Tales of a Brighton Phoenix

by The Stainmore Phoenix

12

I was trying to piece together how to make things work out when we were interrupted by a knock on the door. Skyla bid enter and three ponies entered. One was a Gamboge pegasus, the other I recognized while the other three I barely knew. One was a deep slate gray Alicorn, the second a rich sky blue unicorn and the last being a crimson earth pony.

“Rank and Names,” I said. “For records.”

“First Lieutenant Shadow Sight,” the Slate Gray Alicorn said.

“Colonel Flash Sentry,” the Gamboge Pegasus said.

“Staff Sergeant Elite Sentry,” the White coated pegasus said.

I nodded and after noting them down in on some spare paper, I turned to them and asked that they got acquainted with the others in the office. I noticed Elite Sentry was acting rather rude towards the changelings in the group.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“You know how evil changelings are,” Elite said. “So why are there changelings in here?”

“Simple,” I said. “I know that there are good and indifferent changelings here. Just evil prevails like the smell of rotten food.”

“Nice choice of words,” Flash chuckled.

“Evil stands not with us, but behind, always ready to backstab after swaying us with the plastic rose of goodwill. Only good will use a hidden magic to pull from the wounds a real rose, of which the petal will heal the wound and raise our goodwill of the faded shadows that house those who do the good deeds that go unnoticed,” I said.

“Who...said that?” they asked.

“That would be Brighton's own words right there,” Tintin said. “He's been a bit of a philosopher.”

That got some of the others to chuckle.

“And he's young,” Luna said.

“True,” I said.

We began planning out how things were to go. However, fate seemed to want to screw me over.

“Nightmare Moon wants to see you in her office,” said Sunset, who had been granted permission to enter.

After excusing myself, I made my way to my commanding officer's office, where a couple of colts and mares in fine suits were waiting. After I was told to enter and after being offered a seat, Nightmare looked at me.

“Brighton, these Ponies are from the Railway Directorate,” she said. “And they want your help with getting the Summer Sun Celebration's “After Party” setup. I thought you would be the best choice to help get the loads running.”

“Ah,” I said.

“Do you think you can keep up with the timetables?” one of the ponies quizzed.

“Yes,” I said.

I was then taken to the Director's offices, where I was introduced to the other directors.

“Oh, more brains,” one said, with a relieved sigh.

“Leave me to the planning,” I said.

As we went on with planning and everything, the schedules were set for the running. I then went out to see what engine was available for the first passenger train and there, sitting in a siding was a steam engine that I had literally lived next too-SP4449.

'Why couldn't it be Mallard?' I thought. 'I would like to crack 130+ mph on 250 tare ton trains.'

Why? Because I just love the rush of air as I pull heavy passenger coaches up grades. If there is one positive to this engine, it has chain link couplings and buffers on the front and back and it's train was comprised of six teak coaches. And a massive change to it's look. It was painted in the LMS's own Crimson Lake livery, with German style smoke deflectors and instead of “Southern Pacific” on the tender, in big, block lettering, were the initials LMS. The only things that stayed the same were the basic shape, the 4-8-4 wheel arrangement and it's numbering.

“Think you can manage this load to the Crystal Empire?” one of the heads asked.

“Certainly,” I said.

Deep down, I was nervous. I only ever drove Black 5's, E2's and A3's and they were coal burners, not oil burners. Tintin could drive oil burners and even wood fired engines. I really wish she was here to teach me how to drive this engine. Last time I ever tried driving an oil burning steam engine was when the only preserved J3a Hudson was converted to oil burning-I ended up overflowing the feed pipe for the oil and caused it to burst. So, I'm not exactly enthused about driving this engine.

However, I put on a brave face and climbed into the cab. Once inside, and the door shut, I somehow managed to fill the boiler without blocking or overflowing the feed pipe and got it moving. As the train moved towards the station, there was a loud rattling noise from the front.

'That's only right when something's going to go horribly wrong,' I thought.

I was sorely right. The line out of Canterlot was on a steep grade and it proved a challenge for the locomotives. To my knowledge, this line had double heading locomotives on the heaviest trains, including the premiere express train on the line.

Six coaches should be no problem, but Karma is nothing more than an evil bitch.

As we climbed towards the next station out, the rattling got louder and more persistent. With no firemare or firecolt to call me crazy, I had to cut the speed and power. I glanced at the station board-Maresford.

“BANG!”

“SHIT!”

I hit the brakes hard and the train slid hard forward, the coaches banging hard into each other and into the engine. I threw it in reverse and threw the regulator wide. After getting the train stopped, the guard came up.

“Put down detonators and warn the signal colt that the line's blocked!” I shouted. “We need our train protected!”

