> The Guild of Equestrian Railwaymen: Dual bands of steel through the hills
>  by bucking bronco 1968
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue: Tall Tale Short Line
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

My name is Fire Stoker, Stokey or Stokes for short, and I worked on the Tall Tale Mountain Short Line for 60 years. I was following in the hoof steps of my Dad, Brick Arch, and my grandfather Hotbox, who was one of the founding members of The Guild of Equestrian Railwaymen. It was because of this that the second I expressed interest in making my live centered around the railway, they taught me to have respect for the engines and other machines used on the railways. I always carried their teaching with me and I tried my best to pass them on as they would want to themselves. But, I would see for myself over the course of a few years what would happen when the managers that took over the railway didn't care about the respect railway machines need and deserve. Little did I know at that time, that my simple life of riding the twin bands of steel, would lead to tragedy, destruction, and a conspiracy so high up that it would eventually pull in all three of Equestria's princesses. My name is Stokey, and this is my story.
> Chapter 1: Bridge Over the River Dragon Tooth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walked along the track, kicking at the ballast. It seemed like I made this walk so often now that it was almost a weekly routine. 

It had been a hard week, no thanks to the decision makers upstairs, and I needed to escape everything for a while and clear my head. I had been walking for a while but I finally made it to where I wanted to go. I looked up to see the railway bridge that spanned the Dragon Tooth River.

River was a little bit of an understatement, though, as it was almost 200 feet in width. 

The bridge was just over 350 feet long and 28 feet high. It had been built when my Grandfather, Hotbox, was 20 years old, a bit younger than I was now. The sight of the bridge made me think about the old stallion. It had been such a long time since I had seen him, but there wasn't much I could do about that.

I shook my head, knocking that nasty thought from my brain. Hotbox wouldn't want me to pity him, so I thought about better times. The bridge gave me just the times to think about. He had brought me here to this same bridge so many times in years past, that it had become part of my soul. 

He brought me here on days when he was off shift and we would sit down by the river listening as the water thundered over the rocks, and trains bounced over the bridge above us. It became a sort of save place for me over time, and it became a place that I would turn to when I needed to get away. Often times I would get there by hopping into empty boxcars and jumping out when I got to the bridge, or the closest signal so I could walk along the line in peace.

I remembered the many times I had come here with big thoughts on my mind. One of the biggest that always stuck out was when I had sat under the bridge for nearly an entire day when my friend was in the hospital on life support with a broken neck, after getting hit hard in hoofball to get the league winning touchdown. 

He did get it though, and after months in intensive care, lived to tell the tale and become my fire stallion.

And of course there were the multiple times I had come here with my High Schools friends to use the deep river below the bridge as our own private swimming pool, with the bridge acting as a high dive. It was an incredibly stupid idea, and there was more than one time someone hit the water wrong and broke something. But that was what me and my friends were like back then, idiotic dare devils who thought we owned the world, and couldn't die.

As I walked down the steep bank, gravel slipping under my hooves, I went back to the many times I had climbed down this same gravel with my grandfather. Sitting under the bridge talking about what had went on at the railyard over the last weeks and months, and just bonding on the banks of the river.

I then spotted a rather large rock sitting near one of the bridge's thick wooden supports, and it made me smile. It was the rock that Hotbox and I would usually sit on when we talked. 

I trotted over to it and took a seat on the rock. It had been a long time since I had been able to come up to the bridge, and even longer since I had sat down there with my grandfather. Thinking about the old stallion again and being on our old rock made me flash back to the last time I had been down there with Hotbox, back when I had only been 8 years old.





He had gotten back from talking with the princess about the Guild a few days earlier and I was so excited to hear what she had said.

We had hitched a ride up on a slow freight and we had been sitting down by the river for a few minutes in silence when I finally couldn't contain myself anymore. "Well, are you gonna tell me what the princess said?"

Hotbox laughed a little before he turned to me, "Well, me and the others were a little worried when we first got there and heard the nobles around us commenting on how she wouldn't want anything to do with dirty commoners. I think that was mostly directed at me because I was still in my engineer's denims."

We both had a laugh at that. Being a crew member on a locomotive is a dirty job usually involving you getting covered in coal dust, soot, and grease. So it wasn't uncommon for ponies who weren't from a railway background to stare at us is we haven't changed out of our denims.

"So." I said as the laughter died down, "Was she really mean?" 

He just smiled at me, "Not at all. She was the picture of kindness to us. When we told her about our, organization, for lack of a better word, she was very interested. We probably spent hours talking to her about what we wanted to do. By the time we were done, she was quite impressed and said she'd help us any way she could. And that's when Ditchlight brought up something that I thought was asking a little too much." 

I was obviously confused, "What do you mean?"

"Well it's not too hard to see that the railway's struggling a little bit. The old 4-6-0's and 2-8-2's have taken a hard beating from the grade and they're starting to wear out. We do what we can to keep them running. But as it stands, we can't take them out of service to be overhauled as we need every engine pulling trains day in and day out to keep the railway going." 

I could understand where they were coming from. The Tall Tale Mountain Short line had its name for a good reason, as it crossed the entirety of the Smokey Mountain range, running from Tall Tale to Vanhoover, a total distance of 132 miles, not including the line down to Hoofington. Ironic that it was called a short line. It wasn't uncommon for railways to cross mountain ranges, but Tall Tale was special. Coming up from Tall Tale, there was a 1.7% grade. That means that for every 100  feet, the line rises 1.7 feet, which by railway standards is pretty steep. But that had nothing on the side of the mountain toward Vanhoover, which had an average grade of 2.23%, with a max grade of 2.9%, which is near unheard of for something outside a mining or logging railway. 

The grade was one of the first railway lines to be laid 40 years ago when the idea of railways spread across Equestria. Because of that, the line had earned the nickname, The Olde Grade. The Grade dealt out a beating on the engines that ran it, and often times they couldn't keep to the speed limits posted. This lead to the trains often being behind time when they reached the summit, which was their saving grace. 

The summit of the line was a flat, straight piece of track that spanned for 15 miles that engineers often ignored the speed limit on to make up for lost time that might have racked up on the grueling climb up.

As if on cue, a train rushed over the bridge above us, shaking the ground as it thundered past over our heads.

"So Ditchlight brought up how the railway was experiencing hard times and that they needed new engines desperately to keep the railway going."

I couldn't even imagine that. Someone like Ditchlight, one of the railway's owner, asking the very ruler of our land, for something like help in keeping a business alive. At the time I severely underestimated the princes's kindness, but I was 8 and just couldn't imagine it. "What did she do?"

Hotbox turned and smiled, "She said to us that she couldn't have the leaders of the biggest work force revolution in centuries, and hub of raw materials coming into the nation lose their jobs, so she signed an letter and sent it to the Canterlot Locomotive Company which placed an order for various freight and passenger engines. Turns out the princess is versed in the types of engine in the kingdom."

I was more than a little dumbstruck, "How many did she order?"

My grandfather's smile couldn't have been wider, "Just over sixty, enough to replace the entire mainline fleet. They should start showing up in about a month."





Just then I heard the sound of an immensely powerful engine pounding its way up the line behind me. I scrambled my way up the gravel bank to the top to catch sight of the train before it flew across the bridge.

I popped my head over the top of the hill to see a marvel of railway engineering racing toward me. It had been nearly twenty years since Princess Celestia had done the railway the favor of buying it a new set of engines. At the time, 4-8-2's and 4-8-4's had been the pinnacle of locomotive technology.

That of course had been twenty years ago, and demand leads to innovation, and the demand on railways had only increased in that time. So 8 drivers had turned to 10, and for bigger engines 10 turned to multiple sets of 6 or 8, but for one class of engine, 10 went to 12. And that engine was now flying towards me at nearly 60mph.

The Canterlot Pacific 9000 class 4-12-2.

Personally I preferred the locomotive the 9000 class replaced, and kinda stole their design from, but the twenty-four wheeled monsters were an impressive piece of engineering none the less. They were easily capable of taking a two mile long train over The Olde Grade on their own, and make it almost the entire way to Vanhoover or Tall Tale only having to stop once for a top up on coal and water.

The one flying down the track toward me was one of the first members of the class, #9007, delivered just over a year earlier. Yet, despite the fact that it, along with it's other 17 class members designated for Tall Tale had been delivered 10 months earlier, they looked as if they had been around for five years.

Ever since those stupid noble ponies in Canterlot took over the railway, everything had gone down hill. The freight engines over the entire roster were in terrible shape, ever since the "Only regular maintenance for passenger engines" policy went into place. Now, the only time freight engines went into the shop was when they were on the verge of blowing up. 

My anger for the railway's owner's died in the back of my head when I heard the engine's whistle blast. In a very specific way.

It was something that very few of us used anymore out of fear. But some of us were stubborn enough to still use it. It was the whistle of the Railwaymen, somewhat of an identifier between guild members.

As the engine drew closer, I looked to the cab. There were only a few ponies I knew on the railway that still dared to use the Guild whistle, and I knew them all.

As the front truck grew within 100 feet of me, I saw a grey head pop out of the cab, and smile when it caught sight me. "Heeeeeey Stokeeeeeey!" I barely heard it call over the sound of the engine.

I smiled as I was able to make out who it was just as they flew past. It was my good friend Crankshaft, a fire pony and one of my old high school friends. I knew that if he was firing the engine, that over on the right side driving the beast was another one of my high school friends, Blastpipe. Though Blastpipe was the designated engineer for a different fire pony on the line, he had been working with Crackshaft for the last week or so as Ash Pan, his normal fire pony, had been stuck on yard shunter training duties.

As they blasted across the bridge, I noticed something. As the engine ran over the center section of the bridge, 120 feet from the bank, the engine rocked to left slightly. But more than normal.

Once the train was over the bridge, I walked out onto it to the bridge to check figure out what was going on. When I got out to where I had seen the train rock, and was shocked by what I saw. The left rail had slightly sunk into the beams of the bridge, which were starting to rot out. 

I then heard the bark of an engine coming up behind me, another train that must have been waiting on the Vanhoover side of The Grade for #9007 to pass. I could just see off in the distance the headlight of the locomotive. It might have still been miles away, but on the straight flats of the summit, trains could be heard at the opposite hill crest.

I quickly made my way off the bridge and waited for the train at the track side. The engine was an older 4-8-2 heavy freight engine that leaked steam and creaked in places that it really shouldn't have been as it past by me.

I stood at the track side as the train slowly rumbled past me, waiting to see of there was an open boxcar for me to hitch a ride back in. As the middle of the train trundled past me, I heard a load whistle behind me over the sound of the train axles. 

I turned to see a pony leaning out of the open door of a box car waving to me. I smiled as I recognized who the stallion was, it was my fire stallion, Coal Dust.

The train was still going under 15 mph when the box car passed me, so I grabbed Coal Dust's outstretched hoof and swung myself into the box car.

"What's going Dusty?"

The dark blue and dirty grey stallion smiled at me, "Oh just coming back from meeting up with some friends on the Vanhoover side. I take it you were enjoying your day off at the bridge?"

I nodded at him, "Yeah. It's been a while since I've been able to get out here, so I took advantage of it." 

Coal Dust just smiled as we sat back and enjoyed our ride back to Tall Tale, listening to the distant sound of the locomotive as it pulled us home.
> Chapter 2: Things always start with a bang
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

About two hours later, we made it back to the yard. While Coal Dust made his way toward the local diner to get some food before heading to the bunk houses, I turned in the direction of the yard's main dispatch office to bring up what I saw at the bridge.

I walked in to see the place near deserted. I knew it would be like that this late, but I also knew that the pony I wanted to talk to was there. I made a beeline for his desk.

“Hello Mr. Hard Ass.”

Files, or Mr. Hard Ass to as I liked to jokingly call him sometimes, was one of the only true friends I had in dispatch, and often helped me with problems I saw on the line since he had contact with the decision makers in Canterlot. His father had also been good friends with Hotbox, and followed the same "rules" that I did.

“Well hello to you too Stokey. To what do I owe the pleasure.”  He said back with a knowing smirk.

I just smiled back at him, “What, I can’t just stop by and say hi to one of my friends?” 

Files shot me a oh-really grin, “Really.” 

I put my hooves up in defeat, “Alright, you got me. I got something you got to bring up with management again.” 

Files just rolled his eyes, then laughed, “I’m messing with you Stokes, what do you need taken care of?” 

I did my best not to laugh. That was Files for you, he'll play games with you till you're ready to pull your mane out, but will always come back to seriousness and help out a friend.

“The bridge up on the Old Grade summit isn’t looking too good. The outside rail near the middle of the bridge has sunk into the ties. At the worst point, the rail is almost flush with the beams.” 

Files just looked back at me shocked, “Well, I guess that should be taken up with management. I’ll let them know tomorrow.” 

I gave Files a smile, “Thanks Files, see you tomorrow.” He waved as I walked out, “Later Stokey.”

I walked out of dispatch and down the road to the railway bunk houses. I had spent my life in the bunks since I was 18 and started work on the railway properly. It had been a long day and I was dead tired and just wanted some sleep at that point.

By the time I got to my bunk, it was just before 9 at night and the sun had gone down. I walked into my room, shut the door, and fell onto my bed. I had been up since seven that morning taking care of a couple early morning local freights before I got the rest of the day off. Within a few minutes of hitting my old abused mattress, I was out cold.





I was woken up by shaking of my foreleg courtesy of one of the Call Colts. "Sorry Stokes, shit shift's on you today." 

I groaned and looked at the clock on the wall next to me to see it reading 2 in the morning as the Call Colt walked out of my room. 

Shit shift was the nickname we gave to the longest shift of the day, 3:30 to 12 in the morning the next day. We all hated working shit shift, which is why it was on a rotational schedule spread across all hoofplate crews. It had been nearly two months since I had worked it.

I really didn't want to get up, but, eventually, I rolled out of bed and got on my old denims and engineer's cap and made my way out onto the road leading toward the railway. It was near pitch black out as I walked along the empty road, but I wasn't alone for long. I once again heard a familiar whistle come from behind me, turning my head I could just make out the shape Coal Dust coming up behind me.

"Hey Dusty, you ready for this."

"Oh hell no, I hate working shit shift. And don't try to tell me you do." He said as he caught up with me.

I just laughed, "No, I'm not exactly a fan either. I may not be looking forward to this, but not much complaining will do about it."

He only nodded, before falling silent leaving us listening to only the distant sounds of shunters.

We took a turn away from the railway down a little side road toward the only lit building on the street. A coffee shop ran by and old railway engineer who had worked his fair share of long shifts in his day.

We walked in and the bell over the door chimed. Barely a second later an older, tan stallion popped his head in from the back room. "Well well Stokes and Dusty, stuck with shit shift are you?"

"Yeah, so we're gonna need two of the usuals, extra espresso."

The old stallion nodded before disappearing into the back of the shop again. 

"Hey Stokes, over here."

We turned to see Blastpipe and Crankshaft sitting at one of the booths already drinking their own coffee. 

"Hey Crankshaft, Blastpipe, what are you two doing up so early?" I asked as we took a seat at their booth.

Blastpipe sighed, "We have to take the early morning commuter, have to be in Hanhoover by 4, and head out of the grade by 5, and in Vanhoover by 8."

"Damn, 172 miles in three hours. management is really starting to tighten up on those passenger time tables." Coal Dust said as two cups of coffee were set on the table in front of us.

"Thank's Wood Reefer. Put this on my tab, I don't get paid till Monday." I said as I took a sip from the cup in front of me.

The old tan stallion smiled, "Can do Stokes." he said before walking away.

Blastpipe took a drag from his own coffee before returning to the conversation. "Yeah the scheduling is brutal, but the Canterlot High-up's gave us a break for once."

The look on our faces was probably priceless.

Crankshaft laughed, "Yeah that's what we looked like when we heard, but Canterlot gave the flats between Hoovington and Tall Tale a max speed of 95mph."

Again, me and Coal Dust were dumbstruck. That section of track had been at a max speed of 70mph for passengers ever since the Canterlot take over.

"Can any of the current roster even do 95?"

Blastpipe and Crankshaft looked at each other, "Well some of those new 4-8-4 Hudsons might with a lot coaxing. But as far as I'm concerned there was only one engine we ever had capable of 95 or higher."

"But management would never let us use those engines anymore, even though I don't understand why." Crankshaft added as he chugged the last of his coffee.

We all nodded, very few of us tried to understand the decisions the new management made, and the ones who did usually didn't get very far. "Who knows with them." I said, again drinking my coffee.

We chatted for a little bit longer before me and Dusty knew we needed to leave. Blastpipe and Crankshaft decided to come with and spend some time in dispatch before their shift started.

The four of us walked in to see dispatch still mostly deserted except for the few ponies needed to run the graveyard shift. I was about to head over to the board to see what my orders were when Files turned a corner and nearly bumped into us.

"Ah Stokey, just the stallion I was looking for." He reached into his saddlebags and pulled out a clipboard, "I had a feeling I would run into while I was leaving." 

I took the clipboard from him while he walked past me toward the door, "Later Stokes." He called over his shoulder.

I waved to him before turning my attention back to the clipboard in my hooves, as Crankshaft and Blastpipe walked of in the direction of the break room. 

"Alright let's see what we got today." I muttered as I gave the papers a quick look over. "We have a 275 sitting in D 16, and our engine is an Appaloosan and Southern AC-9 number 3800. She'll be waiting in Shed 2-18."

Now, I understand that for even those out there who know railroads, that sounds like I'm speaking swahili, so I'll break it down quick. We had to pick up a train that was 2.75 miles long out of the 16th siding of the fourth area of the freight yard. Our locomotive was a 2-8-8-4 articulated mixed traffic engine, which also happened to be the first member of her class. We have five 30 bay roundhouse in Tall Tale, and she was in bay 18 of the second one. Now that that's all clear, back to us. 

Coal Dust snorted, "First member of the class huh, this ought to be interesting."

I nodded as I placed the clipboard on my back, and started to walk toward the back door of dispatch which lead out into the yard, Coal Dust following close behind.

As we got over to the yard door, I glanced out the windows overlooking the nearby incoming tracks, and watched the columns of smoke rise up from the stacks of multiple yard switchers moving cars around and assembling the first trains of the day. I then turned my eyes to the sky, my muzzle fading into a frown as I watched the stars slowly disappear behind a black mass that I knew were storm clouds.

"Dusty." I called over my shoulder as I continued to stare at the sky, "Can you check the weather chart and see what the weather team said was rolling in the morning?"

I heard hooves move behind me as Coal Dust did what I had asked. There were a few seconds of silence before a loud slam tore through the room, and Coal Dust started to swear up a storm. "Celestia damn it! Those mother bucking winged rats screwed us!"

"Whoa Dusty, chill, what's going on?"

He came storming up next to me, "Those idiots who are supposedly in charge of the weather couldn't keep control of one of their storm and it mixed with the one already brewing over the Grade. So now, the mother of all storms is descending on the Grade. It'll be at full strength in like two hours."

Now there is something you all need to understand about the Smokey Mountains. Being the tallest mountain range in Equestria, they had their own weather patterns that the Pegasi chose not to mess with. Dusty had said that it was similar to this place near his home town called the Everfree Forest, but I was just going off of what he had told me. Anyways, these storms on their own could be some of the worst seen in all of Equestria, taking one of those and mixing it with even another minor storm, was a recipe for disaster.

I was shocked, the weather ponies had screwed up bad before, but this was the worst I had seen in a hot minute, "How bad is full strength?"

Coal Dust shook his head, "It'll be the worst storm the mountain has seen it 19 years, since that one storm when we were kids."

"Wait, how do we know any of this? They couldn't have known this five days ago when they sent out the weather report."

I got a grunt in response, "They sent a messenger an hour ago."

As if on que, a thick bolt of lightning streaked across the yard, brightly lighting up the the night sky, closely followed by a loud roll of thunder.

I looked back out the door and off in the direction of the roundhouses, "Well, there's nothing much we can do. Might as well get to work and hope they close the line before we leave the yard."

Coal Dust, again, only grunted, but followed me as I walked out the door and off towards the roundhouses.

The Olde Grade being closed due to weather was a pretty common occurrence, especially in winter. Considering how bad the storms could get and the fact the tracks were carved into the edge of a mountain, poor visibility could quickly lead to a nasty wreck. I had a feeling The Grade would be closed, I just didn't want to wait out the storm out on the mountain side.

As we trotted out of dispatch and over the incoming and bypass tracks, one of the shunters putting together the morning trains rolled up next to us. They needed to pass by the roundhouses to grab a string of cars, and offered us a ride over, one we were happy to accept. 

Hopping off the shunter as it slowly rolled by the sheds, we quickly made our way into the nearly full roundhouse, spotting our engine sitting near the middle between a beaten local freight 2-6-0, and a similarly battered 4-8-2.

As we worked out way over to the sleeping engine Dusty grabbed a few oil covered rags out of a bucket for use in getting the fire going. Fire lighters weren't paid to wake up that early anymore, not that it mattered much as all the railway’s fireponies had all learned how to start and build the fires in varying locomotives during their initial training, it was just one more thing we had to worry about at the start of our long day.

I started to give the engine a look over while Coal Dust pulled himself into the cab to get the fire lit. I could hear him complaining about something to do with the cab’s roof, and as I passed the rear wheel set, I joined him in complaining.

"Sweet Celestia! The hell are they doing over there in Appaloosa!"

"What's the matter Stokes?" Coal Dust asked, leaning out of the cab.

I cast a glance back towards him, "Come down here and take a look at this."

So Dusty climbed back out of the cab and soon joined me, staring in disbelief at the rear driving wheel set.

"How did they even get this thing here?" Was all he could see.

Now to explain what had us so shocked, I have to explain locomotive design and maintenance slightly. The drive wheels of a steam locomotive are not one solid piece. There is the main wheel which the drive rods are attached to, and then there's the wheel's tire. A tire for a locomotive is just a strip of metal on the outside of the wheel that makes contact with the rail. It's done this way so the tire can be replaced when it's worn down by friction of the rail instead of replacing the entire wheel. The tires on the rear wheel set of the AC-9 were so worn that I couldn't believe that they were even able to grip the rails.

I couldn't help but facehoof, "I can tell already this is gonna be a fun day."

Coal Dust didn't say anything, only grumbling as he turned and climbed back into the cab. I finished up my walk around, only noting a strange wear pattern on the back of the rear left cylinder, before I joined him, waiting for the boiler pressure to build up.

About forty minutes later, we were ready to roll. By now it was nearly four in the morning, and roundhouse workers, greasers, fire lighters, and cleaners alike, started to file in. I blew the big engine's whistle, which startled two of the roundhouse crew who had been in front of the engine, but they quickly recovered and opened the tall doors that lead out to the turntable. 

With the doors open, and the turntable set soon after, I pushed the reverser forward, and slowly eased the regulator open. I didn't get to pull engines out of the roundhouse often, as I was usually the second or third, or twelfth pony to use them. But I always loved it when I got the chance. The sound that came from the locomotive's bark reverberating around the interior of the immense engine shed was music to my ears. 

I listened as steam filled the cylinders, and slowly, the wheels began to turn. I pulled the regulator further towards me as we started to roll towards the table. Just as I cracked past quarter throttle, the engine began to shake, and the unmistakable sound of the rear drivers slipping filled the roundhouse.

"Son of a." I banged my head against the bulkhead while I closed the regulator. "This is gonna be a long damn day."

Coal Dust once again didn't say anything, he just sat in silence with a grimace on his face as I lined ourselves up on the turntable and got pointed towards the coaling tower. As we grew closer to the multi story brick tower, Coal Dust started to climb onto the tender.

“Remember, full coal and water, and check on the sand, I have a feeling we’re gonna need every bit we can pack in there.” I called over my shoulder.

Coal Dust only nodded as he climbed onto the top of the tender, calling out the distance to the coal chute, “70, 60, 50, 40, 30, brakes, good enough.” 

I heard the coal chute clank down to the tender opening, and seconds later I heard and felt coal begin to rush into the tender. So I sat there, on the plank that made up my seat, looking out the window at the growing grey sky. In moments like that, I just let my mind wonder, and often times I found myself thinking back to the years before the railway was run by business ponies in Canterlot. Back when it was ran by ponies who understood the railway pony life.

Ditchlight, Bulkhead, and Highball, the railway’s original owners and the ones that started the company, were some of the best ponies to work with. They may not have had any railroading experience when the company was started, next to nopony did at the time as railroads were still a new idea back then. But what they did have, was an understanding of the dangers of heavy machinery, and a respect for the ponies who were willing to work so closely with them. They say a need our extremely small town at the time had, and how a railroad could be the exact solution to said problem. 

Thus the Tall Tale Mountain Short Line was born. 

Originally, the line only ran between Tall Tale and Hoofington, but within a year and a half, tracks were being laid over the mountain towards Vanhoover, finally connecting the two hubs of commerce with a safe and quick route through the steep and rugged peaks of the Smokey Mountains.

I was then smacked back to the reality courtesy of at hoof to the back of my head, “Stokes, you still in there? I’ve been yellin at ya to move us forward so I can fill the sand dome.”

“Yeah Yeah I’m on it.” I said as I released the brakes and slowly eased open the regulator. Luckily, in the three seconds it took to move forwards 25 feet to the sanding tower, the rear wheels stayed hooked to the rails. It didn’t take long to top off the sand, and soon enough we had run back and been turned towards the yard, all the switches already set for us thanks to yard control in the tower attached to dispatch.

With a heavy clang, I coupled us up to our train, and sat there waiting for the signal to drop and give us the right of way. While we sat there waiting, a yard switcher came to a stop next to us. 

I couldn't help but always find it a little funny that the top of the switcher’s roof barely came up past the bottom of the window sill of heavy mainline freight engines like the AC-9. “What can I do for you kid?” I asked

The young engineer looked up to me, “Word just came in, the storm’s in full swing up on the grade. Between the fog and the rain coming down, visibility would be down to about the end of your boiler.”

I was completely taken aback. If the storm was that bad, there was no way management could run trains over The Grade. If they did, it would be almost guaranteed to lead to death. “So I take it Management is closing the line?”

“No, they just dropped the speed limit on The Grade to 30 mph.”

When I heard that, I was about ready to say, “You know what, screw this.” and walk away and never come back. But instead I took a deep breath and settled myself. The first thing that my grandfather had ever taught was you ran the trains. No matter the weather, and no matter what your instincts told you, you ran the trains.

In hindsight, that was a very dangerous, deadly, and idiotic way to think when applied to this situation. He didn't have enough time to teach me to also use my own judgement when applying that thinking I guess.

I looked up toward the mountains just as the signal for our line dropped to green, their summits hidden behind the black clouds. ”It can’t be that bad if they’re still sending us out, right?” I said to myself as I reached for the regulator and gently eased it open.





”I was right, it’s not that bad, it’s worse.”

We had been running for about an hour when we had started to charge into the storm. The rain was coming down like in a sheet so thick that with the engine’s headlight on I could see about 10 feet in front of the end of the cowcatcher. Without the light, I could barely see past the smokebox door.

“This is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve seen in a long damn time!" Coal Dust yelled to me over the sound of the engine and the pelting rain. I turned to him to speak, only to have rain fall into my eye through one of the holes in the engine’s roof.

I just turned back to my controls and checked them as we continued to climb up into the mountain, and into the eye of the storm. I pushed the sander to full, dumping as much sand on the rails as the engine could, it was the only thing that was keeping us moving at this point.

This was quickly turning into the run from hell. I had to be very careful with how I moved the throttle to make sure the engine behaved itself. Luckily, the rear wheel set had only slipped once on the run so far, so I had it easy. Dusty on the other hoof had the hard job. Besides the fact that he had to hoof fire the hungry heavy freight engine, he had to keep a very close eye on the boiler water level, since it had a tendency to severely drop out of nowhere.

But, thankfully, after another two hours pounding through the storm at the 30 mph, we were nearly at the summit. By now it was almost 7 in the morning, and we could see the rising sun trying to break through the thick clouds covering the summit.

“I can’t believe it, we’re actually gonna make it!” Coal Dust called as it seemed like we were soon going to be on “easy street”.

Just as the green signal at the summit came into view, the rear wheel set slipped for the third time during the climb. I rolled my eyes and went to pull back the regulator when a strange sound started to come from the left side. “What the?”

The sentence barely left my mouth when the left side of the cab erupted in an explosion of steam, wood, metal, and glass. The locomotive lurched right as the rear drive wheels locked up and skidded hard along the sand and rain covered rails.

I used one of my forehooves to shield my eyes from the explosion, while I used the other to shut the regulator and fully apply the brakes. The front drive set locked up too, but after half a minute of skidding, the engine came to an abrupt, jerky, stop.

I removed my leg from in front of my eyes and looked myself over. I was covered in a series of small cuts from splitter wood and shattered glass, but all in all, I was ok. As I looked back over the top of the tender to see if any of the cars visible through the storm had derailed from the hard stop, I called over to Coal Dust, “Hey Dusty, you alright?”

I was only greeted by a low groan.

I turned back to my left to see a gaping hole in the cab where Coal Dust’s window and the front left wall should have been, and what looked like one of the locomotive’s tires sticking out of the engine’s roof. Dusty had been launched off the seat he had been taking a break on, and was now sprawled out across the gap plate that covered the distance between the engine and the tender, bleeding.

I rushed over to him and looked over his body. His head was bleeding from a nasty looking gash, and the rest of his body was covered in cuts from the glass of what was once the window sat in front of him.

“Dusty, Dusty can you hear me!” I called as I stood over him.

He coughed a little before groaning again, “Stokes stop yelling. My head already hurts enough.”

I helped lean him up and set him against the wall behind his seat. “You okay?” I asked, even though I knew it was a stupid question.

He didn’t say anything for a while, he just brought a hoof to his head and held it over the gash I had seen, “Yeah I’m good. I just got one hell of a headache.”

It was then he looked up and saw the metal tire sticking out of the roof over his seat, “And that probably explains why.”

I sat down across the cab from him and stared out at the heavily falling rain. “We are in a hell of a tight spot.”

“You can say that again.” Dusty said as he removed his hoof from his head and saw that his normally dark blue hoof had been turned a reddish-purple, his dirty grey mane was slowly beginning to turn red in the spot where his hoof had once been. 

He put his hoof back on his head before speaking again. “We’re stuck out on the main in some of the worst weather in years, with an engine that can’t move.”

“And you're bleeding out.” I stated.

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah that too I guess. So, you got any ideas?”

I looked out to the storm again. I knew that we had only barely passed the signal I had seen before the explosion, as I was able to see it behind us when I checked for derailmets. I had an idea, but I didn’t like what it involved doing.

“You think you could hold tight for a bit?” I asked, getting up and trotting over to him. 

He closed his eyes then responded, “Yeah I should be good, why?”

“I'm gonna walk up to the summit signal box.” 

Dusty’s eyes snapped open and he stared at me, “Stokes, the summit box is still like two miles away. And in this weather you’d barely be able to see the ground ahead of you. You'll just walk straight off the side of the mountain!”

I sighed as I again looked out at the storm, which had seemed to only get worse. “I'll walk between the rails to make sure I keep my bearings. It's the only option we got right now. I'll be back as quick as I can.” 

Dusty knew better than to argue with me when I set my mind to something like this, so he just closed his eyes and mumbled, “Just don't get yourself killed.”

With that said, I nodded to him before I stepped out the cab, onto the ladder, and set myself on the ground. 

It took all of three seconds for me to become soaked through. I grumbled, but set my resolve and started to walk. I made it all of a foot and a half before I stopped next to the left rear drive set. 

Sure enough the second wheel in the line of four was missing its tire. On top of that, the cylinder that ran that wheel set was wrecked. Part of the back was missing, blown out right at the wear line I had seen earlier. 

I couldn't stop from shaking my head, disappointed in myself for letting something like that slide, and started walking again. I passed the front of the locomotive soon after, then another ten feet later the beam from #3800's headlight was no longer providing me any additional visibility.

I was on my own. 

The walk up to the signal box took about half an hour, and it was one of the worse half hours of my life. The rain stung and cut into me like tiny razors, and it seemed to have been coming from every direction. I could barely see a thing, the rails being the only object that kept me from walking off the side of the mountain just as I had expected. But finally, I saw the faded lights of the signal box off in the distance. 

I ran to it as if it was an oasis in a desert and up the steps leading up to the main box before pounding on the door, which opened a second later. 

The signal pony, Hazard, gasped when he saw me on the other side. 

“H-hey Hazard, m-m-ind if I, c-come in?” I asked. My voice, like the rest of my body, shook from how cold and wet I had become. 

Hazard, who was still slightly in shock spoke quick, “Do I mind? Get your soaked flank in here before this storm kills you.”

I was thankful when he stepped aside and let me inside the signal box, sighing in bliss as its warmth immediately hit me. The box was heated by a wooden stove, one I eagerly sat myself in front of. 

Hazard was quick to slam the door shut once I made it in, before taking a seat across from me next to all the levers used to operate the signals and switches in his section of the line. “Now I have to ask, why are you walking in this storm? Where’s your train? And where’s Coal Dust?”

“Engine threw a tire into the cab. Wrecked the whole rear driver set and left side of the engine. Tire gave Dusty a love tap to the head, left him with a pretty good gash for his troubles. So we’re stranded back down the line about fifty feet past the northbound signal.”

Hazard had paled at hearing Coal Dust was hurt. “Is Coal going to be ok?”

I shrugged, “Couldn't tell you right now. His head got hit pretty good, the bleeding isn't much better.”

Hazard put a hoof to his head, “This isn't good. Management closed the line over an hour ago, they won't let a single engine leave the yard because of the storm. But, I'll see what I can do. Maybe since this is a life and death situation they'll send something up. As far as I know, you're the only train on The Grade.”

”Great, just what I wanted to hear” I said to myself. We were on our own, for Celestia knew how long. This was just turning into one of those days.

Hazard typed out a telegraph to Tall Tale, which was answered soon after. He read it over and sighed, “I was right, they won’t send out an engine till the storm passes.”

“Well that’s just great.” I said as I leaned back against one of the box’s walls. As I did, I saw the clock perched on his wall, it was nearly 9 in the morning.

I jumped up off the floor, “Shit! I need get back and check on Dusty.”

I went for the door, but Hazard stopped me. “Hold up Stokey.” He then walked over to the corner where his jacket was lying, and grabbed it, along with the first aid kid that every signal box had. He hoofed both to me, “That'll at least keep you somewhat dry, and you'll need that for Coal Dust.” 

I smiled as I put the jacket on my somewhat dry body. As I did, he spoke again, “Oh and take my speeder. It'll get you back quicker than having to walk back in this mess. Just bring it back before 5.”

Again, I smiled, “Can do. Thanks a lot Hazard.”

The orange on orange signal pony returned my smile, “Not a problem Stokey. Now get out of here and go make sure Coal Dust is still alive.”

With that, I was out the door and back into the storm. 

I was wet again in seconds, but the jacket Hazard had given me meant I was able to stay at least a little drier than I had on the way up. 

I walked over to the speeder sitting in the little siding that came off the main line set aside for the signal box.

Now for all you kiddies at home who aren’t railway inclined, which I don’t understand why’d you still be here, but I’m not complaining, a speeder is just a little motorized wooden cart that the signal ponies used to get to and from their boxes. Usually to get up, they just hooked a stream of them to the back of a freight train, and would uncouple themselves, while the train was at speed, and then would trade places with the signal pony there, and run their 12 hour shift.

I climbed into the soaked seat and uncovered the tiny engine, starting it up. I heard a clunk as the switches in front of me aligned with the main line. I looked up to the tower and could just make out Hazard smiling down at me. I smiled back before I trundled out onto the line, and gave the speeder everything it had.

It took me about 10 minutes to get back to the #3800. As I got closer, I noticed that the steam powered head light was dimmer compared to when I left. That meant the steam generator was dying, which could only mean that Coal Dust had dumped the fire at some point while I was gone.

I climbed out of the speeder and hurried over to the cab, pulling myself back up as quick as I could on the slippery steps, “Hey Dusty, you still with me up there?” I called.

As I popped my head over the cab floor, I saw Dusty sitting against the cab wall, with a weak smile on his face. “Yeah. I’m not dead yet.” He said just as weakly, I could tell he wasn’t doing too good.

I climbed up the rest of the way, opening up the first aid kit so I could treat his wound to the best of my ability.

Dusty winced in pain as I poured some disinfectant onto the gash on his head, before he spoke again, “So what’s the plan Stokes?”

I sighed as I wrapped his head thickly with a roll of gawes, “There is none. Turns out we’re more screwed than we thought we were. Management pulled a Spotlight on us and closed The Grade just a little after we left. It looks like we're the only train on The Grade, and they won’t let any other engine out of the yard till the storm dies off.”

“Great.” Coal Dust groaned. It really was just not shaping up to be our day. So with nothing better to do, we just sat there in the cab, doing our best to stay warm and dry by the firebox hole, and listened as the storm raged on outside.

Nearly half an hour when by in relative silence, before it was broken by Coal Dust sighing, “You know somethin’ Stokes.”

“What?”

He shook his head, “A few years back, being an engineer for this line was the best job on this side of Canterlot. Heck, we were the biggest rail company in Equestria for a while back when we were in school.”

I chuckled solemnly with a half hearted grin on my face, I knew where he was coming from. When we were growing up, Tall Tale was one of the largest, and most unexpected, railway hubs in Equestria. It was hard to find a family in Tall Tale that wasn’t involved in the railway in one way or another. In our school, there were two groups of ponies, those who wanted to get as far away from the railway as possible, and those who wanted to run it. 

The latter outweighed the former by a far margin.

“Yeah I remember those days. Back when sitting in lunch involved seeing who’s dad or grandad had the craziest stories. I almost miss it sometimes”

Dusty just stared out at the storm behind me, “And now look at this place. In four years we’ve lost nearly half of the railway’s staff, the engines are being mistreated, and we’ve lost more crew’s in accidents than we have in the line’s whole history. I swear these Canterlot ponies are trying to destroy this railway.”

I shook my head, “The sad part is I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the truth anymore.”

"You weren't saying that when I was pointing it out two years ago."

"Things weren't this bad two years ago"

After that, we both fell silent, lost in thought. So there we sat, in that wreaked AC-9’s cab, as the storm raged on all around us. Soon enough, we both fell asleep.





I was woken up awhile later by the sound of an engine pounding up the line in the distance. I looked out the cab, the sun was shining, and the storm had slowed down to a sprinkle.

I then looked over to Dusty, who was still out cold. The bandages that I had wrapped his head in were stained now, and I was really starting to worry about him. Wit hope that rescue was finally on the way, I looked away from him and started to climb up onto the top of the tender to try and see where our rescue was. 

Now, I was usually able to guess the type of engine coming by the sound of its bark, or chuff, with near perfect accuracy. But the engine I heard pounding up the hill was something beyond me, yet it sounded familiar all the same. So I sat there on top of the tender and waited for it to pop out from around one of the mountain’s corners.

A few moments later, my answer popped out into the view about half a mile down the track from us, and I was actually shocked by what I saw. But once that shock wore off, I had the biggest grin on my face.

When T.T.M.S.L. was hitting the height of its growth, it was realized that even the new heavy 4-8-2 freight engines made specifically for heavy grades just didn’t have what it took to handle what The Olde Grade had to throw at them, mixed with the growing traffic demands of the time. So, Hotbox, along with Bulkhead, Ditchlight, and Highball got in contact with some friends they had made at Canterlot Locomotive Company, and drafted up plans for an engine specifically built to tackle the Tall Tale grades. What they produced became the centerpiece of the line’s freight traffic, the HG10.

The HG10 was a mix between a 2-10-4 Texan, and the 9000 class, even though neither of those classes hadn’t been built yet. They were 10 wheel engines specifically built for long freight hauls over The Grade. The HG stood for Heavy Grade, and the 10 went along with the ten, 58 inch drive wheels. But what made this engine the true king of the Tall Tale grades, were their cylinders, and boiler. 

The locomotives boasted a set of three high pressure cylinders measuring 34 inches in diameter with a 36 inch stroke, overly large cylinders by most railways standards. If that wasn't enough, this beast had three. Added to that, because of the sheer weight of the cylinder block, the engine had six leading wheels, being basically the only class of engine to use such a lead truck. 

Now, big cylinders mean nothing if they can’t be fed with enough steam. Typical 2-10-4’s ran a working boiler pressure of around 275 psi, and the 9000 class ran at around 220 psi. But, the builders of the HG10 gave the class an experimental high pressure boiler with a 415 psi working pressure. 

Because of all of this, these engines were able to produce around 380,000ilf of tractive effort. In lay pony terms, the most powerful locomotive class ever built, at that time. 

415 psi was a high demand for any engine, and it hadn't really worked before, reason why I said experimental. So to give the class the best chance of success, the CLC created a special new fire box called a "Quick Burn Firebox". These fire boxes were also experimental, and because of how they had to be designed, HG10's had to have a six wheel trailing truck to support all the weight. This meant the final wheel arrangement for the class was 6-10-6. 

The extra length needed firebox also forced the cab to be moved back, and since they wanted the rear truck under the center of the cab for balance it had to be moved back. This created an eight and a half foot gap between the last driving wheel and the trailing truck, which gave the engine a very odd look. 

Compounding that weird look were the engine’s tenders. Yes, plural, and there was a reason for this. Like I said, the quick burn firebox was an experimental design. Which, while able to create a large enough amount of steam to support the high pressure boiler, they weren't exactly as fuel efficient as a classic firebox design. 

So to make sure the engine had enough coal and water to actually be useful, all members of the class were permanently equipped with two tenders. One was specifically made for coal, and sat just behind the locomotive, capable of holding 70,000lbs of the black gold. Behind that was an identical tender that was made for water only, and could hold 50,000 gallons. 

In the end, the tenders put together were longer than the engine itself, completing the odd look trifecta.

But, despite the odd looks of the design, when in the hooves of an engineer that knew what they were doing, the HG10 could easily take a 300, or three mile long train, over The Grade at line speed, from Tall Tale to Vanhoover, on their own, and still have fuel to spare.

One of the HG10's was my main home and assigned engine back when we were still allowed to use them. They were always a spectacle to see and hear pound up and down the mountain, as Tall Tale was the only place that had them. For most railways, they were just too inefficient and fuel hungry, the heavy 4-8-2’s and 2-10-4’s could do the job just fine. 

But for Tall Tale, which boasted the two heaviest grades in all of Equestria, the HG10's were worth their weight in the gold they cost to run.

The HG10 that pulled up looked abysmal compared to what she would have looked like when the class rolled out of the shops 19 years ago. The boiler and cylinders were speckled with rust, her wheels creaked and groaned as they turned, it sounded and looked like the smoke box was clogged with ash, and you couldn’t tell where the original gloss black paint started and the built up grease ended.

As it pulled up next us, I saw the word main written over the number 9366 in smeared white chalk on her cabside.

I almost cried when I saw that. #9366 had been my baby back in the day, my main workhorse, my engine. She had seen me through the good and bad times of my first few years as an engineer, and had even helped me set a railway record when me, her, and a friend with another HG10 hauled a 650 over the line.

A whistle from the beaten engine’s cab snapped me out of my walk down memory lane. I glanced up to see the familiar face of Ash Pan smiling back at me from the other cab, “Got yourself into a bit of a bind did y’ah Stokes?”

A shallow grin formed on my face, “You could say that. Hey, they didn’t send you up with a doctor or somethin’ did they? Coal Dust’s in a pretty bad way.”

The smile that had been on Ash Pan’s face dropped away instantly when he heard that, “N-no. I wasn’t told anything about that. Is he alright?”

My eyes moved down to my right towards Dusty, who had surprisingly, and worryingly, not been woken up by the booming sound of the HG10. “He’s beaten up pretty good. The tire got him in the head when it came through the window.”

Ash pan didn’t say anything back to me, he just turned and yelled over the tenders to the locomotive that I was just now noticing coupled up behind 9366, “Bolt Shear! Get those torches up here now! Dusty’s hurt and we need to get this hunk of scrap ready to roll ASAP!”

A red earth pony jumped out of the other engine’s cab, and another pony lowered down a set of gas cutting torches to him. He then ran up to the rear drive set of the AC-9, lit the cutters, and set to work cutting through the destroyed drive rods so the rear set could roll free.

I watched the pony cut through the metal rods wishing the whole process would go faster, until another whistle pierced the air from Ash Pan, “Stokes, go unhook that hulk from the train. We already told your guard to set his brakes.”

I nodded, took one more look at Dusty, and then climbed out of the cab and opened the engine’s knuckle, releasing it from the train. While I had been doing that, Ash Pan’s firepony had uncoupled the HG10, and the mechanic pony had finished cutting through the first of the AC-9’s drive rods on the left side, and was working as quickly as he could.

I ran up to the front of the engine and jumped back in the speeder. I started it up, threw it in reverse, and raced up to the single track switch where Ash Pan would cross over to my line. I unhooked the signal box control cable, and manually flipped the track, just as Ash pulled up.

He bounded over the switch, threw the HG10 into reverse, and charged back down the half mile of line back to the AC-9. I proceeded to take the speeder the rest of the way back to Hazard’s signal box. 

