listening by the fireplace as Granny Smith told her about the old days and simpler times, of gracious hard working farm ponys and steam engines, and stubborn mayors and even more pig headed merchants.
The filly went to bed that night happily tired, but as Big Mac finished tucking her in, he noticed a flicker of candle light dancing across the floor at the bottom of the stairs. The red stallion snuck down the stairs as carefully as he could, peeking his head out just enough to see Granny Smith pulling a thick book from the fireplace mantle. Mac couldn’t help but smile, he knew the old mare wasn’t nearly as crippled as she let on, and she could still surprise the apple siblings in the field some mornings. But tonight, as she sat down in the chair by the flickering embers of the fireplace, a single candle lit on the tiny table beside her, Mac could see the years catch up with her. And as she opened the book, the years kept coming.
He knew what was in those pictures, he’d snuck enough peeks when he was Apple Bloom’s age, but he still kept quiet as he could as he walked up behind his grandmother’s chair and looked into the book, and the story’s each little magically captured image told.
A tiny sapling in a burlap bag, the buds of flowers just starting on its branches, while an apple green mare with braided pigtails smiled lovingly beside it.
A fresh cut clearing, holes still empty where stumps had been dug out while a wooden frame took shape, with the beginnings of plank walls and a brick chimney.
A family picture, three distinct branches of the apple family. In the middle was a young couple, a tall deep red stallion, smiling beneath his Stetson hat, while the green mare beside him smiled in spite of herself, trying in vain to turn so her large belly didn’t show.
A foal, a little colt wrapped in blankets, his tiny bright yellow muzzle just barely poking out beneath his sleepy green eyes.
As the pictures went on, the colt got older. Going to school, playing with his friends, his wonder when his parents presented him with a little sister and brother. The pictures showed them playing through a growing town, one building after another rising along the streets. There was even one of a half built clock tower, where the colt and an older stallion with wild white hair stood beside the yet to be installed clock.
The pictures didn’t change much, but the town in them got bigger, and two more colts appeared in some of the pictures, playing with the couple’s son. One was an off-white unicorn, the other a dark tan earth pony. They ran and played in the small park, through the orchard, there was even a picture of them climbing into the cab of a blue steam tram. There was nother picture of them with the tram, this time with a tiny box car behind it filled with crates of fresh apples being loaded insdie. However, only the two of the colts were doing the loading. The yellow colt, was busy talking to an orange mare with red hair.
Granny Smith laughed softly and shook her head, only for the smile to run away from her face as her hoof lingered on the page’s edge. For the longest moment she didn’t move, or so much as breathe for that matter, until a sigh finally escaped her and she closed the album.
‘Seems like only yesterday,’ she thought to herself, sinking into her chair. She felt the soft presence of her grandson, and basking in the warmth of the fires embers, she slowly closed her eyes and entered Princess Luna’s realm of dreams.
Apple Bloom wasn’t quite as asleep as her family thought when she heard her big brother’s hoof-steps coming back up the stairs. Her door was open just enough that she could peek outside, and the look on Big mac’s face told the little filly her big brother was sad about something. The next morning, she couldn’t help but tell Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo.
“It couldn’t be the sales,” She thought out loud as she had her fellow crusaders made their way across town. Instead of their club tree house, The Crusaders were going to the Ponyville train station to talk with their tank engine friend. “We had one of our best crops ever this year. The only thang else gets Mac upset is seeing Granny Smith sad.”
“But why?” Scootaloo asked, but her earth pony friend could only shake her head.
“I wish ah knew,” She sighed, wells already turning in her mind. Not one of the crusaders could stay sad for long though, as they were soon at the station, and a tiny cloud of steam signaled Lilly was already steaming up for the day.
She had spent the night in the shed where the station kept important passenger cars, like Filthy Rich’s private coach or even the royal coach when Princess Cadance visited her sister in law. It sat at the end of a trio of long passing sidings just beyond the tiny stations main platform. To the shed’s left was a switch that lead to a small turn table and around it, five more tracks fanning out into the tall grass. Just down the line was the junction, where the mainline from Canterlot branched off, one line headed south over the Ghastly Gorge and on to Appleloosa and Dodge City, the other going west toward Whitetail Woods through the Elk Ridge tunnel.