“What about the down goods?” came the reply.

“Damn!”

I jumped down and was flying as fast as I could. One problem presented itself-where was the goods train? I began to panic. If I couldn't find that train, it would be certain disaster. A shrill whistle and sound of pistons firing sounded. I glanced down to see a transparent outline of a locomotive. It seemed to be following me.

'What?' I mentally asked as the driver made a signal-follow me. Dropping to be alongside the loco, I saw that it was a J39 0-6-0 tender engine. The driver pointed ahead with a beefy hand. I turned my attention and saw a signalbox. I jumped at the opportunity as the engine snorted through. Landing, I barged in and gave the signalmare there a scare.

“Set your signals to danger! Road's blocked!” I yelped.

Hearing that, she hit a lever and I saw a signal go red. Now, the agonizing part of this-the nail biting wait. Soon, I heard whistles and the scream of brakes and the train drew to a halt. After the crew came in and I explained, I joined them and we proceeded cautiously up the line, where another train was waiting and passengers were shouting rude remarks.

After it was deemed to safely move the engine, I shunted into a siding and cleared the road for the other trains. I began to inspect the coaches to see what damage was done. Damaged buffers and dislodged dining coach supplies. However, a bigger question is-How did that J39 appear and why it chose to come when things began to scare me.

I kept that on the back of my mind as I looked and noticed the cylinder looked fatter than normal on the 4449. Two hours later, some workponies came up and helped me dismantle the cylinder. It had failed masterfully and now we had to wait and find and engine to rescue the train. Luckily, a former Southern Railways U boat mogul was coming up the line with a small goods train and after it was flagged, the 4449 was moved onto the goods train which was only four wagons and a brake-van. The U Boat took the coaches onwards, while I took the goods train up and then brought down the return coal train. If any of my human world American friends ever heard I failed 4449, then I'm a dead colt walking.

As for the scenario playing out here and now, I couldn't really care, as I had no choice in the matter here. It was do the jobs or get shit on by the board of directors and Nightmare Moon. Then again, I would need something strong to help me “fix” my mind.

When I nursed the engine back to the yard, it was immediately taken to the sidings and inspected. As for me, I ended up having to play tape recorder and repeat the events over and over. Of course, the fact that there was a ghost spooked them and when that reached my commanding officer...well, I'll tell that story when it comes up.

As for the crippled engine, I was told to shunt around the yards and prepare trains for the other engines.

“But shouldn't it be taken to the works?” I asked.

“It'll be a two week wait before we get it there,” one of the yard ponies.

“Damn it,” I said.

With that, I left the offices and went back to shunting the yard. As I marshaled some wagons into a siding, I caught sight of a familiar and well loved tank engine, a 14xx #1401. A friend had purchased said loco from scrap and passed into my ownership. I hadn't seen it ever since my little fiasco, involving a fish train, a passenger train, fog and dimly lit signals.

Being confined to the yard wasn't that bad. At least my friends were around to see the almighty son of Cadence being demoted to nothing more than an errand colt. If anything, I was used to shunting and being confined to yards for other reasons, like being new and even getting into a few minor fights.

During the two week delay for the loco repairs, I arranged trains for other engines and other ponies. I didn't mind it and actually had great fun pushing trucks and coaches around. Once the engine was taken to the works, I went back to the castle.

Evidentially my mishap reached the castle before me and the first thing I heard was...“You killed the 4449, you British twit!”

“How nice to see you Tintin,” I said.

The only response was her cuffing me around the left ear. Once I was back in my sister's office, with Luna and the others, the only response was, “Just as expected, fucking up the simple job.”

Luna was confused.

“How could he make a mess of a simple job? He was praised as being an excellent railway pony,” she said. “He has no flaws in that area as I saw. He's knowledgeable and very keen to please.”

“Except there is one problem with that statement,” Tintin said. “And one that he's admitted is hard for him to come to terms with-He cannot drive oil burning engines. He doesn't have the skill to do that properly. He's a visual learner and with a coal fire, he can see if he needs to add coal or not. With an oil burner, he doesn't have that keen eyesight, which is why I go along.”

“Does that make it hard for you two?” Luna asked again.

“No,” Tintin said. “In fact, his driving is superb. Not as good as experienced crews, but up there. I will give him the proper congratulations on these points-he's a capable goods driver, his eyes and ears are tuned to the locomotive and if it's talking is a bit off, he knows something is wrong and he's vigilant. However, he's not Little Mr. Perfect. He still makes mistakes.”

“True,” Luna said.

It seemed hard to believe, but we got over my screw up in time to get a caller-Celestia. Oh...shit.

Author's Note:

This is the locomotive