When I got there, I explained everything as quickly as I could before I sprinted back toward the switch. I got there just as Ash Pan pulled up with #3800 hooked to the back of #9366. I flipped the switch again, reconnected the box cable, before I climbed into 3800’s cab. I sat down next to Coal Dust and lightly shook him. 

“Hey, hey, Dusty, you still with me?”

The blue stallion groaned before opening his eyes and looking up at me, “I'm feeling pretty rough, but I'm still here Stokes.”

I sighed in relief as we came to a stop ahead of the single track switch. “Hold on Dusty, you're gonna be fine.”

It didn't take long to roll back to where the train was, and couple up #3800 to the 2-6-2 yard goat #9366 had brought with her. As they readied the locomotives to move, I stayed in the cab with Coal Dust, planning to head back down to Tall Tale so I could keep an eye on him. That was until Ash Pan popped his head over the cab floor. “Stokes, you still in condition to drive?”

I was slightly confused by the question, “I can still run an engine, why?”

“‘Cause my firepony has to fire the yard goat back to Tall Tale. I can run the stoke system on the HG10 if you drive.”

I suddenly found myself with a tough choice. Stay with Dusty and stay loyal to my friends, or finish the run and be loyal to railway. 

That's when I felt someone tap my leg, it was Dusty. The wounded and weak blue stallion smiled up at me, “Go finish the run Stokes, I'll be alright. Go treat our old girl right.”

I stared at him stunned for a moment, before I nodded my head and climbed out of the cab. As I climbed up to #9366’s cab, I looked back when I heard the yard goat start to move, and caught sight of Dusty through the hole in the AC-9’s cab, staring back at me with a smile. Within no time, they were pounding away back towards Tall Tale.

I pulled myself into the cab of 9366 and sighed. It was like seeing an old friend. Everything was just how I remembered, only a lot dirtier. The bulkhead was covered in more white chalk and rust, the white chalk spelling out what different levers were for and where certain readings should be.

As Ash Pan climbed up on the other side of the cab, I turned to him and asked, “Where’d you pull this thing out of?”

He chuckled, “Funny story that. So management was going to send up a 4-8-2 to take the train the rest of the way. It was a little roughed up so I brought it over to the shop quick. Turns out the brake lines were shot and probably ready to give out. It was the only engine that wasn’t scheduled for a train with a burning fire, so we thought we might just have to risk it. That's when one of the shop ponies pointed to this ol' girl.” 

He banged his hoof on the backhead for emphasis. “Shop ponies had been using her as their main boiler for almost two years now. Just had it parked up on a old side track in the back with pipes connected to the cylinders. So we checked her over, found she was more rail-worthy than the 4-8-2, unchocked her wheels, and hauled ass up The Grade.”

That explained a lot. The markings were for back shop ponies who had never run one of these engines before. It also explained how a HG10 was still in drive-able condition without months of restoration.

Despite everything, I couldn't stop a slightly smug grin coming over my face, "Now how exactly did you talk your way into driving her up here?"

Ash Pan returned his own, even smuggler grin, "Easy, I was the only one around at the time that had any experience driving an HG10"

I chose not to question anymore. So instead, I pushed the reverser all the way forward, and lightly cracked open the regulator. I smiled as the engine began to move, even in her beaten state, the old girl could get moving the second the regulator was cracked a fraction of an inch.

In no time at all, we had swapped tracks and reversed down to the train. With a smack, we coupled up to the front of the train. As I climbed out of the cab to tie the air hoses together, I noticed something. “Hey Ash, the rain stopped.”

We had been so busy trying to get the engines switched and the destroyed AC-9 sent back to Tall Tale, we hadn’t even noticed. “Well I’ll be damned.” was all Ash said as I jumped down to the gravel.

I quickly made my way behind the tenders, and tied together the air brake hoses. When I was done, I turned and looked down the train, confirming my thoughts on the entire train still being on the line, thankfully.

I then made my way back to 9366’s cab and climbed back in. “You ready to go Ash?” I asked as I fully pulled myself into the engine’s cab. I watched as Ash Pan shut the auto-stoker off before turning to me, “Yeah, I’m ready to roll.”

With that, I once again set the reverser full forward, and cracked the regulator open. As I did, I opened the sander half way to allow the wheels to get grip on the wet, 1.5% inclined, rails. It took a little more power than before to get the engine moving, considering that it now had a nearly three mile long train on it’s back. But all said and done, the old girl got moving pretty easy.

In no time at all, we were going 20mph, and passing Hazard’s signal box, indicating that we had crested the Tall Tale part of The Grade, and were clear to fly onto the summit.

Normally that would have been when I gave the engine power to make up for lost time, but knowing what I did about the single track bridge, I kept the speed under 40mph until at least the engine had cleared the bridge.

As we bounced over the middle of the bridge, I felt the engine lean to the right as we rode over the bad piece of track. If Ash had felt the engine’s tilt, that he didn’t seem to care as he never spoke a word about it. Instead, we silently made our way toward Vanhoover. 

After another two hour of charging down the Vanhoover grades, and across the flats, we found ourselves on the outskirts of the Vanhoover yard. I slowly brought the train into a yard, before coming to a stop on the incoming track.

I turned to Ash, “You keep the fire going, I’m gonna see what the yard master wants us to do.”

Ash just waved his hoof at me as he leaned back in his seat, “Aye-aye skipper.” Was all he said a before he was out cold. That’s when I remembered that Ash pan been rostered as the replacement engineer for a late freight the night before, and he was probably exhausted. I reached over and opened the main injector. The boil pressure was gonna suffer, but at least the engine wouldn’t explode.

With that taken care of, I stepped down out of the cab and made my way over to the yard master’s office. Just as I reached my hoof towards the office’s door handle, I got the deep feeling that it was going to be a long day.
> Side Chapter 1: Heavy Haul
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

By Equestrian law, ponies were banned from joining the railway until they were 18, because of how dangerous the work environment was.

That, however, didn’t stop me.

With the help of Spotlight, and a lot of shushing when certain ponies were around the railway, I joined as a workshop aid at the age of 15, basically just a greaser. I was so happy when this happened, because there was a rule on the T.T.M.S.L., to become a hoof-plate worker, you had to first spend two years working in the roundhouse first. 

This was put into place to force ponies to learn how the engines operated, and the damage that could be caused when safety and respect was left back in the yard.

So I was happy when Ditchlight caved into his son and snuck me under the radar as a greaser. And the descent pay wasn’t a bad plus either.

A year later, Dusty was snuck in under that table with me, and we both worked together, starting as greasers and then working our way into the back shops. 

By the time we both hit 18, and “started” working for the railway in the shops, we were casting different connecting rods in the back shops. Which was a position that normally took two years itself to work up to, though no one seemed to ever connect the dots. 

I will say that I was a little annoyed that I still had to do my proper two years in the shops after the three I had already worked, but that was mostly just because I thought I had found a way to cheat the system and wasn't happy when I found out I was wrong. I did still have fun working as a back shop hoof for two years, but I was more then ready to hit the hoofplate when my time was up.

During the five years I spent working in the roundhouse, the one set of engines that always amazed me the most were the HG10’s. At the time I joined the railway workforce, the HG10’s were already seven years old, yet they were taken care of as if they were mares from Upper Canterlot. 

Being the pride of the lines freight traffic and all. 

Even when my time in the shops was drawing to a close, and I got closer and closer to the point where I could become an engineer, the HG10’s still looked and, according to engine crews, acted like they did when they first rolled off the assembly line. 

Apparently management had been paying attention to all the times I had been caught staring at, or requesting to work on, any HG10 that rolled into the shops. Let me tell you, when the day finally came where I was promoted to engineer and assigned an HG10, #9366, I actually thought it was a cruel prank.

My reason for thinking this was based on the fact that this was not normal. Usually engineers had to work their way up from yard shunters to even get a chance to run main line engines, let alone get put behind the controls of one of the most power engines ever built. I had a feeling that it had something to do with being the grandson to the line famous Hotbox, but Ditchlight never gave me a straight answer before he passed away years later. 

When I learned that Coal Dust had been assigned to be my fire-pony, I physically couldn’t stop smiling until the next morning. 

As I learned the line and how #9366 reacted to my inputs, and thus how I had to change me driving style to suit her, plus Dusty got his firing down, we began to quickly build a reputation. As a reputation that we could have anything put behind ol’ 66 and we’d find some way to get it over The Grade. 

This reputation, would soon after be put to the ultimate test. 

It was late summer, and the line’s busy season was in full swing. Added on to that, the week before there had been a disastrous fire in the factor sector of Canterlot, completely destroying a group of factories and foundries along with disintegrating multiple rows of worker housing. 

Thankfully there had been few injuries and all had been accounted for in the end. 

So on top of our normal rush freight, we also had miles and miles worth of cars sitting in our yards that had come from the overworked lumber yards along the Smokey Mountains, and coal mines and clay pits of the freshly returned Crystal Empire. 

It was absolute chaos for nearly a month, and it took less than a week for the side effects to start showing themselves along the entire line and among the whole freight roster. Even with all eighteen HG10’s we had running non-stop along with every other engine available, we couldn’t keep up with all the demands placed on the railway. It was just as much of a nightmare for the signaling and scheduling ponies to ensure traffic moved over the line as quick as possible, while keeping a safe distance between the trains and still allowing our regular services through.

The last three days of that first week, me and Dusty had been running #9366 up and down the line with nothing smaller than a 350 on her back, and the moment we dropped off one train, we'd turn, refuel, grease the rods, and hook up for our next. In total, Dusty and I had probably only gotten around five hours of sleep in our own beds between those three days, sneaking in little naps whenever we could while waiting in the yard. 

But I had never been happier. 

That had been what I joined the railway to do, sling trains up and down the line with a powerful engine at my beck and call, keeping the trains moving no matter what, even if that meant missing some sleep. 

Best days of my life. 

It was about seven in the evening in the middle of week two of the big rush, as I brought a load of empty hoppers to a stop on one of Vanhoover’s incoming tracks, ready to be shuttled back up to the Frozen North to be refilled. It was the seventh run we had done that day, and the two of us had been up for about twenty hours at that point.

#9366 had barely come to a stop when the yard master, Semaphore, jumped onto the hoofplate, “Stokes, Dusty, we need you and 66 now.” 

I was caught off guard by his sudden appearance, but I shook off the fatigue I was starting to feel and asked Semaphore, “What’s going on?” 

“We need you to haul a 650 up The Grade.” 

I was gobsmacked. I thought that they had gone crazy on Tuesday when they ordered me to haul a 475 up The Grade, which had been hard enough to get up the steep grades of Vanhoover, and that was with me breaking the speed limit on the flats. 

“Semaphore, I respect you, and you know that. But no offense, you've got to be mental if you think we can get a 650 up that two-nine near the summit. Besides, what's the point in us taking 650 instead of just breaking it up so we can actually get up the hill.” 

Semaphore sighed, “Under normal circumstances, I would break it up Stokes. But, you know as well as I do that The Grade is clogged with trains right now, and the yards are just as bad. If we broke that train up, it would deadlock us, and we’d be screwed.” 

I knew he had a point. But, for all the power she had, a 650 was just out of #9366’s capabilities. “As true as that may be Semaphore, it’s just not possible, and us stalling on The Grade would just deadlock everything anyway. We'd need a helper, and the only engine with enough power to be of any use is another HG10, and I know we don't have any spare ones just lying around.” 

Semaphore shook his head, “No, all the ones we have are either rostered for other trains, or in the shops because of the heavy use.” 

That’s when Semaphore’s eyes lit up, “Wait a second, in the shops! Smoke Box and Piston Rod are in the shops with #9329. The running gear was damaged when the roundhouse crew in Tall Tale didn’t grease it enough between runs. If you’re lucky, the shop crew might be done with it already.”

Semaphore had barely stopped speaking when I dropped down onto the gravel, “Come-on Dusty, we have no time to lose!” I yelled over my shoulder as I took off sprinting for the shops, with Coal Dust not far behind. 

We tore in and found Smoke Box and Piston Rod conveniently standing next to #9329, their HG10. They turned to us when they heard the door burst open behind them, “Stokes, Dusty, where’s the fire? I haven’t seen either of you run like that in years.” Piston Rod asked as we caught our breath. 

“Is 29 in working condition?” I asked, still slightly out of breath. 

Smokey and Piston looked at each other before returning their gaze to us. “Well yes and no. The milling machine they needed to replace the broken pins is down right now. They were able to jerry-rig something up so we could get to Tall Tale with a small train and have it properly fixed though.” Smoke Box stated. 

“Well what’s broken?” Dusty asked. I didn’t like what I was hearing. Having something like the running gear give out anywhere on the Vanhoover side of the grade was the last thing I needed to happen is we were going to have a 650 behind us. 

But, the probability of a failure changed depending on what was actually damaged. 

Smoke Box motioned for us to follow him and we rounded over to the other side of the locomotive. I could see that pins connecting the rods to the third wheel in the line, which is where the main rod connected to the drive rod, and the bell crank and valve rod were all showing signs of excessive friction and heat build up. 

In fact the main rod, a piece of high strength steel three inches thick and seven inches wide looked as if it was slightly bent!

“How in Celestia’s name did you bend the main rod?” I asked, astounded. 

Smoke Box rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof, “Full steam and slightly ceased pins didn't seem to mix well. When the shop ponies saw that, they pulled the cylinder apart to check the inner workings, and found a fatigue crack in the piston rod.” 

That felt like a punch to the gut. 

Heat ceased pins were one thing. A bent main rod wasn't too worrying, as long as you could squint your eyes till it seemed to look straight again. But a cracked piston rod, that was no joke. 

If the piston rod broke, it could leave the piston itself jammed inside the cylinder. If that happened the cylinder could easily explode due to built up pressure, severally diminishing the power #9329 had to offer and most definitely putting her out of action for at least two weeks

That's when Smoke turned to me, “Why do you ask?” 

It was now my turn to rub my neck, “They want us to take a 650 to Tall Tale.” 

The looks on Smoke Box’s and Piston Rod’s faces would have been priceless, it the severity of the situation hadn't been a factor. “The 10’s are powerful, but, that’s just insanity, you'll never make it up to the summit.” Piston Rod finally said. 

I nodded, “With one engine, sure, but two.......” 

Smoke Box immediately caught on, and eyebrow creased with concern, “I don’t know Stokes. They said to stay under a 200 with that piston and pins the way they are. Even with the both of us, that’s over three miles of train for each engines.” 

“I know. But we have to give it a shot, cause if we don’t, we’re screwed anyways. Sem already said that they wouldn't be trying to get me to take the train to begin with if not for the fact it would deadlock the yards.” 

"Come on Smoke, you know your mare over there has one more good run in her, lend us a hoof here. Besides, you're literally the only option we all have." Dusty added.

The two looked at each other, having a silent conversation between themselves for a few moments, before they turned back to us, “Alright Stokes, we’ll do it.” Smoke Box replied, with a little uneasy nod. I could help but to cracked a smile, “Let’s go make history.” I said as I stretched out my hoof.

Smoke Box couldn’t help himself, he broke into a grin and shook my outstretched hoof, while Piston Rod and Dusty shared a wide smirk. 

Less than a minute later we were in Semaphore’s office, “Alright, Smoke and Piston are in. Give us the lowdown.” 

Semaphore pulled out a clipboard from the piles of them on his desk, riffling through until he found the one with our orders, “You’re train is waiting in siding one, it was the only one long enough to fit the whole thing. The problem is Tall Tale has no room for it in their yard without breaking it up and deadlocking themselves, so they want you four to take it all the way to Canterlot.” 

That, made me feel like I had my head shut in a smoke box door. The run from Vanhoover to Canterlot at freight speed limit was a forty-two hour journey. I glanced over and saw that Smoke Box had a worried look on his face and Piston Rod had actually paled. 

An impressive feat for an already white stallion. 

“Take that train, all the way to Canterlot. Sem, I have no problem helping Stokes try and get it up The Grade, but 29 is still hurt. I don’t know if she’ll make it all the way to the summit, let alone all the way to Tall Tale. There's no way she's in any condition for a run all the way to Canterlot.” Smoke Box finally sputtered out. 

Semaphore sat there for a moment, thinking. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see if they can switch you out for another engine in Tall Tale. Hell, you might even get lucky and be able to kick the train over to the Appaloosan Sothern in Mustangia. But unless you get moving now, they’ll schedule everything for the morning trains.” 

We didn’t hesitate. As Smoke and Piston ran to get #9329 steamed up, Dusty and I went back to 9366, so we could pull off the train we had just brought in, and get prepped for the run. Within forty-five minutes, we had 66 and 29 coupled up to the front of enormous train. 

Even without the fading light of the sunset, I wouldn’t have been able to see the end of the train do to the shear length of it. 

But as I looked back at miles of ‘bathtub” gondola hoppers full of clay and coal, boxcars, tankers, and loaded flatcars of logs, I gulped. Three mile coal trains were some of the heaviest that we had to take over The Grade, and from the manifest, I had around four miles worth of coal sitting behind me when all was said and done. Add onto that over a mile of clay which wasn't exactly light either, and other mix of freight, I knew we were in for one hell of a fight to get up to the summit.

“Hey!” someone yelled from below me.

I looked down and saw Smoke Box holding a small walkie talkie, “Take this. Management picked up a few of these to help with these double header situations. They felt using these would be easier than using whistle codes.” 

I caught the walkie as Smoke tossed it up to my window, and was about to turn back to my controls when Smoke Box spoke up again, “Oh and Sem just let me in on something. Because of how, unusual, this run is, they aren’t going to let any other train up The Grade until we’re on Nightmare. So we won't have to worry about anypony sneaking up behind us on the big slog.” 

That made me feel a little better, even though it also made me feel like it defeated the purpose of us taking such a long train to easy congestion just a bit. Never the less, I nodded to Smoke as I hung the walkie off the document holder next to me, before turning to Coal Dust as he went over his gauges again. 

“How we looking Dusty?” 

“Everything is good, well by normal standards at least. This isn’t exactly normal is it though? I just don’t know what to expect.” 

I double checked his readings before adjusted a few valves on my side of the cab, “None of us do, we’re flying by the dock of our tails right now. Best we can do is prepare for the worst and hope for the best.” 

"More like that's the only thing we can do."

It was at moment the walkie cracked to life, ”We’re ready to roll when you are Stokes.” Smoke said.

I picked it up before hitting the button at the side, “Alright, we’re rollin. Take is easy as we get moving, last thing we need right now is a coupler stretching or tearing out of a car.”

"Roger." Was the simple reply I got back. 

I put it down before taking a deep breath, “Now or never.” I pulled the whistle cord and let out two long blasts to signal to Smoke Box to that I was releasing the brakes and to everypony around that we were about to start rolling out. 

Reaching forward and cracking the regulator slowly, I reached down with my free hoof to turn on the sand, the last thing we needed was to burn groves into the rails with wheel slip trying to get this overly heavy train moving. I opened up the regulator to the point where a train would normally start moving to pull the slack out of the couplers, only opening it further as I felt more and more weight pholding back against our engines.

I had opened the regulator more than double the amount I would normally have, and could tell by the tone of #9329 that Smoke had done the same, before the ground light at the end of the siding flashed four times, signaling that the entire train had began to move and all was good. 

We really got a feel the true weight of the train behind as as we pulled out of the yard, but as I brought the regulator up further to start gaining speed, I felt confident. We already had the train going 4 mph, and once we were out of the yard we had 10 miles to pick up speed before the start of The Grade. 

I picked up the walkie, “I'm going highball, need to build up as much speed as possible before we hit Moonlight.”

”Roger” Was again, all I got for a reply. 

I had, thankfully, gotten the chance to run double header a few times before, and with nearly a decade of experience on me, it was a simple fact Smoke Box had as well. Running double wasn't exactly a rare situation on our line thanks to the heavy gradients, however this was the first time HG-10's had run double header ever since they had been delivered. There was simply no point up until now.

The mountains loomed ahead of us with only three miles left before the start of the first climb. Things had gone well despite the challenges of our situation, and we had managed to accelerate up to 40 mph with our speed still slowly climbing. As we made it around the first of what would soon be many steep turns, I could see the first change in gradient at the start of The Olde Grade proper, a “gentle” 1.9% climb. As I watched the mountain grow closer, I thought about what was to come. 

We had our work cut out for us to pull this off, and we all knew it. 

The Olde Grade was brutal enough to climb on the Tall Tale side, but that end had nothing on the challenges that faced an engine crew on the Vanhoover side. Tall Tale was pretty much a "straight" 1.7-1.9% grade for 59 miles. Vanhoover may have only been a 40 mile climb, but the grades were much steeper. 

There were six main sections of the Vanhoover climb, the first was a three mile climb of a roughly 1.9% grade. This gave way to the second steepest and longest gradient on the whole line, an eleven mile climb at 2.5%, a section of track that had earned the nickname Moonlight Ledge. 

We then would get a bit of a break as the grade dropped back down to a 1.9% for another two miles, before being thrown up a 2.3% for eight miles, a climb known as Discord’s Drop due to the snaking nature of the track. It was probably the only place on the entire line we'd be able to see the caboose at the rear of our train.

We would then again get the luxury of a 1.9% for two more miles before the final push to the summit, and that was the piece of track that had all of us worried the most. The final climb was fourteen miles at a gradient of 2.9%, a piece of track that could only be properly described as an engineer’s nightmare. Kind of fitting that section of the line was known only by one name, The Nightmare. 

It could take an engineer years to master the climb out of Vanhoover with some of the heavier freight trains. But luckily for me, I had still had my trump card, #9366. These were the climbs she and her sisters had been built for, and it was time to show the mountain and all of Equis just what they were truly capable of. 

“You ready for a fight Smoke!” I yelled over the sound of 66 at the walkie as the point of no return came into view.

”You better believe it. Let's do this.” I heard him yell back. 

Seconds later we charged onto the first climb, and the real battle began. The bark of the engines grew louder as Smoke and I used the knowledge we had gained over our time of running the line to fight the grades trying to hold back the train. The first 1.9% climb thankfully didn’t do much to hold us back. We could really feel the weight of the train pulling on our engines now, but the two HG10’s were able to keep going without losing any speed. 

As we came took a corner and came around the edge of the mountain next to us, I caught sight of Moonlight Ledge for the first time that run. Moments later, we thundered onto the 2.5% grade at 45mph. 

Our work from here would only get harder as more of the train's weight was pulled onto the steeper piece of track, and it quickly showed in our speed. As we passed the 4 mile marker, we had already slowed down to 41 mph, with still another ten miles of 2.5% to go, not to mention the fact we still had to deal with the 2.9% near the summit. 

The the next twenty minutes were a hard fought battle of steam, metal, willpower, and knowledge, against weight, gravity, and friction. The timing of everything had to be near perfect between Dusty and I, more than usual, and in sync with Smoke and Piston to conserve as much speed as physically possible for the later parts of the climb.

But we had run double header together once before, if in smaller engines with a much lighter train behind us. But this at least meant we knew how to react to certain things, and how each other drove their engine. 

Thanks to this, despite the fact our speed dropped down to 27mph, we crested Moonlight Ledge and stepped down to the second 1.9%. As the miles worth of freight cars started to follow the engines onto the step down, we began to gain precious speed once again. 

With only one mile remaining on this piece of 1.9%, the walkie at my hooves cracked to life, ”Stokes, I’m a little worried about 29. That wounded cylinder is starting to let off a weird tone, and steam’s starting to leaking out of the bottom of the back plate. I don’t know how much longer it’s gonna last.”

That was among the list of things that I really did not want to hear at that moment. Turning to look back past the tenders of #9366 at the right cylinder of #9329 as we came around a corner, I was trying to spot the leak for myself to judge how bad it was. Sure enough, there was a small, but constant, steam cloud coming out of the back of the cylinder near the ground, just like Smoke Box had said. 

Looking back at the line ahead of us, to see Discord’s Drop coming into view, then up at the speedometer and saw that we had been able to climb up to 32mph, I ran through the situation as quickly as I in my head to form a plan. Looking back out at the next climb, I picked up the walkie, “I saw what you’re talking about, that cylinder is definitely leaking. Take it easy on the Drop. It's only a 2.3%, so if you give what you can and I give everything 9366 has, then I think we’ll be ok. Preserve that cylinder for the final battle.” 

I knew Smoke would understand what I meant. We still had to worry about The Nightmare, and if we lost 9329 on Discord Drop, their was no scenario that ended in us making it onto the summit.

"You sure 66 will be able to manage that without us loosing too much speed? The more momentum we have when we hit Nightmare, the better right?"

"Honestly, no. But getting up Nightmare will be completely out of the question if you loose that cylinder on Discord Drop. It's not a perfect solution, but its the best one we got."

”Roger that Stokes.” was the only thing I got for a reply. 

With that, I put down the walkie, and prepared for a fight. When we hit the beginning of Discord’s drop, I knew we would still have over three miles of train on Moonlight ledge, which mean I would have to fight against three different grades the 2.3, 1.9, and 2.5. 

I set my resolve, this was going to be the run of a lifetime whether we got to the summit or not. Looking over at Dusty to see how he was holding up, to find him completely engrossed in the readings on his gauges and adjusting the numerous controls he had to keep track of. I did just happened to catch the hint of worry in his eyes as ours met for just a moment before I focused back on my own controls, I'm sure he saw that same concern in mine, because I was definitely feeling it.

That was when we hit the Drop. 

I fought the forces of gravity with the brute strength the HG10 possessed as we climbed. Thankfully, it was easier to climb this grade than the 2.5. But without #9329 fully backing me up, it was still a loosing battle to keep going. 

Another 25 minutes later, we crested the top of Discord’s Drop, and slanted down onto the last 1.9 at 18mph. I really was not a fan of how slow the train had gotten by that point, but I had done everything in my power to maintain as much of it as I could, the weight of the train on one engine was simply too much for #9366 to overcome on her own

By now it had been nearly two and a half hours since we had left Vanhoover, and on any normal run, we’d already have made it over the summit and started down the other side of the mountain. But this scenario was far from normal, and our day was far from being over. By now, it had started to turn dark, and I clicked 66’s headlight on. The steam powered lamp shone brightly in the coming night, lighting up the night and reflecting off the steel rails of our final challenge 

I picked up the walkie again, “This is it Smoke, you ready?” 

”Yep. We built up a good head of steam on the Drop, feel if 29’s gonna fail, might as well go out going over the top.” 

The little laugh that left me was much appreciated to distract from the stress I was feeling at that moment, just like Smoke to turn a stressful situation comical. We made it over the 1.9 relatively quickly, or at least it felt like we did, and soon we were staring down the last thing left between us and the summit, Nightmare. 

The sight of the 2.9% grade made me gulp, this was going to be the real challenge of the run, one that would make or battles up Moonlight Ledge and Discord's Drop appear as if we had been running along flats. I glanced over to Coal Dust again, we had spoken barely a word to each other since we hit the first climb. The two of us often got like that when we were focused on getting up these steep climbs with heavy trains. “How’s things holding up over there Dusty?” I called over the impressive sound of the engine. 

“We’re doing ok, but with the way we’ve been fighting, I don’t think we’ll make it to Tall Tale with what we have in the tenders.” He said, pointing a hoof back at the opening to the coal tender and the gauge next to it that displayed the water level in the rear tender. 

Sure enough, we had already gone through over half our coal load, and squinting at the water level in the glass, the rear tender wasn’t doing much better. “We’ll have enough to get over the summit, we can stop Stareston and fuel up.” I stated as returned my attention to the line ahead

Stareston, was the strangely named logging facility on the Tall Tale side of the grade, about 14 miles off the summit. It was one of the places trains coming from the Vanhoover side of The Olde Grade would stop to refuel so they could make it the rest of the way to Tall Tale. 

On a normal day, we’d fly right past in #9366, as she was built to make the trip without having to stop for a top up. But, as I kept having to remind myself, this whole run was as far from our norm as one could get. 

Watching Nightmare loomed closer in the distance, I checked our speed again and cursed under my breath, we had only sped up to 24mph. Looking back up at the heavy grade again, I caught sight of a train coming down the other side. It was a passenger train, with a very distinct engine leading it. 

Now you see, the HG10’s had been such a big success, that 2 years after their delivery, management wanted a version made up for the line's express passenger services. The end product was the TT8 express locomotive. 

They used the same cab, cylinders, boiler, firebox, and tenders as the HG10, making them easy to work on for anyone who had driven or maintained a HG10. The only difference between the HG10 and the TT8, were the drive wheels. While the HG10 had a set of ten, 58 inch drivers, the TT8’s had eight monstrous 92 inch drive wheels. This is where the class name came from, standing for Tall Tall Eight Wheeler.

These wheels were the largest diameter drivers ever used on a locomotive of any type. The over seven foot tall wheels had a side effect of changing a lot of things to do with the locomotive, even though they were put on the same chassis as the HG10. For example, even with one less axle than the HG10, the wheel area of the TT8 was 16 feet larger than her freight hauling cousin, 64 feet to the HG10’s 48. Because of this, the frame of the locomotives had to be extended, which allowed the drive wheels to take more of the firebox weight compared to the HG-10's, meaning that a smaller rear truck could be used. Thus there were only four trailing wheels, and the eight foot gap of the HG10 was eliminated, leaving the TT8 with a final wheel arrangement of 6-8-4. 

The wide diameter drivers mixed with the cylinders off the HG-10's gave their passenger hauling cousins the highest top speed of any engine on the line. Honestly, we didn’t know the actual top speed of the TT8, the highest it had ever been clocked was 112mph, just a hair under the world wide speed record at the time of 119. But the engineer of that train had said her locomotive still had plenty left to give, but another good opportunity to find out had never really presented itself. 

The only downside to having the large wheels were they took a drastically bite out of the TT8’s tractive effort. While the HG10 was in the range of 380,000ilf, the TT8 had been measured to be just a hair under 240,000ilf. Despite this fact, the TT8 had no problem climbing The Grade with 24 heavy metal passenger cars. 

As this TT8 came closer, I was able to make out the number on the lit up display boards next to her headlight at the top of the smoke box, 9400, the first member of the class. I had to smile, and pulled on the whistle cord, sending out the distinct whistle of the Guild of Railwaymen across the vast night covered hills. 

The other engine replied back with a Guild whistle of her own as she drew closer still. That was one of the greatest sounds I ever had the chance to experience. Three HG10s, basically, thundering and barking through the hills of the Smokey's, sending out the Guild’s whistle. 

My attention was pulled to the cab of the TT8 as it drew closer. Everypony on the line knew that there was only one crew that was allowed touch the controls of that engine, Spotlight and Knuckle. 

Spotlight, the son of Ditchlight, and had been around the railway ever since it had been formed 50 years previous, and had been working on for the last 40 years. Even though he was getting on into his late fifties, and had started to take over control of the railway a few months earlier when his father started to have worsening health problem, along with the help of Bulkhead and Highball’s sons, Bulkhead junior and Big Red, he still ran trains. 

He felt that the only way to help the ponies of the railway was to work beside them, see what they see. 

As #9400 thundered past, Spotlight threw a piece of coal from his engine to ours, landing on our footplate with practiced ease and accuracy. Wrapped around the lump of coal was a note. Untying the note, I held it up towards one of the back lit gauges to read, Sorry we had to stick you with this Stokes. Good luck, you got this. 

I smiled, folding the note and placing it in my denim’s pocket as we approached Nightmare at 28mph. “Here we go!” I yelled as I adjusted a few of my controls and held onto the regulator tightly. 

And then we were on it. 

After learning their engine inside and out, an engineer develops the ability to feel what their train was doing through the vibrations in their seat. As we climbed further up onto the steep section of track, I could feel the train pulling more and more on the couplers of the engines, and the locomotives start to buck as they worked hard to keep moving.

“How you holding up back there Smoke?” I asked as we passed the 28 mile marker. 

”I’m getting a weird shake in the seat. I got a feeling this cylinder won’t last for too much longer, and it doesn't seem like our only problem now.” 

That was the last thing I wanted to hear. We still had twelve miles left to climb, and were already slowing down to 20mph. If I lost #9329, I knew there was no way #9366 would make it to the summit. 

“Don’t do anything stupid, I feel like getting home tonight.” 

”We’re already doing something stupid, but I'll do the best I can Stokes.” 

We climbed further and further up the 2.9% grade, but it was slow goings. By the time we had made it to the halfway point of Nightmare, we were only going 12mph. 

I was giving the old girl everything she had, and I could feel her shaking from it. It felt like the wheels were trying to break grip and slip, but with the amount of sand being laid down on the rails, it just wouldn’t happen. 

And she was not liking it, the train already being pulled down to 15 mph.

“Smoke box, I’m not liking the looks of this.” 

”Me either. You got a plan?” 

I sighed, “Go till we can’t. Who knows, miracles are a thing.” 

So we soldiered on into the night at a crawl, yet we continued to steadily make ground. An hour ticked past without any of us realizing, we were too preoccupied with our tasks. With every turn of our wheels I was waiting to hear the treasonous sound of the cylinder on #9329 giving up the ghost, I was waiting for it, but still we climb on.

Finally, nearly two hours after we started to climb up Nightmare, we passed mile marker 39, at 7mph. We only had one more mile to go.

“Smoke, we almost got this, how you holding up?” 

”I don’t know. It feels like this cylinder should have given out awhile ago. So who knows.” 

That was no less worrying than it had been at the start of the climb, I would have liked to know if I was gonna lose 29, but since we were so close to the top, I pushed it to the back of my mind. She had lasted this long and climbed this far, surly she could hold on just a little longer and make it onto the summit.

So we continued on at 7mph, up the final stretch of the Vanhoover side of The Grade. Around ten minutes later, I could see the summit in my headlight. I nearly cried seeing the drop down just ahead of us, “We did it Dusty!” I yelled over to Coal Dust, who just turned to me and said, “Was there ever any doubt.” with that fake all knowing tone, as if he hadn't been shitting bricks like the rest of us since the moment we left the yard. We shared a laugh as I reached down to pick up the walkie again. 

Just as I went to key the mic.....

BANG

I had heard cylinders blow before, but this was different. It was louder, a deeper boom, and I felt my engine actually shake because of it. Whipping my head back and stretching my neck to see around the tenders, I could steam billowing out of the bottom of the left cylinder at a frighteningly fast pace. I found it weird that the steam was coming more out of the bottom instead of the back, but I was more concerned with getting the train onto the summit. 

”Stokes! I can’t keep going, the boiler pressure won’t hold!” 

“Give it everything you still have, we have to get some of the train on the summit to take the strain off 66. After that, you can lay off and leave the rest to me.” 

”If you say so.” was all I heard in reply, a reply filled with worry and doubt. 

We had been lucky that #9329’s cylinder blew with an engine’s length left before the summit. As I rolled onto the flat that was the summit, the air calmed down, if only just, yet I knew we weren’t in the clear yet. Not by a longshot. The locos might have been on the flat, but we still had more than six miles of train left on Nightmare trying to drag us back down the mountain. 

I could feel the strain on the couplers and on the drivers of my engine, and we were barely able to stay moving. We were creeping along at barely three miles per hour, and I could hear 29 struggling to give me any help. I could feel 66 bucking as she gave me everything she had to drag a train too heavy for her up the steepest grade in all of Equestria. But I couldn't pull back on the throttle and give her a break, if I did we'd stall completely without a hope of getting moving again.

If I hadn’t been sweating before, I certainly was now. “Coal, how’s the boiler pressure holding up?” I yelled over my shoulder as I continued to look back at 29 and the train as it started to come up onto the summit. 

“I’m having a hard time keeping up with her demands. I have a feeling we’re gonna need to join #9329 in the shop when we get back from Canterlot if this keeps up. We're straining her hard.” 

I could feel what he meant, 66 was acting strange and I was starting to think going all the way to Canterlot was going to do more bad than good. 

Then things went from bad to worse as my walkie cracked to life, ”Stokes, something’s not right. I can feel 29 shaking with each wheel turn, I think that the main axle rod is bent. I don’t know how much longer I can give her power.” 

Of all the things I needed added to this stressful situation, that was not one of them. The "main axle" was the third axle in the line of five, and was the one that received power from the three cylinders first, as it was the one that the center cylinder of the trio was directly connected to. The little bit of power that 29 was giving me was all that was keeping us moving at that point. Without her, there was no way I’d be able to get the rest of the train onto the summit. 

Looking back at the track ahead, I searched for a mile marker to give me an idea how far onto the summit we were. Luckily, I caught sight of the metal marker post just at the edge of the headlight's cone of view, showing 41. There was five miles of train still on Nightmare, but that one mile of train on the summit was at least one less mile of train creating drag on the 2.9. 

I was hoping that we could get at least two more miles of train onto the summit before losing #9329 for good. That would leave three and a half miles of train on Nightmare, and I had to hope that #9366 was going to be more happy with a normal train’s length and weight still on the heavy grade, but there was only one way to find out. 

Giving a glance up to the speedometer, I saw that we were still holding at three miles per hour, though it seemed like it was itching to get up past four. That was good, we might none have been gaining speed like I wanted, but at least we weren't loosing speed anymore. We stayed like that for almost another hour, creeping along with a struggle, barely gaining speed as we pulled more of the train onto the summit. 

But finally the mile marker 44 came into view, and as we passed it at 9mph, I radioed back to Smoke, “Alright Smoke Box, over half the train’s on the summit. You can lay off, I should be able to handle getting the rest up on my own.”

”If you say so Stokes. I can't believe that...” Smoke Box didn’t get a chance to finish as a loud snap came through my walkie, along with the rhythmic sound of something hitting wood as we passed over the ties holding up the tracks. 

”Celestia damn it, I think we snapped the main axle Stokes. You’re on you’re own from here. Piston, go under there and see what you can do. Don’t need management breathing down our necks about needing to replace every tie from here to Tall Tale.”

I gulped hearing Smoke say that, before I set the regulator to keep us at our current speed and rushed over to Coal Dust’s side of the cab just in time to see Piston Rod already on the mesh running boards that down the length of 29’s boiler. 

I knew what those two were planning, and I didn't like it one bit. We watched as Piston lit his horn and cast a spell, it was one that all unicorns who had worked in the shop committed to memory. The spell basically made the hooves whoever it was cast on into magnets, allowing them to easily stick to the components of locomotives. It was quite useful when used in a shop setting. The now magnet hooved Piston Rod then slowly climbed under the boiler, using the connection bar of the rear truck to slide into the eight foot gap, just behind the still turning drivers.

Piston was doing this so he could get a better idea of what had happened to his engine, and I knew that was important, especially if they had snapped the main axle. But I also knew that what he was doing was unendingly stupid. 

Even with his magnet hooves, it would only take one missed step or bad bump in the track, and Piston would be a goner. Besides that, being just inches away from the firebox and boiler, which, as anyone could imagine, are incredibly hot, risked him burning himself and loosing focus on the spell, something that would also lead to a very bad outcome 

Coal Dust and I held out breath as we waited and hoped that Piston would soon climb back out uninjured, the seconds seeming to tick by like hours, the air growing more tense with each one that passed. Thankfully, after a few tense moments, Piston Rod climbed out from underneath #9329 and waved to us, signaling he was ok. The two of us let out a deep sigh or relief and watched him climb back into the cab of #9329, before I returned  to my seat and picked up the walkie, “How’s it looking down there?” 

Not surprisingly, Piston Rod’s voice came back, ”We were right, snapped the main axle rod, and the crank rod from the middle piston was smacking the ties. I fused it to the bottom of the boiler, and set the cylinder direction valve to neutral, so any steam that goes in will just come back out. But there is no way we can give you any help besides braking.” 

I knew what he meant by fused, another spell shop unicorns learned. It allowed them to temporarily “weld” metal together. It wasn't really structural integrity, and was mostly just used to hold pieces in place so they could be properly welded. In this situation, It was basically just a quick fix to keep us moving and not ruin the rails under our hooves. It was then what Piston Rod said about the condition of their engine actually sunk in. I couldn't say I was really that surprised to hear how bad 29 was, but it was still shocking to hear it actually be said.

“Alright, just sit back and take a break then, not much else you can do now, or that we can do about it. Don’t need to make 29 any worse than she already is.” I then sat back down and took inventory on the condition of the rest of the train, we had managed to climb back up to 12mph and were holding. That however was simply because I hadn’t adjusted the reverser to allow the train to gain more speed. Pulled the reverser back a little bit and closed the regulator just slightly, trying to make Dusty’s job of keeping up with the hungry engine’s demands a little easier, I sat there on my seat in silence as I watched the speedometer once again start to climb. A few minutes later, I caught sight of another mile marker, this one showing the number 46. 

“Well, looks like we’re mostly on the summit now, so it should be somewhat smooth sailing from here on out.” I pointed out to Dusty, not really expecting a reply and unsurprisingly not receiving one. We still had a mile left before the Dragon Tooth bridge, but even with that distance, I could see the black abyss that was the cutting that held the river that the bridge spanned. 

By the time we hit the bridge, we had increased our speed to 19mph, as the last of the train had been pulled off the Nightmare grade and onto the summit, drastically reducing the strain on #9366. At that point it was almost midnight, and as I stared into the darkness ahead of us, I felt the stress of last few days and especially today catching up with me. 

I wavered a little bit as my eyes tried to shut on me and force me to sleep. I fought against it the best I could, but the build up of fatigue was hard to hold back any longer. Dusty yelled over to me as I nearly fell out of my seat when my eyes drifted shut again, “Hey Stokes, you good over there!”

That snapped me back from the verge of sleep, and I shook my head vigorously to try and force myself back awake, “Yeah I’m good Coal Dust. Four days of constant runs on five hours of sleep is finally starting to catch up with me.” 

Coal Dust nodded, then turned back to his gauges again, I could tell he was starting to feel the strain just as much as I was just by the look I caught in the back of his eyes. I was really not looking forward to the near day and a half trip to Canterlot. I turned and again looked out at the night trying to keep my mind active with spotting the track ahead, only to last about another two minutes before I almost fell asleep again.

“Stokes. Stokey! Fire Stoker!” Coal Dust yelled as he saw me almost fall out of my seat once more. 

I quickly jerked myself back into place and shook my head again before Coal spoke again, “Maybe we should ask someone else to take the train the rest of the way to Canterlot when we get to Tall Tale. I wouldn't mind getting some actual sleep and you definitely need some.” 

“Dusty, while I would love to catch up on multiple hours of missed sleep, the railway needs us right now. The other crews are so busy that, if I have to pull some extra weight, and stop by Reefer's coffee shop and get a couple extra espresso coffees again, than that’s what I’ll do.” 

Coal Dust shook his head, “Stokes, I understand you're a stallion of the rails and won't turn down an order, but use some common sense bro. If you won't hear it from me, than think of it this way, your grandad taught you to have respect for the railway and its equipment because of how easy it is for it to kill you or others right?” I nodded. “Well how much respect are you showing by putting yourself and others in danger because you're nearly falling asleep on the hoofplate because you're too stubborn to ask for somepony else to take the train? What would Hotbox think of that, or better yet your father?”

Everypomy on the railway knew that if I started to get too stubborn for my own good, I could get brought back down to Equis if Hotbox was mentioned. I was a very thick headed pony in my youth, I guess we all are in our own way, and tended to take Hotbox's teaching a little too literally. But the one thing I refused to do, outright and completely refused, was to embarrass my grandfather and his name. I would not let his name and legacy get muddied and tarnished by my actions, not after he disappeared. 

However, I was shocked and slightly hurt that Coal Dust brought up my dad. Bringing up dead rail ponies like that was something we just didn't do. 

When I didn’t immediately say anything back, Dusty spoke up again with his voice tinged in guilt, “Hey Stokes, I’m sorry that I brought up Dad. I shouldn't have done that, and I know you don’t like us using Hotbox against you”

“No, no, it’s alright Coal Dust. You were right. I’m being stubborn and letting my pride get in the way of doing my job properly. We’ll stop in and talk with Files or, somepony, when we get to Tall Tale and have them assign the train a new set of crews.” 

Coal just nodded before he turned back to his work, and I did the same. We didn’t speak again till we were well over the summit and coasting down the 1.7% grade on the other side. 

As we past one of the signal boxes further down the line, I blew #9366’s whistle in a specific pattern, signaling we needed to make a stop in Stareston to refuel. I watched as the signal ahead of us changed to yellow, signaling we’d need to slow down for the cross over into Stareston for the fuel-up three miles up. 

Keeping an eye out, it wasn't long before the next signal came into view, another yellow and an arm pointing off to the right showing that the switch had been thrown and that we were about to move over into the Stareston yard. As I brought the train to a stop in the yard, which was nowhere near big enough to fit the entire train, with our tender under the coal hopper, Coal Dust spoke up once again, “Hey Stokes, I’m sorry again that  I, brought up your dad like that. It was bad enough I used Hotbox against you like that, I shouldn't have brought him into it too.” 

I sighed as I fully applied the brakes, ensuring the train would stay in place as we coaled up, “It’s alright Dusty, honest. Like I said back up on the summit, I was being overly stubborn and pig headed, and wouldn't listen to reason. You brought my family into the conversation because you knew that it would make me listen to reason, so just do me a favor and drop it alright?”

I could tell that Dusty didn’t want to drop it, but he would instead just give me a nod, “Alright Stokey, I’ll drop it. But I’m here if you want to talk about him again.” 

