Midnight Rail

by daOtterGuy

Onboarding Passengers II

Soarin jerked upright in bed. He whipped his head about the unfamiliar room he found himself in. His heart pounded in his ears as he felt something squeeze his chest. He hunched over, clutching the front of his shirt tightly, his mind in the throes of panic.

Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale.

As he came down from his anxiety, recognition finally registered. Rusted metal walls similar to a shipping container. A soft cot. Metal shelves and crates stocked full of parts, clothes, and miscellaneous items. A pig was spray painted on the door with the text ‘It’s Only Us’ written underneath.

It was his cabin on the Midnight Rail. A train that had proved significantly larger than expected. He felt he should have been more weirded out by the inconsistencies, but his boss had a moon for a head, so that was a distant second in comparison.

He got out of bed, refreshed. Despite the rough appearance, it was leagues more comfortable than his office. He threw on a fresh set of clothes (his usual, but washed, which he hadn’t had the luxury of for years) and walked out the door.

Moving briskly down the star-studded corridors, he came to the front passenger car faster than he had the night before. He filed the strangeness away with the weird dimensions of the interior.

“Good morning, Golding,” Leap greeted. “Did the patches heal your wounds?”

“Yeah.” A luxury from Stalliongrad. A simple piece of green cloth with a gel surface that instantly healed most wounds on application. He could never afford them before. “Good as new.”

“We are glad to hear that, as you will have a job to do later today.”

“Solo?”

“Three new members of the Rail will be joining you after we pick them up. They have agreed to our contract ahead of time, so all we have to do is pick them up.”

“Who are they?”

“London, Bradbury, and Hinton.”

“Codenames?”

“Yes, and they will introduce themselves as such. Please take the time to remember them when they do. For now, we encourage you to relax.”

Soarin nodded, then flopped into a nearby seat. He glanced out the window, watching the darkness whip past. He let his thoughts wander. Curiosity formed wild images in his head of who could be boarding the train. Worries cascaded in on the upcoming job and his ability to deliver.

His anxiety flared, but he clamped down on it. He was about to make a first impression on his future teammates and, as the leader, their first thought couldn’t be ‘panicky nutcase’.

The train shrilly whistled, announcing its arrival at the next station. It screeched to a stop before the sound of a steam whistle reverberated through the cabin.

Soarin stood up and walked to the entry doors. Leap observed from their seat. The new passenger stepped onboard.

“That’s a child.” Soarin hadn’t meant for that to slip out.

“Bugger to you too, ya knob,” the passenger retorted, flipping the bird.

She was lanky and tall for her age, with light orange skin and a short crop of messy purple hair underneath a felt flat cap. She dressed poor, in worn clothes that you would find in a cast off bin. Her eyes were ferocious, belying a deep seated anger and distrust.

“Age is not a requirement or condition to board the train,” Leap stated.

“They’re a child,” Soarin repeated, hoping that doing so would cause this event to make sense to him.

“And?” Leap replied. “As previously stated, age is a non-factor for recruitment. Additionally, being young does not exempt one from the hardships of modern Equestria.”

“But—” Soarin stopped. Leap was right. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen a child in a position they shouldn’t be, nor did he assume it would be the last. “... Sorry, you’re right. I’m acting foolish.”

“Damn right, you are,” the passenger said, arms crossed. “Ya done talking stupid?”

“Yeah.” Soarin gulped down his pride and extended a hand toward the girl. “My name is Golding.”

“Scoo— London.” She stepped back, scrunching up her face in distaste at the offered hand. “Thought I was working for some One Big Leap?”

“You are. We are they,” Leap remarked. “Golding will be leading.”

“Oh,” London said, her tone belying disappointment.

Soarin withdrew his hand and ignored the anxiety that flared in the back of his mind at the distinct lack of confidence. “You aren’t surprised at Leap’s appearance?”

“So long as they keep me out of Dodge, I don’t care if they’re a sentient butt.” She eyed him up and down then glared. “Get out of my space.”

Soarin coughed. “Well, I thought first we could—”

She pulled out a knife and brandished it in his direction. “Step off,” she snarled.

Soarin raised his hands and took a big step back. Keeping him within her line of sight, she stalked past, tucked her knife back into her sleeve, and sat down in the seat furthest away from them.

“We are glad that you have finally met,” Leap said. “This went much better than how we had predicted it to go.”

“How’d you think it would have gone?” Soarin asked.

“We presumed you would have ended up bleeding out on the floor.”