But though her fire was sizzling nicely and her boiler warming up, Lilly looked very glum indeed.
“Morn’n Lilly,” Apple Bloom smiled trotting up to the little tank engine.
“Hey girls,” She sighed dejectedly, a tone the fillies knew well from pony’s returning from the Ms. Cheerilees office.
“What’s wrong?” Sweetie Belle asked jumping onto Lilly’s buffer beam and taking a seat on the warm metal.
“While we were looking at the branch line, Mr. Rich had some ponies surveying a route through town for the new tracks. They were almost at Saddle Lake when a pony from the local Guard walked up to them.” Lilly couldn’t honestly say she understood the details, she had more in common with her new Filly friends than she realized, but she did know the looks on Mr. Rich and Mr. Top Hat’s faces last night had not been happy ones.
“They said they won’t allow trains to run through town unless they have nets and a kitchen.”
“Nets?” Scootaloo asked tilting her head in confusion as the faint sound of an approaching train wafted through the air. “Why the hay would a train need nets to be around ponys?”
“Or a kitchen fer that matter,” Apple Bloom added, scratching her bow trying to figure out their latest problem. First Big Mac, now Lilly, Apple Bloom’s mind was tying itself in more knots than her pink bow just trying to figure out how to help one of them!
It was Sweetie Belle’s finely tuned ears that perked up when a steam whistle shrieked across the station yard, wailing like Rarity at spilled juice. The unicorn Filly whimpered as she tucked and pressed her ears against her head, and even Scootaloo winced at the sheer volume of the sound, but Lilly seemed to perk up on her wheels.
“I know that whistle,” she gasped as a big tender engine pulled a long freight train into the Ponyville station yard, newly cleaned grey and silver paint shining like new in the morning sun.
“Good morning Lilly,” The big engine cheered, and while the Crusaders were by no means unhappy to see Mikaela again, her next whistle nearly sent them to their knees. Her whistle shrieked so loudly and at such a high pitch, Apple Bloom swore she could hear everfree timberwolves howling in agony.
“Mickey!” The Tank engine winced before the silver engine’s whistle stopped. “Why on earth do you still have that stupid thing?”
“I happen to like my banshee whistle thank you very much,” Mikaela hmphed importantly. “There’s no comparison when it comes to announcing one’s presence.”
“Yeaaaah,” Scootaloo droned sarcastically, massaging her ears. “Nothing says hello like a splitting headache.” Lilly and the other Crusaders giggled at the indignant look the little pegasi’s remark brought to the big engine’s face, which worked better at lightening the mood than anything else.
“Good to see you’re out and about,” Lilly smiled as the end of Mikaela’s train finally cleared the mainline and passed over the points.
“It was a bit of a rush job,” The big Mikado admitted, feeling a tiny jet of steam escape from somewhere it probably shouldn’t. “But I’m not about to let you and these fillies try wrestling this branch line back open all on your own. It’s the least I can do for the newest Railway Juniors.”
“You already know about that?” Apple Bloom realized out loud.
“Hard not to,” The tender engine laughed. “You six are the talk of the line! Every engine and rail-pony from Manehattan to Baltimare is talking about the five fillies and the little tank engine that raced against time to save The Sun Racer Limited!”
“Eep!” was all the sound Lilly gave before she vanished in a cloud of steam. Scootaloo, as expected, was nothing less than ecstatic.
“We’re famous?! Awesome!”
“Holy smokes!,” Apple Bloom gasped, a country mile wide smile on her muzzle. “Jus wait till Diamond an Silver get a load of this!!”
“Where are they anyway?” Lilly asked, glancing around the shed.
“Sleeping probably,” Mikaela puffed, yawning in spite of herself. “At least that’s where I would be if these cars hadn’t needed delivery.”