Unable to find the right thing to say in response, I would instead climb out of the cab and onto the tenders to fill them up. 

It took about twenty minutes to completely fill the first tender with coal from its quarter filled state, during which I nearly fell asleep three times, being scared out of my wits each time I woke up to the feeling of nearly falling back of the tender and to the ground below. After the coal was dealt with, I climbed across to the water tender to start filling that. 

As I pulled down the waterspout, I noticed white light coming from underneath #9329, and a few moments later Piston Rod crawled out from under his engine. 

“What’cha doing down there Piston?” I called as I pulled the cord and began to fill the tender with water. 

The dirtied white stallion turned to me as he dusted off his denims, “I was trying to see if there was some way to reinforce the main axle so we don’t have to worry about it causing the drive rods to lock up.” 

“Have any luck?”

He shook his head, “No not really. Not much I can do without the torches that are down in Tall Tale.”

Giving a shrug back, I watched him climb back up into the cab of #9329, most likely to grab a power nap. Eventually, the water tender was full, and I put the water spout back up before working my way back towards the cab. 

Climbing back in, I found Coal Dust getting a nap in himself, propped up against the window of the cab with his cap pulled down over his eyes. I rolled my eyes and was about to go wake him up when I thought of something. With how bad 66 had been bucking back on the top of Nightmare, and the weird feeling I had been getting the rest of the way down, I was concerned that we had done some damage to our running gear as well, and chose to climb down out of the cab to inspect them.

However, I was not ready for what I saw when I started checking them over. Now I had asked Piston and Smoke how they had bent the main rod of 29 when we were back in Vanhoover, but now I fully understood how. The main rod of #9366 was bent terribly, to the point that I now had a reason to worry about my drive rods locking up. The main rods on 29 had been bent out of place by about half an inch at most, probably less. But the ones on 66 were nearly two inches out of alignment. Now I knew that we couldn’t take #9366 to Canterlot, it was just wasn't going to happen 

Knowing there wasn't much I could do besides limp my old mare home, I turned around and climbed back into the cab, shaking Coal Dust awake before taking my seat once more, “Get up Dusty, we’re heading out.” He nodded, and with a blow of the whistle and a release of the brakes, we were moving again. 

By the time we got into Tall Tale, it was nearly five in the morning, and I was happy to see the end of the longest run over The Grade that anyone would ever complete, the whole journey having taken roughly ten hours, more then double what a normal run would. We brought the train to a stop on the incoming track before uncoupling, and slowly pulling 29 off with us. 

Once we had moved off and out of the way, I trotted over to the yard master’s office, where he informed me that two 4-8-4 freight engines that had been in the shop for maintenance had been finished up and were rostered to finish the run to Canterlot. I was happy to hear that, and quickly made my way back to #9366, watching as the two “new” locomotives made their way out of shop bays 6 and 7, which were quickly reoccupied by #9329 and #9366. 

By the time the four of us started to make our way to the bunk houses, it was nearly six in the morning, and I was well past over tired. I don't remember that walk, pretty sure I was just sleep walking and happened to find my way back to my room and bed by memory and luck. I didn’t wake up until 7 that night. 

The first thing I did was go check on #9366, and got the lowdown on her damages. Turned out that when 66 had been serviced the week before, the main rods had been replaced due to fatigue cracks. But, due to the fire in the Canterlot foundries, they had to cast the rods out of cheaper metal on the weaker machinery that hadn't been damaged, which evidently, was not strong enough to handle the power of the HG-10. 

It would be a week before either 66 or 29 were in condition to go back to work on The Grade, by that point the rush was starting to die down and we would soon after be back to running our normal busy schedule. That was the only time The Grade would ever see a train of that size. There would be ones that would hit 580’s, and even as big as a 600 once or twice, but a train over six miles long would never again grace the metals of the Smokey mountains. However, after a near runaway situation with a 600 heading to Vanhoover, management put into place a rule that no matter what, trains could not exceed five miles long. 

Two years later, the only engines capable of double heading a 500, were banned from use.
> Side Chapter 2: Snowed In
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The weather in Tall Tale can be hard to get used to for anypony not from the area. 

So pretty much everypony else in Equestria. 

Sure we got weather reports like anywhere else in Equestria, but there was the ever present possibility that the weather posted would be much, much worse, like the storm we went through with #3800. 

But if you believed that the rains were ridiculous in Tall Tale, you didn’t what to be around when winter showed its head. 

There were so many things that set Tall Tale winter's apart from anywhere else in Equestria. First, due to how tall the Smokey Mountains were, winter on the summit set in nearly two months before the first flakes ever fell on Tall Tale or Vanhoover. On top of that, once winter was in full swing, the snow that could fall on The Grade in the matter of a day was extraordinary. 

A normal storm for the area would drop around 2-3 feet overnight, which isn’t that bad. However, that was blown out of the water when real storms set in. There is the term white-out, where there is so much snow falling that world is turned completely white and you can’t see a thing. And those conditions did set in a lot, but the worse storms that could hit were nicknamed “black outs.” 

Black-outs were the nickname we gave to storms when clouds were so black and so plentiful, that it could turn a bright noon sky into a clouded night sky, along with dropping white out levels of snow. 

The worst storm that had ever hit the line in the winter dropped over a foot of snow an hour for 8 hours in complete black-out conditions. Winters were so bad that I never went through one where the snow drifts on the summit didn’t eventually grow taller than the roof of my engine. 

Which as you can expect is a very scary thing to experience, at least for the first few years. 

All of us on the railway knew how bad the storms could be, and what signs showed a storm was coming. So when we saw the signs, we got trains off The Grade and closed it down, better to let it get covered and clean it in one go than fight it for however long the storm lasted. 

We still ran other trains, we just had to send out all that didn't require crossing the mountains. There were a few times we tried to press our luck, but most of the time we wised up, chickened out, and went back to the yard. 

But there was one winter, where we didn’t. It was the last winter we had complete freedom from the Canterlot nobles that would eventually take control of the line, but they were already sticking their noses in our business. 



I was up on the summit with our massive rotary snowplow #02, clearing away snow from the blackout storm the night before. #02 was one of four rotary snow plows that were stationed in Tall Tale for use in clearing the line after heavy snowfalls. 

#02 was by far the biggest out of the bunch, standing at an impressive 16 feet tall, with a rotor 13 feet wide. The massive rotor was run by a 210 psi boiler that was attached to a set of 2 cylinders cannibalized from an HG10 that was being overhauled at the time #02 was being built. Those cylinders turned a massive system of gears that allowed the pistons to turn the rotor at a max rpm of 120rpms. While that may not sound like much, #02 could easily cut through snow 13 feet deep and then throw it up to 200 yards away all day long. 

At that moment we were cutting through around 12 feet of snow at a smooth 3 mph. It had been a while since we had maxed out #02, and watching the snow banks created come up to the bottom of my window, proved we were getting close to that point.

Watching the snow banks try to grow taller than the locomotive was, and always has been one of the craziest things I would ever see. 

I sat back in my seat of #9335, the locomotive that was permanently connected to #02, before I looked over at Coal Dust, who busy keeping up boiler pressure as we pushed into the snow, 

“How you holding up over there?” I called over to him. 

“Oh just fine. I think they need to clean the pipes out on this thing, she’s trying to be hard on me.”

I nodded as I turned back to looking at the massive black box in front of me that was the plow, “Blow Torch warned me that might be the case, I'll have to let him know when we get back to Tall Tale tomorrow night.” 

Just as I finished speaking, there was a cracking through the cab and another voice spoke up, ”Stokes, I can’t believe how much snow that storm dropped. We barely had a foot on the ground up here yesterday, and now, we’re pushing nearly 13.” 

It was Blastpipe, who was up in the rotary with Crankshaft, controlling the massive machine. I looked over to my left, where a massive crystal was mounted to the backhead. This was part of a new radio system that had come out of the Crystal Empire, it was a wide broadcast system that allowed you to talk to and be heard by anyone who had one of the crystals, and was more clear than walkie talkies, along with the fact that the radio waves could reach farther. 

The official name of the radio was Crystal Broadband Radio, but everyone just called it a CB radio for short. There were only a few examples of it on the railway as it was very expensive being a new product and technology, but management was planning to eventually get one into every engine on the road. 

I picked up the mic for the CB and keyed it, “I know what you mean Blast, and I'm not too happy about it. Just keep an eye on the height of the snow in case it gets above 13, I don’t feel like getting yelled at for jamming up #02 like Axle Load did last year.” 

”Ha! Yeah I'd rather not have to deal with that. Don't worry, I'll keep my eye on it.” I heard in reply. 

"Hey, key that for me." Dusty called from his side of the cab. I did and reached over towards him, "Hey Blast, you ever going to go back to working with Ash Pan? Seems like you've been stuck with Crank for awhile."

We both expected Blastpipe to reply, but instead, Crankshaft's voice came through the CB, "I wish he would! Dusty tell Ash to stop getting in trouble and getting stuck on yard shunter duty, that's my job and I want it back!"

Dusty and I couldn't help but laugh. Even though Crankshaft and Blastpipe didn't have any actual problems with each other, they weren't the best mix when it came to a crew. Crankshaft was used to being a yard shunter, and he enjoyed that job. But since Ash Pan couldn't help but get himself into some sort of trouble, he kept getting stuck on yard duty as a punishment. This forced Crankshaft to take over Ash Pan's job with Blastpipe. Eventually Crankshaft got better about it, but it did lead to him getting assigned to help Blastpipe anytime Ash was indisposed, like training new ponies in the yard. On the bright side, Blast and Crank were able to develop a better working relationship.

As we continued to pound away at the snow in front of us, my mind started to wander as it often did on long trips over The Grade when I wasn’t stressed to hell and back. My mind immediately went back to the day before, before the line had been closed due to the weather.



Me and Dusty had just arrived in Tall Tale with a 275 of loaded coal cars after spending the previous night in Vanhoover. 

As I brought the train to a stop on Incoming Track 2, I looked up to the sky and immediately noticed the incoming sighs of a black-out. “I guess we’re only getting one run in today Dusty. Black-out’s rolling in.” I called to the other side of the cab. 

A few seconds later I heard a faint, “So it is.” come from Coal Dust as he too took notice of the sky. 

We barely discussed it any further as a yard worker came up and uncoupled us from our train, and I proceeded to move us off toward the shops. #9366 was due in for an inspection and pipe cleaning, and black-out or no, it was still going to be done. 

It was confirmed not to long after we pulled into shop bay 7, as we were dumping the fire, that The Grade would be closed down until the weather cleared up. 

As I said, that didn’t mean that the railway ground to a halt. It just meant that we couldn’t send any trains north out of Tall Tale, or south out of Vanhoover. So as I was walking back to the shops after talking to the yard master, I wasn't surprised to see a train assembled and ready to roll out, sitting on track 2. 

I was, however, surprised to find the 225 led by HG10 #9320, the first of the class, lined up for a run up The Grade about twenty minutes after the line had been closed. 

Curiosity got the best of my, and I walked over to figure out what was going on. As I got closer to the engine, I saw a head poke out the engineer’s window, and smile at me, “Well hi there Stokers, what are you doing walkin’ around the yard in this weather?” 

I had to try not to laugh, the old stallion had been a friend of Hotbox, Brake Check. I always found it funny how he talked to me like I was still 7 years old, even when I was 23. “Oh just heading back to the shop to help inspect #9366. What are you doing?” 

“Oh just about to take this train over The Grade.” 

“But didn't they closed The Grade to all traffic like, half an hour ago.”

“We did.” Said another voice behind me, making me jump.

I turned around to find Spotlight standing behind me. “We did close the line, but we just got a telegram from Vanhoover saying that their hospital is running low on supplies. Those supplies are on this train, along with food and other products that their stores are running low on. So considering that the storm coming in is a big one, I said that we'd get the train to them today.”

He then looked up at Brake Check, “Brake Check there just happened to be walking past my office when I was discussing this with Red and Ditchlight, and volunteers himself and Funnel Flare to haul the train.”

“And we don't regret it.” Came a call from the other side of #9320, making it logical that it came from Funnel Flare, Brake’s fire-stallion. 

I looked past Spotlight toward the mountains that held The Grade, and saw the clouds rolling in. “As important as this may be, I still see it as risky. That blackout looks like it will be in full force in less than an hour. Wouldn't do anyone any good if Brake and Funnel got stuck up there.” 

Spotlight cracked a smile, “That's why they aren't going alone.” It was at that moment, a yard shunted pushed a rotary snow plow, #04, down onto the front of the train. Being the newest of the rotary plows made for the railway, it didn't require being permanently attached to a locomotive. 

There was a heavy clang as the couplers of the rotary and locomotive locked together before I caught onto what Spotlight was planning, “I get it, you'll man the rotary and keep the line ahead of the engine clear.” 

Spotlight chuckled, “Well me and Knuckle, but yes that's the plan.”

I nodded, then turned to continue my walk back to the shop, “Well I'll get out of your mane then. The faster you leave the better chance you have of getting over the summit before to much snow sets in. #04 is only built to handle up to seven feet after all.” 

“I know what this thing maxes at, I designed it for Celestia’s sake! I haven't lost my mind yet Fire Stoker!” I heard Spotlight call back to me as I walked away and he climbed into the snow plow. 

I just laughed, and continued on my way back to the shops. Me and Coal Dust spent the next four hours in the shop with the inspection ponies and then the pipe fitters, as we gave 66 a good once over. 

We then left her in the hooves of the backshop crews as we left to take a 175 to Hoovington with one of the local freight 2-8-0’s, #741, while 66 had her brick arch rebuilt. We arrived back in Tall Tale with a rack of freshly repainted passenger cars at around three in the afternoon. 

I always found it funny that our shops had every facility imaginable, including a locomotive paint shop, but we didn’t have a shop set up to paint passenger cars. 

Despite the fact that it was three o’clock, we had to have our headlight on, as the blackout had finally started to set in over Tall Tale, making it nearly as black as a moonless night.

As I brought us to a stop once again on incoming track 2, the Tall Tale yard master, Slip Coach, came up to us, “Alright guys, take this ol’ gal over to shed 3-2, and put her away. We have enough engines and crews out right now, so you guys are off the hook till tomorrow.”

Coal Dust and I looked at each other before I turned back to Slip Coach, “Can do Slip.” There was a clunk behind us signaling that the locomotive had been uncoupled from the train. With that, I opened the regulator as one of the switch ponies ran ahead and set the road.

15 minutes later, #741 was in her berth in the sheds, and Coal Dust and I were on our way back to our bunks. I went to sleep that night with barely a thought on my mind, as snow heavily feel outside the four walls around me.

I woke up the next morning to find Tall Tale buried under five feet of snow. Usually, the summit of The Grade was under twice the snow that covered Tall Tale, making me guess that the summit was under at least 10 feet of snow.

I, however, wasn't intimidated by the heavy snowfall. I was a Tall Tale colt, born and raised, so I was quite used to what could and did happen during our winters. 

I pulled on a pair of “clean” denims, slapped my engineer’s cap on my head, wrapped a scarf around my neck, and walked out of the bunk house. 

As I made the short walk to the main yard office, I looked around at all the towns ponies clearing snow off and away from their houses, more often than not seeing a pony pulling a wagon loaded with snow towards the rail yard. 

Our back shops would take all the snow collected from around the town, melt it down, and then use it to fuel the boilers that ran the equipment used in the shops. This arrangement meant that the city was always clear of high snow drifts, and the shops barely ever had to use the railway’s water, which massively cut costs. 

As I approached the yard office, I could hear the weering of a pack rotaries coming from the yard. These were the rotaries that kept the yards clear of snow so the trains could still run.

They were basically the same design as the rotaries used to clear the line, except for a few small things. First, they were smaller than the main line rotors, standing at a maximum of 8 feet tall, with 5 foot rotors. The other main difference was the rotor didn’t shoot snow out to the side. Instead, it put it onto a conveyor belt that then deposited the snow into custom built 70 foot long gondolas, which when full, would be left in the shops to suffer the same fate as the snow that came from town.

I walked into dispatch, and made a beeline for File’s desk. He was the only dispatcher I could handle first thing in the morning, and nearly everypony knew that by now.

“Mornin’ Files.” I called as I leaned on his desk.

The grey-green unicorn looked up from the paperwork he had been doing, “Morning to you too Stokes. Enjoy your afternoon off?”

“Oh yeah, but I can only be away from the railway for so long. So, what have you got for me?”

Files dug through the papers on his desk, then handed me a clipboard with a set of papers on it, “Well you’ll be getting your fix today, we put you on rotary duty with #9335.”

I looked the papers over, it was a straight forward run. We push #02 up The Grade as it clears the line of all the snow, and inspect as we go to make sure the line was ready to run trains again. Simple, easy, straight forward snow clearing run.

“This shouldn’t be too hard. Uh, where is #02 and 9335 at? It doesn’t state it on the paper.”

Files’s eyes widened just slightly for a second, before he dug through the papers on his desk again, “We didn’t know where it would be because we took it out of the snowshed to be worked on. Someone gave me a paper telling me what bay it was in at the shop. Ah here it is.”

He pulled another paper out of the piles on his desk and hoofed it to me. On it, it stated that #02 and her connected locomotive #9335 were in shop bay 11. I gave everything one last look over before nodding and looking back to Files, “Alright, I got everything I need. Thanks Files I’ll see you later.”

The grey dispatcher smiled and waved as I turned to walk away, “Later Stokes.” There was a few seconds pause before I heard him yell, “Hey wait!” 

“What?”

“Keep an eye out for the telegraph lines, we can’t get in contact with Vanhoover or any of the signal boxes on their side of The Grade, so there’s gotta be a break somewhere.”

I thought about this for a second. The telegraph lines were mounted on the outside rail of the south bound track, and ran from Hoofington to Vanhoover. They were the only way we could have contact with the signal ponies on The Grade while they were on shift. Usually snow falls, no matter how heavy, couldn’t knock out the telegraphs, as the lines used over The Grade were nearly two inches thick, and hidden under the top of the rails. However, they were under a great amount of tension, so something like rocks coming down and hitting the other side of the rail could cause enough stress to snap the telegraph line. 

I shrugged as I called over my shoulder at Files, “Snowfall must have knocked a few rocks loose like it did a couple years back. I'll keep my eyes open.”

As I opened the door that lead to the yard, I heard Files call from his desk, “Thank Stokes, have a good run.”

I just waved without looking as I walked out the door and made my way over to the shops to collect #9335 and her Siamese Snow Blower. 

Sure enough, I found it right where the order said it would be, in shop bay 11. As I walked in I noticed a large stallion climbing out of the rotary’s cab. He was a burly earth pony stallion, who had started working the shops around the same time I did, only he was 19 when he started. His name was Blow Torch, and was actually the pony I usually went looking for when #9366 needed work. 

“Mornin’ Torch. How’s everything looking in there?” I called as the black stallion with a red and yellow mane dropped onto the shop floor. 

“Stokes it's been a while. I guess 66 is still running fine.” Blow Torch replied, his Tall Tale accent almost hidden by his low, gravelly voice, as he walked over and gave me a hoof bump. 

I winced a little from the impact of Torch’s hoof. The stallion was nearly as big and strong as they came, and could be quite intimidating if you didn't know him. 

Made one hell of a hoofball center in high school though. 

“Yeah 66 has been running fine. Though I think her brake shoes are wearing out.” I said as we walked back over to where the snow blower and her engine sat waiting. “So what's up with these two?”

Blow Torch just waved a hoof, “Oh nothing, just checking them over quick, first time being steamed up in months and all. They should be fine, but let me know if it seems like 35’s pipes are choked up. I was only told about this at the last minute, so I didn't get a chance to have Superheat clean the smoke box and replace the boiler pipes.”

I nodded as I started my once around the engine, checking everything over for myself, “Can do Torch. I think I can handle things from here. I'm sure you got something laying around in the back that needs to get taken care of.” 

Blow Torch laughed, “There always is. Later Stokes.” 

I gave him a quick hoof bump as he walked past, his hoofsteps quickly getting drained out by the heavy machine sounds coming from the back shop. 

As I was finishing up looking #9335 over and cleaning out her ash pan, I heard the bay door open and a few ponies walk in “..o I told the colt to screw off and what not, ‘cause I was not dealing with some greenhorn’s bs after a long day of yard clearing. Next thing I know I’m on the ground and the colt’s on top of me, trying his best to beat the shit out of me. He got a few good hits in, but five minutes later, the rest of my cider was gone, I was walking home, the paramedics were just arriving, and the colt was still out cold.”

I knew the voice of Crankshaft well, and I knew how he could act when someone got between him and his nightly cider, or tried to pick a fight with him. Those usually went hoof in hoof though. 

I climbed up into the cab and looked out to the bay door, to see Coal Dust, Crankshaft, and Blastpipe walking toward the engine. As the got a little closer, I could see a grin appear on Coal Dust’s face a second before he yelled out over the shop bay, “Oh honey, where are you!”

When you've spent the last five years of your life in a locomotive cab with the same pony day in and day out, you begin to act like idiots toward each other to keep each other from going crazy. 

Then again, you had to be kinda crazy to work on a railway in the first place. 

I sat back in the engine’s cab before calling back, “Up here Darling! Wait with a shovel so I can bean your head in.”

There was calm for all of six seconds before the four of us burst out laughing. As the three blubbering idiots rolled around on the floor, I climbed out #9335’s cab, still laughing. 

I walked over to Dusty and helped pick him up off the shop floor, before turning toward the other two he had walked in with. “Hey Blastpipe, Crankshaft. Take it you guys are running #02.”

“Yes sir.” Blastpipe replied with a nod as we turned and walked over to the snow blower. 

“Well then, it looks like we’ll have an easy day without trouble.” I then cracked a smile and looked back at Crankshaft, “As long has Crankshaft can keep his hooves to himself.”

We all burst out laughing again, even Crankshaft. He knew that picking a fight with him while at the bar had basically become a rite of passage for new railway workers. He really didn’t care, and could tell when somepony was actually picking a fight with him or was just going through the motions. He went easy on the new colts, mostly.

We each climbed into or respective machines and started the processes of getting them ready for use.

“You read over the papers for this?” Coal Dust asked as he stocked #9335’s fire to life.

I nodded as I looked over my gauges and made sure everything was set, “Yeah, it’s just a normal snow clearing run. We just have to keep an eye open for telegraph lines once we get to the summit, Files told me that they can’t get in contact with Vanhoover or an of the signal boxes on that side of The Grade.”

That made Coal Dust pause for a second, “Huh, snow must have caused another rock slide or something.”

I couldn't help but chuckle again, “That's exactly what I said. I doubt that it’s any major problem though.” 

It was then the CB next to me cracked to life, ”We’re ready to go up here if you are Stokes.”

I picked up the CB’s receiver, “Yeah we’re good to go back here. What are you gonna start out running the rotor at?”

It was a very important question to ask, as the rotor’s speed dictated how much snow it could handle, and how fast. If I went too fast with the rotor running too slow, it could jam, and that causes all sorts of headaches. I shuddered a little as I remembered the flank chewing Axle Load got from Spotlight the year before when he had gotten #02 jammed up, causing one of her connecting gears to shatter.

Blastpipe’s reply broke me from my thoughts about Axle Load, “I’m planning to start her out at 8, then bring her up to 10 once we pass 8 feet.”

I did a few quick calculations in my head, determining that I travel at a max of 8 mph, at least until the snow got up to be around 7 feet thick, after that, I’d probably be lucky to make a max of 4 or five until we got over the summit. “Alright, just let me know when we get up around 7 feet up there, don’t need the rotor jammed.” I replied.

”Amen to that.” Was all I got back.

I gave a blast of 35’s whistle to signal to somepony near by we were ready to leave the bay we were in, and that we needed the doors opened. Sure enough, two young colts ran from one of the bays to our right, and opened up the doors.

I gave them both a thankful nod, as I blasted the whistle one more time, before cracking open the regulator. #9335 started to ease herself out of the shop bay and into the winter sun, thick white clouds of steam coming out of herself and the snow plow in front of her. It looked as if a beast was being woken up from a nap.

Ironic how that was basically what was happening.

We quickly made our way across the yard, and soon enough, we were positioned at the snow covered entrance to The Grade, the bank in front of us reaching nearly 6 feet tall, and we weren’t even out of the yard yet.

”Alright, give me a second to get the rotor spinning.” Blastpipe said, quickly being followed by the “faint” sound of cylinders as he brought the massive blade up to 80 rpm.

As we waited for the rotor to spin up, Coal Dust and I looked up at the pass in front of us. The Smokey Mountains looked like one big snow drift, complete covered in a thick layer of white. I turned to Dusty after a minute of looking up at the mountain, “Looks like we got a long day ahead of us.”

“132 miles at 5 miles per hour, that what, 26 hours? Yeah it’s gonna be a long day.” Coal Dust said with a sigh, sitting back in his chair.

Just then, a whistle came from #02, signaling that the rotor was up to speed, and Blastpipe was ready to go. I just nodded to myself, before once again cracking the regulator, and pushing into the snowbank in front of us, officially starting our long day.



Thankfully, the snow on the way up the Tall Tale side of The Grade was very light, even with the fact is was over 8 feet deep, so I was able to keep us going at 8 mph, taking just under seven and a half hours to get to the summit.

It was about five in the evening when we got to the other side of the summit, and the sun was starting to set. As we started down Nightmare, the snow started to grow lighter, yet I didn’t increase our speed. Keeping an engine under control going down Nightmare took a large amount of skill. Doing it when the rails were covered with snow, and possibly ice, took a real expert of the line.

We were about a third of the way down Nightmare, when I caught sight of something as we rounded a corner. It was a large clump of snow that was built up taller than the snow around it. I cracked a little bit of a smile as I picked up the CB receiver, “Looks like we found our rock slide. I’ll take it in easy, just be ready.”

I watched as the drift grew closer, and slowly applied the brakes harder, keeping us under control on the steep downgrade. #02 was built out of an incredibly strong steel, especially when it came to the rotor. We had come across rock slides on the line brought down by snow before, and #02 would either just push the rocks till we got back to the yard, or chuck them like it did snow, and the only damage would be some scraped paint and a missing gear tooth or two. As I brought us closer to the drift, I prepared for the sound of the rotor meeting rocks for the first time, but instead I was meet with the ear-piercing sound of metal on metal.

I quickly applied the brakes and brought the train to a near instant stop, as we had only been doing 2 mph.

“What the hell was that?” Dusty yelled as we started to recover from the quick stop.

“No idea.” I said as I picked up the CB, “Hey Blastpipe, you guys ok up there?”

It took a second for a response, but soon enough I heard a reply, ”Yeah we’re good. Don’t know what that was all about, but I think we hit whatever knocked out the telegraph line.”

“I think you’re right on that one. You calm down #02, we’ll go check out what’s up with the rotor.”

”Roger that.”

I pulled the reverser back, and edged the snowblower away from whatever we had hit. I then pulled the brakes and fully applied them to hold everything in place. I looked over at Coal Dust, “You coming with?”

He shrugged, “Might as well. Got nothing better to do till we figure out what’s up.”

With that we climbed out the windows of #9335 and onto the snow banks that came up to just under her window sills. We sank into the snow a good two or three inches, but it was still able to hold our weight.

We walked up to the front of the snowblower, and jumped down onto the track. We looked over the rotor, and found that it had been slightly bent in by whatever we had hit.

“Damn, we must hit something pretty hard to do that.” Dusty said, before we turned back to the snow pile that was the cause of our problems. Sitting a little ways above the track, was what looked like a brown rock that was smeared with red paint.

“Is it just me, or does that not look like a rock?” Dusty asked as we looked at the ‘rock’.

I reached in and started to brush away the snow around the object, and was shocked by what I found. 

“What the hell, is that doing there.”

Instead of being a rock like we had thought, what was actually buried by the snow, was a knuckle coupler, still contented to a rail car. 

“Dusty, go get Blast and Crank. Now.” I said without taking my eyes off the knuckle. I heard Coal Dust stumble up out of the pit that we were in. 

I then climbed onto the coupler and began digging at the snow around it. Slowly, I exposed the hoof-rail of a caboose.

I had found the door and dusted off of the right wall by the time Coal Dust returned with the others, to find me staring at said wall. 

“Crank?” I asked over my shoulder

“Yeah?”

“You were the one to shunt Spotlight’s train together right?”

“Uh-hu.”

“What was their cabooses’ ID number?”

“Um 10977.”

I could tell they knew where I was going with this. So there wasn't as much shock when I moved away from the wall, and the faded black numbers 10977 stared back at us. 

“But, that shouldn't be possible. Spotlight and the others made it to Vanhoover! R-right?” Crankshaft said, as the shock of seeing the caboose’s ID wore off. 

Coal Dust shook his head, “As far as I know, they were never confirmed in Vanhoover. The telegraph lines went down before a confirmation was sent. 

I climbed back onto the caboose’s rear runner, and wiped the ice and snow off of the door, and looked in the window. “Hey there no one in here!”

“That's ok! They didn't bring any brake ponies with them! They just wanted the caboose as a marker to make sure they still had their entire train!” Blastpipe quickly shouted to avert an actual panic. 

“So what does this mean?” Crankshaft asked.

I looked at the back of the caboose, and took notice of the ladder at the left side of the hoof-rail, “I don’t know, but I plan to find out.” I said before I started to climb up onto the roof of the caboose.

As I stood on top of the caboose, which was covered by a foot and a half of snow, I looked out at the massive pile of snow that was in front of me. ”No.” I whispered under my breath as things started to stick together in my head, and I wasn’t liking what I was coming up with

“Hey guys, get up here.” I called into the pit that the others were standing in. It didn’t take long for the others to climb onto the roof with me. By the looks on their faces, it didn’t take long for them to come up to the same conclusion I had.

“I’m gonna try to find the head end, you guys coming with?” I asked. I got a nod from the other three, and we soon found ourselves walking along the massive snow banks up to the front of the snow pile.

We looked over the massive pile from all sides, and finally were able to find what looked like a cylinder shape. “Hey, I think this is it!” Blastpipe called, as he began to dig at the snow. We all quickly joined in, hoping everyone buried was still alright. 

After digging out about a foot’s worth of snow, we hit metal. After brushing it off, we were easily able to determine that it was part of an HG10.

“That's the whistle!” I yelled as we continued to clear away snow. The whistle however, was sideways, proving that the engine was on its side. 

We continued to clear snow away, we were able to uncover the cab’s roof, and the vents in the middle. We quickly ripped the vents off and looked down into the cab. 

Sitting inside the cab were the unconscious forms of Brake Check and Funnel Flare.

That was all I needed to see. I shimmied my way through the cold hole where the vents used to be, and eased myself into the engine’s cab. I quickly checked them over, and found that they were, thankfully, both breathing. 

“They're out cold, but breathing!” I called up to the three outside the cab. 

“We got to get them out of here.” Crankshaft stated as he leaned into the cab and looked over the same seen I was.

“Yeah, but what can we do? It’s not like we can un-bury the engine and tow it back to Tall Tale, the entire train is still behind it. And judging by the fact the engine is on her side, I doubt that the rest of the train is still on the track.” Coal Dust stated from out of sight.

“Blastpipe, Crankshaft, if we can get these two back to #9335, do you think you could get them back to Tall Tale?” I asked

Crankshaft looked back behind himself, most likely at Blastpipe, before he responded, “Yeah I think we can do that.” 

I nodded as I looked down at the two unconscious ponies at my hooves, “Alright. Crank, come down here and help me pick these guys up. Blast, you and Dusty stay out there and pull them through.”

Crankshaft nodded, and dropped himself into the can of #9320, which was now starting to feel crowded. It took a little bit of effort, and the dying light wasn’t helping anything, but we soon had both Brake Check and Funnel Flare on the snow bank next to their buried engine.

As I was about to pull myself from the crumpled cab of #9320 to help carry Brake and Funnel back to #9335, when something clicked inside my head, “Shit!”

The other three paused what they were doing and looked at me, “What’s up Stokes?” Coal Dust asked.

“#04 was coupled up at the front of 20 right before they left the yard, and Spotlight and Knuckle were manning it! They’re still buried under here somewhere!” I yelled in a panic.

Blast, Crank, and Dusty looked at each other, before Dusty quickly shoved Brake Check and Funnel Flare onto Crankshaft’s and Blastpipe’s backs, “You two get them back to #9335 and get going to Tall Tale. I'll stay here and help Stokes find the others. Don't try and debate, just go!”

Crankshaft and Blastpipe looked at each other, before nodding and taking off across the snow as fast as the could to 35, their precious cargo in tow. 

Coal Dust then turned to me and helped me out of #9320, “You got a plan?”

“No, I got nothing.” I looked around, trying to come up with an idea of where the rotary snow plow might be underneath all the snow.

Coal Dust walked over to the cleared section of boiler, “Well the best place to start would be the front of #9320, so that’s where we’ll start.” 

We both began to dig along the length of the engine’s boiler, and were soon able to find the the smoke box door. We dug around the door for a while, before Coal Dust found something.

“Hey Stokes! I think I found it!” 

I ran over to him to see that he had unearthed part of #04’s roof, underneath #9320. That had me worried, if #04 had been forced underneath #9320 during whatever happened, it could mean that #04 had been crushed, and we were already too late for Spotlight and Knuckle.

We didn’t let that slow us down as we began to dig away at the snow around the roof of #04, with 2 feet of snow piled up around us already. As we dug, we banged on the roof of the rotary snow plow, when, ”Hey! Is someone out there!” Somepony called from below us.

Dusty and I stopped dead, it took only a moment for us to realize who had spoken, “Spotlight! Is that you!” I yelled at the roof. 

”No, it’s Knuckle, Spotlight’s out cold right now. He got messed up pretty good when we came off.” Came the metal muffled response.

I looked over to Coal Dust, who just stared right back at me. I then turned back to the roof, “What happened?”

There was a few seconds pause, before Knuckle replied, “We were going along just fine, rotor cranking at 85rpms, doing about 40mph, and easily cutting through the three-ish feet of snow on the line, when we got onto Nightmare. At first everything was alright, but then we hit a small rock slide, and the front truck jumped the track. We got to this corner, and the snow blower climbed the ledge, dumped us on our side, and things went to hell from there.”

I couldn’t do anything more a second, as what Knuckle said sunk in. I couldn’t even imagine what it was like to go through that, especially trapped in a massive metal box. “Look Knuckle, just hang in there a little longer, we’ll get you out soon, and get you and Spot back to Tall Tale as fast as we can. Just hang in there man.”

”I’ve been stuck in this freezing metal death trap all night, I can hold out a little longer, but I don’t know about Spotlight.

I nodded to myself, “We’ll do our best, but I don't know how we’re gonna get in. We don't have torches to cut the roof or sidewall, and there’s no way to get to either of the rotor’s doors.”

There was another few seconds pause before Knuckle responded, ”The first box car behind #9320 has all sorts of maintenance stuff in it. We don't normally run rotaries as fast as we were running this one, and he wanted everything on hoof. I’ll bet you every bit from my next paycheck that there is a set of torches in there, if you can find them.”

Dusty and I didn’t waste a second, we quickly climbed out of the hole that led down to the roof of #04, and went back to the roof of #9320. “Alright, he said that the boxcar was the first in the train. So that means that all we have to do it find the rear tender and hope that the first boxcar we find is the one we need, and isn’t broken open.” I said to Dusty as we got up next to 9320.

“Easier said than done man. Plus, my hooves are starting to freeze from digging through all this snow.” Dusty replied as he rubbed his hooves together to try and warm them up.

Just hearing him say that made my hooves feel colder than they had, forcing me to rub them together as well, “True, but there’s not much we can do. We have to keep going, or Knuckle and Spotlight are screwed.”

It was about then we heard the sound of an engine storming up the mountain, draining out the sound of a rotary plow hard at work. It was about then we noticed the noise was coming from in front of us, coming up the line from Vanhoover. 

“What in Celestia’s name?” I barely heard Dusty mutter, before I moved so I could see around the corner we were stuck on. What I saw was like a godsend. 

Charging up the line was the 10 foot wide rotor of #02’s little sister, #07 one of the rotaries that was stationed in Vanhoover, who looked like was running flat out. There came two quick blasts from her whistle, before she came to a stop a few feet in front of me. 

I walked over to #03’s door, which opened up to reveal the friendly face of Ash Pan, who had gotten stuck in Vanhoover by the storm after acting as the replacement firepony for a freight that had been the last train let out of Tall Tale's yard. “Ash, sweet Celestia am I glad to see you!” I said as the rotor came to a full stop.

“I can say the same for yourself Stokes. We were informed about what was going on and hauled ass up here. I brought most of the shop with me.” It was about then I noticed an absolute ocean of ponies coming out of the six passenger cars that we hooked up behind #9327.

That’s when Ash Pan’s words registered in my head, “Wait. You were in Vanhoover, and the telegraph lines are snapped, so how did you hear about us being stranded?”

“Well, even with you being sent out, Tall Tale needed a way to communicate with us. So they got in contact with some friends, and after contacting two dozen radio operators, they set up a relay system where messages from Tall Tale would be sent to Appaloosa, then to Ponyville, then Canterlot, up to the Crystal Empire, and then finally down to us. Took about seven times as long to send and receive messages, but it allowed communication. Crankshaft and Blastpipe stopped at the signal box on the opposite side of the summit, whose operator got in contact with Tall Tale, who in a roundabout way got in contact with us back in Vanhoover, and we hauled ass up here.” Ash Pan explained, as the shop ponies ran past us back to the passenger cars, an unconscious Spotlight and banged up Knuckle in tow.

I watched the ponies load themselves, shocked that they already had Spotlight and Knuckles out of #04, as Coal Dust walked up behind me, “Come on Stokes, let’s get back to Vanhoover. First drink is on me.”

I didn’t say anything, I just nodded as I climbed into #07, joining Ash Pan and Rocking Grate, #07 boiler operator, and sat down at the back of the snow blower behind the pistons, and just zoned out.

Brake, Funnel, Spotlight, and Knuckle were all sent to the hospital after making it to either end of The Grade. Brake Check and Funnel Flare were both in relatively decent conditions, each mostly suffering from frostbite after spending the night on underneath a snow bank, the worst injury either of them got was received by Brake Check, being a sprained right forehoof.

Spotlight and Knuckle came out of the ordeal a little worse. Knuckle came off the better of the two, receiving a concussion, a broken rib, and a sprained rear hoof. Spotlight was able to stabilized when he got to the hospital, and regained consciousness two days after the wreck. He had received a nasty concussion, two cracked ribs, and a deep laceration across the back of his head. He would eventually fully recover, but never went back to fully work for the railway. Sure he did the office work required of him to help run the railroad, but he never ran another train over The Grade. He was scared away from the one thing that had once been his entire world.

Cleaning up the wreck of #9320 and #04 was easier than we had thought it would have been. Only the first quarter mile of the train came off the line. We dug out the last derailed railcar, an old wooden box car if I remember correctly, and then hooked up three HG10’s to the rear coupler on the caboose, and just yanked them out of the snow. We then had to dig the derailed cars out, or yank them out with a crane, if the snow on top of them wasn’t too thick. It took four days to clear up the wreck and fix the destroyed track, before The Grade could reopen.

We didn’t know it at the time, but this would be the main building block that the noble shareholders would use in a case to to prove that Spotlight and the others weren’t capable of running the railroad. 

By the first day of spring, which was only two months later, the nobles had full control of the line.
> Chapter 3: No rest for the weary
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I opened the door to Semaphore’s office and happily let myself in. “Hey Sem!” I called as I closed the door behind me, making the old stallion jump. 

“Fire Stoker? Last I heard you and Coal Dust were stranded on the Tall Tale end of The Grade.” Semaphore replied, as he gathered himself up. 

“We were.” I stated as I sat down in front of his desk. “But Ash Pan came to our rescue in #9366.”

That sure got Sem’s attention, “#9366? A HG-10 running on Tall Tale metals again? I never thought I'd see the day.”

I chuckled a little, “You and everyone else on the railway. They were gonna come save us in some 4-8-2, but the brake lines on that engine turned out to be shot. Shops back in Tall Tale were using #9366 as their main boiler, and she was actually still in decent condition, so they unchocked her wheels and let Ash have her.”

Semaphore nodded, impressed, “Really, now ain't that something.” He then smacked his hooves onto his desk, “Well, what can I do for ya?”

“Well I assumed that there would be a run waiting for me.”

“Well there was, but we rostered another crew for it. We thought you wouldn't make the rest of the trip yourself. They probably left about fifteen minutes ago if The Grade opened back up. I don't really have anything that needs a crew for a while, so just park up ol’ 66 and take a rest for a few. I'll have someone let you know if something pops up.”

I nodded as I stood up, “Alright Sem. I'll get out your hair and let you get back to work. If something does come up, I'll most likely be in the back shops.”

A puzzled expression crossed Semaphore’s face, “The back shops? Why would you be back there?”

“#9366 is in rough shape, and she deserves a good look over by her old driver. Plus, if the shops think I’m giving her back without a fight, they’re crazy.”

Sem just shook his head and laughed, “Whatever you say Stokes. Just take care of yourself.”

I laughed as I opened the office’s door, “Can do Sem, see ya.”

“Take care Stokes.”

I made my way back to 66 quickly, to make sure everything was still intact. I got back to find a 2-6-0 yard goat already disassembling our train. I waved to the loco’s engineer, who waved back, before pulling myself back into 66’s cab.

I checked the boiler pressure, to find that it had dropped, but was still high enough to move the engine alone. I reached over Ash Pan, who was still asleep, to the injector and turned it off. I then dropped my hoof and let it bounce off Ash Pan’s head. 

“Huh, what, I-I wasn’t asleep on the job!” Ash shouted as he bolted upright.

I couldn’t help but laugh, earning a death glare from Ash, “Why did you let me fall asleep? The engine could have exploded!” He shouted at me.

I continued to laugh, “Cause you looked like you’d been up for a week straight. Don’t worry, I had the injector going to make sure the boiler didn’t get too hot.”

That made Ash Pan snap his gaze to the boiler gauges, “Aw come on! You made the boiler pressure drop!”

“Don’t worry about it, we just need enough pressure to get the ol’ girl over to the shops, and we have plenty of steam for that.”

Ash grumbled, “Yeah true. Just, just don’t do that in the future.”

I nodded as I cracked the regulator open, “Duly noted.”

We were able to quickly make our way over to the shops, and parked outside of general maintenance bay #2.

“Hey Stokes, you need me for anything else?” Ash Pan asked.

I thought about it for a second, “Nah, I think I should be good.”

Ash Pan yawned, “Good, I’m gonna head over to the bunks and get some rest. Later Stokes.” Ash Pan muttered through another yawn as he climbed out of #9366’s cab and made his way over to the bunk houses.

I climbed down soon after, and made my way into the shops. As I walked toward the back shops, the sounds of machines pounding away at freshly shaped and machines metal, along with the locomotives they were to be installed on, grew louder and louder. 

I smiled as I opened a work door into the back, and was met by the full force of the noise. It had taken a while to get used to, but I now almost missed the noise hell that was the back shops. 

I walked in and quickly turned left, making a beeline for the back left corner of the massive shop space. I had only one pony in mind to help me with #9366, and I knew she wouldn't be able to say no. 

As I maneuvered my way past the torn apart carcass of one of the early 4-8-4’s, I caught sight of my target. Red tends to stand out in a place of grey and black. 

“Hey Red Hot!”

The pegasus mare, one of the few pegasi that worked for the railway, turned around, with a half smile adorning her face. 

Heat Temper, or Red Hot, was another pony I knew from my time in the shops, if just barely. I was finishing up my last few weeks in the back shops when she was hired on. It didn't take her long to grow accustom to back shop life, and now 9 years later, she was the mechanical manager of Vanhoover’s back shops. 

Not bad for a 31 year old. 

“Well look at what the timberwolves dragged in. It's been awhile since I've seen you in the back shops Stokes, how ya been?” She said as she reached out her hoof. 

I happily took it in a hoof shake, “Oh you know, slinging trains over The Grade, and breaking them in the process.”

“Heh yeah, I heard about you and Coal being stuck up near the summit. Where’s he at by the way?”

“By now, hopefully in the hospital back in Tall Tale. Engine threw a shoe through the cab, and it nearly took his head off.”

“Damn. I take it that you couldn't finish the run with that engine.”

“Nope. Tall Tale sent up a replacement engine. That's actually why I came back here looking for you.”

“Oh Yeah, what engine did they give ya?”

“Sent up #9366 to save me.”

Red Hot’s eyes popped open behind her safety glasses at that, “#9366, an HG-10, back on Tall Tale metals, never thought I'd hear about that again.” 

I laughed, “That's basically what Semaphore said, and trust me I wasn't expecting it either. Anyways, Tall Tale had been using ol’ 66 as their main back shop boiler, so she’s in rough shape. I was wondering if you could giver her a once over.”

Red’s eyes lit up, “I’d love to! Bring it in on bay 5, and I'll have her better than new by the end of the day.”

I was a little shocked at the fact that Red was so eager to work on 66, “Uh, ok. I'm kinda surprised you'd be this eager to work on my old engine.”