“Give me any reason,” London chimed in.

Soarin sighed.

---

The train slowed to a stop. Soarin gripped an overhead bar tightly. The next passenger was due to board.

“The tartar you doin’ on your feet?” London said. She had taken to glare at him for the majority of the trip, which had done nothing for his nerves. “You've been doin’ that for half the ride. Tryin’ to go flyin’ off into the wall or somethin’?”

“We believe that Golding is taking the initiative to greet our next passenger early to leave a better first impression.” Leap turned the page of their paperback. The title read Call of the Wild. He didn’t recognize it. “We appreciate his initiative as team captain.”

“So ya told me.” London snorted. “Pretty sure a tin can with a face drawn on it could do better.”

His fist clenched. Fingernails pierced skin. It grated on him. Not because of what she said, but because he couldn’t refute it. He’d left a bad impression on her. He was incompetent. But he couldn’t admit that.

“... I’m just trying my best,” Soarin mumbled.

“Sure. Whatever you say, Cap.”

“Cap?” Soarin asked, the nickname feeling good to say. “Like Captain?”

“Like your hat.” The idiot was unsaid.

“How delightful,” Leap added unhelpfully.

Soarin sighed. Again. He’d been doing a lot of that.

The door slid open. The next passenger stepped onboard. Soarin looked at them. Then up. And up. Soarin was by no means short, but this giant of a woman certainly made him feel small.

She was built like a labour worker, with an excess of muscle stretching out her blouse and thick long sleeved trench coat. The colour scheme and labels suggested she was part of public service. The singed parts of her long, waist length red hair narrowed that down to a firefighter. She clutched a messenger bag close to her, filled to the brim with something Soarin couldn’t make out.

The passenger grabbed his free hand and shook it up and down, nearly dislocating his shoulder. “It’s great to meet you! You must be One Big Leap!”

“N-no, I’m Golding,” Soarin stuttered.

A pause. “Then who’s Leap?” She looked past him. “Oh, you must be them!” She dropped his hand and walked past. Soarin clenched and unclenched his hand to ease the throbbing pain. The passenger shook Leap’s hand with vigour. “Thank you so much for this opportunity, uh, sir?”

“Feel free to address us however you please,” Leap replied.

“Will do, Moonie!” She glanced around the cabin. “So, where’s the boss? It’s some guy named Golding, right?”

“You just met him.”

The passenger turned to look back at Soarin. A brief look of disappointment crossed her face before it was replaced by a beaming smile. “Great to meet you, sir!” She called out, saluting. “It will be great working with you!”

“... At ease,” Soarin replied, trying not to be bothered by the glimpse of her real feelings.

She shot off her salute and scanned the rest of the train. Her eyes lit up as she saw London. She walked briskly toward her. London backed away.

“Oh. My. Gosh! You are the cutest thing!” The passenger cried.

“Stand back, giantess!” London shouted, waving her knife around. “I will cut you!”

London was hugged tightly by the passenger, who reached past the knife and brought her tightly to her chest, swinging her around like a rag doll.

“I can’t believe we have such a cute little girl to cheer us on!”

“I’m a passenger, you gnat!” London shrieked. She growled like a feral dog.

The passenger stopped. She looked toward Soarin and Leap for confirmation. Both nodded their heads. Embarrassed, the passenger set London back onto their feet.

London glared.

“... Sorry,” the passenger mumbled.

“You do it again and I’m going for the eyes,” London retorted. She eyed the bag at the passenger’s side. She reached toward it. “So, what’s in the—”

The passenger stepped back, pulling the bag tighter to her body with one hand, and pulling out a fireman’s ax with the other from the folds of her coat. She brandished it against London, her eyes wide with fear.

London took a step back, nervousness on her face.

“No harm will come to your belongings,” Leap interjected. “Should they be damaged, you can be certain that I will repair them back to pristine condition.”

“R-right. That was part of the agreement.” The passenger laughed. It was a pained sort that was desperately trying to recover the vibe. She put away her weapon. “So! My name is Bradbury. Looking forward to working with you all!”

Awkwardness filled the silence that followed. Leap, thankfully, broke it.

“Your cabin is further down the train if you would like to take a moment to recover. It will be the door with the mark of a thermometer.”

“Great, thanks! I will … go do that,” Bradbury said.

She briskly walked out of the passenger car and toward her room. Silence followed in her wake, broken only by the soft turning of a page from Leap’s book.