“What’s in em?” Apple Bloom asked walking out and sweeping her eyes down the length of the train behind the tender engine that all but filled the stations passing siding. There were at least fifteen freight cars, all long and riding on four wheels trucks: six flat cars loaded down with gleaming new steel rails, seven more piled high with fresh cut wooden ties, two box cars, and a brake van.
“Building supplies,” Mikaela smiled sleepily, the early hour catching up with her. “Yard manager said they’re for the new connection through Ponyville.” When her explanation only earned glum looks from Lilly and the Crusaders, the big engine felt curiosity and concern ebb away her lethargy. “What is it?” She asked, and Lilly explained what she had heard, with Scootaloo joining in toward the end of the tale.
“And if we can’t get Lilly come nets and a kitchen, they might not let her run on her new tracks.”
“Nets and a … wait,” Mikaela groaned looking at the sky. “What exactly did they say you would need to get?”
“I uh …” The mulberry tank engine suddenly looked very sheepish, and her eyes were looking everywhere but at the bigger engine. “Well, they didn’t say nets and a kitchen exactly. S-something about catching cows and plates for my sides.”
“You mean cowcatchers and side-plates,” Mikaela corrected, muttering something about tank engines with soot in their funnels. “They’re safety measures to keep ponies nearby from being caught under your wheels. Do you remember Hut and Hike, the little diesel shunters that help Terrance on Foal Mountain?” Lilly’s face paled, and anyone in her cab would have noticed her boiler pressure drop dramatically.
“That’s what those are?!” She panicked. “You mean if I want to run through town, I gotta wear those ridiculous things?”
“What’s so bad about em?” Scootaloo asked off handedly, earning a snort from Mikaela.
“They’re basically a metal skirt that goes round the outside edge of an engines frames.”
“And what’s wrong with skirts?” Sweetie Belle asked, doing her best impression of her big sister when she had a self-proclaimed fashion expert on her hooves.
“Nothing, if you have legs,” The tender engine said drolly. “But on an engine … well….” She searched and searched for the right words, until Lilly supplied them.
“They make you look like somepony stuck a boiler and cab on top of a box.” The crusaders took a moment to picture it in their heads, and based on the degrees of disgust Mikaela saw on their muzzles, they now understood Lilly’s aversion.
“I really don’t wanna have to get side-plates,” Lilly groaned. “Everyone will laugh at me.”
“Hey,” Apple Bloom piped up looking the tank engine in the eye. “Just cause how you look might change don’t mean what we think of ya will.”
“Farm girl’s right,” Scootaloo added. “You’re our friend Lil, and we’re with ya no matter what.”
“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle chimed, bringing a smile to the tank engine’s face.
“Thank you.”
“Now that’s friendship,” Mikaela smiled. “Not every engine can say they have three friends like that who would stick with them through thick and thin, or getting modified to look like some boxy fiddly old tram engine.”
“Mickey!” Lilly shouted indignantly, just as Apple Bloom’s eyes shot wide open.
“Wait, what was that last part?”
“Umm, fiddly old tram engine?” Mikaela answered nervously as the filly's grin grew so wide it threatened to split her muzzle.
“That’s it!”
“What’s it?” Lilly asked, voicing the other crusaders confusion. Apple Bloom quickly related Granny Smiths stories from the night before to the engines, and later that day, Mikaela’s driver and fire-ponys were retelling those same stories to Top Hat in the caboose of Mikaela’s train.
“Yes,” he sighed with a grim look on his face, like a colt who knew he wasn’t getting the presents he wanted for Hearthswarming. “A tram engine is just what we need for the branch line, and I seem to remember my father going on about losing an engine by the name of Pippin to the Southern. But to my knowledge the steam trams were all scrapped years ago.”
“I’ve heard talk Sir,” Mikaela’s firepony said, “of an old steam tram working the docks in Tall Tale. I don’t know any real specifics Sir, but the fact he’s managed to keep himself busy all these years says something.”
“Quite,” The railway manager nodded. He was already in the process of buying the Ponyville Depot for the new Union terminal, and a dedicated engine to take freight from the station across town would help immensely. “I’ll send a letter to his manager at once.”