“You kidding? It’s been way too long since I've had the chance to work on one of The definitive Tall Tale Ten Wheelers.”

I smiled, “Yeah, fair point. Alright, I'll go get the old girl.”

I turned and walked away, going out the back of the shops so I could set the switches for the tracks up to bay 5. As I was making my way around the side of the shop, there was a blast of an engine’s whistle. 

“Hey Stokes, that you!”

I looked over to where the whistle had come from, and saw a small 2-4-2 tank engine stopped two tracks over, leaning out of the right side of the cab, was Smoke Box.

I smiled as I walked over to the small tank engine, “Smoke Box, it’s been way too long. How’s things going?” I said as I reached out my hoof.

Smoke Box happily bumped it before replying, “Oh not to bad. It’d be better if I wasn’t stuck on yard duty, but all in all, 8.5 outta 10.”

I looked past Smoke Box to see a colt I didn’t know, trying to hide himself on the other side of the cab, not daring to make eye contact with me. I then looked back to Smoke, “So where’s Piston Rod at. Did he fake being sick just to get out of yard duty? Again.”

Smoke Box laughed, “No, no, no, Piston got put on train heading down to Hoofington because the train’s original fire-pony had to stay here in Vanhoover.”

When he finished, I looked past him and motioned to the colt on the other side of the cab, who was still trying to stay hidden, “So, who’s the colt?”

The colt seemed to be shocked that I called him out, but didn’t do anything before Smoke Box spoke up, “Oh him, he’s new. They put me with him with me so he could get the hang of firing without having to leave the yard.”

Smoke Box then looked over his shoulder at the young colt, “Go ahead kid, introduce yourself. Stokes here won't bite.”

Fire Box hesitated for a few seconds before finally mumbling, “H-Hello sir. M-My name’s Fire Box.”

I shook my head, the colt was terrified to even talk to me. He also was talking with a definite, non-Tall Tale accent, “Fire Box you say. Well Fire Box, where'd you come from?”

“I used to live in Canterlot, but I was raised in Hoofington, sir.”

“What'd you do out in Canterlot?” Things were starting to add up about this colt. 

“I was a cleaner, and just started to learn how to fire. I starting working on the Celestial Pacific out there last year, sir.”

“Oh really? What brings you out here then?”

“A-After a few incidents, management said if I didn't want to show respect, I could go work with other ponies who don't show respect.”

I held a straight face for about ten seconds, before I broke down laughing. “Sweet Celestia, they screwed you up good didn’t they kid!” It took me a few moments to get myself under control, before I caught the colt’s attention again, “First off, Fire Box, my name’s not ‘Sir’. Name’s Fire Stoker, but most ponies just call me Stokey and Stokes for short. Trust me when I say this, there is no one on this railway that will make you refer to them as sir. Even the original owners would sooner force you to fire a train without a shovel before they told you to call any of them sir.”

That seemed to shock the colt, and he didn’t get much time to think before I continued, “Second, despite what those head up their ass idiots back in the capital told you, we are a very respectful bunch out here in the Smokey’s. We may not hold respect for the managers back in Canterlot, for good reasons, but when it comes to our fellow rail-runners, and the equipment we use, we are very respectful.”

I then turned back to Smoke Box, allowing Fire to think over what I had just said, “So what are you up to?”

“Oh we were just about to sling across the next few tracks to we can give this old girl over to the back shop crew. The brakes are starting to get a little weak, and the steam chest has a leak. Speaking of the back shops, what were you doing messing with the back shop switches.”

I looked over my shoulder at where I had come from, “Oh those, well I have an engine that I have to put into the shops too. I was just setting the road so I could get into bay #5.”

Smoke Box cocked an eye at me, “What engine could you possibly need to bring into the shops?”

“Well, when Ash Pan came to rescue me and Dusty from #3800, he brought along #9366. He stole her from the Tall Tale shops. She had been their main boiler for almost two years now.”

Smoke Box looked shocked, “#9366. As in HG-10 #9366?”

I smiled and nodded, “The one and only. I got her sitting out front.”

The smile that formed on Smoke Box’s face, was actually kinda creepy, “Outta my way!” He yelled as he jumped off the hoof plate of the tank engine, which I finally noticed was #2, the first engine built for the railway, and ran toward the front of the shops.

I looked back up into #2’s cab, to see Fire Box staring off in the direction of the disappearing form of Smoke, “Um, Fire Stoker, why did he do that? Also, what’s an HG-10? They taught me about almost every class of engine back in Canterlot, but I’ve never heard about HG-10’s.”

“I’m not surprised. Canterlot refuses to acknowledge the existence of HG-10’s, they’ve been trying to erase every trace of the old railway since they came into power. Anyways, HG-10’s were heavy duty freight engines built specifically for this line to handle the steep grades on the main line. They were the favorite engine of every crew on the line, but they haven’t been run in four years because the corporate big wigs in Canterlot say they’re too inefficient. Despite the fact that they ran for years under the old management without a complaint about their efficiency.”

Fire Box looked confused, “I’ve heard that the grades around here are steep, but are they really that bad that it dictates a special class of engine for them?”

“Well I’ll put it to you this way, on this side of the main line, there is a 14 mile long section of line up near the summit that has a 2.9% grade.”

Again, Fire Box looked shocked, “2.9%! That’s ridiculous! How could a railway run trains over something like that?”

I smiled as I realized the colt was coming out of the shell Canterlot had built around him, and was starting to act like, what I assumed, was his normal self. “Well we either we run shorter trains, or use HG-10’s.” I replied, with that smile still plastered to my face. 

Fire Box finally started to climb out of #2’s cab, “Alright, I have to see this engine.”

The two of us walked around to the front of the shops, and I watched with a smile as Fire Box’s jaw dropped, “Holy Crap.”

“Stokes, get up here! I haven’t fired a HG-10 in years!” Smoke Box yelled from inside 66’s cab.

I looked over to Fire Box, to see him still staring at #9366, “Come-on, you can gawk at my engine after we get her back to the shop.” I said as I walked over to 66 and climbed up into the cab. I turned to see Fire still standing where I had left him, “Well come-on kid!”

That finally got Fire Box’s attention, and he ran over to 66 and flew up the ladder into her cab. With my full crew, I blew the whistle, and started us backwards. 

After reversing past the set of points that lead to the back shops and flipping them, I happily drove #9366 around to the back and lined her up with the open doors of bay #5. With the precision the only comes with years of practice, I pulled 66 into the shops, and stopped right at the end of bay #5 perfectly, without even bumping the rail chocks. 

“You should probably go get 2 before she destroys herself.” I said over my shoulder to Smoke Box, who was acting like it was his first time firing an engine again. 

It took a second for my words to register in Smoke’s head, but finally he begrudgingly pulled himself away from 66’s controls and motioned to Fire Box, “Come on Fire, let's go get the tank.”

As those two disembarked the hoof plate to go get their engine, I worked on putting #9366 down for a nap. As I was finishing up in the cab, I heard a loud squeal of glee come from outside, “Oh Celestia even rusty she’s beautiful!” 

If there was any one pony that loved the HG-10 more than I did, it was Red. 

I looked out the right side of the cab and saw the second pony of the day gawking at #9366. Red Hot looked like she was about to hug the massive engine, only being put off by the fact that she would burn herself if she did. 

I climbed down from the cab and walked over to her, “My old girl really that captivating to you?” I asked with a know-it-all smirk on my face. 

She waved a hoof at me, “Away with you and your mockery. I haven't had the chance to lay eyes on a HG-10 in four years, so excuse me if I'm a little excited.”

I just chuckled, “It's fine Heat, I missed her just as much. Now come and help me dump the fire and blow out the boiler so she can cool down enough for you start working.”

Red Hot happily nodded, jumping up and back onto her hooves before following my over to the fire box. 

By the time we had dumped out the fire and blown out the boiler (which was basically just opening a few valves so the remaining steam and water in the boiler was blown out), Smoke Box and Fire Box had returned with #2. 

Red looked over at the massively dwarfed little shunter, and grinned slightly, “Oh yeah, the little old shunter that could, forgot I needed to work on that to. Not like it would take long to finish anyways.” She said before going back to giving #9366 a good look over, to see what needed immediate repair and what could wait. 

The way Red said that made something click in the back of my mind, “Hey Red, speaking of little old engines, where’s #1 hiding? Or did the nobles finally find her?”

The red mare shook her head, “No they haven't found that old girl yet. She's still in her little hidey hole on the other end of the shop. Unfortunately, I've had a lot on my plate these last few months, and haven’t been able to do much for her.”

I nodded thoughtfully, “Either way, I gonna go check on her. You gonna be ok lookin after 66?”

Red laughed, “Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm just gonna get started on #9366’s repairs.”

“Oh, you already got everything figured hm? So tell me, what's the damage?”

“Well it's not too bad actually, I'd give that up to the fact that the boiler was needed to be kept in working condition. However, her pipes are old and need to be replaced. Also, a couple of the rust spots on the smoke box need to be cut out and patched. I'd really like to just replace the whole thing, but I don't have the materials to do that, so patches are just gonna have to do. Besides that, the brake system underneath the engine is a little too rusty for my liking, the Coal feed tube from the tender needs some patch work, and two of the shoes on the main drive wheels have fatigue cracks.”

I could almost hear the devilish grin her face defiantly had as she said, “And considering your latest performance, you and bad drive shoes don't mix.”

I groaned as I held my hoof up to my head, “Red, I am this close to slapping you for that comment. If it had come from anyone else, they'd be unconscious right now.”

Red Hot turned and batted her eyes at me, “Oh Stokey, you make it sound like you'd ever actually touch me. We both know that I'd win in a fight between us anyways.”

“I swear, one of these days we’re gonna put that theory to the test. But right now, I'm gonna go look over #1.”

Red walked over to me, “You go do that.” She said as she patted my head like I was a child. With a fake huff of indignance, I climbed out of #9366’s cab. 

As I touched down on the shop’s main floor, I looked up to see the bemused face of Smoke Box and the once again confused face of Fire Box. 

I didn't say anything as I just walked away toward the other end of the shop and #1. As I walked, I heard the distant sound of two sets of hoof steps as Fire Box and Smoke fell in behind me. 

With a grin, I called over my shoulder, “Hey kid, word of advice. You're gonna loose a little sanity working on a railway, it just comes with the job.  So don't try to fight it, that'll just make the descent into madness worst.”

I could tell by the howling laughs that came from Smoke not long after I went silent that the look on Fire Box’s face was priceless. That knowledge just made my grin grow bigger the longer the laughter lasted. 

It didn't take us much time to cross over to the other side of the shop, to see one of the oldest 4-6-4 passenger engines still in the fleet sitting in bay #1 for a boiler re-pipe . But that wasn't the engine I was after. 

I walked around the front of the dismantled engine to the wall on her left side. There was nothing interesting about this wall, the only thing that stood out being the massive hole in the top that allowed the back shop’s massive main crane to pass over it. Any time inspectors came by, we told them that the door led to a room used to repair the crane when it was acting up. 

At one point, that had been true, now, not so much. I opened the door to expose nothing but a dark room, and as I trotted in, followed closely by Smoke and Fire Box, I flicked on the lights. 

As the lights brought the room to life, I heard Fire Box gasp. I was starting to wonder if the colt was getting tired of all the surprises from today. 

Sitting there, on a temporary set of rails, was an old, beaten, and run down engine. The boiler and four large main drive wheels were coated in rust. The single axle guide truck had been removed and was sitting off toward the side. The wood that made up the cab was rotted, and the wooden main body of the shunting plate wasn't in much better condition. Barely visible on the flaking black paint of the cab, was a faded golden number 1. 

She was the first engine the railway ever owned. And while she had been bought second hoof from another railway, it didn't make her any less of a true Tall Tale engine. 

“Hello old girl, nice to see you again.” I whispered to myself as I walked up and run my hoof over the rust coated boiler. I had seen engines in worse shape that this be returned to service before, but that didn't mean she wasn't in dire need of some TLC. 

“What is this?” Fire Box asked as he walked up next to me, looking all over the engine. 

I smiled as memories of this engine flooded my mind, “This little 2-4-0 beauty is #1, old faithful. She was the first engine to be bought for the line when it was being built, and she ran it for years afterwards.”  

“This thing pulled trains up that 2.9?” Fire asked.

I heard a chuckle from behind me, “Oh Celestia no. You gotta remember this Fire, the line didn't always run over the Smokey Mountains. Originally the line just ran over the mostly flat land between Tall Tale and Hoofington. The Old Grade wasn't finished until three years after the line was opened. We tried a few times to use Old Faithful on Grade trains, but it just wasn't what she was built for. She was built for “high speeds” over the flats. And believe it or not, she wasn't half bad at keeping to the time tables.” Smoke Box explained as he walked up on the other side of the Fire Box. 

I nodded as I turned to Fire, “Exactly. But that's not her entire story. See, back before this happens to her, she was part of a tradition. If you wanted to be an engineer, the first locomotive you drove and fired was good old #1. She was my first, same with Smoke Box. in fact, if you go up to any fire pony or engineer who's worked on the railway for more than four years and ask them what was their first engine, they'll all tell you it was ol’ #1 gere. Ain't that right Smoke?” Smoke Box nodded in agreement. 

Once again, a confused look crossed Fire Box’s face, I swear his face was gonna freeze with that look, before he asked, “Wait, drive and fire? Why would a training engineer learn how to drive and fire a locomotive? Wouldn't you just focus on driving? That's what they did with us new hires back in Canterlot.”

I smiled a little, “Well if you haven't already guessed, Tall Tale, and Vanhoover by extension, are immersed with old traditions when it comes to the railroad. They mostly stem from the old days when engines and other parts of the railway weren't as reliable or safe as they are now. Engineers, for example, used to have to spend two years working in the shops, front or back, before they’re even allowed on a hoof plate for training. They also once had to learn to fire an engine in case anything happens to their fire pony.”

That made Fire Box flinch in surprise, “Really? That makes some sense, but seems kinda unnecessary. Especially the shop part.”

“You may think so, but put yourself in the minds of the railway owners. If you have to spend two years in the shop, it forces you to be around the engines. Clean them, work on them, tear them apart, learn how they tick. It also forces you to acknowledge the awesome might of these machines and the destructive power they have when you try to cut corners. During my five years in the shops, I saw my fair share of wrecked engines. Some just from minor derailments, others that had barrel rolled down a mountain, and even a few boiler explosions. Those were rare, much rarer than they are now, but they still happened, no pony is perfect. Even engineers who were considered the best of the best, put engines in the back shop due to one tiny mistake. Steam engines, especially on this line, require constant attention, as they can turn into deadly weapons of destruction if handled improperly. Some ponies are just not cut out for the somewhat stressful life that comes with being a hoof plate operator. You have to be absolutely sure that it's what you want to do with your life, and be prepared for anything the line might throw at you. There's a reason why us rail ponies act a little strange around each other, it's our way of handling the stress that comes with our job. You'll come to understand what I mean the longer you work on the railway.” 

I almost closed my eyes as I recited that speech. Much of it had been said to me by Hot Box when I first stated that I wanted to work for the railroad. Even he had paid his dues, worked his two years in the shop before becoming an engineer. It was a warning eventually told, in one way or another, to all new rail ponies by one of the old guard. It wasn't something said to scare the new workers, well not intentionally at least, but make them understand the responsibilities that came with the live job that they were going to have to accept. They were words that nearly every Tall Tale worker lived by, and for many, they had been words that saved their lives. Sometimes on more than one occasion. 

Fire Box stood there for a few moments, letting what I had said sink in, “Wow, that actually makes a lot of sense. I've never heard somepo-wait a second, did you say you sent five years in the shops?”

I nodded as I stepped away from #1, “Yep. I started in the shops when I was 15 as a greaser. Still had to do my “two years” when I turned 18, but it was well worth it. They're days that I won't forget and I'm happy I lived them.”

Before Fire Box got a chance to say anything about me starting on the railway at 15, I walked away, going around #1 and giving her a look over. ”Man, Red wasn’t kidding when she said that she didn’t get to anything while I was gone. It looks like all she was able to do was finish replacing the left cylinder.”

Just as I finished doing my round, I heard Fire Box speak up again, “Now wait, you still never answered my question. Why is this engine here? Why is she so messed up if she was such a part of railway tradition? And why is it so important that the Canterlot owners don’t know about her?”

I sighed, “Well, about four years ago, just before winter started to set in, we were in the process of training a new driver down in Tall Tale. The young colt was feeling the pressure that can come with a run, as we were putting him through a mock stopping passenger run. As he was pulling away from a stop, he forgot to open the cylinder cocks, and sure enough, blew apart the left cylinder. The boiler was damaged to, as it was getting close to needing its five year rebuild and the metal had severally weakened. Because of that, instead of putting her in the back shops for just a cylinder replacement, it was to be put in for its five year service. The only issue with that was, the railway’s managers only allowed 5 engine’s to be in the back shops for five year services at one time. Keep the shops from being completely filled with five years. At that moment in time when #1 blew, those five spaces were filled. So we put her in a siding next to the shops, and left her there in waiting for the back shops to have enough spaces for her. Unfortunately, two months later there was a nasty accident near the summit of The Old Grade, and that filled up the shops on both sides of The Grade, so #1 was put on the back burner. By the time any of the shop spaces opened up that #1 could have occupied, the new managers from Canterlot had taken over, and were making changes for the worse.”

“Wait, so the nobles in Canterlot didn’t always run the railway?” Fire Box said, interrupting me.

Thankfully, Smoke answered his question for me, “Oh dear Faust no! Have you not been listening to half of what we've been saying for the last hour? They only started controlling the railway four years ago. Before that, the railway was run by the ponies who had originally started the railway. Ditchlight, Bulkhead, and Highball ran the railway right, because they had started out as engineers and fire ponies themselves, so they understood our plight.”

I nodded, “Exactly, and when Canterlot took over it ruined everything. Even after spaces opened up, no order was given to put #1 in for repairs. In fact, multiple orders were made outright saying that she was not to be touched at all. Eventually after sitting for over two years, they ordered #1 to be sold for scrap. As you can imagine, that didn’t go over well with us old railway hooves. So when she was supposed to be put on a train heading down to Appaloosa to a scrap yard, we ‘accidentally’ put her on a train heading up to the Crystal Empire. When the train stopped her in Vanhoover to be refueled, we took her off the train and hid her here. She's been sitting here ever since, slowly being rebuilt by me, Red Hot, and a few others. If the nobles in Canterlot ever found out about her, they'd probably burn down the shops around her just to try and destroy her.”

That was the final shocker for Fire Box, “Really, Canterlot would go that far?”

Smoke Box walked up next to me and we both nodded simultaneously. 

Fire Box sat down as our words sunk in. However, he didn't get much time to think before an alarm started blaring through the back shops. 

“What's that?” Fire Box asked concerned. 

I whipped my head around toward the door that lead back into the shops, “That's the main alarm! Someone jumped track!”

With that said, or more appropriately yelled, I ran over to the door, tore it open, then ran into the shops. That alarm was something no one liked to hear as it meant that an engine had come off the tracks. I had heard it only twice when I was working in the shops and it hadn't been a drill, but we ran that drill enough times for me to know exactly where I needed to go. 

I ran into an office in the middle of the shop, to find the main emergency ponies from the shops already crammed in. I found Red Hot at the front, and rushed up to her. 

“Red, what do we got?”

She looked over her shoulder at me, “We got a 175 on the ground 7 miles out of the yard. We have reports saying that it rolled on the last sharp corner before the yard.”

I noticed that the office was starting to empty, as the others ran off to the wreck recovery train. The wreck recovery train wasn’t much, as it was only to old 4-6-2’s, with two cranes, and three coaches. Two of these coaches were used to hold work teams that helped with recovery and give care to anypony who was on the train that wrecked, while the other was used as a rolling hospital.

It might not seem like much, but the cranes on the train were the secret weapon. Bertha and Big Bud, the names of the two 350 ton capacity cranes, were absolutely massive, as you can imagine if you know anything about railway cranes. Each could easily lift up 3800 on their own, and measured the length of the two 4-6-2’s combined, a piece. 

When I was working in the shops, I was one of the few who were trained to to operate the two massive cranes, as they were very complex machines to operate. It was a lot easier to drive a HG-10 up The Old Grade with a 300 behind her then operate one of those cranes in my opinion. But it was fun as heck despite the complexity.

It seemed like they had everything under control, so I turned to leave, ironically just as Fire Box and Smoke were running in, when somepony pushed through the the two of them and run up to Red Hot. “Temper, we got a problem!” They yelled as they came to a stop in front of Red.

“What is it Steam Dome?” She asked, the expression on her face turning downcast.

Steam Dome, a somewhat new hire to the railway, replied with, “We have no one to operate Bertha or fire R2. Scrap Metal didn’t show up for work today.” 

Red Hot groaned, “This is why I told those inspectors that we need more than just two ponies who know how to operate the cranes.” Then Red’s head popped up and she turned toward where Me, Fire, and Smoke were standing.

“Stokes, you were one of Bertha’s operators back when you worked for the shops right?”

I nodded, “Yeah, I was her secondary operator and cleaner for three years.” I could see where she was going with this.

Red Hot smiled, “Perfect, you’re coming with us.” She then pointed to Smoke and Fire Box, “You two, you’re firing. Now the four of you, get moving!” 

Steam Dome nodded and shot out of the office, quickly followed by myself, Fire, Smoke, and Red.

It took no time at all to arrive at the small shed that was used to store the wreck recovery train, to find the two engines R1 and R2 fired up and ready to go. But, as I was looking Bertha over for the first time in years, I noticed that the her boiler still sat cold. Curiously, I looked back at Big Bud to see that his boiler sat much the same way, cold and unlit.

“Red, why hasn’t anyone fired up the boilers of the cranes? You know as much as I do that these things take around 20 minutes to wake up and bring to pressure.” 

Red sighed, “Management, that’s why. They made a rule saying we can't fire up the cranes’ boilers until we are where we need to be.”

I shook my head and frowned, “Well that’s a load of bullshit.” I said as I walked up the ladder so I could climb into R2. But just as I grabbed the hoof rail, a thought clicked in my head. “You know what, screw them. Smoke Box, get into Bud and get his fire lit, I’m gonna fire up Bertha. Fire Box, you stay here and fire R2.” I ordered.

Smoke Box didn’t say anything, he just nodded and jumped down out of R2 and ran toward Big Bud. Fire Box however, looked stunned as he stood in the cab, “Wait, I’m firing on the main line? But I’m not certified! I’ve only been firing engines for three months. I haven't even fired anything bigger than a 2-6-0!”

I chuckled, “Damn you’ve spent three months stuck as a yard fire-pony? They have changed the rules around, we used to let people out of the yard for their first time after just over a month if they proved themselves. Don’t worry kid, you’ll be fine. You’re just firing the pusher engine, so if you mess up a little, it won’t affect much.”

With that said, I ran over to Bertha and climbed in her cab. I was greeted by a mass of different levers that all connected to the pistons that ran the different pulleys that then actually moved the massive crane. There were also a series of newer looking levers that were used to control the boiler, along with the boiler’s read out gauges. 

It was a very complicated and confusing system. Not only did the crane operator have to stay focused on whatever he or she was doing so they didn't end up dropping an engine on a ground worker, but they also had to keep an eye on the boiler to make sure it was still making steam, or wasn't about to blow up. It hadn't always been this way, but cramming two ponies into the tiny cab of Bertha just so one could run the boiler was found to be kinda unpractical. While the new system put a bit more stress on the crane's operator, as they now had to pull double duty, everypony had agreed that the new system was the better of the two options.

I quickly got to work getting Bertha’s fire going so I could start building pressure. It was then R2 blew her whistle, signaling they were ready to go. Not long after, R1’s whistle blew, and there was a jerk as the train got moving, and we started our rush to the wreck. 

As I finished building Bertha’s fire, I couldn't help but look over at the massive cable spools that were connected to the two main heavy hooks and that boom they were connected to. 

With the cranes rated for a maximum capacity of 350 tons, you can imagine that the cables used for operating these essential components were very thick. And they were. The cables used on the main drag hooks were two inches thick, with the ones for the boom at a slightly larger three inches in diameter. 

I turned back to the fire and smiled as I saw that the fire Box had roared to life, and pressure was being made. With the boiler started and working itself out I walked back over to the right side of the crane where the controls were, and watched as the pressure gauges slowly began to rise. 

I looked up out the front of the crane, and watched as R1 took the final switch out of the yard, and we thundered onto the main line. I knew it wouldn't take long for us to reach the wreck. So I just opened the window next to me, and sat back to enjoy the ride.

It took us only about ten minutes to reach the site of the wreck. I was shocked to see what had happened when we came to a stop just before the corner. The locomotive, a now thoroughly destroyed 4-8-2, sat about forty feet away from the tracks down the small embankment next to the track, partly buried by part of its train. The rest of the train, which appeared to be a train of empty coal gondolas, had completely cleared the tracks and sat varying distances down the embankment.

The second the wreck recovery train came to a stop, the teams of ponies who had been riding in the two coaches burst out of them and broke into two teams. One set ran off toward the back of the train to check on the ponies that most likely were in the caboose. 

The rest of the ponies ran off to the engine to check on the crew. I stayed back in Bertha and watched as everyone ran to check on the crew of the derailed train. It was then Red Hot ran up besides Bertha. 

“Alright Stokes, you think you can handle this?” She asked.

I surveyed the situation again. There was nothing here that would max out either of the cranes, and the tracks looked like they were still intact. “Yeah, I think I got this under control.” 

I then looked out to see the ponies that had ran off for the locomotive, were slowly walking back. One of their number were using his body to support a limping pony dressed in engineer’s denims. Two others were carrying the fire pony on their backs. My eyes widened as I recognized one of these ponies immediately.

Without saying a word to Red, I bolted out of Bertha and ran toward the group. I quickly fell in next to the limping engineer, who turned and cracked a faltering smile, “Hey Stoker. It’s been a while.” 

I had to just stare for a second, “Knuckle, what are you doing here? I thought you retired two years ago?”

Knuckle tried to laugh, but instead just winced in pain, “I did. But I was in the office catching up with Spotlight, when someone came in saying that a train was short an engineer. Since I had nothing better to do, and I wanted to run The Old Grade again, I offered to take the train. So I borrowed a pair of denims, and picked up my engine and train. The shop ponies warned me that the brakes were going to be weak because they hadn't had the chance to finish working on them since the engine was only brought in this morning. So I swapped trains with somepony else, and took these gondolas.”

Hearing him mention the fact that the engine had been brought in that morning sent alarm bells ringing in my head. A 4-8-2 that was brought to the shops this morning with weak brakes. That was just too perfect to be a coincidence. “So what happened?”

He sighed, “We were coming down Nightmare, and I started applying the brakes. At first we were fine, sure the brakes were a little weak and I had to use more pressure than normal, but things were holding. Then, all of the sudden, the wheels caught grip on the rails and locked up. I went to release the brakes, but there was a loud pop, and the brakes lost all pressure. I tried a couple of times to use the main air brakes after that, but there was just no pressure in the system.”

That is a catastrophic problem, for those of you who haven't guessed that already. See, most Equestrian engines operate on an air brake system, unlike the Crystal Empire, for example, that uses a vacuum brake system. Our air brakes use high pressure air to force the brake blocks against the wheels while a vacuum system uses vacuum pressure to hold the brake blocks away from the wheels. 

This means the two systems act very differently when a hole develops in the brake lines. When a hole develops in a vacuum brake system, the vacuum that holds the brakes off is lost, and the brakes are forced to apply. However when a hole develops in our air brake systems, the air escapes through that hole, and the brakes can no longer build pressure, thus they can no longer be applied. 

There are pros and cons to both systems and reasons why we don't use vacuum and the Crystal Empire doesn't use air, but that's an argument that could take a week to fully explain, so I won't. 

“What about the locomotive brake, and the hoof brakes?” I asked. The loco and hoof brakes were both mechanically operated, and thus would not be affected by the loss of air. 

“I used the loco brake and the hoof brakes on the locomotive and tender, but they didn't do much. It felt like their brake blocks were old and worn.” Knuckle then looked past me, up the tracks, as we climbed the embankment, toward the end of the train. “Quick Stop must have realized something was wrong and pulled the emergency brake back in the caboose, I felt the back of the train jerk as if the brakes came on. Thankfully these new cabooses have their own pressure generators, as they helped at least partly apply the brakes on some of the gondolas at the back of the train, but with the hoses on the engine still gone, they couldn't build much pressure. I don't know how we got off The Grade in one piece, yet we did somehow on just old mechanical brakes and a small piece of air brake. But, once we got onto the last stretch of The Grade, my loco brakes gave out, with the hoof brakes giving up too. I don't remember how fast we were going then, but when I caught sight of this corner, we were doing about 73 mph. I knew we weren't going to make the corner, so I just told Rocking Grate to brace, and we just hung on for the ride. Engine hit the ground on her left side, and rolled maybe two times before it skidded to a stop where she is. I got thrown around pretty good and so did Rocker, but we’re just happy the boiler held out through all that abuse.” Knuckle finished as we stopped next to the medical coach. 

I felt that coming off where he did was the only reason Knuckle and Rocker were able to survive. The ground outside of Vanhoover was a mix of sand and dirt, and was incredibly soft. I had heard many a horror story from Ditchlight and Highball about how much of a nightmare it had been to build tracks over that area. If Knuckle had come off anywhere else, the impact with the ground most likely would have rupture the boiler, and sent him and Rocker on a one way ticket to the railway in the sky during the ensuing explosion. 

“Don't worry about it Knuckle, we’ll take care of things here. You just sit back and try to take it easy.” I said as I helped the older stallion into the coach. I then helped load in Rocking Grate, as Quick Stop was already in the coach. I didn't know Rocking Grate or Quick Stop that well myself, but I knew them well enough to know they didn't deserve to go through what they just had, neither did Knuckle. 

In this period of time, another engine had arrived from Vanhoover, and after some shuffling, the coach was attached that engine, and was quickly on its way back to Vanhoover. 

With the crew of the train finally out of the way, the recovery work began. I made my way back to Bertha to find Red Hot waiting for me. “Alright, here’s the plan Stokes. I'm gonna head up to the to the rear of the train with R1 and Bud, then work my way back down. I want you to stay down here and work on recovering the engine. Try and keep her in as few pieces as physically possible. Once the engine is back up, work you way up the train and we’ll meet in the middle, ok?”

I just nodded as I climbed past her, and up into Bertha’s cab. As I eased myself into the seat next to her controls, I took a deep breath. I hadn't done this in nearly five years, so I was a little nervous. I then looked over the boiler’s gauges, closed the main injector, and looked out the window. Sure enough, as I looked out at the wrecked locomotive, one of the ground crew stallions started signaling for me to rotate Bertha’s massive boom toward him. 

I nodded, and turned to the rows of levers. I pulled down on two right next to each other, pushing out the four stabilization legs that keep the crane from rolling over when lifting or pulling something. Once they were fully deployed, I released those two levers, and pulled on two others, deploying the actual feet that made contact with the ground.

Once I was sure that the crane was stable, I let go of those two levers, and gently pulled on another one. With a loud rush of steam, the boom slowly started to lift off the rail car it had been sitting on. Once the boom had completely cleared the holder it sat in while in transportation, I released the lever controlling the boom, and reached forward slightly and pulled on yet another one. With another loud hiss, and the creak of gears, the massive crane slowly rotated to the right. 

I watched as my director on the ground guided me as we got the boom into position, crossing his hooves over his head when it reached the point he wanted it at. I let go of the cab lever, and watched as he started to make a circle motion with his right hoof, telling me to let out the line on the main hook.

I grabbed the lever for the main hook, and pulled, slowly letting the main line spool out and lower the hook toward the ground. Once the hook had gotten close enough, two massive earth ponies grabbed onto it and started pulling it toward the rolled engine, as I continued to feed out line. 

They were doing this to make sure the line stayed taught, and didn’t get wrapped around the spool wrong or caught in its gears.

I continued to watch my director and the two earth ponies as the main line went further and further out toward the destroyed engine. When it had gotten to the point of nearly touching the boiler, my director held his hoof straight, signalling me to stop.

With the main line and hook right where they wanted it, the other ponies around the engine began to wrap cloth covered chains around the engine. These were what the main line hooked to, connecting it to the engine. The cloth was there to prevent the chains from digging into the engine as much as possible. 

Five minutes later, with the cloth chains wrapped around the rolled engine, ratcheted tight, and hooked to the main line’s twin hook, my director signaled me to start pulling the engine back up to the track.

This was the delicate part, as everything now relied on me. The director was now just there to make sure I didn’t crush anyone with the engine. But every decision that was made on how the engine was pulled up, was now up to me. 

I glanced over my shoulder at the boiler gauges, adjusted the injector, poured a little more coal in, and then set my sights on the task at hoof. I took a deep breath before grabbing the main line’s lever again, and slowly pushing it in the opposite direction. 

With a creak and groan from the cable and the engine below, the main line began to drag the destroyed metal shell up the embankment and toward the track. 

Now, even though the engine was nowhere near heavy enough to make out Bertha, 195 tons is still a lot of weight. But as I slowly rewound the main line back into Bertha, my years of training came flooding back, as I was able to react to every movement and sound the engine made. 

After about 10 minutes, I had the engine back up to the top of the embankment. While easing off on the lever for the main line, I pushed the lever for the boom down, raising it up and lifting the mangled engine into the air. With the confidence and precision that had been drilled into me all those years ago, I sat the engine down on the tracks perfectly on the first try. 

With the hardest obstacle on back on solid rails, the clean up could really get moving.

It took nearly two hours to pull all of the gondolas back onto the track. Thankfully, most of them were in decent shape, and were able to be set on the rails and pulled back to Vanhoover normally. The rest, and the train’s locomotive, were shuttled back on flat cars, as they either were missing wheels, incapable of rolling, or in the case of the engine, were twisted and could not sit on the track straight.

But finally, at around 4:45 in the evening, we rolled back into Vanhoover, with the line cleared once again and ready for traffic once more. 

I sat in Bertha, half asleep as the wreck recover train came to a stop in the same siding it had been in that morning. I had already dumped Bertha’s fire, so I just climbed out, and walked back to R2 where Smoke and Fire Box were laying the old engine down for a nap.

Smoke saw me walk up and smiled, “I could go for a cider after a day like that.”

I nodded and chuckled, “You and me both. First round is on me.”

That got Smoke’s attention, never being the one to turn down a free cider, and he jumped down out of R2 cab before calling back to Fire Box, “Come on kid! Drinks are on us!”

The colt smiled and climb out of the cab of R2 and joined us on the ground. We began to walk toward town, when we were stopped by Semaphore. 

“Hey guys, I know you're probably tired, but I really need you to do me a favor. That crew of that wrecked 4-8-2 was supposed to take a train up to the Crystal Empire. But since they're in the hospital, I need somepony to run it. I was wondering if you could take it and save me the hassle of doing a shit ton of paperwork to have a crew switch trains.”

I thought about this for a second. After the day I had just been through, I wanted nothing more than to go into town, have a cider, and get some sleep. But considering I was still technically scheduled to work shit shift, I felt it was my responsibility to take the train. 

“Alright Sem we’ll do it.”  

Semaphore visibly relaxed when I said that, “Oh thank Celestia. I really owe you for this one Stokes. The train’s on track 7, and thanks again.” With that, Sem turned and started his walk back to his office. 

I turned and looked at Smoke Box, “Well, I guess we’ll just have to change that cider to crystal water.” 

Smoke laughed, and then Fire Box spoke up, “Wait, so we’re going all the way to the Crystal Empire? After all the work that we did today?”

I nodded, “Sure are.”

The young colt groaned, “But I was hoping to get some sleep finally.”

“Well if I may quote an old song written by a railway pony, ‘there ain't no rest for the weary’.” I said with a chuckle as the colt groaned again. 

Then I saw Smoke Box crack a worrying grin, “Oh and guess what kid.” 

Fire Box looked over to Smoke before flinching at the glare on Smoke Box’s face, “What?”

“You're firing the whole way.”

I really wish I had a camera at that moment, because the look that crosses Fire Box’s face was worth every bit in the world.
> Chapter 4: Crystal Built Rail
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I yawned and stretched as I picked myself up off the bunk I had spent the night in.

The trip from Vanhoover up to the Crystal Empire had been mostly uneventful, the only problem being the couple of times Fire Box let the boiler pressure drop a little too much. But all in all, it had been a clean run, and we had rolled into the Empire’s main yard at about 1:30 in the morning.

I looked over to the other side of the room to see that the clock read just after 11:00 am. “Well, time to get outta bed.” I said to myself before rolling out of bed and going through my normal morning routine. When we had come in the night before, we had been told that dispatch would scheduled us for another run when something popped up, but not to expect anything before noon.

Even though it was still an hour before they had said a train would be ready for us, I didn't feel like sitting on my flank for that time. In no time at all, I was ready to go, and walked out of the bunk that I had been given for the night.

I walked across the hall and knocked and on the door to the bunk Smoke Box had spent the night in.

“Smoke, you awake in there?”

There was a few seconds of silence before a muffled reply snuck it’s way through the door, “Yep I'm movin. Go ahead and head over to dispatch, that's where I told Fire Box you'd be.”

I was surprised to hear that Fire Box was already awake, but it didn't phase me for long, “Alright, I'll head over there and meet up with him. Catch up with us down there when you're ready.”

“Can do boss” slipped through the door, before I turned and started to make my way toward dispatch.

I got down break room behind the dispatch office quick enough, and ran into Fire Box just after walking in

He looked up and smiled at me, “Oh hey Stokes, was wondering when you'd walk in.”

I smiled when I heard him refer to me by my nickname, the kid had come a long way from the day before when it came to shaking off all the mental gymnastics training Canterlot had tried to beat into him.

“Yeah, I woke up not too long ago, and felt that I should probably do some work today. Smoke Box said he should be down here in a few, so we're just gonna hang out and wait for him.” I said as I walked over and poured myself a cup of coffee.

I grimaced a bit when I saw that there was no sugar or creamer around, forcing me to drink it black. But with no other choice, I just shrugged it off and poured myself a cup. At one point I had hated and all but avoided drinking coffee black, but when it's all you've got in the morning for five years, it grows on you, enough so you could stomach it at least.

It was only a few minutes later that Smoke Box walked into dispatch. “Afternoon Stokes.” He said as he walked over and poured his own cup of coffee

“You ready to get rolling?” I asked as I finished up the last of my cup.

“Just a sec.” He said before he picked up his cup and slammed its contents down his throats in the matter of seconds. “Ahhhh, yup, now I'm good. Let's go grab us an iron horse.”

I just shook my head before motioning to Fire Box, who had been dozing off in a chair, and the three of us walked into the dispatch office proper.

The dispatch office was about the size of our main one back in Tall Tale, but there were more organization boards and other resources devoted to freight than passenger traffic, as freight was the more prevalent traffic out of the Crystal Empire.

What with all their mines and lumber yards and what not.

The dispatcher I had talked to the night before when we had come in had said that they would put our names on the roster, so the roster sheets were out first stop.

The roster sheets were just a massive series of boards with crew names on them, showing what type of train they had, and who to talk to for their orders. We found our names easy enough (last spot on the last board) and saw that we would be in charge of a coal train, and that we had to talk to a dispatcher named Streaking Crystal.

“Does every pony that lives in the Crystal Empire have the word crystal in their name?” Fire Box asked.

“From our experience, yes.” Smoke Box said as we turned and started our hunt for Streaking Crystal.

She wasn't that hard to find, sitting at one of the first few desks we walked by, busy going through orders for rostered and un-rostered trains.

“Excuse me ma’am, but the roster boards said to talk to you about our orders.” I said as we stopped next to her desk.

She looked up, and smiled after looking at me for a second, “ Ah, so you’re Fire Stoker. The fabled driver of Equestria’s Northern Hills. Heard plenty of tales about you up here.”

I was taken a back, “Yeah I'm Fire Stoker. That other part, I'm not entirely sure about. How do you know me?”

“Oh my cousin works down in Tall Tale, name’s Axle Load. He's told me a thing or two about you and Coal Dust.”

“You're cousins with Axle Load? Wow small world.” Smoke Box said as he walked up next to me on the left, while Fire Box took up a spot on my right.

“It is indeed. But anyways, you're not here for small talk, you're here for your orders.” Streaking Crystal said as she went back to the stacks of papers on her desk, and began to search again.

“Ah, here we are.” She said a few moments later as she pulled out a paper-clipped stack of papers. “Manifest, destination, locomotive, and additional crew. Everything you need.”

I took the order, and began to go through it, with Smoke Box looking over my shoulder. “Alright, seems straightforward. Though the number of the engine escapes me. I know most class number ranges for the railway, but #898 escapes me. Oh well, not important. Thanks a lot Streaking. I'll be sure to tell Axle Load I saw you when I get back to Tall Tale.”

Streaking Crystal smiled, “Thanks. Nice to meet you Fire Stoker, I hope to see you again.”

I just smiled as we turned away, “I'm sure you will.” I said as we began walking towards the door.

Once we got out of earshot of the mare, Smoke and I looked at each other, “This is gonna be a long one” we said in perfect sync. We laughed quick before sighing.

At that comment, Fire Box looked at us, “What's up? Why is this gonna be a long day?”

I didn't say anything, just pointed to a spot on the order, ‘Destination: Canterlot.’

The look that came over his face was one of near terror. “Oh no! Not that place. I thought I would finally be done with that wretched city.”

“That's not the worst of it kid. Canterlot is a nearly two day run from Tall Tale, and we have to go through Tall Tale to get to Canterlot from here. It's probably gonna be a good three days to make the entire run, and we're rostered for the entire trip.”

That made Fire Box look like he was ready to quit. “Well, this is gonna be great.”

“Yep.” Was all that came from Smoke Box, before he turned back to me. “But did you notice something strange about the manifest list?”

“Yeah I did. We don't normally get manifests in number of cars, but 528 coal cars seems a little high for one locomotive.”

“Well I'm sure they know what they're doing.” Was all Smoke Box said. I nodded in agreement as the three of us made our way out the door and into the main yard.

The air was cold, and the snow on the ground crunched underneath us. The one thing that I don't think I’ll ever get used to about the Crystal Empire is that it's always winter outside the dome around the main city.

“So where is our engine?” Fire Box asked as we walked up to the tracks.

“Orders said they'd be pulling it up on outbound 2. We kinda picked up our orders early, and the train is coming in from one of the mines up North.” Smoke Box replied as we approached the twin gauge main line that lead out of the yard.

“Ok I gotta ask, what's with the third rail on some of these tracks?” Fire Box asked as we stood next to the southbound line.

I was all too happy to explain, “Well, not all the locomotives in the Crystal Empire run on standard gauge tracks. They have a few engines built specifically for running on a 6 foot wide gauge of track.”

It looked like Fire Box was about to ask another question when the ground under our hooves began to rumble. As we stood there in shock, we listened as what sorta sounded like many miniature explosions went off in the distance, and slowly began to grow closer.

As the explosive noise grew louder and louder, the ground shook more and more.

“What the hell is going on?!” Fire Box yelled in a panic over the deafening noise.

I looked up the tracks in the direction of the oppressive sound, only to see something coming over the horizon I thought I'd never see.

“No way, is that what I think it is?” Smoke Box asked in astonishment as he too caught sight of the massive object moving towards us.

“No doubt.” Was all I could bring myself to say as I continued to stare in awe at the machine that was lumbering its way toward us.

What we were lying witness to was one of the most impressive, and massive feats of locomotive engineering that had ever been completed.

The Crystal Empire Mammoth class heavy drag freight locomotive.

The eleven member Mammoth class still held the Equis wide record as the largest set of locomotives ever built in any way, shape, or form. The locomotives were gargantuan, having a 4-10-10-10-8 wheel arrangement, being the only set of locomotives to have three drive sets underneath their boilers.

The locomotives had been built when the Crystal Empire realized that it was quickly turning into a hotbed of bulk freight. From coal and ore to miles of logs, most of Equestria’s raw materials now came from the Crystal Empire.

Originally the only way to get these materials from to Empire into the big cities was through Vanhoover, and by extension us. This was because the original track that ran up to the frozen north originated in Vanhoover.

Yet even before the mines and logging camps were running at full force, it was obvious that the original line couldn’t handle the amount of traffic being sent across it. From bridges that were constantly being closed for inspection and repair, to tracks that were literally sinking into the ground from abused ties giving out, the line just could not cope.

So the decision was made rather quickly to have a newer, more modern main line constructed between the main terminal outside the Crystal Empire and the terminal in Canterlot. This was mainly to be used for freight traffic, with an express passenger train destined for and departing from the heart of the Empire twice a day. It was during the planning of this new line that the Empire was approached by a legend among rail ponies.

His name was Steam Punk, a locomotive designer well known for his massively powerful freight haulers. He single hoofedly designed such engines as the 2-6-6-6 Alleghenys, 2-8-8-4 Yellowstones, 2-8-8-2 Y6a’s and Y6b’s, and the 4-12-2 9000 class, as well as various others that had been implemented on one railway or another.

Heck, it was him and his team who designed the HG-10.