---

Soarin tapped his leg nervously as the train began to screech to a stop at the third station. He needed at least one of these introductions to go off without a hitch. Thankfully, London had gone back to her room for a while, and Bradbury still hadn’t returned. The lack of audience eased his anxious mind.

A mind that was reeling. The disasters that were his first meetings with London and Bradbury weighed heavily on him. He was meant to lead them, and it was clear that neither respected nor had any faith in him. He hadn’t even done anything yet, and he had already proved to be a failure.

“We can see that you are stressed, Golding,” Leap observed. Soarin nodded hesitantly. “We would like you to know not to. You will do fine.”

“... How can you know I won’t screw this up? I’ve already done so,” Soarin said.

“What exactly have you ‘screwed up’? You have been with us in an official capacity for less than a day. It is ludicrous to expect you to have succeeded or failed.”

Echoes of memories raced through his head. Expectations of who he was supposed to be. “I don’t feel confident in my capability to lead.”

“A problem that will be resolved with time as you get to know your fellow passengers and work with them,” Leap closed their book, tucking it inside their inner jacket pocket. “Know this, Golding. Regardless of how far you may get or how badly you may fail, that you have tried at all is more than enough to be proud of.”

Hollow words, but comforting nonetheless. Soarin could feel his anxiety begin to ease. “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it.” Leap waved a hand.

The doors slid open and the third passenger boarded. Another woman. Long messy green hair that framed a dour, freckled face. She wore a long knitted sweater and skirt all coloured in earthy tones. She was covered in mud and flecks of dried blood. She held a pistol in one hand. It shook in her grip. Green eyes peered at him, bubbling with emotions that he couldn’t begin to unravel.

Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale.

He extended his hand to her, ignoring the details that gave him pause. “My name is Golding,” Soarin greeted. “I will be your team captain. I look forward to working with you.”

He was too anxious. He was too stiff. He was too him. She eyed him warily. He was worried he’d already made an error in judgement. She raised her gun hand, realized that it held a pistol, and extended her free hand to shake his instead.

“... Hinton,” she said. Her voice was soft, but as clear as newly cleaned glass. “Is One Big Leap nearby?”

Soarin stepped back and gestured toward Leap, who sat staring at the new passenger. Hinton moved to be right in front of them. She tried to speak, but her mouth quivered, making her incapable of speech.

“Speak,” Leap commanded.

“Was I supposed to be the one to live?” Hinton asked. Her tone suggested tears on the verge of breaking.

Leap regarded Hinton quietly. Finally, they said, “Things sometimes happen for a reason, and sometimes they happen because the world is cruel. You are not here for either of these reasons. You are here because someone cared about you more than themselves and made a selfless decision. That is worth more than something as contrived as ‘supposed to be’.”

“She believed in your cause,” Hinton said.

“... She did,” Leap agreed.

Hinton wiped at her eyes. When her hand came away, steely determination remained. “Then I’ll do what she can’t anymore.”

“We are happy to hear that.” Leap stood up. “Now, we believe that the others are due back.”

They clapped twice. Bradbury and London spilled out, the prior surprised, the latter already cussing up a storm.

Bradbury hissed in pain as she rubbed her backside. “That was not the kind of wild ride I enjoy.”

“Never do that again!” London shouted, jumping to their feet. “Who’s this chick?” She pointed at Hinton then waved her hand. “Actually, don’t care. Why’d you drag us out, Moon?”

“Your first job,” Leap announced. “Before tackling the first Trauma, you’ll need some more tools in your arsenal. The four of you shall be hunting two Deviants today.”

“Tartarus, yeah!” London pumped her fists. “Been lookin’ to do a good shankin’ all day!”

Bradbury stretched as she got off the floor. “Nice! Will be a good warm up for the real thing.”

“... Hopefully, it won’t be too harrowing,” Hinton added.

“What Deviants are we hunting?” Golding asked.

Golding got the impression of a wide mischievous grin from Leap.

“A rather powerful duo that will serve us well.” They paused. Presumably for theatric emphasis. “They are For Want of Everything and Tears for the Damned.”

Comments

[Gale Maze]

The Odyssey had a purpose

[Braveheart the shining]

Whos radbury

[daOtterGuy]

11687998
Do you mean, who is Radbury's MLP equivalent? Or do you mean who is the author Radbury?

If its question 1: its Autumn Blaze
If its question 2: its a famous sci-fi author named ray radbury

[Braveheart the shining]

11688204
Thank you. The first. Also I think its ray bradbury