He approached the empire with his craziest idea yet. It defied most logic, but still ended up being considered one of his greatest. His plan was to build a twin gauge main line all the way to Canterlot, with the two gauges being the standard Equestrian gauge, and a six foot broad gauge.

At first, ponies thought he had gone mad. Why make a railway have to run two completely different sets of rolling stock? They couldn’t understand it, until he explained the method to his madness. It was mostly based around the construction of one class of engine. An engine class of such magnitude and power that they could haul half a dozen miles worth of fully loaded coal cars out of the mines and then go all the way to Canterlot single headed.

After some compromises and alterations were made to the engine’s design, the end result was the Mammoth class steam locomotive. Once the prototype was built and its capabilities were displayed, the Crystal Empire was completely on board with the plan, and the rest was history.

The Mammoth class locomotive measured a total of 244ft long from the tip of the front running boards to the end of the locomotive’s water tender. Just like the HG-10, TT-8, and many of Steam Punk’s later designs, the engine permanently had two tenders, which gave it the range to run from even the deepest mines to Canterlot, only having to stop and refuel three times.

Those refuels may take nearly three hours, but that’s almost to be expected considering the size of the tenders. The two tenders measured 57 feet long, nearly 16 feet wide, and just over 18 feet tall. This gave the two a maximum capacity of 118,000 gallons of water, and 410 tons of coal respectfully.

The cylinders that powered the beast were the largest ever made for any engine class ever, 48 inches by 39 inches each. And if that wasn’t crazy enough, there were nine of them.

Powering these cylinders was a giant 108 foot long boiler running at a working pressure of 500 psi, only achievable by using building techniques invented solely for the construction of the Mammoth class. The boiler was specially built out of a rare heavy duty metal found only in the mines of the Empire. The rarity of this metal was the reason why only eleven members of the class had been built. Along with this, just to feed the enormous boiler, a unique, and frankly crazy system of two twenty foot long and eight foot wide self contained fireboxes was created requiring that the engine was run by two fire ponies running two completely separate water and coal feeds.

All of this heavy weight situated at the rear of the locomotive meant that a trailing truck of eight, 44 inch in diameter wheels was needed to hold up the 16 foot wide by 7 foot long cab and fire boxes. On top of all of this, to allow the locomotives to actually navigate curves with its massive boiler, the boiler was built in two pieces, connected by a one of a kind three foot long hinge. How they got that to work still escapes me to this day.

In the end, all of this was used to turn the sets of thirty, 67 inch diameter drive wheels, which lead to the locomotive having a final, mind melting tractive effort rating of just over 2.6 million newtons. These eleven locomotives were the most impressive feat of engineering ever accomplished by pony kind full stop. And now, I was being put in the engineer’s seat of one.

The monstrous piece of rolling metal came to a stop in front of us with a mighty hiss of steam and air, and creak of metal. The three of us could only stand there in the slush next to outbound 1, staring. I had been told many a story of these engines and their impressive shows of strength, but I had never actually seen one up close.

But now, I was not only seeing one, I was getting to actually drive one. Inside the mush that was now my brain, that little colt that we all have was going absolutely nuts. We only began to walk over when we started to see the engine’s original crew stepping down from cab.

I walked up to the one dressed in an engineer’s uniform, the middle aged unicorn smiled when he cause sight of me, “Ah, the one and only Fire Stoker, nice to get the chance to meet you, name’s Dusted Quartz” the other stallion said, outstretching his hoof. I shook it, but couldn’t help but ask, “I’m a one and only now? I don’t think I’m that famous yet.” Dusted Quartz laughed, “Oh don’t down sell yourself Fire Stoker, many ponies have heard about the feats you’ve pulled off on in the hills of the South Smokey’s. Taking a six mile train through those hills as a double header, after only being an engineer for a year, that takes guts and skills. Plus putting up with all that stupid stuff that those nobles have been throwing at you lately, you and those other ponies down in the Smokey’s have a lot of fellow railpoines watching your back.”

He then turned to #898, “Take care of the old girl for us, and don’t stress to much about driving her. She’s basically just a big HG-10, with a much longer stopping distance. Just keep an eye on your speed and the side-rail boards, and you’ll do fine.” With that, Dusted Quartz and his two fire ponies began to walk away. Just as they were about to enter the dispatch building, Dusted turned back towards us, “Have a good run fellas!” He yelled over, before quickly making his way out of the worsening cold.

I turned to the two ponies next to me with a smile on my face, “Gentlecolts, I believe that we have an engine to run.”

With that said, the three of us ran towards the massive engine like we were young colts running to the tree on Hearts Warming. One long climb later, we were in the cab of the beast, looking over the odd set up of three control stations. Smoke Box, having fired an HG-10 before, immediately recognized the control set up, “Hey he was right, it’s just an HG-10. This should be fun.”

Fire Box on the other hoof, looked overwhelmed, “Are you sure this is a good idea? Up until yesterday, I hadn’t fired anything larger than a yard shunter.” Smoke Box turned to him with a smile, “Don’t worry kid, HG-10’s aren’t the hardest thing to fire. I’ll run you through everything quick.” As the two fire ponies took their seats, Smoke Box on the far left and Fire Box in the middle, I took my seat on the right in the engineer’s seat. About then, the CB radio that I had just noticed cracked to life, “Head end, this is Shattered Crystal in the caboose, ready to move out when you are. How copy?”

I picked up the CB’s radio, “Caboose this is head end, we copy you loud and clear. We’ll be ready to roll in just a minute here. We’ll radio you when we’re about to set off.” “Roger that head end, waiting on your call” Shattered Crystal’s voice replied.

We sat up in the cab of #898 for a couple minutes, going over all the controls as we readied ourselves. Soon enough, Smoke gave me the nod that signaled that they were ready to go. I acknowledge him with a nod of my own, before picking up the CB again, “Caboose this is head end, we are ready to roll, call in with confirmation that the whole train is moving.” There was a few seconds before, “Roger that head end, will radio you when train is in full motion.”

With that, I nodded again as I reached up for the locomotive’s whistle, giving out two long blasts to signal that we were heading out. With the loud blast of the locomotive’s deep whistle set out across the barren landscape of the frozen north, I reached for the regulator. With one last deep calming breath, I cracked the regulator open ever so slightly. The locomotive jerked as its massive wheels began to turn, the even bigger cylinders filling with steam. Not long after, the deep loud roar of the engine’s bark began to fill the air.

Now, I had said on many occasions that the best sound in the world is an HG-10 at full steam pounding through the hills of the Smokey's. But, the sound that came blasting out of the #898’s twin stacks as it slowly pulled its long train into motion and barely breaking a sweat while at it, came very close to topping that.

I barely had to move the throttle as I pulled the slack out of the train, the engine just not seeming to care about the immense weight behind it. A few minutes after we started, the CB crackled to life, “Head end, whole train is rolling.” I reached for the mic, “Roger that caboose, going us to yard speed.” I lifted the regulator again slightly, and soon enough, we were going ten miles an hour, making our way towards the main line proper.

Again, I grabbed the CB’s mic, “Caboose, we have reached yard limit, confirm when whole train has left the yard.” “Roger that head end.” I sat back and looked over to my two fire ponies, “You ready for this guys?” Smoke Box cracked a smile, “More than ready. Let’s do this.” Fire Box just gave a quick. With that, I just sat back and waited for Shattered Crystal. Not long after, I got what I was waiting for, “Head end, whole train is out of the yard, clear to accelerate to main line speed.” “Roger that.” Again I reached for the regulator and notched back the reverser.

It didn’t take to long for me to bring the engine up the the line’s speed of 35 mph. The line was built for fast freight and express passenger trains, but due to how heavy the linkage and other components of the mammoth class were, it was limited to 35 on all its runs to preserve the tracks. Which is completely understandable, given the fact that the linkage itself was 7 inches wide on either side, 3.5 per connecting rod, and the rest of the locomotive weighed something like 2,000,000 pounds.

I didn’t mind however, it just meant that I had more time to enjoy driving this engineering marvel. As we past by the track that lead into the empire itself for passenger services, I couldn’t help but grab the whistle and let out another long blast, sending out the engine’s impressive sound across the frozen lands once more.

As we continued on, we watched the landscape slowly begin to change, getting less and less snow covered as we traveled. We passed by one of the passenger services heading to the Crystal Empire not long after, whistles were traded as we passed. I couldn't help but smile, this run was getting better and better with every passing minutes, and I still had hours to go with the beautiful machine I was driving.

Six hours later, we were still traveling along perfectly as we had been for hours. #898 was an absolute dream to drive, as she pounded down the rails without a care in the world about the weight following behind her. We were just about three hours away from our first refueling stop.

This was about two fifths of the way to Canterlot, as the run between the Crystal Empire and Canterlot was much shorter than the one I thought I was going to have to take down through Tall Tale, cutting the trip time from 64 hours down to just around 22 hours, not including the time it took to refuel.

Thankfully for us, the mine that #898 had been coming from wasn’t that deep into the mountain ranges that the mines were found in. This meant that we had enough coal and water on board to cut the number of refuel stops down from three to two. In total, the entire run was going to take around 30 hours, under half of what the old route used to take. Of course that meant that we would be running the train for over a day, we had two three hour windows to grab a nap in if we decided to do so. I had worked with much less before, so I knew at least I'd be fine.

I looked over to the two boxes that occupied the cab with me with a smile, “How you two holding up?” I shouted over the engine’s impressive sound. “Hanging in there. I think the colt here is getting the hang of this” Smoke box hollered back. I directed my gaze to Fire Box, “Oh are you now?”

The young colt smiled, “Yeah, it’s not as bad as I had thought it was going to be. Still a bit overwhelming but I can manage. Kinda helps that I only have to turn levers and dials to fuel the fire box” I smiled, “Good to hear kid, just keep everything in check and we’ll have smooth sailing all the way to Canterlot.”

At just after 9:30 in the evening, we pulled into the Lower Crystal Rail Yard, the furthest south railyard that the Crystal Empire personally owned, and it was the location of our first fuel stop. With the skill that came from years of driving trains, even though I had never driven a Mammoth class engine, I pulled in and stopped the coal tender perfectly under the coal hopper shoot.

With everything set, the three of us sat back as we waited for the tender to fill up. A long hour later, the coal tender was filled to the brim, and I pulled us forward to start the even longer two hour process of filling up the water tender. “Uh, I do not want to sit here for another two hours and do nothing.”Fire box groaned as he adjusted himself in his seat. 

Smoke Box stretched and yawned as he got up from his seat, “Well I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna get a power nap in. Let me know when we’re heading out.” With that said, he sat down at the back of the cab leaning up against the tender, and within seconds, he was out cold.

Fire Box stared at the snoozing body of Smoke Box in disbelief, “How the hell did he just fall asleep like that.” I laughed from me spot in the engineer’s chair, “That is an important skill that you’ll hopefully pick up one day being a hoof plate worker. Being able to fall asleep anywhere at anytime. Trust me, it comes in handy.”

“Speaking of important skills, I have to ask, how are you so good at handling this massive thing? You said this was the first time you’ve ever driven one.” I chuckled, “That may be, but the ponies who build this engine built it off the basis of the HG10. As we said when we first laid eyes on the cab layout, it’s just an HG10 made bigger. That serves me well because the beginning of my engineer career was spent behind the controls of an HG10, #9366 to be exact. So I honed my skills at the controls of this engine’s little sister, and it turns out those skills transfer over quite well, especially those that come with taking six mile trains.”

Fire Box stared at me when I said that, “You mean to tell me that you actually have experience pulling trains of this size?” The smile on my face grew, “That I do, well if taking one train one time counts as experience, but it’s a hell of a story.” Fire Box was all too happy to sit and listen as I told him the story of climbing over the hills of Vanhoover with #9366 and #9329. By the time I was finishing up the tale, I was informed that the water tender was finished being filled, and we were good to go.

I nodded to the yard pony who had told me, before I turned back to Fire Box, “Hey kid, pass me that piece of coal by your hoof.” I said, pointing to a chunk of coal that had bounced out of the coal tender when it was being filled. Fire Box nodded, confused, and paced me the coal chunk. I was then all too happy to turn and toss it at Smoke Box, who woke with a jolt as the lump of coal bumped him on the top of the head. “Wake up sleeping beauty, it’s time to go.”

Smoke Box, unlike Coal Dust who would have gotten up and cussed me out before taking his seat, simply laughed and tossed the piece of coal back at me before he sat down in the far fire-pony seat. With a few quick blasts of the whistle and a notch of the regulator, we were rolling once more and on our way towards Canterlot.

We continued on into the coming night, and the next day. The next fuel up went just as smooth as the first, and in record time we were back on the rails to finish the last of our run, after being woken up from our nap.

The rest of the run was just as uneventful, but the long run was finally starting to take its toll on us. So it was with great relief to our sleep needy bodies that just before 8 in the evening the night after the run started, we pulled the ever expansive train into the main freight processing yard at the bottom of Canterlot Mountain.

As I brought #898 to a stop of receiving track 3, I was almost sad that my time with the Mammoth locomotive had come to an end. After everything was sorted out, we took the engine over to the roundhouse, parking her for the night next to two of her sisters. One of which was being steamed up for the return journey back to the Crystal Empire with a set of empty hoppers, while the other was having its smoke box cleaned out and boiler serviced.

Once the fire of #898 had been dumped and we had handed her over to the roundhouse crew to fully put her to sleep, the three of us made our way over to the employee housing to do the same for ourselves. With barely a word said to each other as we made our way to our rooms, and a rather weak goodnight was said, we opened the doors, and proceeded to fall asleep the second the doors swung close behind us.

The next day when we got in to receive our orders, we found that we hadn't been set up with a load heading back to Tall Tale, instead being given a load of empty log flats heading to Dodge Junction. “Looks like we don't get to go home just yet.” I said to Smoke Box as I read over the orders sheet. He just smiled, “Fine by me, I don't get to head out over the rest of the network that much. This should be fun.”

So, for the next few days, we were bounced around the western end of the network as we slowly made our way back up to Tall Tale. This included making stops first in Dodge Junction and then Hoofington, before finally ending up in Tall Tale’s yard once more, five days later.

Once I had put my engine for the day to bed, an aging 4-6-2 that I was pretty sure had a collapsing fire box arch, I made a beeline for Coal Dust’s bunk. It only took me about half an hour to get to his bunk house, and soon enough I was knocking on his door. “Hey Dusty! You in there!” I called as knocked on the door.

I stood there for a moment, and just as I was about to walk away, the door swung open, exposing the dark blue and grey earth pony that I knew all too well. The second his eyes caught sight of me, he broke into a smile, “Stokes! Good to see you again. Was starting to wonder if Canterlot had decided to keep you. Or forced you to stay.”

I laughed as I walked into the bunk, “You’re funny Coal. It would take a lot to keep me from coming back to Tall Tale. But enough about that, how are you holding up? Not too battered?”

Coal Dust waved his hoof with a smile, “Nah, I’m holding up pretty good. They let me out of the hospital three days ago. Thankfully I only had a mild concussion and only needed to get nine stitches.” He said as he lifted up his mane, exposing the line of stitches that sat at the top of his forehead. “Yeesh, that looks rough.” I said as I looked over the closed up wound.

Coal Dust laughed, “It looks worse than it actually is. In fact, the railway even let me come back to work yesterday.” “Well that’s good, the last thing we need is for you to spend too much time laying around on your flank.” Coal Dust rolled his eyes at me, “Oh ha ha, very funny Stokes. But seriously, I talked with Files when I clocked out today, and he said that the two of us will be taking a train over The Grade tomorrow. Back to the old grind eh.”

I smiled as I got up to leave, but first walked over to Dusty with an outstretched hoof, “Wouldn’t have it any other way Dusty.” The recovering earth pony smiled before bumping my hoof, "You know it." He said before waving as I made my way out of the bunk, “See you tomorrow Stokes.” “Later Dusty.” I said with a wave of my own as I walked out of the bunk and closed the door behind me.

It didn’t take me too long to get back over to my bunk, and I didn’t stay up too much longer before calling it quits for the night and hitting the hay. The next morning I woke up at 5:00 a.m. again, slowly falling back into my normal routine as I got up and made my way over to Reefer’s coffee house. I walked in, smiling as I looked around the already bustling caffeine palace, and called to the old stallion behind the counter, “Hey Wood Reefer!”

Wood Reefer turned to me and smiled, “Ah Fire Stoker, good to see you again. It’s been a bit hasn’t it?” I laughed as I walked up to the counter, “Yeah, I kinda got thrown around for a little bit after that whole fiasco on The Grade.” Wood Reefer laughed, “So I guessed. I know how it goes all too well. Now let me guess, a cup of the usual?” “You know me too well Reefer.” "I would hope so. you've been ordering the same thing ever morning for the last seven years."

The old stallion laughed as he went about making my coffee. Just as I was turning to go have a seat, I heard the doors burst open. I turned to find a frantic looking Coal Dust, “Stokes, thank Celestia I found you!” He yelled as he ran over to me. “Whoa, easy there Dusty, what’s the problem?”

With that Coal Dust produced a copy of The Canterlot Observer that had been tucked under his foreleg, and pointed to the front page. I looked at the title and felt my eyes pop at what I read, Railway Engineer Destroys Locomotive and Nearly Takes Life of Coworker Due to Incompetence. Fire Stoker, and engineer in the Smokey Mountain district of the Canterlot Pacific Railroad, endangered the life of a fellow employee when his improper handling of and engine lead to said engine’s destruction. Underneath that was a picture of #3800 in her damaged state sitting outside the Tall Tale locomotive shop.

It took me a while of staring to actually register what I was looking at, but once I did, I couldn’t help but mutter one word. “Shit.”
> Chapter 5: Free Fall
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

All the ponies that were in Wood Reefer’s shop quickly crowded around Me and Coal Dust as they all read through the slanderous article. “I can’t believe all of this! They’re trying to pin the whole thing on me!” I yelled as we got to the end of the article, the other rail ponies around him mumbling in agreement. 

Coal Dust looked over at me with concern, “What are we gonna do Stokes? They're trying to turn the nation against us!” I slammed the paper down, “We’re gonna go do our jobs is what we’re gonna do. These slanderous dirt balls are trying to get under our skins. They’re trying to throw dirt in our eyes so we can’t see what they’re cooking up. So we’re not going to give them the satisfaction. We’re gonna go walking into dispatch with our heads held high and do our job like it was any other day, mudslinging or no!” 

The other ponies around us cheered at my declaration, and Dusty cracked a smile, “I like the way you think Stokes.” “Well if you’re gonna do your job, you’re gonna need to stay awake. Don’t worry, I cooled them off a bit for ya.” Wood Reefer said as he hoofed over two cups to myself and Coal. 

The two of us quickly slammed down our coffees before making our way out of the cafe and confidently marched down to dispatch. We walked in, only to be immediately confronted by an angry Files, “Stokes, you seen this bull that’s in today’s paper?” 

I nodded, “Yes I read all of it earlier over at Reefer’s. But I don’t care what some nancy pantcy reporter over in Canterlot thinks about what happened that day. I know the truth, and so does the rest of the railway, and that’s all that matters in the end. Now, what’s the orders for the day?” 

Files smiled, “I should have known better than to worry about the two of you. Today’s gonna be an average day for you two. Just a short train of empties over to Vanhoover, and then a return train to Hoofington, before coming back with some fresh rolling stock to replace those old wooden boxcars we’ve been dealing with for years.” “The ones that are rotting out?” “Those are the ones.” Coal Dust and I laughed, “About time those things got replaced. Better get going am I right?” “Makes sense to me, here’s the paperwork for all of your runs today Stokes. Have a good one.” Files passed me the clipboard he had carried over before walking around us, destined for home. 

I shook me head with a smile, hoping that one day he’d get taken off the graveyard shift. I looked over the orders to find that our engine was one of the older original 2-6-0 moguls, locomotive #97. “Got one of the old Moggies again, #97 this time.” 

Coal Dust laughed, “I’m surprised they’re keeping that old engine in service still. She either needs to be overhauled or retired.” I laughed to as we started walking over to shed 1-17, “Yeah, but she still gets her work done without much fuss, so I’ll drive her any day of the week.” “Fair enough.” 

We found #97 sitting in her berth, fire built and lit, and she was building steam. “How’s she steaming today colt?” The young fire lighter looked out the cab at us, “Building pressure nice and even, just as she always does. Can always count on this old girl to start up without a complaint.” Dusty and I nodded in agreement as we took over the cab from the colt, allowing him to go off and get the next locomotive up and going. 

It didn't take long for #97 to build up working pressure, being a small engine and having been tended to by the fire lighter. Once the boiler had been brought up to pressure, I slowly opened the regulator and once again pulled the old engine out of the roundhouse. 

It was a short trip across the yard to where our train was waiting, and with the sun coming up with barely a cloud in the sky, it looked to shaping up to be a good day in the Smokey Mountains. #97 shook only slightly as I locked the couplers together, “Alright, you gonna tie the air hoses together or am I?” 

Coal rolled his eyes, “I’ll get it, it’s gonna be a long day hoof firing this thing, so I might as well stretch out now.” he said as he climbed down out of the cab. It wasn’t long before he climbed back in, and we were ready to roll out. “Alright, road is ours, couplers are locked, hoses are tied, and pressure is good, you ready to roll Dusty?” 

Dusty leaned on his shovel with a smile, “More than ready, it’s gonna feel good to be back at it.” I couldn’t help but smile, “I couldn’t agree more.” With that, I pulled open the regulator and brought the train into motion. 

An hour later we were two thirds of the way up the Tall Tale side of The Grade, and were running strong. Coal Dust had been more than able to keep up with #97’s appetite, as she was only a small engine. 

We were just coming around one of the many curves in the line when the second to last signal before the summit came into view, only to find that it was shining yellow. “Slow signal coming up Stokes.” Coal Dust said, being the first one to catch sight of the signal as I was busy checking the brake gauges. 

I picked my head up and caught sight of the signal immediately, “Oh, train’s on the summit? Damn, I was hoping to fly right through. Oh well, bringing her down to 25.” I closed the regulator and let the engine coast, slowly letting the gradient slow us down from 40 mph to 25, preparing myself to see a red signal adorning the final signal before the single track junction. 

I stopped us right outside Hazzard’s signal box, who waved to us through the window. His day had just started, having taken over from the night shift signalpony only an hour or so earlier. It was about a fifteen minute wait before the train that was occupying the single track came into view. 

It was barely doing 30 mph, and as it passed by I noticed that it was one of Crystal Northern’s new 2-10-4’s pulling a long string of hoppers loaded down with hundreds of tons of coal. While the Mammoth class handled the majority of the bulk freight runs to Canterlot, some were still sent through us, plus the Crystal Empire shipped raw materials to more places than just the capital. Seeing the Crystal Northern engine outside Vanhoover wasn't too much of a surprise, as sometimes a locomotive couldn't be freed up to take the train over The Grade, so the CN engines would just be waved through to Tall Tale.

“That's not a normal slow goods.” I commented to Coal Dust over the sounds of the passing freight. 

Coal Dust then seemed to have a moment of realization, “Oh yeah that's right. They've had a slow order over the bridge for the last few days. They're fixing that problem with the sunken rails. It should have said so in our orders.” I pulled up the clipboard that had our orders on it and flipped through the pages, “Eh, nope. Nothing about the slow order.” “Huh, they must be finishing up today.” Coal muttered as the caboose passed by us. While that seemed kinda weird to me, I just chocked it up to a communication error back at dispatch, that did happen once and awhile. 

Seconds later we heard the switch clang and the signal dropped. “Well at least that's one less thing to worry about.” I said as I opened the regulator again and started us moving. The slow order had us restricted to 15 mph once we had gotten onto the single track, but that didn't bother us too much. 

As we approached the Dragon Tooth River bridge, we saw the work ponies scramble off it. Most of the work they did occurred during the night , but to stay on schedule, they had to as much work as they could between the daytime traffic. The bridge creaked under us as we crossed, but she held our weight just fine, and soon enough we were coasting down the Vanhoover side of The Grade.

We rolled into Vanhoover without a problem, and left our train on the incoming line before heading off into the yard to collect our returning freight. It was a train made up of mostly the old wooden boxcars that were soon to be replaced, but mixed in were sets of long metal gondolas loaded down with scrap metal. 

Before we left to hit the line again, I stopped in Semaphore's office. “Hey Sem.” I said as I walked in. Semaphore looked up from his paperwork and smiled my way, “Ah Stokes! Good to finally see you again! Word along the rails is you had the honors of driving a Mammoth the other day. That true?” 

I couldn't help but smile, even for the engineers who got the privilege of driving the HG-10’s and TT-8’s, driving a Mammoth class would have been a dream come true. “That I did. Me, Smoke Box, and that new colt Fire Box drove #898 from the Empire all the way to Canterlot. That's a run I'll never forget.” 

Semaphore let out a soft chuckle, “I'm sure you won't. Just don't tell too many of the others, they might get jealous.” I had to laugh at that, “They've been jealous of me since the day I was born, so what would be different.” That got a laugh out of the both of us. 

As I turned to leave though, Sem spoke up again, “Oh, and by the way, word just came in. Slow order on the summit got lifted, back to normal running.” I smiled, that was just the kind of news I wanted to hear, “Perfect. Alright Sem, I'll let you get back to work. Have a good one!” “You too Stokes!” Semaphore yelled back as I walked out. 

I walked back over to where #97 was sitting, and climbed back into the cab, “Summit slow order got lifted Dusty.” I said as I retook my seat. “Sweet! Quick run to Hoofington!” Coal Dust cheered. I couldn't help but laugh as I released the brakes and cracked open the regulator. 

It was an uneventful run up the Vanhoover hills, and we were soon hitting the single track. Sure enough, the slow order boards were gone, leaving the summit open to speed. I grinned as I pulled the regulator wide open, we had lost a lot of speed on the climb up Nightmare thanks to the weight of the gondolas, and I wanted to make up the time we had lost as a result. 

By the time Dragon Tooth came into view, we were cutting up the rails at a cool 60mph, and I was still pushing for a little more. But, as the bridge grew closer, I noticed a sign sitting right next to the tracks, but the writing was too small for me to read. 

It wasn't until we were right on top of it was I able to make out what it said, and the words sent a chill up my spine. It was the slow order, sitting right at the entrance to the bridge. My eyes quickly shot along the tracks of the bridge, until I saw a sight that would end up giving me nightmares for years to come. 

The right rail was sunk into the ties of the bridge, almost like the work that had been done on it had never even happened. I panicked, slamming the regulator shut and put the brakes on as hard as I could. I knew I had no chance of stopping in time, but I had to try. 

Sure enough, I was right. 

#97 hit the bad section of track, and violently tipped to the right, throwing Coal Dust into me. We heard the right connecting rod smack the ties four times before the old abused bolts sheared off and the rods were ripped right out of the back of the piston. #97 continues to tip as we heard ties start to snap, I knew what we had to do. “Coal, bail!” I called. 

Coal Dust nodded, and without a second thought we jumped out of the cab. And over the side of the bridge. It had been a long time since I had last jumped from the Dragon Tooth bridge with my high school friends, and I had almost forgotten the almost alien feeling that came from falling through the air. 

The ground quickly grew closer, and I was to preoccupied with making sure I landed correctly that I didn't even hear #97 tip over the side of the bridge and fall right behind us, taking a section of ties with it. Just before I hit the water, I took as big of a breath as I could, and the next thing I knew I was surrounded by the cool rushing water. 

I recovered quick as I always did, but before I could start swimming to the surface, I was pushed downstream by the force of #97 hitting the water right behind me and her boiler blowing out as the metal twisted from the cold water. Again, I recovered quick and swam for the surface, popping up just as the air in my lungs gave out. 

I gasped for fresh air as I bobbed up and down in the water; hearing the same not to far away from me, signaling that Coal was also alright. “Coal, you good?” I asked as I finally got my breath back. “Yup.” Was all I got in reply. I turned up to look at the bridge, and was shocked to see a massive gap in the ties that had been made by #97. 

The worrying thing was the fact that the rails themselves had held, which meant the safety system that switched the signals to red if a rail gave out wouldn't have tripped. I quickly started swimming for shore, “Come on Coal! We gotta warn Hazzard about the bridge before he slings another train over the summit!” Coal Dust, having finally recovered, nodded and swam after me. 

What we didn't know was that the entire train had not followed #97 over the side of the bridge. To this day we still don't know how, but by sheer luck, or more precisely bad luck, only the first five box cars had actually plunged over the side with us. This left almost a mile worth of train, headed by a string of seven of the heavy gondolas, hurtling down the main without an engine. 

What's worse, was we hadn't taken on a caboose in Vanhoover, as it was deemed that we didn't need one. How they had enough speed after the heavy braking and the jolt from the engine going over the bridge to cover the last seven miles to the Tall Tale grade is another unknown to us, but they did. 

Hazzard was busy filling out his time tables in his signal box when he heard the sound of freight cars passing, which he found odd as he hadn't heard an engine. He looked out the windows of his box, to find our engineless train gliding past at around 10 mph. Before he could react though, they had already passed and were picking up speed as they started the downgrade. 

Hazard jumped to set all the signals in his block to red, but hesitated. He knew that the afternoon return express was still inside his block, and if he set a signal ahead of it to red, that my train could catch up to it and slam right into the back. It could end up as a massive loss of life. 

Against his gut feeling, Hazard only set the last two signals in his block to red, and the third to yellow, before jumping over to the telegram machine at the back of the signal box and typing out a message. *Code red, Stop. Engineless train loose on the Tall Tale Grade, Stop. Keep all traffic off the summit, Stop.* Having done everything in his power, Hazard sat back to do the only two things had could, wait and pray. 

Just over 20 minutes later, Me and Coal Dust came bursting into Hazard's box out of breath. Somehow we had been able to cover the seven miles from the Dragon Tooth Bridge to his signal box in under half and hour. He turned to us with a look of shock, before asking, “Stokes, Dusty, what the hell is going on? Why did your train go past my box without an engine?” “What!” Coal and I both yelled in shock. It was the first we had heard of the runaway. 

“Your train went past my box almost half and hour ago at like 10 mph and you weren't attached. What’s going on?” “The bridge gave out under #97. She toppled over the side and we had to jump. How didn't the whole train follow her over?” I said in shock. Hazard shook his head, unable to answer but glad he had ordered a halt of all traffic going over the summit, “I really don't know, but somehow it did. And now it's loose on the main and following behind the afternoon return express.” 

Almost all the color drained from mine and Coal Dust’s faces when we heard that. But before we could say anything, a distant boom rattled it’s way through the mountains. “The hell was that?” Coal Dust asked, almost afraid of an answer. 

Hazard went to respond, but was interrupted by the sound of something clanking behind him. “Well whatever it was, it broke a rail down mountain, my signals just switched to red. Wait a second, north and south bound tracks are red!” That scared us all, if the safety system had been tripped on both the northbound and southbound tracks, that meant we had a major disaster on our hooves. 

“Come on, we gotta go find out what's wrong!” Hazard called as he ran outside. With no time given to question, Dusty and I quickly followed. Me and Hazard jumped in the front of Hazard's speeder, while Coal Dust gave us a push to get us rolling before Hazard started up the engine. 

We tore down the tracks as fast as the speeder would go, Hazard counting the signals as he went. He knew his block better than anypony, it was kinda his job, and he knew exactly where the safety system had been tripped. 

Now, something you ponies need to understand is that up in the Smokey’s, we run a backwards north south system. What I mean by that is that on most railways, the right most track is the northbound track, with the left most bringing south bound. It's the same with east and west, with right being west and left being east. But on the mountain, we run the Northbound track on the left, and southbound on the right. We do this to give the engineer, who almost always sits on the right, the best visibility possible while hugging the mountain side. Now I can hear some of you asking, 'If your northbound track is the left track, how did Ash Pan pull up on your left during the 3800 incident?’ Well, on that day, once we had passed the last southbound train, we got switched onto the southbound track to use the mountainside to keep us out of the rain as much as possible. Whole lotta good that did us. 

But anyways, we got to the last signal before the safety trip, and Hazard put on the brakes, bringing us down to a crawl. We krept down the line, until we got to a sharp blind corner, “Look!” Coal pointed out. We had found the safety trip. The outside rail of the southbound track had been pushed out of place and fallen over. But that was nothing compared to what the Northbound track looked like. The inside rail looked much like the outside southbound, but the outside had been completely snapped, with both sides hanging over the side of the mountain. 

I was off the speeder before Hazard even brought it to a stop, and ran to the edge of the mountain. When I looked down the mountain, I was greeted by a horror show. Sitting 300 feet down the mountain on a flat outcropping, was a miniature mountain of twisted steel and splintered wood. 

I looked on in horrored awe, there just seemed to be too much wood to have come from my train alone, and I was right. “Guys, I think there's an engine down there!” I called to Hazard and Coal Dust, having caught sight of what looked like a cab roof mixed in the the mountain of wreckage. 

I didn't give them time to respond as I took off down the mountain, stumbling in the loose dirt of the steep downhill. I made it down to the bottom first, obviously, and quickly started to search for the engine I swore I saw. I found it soon enough, and had to stop in shock when I saw it. 

The engine was the Crystal Northern 2-10-4 I had seen earlier that day, but it was in much worse shape that it had been when I first saw it. The cab and boiler were dented and crushed from the roll down the hill, and one of the gondolas that had been in my train was speared through the boiler just above the wheels, right at the dividing line between the boiler and smoke box. Knowing that there was a crew mixed in with all that mess, sent me into overdrive as I ran to the crushed cab. 

But, just as I had feared when I saw the engine, the crew was not in the cab, which was now open to the wind as the tender had been ripped off and was laying in a heap not to far away. “There is an engine down here! But the crew’s gone!” I yelled to Dusty and Hazard, who had just reached the wreck site. They didn't ask questions as they began to scour the area for the missing crew. 

I was about to join them when I heard a groan come from the direction of the tender. I thought I had just been hearing things things, when I heard the groan again. I ran over to the tender, “Is anyone there?!” I called as I walked around the tender. “St-stokes? That you?” I heard as voice ask from inside the tender itself. 

I looked in, and found Ash Pan half buried under the remaining coal in the tender. “Ash!” I said in panic as questions buzzed in my head, the main one being, what was Ash Pan doing on a Cyrstal Northern train? “What are you doing here?” I asked as I unburied the top half of his body. 

“Fire pony for the train was sick as a dog, I offered to take the return trip for him.” Ash said weakly. That made sense, Ash Pan was often the one who volunteered to replace engineers and fire ponies if the need arose. 

His head then picked up, “ Wait, where's Crystal Shard? He, he was right in front of me before everything went black.” So, I had the engineer's name, but we still didn't know where he was, “Ash, what happened?” 

“We were just coming up the mountain, and then all of the sudden Crystal Shard yelled 'get down!’ and shoved me into the tender. Then everything went black, and I'm waking up like this. Stokes, where is Crystal Shard?” “I don't know Ash, but I'll find him, don't you worry.” I got up and went to exit the tender, “I'm gonna go look for Crystal Shard, you gonna be alright?” “Don't worry Stokes, I'll…. I'll be fine.” Ash said between a heavy cough. 

Though Ash Pan said he'd be fine, the blood he coughed up said otherwise. 

I just nodded, then made my way out of the tender. I had barely walked five steps away before I heard Coal Dust yell, “Stokes, get over here!” I ran to where I heard Coal Dust's voice, and found him and Hazard staring into the scrap pile. 

Before I could ask him what he was looking at, he just pointed. 

The sight I saw when I followed where his hoof was pointing is one that haunts my nightmares to this day, and probably will till the end of my life. 

We had found Crystal Shard. 

I cannot, and will not fully describe the sight that met my eyes when they laid upon the engineer, it was without a doubt that he was no longer among us. 

The three of us took our caps off out of respect for the lost brother of the rails, nothing was said, nothing needed to be said. When we finally snapped back to reality, I turned to Hazard, “Hazard, go radio Tall Tale, get someone, anyone out here.” Hazard nodded, before making his trek back up the mountain. 

Coal then turned to me, “I hope the fire pony is alright.” Coal said, but I could tell he didn't believe in his own words. “It was Ash Pan, he took over for the fire pony from the Empire back in Tall Tale. He's alive, back in the tender.” Coal Dust's eyes snapped open, “Ash!” He yelled before taking off towards the tender in a panic. I couldn't blame him, Ash was his brother after all. 

I looked back at where Crystal Shard laid, and sent a quick prayer up to Faust to take care of him, before following after Coal Dust. I found him helping a wincing Ash out of the tender. It was then Hazard came running up to us, “Tall Tale knows, they're sending up the wreckers. All we can do now is wait.” 

It would be nearly two hours before the salvage crew arrived, and with there help, we got Ash Pan up the hill. I couldn't bring myself to look as they went and recovered Crystal Shard, I had already seen too much. 

Soon enough, we were making our way back to Tall Tale, the swaying of the coach being our only remedy to our stirring minds. As I sat there in my seat, I couldn't help but run over every bit of the day's events, things just weren't adding up. 

“It just doesn't make sense.” I said to myself aloud. “What doesn't?” Coal dust asked from further back in the coach. He was the only one in there with me, as Hazzard had to return to his signal box to help the other signal operators figure out what to do with the trains that were still on The Grade and could no longer cross. 

I sighed, “All of today. Finishing today or not, that slow order should have been listed in our orders. Then we get down to Vanhoover and get told that the slow order was lifted, but the board at the bridge is still up. What's more, is it looked like no work had been done to the bridge at all. It just doesn't make any sense.” 

Coal Dust just turned to look back at the coach Ash Pan was riding in, “I don't know what to tell you Stokes, I really don't.” The rest of the ride was silent, both me and Dusty lost in thought. 

We pulled into Tall Tale not long after, with a cavalcade of ponies waiting to help Ash. As they helped the badly injured fire pony, me and Coal Dust disembarked the train ourselves. No pony asked us anything, they just gave us the room we needed. With nothing left for us to do, we quietly walked to our bunks, where a restless night awaited us. 

The next day Coal Dust went and checked on Ash Pan. He was in bad shape, but he'd pull through. I couldn't bring myself to leave my bunk, I was too lost in my thoughts. I just kept running that day over and over again in my head. 

I kept looking for some fault in my actions, something that would point to why this all happened, but I just couldn't find one. Night came quick, and I pulled myself back into bed, for another restless night. 

The last thought that went through me head before I finally passed out from exhaustion at 2 in the morning was, “I'm the reason somepony isn't at home tonight.”
> Chapter 6: The Run Of A Lifetime
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was five days before I went back to work. It was also five days before I could bring myself to leave my bunk. 

I’d spent those days barely eating, barely sleeping, and listening to the radio as every critic that I had picked up from the #3800 incident tore into me with both barrels. I couldn’t go from one radio station to another without the music being cut out within ten minutes by another pony going on a rant about how I should be fired, or jailed, or exiled, or all three. 

Eventually, Coal Dust showed up at my door at 5:00 A.M. that fifth day after the wreck. “Stokes, you awake?” He called in. Of course I was, but I’m sure he knew that. I dragged myself out of bed, and trudged over to the door. I opened it to find Coal Dust dressed in his fire pony denims, “What’re you up to Dusty?” “I’m going back to work, and so are you.” He said in a tone that was supposed to leave to room to argue. 

I, however, wasn’t so sure, “I don’t know Coal. I don’t know if I’m ready to go back.” The look on Coal Dust’s face would have been priceless in any other context. “Not ready, to go back to work? Who are you and what the hell have you done to Fire Stoker?” “Coal Dust this is serious! My actions basically closed down half the railway! My-my actions got..” The end of my sentence was cut off as Coal Dust slapped me with the back of his hoof, hard. 

Really hard. 

I stumbled back into my bunk, before turning my head back to Coal Dust, “Dusty what the hell!” “What, you needed it.” “How did I need a slap to the face?!?” 

Coal Dust walked into my bunk before shutting the door behind him, “Because you aren’t acting like yourself. Did what happened a week ago hurt the railway, yes. Was that wreck a tragedy, absolutely. Could we have died in the mess, without a doubt. But, despite all of that, you aren’t acting like you. What happened to that pony who kept his cool during that whole shit show with #3800 enough to work an entire shit shift? What happened to that pony back at Wood Reefer’s place last week that walked into dispatch with his head held high despite the quote “mudslinging” done by ponies who don’t know what they are talking about? And the thing is Stokes, nothing that happened last week with #97 was your fault. Yeah you were the one on the hoof-plate, in the engineer’s seat of the engine that wrecked to start with, but that doesn’t mean anything that happened is your fault. You should know better than almost anypony that accidents on this line are hardly ever the fault of the hoof-plate crew, and usually are caused by some outside obstacle. If you want an extreme example, one I know you’re gonna hate me for bringing up, is your dad’s wreck. Stuck running through the fog, and he ends up running into the back of a stalled coal drag that the signal pony couldn't see. Was it really anypony’s fault? Not really, but that signal pony felt like he was the reason why the wreck happened, and why you lost your dad. He felt so bad he was going to quit the railway But what did you do, you walked up to him two days after the wreck and told him it wasn't his fault, and said that he shouldn't quit doing what he loves. Now Semaphore is the Vanhoover yard master, all because you got him to understand what you already knew.” 

Coal Dust then looked me dead in the eyes, “So, what the hell happened to that Fire Stoker?” To say I was caught off guard by Coal’s speech would be an understatement. Coal Dust was usually a colt of few words, with those words usually being some mix of swears. To hear him speak so, unlike himself, was actually exactly what I needed, surprisingly. 

“Damn Coal, when did you become the motivational speaker?” Dusty cracked a small grin, “Ash Pan helped actually. I told him about how you've been acting like the last few days, and he said and I quote, 'Go talk some senses into that over thinking, thoughtful, idiotic, thickheaded, big hearted steam cowboy’.” 

That got a laugh out of me, making me feel better than I had in days. “Well, I guess Ash isn't feeling too bad then, he's at least acting like his old self.” Coal Dust nodded, “Yeah, he's hanging in there. I'll catch you up on everything on the way over to Wood Reefer's.” For the first time in days, I fully smiled, “Well, lead the way then.” Coal Dust, happy that I was at least partly back to myself, nodded and lead the way down to the Cafe. 

As we walked over, Dusty filled me in on Ash Pan's condition. Though he had taken a battering in the wreck, coming out of it with six broken ribs, a cracked skull and concussion, sprained rear legs, and dislocated shoulder, he was making a fast recovery, and was back to acting like himself. 

By the time we got to Wood Reefer’s cafe, I was feeling more like myself than I had been for the last few days. We walked into Reefer's Cafe to find many of the other first shift workers were already packing the place as they started their day. Many turned when they heard the door open for us, and we found ourselves greeted by raised coffees, smiles, and inquiries as to how we were holding up. I smiled, it was good to be back with my railroad family. 

We took up a seat at the counter top, and Wood Reefer looked over to us with a smile, “Boys, it's good to see you two again. And by the looks of it, you're heading back to the railway.” My smile grew and we both nodded, “Yeah, we are. Coal finally got me to see sense, so we're heading back to work.” Reefer's smile grew, “Good to hear. This place hasn't been the same without you.” 

He then walked over to me and laid a hoof on my shoulder, “I'll bet my pension and what's left of my denims that I know what you've been saying to yourself the last few days. I've seen it happen before. Just know this Stokes, none of us here think less of you for what happened. We all know what the job entails, and I know you do too, almost more than anyone here.” 

He then let a smile grace his face, “Don’t let this get to you too much Stokes, you’ve got all of us watching your back no matter what they say about you in the papers.” I smiled, “Thanks Reefer, that’s definitely one of the things I needed today.” Reefer laughed, “Don’t worry you two, the usual is coming up.” “Thanks Reefer!” Coal and I called as the stallion walked away to make our coffees. 

A couple minutes later, the two of us were chatting away with some of the other engine and shop crews as we slowly drank our coffee. We weren’t in too much of a rush, as we guessed dispatch still wasn’t expecting us to come in, and we wanted to catch up with some of our friends. Wood Reefer was still behind the counter, cleaning a coffee cup as the radio above him played out the classic country songs that it always did. 

For that moment, I finally felt like I once had when I started doing this after I graduated high school. 

It was then that the radio went to static for a quick second, before a voice that was not singing songs cut through the coffee shop. ”Good morning ponies of Equestria, this is Hot Scoop with a special report. Since the tragic events that took place on the Smokey Mountain region of the Celestial Pacific Railroad nearly a week ago, many ponies have been placing fault for the accident at the hooves of the runaway’s crew. More aptly, it’s engineer Fire Stoker. This is the same Fire Stoker that made headlines just a week before when the locomotive in his command was badly damaged, nearly leading to the death of his fire pony Coal Dust, who also happened to be working with Fire Stoker during this latest incident.” 

I groaned and laid my head down on the counter top, “Faust dammit, here we go again.” I grumbled to no pony in particular. 

The coffee shop fell completely silent as the reporter continued, ”That however, is only one side of the opinions in regards to Fire Stoker. I’m currently at Tall Tale roundhouse with Blow Torch, the chief mechanical engineer of the Tall Tale engine shops, and a long time friend of Fire Stoker. I’ve been told you were working the night shift last night Blow Torch, so I would first like to apologize for keeping you up.” 

A deep laugh came through the radio’s speaker, ”It’s not a problem at all Mr. Scoop. I’ve got today and tomorrow off, so I’ve got plenty of time to catch up on my sleep.” 

”Ah, good to hear. Now, you said you’ve been a close friend to Fire Stoker for a number of years now?” 

”That I have. Known Fire Stoker since our school days. Us railroad brats were a tight knit group back in school, we were all good friends. But Stokes, Stokes was special.” 

”How so?” 

”I don’t think I’ve ever seen a colt get dealt as bad a hoof as he was, and still end up coming out on top.” 

”If I may ask, what do you mean by, bad hoof?” 

”Stokes has had it rough in life. Lost his Grandad at 8. Hotbox was basically a second father to Stokes. Then he lost his Dad at 13 in a wreck, bad weather and a signal mix up, never saw it coming. But he pushed through it all. And I’ll tell you what, he is one of the hardest workers I’ve ever seen. Took a full day of advanced classes his senior year, then he’d go to hoofball practice for three hours, then he’d pull a late night shift at the roundhouse. Got home at around one ever morning. He graduated with straight A’s at the top of the class and a healing ACL, then went straight to work for the railroad.” 

”Wow, that’s quite impressive. But that does make a perfect segway into my next question. What’s Fire Stoker like when it comes to being a railroad employee?” 

”Oh he’s one of the best around. Great to talk with and easy going, and an amazing driver. He was made an engineer at the age of 20, put at the beck and call of an HG-10, the most powerful engine built for the line. He’s been one of the most reliable engineers on the railroad since he started driving.” 

”Now you say that he is one of the best and most reliable, so what’s your opinion on the last two weeks?” 

”I was wondering when you were gonna ask about that, I knew you were going to. Well it just so happens that you’re asking the best pony you could find.”  

”What do you mean?” 

”Like you said earlier, I’m the chief engineer for the Tall Tale roundhouse back shops, which means it’s my job to know every part of every engine that runs on this line, and know how and why they break, and then how to fix them. Over the years I’ve developed an ability to just look at an engine and be able to tell whether or not it’s worthy to head out on a train, it’s kinda my job. Now I only got a few brief glances at #3800 before Stokes and Dusty took her out for their run, but I didn’t need to study it for half an hour to know that #3800 was not fit to leave the roundhouse. To be honest, I’m surprised she got as far as she did before she threw a shoe, and Stokes would have noticed the problems with the shoes too.” 

”So that brings up a new question. If Fire Stoker would have noticed these mechanical issues, why would he still choose to take the engine?” 

”Because he didn’t have a choice. The way we’re forced to do things now, the engineer’s are given an engine with their orders. Whatever engine is on that sheet, is the one you take. This isn’t too much of a change, except for the fact that engineer’s used to just be permanently assigned to an engine, but the problem is the engineers can’t change engines if something is wrong with the one they’re given. Sure, there is a way to get your engine switched out for a different one, but the process takes so long now that you get a write-up for being late in the end. Most engineers now just take what they’re given and run their train, or crash trying.” 

”Is that what you think happened with #97?” 

”I couldn’t tell you, I didn't get a chance to see #97 before her wreck. But it honestly wouldn’t surprise me, I’ve seen things like that happen far too often.”

”Is, is that sort of situation a common issue?” 

”Unfortunately, it’s become one. One that’s stolen many a friend from me.” 

”Is that so?” 

”Well, let me put it like this, out of the 117 ponies that I graduated school with, 81 went to work on the railway. Out of that 81, 48 became hoofplate workers. Out of them, only 25 still work for the railway, and only 7 quit.” 

The radio went silent, and so did the cafe. We all knew this already, but that still didn’t make it any easier to hear. 

”I’m sorry to hear that Blow Torch, but I have to say, you’ve given me and the rest of Equestria a lot to think about. But I’m sorry to say, we’re out of time. Thank you very much for your point of view on the matter Blow Torch.” 

”Not a problem. But, can I say one last thing before ya leave?” 

”Of course” 

”To all you out there judging Fire Stoker, know this. On a railway, an accident is rarely ever solely the fault of the hoofplate crew. Sometimes you gotta look up the chain of command to find the cause.” 

The cafe broke out in cheers and shouts of agreement as Blow Torch said that. Even Wood Reefer was voicing his opinion with the others. They were so rowdy we barely heard the reporter come back. 

”Ah, thank you very much Blow Torch. Well there you have it Equestria, straight from a Tall Tale railworker’s mouth. Have we been too quick to place judgement upon a pony just trying to do his job? Or is this pony biased from knowing Fire Stoker for so long. No offense Blow Torch.” 

”None taken.” 

”So there it is everypony, now the decision is yours. This is Hot Scoop reporting from Tall Tale yards.” 

The radio then switched back to the music it had been playing before the report had come on. By the time the music came back, the other railponies around us still hadn’t completely calmed down. As the music came back properly, Wood Reefer walked back over to us, “Ya see what I mean Stokes, the rest of us got your back. We’re family out here, and families stick together through everything.” I couldn’t help but smile, and give the older stallion a quick hug, “Thanks Reefer.” 

We hung around for a few more minutes, chatting with the ponies who hadn’t left for the yards yet about whatever came up. But eventually, the time came and we all had to make our way down to dispatch for our orders, or the shops for our wrenches. We lead the ponies who were still in Reefer's Cafe out into the street that went towards the yard. We looked like a small mob, just like we always did went leaving the cafe after our first shift wake up cup. 

As the rails of the yard grew near, our group split in two as ponies made their way over to the roundhouses. I walked into dispatch at the head of the engine crew group. I looked around the inside of the familiar building with a smile, it felt good to be back. The group then fell apart as ponies moved around to the different desks of dispatch. 

Though no pony was assigned to a specific dispatcher when it came to receiving their orders for the day, but it always seemed like the orders worked their way into the hooves of the same stallion or mare they dealt with the day before. And the week before that. And the month before that. And the yea, alright I think you get the picture.

Just like I had done hundreds of times before, I made a beeline for Files’ desk with Coal Dust in tow. It always amazed me that Files always seemed to know exactly when me and Dusty would be walking into dispatch, because he always seemed to be conveniently walking out at the perfect time. Even though his shift ended at six in the morning, he always stuck around until 7 when me and Dusty came in for our shift. 

I didn’t expect to find him at his desk, as it was now nearly nine, and I presumed he would have thought that Dusty and I weren’t coming in again and I’d be greeted by the appearance of his first shift replacement Paper Clip. 

Is it just me or do ponies who work in office buildings or with paperwork seem to always have the most boring and cliche names? Whatever back to the story. 

So it was a surprise when I came around the corner where Files desk was to see him sitting there going through paperwork three hours after he should have went home, with Paper Clip nowhere in sight. “Oh hey Files, wasn’t expecting to see you still here.” I said as we walked up. 

Files whipped his head around to face us so fast that I swear he must have pulled something. “Stokes, Dusty, am I glad to see you two again.” He said with what almost equated to a look of relief come across his face. 

I smiled, “Yeah, Coal Dust dragged me out of bed finally, so it’s back to the grind.” “Well, it’s good to see you two back at it, I wasn’t expecting to see either of you until at least next week.” “Yeah, well we’re here now, and that’s all that matters. So, you got a train for us?” 

Files looked back to the papers on his desk, “No, unfortunately. I just sent Coal Chute and Gold Spike out with the train that we had scheduled you two to take. We didn’t really know when the two of you were gonna make it back in, so we’ve been making copies of the orders for trains we wanted you guys to take, and then we just get rid of the sets that have your names on it when you don’t show.” 

Files then sifted through a few more papers on his desk, before his face lit up, “Hold on a sec, I actually do have something for you two.” The quick turnaround got me and Coal curious, “Oh? Where’s it going?” Files turned to us with a big smile on his face, “Well, it’s going to Ponyville, but..” 

“Wait, Ponyville, no way!” Coal Dust said with the kind of elation that I had never seen the stallion express. Both myself and Files were caught completely off guard, “Woah, you alright Coal?” I asked. “I’m great Stokes, why wouldn’t I be?” “What’s with all of, this.” I said, waving a hoof at him. Coal gave me a look, but it wasn’t able to betray his joy, “Stokes, I grew up in Ponyville. It was where I lived before we moved so my dad could work for the railway. I finally get to go see all my old friends.” 

Before I could say anything, Files stepped in again, “Well, this run is gonna be even better for you two.” He then hooved me the order forms, “Read the assigned motive power.” I took the paperwork and looked down to where the locomotive numbers were listed. “Wait a second, #9413 and #9414? What are two TT8’s doing out of retirement?” 

“Manehatten Central got in contact with us about a month ago asking if they could barrow two of our TT8’s to run trials with to see if they would be a viable option for their new express run. So we pulled two those two out off the dead line and brought them back to working condition. Finished them up two days ago and we’re sending them off today. Chute and Spike were supposed to be the second crew for the train, but they were needed to take yours. I thought we were just gonna have to send the Manehatten crew that came in last night out on their own, but now you two are here!” 

It was my turn to give somepony a look, this time it was directed towards Files, “Hold on, you were gonna send out a crew from Manehatten in charge of two of the most power passenger locomotives ever built? A set of locomotives who’s sister class took me months to master?” A big smile grew on Files face, ”Not just any crew from Manehatten, read the second page.” I flipped over to the second page and read over the crew list. 

The engineer’s name I didn’t recognize, but the firepony’s name stood out. “Holy Faust, Iron Sides!” I couldn’t believe my eyes as they read that name again and again. I hadn’t seen that name in years, since I had been a teenager. Iron Sides was my father’s firepony from the time he became an engineer, up to the day of the accident that sadly took his life. Iron Sides had stuck around in Tall Tale for a couple years before he finally chose to leave due to the memories that hit him everytime he went over the hills. He moved out to rural outskirts of Manehatten and took up a job as a firepony out there. 

After what he went through in the wreck, I honestly couldn’t blame him. “Yep, when Iron Sides heard about the run, he volunteered to make the make the down trip. You better hurry though, they’re set to head out in just a few minutes.” Files didn’t have to say that twice, as we took off out the door that lead to the railyard, racing towards outbound four. It was barely a minute before we caught site of the train sitting ready on the track, the two powerful engines hooked up to a train of 33 heavy weight metal passenger cars. 

We quickly sprinted to the front, finding #9414 at the head of the train, also happening to be the only engine under steam. I had been sure to lead us up the left side of the engine, the side that the firepony sate on. I had nothing against the engineer, but he really wasn’t the pony I wanted to see. I swear it was like a tv show reveal as I walked up to the firepony’s window. I couldn’t believe my eyes as I looked up to see the grey on grey pony leaning on the window sill checking over the engine’s gauges. 

“Iron Sides.” The words barely left me, as I had basically been rendered speechless. But somehow, Iron Sides heard me over the sounds of the engine. His head turned and he looked down at me, nearly ten feet below him. It took him a second to realize who I was, as it had been over a decade since the last time we had talked face to face, but when realization hit his eye grew. “Fire Stoker, is that you?” I couldn’t help the smile that took over my muzzle, “Yeah Iron Sides, it’s been a while hasn’t it?” 

Iron Sides didn’t say a thing, instead he flung himself out of the cab and wrapped me in a hug, “Kid it’s been years!” I laughed as he finally let me down, “Yeah it has, too many if you ask me. How are the ribs holding up?” “The broken ones or the metal ones?” Iron Sides said with a chuckle. Coal and I couldn’t help but laugh, it was then Iron Sides noticed Coal Dust. “Oh, Coal Dust, good to see you again too. Been staying out of trouble for once?” Coal laughed harder, “Not a chance, this is me we’re talking about FeSi.” 

FeSi was the, honestly kinda dumb, nickname Coal had given Iron Sides, and had all but insisted on calling him every time the two talked. It was then a voice from above us cut in, “So you weren’t kidding when you said you knew The Fire Stoker.” The three of us turned to see the engineer sticking his head out over the left stairs. “Told you!” Iron Sides laughed up at the other stallion. 

He then turned back to the two of us, “Coal, Stokes, this is Sand Dome, one of the ponies I regularly work with back on the MC.” Sand Dome smiled down at us, “Heard a lot about you two recently.” The once forgotten look of dread crossed my face, but before I could say anything, Sand Dome quickly dismissed my concerns, “Don’t worry you two, I’m smart enough to know that I shouldn’t believe everything I hear before all the facts come out. And if Iron Sides here is any testament to the caliper of drivers that come out of these hills, then I know there’s something more to those two wrecks that what all the radio stations are preaching.” That set my mind at ease, and I’m sure it did the same for Dusty. 

Iron Sides then turned back to me, “So you two are our new head crew I take it?” I shrugged, “I just know that we’re the second crew. I don’t know what you had planned out.” Sand Dome spoke up again, “Well we were hoping to get a Tall Tale crew that knew how to handle these engines, as I’ve never touched them, a Iron Sides told me he never got the chance to while he was working up here.” “They were still rolling off the assembly line when I left. I think only like seventeen of the things were running the rails then.” “Right, so we were just gonna run as rolling stock in the other engine.” 

That explained why #9413 wasn’t in steam, “So you’re gonna make us do all the work?” Iron SIdes gave me a skeptical look, “If what Red has been telling me over the years is true, none of you here have gotten to even touch one of these engines in a long time. You really think I was gonna take that away from whoever the had us run with?” “Fair point, out of my cab.” Coal said as he walked over the the ladder. 

All four of us laughed, and we quickly traded places. For me and Dusty, it was just like old times again as we settled into the cab of #9414. She might have been slightly taller and a lot faster than her freight hauling cousins, 9414 and 9336 were identical when it came to the cabs. Since Iron Sides and Sand Dome had already gotten the engine prepped for the run, there wasn’t much we had to do besides wait for the green signal that would give us the road. 

A couple minutes later, I watched the signal drop from red to green, the mainline was ours. I smiled as I reached up and grabbed #9414’s regulator and slowly inched it open. Though she basically had a third of an HG-10’s tractive effort, #9414 easily brought her, basically, 34 car train into motion. We rumbled across the outgoing switch and crossed onto the Southbound main. We traveled along at 30mph, but once we were at the yard limit, I let the old girl stretch her legs. 

From Tall Tale, we were bound for Hoofington, before we’d head East across the desert plans around Appaloosa, then to Ponyville. Thankfully, due to how the rail network was built, we didn’t have to travel up into Canterlot to get to the small town, but all in all, it was still going to probably be about a good 36 hour run. Coal Dust and I planned to make a stop for the night in the junction town of Applewood, where the line split to either take you further on the Eastern main to Ponyville, or down South to Dodge Junction, and then Dodge City beyond. 

That still meant about 18 hours of running before we would get to have a proper rest, but I could get over that fact because I was driving #9414. We rolled through Hoofington two hours later, the “quick” part of the run going by quick. Ahead of us were the rolling hills that lead to our refueling stop in Mustangia, before we’d be let loose one the desert flats of the Midwest. #9414 ate up the tracks of the small 0.5-0.9% grades of the hills, having been built for much, much worse. 

This put us into Mustangia half an hour ahead of schedule, with myself bringing the massive machine to a stop under the coal chute of the small yard at just a little past 1:30 p.m.. With just over four and a half hours of our journey down, and having spent most of that on “small” hills and flats, #9414 had only eaten through roughly a third of her coal and water supply. We took the stop in Mustangia however because our next fuel stop wouldn’t be until we got to Appaloosa, which was 12 hours away. 

The fuel up there would give us plenty to make the last hour and a half journey to Applewood, where we’d finally get to have a rest at about 3 in the morning if we stuck to the line speed of 85mph. After a quick top up, we pulled back onto the mainline at 1:45 p.m. We soon made it out of the Mustangia city limits, and found ourselves pounding across the flat desert plans of the Midwest at the line’s speed limit. 

Four hours later, Dusty and I were bored out of our minds. All we had to watch was flat lands of sand, and we still had eight hours of this. It was nearly 6 p.m., and sundown was still over two hours away, so we really had nothing to do but stare at the flat, strait, nothingness around us. Eventually I began to look around the cab, just to have something else to look at. Eventually, my attention was drawn to the engine’s speedometer, where the needle was sitting dead on 85. Something I had always found weird about the TT8 speedometer was how high it went before it finally topped out. 

The speedometer finally topped out at 160mph, which was a lot higher than the 90 mph speedo in the HG-10’s. I always felt this was extremely wishful thinking, as the fastest locomotive of the time was, ironically, a Manehatten Central Dreyfuss Hudson that had achieved a top speed of 119 mph. Though the only time we had somewhat maxed an engine from the class out at 114 mph, and the engineer had said that the engine still had plenty of speed left in her, that was a long way from 160 mph. 

As I sat there bored, I eventually came up with a slightly stupid idea. “Coal, I’m bored and I’ve got an idea.” “What sort of idea?” “We should see how fast this ol’ girl can go.” Coal sat up, “Wait are you talking about trying to max the engine out?” I shrugged, “Might as well. We've got the track, and no pony knows what the top speed of these things are. Might as well see how useful this 160 mph speedo is.” 

Coal sat there for a few moments, and then cracked a grin, “Screw it, this is probably the last chance we’ll ever get at this. Open the taps Stokes!” I cracked a grin too, and did just that. 

The speed quickly began to rize, first 90, then 95, then we cracked triple digits. We were already well past the fastest I had ever moved in an engine, but the speed kept rising. 105, 110, 115, then we hit 120, we were officially the fast thing on rails, ever. 

Coal Dust and I were freaking out in #9414’s cab, and that only continued as the engine’s speed kept rising. 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, “Faust how high is she gonna go!” Dusty yelled over the sound of the rushing wind. I didn’t respond, my eyes were glued to the glass with that moving needle behind it. 

The increase of speed started to slow, but we were still gaining as we blew into the 130’s. 133, 134, 135, 136, we really started to slow once we hit 137, but #9414 kept going. 

138, 139, “Holy Shit 140!” We couldn’t believe it. We knew our engine could beat the Hudson’s 119, but we didn’t expect her to smash it like this. The needle continued to just barely move, until it finally went as high as the engine could go, 142 mph. 

For over three minutes we tore down the tracks at that mind melting speed, we had done it. Without actually trying, we had smashed the Equestrian speed record for locomotives, and finally answered the decade old question of, what was the TT8’s top speed. Eventually I felt that the high speeds were probably destroying the running gear parts, I closed the regulator, and over the next half hour, let the train slow back to the line speed of 85 mph. 

Because of that run at world record speeds, it put us into Appaloosa ahead of schedule, way ahead of schedule. We pulled into the freight yards of Appaloosa at 12:53 in the morning. We weren’t supposed to show until 1:45. By now, Coal Dust and I expected ourselves to barely be awake thanks to the boring scenery and long run, but the adrenaline pumping through us from the crazy speeds we had hit had us feeling like we had just chugged a cup of Wood Reefer’s special “wake the hell up” triple espresso. 

We had barely began refilling the coal of the tender for when Sand Dome and Iron Sides came walking up to #9414’s cab. “What the hell was that!” Iron Sides said as they stopped next to my window. I just shot them a cocky smile, “What? We wanted to find out what the top speed of these engines was.” 

Sand Dome on the other hoof, wasn’t even looking at us, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the engine we sat in, “I can’t believe how fast you got this thing up to, with such a long train to boot.” Iron Sides turned to him, “I wasn’t joking when I said these engines were powerful.” “No, no you weren’t.” They stood there and talked with us until the tender was full of coal, then walked back to #9413 when we started to fill up on water. 

At just a little past 1 A.M., we were filled up again and the road was ours once more. They’re weren’t many trains that came out this way once the sun went down, so being over an hour ahead of schedule wasn’t an issue. The hour run to Applewood was pretty uneventful, we kept it mostly under 100 mph, but I couldn’t really help myself after that record run. 

It was about 2:15 in the morning when we came rolling into the small junction town. The only sheds that were built in the yard were a small set for the shunters, so we just parked the train on one of the yard’s receiving tracks and dumped the fire. The adrenaline that had been running through me earlier was finally starting to fade, and I was starting to nod off in my seat. 

Once the fire had been dropped and we had blown out the boiler with the help of one of the graveyard shop crew members, myself, Coal, Iron Sides, and Sand Dome made our way over to the town hotel, where we grabbed two rooms, and crashed. 

I found myself waking up at around 2:30 the next afternoon, turning to see Coal still dead to the world, sawing logs. I rolled my eyes, it was something that I had become used to at this point, having basically spent the last nine years of my life living with him in one way or another. 

I walked down to the lobby to grab a cup of coffee, to fine Iron Sides was down there already. “Hey kid.” He said with a nod towards me before taking another sip from his cup. “Hey Iron Sides. I’m surprised to see you up already. I almost always beat others waking up.” The older stallion shrugged, “Just something I’ve always done.” I nodded, before grabbing my own cup and starting to make my coffee. 

Iron Sides looked over to me after as I started to add cream and sugar to my coffee, “You still gotta take that shit extra sweet? I thought you would have gotten used to drinking it black when you worked in the shop, that’s what happened with me.” I laughed as I sat down next to him, “I got used to it for the five years I worked in the shops yes, but that just made me want the taste of sugar back when I started going to Wood Reefer’s place when I became an engineer.” 

Iron Sides gave me a confused look, “You worked in the shops for five years? Why? I would have expected you to get out of there the second your two years was up.” I had to laugh, “I did, but I also started working in the shops before I was 18. Ditchlight let me start working as a greaser at 15, did the same for Coal Dust too. I still had to do my two years after I turned 18 though. I think I started about two weeks after you left.” 

I turned back to Iron Sides to see his face fall as I said that, “I guess I missed a lot when I left didn’t I?” “Iron, it’s alright. Even back then I understood why you left, and I still don’t blame you for anything.” Iron cracked a small smile, “Thanks Stokes, that still means a lot. I guess I need a little reminding once and awhile. Oh, speaking of your parents, how’s your ma been?” I smiled, “She’s alright. Haven’t sent her a letter since this craziness started though. She’s probably tearing her mane out right now.” 

We both laughed, then Iron spoke again, “That’s part of the reason I volunteered to fire the train over to Tall Tale. All of us back on the MC have been hearing the stupid stuff ponies have been saying about you. I’m sure everypony on the railway have been telling you that they’ve got your back, but I wanted to make sure you knew that there’s more than just the Smokey’s watchin out for ya.” I grinned, “That’s exactly what an engineer in the Crystal Empire told me when I was up there two weeks ago.” Iron Sides cocked his head, “What were you doing in the Crystal Empire?” My grin hit maximum smugness, “Driving a Mammoth Class.” 

“Oh come on! You drove a Mammoth while I was laid up? Faust damn it!” Iron and I looked over to see Sand Dome, and now a very salty Coal Dust walking into the hotel lobby. I stood up and grinned at Dusty, “You can kill me later. Come on, let’s go wake up 14.” Dusty groaned and mumbled under his breath, yet still followed behind me as we walked out towards the railyard. 

At 3:20, we had #9414 back in full steam, and Sand and Iron had retaken their place in #9413. I didn’t mind that they weren’t really doing anything, because it just let me have more fun with the big powerful engine. Now sure, should they have probably been trading off with us at least once a day, but i justified it in my mind with the perfect argument. One, they have no experience with an engine that is much, much more powerful than anything they’ve ever handled before, and two, shut up brain I’m having fun for the first time in a while. 

Anyways, we set off for Ponyville at 3:30 p.m., and 17 hours later, after two more fuel stops and some hills crossed, the roofs of Ponyville started to come into view. We hit the tracks of the Ponyville branchline at around 9 a.m. the next day, and I slowly pulled the big train through the station and towards the small yard. I was actually kinda surprised that the tracks of the little branchline could hold up the weight of #9414 and her train.

As we passed through the station, I looked over to see a few colts and to my slight surprise, four fillies standing by the trackside watching me as I rolled in. I couldn’t help myself, I grabbed the cord to the whistle and sent out the call of the Guild, watching as all the foals jumped and took a few steps back. I then pushed the reverser all the way forwards and pulled open the regulator as far as it would go. 

The light beats that had been drumming from #9414 as she coasted into the yard were replaced with deep loud roars as the cylinders took full steam. That sent the foals running like they had seen a monster, which they kinda did in a way. I just laughed and closed the regulator again, letting the train coast into a yard that it just barely fit in. 

Once I brought the train to a final stop, I climbed down and walked back to #9413, “So what’s the plan now?” I called up to Sand Dome. He looked down to me, “We’re gonna wait for one of the lead engine inspectors to come down from Manehatten to check the two old girls over, then we’ll take them back to Manehatten and run our tests.” “Why isn’t the inspector here now?” Sand shrugged, “Cause that would have made sense.” I rolled my eyes, he had a point, “Alright, well I’m gonna dump the fire, train’s your problem now.” “Got it.”

It took about 15 minutes to drop the fire and blow out the boiler, and once that was all taken care of we left the two TT8’s in the hooves of Sand Dome and Iron Sides as Dusty and I walked our way back to Ponyville station. Even though both Coal and myself were pretty tired after the second long run in as many days, he still looked like we was wide awake, “I can’t wait to track down my old buddies, I’m sure at least Mac and Ratchet are still kicking around here. Faust knows where Mason ended up, I really didn’t get to know him for that long.” 

I laughed, “I’m sure we’ll find them, but first I’m gonna get some sleep.” Coal rolled his eyes, “Of course.” 

As we walked onto the station platform, a pony walked out of the office and came over to us, “Are you Fire Stoker?” I was slightly confused, but considering this was another rail employee, I didn’t think much about it, “Yep, that’s me, what can I do for you?” The other pony reached into his vest and pulled out an envelope, “Telegram for you came in for you last night from a Tall Tale dispatcher by the name of Files.” “Oh, thanks.” I said as I took the envelope, now very confused. 
The other pony nodded, then walked back to his office. 

“I wonder what Files wants?” Coal Dust asked. I shrugged, unsure, then opened up the envelope and pulled out the telegram. 

Stokes, Dusty, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but somepony is after you. When Coal Chute and Gold Spike showed up in Vanhoover with the train you two would have taken, they got stormed by a bunch of royal guards. They were looking for you two, more importantly you Stokes. And I’m not just speculating that, they actually came out and said it. Apparently they think you’re wanted for murder because of the #97 accident, which doesn’t make any sense. But that’s not the point, Vanhoover and Tall Tale are crawling with guards looking for you. Thankfully, I didn’t fill in the orders for the Ponyville train with your names when you left, I was too tired and went straight home, which saved you guys. They have no idea where you are, but I don’t know how long they’re gonna stay here. Whatever you do, do not come back to Tall Tale! 

Coal Dust and I just stared at the telegram, shocked. Someone was trying to arrest me, for something I had no control over. I didn’t know what to feel, or what to do. It seemed like somepony was trying to ruin my life for no reason. 

Coal Dust looked over to me, “Stokes, what the hell is going on.” I just continued to stare at the telegram, “I don’t have a clue Dusty. But I do know one thing.” 

I then turned to Coal, “We’re on the run, and we can’t go home.”
> Side Chapter 3: An Unwanted Goodbye
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Warning, this chapter contains images of the aftermath of a train wreck and the injuries involved. You have been warned.


There are few days in my life that I will never forget. And Thursday September 29th 1237 is one of the worst among them. I remember every part of that day like the back of my hoof. 

I woke up at 6:30 to my alarm, just like I did every school day. You would think a 13 year old would hate waking up so early, but I had no problem with it. I thought of it like I was training for early mornings at the railyard. 

I kicked around in my room for a few minutes before I heard a voice from downstairs, “Fire Stoker, breakfast is ready!” “Be down in a sec Ma!” I grabbed my saddle bags off of my desk and hurried downstairs. I got down to the ground floor and turned left into the kitchen to find my Mom, Evening Sun, pulling the last of the pancakes from the stove and putting them on the table. 

Already sitting at the table was my Dad, Brick Arch, reading over the last of the morning paper and sipping at his coffee. As I walked in my Dad put down his paper, “Oh hey kiddo, how you doing this morning?” I smiled and gave him a quick hug, “Doing just fine Pops.” 

My Dad chuckled and patted me on the back, “Good to here, now sit down and eat your breakfast. Don’t need you late for school.” I laughed, but sat down and put three pancakes on my plate, happily digging in. Soon after, my Mom sat down, making herself a plate before passing everything over to my Dad. 

We sat there eating in silence for a few minutes, more than happy to just enjoy my Mom’s cooking. But a few minutes later, I decided to break that silence, “So what’s on you list for today Dad?” My Dad set down his fork as he chuckled, “Not sure yet, I didn’t stop by dispatch before I came downstairs this morning. But rumor has it that we have a big coal order coming through. So I’ll probably be running hoppers for most of the day.” 

He then looked at me with a big grin, “I take it you’ll being hanging around the roundhouse after school since coach gave you a break for today?” I smiled guiltily. Our hoofball team had the day off from practice because we had put in such hard work the last three days, but he did tell us that we’d still have to have a full practice Friday.

But I didn’t care, cause the day off meant that I could hang out around the railroad while my Dad was still on shift. “Yeah, I guess I will for a bit.” Both my Mom and Dad laughed, they were well aware of my love of the railway, so they didn’t mind me hanging around as long as I didn’t do anything stupid. 

“Well, I’m sure at some point I’ll be back in the yard while you’re hanging around, so long as you stay out of Iron Sides way this time, I’ll let you ride along with us on one of our round trips. Don’t need Sides taking out your forehooves again with his shovel.” This time, we all laughed. The last time I had rode along with my Dad, I hadn’t been paying attention and stepped into Iron Sides’ swing radius, and got my forehooves swung out from under me. I at least had a good story to tell at the lunch table the next day to explain why my hooves were all bandaged up. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I said, still laughing. 

My Dad kept chuckling as he got up from the table, taking his plate and mug over to the sink and dropping them in, “Alright, I gotta get to work, don’t want to leave Iron Sides on his own firing up #2718 again.” He walked over and kissed my Mom on the cheek, “I’ll see you later.” She kissed him back, “Have a good run honey. Love you” “Love you too.” 

He then walked over and ruffled my mane, “And I’ll see you at the roundhouse.” I gave him another quick hug, “You can count on it.” He chuckled, hugged me back, and then waved as he walked out the front door. 

That was the last time I ever saw my Father. 

Twenty minutes later, I gave my Mom a hug before I walked out the door on the way to school. At the same time, my father had just picked up his orders and was walking into roundhouse three. “Mornin’ Bricks.” My Dad looked up at his engine, a new 4-8-2 numbered #2718, to see Iron Sides standing in the cab. 

“Mornin’ Sides, you already got the horse steaming up?” Iron Sides shoveled in another load of coal, “Yep, already building pressure. Should be ready to roll in about ten minutes. That is if you give me a hoof finally.” My Dad chuckled as pulled himself onto the ladder, and set his orders down on his seat, “Alright fair enough. I’m gonna check to make sure everything is greased up and ready to roll.” Iron Sides nodded, “Sounds good.” 

Within half an hour, my Dad had pulled #2718 out of her shed birth and hooked her up to their first train of the day. Just as he guessed, it was a string of empty coal hoppers, bound for the mines of the Frozen north. 

Even before the return of the Crystal Empire, many coal mines were in the Frozen North.

Thankfully for him, his job was just to take the hoppers to Vanhoover, much to his relief. He was not a fan of how sketchy the tracks leading to the Frozen North were. At just after 8:30, while I was finishing up my first period science class, my Dad and Iron Sides set off on their first run over The Olde Grade. 

Eventually, Noon rolled around and finally I found myself at lunch. I came walking into the cafeteria to find my friends had beat me there, and were already sitting around a table. I took my seat, sitting down next to Coal Dust and Blow Torch, joining them, Ash Pan, Blastpipe, and Crankshaft to a round of ‘there he is’ and a ‘bout time you showed up’ from Coal Dust. 

“What’s goin’ on guys?” I said as I opened up my lunch box. Blastpipe, who was sitting across from me shrugged, “Oh nothing much. Blow Torch was just telling us how his Dad is getting re-stationed to a guard post in Canterlot.” 

Blow Torch’s Dad had worked for the railway for a few years, before he had decided to sign up for the Royal Guard. He got lucky and was stationed at the small reserve post in Tall Tale, which actually allowed him to still work part time in the backshops. I turned to Blow Torch, “Really? You’re moving to Canterlot?” 

Torch shook his head, “Nope. Only mah Dad is. Him and Ma talked about it and they decided that we’d stay here.” Crankshaft reached over the table, “Well, at least you get to stay here and get in trouble with us.” We couldn’t help but laugh at that. Coal Dust then looked over at me, “So I take it you’re gonna spend the day off at the roundhouse again?” 

I smiled at him, “Actually, Pops might be taking me for a ride in 18 over The Grade again!” There was a moment’s pause, before Ash Pan leaned past his brother and looked at me, “Just stay out of the way of Iron Sides’ shovel this time.” Again, we all couldn’t help but laugh. We all had those stories of doing stupid things that we should have known better than to do. 

At the same time my Dad and Iron Sides had already arrived in Vanhoover, dropped off their load of hoppers without an issue, and were already hooked up to their return train and were lined up and waiting to get the road. They had a simple train, only a 75 mixed freight made mostly out of boxcars, but my Dad could tell that a deep fog was descending upon The Grade. “I’m not liking the looks of this Iron, that fog’s pretty thick.” 

Iron sides looked up from his shoveling and took note of the cloud covered mountain. He didn’t like the looks of it either, “You weren’t kidding. Well, Yard Goat hasn’t said anything about the line being closed yet. I say we just take it slow and keep a close eye on the signals.” My Dad looked back up at The Grade, “Good point. It’s not like this is the first time we’ve ran through fog. Good old Smokeys’ living up to their name.” 

Iron laughed as the single in front of them dropped to green, and my Dad opened the regulator once again. As they climbed up through the Vanhoover hills, they delved deeper and deeper into the fog. “Wow, this is some of the thickest fog I’ve seen on the hills in awhile.” Iron Sides said as he threw another shovel load of coal into #2718’s firebox. 

My Dad didn’t like the look of things, “You’re telling me. I’m bringing it down to 25.” At this point, they were already on Discord’s drop, and with Nightmare soon to be looming down on them, 25 mph was the slowest my Dad was willing to risk with the steep hill ahead of them. It wasn’t too long before they hit the first mile of Nightmare, charging onto it and into the worst of the fog. 

What they didn’t know was a long coal train ahead of them was struggling against the forces that destroyed all trains on Nightmare. But their struggles against gravity wasn’t the only problem facing them. At the top of the mountain, Semaphore looked out worryingly towards the fog covered grade of Nightmare. 

He had to rely on the sounds of a train coming up the last of Nightmare to know if they were actually cleared of the wretched incline, and the coal train was already 15 minutes behind the schedule. This wasn’t an uncommon problem when it came to Nightmare, but he knew that my Dad and Iron Sides would be coming up behind them. Semaphore turned back to his time table, before looking back out towards Nightmare. “Common Super Heat, get that fat pig up the hill.” 

Back in the cab of of #2573, the 4-8-2 at the head of the slow moving coal drag, Super Heat was in a panic. He had only been an engineer on the T.T.M.S.L. for four months, and he was far outside his comfort zone. He was usually in charge of the fast freights to Hoofington and further East. Though he had taken a few trains over The Grade, he had never been in charge of one as heavy as the coal train behind him. Add onto that the thick cloud of fog and the fact that he was slowly running out of speed on the steepest part of the line, his mind was all kinds of screwed up. 

Rusted Shovel, his fire stallion who was just as new as his engineer, wasn’t doing too much better as he tried his best to keep steam pressure built up as it was quickly used up by his struggling engine. “Heat you gotta lay off the regulator, I can’t keep up!” Rusted yelled as he shoveled as quick as he could. “I can’t! We’re barely moving and we still have like three miles before the summit!” Super Heat yelled back, watching as the speedometer hit 10 mph and kept going lower. 

Six miles behind them, my Dad and Iron Sides were doing fine at keeping old #2718 rolling at a near steady 25 mph. “Should be nearly at the halfway point Sides.” My Dad called as he strained to see the yellow signal ahead of him. He had seen them ever since the run had started thanks to the fog, a precaution taken in these sorts of situations to keep the engine crews ready to stop. “Thank Faust, I forgot how much of a pain in the neck low speed running on Nightmare is. My back’s already sore.” Iron Sides said as he threw another shovel load of coal into the firebox. 

He then stood his shovel up and leaned on it, “I say we ask for a breather before taking another train.” My Dad laughed, “I’m with you there.” They both laughed as Iron Sides yelled over, "What are you complaining about, you get to sit on your flank all day." before going back to work with another round of laughter filled 18's cab.

Ahead of them, things were getting worse for Super Heat and Rusted Shovel, as their train slowed to less than 5 mph. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Super Heat panicked as he was finally forced to put on the brakes to keep the train from rolling back when it finally stalled. Rusted Shovel tried to calm his friend down, “We’ll be fine Heat. We can just let pressure build and then hill start. Yard Goat would have caught the fog and kept any other trains off the the hills. And even if he did, they'd get caught by a red signal” 

Super Heat took a few deep breaths, “Yeah, you’re probably right. We’ll be fine.” They couldn’t have known that my Dad was behind them, as he was the only Yard Goat had let out of the yard feeling that he had the experience to make it over the hills without much trouble, fog or no. Back up in his signal box, Semaphore was getting really worried. Super Heat was now nearly half an hour late passing his box, and he knew that even at 10 mph, my Dad would already be attacking Nightmare. 

Finally, he did what he felt he had to do. He went along, setting every signal before the halfway point of Nightmare to red. He felt that Super Heat would at least be past the halfway point of the climb, and this would prevent an sort of unwanted meeting between his train and my Dad’s. While he had been right about Super Heat, as he had stalled just after passing the 37 mile mark, he was wrong about where my dad was on the line. 

The last signal that Semaphore had set to red was at mile marker 33, the halfway point of Nightmare. The problem with this was the fact that a quarter of my Dad’s train was already past the signal at marker 33. He was now charging towards the back of Super Heat’s train, who’s stalled caboose sat just past the signal mile marker 36, and Semaphore had no idea. 

Back on #2718, my Dad squinted through the fog, “I still can’t believe how thick this stuff is. I can barely see the tracks in front of us.” “Well, how far have we gotten so far?” Iron Sides asked as he threw in another shovelful. “Passed the 33 signal a minutes back, should be hitting the 34 soon enough.” Iron Sides smiled, “Perfect, we can stop next to Semaphore’s box and wait out the rest of this stupid fog.” “That’s a good plan.” But they would never get to enact that plan, as just two minutes later, they had “blown” past marker 35 and were “thundering” towards the 36 marker. 

As they drew closer, my Dad took note of something strange staring back at him through the fog. “What the hell?” “What?” “There’s a yellow and a red light up the line.” “A yellow and a red? How’s that possible?” My Dad didn’t reply as they drew closer to the two lights, and through the fog he caught one of the last sights of his life. 

The back of Super Heat’s caboose. 

By the time he saw it, he knew he had no chance at stopping before he smashed into it. So instead, he did the only thing he could think to do. He grabbed Iron Sides by his denims, causing the fire stallion to drop his shovel. “Bricks what the!” before he could say anything else, my Dad threw him out of the cab. Seconds later my Dad was thrown into the bulkhead of his engine as it slammed into the caboose, knocking him out and reducing the caboose to splinters. 

Surprisingly, #2718 stayed on the tracks up until it crashed into the last coal car. The frame of #2718 bunched and twisted as it jumped off the tracks and rolled, collecting a few more coal cars as the train it had been pulling bunched up, with my Dad being stuck right in the middle of it. 

Up at the head of the stalled coal drag, Super Heat and Rusted Shovel felt their train shift, and the sound of the impact. “The hell was that?!?” Rusted Shovel asked, completely confused. Super Heat was set back into his panic, “I have no idea, but we need to find out. Quick, drop the fire!” Shovel nodded, and set about quickly putting his engine to bed. 

Back at the end of the train, #2718 had finally groaned to a stop, being buried under a number of its own boxcars. By a stroke of luck, the boiler had been spared from bursting, just, but steam was pouring out of her front through the destroyed smokebox. Inside the crushed and growing hotter cab, my Dad slowly began to come to. He groaned in pain as he tried to look around what was left of his second home. “How am I alive?” he muttered, before he tried to move. 

As he tried to push himself to his hooves, he yelled in pain. He looked back to see that his back had been slashed apart by broken glass and jagged metal he had hit as he was thrown around the cab in the wreck. He also found that he couldn’t move his back hooves. “Shit.” he mumbled again as he looked at his torn apart back, he knew he wouldn’t make it too long if nothing was done to attempt to seal up his wounds. 

That’s when he felt something running down his face. He didn’t need to be a doctor to know that he was pretty screwed. That’s when his foggy memory allowed him to remember his last actions before everything had went black. “I-iron Sides. I-I go-ta find him.” He wheezed. With his conscious state fading thanks to his injuries, the pain he felt went with it. So, setting his resolve, he began to drag himself out of #2718’s destroyed cab with his forehooves. 

Slowly but surely, he dragged himself from his wrecked engine and over to the side of the tracks. He looked back to the the mass of tangled steel and wood that had once been his train, but he couldn’t care less about the condition of his train and its cargo. He needed to find Iron Sides. In the distance through the fog, he could just barely see the now badly bent signal that he had passed just before throwing Iron Sides from the cab. 

With a mark to shoot for, he began to drag himself towards the broken signal. The going was extremely slow, but my Dad was a stallion on what he probably knew was going to be his final mission. He needed to make sure Iron Sides was at least alive. After what must have felt like hours, with his strength starting to run out, the signal post was in sight. As he continued to slowly pull himself towards it, he heard a very faint groan. 

He looked around, trying to find where it came from. It then came again, just as faint, but my dad was able to detect where it had come from. It had come from behind a rolled and crushed box car just in front of him. His determination renewed, my Dad began to pull himself towards the box car. After what must have felt like an eternity, he reached the box car. He looked around the end, and found the stallion he was looking for. There, underneath one of the box cars disembodied bogies, was Iron Sides. 

He wasn’t doing too much better than my Dad though. The bogie sitting on top of him was crushing his rib cage, and by the sound of it, he was barely able to breath. My Dad could hear that Iron Sides’ breathing was getting shallower and shallower, as the bogie kept putting hundreds of pounds of pressure on the stallion’s injured lungs, slowly choking him. 

My Dad knew, that he had to do something, or Iron Sides was going to suffocate thanks to the chunk of metal. My Dad was starting to feel faint, thanks to the blood lose from his shredded back. But, he had to do something, he had to save Iron Sides. With what little strength he had left, he pulled himself over to the bogie that sat on top of his fire stallion. 

But, even after reaching it, he realized there wasn’t much he could do. Even if he had been at full strength, he would have been all but helpless in trying to move the heavy bogie. In the state he was in, it was basically hopeless. “N-no, I-I ha’e to do somet-ing.” He stuttered out. His injuries were starting to take a heavy toll on him, and what was left of his strength was nearly gone. He looked at the box car that the bogie had once been attached to, noticing that the gap between the back of the bogie and the bottom of the car was perfectly spaced for somepony to slide into. 

Even with his strength nearly completely drained, and his ability to keep moving quickly fading, he pulled himself towards the back of the bogie. He slid himself between the bogie and the bottom of the car, and then pushed himself up and rested what was left of his back against the car bottom. He leaned forward, and put all of what was left of his strength against it, trying to push it over and off his friend and fire stallion. But, just as he feared, it didn’t budge. He just had nothing left to give. “No, n-no. I can’t leave h-im like this.” He put his hooves against the bogie again, and began to push again. 

Even when his strength died, he didn’t stop. He kept putting all of his weight against the bogie, and to his surprise, it started to lean. Encouraged by this, he kept putting everything he had left against the bogie. Even as he felt his broken ribs coming in contact with things they shouldn’t have, and he felt something in his back pop, he didn’t stop. The bogie continued to tip further and further, and then finally, with one last heave of strength he shouldn’t have had left, he pushed the bogie over and off of Iron Sides. 

My Dad heaved in air through his now badly damaged lungs, before collapsing next to the stallion he just saved. He heard Iron Sides sucking in the air that he had been so desperately in need of, and now could finally get. It was then my Dad learned that Iron Sides was actually still conscious, as he turned his head to look at his savior, “B-brick, that you?” he wheezed. 

My Dad, his strength now completely gone, couldn’t even raise his head, “Y-yeah S-Sides, i-i-t’s m-m-m-me.” he barely got out. Iron Sides was quickly able to realize that Brick Arch was not long for the world. “Come on B-Brick’s, s-stay with me.” 

With the last of the strength that was left in him, my Dad looked over to him and said his final words, “T-tell Sun and S-S-Stokes, t-t-that I l-l-love th-e-e-em.” With a few tear falling down his muzzle, my Dad closed his eyes for the last time. His breathing got slower, and shallower, before he took his final, weak breath, and moved no more. 

My Dad, was gone. 

Iron Sides rolled over, not caring about the pain that came for his crushed ribs, holding my Dad’s unmoving body, and cried. It was then, Super Heat, Rusted Shovel, and my Dad’s brake pony, Dog House, who had finally been able to make it up from #2718’s caboose, found the wrecked engine’s crew. Dog House took one look at the two and took charge, “You two, get up to Semaphore’s box and get the recovery train up here now!” 

The two ponies didn’t argue, shocked by the consequences of their actions, and took off up the hill. Dog House quickly made his way over to his fellow crew members and squatted down next to Iron Sides, “Don’t worry Sides, the recovery team should be here soon.” But still, Iron Sides wept, “It’s too late for Brick Arch!” He cried. 

That’s when Dog House took notice of Brick Arch’s stillness, and shed a tear himself. They had just lost one of their own, one of their best.

It would be just over half an hour before the recovery train showed up on scene. By then the fog was all but gone, allowing them to see the scale of the wreck. While the hit had come at only 25 mph, the lightweight of #2718’s train had caused a massive spread over both the southbound track, and the side of the mountain. Several of the ponies on the train rushed to the epicenter of the wreck to find the crew. 

They were soon able to discover the three crew members they’d been looking for. The only one of them that was still conscious was Dog House, who was watching over Iron Sides, who had grown much weaker and had fallen unconscious. “Are you three alright?” One of them asked as they made their way over. Dog house turned his red eyes towards his rescue, tears long shed and dried, and said only one thing, “No.” 

It was not long before the rest of the recovery train’s crew learned the hard truth, my Dad Brick Arch, was dead. 

The ponies in charge of the remaining injured crew quickly loaded them into the hospital coach, and then went about the task of recouvering my Dad. The mood on the journey back to Vanhoover was extremely upsetting, as all those who knew my Dad had one thought on their minds, what were they gonna tell me and my Mom. 

Back in Tall Tale, Ditchlight, Bulkhead, and High Ball were all gathered in High Ball’s office. They had gotten word about the wreck from the Vanhoover when the call for the recovery train was given. “So, do we have any word on what trains collided?” Bulkhead asked. 

High Ball nodded, “Yes, the coal train was #2573, and the train that had been behind it was #2718.” That caught both Ditchlight’s and Bulkhead’s attention, “Wait a second, #2718? Brick Arch and Iron Sides were involved in this?” Ditchlight asked. High Ball nodded, “Yes, unfortunately. But we haven’t gotten any word from the recovery train yet about their condition. So it is entirely possible that they are fine.” 

Bulkhead sighed, “I sure hope so. The last thing that I want to do is tell four foals that their dads aren’t coming home ever again.” Both Ditchlight and High Ball nodded their agreement. It was then that the door to High Ball’s office opened, and his secretary poked her head in, “Sir, a telegram from Vanhoover just came in with information on the wreck.” “Ah, thank you Miss Quick Quill.” The unicorn mare nodded as she levitated the telegram over to the desk the three stallions were sat around, before leaving the office. 

“Well, go on High Ball, what’s the news?” “Give me a moment.” He said as he read over the long telegram. Once he finished, he set the piece of paper down with a sigh, “Well, there’s good news and bad news. The good news is that Dog House and Iron Sides are alright, though Iron Sides is in very critical condition. They were also able to locate #2573’s brake stallion, Ceased Bearing. He’s also in critical condition, but both him and Iron Sides are expected to survive.” The other two stallions sighed in relief, until Bulkhead noticed the one name that had been left out of the list, “Wait a second, what about Brick Arch.” 

High Ball’s face fell, “They found him next to Iron Sides. He was, unresponsive.” Both Ditchlight’s and Bulkhead’s faces fell, they knew what High Ball meant by unresponsive. “According to what Iron Sides told Dog House, who then informed the rescue crew, Brick Arch was able to save his life by pushing a bogie that was on top of him off. From what the examiners said, he was paralyzed in the wreck. He injured himself worse when tipping over the bogie, and that’s what seems to have claimed his life. Even if he hadn't, they doubt he would have lasted long enough for the recovery train to get to them” 

The three hung their heads, before Ditchlight stood up, “Come on, the least we can do is personally deliver the news to his family.” The others nodded in agreement and stood to carry out their sorrowful deed. 

I groaned under my breath as I sat in my sixth period Equis class. I was struggling to stay awake as my teacher droned on and on about ancient Equis poetry. I looked over to Coal Dust, who looked just as bored. Then, our school’s Vice Principal opened the classroom door, turning to look right at me, “Fire Stoker, I need you to come with me please.” I looked over to Coal Dust, who mouthed, ’What did you do?’ I mouthed back ’I don’t know’ before getting up and walking over to the door, where the Vice Principal motioned for me to follow her. 

As we walked down to the office, I said nothing, as I was too busy trying to figure out what I had done. I had had my fair share of run ins with the school's office, but I just could not think of something that I had done recently that would get me sent down again. As we walked into the office, she motioned me into the principal's office. I kept my head low as I walked in, but as the door behind me closed, I looked up to find to my surprise, my Mom, Ditchlight, Bulkhead, and High Ball there along with my principle. 

I looked to my Mom, surprised to see that she looked like she had been crying. “Mom, Ditchlight, Bulkhead, High Ball, what’s going on?” Bulkhead was the first to speak, “Son, there was an accident on The Grade today. One of the trains involved was your dad’s.” This was a shock to me, “Is he alright!” I asked in shock. 

That’s when my Mom got up and walked over to me, “Stokes, your, your Dad didn’t make it.” 

I’ll never forget those words, the words that forever changed my life. 

I couldn’t believe it, but my Mom was not one to lie to me, so I knew that she was telling the truth. I didn’t want to accept it, who would want to accept that their Father was dead? But I couldn’t just deny reality. However, my next question was not the one they expected, “What about Iron Sides?” High Ball then spoke, “He’s in critical condition, but he should pull through.” 

I tried to bring a smile to my face, “Well that’s good, he’s got three foals to look after still.” I stood there for a moment, before I finally broke down. No pony said anything, as my Mother held me and teared up as well. 

News of my Father’s passing quickly spread around both Tall Tale and Vanhoover. Everypony was shocked by the news, as my Father was held up much like his Father was as one of the line’s best engineer’s. To hear that he had met his maker in what many saw as a preventable wreck, was heart breaking for to say the least. 

Thankfully, no pony held hate towards Super Heat or Rusted Shovel for their part of the wreck. Being as new as they were to not only the line, but The Olde Grade itself, it was seen as inevitable that the fog and steep grade would cause them to stall. No pony really placed blame for the accident at any one pony, since it was a series of critical events that caused the wreck, leaving no one pony completely at fault. 

In fact, the only pony who placed any sort of blame on any pony was Semaphore, who felt that the death of his friend was his fault. With the funeral delayed until Iron Sides had recovered enough to attend at the insistence of both me and my Mom, I made it a point to track down Semaphore. That was easier said than done though, as Semaphore lived in Vanhoover, and it’s not exactly easy to get there when you’re a 13 year old with little money. 

But, I took a play out of Hot Box’s old book and hopped a train that was heading over The Grade two days after the wreck. I hopped onto the back of the caboose, where I sat at the back railing for a while and thought about everything that had been going through my mind the past few days. The true weight of the fact that my Dad was gone hadn’t hit me until later the night of the wreck. 

Sitting at the table with my Mom, staring at the empty seat that would never be filled again had really driven the fact home that my dad was gone. That was one of the worst sleepless nights of my life. I was broken out of my thoughts by the sound of the caboose door opening. “Hey Fire Stoker.” I turned around to see the brake pony, surprised to find that it was Dog House. 

“Dog House? What are you doing here?” Dog House chuckled, “I’m working obviously. Come on, it's more comfortable in here than out on the railing.” I nodded and followed him back into the caboose. I sat down on one of the benches inside, and Dog House sat on one across from me. 

“What are you doing jumping trains again?” “I’m heading to Vanhoover to talk with Semaphore. Word has it that he’s blaming himself for the wreck, so I’m gonna talk some sense into him.” “Ah yes, I’ve heard the same. A couple ponies have tried to do the same, but I think hearing it from you is gonna mean a lot more.” I nodded, “That’s the hope.” 

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, before Dog House asked the question I had heard several times already, “How you holding up Stokes?” I sighed and looked down at the floor, “I, I really don’t know. Two days ago my life was normal, all I had to worry about was passing school and not hurting myself in practice. Then I watched my Dad walk out of my house and my life. One moment I’m learning about stupid poetry, the next I learn that I’m never gonna see my Dad again. But, at the same time, I know how dangerous his job can be, Dad and Hotbox made sure I understood that years ago. So it’s not entirely a surprise, I guess. I guess I really don’t know how to feel.” 

Dog House nodded, “I get it. I felt the same when my Dad had a real close call, but I was 20 back then, so it was a little easier for me. Personally, I think you should feel sad, and I don’t blame you. Losing a parent in any way is hard, I've heard enough from others around the line who have gone through the same thing. Many lost their parents in the early days of rail riding thanks to the shitty safety systems in place back then. But at the same time, I think you should feel proud of who your Dad was. He worked hard and built a great life for you, your Mom, and himself, and in his last moments he saved Iron Sides. Your Dad went out doing what he did best, working hard and being his caring self.” 

That made me think, “So look at the good he did, instead of the fact that he’s gone?” Dog House nodded, “That’s what I’m sayin’. I’ve heard from a lot of the others who have gone through the same thing that it helps a lot with coming to terms with everything.” I sat there and thought over his words, in my mind he had a point. Sure, I was still sad that my Dad was gone, but I could still honor him and who he was. “You know, I like the sound of that.” 

Dog House smiled, and nodded, glad to see that he had at least somewhat helped me come to grips with everything. We chatted for most of the run, until I felt the train dip down onto Nightmare. I looked over to Dog House, who took notice of the look in my eyes. He switched over to my bench, and we both looked out the window. He knew what I was worried about seeing, and wasn’t going to leave me, quote unquote, alone. 

Soon enough, we came across what was left of the evidence of the wreck. The signal post was still bent, many of the ties on both tracks were gouged from the derailed cars, gravel and dirt were messed up, and in many places there were still chunks of wood that had come from the destroyed box cars. “So, that’s where it happened huh?” I asked. Dog House nodded solemnly, “Yes, yes it was.” he said, laying a hoof over my shoulders and pulling me closer for moral support.

The rest of the run was drowned in silence. 

When the train came to a stop in Vanhoover, I got up and walked over to the caboose door, not saying a word. As I opened the door, I heard Dog House speak up from behind me, “Hey kid, good luck with Semaphore.” I looked back and nodded at him, “Thanks Dog House.” With that, I stepped off the caboose and walked towards the yard master’s office. 

I walked in, much to the surprise of Yard Goat, “What the, Fire Stoker? How did you get here?” I smiled slightly guilty, “I caught a ride.” Yard Goat rolled his eyes and cracked a knowing smile, “You jumped a train again, didn’t you?” I nodded, still slightly guilty. 

“Oh course. Well, what can I do for you?” “I need to know where Semaphore lives.” I replied. Yard Goat gave me a quizzical look, “Why?” I gave him a straight look, “I heard that he’s blaming himself for my Dad’s wreck. I’m gonna go talk some sense into him.” A solemn look crossed Yard Goat’s face, “He has been. I’ve heard that he’s thinking about quitting the railway. I don’t want to see one of my better signal ponies go because of this. He lives in bunk house 2, room 7.” 

I nodded my thanks, that turned to leave, before I heard him speak up behind me much like Dog House did, “Hey Stokes, I’m sorry about what happened to your Dad. I really shouldn’t have let him leave the yard, and for that, I’m forever sorry.” I turned and gave him a small smile, “It’s alright Yard Goat. I don’t blame you just like I don’t blame Semaphore. None of you could have known, so don’t blame yourself.” Yard Goat cracked a small smile, “Thank you Fire Stoker, that really means a lot. Good luck.” I smiled and nodded again, before making my way towards the bunk houses. 

It didn’t take me long to find myself at room 7 of Vanhoover bunkhouse 2. I took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. ”Guys, I told you, I just wanna be left alone.” I gulped for some reason, and then found my voice, “Sem, it’s Fire Stoker. I just wanna talk.” There was a long pause, before I heard long slow hoof steps heading towards the door. I heard it unlock, and then it opened, revealing a tearful Semaphore.

He knelt down and wrapped me in a strong hug, “Fire Stoker, I’m so, so sorry. This is all my fault. I could have done more, I, I should have acted earlier.” “Sem, stop, please.” Semaphore, surprised, looked at me. 

I pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes, “Semaphore, I don’t blame you for what happened, neither does my Mom. You were working with what you had, in terrible conditions, and you did the best you could.” “But I didn’t! I waited too long to set the signals to red!” He yelled back, his emotions taking over. “You did the best you could Sem. There was no way you could have known what was going to happen. It was all just, bad luck.” 

Semaphore turned back towards his bunk, “Bad luck? Luck has no position on a railroad Stokes. There’s only actions, and actions not taken.” He said solemnly, hanging his head. I walked up to him and put a hoof on his shoulder, “Sem, please look at this like everyone else. The only pony blaming you, is you. Ditchlight isn’t, Bulkhead isn’t, High Ball isn’t, the other ponies on the railway aren’t, my Mom isn’t, and most importantly I’m not. I’m devastated by the fact that my Dad is gone, but I’ve been around the railway long enough to know how dangerous railway life is. It just takes one wrong move to turn a bad situation deadly.” “That’s what I’ve been.” Semaphore tried to interrupt. 

But I continued, “But, from everything I’ve heard, there were several wrong moves that lead to the accident. Yours were the least drastic of all. You didn’t know where either train was, you didn’t know how close they were together, there was nothing truly in your power that you could have done to stop this from happening. Please, don’t stop doing what you love because of this. Please.” Semaphore didn’t say anything for a moment, before he finally turned back to look at me, “Alright Stokes. I, I won’t.” I cracked a small smile, “Thank you Sem, you’ll see what I’m talking about in the days to come. I’m sure of it.” 

I turned to leave, but I looked back at Semaphore one last time, “You’re gonna come to the funeral right?” Sem put on a small smile, “You can count on it.” My smile grew, I nodded, and then walked away, happy with what I had done. 

It would be a little over three weeks before Iron Sides could leave the hospital. All the ribs on his left side had been crushed and had gotten replaced by metal ones, as they were deemed too damaged to be saved. When he was finally allowed to leave, albeit, not able to walk yet, the plans we had been putting together for my dad’s funeral were set in motion. So, four days after Iron Sides was allowed to leave his hospital bed, the whole town and many from Vanhoover lined the grounds of the small cemetery in Tall Tale. 

I won’t go too deep into the services themselves, anyone who has been to a funeral will know what it was like. Everypony was there as I said, everyone who worked for the railway including Bulk, Ditch, and High Ball, along with the whole town, as I said. At the front of the crowd were me, my Mom, my Grandmother, and of course, Iron Sides and Semaphore. 

My Mom’s parents weren’t in attendance, as sadly they had both past away when they were both relatively young due to different types of cancer, may they rest in peace. 

It was one of the most solemn days the town had ever seen. After tear filled words had been said, and my Dad had been laid to rest, the collection of ponies made their way to the rail yard where a train was waiting. The procession filed into the numerable passenger coaches, while myself, my Mom, and Iron Sides climbed into the cab of #2573, which was at the head of the train. 

Super Heat and Rusted Shovel were not in charge of the locomotive that day. Though they had not been fired from the railway because Ditchlight, Bulkhead, and High Ball didn’t feel that they were completely at fault for the wreck, they had turned down the offer to be in charge of the funeral train. Instead, the crew in charge of the train were Brake Check and Funnel Flare, as they were close family friends. 

The train had been Bulkhead’s idea, and our destination was the wreck sight. It was a long journey, filled with silence, but finally, the train came to a stop next to the still bent signal at mile marker 36. The ponies streamed out of the passenger cars, where they stood by one of the last remaining pieces of evidence of the wreck. Bulk, Ditch, and High Ball cut through the crowd towards the signal, Ditch carrying a wooden cross that had been made out of planks from the box car who’s bogie had crushed Iron Sides ribs, and the one my Dad had past away next to. 

With a hammer provided by Bulkhead, the cross was hammered into the ground. Carved into the horizontal plank were the words, Brick Arch, Father, Friend, Engineer, May He Rest In Peace. Once the cross was in place, the three railway owners backed away, as members of the crowd placed mementos of my Dad at the base of the cross, or hung them from it. 

Me and my Mom placed his spare engineer’s cap on the vertical plank, Iron Sides left the remains of his shovel he had been using that fateful day, so on and so forth. By the time everypony had their moment, the base of the cross looked like the a sorrowful Hearts Warming tree. 

As I stood back and looked at the cross, my friends came up on either side of me. Coal Dust was the first to speak, “How you doing Stokes?” I held back my tears as best I could, it was one thing to hear my Dad was gone, but laying him to rest hit me just as hard as first hearing the news, “I’m holding up.” I was able to mutter. 

I lasted a few more seconds, before I cracked and cried. My friends were quick to surround me with support, and I’m thankful to them for that. We all stood there for a while, not saying anything, until Blow Torch spoke, “We’re here for ya Stokes.” “Thank you.” I said, trying to dry my tears. “Hey, we’re family Stokes, that means we stick together, no matter what.” Crankshaft said. 

Ash Pan nodded, “Yeah, we just gotta watch each other's backs now, and when we start working for the line.” I whipped my face, “Yeah, yeah you guys are right. We just gotta stick together, always.” For the rest of the time we were at the wreck sight, I was surrounded by my friends and the support they offered. 

A lot of things changed that day, for me, my friends, my family, and the line. Bulk, Ditch, and High Ball were quick to completely overhaul the signaling system along the line. They took advantage of a new safety system that had been in development, that signaled to the ponies in the signal boxes what signals a train had past, by setting off a lever hooked to the signaling lever. 

A signal pony would then be forced to reset this lever, which was only doable by turning the tripped signal to red. This would then lock the signal to red until the train had passed two more, which was the safety distance the owners had always been trying to keep enforced. 

This system worked well, and until the Canterlot owners took over the line, there would not be another fatal incident. As for the cross depicting the loss of my Dad, it’s still there to this day. I haven’t brought this up until now because, as you can guess, it’s still a hard subject for me to talk about, even over ten years later. 

The biggest changes however, were among me and my friends. We grew a lot closer through everything, and we kept a closer eye on each other, even more so when we started working for the railway. 

Even with the loss of him at such a young age, my Dad was still a big part of the life I lived, before and after the wreck, and because of that, I’ll never forget him.
> Chapter 7: A Friend In Need
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was running over the telegram in my mind as me and Coal Dust walked through the small town of Ponyville. The idea of sleeping had gone completely out the window after we had read the warning from Files. So with nothing better to do, we decided to make the trip to the farm Dusty’s friend Big Mac lived on. 

We had chosen to not take the way through town, as that would have brought us past the castle of Princess Twilight Sparkle, and being close to any place that might have royal guards was not something I wanted to do until I had the telegram situation figured out. After walking around the main part of town, we found ourselves amongst row apon row of apple trees, with a small farmhouse and barn sitting in the center of the fields. 

“Damn, this place hasn’t changed a bit.” Dusty said as we walked under a big white sign that read ‘Sweet Apple Acres’. “Oh, I’ve heard of this place. My mom swears by their apples. I didn’t know you knew that family that ran this place.” I said as we walked towards the house. “You never asked.” Coal Dust said in a very Coal Dust way. But, just before we hit the porch of the white farmhouse, we heard the sound of hooves connecting with a tree. “Huh, I didn’t think they’d be harvesting by now.” Coal Dust said as he started to walk away from the house, and off towards the fields past the barn. 

With no better option, as I didn’t know these ponies and didn’t want to be seen as some sort of creep or something, I followed after him. We walked through the rows of trees for a few seconds, before we came to a smaller clearing where there was an orange and blond maned mare with a stetson covering her head, bucking the trees and relinquishing them of their red fruits. 

Coal Dust smiled, “Hey Applejack, it’s been years!” The mare stopped her work and turned towards the two of us. She looked at me for a second, before looking over at Coal Dust. She stared at him for a little longer, before a look of recognition dawned on her, “Coal Dust? Ah haven’t seen ya since Ah was a foal.” She said as she started walking over to us. 

Coal Dust let his smile grow wider, “I’m actually surprised you remember me. You were only like 8 or 9 when I left town.” Applejack cracked a smirk when she got over to us, “Like Ah could forget mah brother’s best friend that he always got in trouble with.” Coal Dust laughed, “Fair point. Speaking of Big mac, where is he?” “He should be back at the barn stackin hay. Come on, Ah need to go get more apple baskets anyways.”  

The three of us started walking back towards the farm proper. As we got closer, a rust brown stallion with a grease black mane walked out of the farmhouse and looked over towards us, “Oh AJ, I was just coming to bring you those apple baskets. Wait, who’s that with you?” 

Dusty cracked another smile, “What’s up Ratchet!” He yelled from the tree line we were just walking out of. Ratchet looked shocked, “Holy crap, Coal Dust!” Ratchet ran over, and tried to tackle Coal Dust, but with a few quick moves from Dusty, he found himself on the ground. “Even after all these years, still too slow Ratch.” Ratchet laughed as he picked himself up off the ground, “Yeah, I guess so. What are you doing back in town Dusty?” 

“It’s a bit of a long story, but before I get into that, let me introduce you to my friend here. Ratchet, this is Fire Stoker, he’s one of the colts I started getting in trouble with back in Tall Tale.” Both Applejack and Ratchet turned to look at me when Coal Dust mentioned my name. “Wait a second, Fire Stoker? As in the one that’s been in the news lately?” 

I groaned internally at Ratchet’s mention of the news, “Yes, that Fire Stoker.” I said with annoyance. Applejack held up one of her hooves, “Woah, easy there partner. He ain’t tryin to blame you for nothin. Ponies out here aren’t quick to make judgments about ponies on what the papers say. Not after the last time.” Choosing not to question what she meant by “last time”, I breathed a sigh of relief, “That’s good to hear. Sorry but my life for the last month has been based around ponies making judgments about me based on what the papers say.” 

Ratchet smiled, “Well, with that cleared up, I’m gonna go get Mac. He’s gonna be over the moon to see that Dusty her is back in town.” Ratchet then trotted over to the barn, “Mac! Leave the hay alone for a second and come here!” There was a moment’s pause before a red and orange head popped out of the barn door., “What is it Ratch.” Ratchet then pointed over towards us, “Look who’s back in town.” Coal Dust waved, “What’s up Mac.” Mac caught sight of him, and cracked a smirk behind the stalk of wheat he had hanging from his lip, and walked out of the barn. 

It was at that moment I understood why he was called Big Mac. Blow Torch was the biggest stallion I had ever know up to that point, and Mac was even bigger than him, and stronger by the looks of it. All I knew was, I did not want to be on his bad side, cause I felt like I’d get my head popped. The massive stallion walked over to us, “Well, been a while Dusty. Good to see you again.” Dusty smiled as he looked up at his friend, “Damn Mac, I always knew you’d grow up big, but I wasn’t expecting this.” 

The big red stallion laughed, “Ah get that a lot. Who’s your friend here?” “Mac, this is Fire Stoker. Fire Stoker, this is Big Macintosh, Applejack’s brother, and one of the best ponies I got to know before moving out to Tall Tale.” I held my breath for a second, hoping this stallion had the same feelings towards the news that his sister did. But, Mac just smiled and held out a hoof, “Nice to meet ya.” I sighed in relief and shook his hoof, “Same to you.” As he let go of my hoof, he turned to look at Coal Dust, “Come on in the house, we can catch up a bit.” 

Coal Dust smiled, “Sounds good to me, come on Stokes.” I nodded, and the three of us walked into the farmhouse. It was a small place, built completely out of wood, but it reminded me a lot of many homes back in Tall Tale, so I felt right at home. No pun intended. The three of us sat down at the small kitchen table, “So what have you been up to Dusty?” Mac asked. “Oh nothing much, just working hard on the railway. Nearly got killed once or twice, but that’s rail life for you.” 

“So Ah’ve heard. You and Fire Stoker here have been all the papers have been talkin ‘bout.” That’s when I decided to speak up, “That’s actually part of the reason why we ended up here. We got lucky with a train switch up, and got sent on a run out here. And we’re probably gonna be out here for a while.” Mac raised an eyebrow to that, “Oh, and why’s that?” 

Coal dust rolled his eyes, “It’s a long story full of bullshit. Go ahead and show him the telegram Stokes.” That shocked me, and I turned to him, “What, why?” Coal Dust waved a hoof, “Go on Stokes. Let him read it.” I was dumbfounded. Dusty may have known Big Mac for a long time before this, but I had literally just shown up in town out of nowhere with a press trail 130 miles long, and I was about to hoof this stallion I barely knew a telegram that basically said I was on the run from the Royal Guard on a murder charge. 

But, after a lot of hesitation, I finally reached down into one of the pockets in my denims and pulled out the telegram, and slid it across the table to Mac. I held my breath a bit as Mac read over the telegram, waiting for him to reach across the table and try to strangle me or something. But, all he did when he finished reading was hum, “Hmm, so you got yourself in a bit of trouble with the Royal Guard huh? I’m actually kinda impressed Dusty. Worst you ever did back in the day was piss off the Sheriff's deputy.”

I was stunned by Big Mac’s shrugging off something I would consider at least somewhat suspicious, Coal Dust scoffed, “We didn’t do anything worthy of rustled Guard jimmies.” “According to them you did.” 

I finally found my voice again, “But we really didn’t. We were just doing our jobs, and got caught up in some really bad luck.” Coal Dust nodded, “Exactly. Anyways Mac, since you always seemed to find a way to talk the group out of trouble, you got any ideas on how to help us out here.” Mac grinned, “I think I know just the pony, or AJ knows just the pony to be exact.”

Mac then got up and walked back over to the front door and yelled from the porch, “AJ, leave Ratchet alone and come here for a second!” Dusty looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Oh is Ratchet messing around with your sister now!” “Shut your mouth or you get no help!” Dusty laughed and looked over at me, “That’s a yes.” 

Applejack came walking into the house, “Whatcha need Big Mac?” Mac walked back into the kitchen, grabbed the telegram off the table, and brought it back over to his sister, “Take a gander at this.” Now I was worried all over again, Applejack said she didn’t judge based on the news, but Royal Guard searches, that’s a different story. 

The look AJ gave me made me think my fears were correct, “You two are running from the Guard for murder!” I held up my hooves in some sort of defense, “Wait, let me explain. We didn’t do anything. We fell over a bridge and the rest of the train ran away. Somepony is just looking for a scapegoat!” I sat there, waiting for Applejack to charge at me or something, but instead, the look of anger washed from here face and she smiled, “Well, if that’s the case, we need to get you some help.” 

She then turned and walked towards the front door, “Come on, we’ll go see Twilight and get this all cleared up.” I stared at her, “Wait, as in Princess Twilight? We can’t just go walking in to Princess Twilight’s castle!” Applejack laughed, “What’re you talking about, me and the girls do that all the other time.” Dusty cocked an eyebrow at her, “How are you on such good terms with the Princess?” 

Applejack waved a hoof, “Oh me and the girls have been best friends with Twi since that Nightmare Moon hooie.” I tried to wrap my head around what AJ had just said, when something clicked, “Wait a second, are you one of the Elements of Harmony?” It was a long shot, but it was the only thing that made sense to me. Applejack smiled and nodded, “Yep, Ah became the Element of Honesty. That how I could tell you weren’t trying to talk your way out of this Royal Guard trouble.” 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Everypony in Equestria knew what the Elements of Harmony were, and all the heroic actions they had performed. But, the crown had done their best to keep the names and images of the Elements out of the public, so that the six ponies could live a normal life as best they could. The only name the general public ever properly learned was Twilight Sparkle, after she became an alicorn, which kind of made sense since she was kinda a princess and couldn’t really hide from the public anymore. The others however, had mostly stayed unknown. 

I looked over to Coal Dust, “Dusty, why didn’t you tell me that the sister of one of your best friends was an Element of Harmony?!?” Dusty turned to me, “How the hell was I supposed to know, I haven’t seen them in over a decade! And that Elements of Harmony stuff only happened like five years ago!” Our argument was interrupted by the laughing of both Applejack and Big Mac, “Alright you two, enough bickering. Let’s go get you two out of trouble.” AJ said as she opened the front door. 

Me and Dust both stood and went to follow after her. “Guess we’ll have to finish catching up later Mac.” Dusty said as he walked past the red stallion. Mac chuckled, “That’s fine Dusty. By the sound of it, you have more important things to worry about. Ah’m sure we can catch up over the next few days, as it seems like you won’t be leavin’ for awhile.” Dusty smiled, “Sounds good to me Mac.” And with that, we walked out of the house. 

As we walked up the road leading to town, Coal Dust looked over to Applejack, “Where’s Granny and little Apple Bloom?” “Oh, they’re in town getting some ingredients for dinner tonight. You and Fire Stoker over there can stay for food if ya want. Not gonna leave a friend with an empty stomach or no roof over their head.” Coal Dust smiled, “Thanks AJ, I think we just might take you up on that.” The rest of the walk into town was mostly filled with small talk between AJ and Dusty as they caught up on time gone by. 

I however, stayed quite at the back, still worried about the fact that I was about to walk into a Royal residence while wanted by the Royal Guard. But, as we walked through the town of Ponyville proper, my nerves started to fade. Everypony around me, despite the fact I was a complete stranger, smiled and waved a friendly hello, it reminded me a lot of Tall Tale. And being somewhere that reminded me so much of home helped calm my nerves a little. 

As the top of the crystal castle came into view, a colt came running over to me. I noticed that he was one of the ones that had been standing by the tracks when we rolled in with 9413 and 9414. The white and brown colt looked up to me as we kept walking, “Excuse me mister, are you a railway worker?” He asked with a thick Braytish accent. 

I smiled down at him, “Why yes I am, I’m an engine driver. Weren’t you one of those colts standing by the tracks when I came in earlier?” The colt’s face lit up, “You were one of the ponies in those massive engines that came in?” I smiled back, “Yeah, I was in the lead engine.” “What are those things? Their bloody huge!” “Those, were two engines of a class build to deal with the big grades in the Smokey Mountains. They’re extremely powerful, and take a lot of practice to learn how to drive properly.” 

The colt stared at me wide eyed like I was the newest alicorn, “So, you’re like a really good engine driver?” I smiled down to him, “According to some of my friends back home, I’m one of the best.” “Wow, I wish I could become that good one day.” “So you want to be an engine driver one day?” The colt nodded, “One day maybe. I just love watching engine pull into the yard. They always seem so big and powerful.”

I nodded with a grin, this colt reminded me a lot of myself back when I was young, “Well, uh.” “Pipsqueak, but my friends call me Pip.” “Ah, well Pip, being an engineer can be a fun job, but it’s also dangerous. Things can go wrong, but, the best way to avoid that is to hold respect for the machines you work with. Treat them like a Canterlot mare, and you’ll never have one get angry with you.” 

Pip looked at me curiously, and I couldn’t help but chuckle, “I know it sounds weird, but trust me, it works. I’ve been running locomotives through the hills of the Smokeys for nearly ten years now, one of the hardest lines in the nation, and I’ve nearly never had a problem. If you respect your machine, it’ll respect you.” Pipsqueak smiled, “If you say so Mister.” I chuckled again, “Please, call me Stokes, I’ve never been no Mister.” The colt nodded, before Coal Dust yelled from ahead of me, “Come on Stokes, we’re here!” I nodded, “Alright Pip, I gotta go take care of some things with the Princess, and my friend. Have a good one, and keep what I said in mind.” “I will, have a good day Mister Stokes.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at that, before I turned and looked up at the crystal castle I was now standing in front of. 

Pip had helped me forget about me nerves, but now that I was standing in front of the castle, they came rushing back. Nothing was said as he climbed the steps to the door, which were unguarded, which I found strange. As we got to the doors, AJ knocked as if she was just knocking on the door of a friend’s house. There was a moment pause, before one of the doors swung open. I expected to be greeted by an armored guard, but instead the figure standing in the door was a small dragon, about half my height. I didn’t know whether to be relieved, or more scared. 

“Oh hey AJ, what can I do for you, and your two friends?” The little dragon spoke. That blew my mind, the dragon just spoke. I didn’t even know that was possible. “Spike, we need to talk with Twilight. Is she busy?” The dragon, Spike, shook his head, “Not really, she’s just looking into some paperwork Celestia sent her. Come on, she’s in the map room.” ‘Map room?’ I mouthed, confused. But despite my confusion, I followed after Applejack and Coal Dust, and walked into the castle. 

I looked around in awe as we walked through the massive hallways of the castle. I had never seen such a massive building before, and I worked on a railway with some of the biggest commercial structures in the nation. At the end of the hallway we were in was a set of double doors, one of which was swung open. As we walked up, Spike called inside, “Twi, AJ and a couple of stallions are here to see you!” “Oh, alright. Let them in!” A mare’s voice called from inside the room. I gulped, this was the point of no return. Applejack nodded to the small dragon, “Thank ya kindly Spike. I can take care of things from here.” Spike nodded back, “Alright AJ.” He said, before he turned and walked away. 

With nothing left between me and my fate, I set my resolve, and followed Applejack and Dusty through the door. And there she was, sitting in her throne, surrounded by six others in front of a large crystal table, was Princess Twilight Sparkle. She pushed some papers she was working on aside as she looked up when we walked in, “Hey Applejack, who are your friends here?” Applejack smiled, “Twi, this is Coal Dust, an old friend of Mac’s from his school days. And this his friend and co-worker from up North, Fire Stoker.” 

My heart stopped, I knew my name was going to come up at some point, but having AJ just come out and say it within ten seconds of me meeting one of the princesses who’s Royal Guards were now tracking me down made my nerves go haywire. Of course, my nerves were not calmed in any way when Princess Twilight’s gaze was directed straight at me, “Wait a second, you wouldn’t happen to be the Fire Stoker who has been in the news lately for those railroad accidents?” 

I gulped, of course she knew who I was. It was at this point I realized that I had basically done nothing since I walked into the throne room, so I quickly bowed before responding, “Um, uh yes that’s me your highness.” I was able to stutter out, before I braced myself to here a call for the guards, that I surprisingly still hadn’t seen, to come drag me away to the dungeon. Instead, I heard both Applejack and Princess Twilight laugh. Princess Twilight, was laughing, at me. 

Before I could let my brain run away with ideas on what that could mean, Applejack spoke up, “Oh pick yourself up Fire Stoker. Twi here still don’t like ponies scraping and bowing at her.” Confused by the fact I wasn’t getting attacked by guards, I picked myself up off the castle floor, but I had to ask the question, “Wait, I’m not going to get dragged off by the Guards to the dungeons or something?” 

The look of confusion that crossed Twilight’s face would have been priceless if the situation had been different. “What are you talking about? I just meet you, why would I have you taken to a dungeon I don’t have with guards that aren’t here.” I couldn’t help but stare at her in utter confusion, but thankfully Applejack stepped in to explain, “That’s why we’re here Twilight. Some pony’s got the guard out hunting these fellers down because of that accident where that pony from the Crystal Empire died.” 

As my brain was still trying to reboot, Coal Dust walked up and gave the Princess the telegram Files had sent. Princess Twilight read the telegram over, and gave it a quizzical look, “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would the Royal Guards be dispatched to something that should be handled by local police?” Twilight then lit her horn and summoned a fresh quill and piece of paper, “I’m going to write a letter to Celestia. If a squad of royal guards did get dispatched to Tall Tale, she can tell me why.” 

I just kept staring as my brain tried to catch up and understand everything that was going on. I wasn’t going to be thrown in a dungeon, there were no guards waiting around the corner to grab me, and Princess Twilight had no idea why guards had been sent to Tall Tale. By the time my brain had caught up with what was going on, Twilight had finished her letter to Princess Celestia, and sent it off in another burst of her magic. 

She then turned to look at me and Coal Dust again, “You know, I’ve been looking into railway operation ever since your story came out in the papers two weeks ago, and I just can’t seem to understand some things about what happened. From what I've read, your railway had a near spotless safety record, but now there seems to be a lot of accidents.” I smiled, “Well I can explain anything you want to know Princess, but we might be here awhile. There’s a lot to explain.” And so, over the next hour and a half, myself and Dusty laid out how the railway had gone from one of the best in the nation, to one of the worst. 

By the time we had finished up, we had basically given the abridged history of the Tall Tale Mountain Short Line. “I’m sorry to hear all of that Fire Stoker, but it does seem that there is something else going on here.” Twilight said. Dusty rolled his eyes, “Trust me, we figured that out a while back.” I reached over and smacked him, “Dusty, respect.” “What, it’s true.” Just then, Spike walked through the throne room door with a scroll in his claw, “Twilight, Celestia sent you a letter.” Twilight took the letter in her magic, “Thank you Spike.” Spike nodded, then turned and left again. 

“What did the Princess say Twi?” Applejack asked. ”Dear Twilight, I looked into the guards dispatched to Tall Tale, but found that there is no record of any guards being sent to the area. I even talked with many of the guard commanders and found that none of them knew what I was talking about. To find out what is going on, I have dispatched a group of my personal guards to find out what is going on. I will let you know what they find when they return. Celestia.”  “Well, this just makes things seem even stranger. At least Celestia is looking into it.” Twilight said as she put the letter down. 

“What did you write to her?” I asked. “I just said that an old friend of Applejack’s had wrote to her about the guards appearing in Tall Tale looking for somepony. I didn’t tell her about you two in case there was a good reason for the guards to be out there.” I nodded, “Well thank you for looking into this Princess Twilight. We have no idea what’s going on.” Twilight smiled, “It’s alright Fire Stoker, I’m happy to help. I’m also going to look into what’s been going on with your railway. There is definitely more going on behind the scenes.” 

“Thank you Princess, we really appreciate it, right Dusty?” “Oh yeah. It’d be nice if we could just go back to running trains and only partly worrying about dying on a run.” I laughed, “Yeah, gotta love the railways.” “Always.” Applejack and Twilight laughed, “Alright you two, it’s getting late and dinner should nearly be ready back at the farm. Thanks for all yer help Twilight.” Twilight smiled, “Not a problem Applejack. If I figure anything out for you two, I’ll be sure to let either you two or Applejack know.” Both me and Coal Dust nodded our thanks, before following Applejack back towards the farm. 

As we got back to the farm, we noticed Ratchet leaving the house dressed in a brown uniform. “Oh, hey AJ. I was hoping you would make it back before I went out.” “Where are you going Ratchet?” Coal Dust asked. “Oh yeah, I didn’t get to tell you before went to go talk with Twilight, I work for the sheriff’s office now.” I watched dusty try not to laugh, “Wait, you, work for the cops? How’d you manage that? I thought they would have turned you away, given the track record we had when we were young.” Ratchet laughed, “Yeah, well it’s a bit of a long story. I’ll have to tell you about it before you head home. But right now, I really gotta go. See you guys tomorrow.” With that, Ratchet walked off towards town. 

The rest of us made our way into the small farm house and then over to the kitchen, one of them being one of the fillies who had been watching us roll in earlier. Set out on the small table was a dinner full of apple related goods, and the rest of the Apple family sat around it. “Howdy Granny, Bloom.” Applejack said as she took her own seat, and motioned us over to two empty ones next to her. “Well look who found his way through the apple trees, I haven’t seen you since you were a wee youngin Coal Dust.” Granny Smith said as she was able to recognize the colt. Coal Dust laughed, “Nice to see you too Granny.” 

He then turned to the youngest of the Apple clan, “And it’s nice to see you all grown up Apple Bloom. Last time I got to see you was when you were still in diapers.” The rest of the family laughed as Apple Bloom blushed. “Don’t take it too hard Apple Bloom, I’m just messing with you.” “Ah know, Big Mac has told me some stories about you and some of his old friends and what y’all used to do.” 

Coal Dust them looked over to Mac as I dug into a stack of apple pancakes, “Speaking of friends, what happened to Mason? Didn’t see him around town.” Mac chuckled, “Ah’d be surprised if ya did, he went and joined up with the guards after we got out of school. Said he got into this new Air Force thing they’re cooking up. Haven’t seen him in a few years either.” “Grandad still live in town?” Mac nodded, “Ee’yup, he still lives in that little house he always has.” 

“Alright, quit yer yappin and eat. Y’all can talk after dinner.” Applejack said with a chuckle as she dug in herself. The two stallions laughed and did as they were told. Dinner wasn’t completely quiet, but it was mostly spent enjoying the fresh home cooked meal. The rest of the night was wasted away in conversation as Coal Dust caught up with his Apple family friends, and I got to know them and them me. 

That night, as I sat wrapped in a hoof made blanket on the couch of the farm house, I smiled. Despite still technically being on the run from the law, and banned from my home in a way, I felt happy. I had two of the Princess’s checking into things to figure things out for us, and by the looks of things, everything was just a mix up. I sighed as I closed my eyes, “I’m finally going to get to put this all behind me.” I said as I drifted off to sleep. 

I had no idea at the time about how wrong I really was.
> Chapter 8: Sour homecoming
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few days passed in a crawling blur, well, for me at least. While Coal Dust spent the time catching up with two of his childhood friends, I spent my days thinking about what my next move should be. 

With my head finally somewhat wrapped around the idea that I was some sort of fugitive for, well something, I came to realize after about a day and a half that the only course of action I had, was to wait and see what Princess Twilight could dig up, and hope it didn’t end with a platoon of guards dragging me off to Faust knows where. 

I spent most of my days hanging around the small Ponyville railyard. It was nothing compared to Tall Tale yard, sporting only a single, small, six engine roundhouse, a small eight siding yard area, and an even smaller “dispatch” area which tripled as the station and yard signal box. I spent much of the time walking the yard limits, chatting with off duty engine crews or the few maintenance crew members, talking with the yardmaster. 

It was nice talking with the Ponyville railway workers. Much as Dusted Quartz and Iron Sides had said, I had friends in the other railway workers of the nation even if I had never met them, and they weren’t so easily swayed by the words in the papers written by ponies that didn’t understand the basics of the lives we lived. 

Or, I’d simply just sit by the trackside and watch as the small 2-4-2’s, 4-4-0, 0-6-0’s, and the only other 2-4-0 I’d ever seen go about their work on the small local line, much like I had as a young Tall Tale railroad brat. This was the exact thing I was doing on my fourth day in Ponyville. I was sitting under a tree close to the roundhouse, and watched as one of the line’s 0-6-0 saddle tank was steamed up for a quick run down the local tracks to pick up loaded boxcars. 

I sighed as I listened to the slowly building steam start to flow through the small engine’s pipes, when I heard a voice, “You are a surprisingly hard pony to find FIre Stoker.” I looked over just in time to see Princess Twilight sitting down next to me. 

“Afternoon Princess.” I said with a nod. “Please Fire Stoker, just call me Twilight. I’m still not a fan of my new title.” Twilight said as she made herself comfortable on the grass next to me. “It took me awhile to track you down. I ended up having to ask your friend Coal Dust, after I tracked him down.” 

I had to chuckle at that, “Yeah, Dusty has been running around with his old buddies for the last few days. I’m surprised you were able to find him.” Twilight laughed, “It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure. But he was able to tell me that you’d be here. He said something about, not being able to stay away?” I gave a small smile, “Not being able to stay away from the railroad, that’s what he meant at least.” 

“Why’s that? If you don’t mind me asking. I would have expected you to be with Coal Dust.” My small smile grew slightly, “It’s hard to explain, and harder to truly understand. But it has to do with where I’m from. Before the railroad was started, Tall Tale was just a small little lumber town in the mountains. My grandfather grew up back then, and he told me that there wasn’t really very much to the town. There was maybe forty families in total, and it was a tight knit community. Then railroads around the country started popping up, and a couple ponies decided to build part of the railway that’s up there now. The town grew quick, and know it’s the size that it is today. But we stayed as close and tight knit as we had been when we were just the small little logging town. Not a big surprise, almost the entire town was employed by the railroad when it was at its height. Me, I’m a fourth generation Tall Tale colt, and a second generation railroad brat. Since it had been built, my family has worked on the railroad. My life has been centered around it since the day I was born. My grandfather is still considered the best engineer the line has ever seen, and my Dad filled his shoes pretty well. Me, I’m on the same track if what all my friends say is true. But that’s not why I love the railroad so much, it’s just a by product. No, to me, life just becomes simple when I’m in an engine cab. Sure, there’s the possibility that we could end up dead at the bottom of a mountain on a daily basis, but that just doesn’t come to my mind. When I’m in the driver’s seat, the world is just easier to understand. Sitting here, I’m a stallion in hiding, with ponies trying to track me down and throw me in jail for something that wasn’t my fault. But when I’m in an engine cab, I feel like I did when I was riding around with my Dad on runs. When I’m in the cab, I’m just a colt with a train, and the only thing I have to worry about is where the rails are taking me. And I’m not the only one from Tall Tale that feels like that.” 

I glanced back and looked at my cutie mark, an open fire box door with fire burning bright inside. Twilight followed my eyes and saw the cutie mark for herself, “There aren’t many ponies in Tall Tale that don’t have cutie marks that relate to the railway. Most of us are second or third generation railway ponies, and we all hold the railway near and dear to us. To us it’s more than just a job, it’s a way of life. It’s not an easy way of life, and it won’t make us rich anytime soon, but it’s one that we couldn’t think about leaving.” 

I then turned back to watching the 0-6-0, “Well, at least that’s what it used to be like. It’s become harder to not consider moving on to a different career.” “Why’s that?” Twilight asked. I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was actually interested in what I had to say. 

It felt kinda weird being such an average pony and having one of the princesses so interested in basically the backstory of my life. 

“There’s been a loss of respect for the railways, at least by the big decision makers.” Twilight cocked her head, “Loss of respect? How do you mean?” I looked over at her, “Well, railways demand respect from those who work on them. We run machines that weigh thousands of pounds, are scalding hot, and are basically rolling bombs. You have to treat them right, or they won’t treat you right. The ponies in Canterlot that run our railways now don’t see it that way. As my Grandfather and my Dad always told me, ‘Treat your engine right, and she’ll serve you without a gripe. Treat her wrong, and in no time you’ll be gone.’ That’s something we all try to live by in the Smokey’s, among other sayings, but Canterlot doesn't seem to see it like that.” 

Twilight didn’t say anything as she thought about what I had just told her. “That actually makes a lot of sense. I don’t know much about the operation of steam locomotives, but I have read up a bit on their construction since they’ve started to move into Ponyville heavily. They do seem to be the kind of machines that take only a small miscalculation to destroy.” She said after a few moments. She then turned to look at me again, “You’re Father and Grandfather sound like very smart ponies. I’d love to talk with them sometime.” 

I couldn’t help myself from hanging my head again, “I would too.” I could feel the quizzical look Twilight gave me, “What do you mean?” I sighed, “They’re both gone. My Grandfather disappeared almost twenty years ago when I was 8. We don’t know what happened to him, he was just gone one day without a trace. My dad, he, died when I was thirteen. There was a train that stalled on one of the grades, and a mix up with the signals due to fog. He ran right into the back of it, and gave his life to save his fire pony.” I didn’t say anymore, and just kept staring at the ground in front of me. Even after fourteen years, it was still hard for me to bring up my father’s passing. 

I then felt Twilight put a hoof on my shoulder, “I’m so sorry to hear that Fire Stoker.” I chuckled a little, trying to take the sadness out of the air, “Look at me. Telling a princess, basically me life story, as if she’s my psychiatrist.” I looked over to see Twilight smile softly, “Well, Princess Celestia always did her best to listen to the problems of ponies in her staff and those that came into her court, and try to comfort them when I was younger. She used to say that one of her roles as a Princess was to be supportive of her ponies who had seen loss.” 

I cracked a small smile, “I like the sound of that. Thank you, Twilight.” Twilight smiled and nodded, before she perked up, “Oh, I originally came looking to you to tell you what I’ve been able to find out. Celestia wasn’t able to find any information about a guard platoon being dispatched to Tall Tale. She even spoke with the commanding officer of the reserve base out there and he had gotten no order to go looking for you, nor did the local police. But both were able to confirm the fact that guards are patrolling both Tall Tale and Vanhoover looking for both you and Coal Dust to a lesser degree. She sent out a group of her personal guards to try and figure out who sent them out to Tall Tale. But when they got there today, they couldn’t find a single guard. So by the looks of things, you appear to be in the clear to go home. Myself and Celestia are still going to try and find out why guards were deployed in the first place.” 

That was the best news that I had heard all week. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.” I said as a massive smile came across my muzzle. 

Twilight chuckled, “After what you just told me, I do in a way.” I was about to say something else, but I was interrupted by another voice, “Mom!” Twilight and I both turned to see a black and indigo alicorn galloping over to us with a scroll held in her indigo magic. It took a minute but I realized as she grew closer that she had been one of the other fillies with Applebloom watching me pull into the yard those few days ago. As she got over to us and stopped to catch her breath, Twilight spoke, “What’s the problem Nyx?” 

The black alicorn finally caught her breath, “This letter just came in from Celestia. Spike said it was important.” Twilight smiled, “Well thank you for getting it over to me in a hurry. But why didn’t you just fly over?” Nyx grinned sheepishly, “My wings are still sore from my training with Scootaloo yesterday.” Twilight chuckled, “Well thank you again. You can head back to whatever you were doing.” Nyx smiled before she turned and trotted off back in the direction of the Crystal Palace. 

"I didn't know you had a daughter." I said casually as Nyx trotted away. Twilight smiled as she looked off at the retreating alicorn, "That's alright, you wouldn't have known to ask. Though, she technically is adopted." I was surprised to hear that, "Really? What brought you around to that decision? Was it because she was an alicorn?" Twilight laughed, "In a way." was all she said.

I returned my attention to the letter Nyx had brought, “So, what’s the letter say?” I asked as Twilight opened it and scanned it over. After she finished, she looked over at me and smiled, “Well, it looks like you are all set to go home. The plain clothed guards saw the Royal Guard Platoon boarding a train bound for Hoovington this morning. It seems everything has gotten cleared up.” 

I beamed, “That perfect. As much as I love this place, I really miss Tall Tale. As Applejack would probably say, it’s hard to stay away from my roots.” Twilight chuckled as I stood up, “That is something she would say.” I smiled back down at her and chuckled along, “Thank you for everything Twilight, it means a lot to me. Sorry to just run out of town, but I really want to go home.” 

Twilight nodded as she stood up too, “It’s no trouble at all Fire Stoker, I’m just happy I could help you out.” She reached over and gave me a quick hug, “I hope you have a good trip home Fire Stoker. And stay safe when you get back home.” I laughed as she let me go, “I’ll do my best Twilight, but that’s easier said than done back where I’m from. But, if I’ve gotten this far with all my limbs, I should be alright.” 

Twilight surprisingly laughed at the somewhat dark joke, “I’ll take your word for it, It was nice meeting you.” “Same to you Twilight. I’m sure our paths will cross again, hopefully without the guard tailing me next time.” We both laughed, and waved as I walked off to track down Coal Dust. 

It took a little while, but I finally found him, Mac, and Ratchet paling around in town. “Oh look who finally was able to pull himself away from the railyard. What’s goin’ on Stokes?” Dusty asked. I smiled as I joined the group, “Oh nothin’ much, just getting some good news from Princess Twilight.” “Oh, and what might that be?” Ratchet asked. 

I smiled at the others, mostly at Dusty though, “Those guards over in Tall Tale finally turned tail and left town. We can go home.” Dusty smiled, “Sweet!” He then turned to his two buddies, “Don’t take this the wrong way guys, I’ve loved having the chance to catch up with the pair of you. But I miss home. I may have grown up back here, but Tall Tale is my home, and so is the railway. Stokes is much worse than I am.” “Hey.” “But I can only stay out of the cab of an engine for so long.” 

Mac and Ratchet laughed, but Mac spoke for the both of them, “Ah can understan’ that Dust. Been good seein’ y’ah again though.” Ratchet nodded in agreement, “So, you skippin town right now?” Dusty looked over to me, “I’m ready to split when you are.” Dusty turned back to the others, “Yeah looks like it. Tell AJ and the rest of the clan that I said goodbye will’ya Mac?” Mac nodded again, “Can do.” Dusty smiled and shared a quick hoof shake with Mac and Ratchet, “Like I said guys, it’s been real good catching up. I’ll try to make it back sometime soon. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do while I’m gone.” 

He then winked at Ratchet, “That goes double for you with AJ.” Ratchet laughed while Mac shot him a death glare, “Oh calm down Mac, you know I’m just screwing around. You’re gonna have to let her go at some point.” The three of us laughed as Mac mumbled under his breath, before Dusty turned to me, “Well, you ready to rock.” I smiled, “More than ready.” 

We both turned to head towards the railyard, with Mac and Ratchet turning back in the direction of the farm. We walked over to the railway station to talk with the yardmaster to find out when the next train out west was due to head out. “Afternoon Punch.’ I said as we walked into the office. Ticket Punch, the yardmaster of Ponyville looked up from his work and smiled at us, “Afternoon boys, what can I do for you?” 

“We were curious when you next train out west was leaving,” Punch looked back down at his timetables, “Well, the next passenger train we have heading that was is bound for Appaloosa, but that won’t be leaving until tomorrow evening. However, we do have a short freight heading over to Applewood in just a couple minutes. I’m sure Road Switch won’t mind you two tagging along in the caboose.” Me and Dusty smiled, that was good enough for us, “That’ll be fine. Thanks Ticket Punch, if you’re ever out in Tall Tale, come find us.”

Punch laughed, “Don’t know when that’ll ever happen, but I’ll keep it in mind. Have a safe trip home boys.” “Thanks Punch!” Me and Dusty said as we walked out of his office and beelined for the yard. We found the train still getting organized over in the yard, so I left Dusty reserving our seats in the caboose as I walked over to the roundhouse. Since we had come in, 9413 and 9414 had been taking up two of the six bays, even if they didn’t fit. 

I walked up to the exposed front of 9414, ever since the record breaking run, I had earned a much larger respect for not only 9414, but Steam Punk and his team for having created such a beast of a machine. Even though she had been basically created from 9366, having never driven one of her class, I just didn’t understand why the passenger roster crews had been as angry as they were when the class had been banned from use, but now, I understood clearly. I set a hoof on her coupler, “Thanks for being good to me on the ride over girl. It’s sad to have to leave you here, knowing you won’t run on Tall Tale metals again, but it’s good to see you getting a second chance at life. Be good for those Manehatten ponies, ya hear?” 

The big engine’s metal seemed to settle with a creak, almost like it was saying ”Do I really have to?” “Hey, don’t give me any of that. They may not be the engineers you’re used to, but with Iron Sides around, I know they’ll treat you right. Just be good from them please.” 9414 creaked again, giving a quick ”Fine”. I smiled and patted her coupler, “Thanks girl.” I then looked over at 9413, “That goes for you two.” She creaked, ”Yes sir.”. I nodded, “Thanks again girls. I’ll come track you down in Manehatten some time, and show those steam colts how we run in the Smokey’s.” With that I turned away and started walking back to the yard proper. 

I knew that if somepony had walked up, they probably would have thought I was crazy. I was, in a way, but I’ve always felt that you had to be crazy in one way or another to run the rails of Tall Tale. We all talked to our engines up there, and I’m sure any normal pony would try and ship us all off to a mental hospital. The thought just made me laugh, maybe they should just open one up in Tall Tale, they’d get plenty of business. 

By the time I made it back to the yard proper, I saw the railway’s 4-4-0 backing down onto the small assembled freight train. “Come one Stokes! I’m not holding the door for you!” Coal Dust called from the back of the caboose. I rolled my eyes as I made my way over to the caboose, before pulling myself up onto the back of the caboose just as the train jerked into motion. “Almost missed your ride Stokes.” Road Switch said with a chuckle from his seat up in the caboose’s dog house. Both me and Dusty laughed, he had a bit of a point. 

As we slowly rolled past the Ponyville station, we saw Ticket Punch come out of his office and run towards the passing caboose. Seeing this, I quickly opened the door and stepped back out onto the walkway at the back of the caboose. As the caboose rolled closer to the rushing stallion, I called out to him, “What’s the rush Punch!” 

The other stallion came to a stop on the platform two cars ahead of the caboose, before he held up a piece of paper that he had in his magic and calling back “Telegram for you and Dusty just came through!” As I was brought closer and closer to the unicorn by the accelerating train, I reached my hoof out and grabbed the telegram out of his magic as I had done dozens of times before when running through Tall Tale non-stop with a freight to Hoofington. 

As I was dragged away by the train, Ticket Punch waved with a smile on his face, “So long tough guy!” I nearly fell off the walk laughing, “That doesn’t even make sense!” “Watch a movie sometime!” Ticket Punch yelled one final time before I was too far away to hear him over the sound of the locomotive at the head end as it picked up speed. 

“What did Punch want?” Dusty asked as I re-entered the caboose. I held up the piece of paper, “Telegram for us came through last minute. It’s probably just Files telling us the same thing Princess Twilight did about the guards leaving Tall Tale.” “I was wondering if that was the case. Or if the two of you had got found out and were running to a new town to lay low in for awhile.” 

Road Switch said with a laugh from above. “Ha ha very fun Switch, very funny.” “Hey, I thought it was funny.” “Well open it up and let’s get it over with. Might as well see what he had to say.” 

I nodded and opened up the folded piece of paper, “Let’s see here. Stoke, Dusty. I’ve got great news, the guards left Tall Tale. I think they finally figured out that they got something wrong. I’m sure the second you hear this you’ll jump the next train heading West. Just wanted to help you out, I wanted to let you know that a freight train will be heading out to Appaloosa tomorrow morning. It’s supposed to be a quick round trip, so if you two can make it out there in time I’m sure Blastpipe and Ash Pan would love to see the two of you again, and hoof the controls over. That’s right Coal, Ash is going back to work. His ribs, head, and leg are still healing, but the hospital cleared his concussion. Don’t know how he talked himself back into an engine cab, but you pulled it off so maybe it runs in the family. Crankshaft is happy he’s back though, case he finally took Blastpipe off his hoofplate. He keeps asking why he always gets stuck with Blast as a replacement firepony. Either way, see you boys when you get home.” 

Just as I had first guessed, Files was just telling us about the guards leaving Tall Tale, but I was surprised to hear that Ash Pan was already back in an engine cab, considering the injuries he had received in the wreck. I wasn’t the only one surprised either, “Wait what? Ash is already back driving? We’ve barely been gone a week and they already cleared him?” Coal asked in confusion. 

I shrugged, “This is Ash we’re talking about, he could talk his way into the Royal Guards and get promoted on the first day.” Coal shrugged, “Yeah you’re right. Still, it’ll be nice to see big bro again.” I shot Dusty a sideways look, “Since the hell when do you call Ash big bro?” Coal shrugged, “Since I nearly killed him.” “And I thought I had a weird family dynamic.” Switch said from above. The three of us laughed. 

That set the tone for the rest of the run, as the three of us shot the shit for the rest of the 17 hour journey to Applewood. I was kinda surprised that Ponyville would have a crew run for 17 hours straight, but considering we had done it just a few days earlier, it wasn’t too shocking. As the Ponyville crew switched with an Applewood one tasked with shunting the train, Coal Dust and I made our way over to the office to ask if they had any trains heading out to Appaloosa. 

It turned out they did, but it was literally leaving right then. Dusty and I didn’t waste any time as we ran into the yard, quickly seeing the train that was slowly beginning to leave the yard. We ran over to it as fast as we could, and found a conveniently open box car coming towards us. Having jumped trains a number of times before, we were easily able to match our speed with the accelerating train’s, and swing ourselves up into the moving car. 

The ride over to Appaloosa was longer than it had been when we ran it, but then again the 4-6-2 we were behind was doing 50 mph at best most of the trip. As we watched the sun come up from our spot in the boxcar, bot me and Dusty nodded off, sleeping through the entire ride. We were woken up by a pair of Appaloosa yard workers, who would have been a lot angrier about us jumping trains if they hadn’t recognized who we were. 

Even though we had just taken a two hour nap Dusty and I were still tried, so we quickly made our way over to the bunks to crash. We both came too early that night, feeling well rested and ready to finally go back to work again. Coal and I had both agreed on the ride over to Applewood that this was the longest vacation we had taken in years, and we were ready to see it finally come to an end. 

After taking a minute to get a small cup of coffee, Dusty and I made our way over to the small Appaloosa dispatch office to find out when the hell Blast and Ash were gonna be coming in. Turned out they still weren’t gonna be in until 8 o’clock that night. So, with nothing better to do for two hours, we decided to get our hooves dirty the old fashioned way and went to lend a hoof at the maintenance shed. 

After a couple of hours of greasing bearings, replacing brake shoes, cleaning out smoke boxes, and retubing boilers, the 2-10-2 Blastpipe and Ash Pan were in charge of rolled into Appaloosa. As we saw the beast come to a stop, we left the other shop ponies to their work and walked over to the idle engine. 

“Hey guys!” I yelled up to the cab as we grew closer. Two heads popped over the side of the engine cab, “Stokes, Dusty!” They both yelled happily as they jumped down from the cab and tackle hugged us. Dusty laughed as Ash Pan got up and ruffled his mane, “Ha, good to see you again big bro.” 

Ash Pan laughed as he pulled Coal into a headlock, meanwhile Blastpipe looked over at the brothers, “Since the hell when did he start calling you big bro?” He asked as he helped me up. Ash Pan laughed as he noogied Coal’s mane, “Every since he thinks he nearly killed me. Doesn’t bother me much, means I get to screw with him more.” 

He said with a chuckled as he pressed his hoof down harder. “Ok Ash, enough. Enough!” Ash Pan laughed as he finally let Coal Dust go, “Alright alright I stopped.” He then brushed his hoof off on his denims, “Faust, you got enough soot and grease in your hair? What did you not shower for a week, again?” “One time! One damn time and I never hear the end of it!” 

I couldn’t help but chuckle, “No, he actually cleaned himself for once. We’ve actually been helping out the shop ponies over here for the last few hours waiting for you two to show up.” Blast and Ash laughed, “Why am I not surprised. You two still can’t stay away from the railway. Especially you Stokes, how’d you survive?” Blast said with a laugh. Coal Dust himself laughed, “He didn’t! He spent almost the entire time we were in Ponyville hangout at their railyard!” 

The others laughed, I just shrugged. They knew I had a hard time staying away from the railroad, so I didn’t really see why this joke was still funny. “I think Fire Stoker is an addict! Time to ship him off to rehab!” That one was actually funny, so I laughed a little bit. 

“Alright you three, enough taking the mickey out of me.” They stopped laughing, well Blast and Ash did, I had to smack Dusty to finally shut him up. “Alright, in all seriousness, you two still got enough left in you for the return journey back to Tall Tale?” Ash asked. “Yeah, I think we’ll be alright.” 

That was when Blashpipe and Ash Pan let there faces show how tired they were, “Good, because we’re dead. The train we’re taking back is already organized and ready to leave. Everything you need to know is on the second set of papers on the clip board next to your seat Stokes. We’ll see you when we get home.” The two then started walking off towards the yard. “Where the hell are you two going?” Dusty called. “To the train. We know where it is and we’re gonna go get some sleep in the caboose. See ya!” Blast called back as they kept walking. 

I turned to Coal, “Well, you ready to go back to work properly?” Dusty stretched a bit, “I guess. Even if hoof firing a hungry freight engine isn’t exactly what I feel like doing for 18 hours.” “Oh like you don’t enjoy it. If you didn’t, you would have put in to become an engineer by now.” Coal smiled at me, “And deprive you of my lovable personality, never.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, right, that’s why. Tell you what, if you fire to Mustangia, I’ll fire the rest of the way to Tall Tale.” Dusty waved a hoof as he walked over to the 2-10-2’s cab ladder, “Nah. By then if I don’t keep moving, I won’t be able to get out of the seat when we get to the yard.” I shrugged as I walked after him, “Have it your way.” With that, we pulled ourselves into the engine, #6059, and set to work. 

It had been a long time since I had touched one of the “big six’s” as the shop crews liked to call them, as the railway only had 15 of them. Though, that might have changed since I had left because I distinctly remembered three of them being on the verge of boiler failure when we left, and knowing how busy the back shops were, they probably wouldn’t have the time to get them done for awhile. 

It only took a minute to get situated and ready to roll, and once the yard crew had uncoupled us from the train, we moved off to get turned around and ready to collect our return train. Five minutes later, we were turned, refueled, and coupled up to the return train. With confirmation that Blastpipe and Ash Pan were indeed in the caboose, and already sound asleep. With everything set and ready, I reached forward, grabbed the regulator, and cracked it open. 

The feeling of steam rushing into the cylinders of an engine under my hooves that I’d desperately been missing filled me as my “big six” pulled the slack out of her train, and started to pull me back home. 

I won’t bore you with the return journey, as it was pretty stock standard, compared to the journey we had taken the first time we ran the line. But I will say I was able to get the big freight hauler to hit 90 mph, so it wasn’t too boring of a run. But, with all that said, I couldn’t help but let out a happy sigh as the sign for the Tall Tale yard limit came into view around the edge of #6059’s boiler. 

“We’re almost home Dusty.” I said with a yawn as I slowed the engine down to the 30mph local limit before the yard. “Thank Faust.” Dusty said with a grunt as he threw another big shovel full of coal into the fire box, “I really wish they would clean these things out right. It makes them such a pain in the ass to fire” I let out a sleepy laugh as I pulled back on the brakes, “I’ll take your complaint up with Blowtorch.” 

Dusty grumbled as he leaned back against the cab wall, “Like that will do anything anymore, he doesn’t have control over the shops like he used to.” I mumbled a tired agreement as we came across the beginnings of the yard. 

As I slowly pulled the “big six” in, I saw a crowd of ponies standing by the tracks, “Dusty, I think we’ve got a welcoming committee.” Coal Dust got up and came over to my side of the cab, to see what looked like the entire workforce of the railway waiting to greet us as we pulled in. “Blast and Ash must have phoned ahead.” Dusty said as I brought the train. 

Literally everpony was there, even Reefer was there, dressed up in this destroyed denims. “Welcome back boys!” He yelled as #6059 came to a stop. Everypony else cheered, it felt like we were celebrities or something. 

“Well, you know what they say Stokes, it’s good to be home.” Dusty said as he patted me on the back. “You got that right Dusty.” I said with a happy sigh. 

We were finally home, and could get on with our lives. 

That’s at least what I thought. 

Just as me and Dusty went to step onto the ladder of the cab and climb down, the doors on the boxcars of the train parked to our left were flung open. 

Turns out the guards hadn’t left after all, and the first we knew of it was when I found my face slammed to the grimmy floor of #6059’s cab, as Dusty was forced out. “You’re under arrest for first degree murder, evading arrest, and interruption of a guard investigation!” 

The pony on my back hollered as I was forced into a full set of hoofcuffs. I was so tired and caught off guard that I didn’t know what to say, or even think. The massive assembly of railponies tried to come to my rescue, but were forced back by the spears of the other guards. 

Despite this, Blowtorch, Dusty, Reefer, and even Red Hot tried to fight there way to me, but ended up being stopped by the guards all the same. “Stokes!” Coal yelled to me as he struggled with two earth pony guards on the ground. 

“Dusty! You gotta tell somepnoy! You gotta tell Twi….” The rest of my sentence was cut out as one of the guards holding me down hit me in the back of the head with the end of his spear, knocking me out cold.
> Chapter 9: The Pieces Are Revealed
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a while before I came too. 

As I started to wake up, I felt myself laying on a very uncomfortable bed. When I was fully back to reality, I looked around to find myself in a dark, windowless prison cell. I jumped up off the bed and ran over to the bars of the cell. 

The cell was at the end of a dimly lit corridor that led to a closed door, and my cell was the only one in the corridor. I didn’t know what to think as I went back and sat down on the lumpy mattress that was in the cell. I couldn’t believe it, I was actually in jail. I was in jail, I had been arrested for something completely out of my control, after all Princess Twilight had told me that it had all been a mistake. 

That thought made me start to panic. Had Princess Twilight lied to me? Had Princess Celestia instructed her at what to say to get me back to Tall Tale? Had it all been one big lie? With my worldview completely shattered, and no idea what was going to happen next, I did the only thing I could bring myself to do. I laid down on the old dirty bed and cried my heart out. 

Hours ticked by, but I had no way of knowing thanks to the lack of a window in my cell. The only way I could tell time was ticking by was through my well tuned internal clock, and the appearance of a small tray of food at some point while I had been facing away from the cell bars. Nothing five star I assure you, just a bowl of oats and a glass of water, but I couldn’t care less, I was just happy to be fed. 

As I sat awake in my bed, at around midnight going off of my internal clock, I heard the faint sounds of a train going past outside the walls. As I listened to it travel past, unable to guess at what type of engine it was thanks to the muffling of the stone walls, an old song came to my mind. It was something many of us would sing when drunk in the bar back in Tall Tale when we heard one of the late night goods head out, more as a drunken joke than anything else. 

The song had come around years ago while a folk singer was spending time in jail himself, but it quickly became a classic around on the rails. As the sound of the engine began to fade away, I couldn’t help but sing to the last line of the chorus as I finally drifted off to a restless sleep, “Let the Midnight Special shine a light on me, let the Midnight Special shine a ever lovin' light on me.” 





Two more days went by with me stuck with nothing to do in the cell but listen to the trains passing by the prison, eating the slop I was given for meals, and singing along with the sounds of the midnight goods train to help myself find some sleep. 

After my third night in the cell, I once again found myself staring at the ceiling, one of my new “favorite” pastimes, when I heard somepony talking with the guard that I had learned was stationed at the closed door ending the hallway. Do to how far away the door was from my cell, and how thick the door was, I couldn't make out what they were saying. But after a few moments of muffled conversation, I heard the door open and the guard’s voice, “You’ve got twenty minutes.” 

After he said that, I heard the tell tale sound of hooves pounding on the concrete floor fill the corridor. Seconds later, Coal Dust appeared on the other side of the bars. “Stokes!” I couldn’t believe my eyes, “Dusty! Oh Faust am I happy to see you!” I said as I ran over to the bars of the cell. Dusty cocked a smile, “And I brought someone along with me.” “It’s nice to see you again Fire Stoker, and good to see you’re alright.” Said Princess Twilight Sparkle as she walked into my view. I flinched back a little when I saw her. 

While I had no reason to believe it was Princess Twilight’s fault that I ended up arrested, the idea that it was partly her fault was still fresh in my mind. My flinch didn’t go unnoticed by the Princess, she sighed, “Fire Stoker, I understand that you might feel that I hold some blame for you ending up here. But I want to let you know, that I had nothing to do with it. It turns out that the guards were able to get their hooves on a copy of that telegram you showed me a few days after the fact. Since your friend Files never stated where you guys had ran to, so their leaving Tall Tale was just a ruse to lure you back.” 

That somewhat put me at ease, but I was still stuck behind bars. “Wait, does that mean you’re here to let me out?” The slight hope amount of hope that I had let build up inside of me disappeared in an instant as I watched both Dusty and the Princess hung their heads. “Unfortunately not Fire Stoker. There is nothing me or the other princesses can do but let you go to court.” “What! Why? Aren’t you guys the highest authorities in the land?” 

Twilight sighed before looking back up to me, “While in any normal situation, you’d be right and I’d be walking you out of here right now. But, that is not the case in your scenario do to the circumstances of the situation.” I raised an eyebrow at that statement, “What might those be?” “You were accused of murder by one of the higher noble houses. Because of this, we can’t just simply throw out the case, no matter what we know about its validity. You’re going to have to stay here until you are taken to the court appearance.” 

That was the absolute last thing I wanted to hear. The thought of having to spend even more time in that Faust forsaken cell was a horrifying one. I looked over to Coal Dust, who hadn’t said much since actually arriving, “You good there Dusty?” “I should be the one asking you that. I’m fine, just pissed. I knew all of this before we got here, but seeing you set alone down here just gets under my skin. I knew those nobles were bad news, but I never thought they’d go this far.” 

I chose not to focus on the fact that he had said ‘down here’, as he had made me think of something, “Princess, I understand that you can’t let me leave, but can you at least tell me who made the claim? I’ve been trying to make sense of that since I woke up here.” Coal Dust turned to look at the Princess as well, “Yeah, you never got around to telling me who they were either.” Twilight nodded, “I guess that’s the least I can do for the two of you, the charges were filed by Prince Blueblood.” She said, spitting out the word Prince with as much disdain as she could muster. 

It sounded weird to me to hear a crowned Princess of Equestria show so much disdain towards one of her subjects. That’s when the name she said set an alarm off in my head, “Wait a second, Prince Blueblood? As in Prince Blueblood Plattera? That Prince Blueblood?” A scowl appeared on the Princess’s muzzle, “One in the same.” 

I felt anger begin to build up inside of me, but Dusty beat me to voicing that anger. “I knew it! I bucking knew it! I knew those bucking nobles were up to something, but nopony wanted to believe me!” Princess Twilight visibly jumped at the sound of Coal Dust’s outburst, “What the hay?” Even though I was just as anger as Dusty at that little drop of knowledge the Princess had given us, I knew that Dusty would quickly go off the deep end if he didn’t calm down. He tended to not handle his anger very well, or handle it at all. “Dusty, calm down.” “Why bucking should I Stokes! That little son of a..” “Coal Dust!” That stopped Dusty right in his tracks. 

Considering how long we had known each other, it was rare for either of us to use the others full name. If we did, the other knew to shut the hell up and listen. “Chill, the hell, out. Go walk to the door and back or something. Last thing we need is you ending up in here too.” Dusty muttered a sling of curses, but did as I asked and slowly walked out of my sight. 

I then turned back to the now shocked Princess, “Sorry you had to see that Princess, Dusty’s not very good at controlling his temper.” “I can see. But what I don’t understand is why he got so angry when I mentioned Prince Blueblood.” Princess Twilight said as she her eyes flicked to watch Coal Dust walk away. I sighed out of frustration, more at the situation than the Princess herself, “It’s because Prince Blueblood was one of the noble ponies who took over the railway four years ago. He’s actually one of the five “big bosses” of the railways now. Himself and those four others have earned a hated reputation among us back home. The fact that he’s the reason I’m in here is, eye opening and frustrating.” “And raises many questions. Ones that will have to be answered quickly.” 

That caught my attention, “What do you mean?” Twilight sighed, “As I said earlier, the Princess has no choice but let you go to trial. But since this is one of the first murder cases to pop up in almost 100 years, and the fact that the accusations came from a noble, she wants the trial to happen as quick as possible. So your hearing is to take place Friday.” “Friday! That’s four days from now!” 

The fact that I actually knew that it was Monday was more impressive to me than the fact that I was four days from my life possibly being ruined. 

Twilight nodded, “Yes, it is. And given by your reaction that’s the first time you heard about this.” “What was your first clue?” I said automatically, my old railroad brain not contemplating who I was actually talking to. The second the end of the sentence left my mouth, I realized what I had said, “Sorry, Princess. Being cooped up in here for three days and old habits from back home don’t mix well.” Twilight nodded knowingly, “I understand. But I ask because in this sort of situation, you should have been visited by the lawyer representing you.” 

I shook my head, “Nopony’s come to see me. You and Dusty are the first ponies that’ve visited me since I got put in here.” The look on Twilight’s face soured, “That raises even more questions.” “What else is new.” Dusty commented with a thick layer of snark as he reappeared in front of the bars. “Calmed down?” “Enough to hold a conversation.” He muttered back. I rolled my eyes, but I kept the comment of ”We’ll see about that.” to myself. 

It was then Twilight cleared her throat, “Sorry to interrupt, but to go back to my previous point. If you haven’t had any contact with a lawyer by now, it would seem like you weren’t assigned one. Given how close to the trial we are, that could prove problematic. Any lawyer would have a hard time getting the facts of this case squared away before the trial takes place.” “I bet that wasn’t done on purpose.” Dusty muttered under his breath, but he went no further. I took that torch, “Well, if I know anything about Blueblood” ”More like Blueballs” “Dusty. Anyways, if I know anything about him, he’s gonna probably hire the best lawyer his money can buy. I can’t represent myself against that!” 

A very small smile came across Twilight’s face, “No, no you can’t. That’s why I’ll represent you in the trial.” Both me and Coal Dust turned to stare at Twilight in shock, “You can do that? Won’t the nobles call favoritism or something if we win since you used to be Princess Celestia’s student?” I asked, an honest question in my mind. Twilight scoffed, “Princess Celestia has receded over trials where her sister was representing one of the ponies, and ruled against her several times. If they have a problem with me representing you against Blueblood, they can take it up with the three of us once this is over.” 

I thought about that for a second. Even though I could literally have my life ruined in four days by one of my asshole bosses, the fact that I was going to be legally represented by one of the Princesses, the one that many considered one of the smartest ponies even before her ascension. I suddenly felt very confident that I was going to get the chance to have the power of a locomotive be at my beck and call. “Thank you Princess, you have no idea what that means to me.” “Please, just Twilight. I’m not your princess right now, I’m your friend and lawyer. Now I hate to cut this short, because I can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been the last few days. But the time the guard gave us is almost up, and I have a lot of work I need to do if we are going to prove your innocence.” She smiled as she nodded her head, “Stay strong Fire Stoker. I’ll see you at the trial.” 

With that, she turned and walked away leaving me and Dusty alone. “You’ll be seeing me there too Stokes. You better believe that me and the others are gonna have your back against these guys.” I felt a warm smile come across my muzzle, “Thanks Dusty. Let the others know that I’m alright.” Coal Dust nodded, “You can count on me. Hang in there Stokes, with Faust as my witness we will get you outta here.” I chuckled, “I’ll hold you to that Dusty.” He smiled back, “You do that.” With that, he turned to leave, “Stay strong Stokes.” And with that, he was gone, and I was left on my own once again. 

But, even though I was once again left alone in the tiny cell I was now forced to call home, I felt confident. I had one of the Princesses on my side, and what seemed like every railway worker in the nation at my defense. I walked back over to my lumpy mattress and laid down with a confident smirk plastered on my face, “If you want to take me out Blueblood, then I’m going down swinging.” 





The next three days actually passed by pretty quickly all things considered, even if I was completely bored out of my mind. Yet, Friday morning came all the same, and I was as ready as I was gonna get. An hour after my breakfast had been served to me, the same bowl of oats and water I’d been given for every meal since I had been stuck in there, one of the guards walked down to my cell before letting me out and leading me through the prison and out front where a barred chariot waited to bring me to the castle where the trial was being held. 

The ride wasn’t rather long, but it was completed in silence, as I had a lot on my mind. I was in for a shock though as we approached Canterlot Castle. Lined up on both sides of of the walk up to the castle’s main doors were hundreds of ponies, maybe even other a thousand. Several of them were holding signs demanding for my release, and probably ninety percent of them were dressed in greasy, tattered, and faded railway denims. 

As the guard chariot came to a stop in front of the walk and I was let out, the crowd of ponies began to cheer and shout encouragements as I was walked up to the main doors. It nearly brought a tear to my eye. After being lead through the main doors, and down a short hallway, I was lead through the twin doors that lead into the throne room. I was surprised to find two things. First, there were even more ponies inside the throne room, again with most of them dressed in railway denims. And second, everything was set up like an actual courtroom. The thrones of the two sisters had even been removed, replaced with a classic judge’s bench. 

As I was lead up to my table in front of the bench, I looked around the room at the ponies sitting around, noticing that many of them were friends and co-workers of mine from back in Tall Tale, of course dressed in their denims. As my eyes connected with theirs, they would mostly nod, or mouth words of encouragement as I was lead up to the front. “Stokes!” A voice called through the hum of other voices in the room. 

I looked up ahead of myself to see Coal Dust sitting in the front row right behind where I was about to sit, surrounded by many familiar faces. After I had been sat down, uncuffed, and then had my left hind hoof cuffed to the table leg, the guards walked away to stand next to the bailiff at the other side of the room. 

Finally being left alone, I turned around to see the wonderful sight of Dusty, my Mom, Crankshaft, Blastpipe, Ash Pan, Wood Refer, Blow Torch, Files, Red Hot, Smoke Box, Fire Box, and even Ditchlight, Bulkhead, High Ball, Spotlight, Bulk Jr., and Big Red all sat in the front row right behind me. “Guys, it’s good to see all of you, and everypony else. It seems like half the railway showed up.” The group laughed, “That’s because they did.” Blow Torch said, drawing my attention towards him. 

It was then that I noticed Blow Torch was in rough shape. His right foreleg was wrapped up and in a sling, and the rest of his body was covered in different bandages. “Faust Torch the hell happened to you?” The large backshop earth pony shrugged, “Patch panel on one of the switchers blew out while I was on the walks checking the welds on the dome. Knocked me off and banged me up a bit, but I’ll live.” 

“Back on topic.” Red Hot cut in, “It looks like half the railway showed up because they actually did, more than half actually. The railroad’s pretty much shut down right now. The only ponies who are still back home are a few running the passenger routes, and a hooffull of roundhouse workers. The rest are all here, to support you.” I couldn’t believe it, “You guys basically shut down the whole railway, all just to come out here and support me? Why?” “Because, if you go down over this, the railway is basically screwed. Management will know they can get away with this stupid stuff, and if they believe that they can get away with it, the railways just gonna fall apart.” I looked over to find that it had been Ditchlight who had spoke. 

The old stallion and my old boss looked worse for wear. He had been the oldest of the original owners, and his age was really beginning to show. We all knew that his time left was limited, but he never really let it show. “He’s right Fire Stoker.” This time High Ball spoke, “If they think they can just throw their workers in jail to get out of their problems, there’s no hope for the Smokey’s. So we felt that if they won this, and we’d all be screwed anyways, might as well put a dent in their books and be here to give you all the support we can.” That time a tear did come to my eye, “Thanks guys.” 

“Smug bastard.” I heard Coal Dust mutter from my left. I turned to him, but all he did was motion his head towards the other table in the courtroom. That’s when I finally noticed him. Prince Blueblood and his lawyer were already sitting at the other table, almost reclining in their seats, with the smuggest looks I’d ever seen plastered across their faces. I heard Crankshaft huff, “They already think they’ve got this won.” I didn’t say anything more as I turned back around to face the bench, the confidence I had felt over the last few days fading quickly. 

My only hope at not only saving myself, but my friends, the railway, and my town, now lay in the hooves of Princess Twilight, who was worryingly absent. Time ticked by slowly, as the start time for the trial edged closer and closer, and still there was no sign of Twilight. I sat there at the table, looking up at the bench sweating bullets. No matter the fact that I knew I was innocent, being seated pretty much next to Blueblood, soon to be having one of the co-rulers of the nation staring down on me passing her judgement, and Twilight still being missing, I was getting worried. “Where the hell is Twilight?” I muttered to myself as I looked around the room again for what felt like the tenth time in the past minute. 

That’s when I caught a slight shift in the bailiff’s stance, and the two words that left his mouth nearly stopped my heart, “All rise!” I stood on shaky legs with the rest of the room as I saw her walk in. “In the case of Blueblood v Fire Stoker, her Majesty Princess Celestia presides.” The Princess walked up behind the bench before taking a seat. “Be seated.” She commanded, her voice flat, emotionless, and calculated. 

I quickly retook my seat along with everypony else in the courtroom. My lungs nearly jumped into my throat as she turned her attention towards me, “Fire Stoker, you have been accused of First Degree Murder, Evasion of Arrest, and Interference of a Royal Guard investigation by a member of Royal Nobility. By law you are allowed to represent yourself if you so choose. Do you have a lawyer or are you representing yourself?” 

I tried to speak, but my mind had completely shut down and I couldn’t make myself say anything. That’s when my saving grace came through the door, “Indeed he does your highness.” Everypony in the courtroom turned to see Princess Twilight walking in, her saddle bags bumping against her sides. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw her, and out of the corner of my eye I saw the brief look of concern that came across Blueblood’s and his lawyer’s faces as Twilight sat down next to me. 

That relief didn’t last long when I saw the raised eyebrow upon Princess Celestia’s face, “Twilight, my faithful student. Interesting to see you here. You are taking the role as Fire Stoker’s lawyer.” Twilight nodded, “Yes your Highness, I am.” Princess Celestia nodded once, “Very well.” It was then the trial began properly. 

Blueblood’s lawyer, Quick Case, spent the next two hours bringing up every little mistake I had ever made in my entire career, and twisting the #97 incident to fit his narrative that I had murdered Crystal Shard. The weird thing was, throughout the entire two hours, and every accusation Quick Case leveled at me, Twilight remained silent. She hadn’t spoken as much as a word since she had talked with Princess Celestia at the beginning, and I wasn’t the only one to notice either. 

After his closing points on the #97 incident, Celestia turned away from Quick Case to look over at us, “Twilight, you haven’t made any attempt to dispute Quick Case’s arguments. Is there a reason for this?” “Indeed there is your Highness.” Twilight said as she stood up from the table. “I was merely observing the accusations and arguments of my opposition to see if it proved my theory.” 

This caused Princess Celestia’s eyebrow to raise again, “I see, and do you feel your theory has been proven?” Twilight nodded, “Indeed I do your Highness. From what I have witnessed her, and the investigations I have done into the events in question, I firmly believe that the charges placed against my client, Fire Stoker, are entirely false. Additionally, I firmly believe that these chargers were filed against my client purely for Blueblood’s financial gain. And furthermore, I believe the actions committed by Blueblood and his fellow nobles over the last four years have indirectly lead to nearly 100 deaths.” You could almost feel the air in the room disappear as Twilight finished her final statement. 

A fresh tension rose in the courtroom in its place with the rise of Princess Celestia’s eyebrow. “That is an interesting string of theories Twilight, ones that carry with them the need for proper evidence to prove.” “Evidence that I have been able to discover, along with a witness that has been in this exact same scenario in the past for near identical reasons.” “Objection your Highness!” Quick Case yelled, “By rules of the Equality In Court Act, witnesses cannot be introduced on the day of a trial as the opposition must have time to configure their arguments with the introduction of said witness.” 

That’s when Twilight cracked a smile, “While that is true, due to the short time frame of this trial to compile evidence and witnesses, such an action is allowed with the exception that the judge of the trial has the ability to dismiss the witness and any information they bring with them.” “Twilight is correct Quick Case. I will allow the witness to testify, but any information he gives will be considered inconsequential until my say so.” Twilight nodded, “Of course your Highness.” It was then Twilight lit her horn, and one of the doors at the back of the courtroom swung open. 

Three sets of hoofsteps began to sound along the marble floor of the throne/courtroom, along with the clanking of hoofcuff chains. Everypony turned towards the door, that is except for Twilight herself. Every railpony from Tall Tale, including myself, and Princess Celestia went slack jawed as our eyes fell upon two guards that were stationed on either side of an earth pony. 

The stallion shuffled his hoofs as he walked in full four hoof shackles, his orange prison jumpsuit covered up almost all of his light grey coat, yet his man was left long and hanging. Underneath a part of his white to grey mane, tipped in a similar orange as his jumpsuit, was a kind grin of an aged stallion. He was walked up to the front of the courtroom until he was nearly even with me, standing in front of a still shocked Princess Celestia. 

When he came to a stop, he flicked his head so that his mane fell away from his face before he looked up to the Princess herself with a smile, “Afternoon your Majesty.” He said in a deep voice, thick with a Tall Tale accent. 

It took Celestia a moment to let what she was seeing sink in. 

Once it had all finally clicked for her, she could only mutter one name. 

“Hotbox."
> Chapter 10: Colt With A Train
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I couldn’t believe my eyes. 

Myself and all the other rail ponies back in Tall Tale had given my grandfather up for dead after being missing for 19 years. But here he was, standing right next to me, dressed up like some highly dangerous criminal. 

It was then Hotbox looked over his shoulder and smiled at me, “Nice to see you too Stokey. Got yourself in a bit of a pinch her huh?” It was at that moment Twilight chose to speak up again, “Hotbox here has first hoof experience in this exact situation of false accusations leveled by Blueblood for his financial gain.” 

Finally, Princess Celestia was able to recover enough to speak, “Elaborate.” “I can take it from here Miss Twilight.” Hotbox said as the two guards that had been escorting him finished up uncuffing him and stepped away to stand next to the bailiff. 

Hotbox moved his hooves around a little bit, before returning his attention back to Celestia, “About, 19 years ago, I was sitting at home, enjoying my morning coffee and preparing for my day. My wife had left a few minutes earlier so she could get to her classroom on time and prepare for her day herself. I was about to make the walk over to the rail yard when I heard a knock on the front door, and a pony on the other side say that they were with the Royal Guard. So I opened up the door and found, oh something like 14 guards standing outside my home. One of them asked if I was, well me, and then said that I was under arrest for High Treason against the crown. I knew nothing good would come from arguing with them, so I simply asked them if I could let the railway know that I wouldn’t be able to make it in that day, and then I’d be more than happy to come with them. I turned back into my house to write Bulkhead a letter, and that was when they barged in after me. Bumped me around a little before dragging me out, but it didn't bother me all that much. I had played hoofball in my younger days, and had seen my fair share of scrapes while working on the railroad, so no harm no foul if you ask me. Anyways, I got hauled over here to Canterlot and thrown in a lonely box, or solitary if you want to be fancy. Been there ever since.” 

I felt like was going to either shutdown due to my brain giving out, or blow my top in anger. My grandfather was alive, he had been for all these years, and he had been rotting away in some lonely prison cell for something he had never done thanks to the same pony who had tried to do it with me. 

My anger subsided a little bit when I caught sight of the look of complete confusion on Princess Celestia’s face. “That doesn’t make sense. An accusation of high treason requires a trial presided over by both my sister and myself, and must be carried out within two weeks of the accused being detained.” She said as she continued to try and comprehend what she was being told. “But such a trial hasn’t happened in nearly 150 years.” 

The grin on Twilight’s face grew into a confident smirk, “157 to be exact your Highness. But that’s because Hotbox never went on trial.” A silent gasp when up among the crowd in the courtroom, and Princess Celestia’s confused look only deepened, “Is that true Hotbox?” The old stallion nodded, “Indeed it is your Majesty. Spend those years waiting for my trial to happen. Then next thing I know my grandson is beating me to it. Always were an overachiever weren’t ya Stokey.” A much needed light laugh went up among the ponies from Tall Tale. 

Celestia, however, did not share in the amusement, “That shouldn’t be possible. We have systems set in place to keep track of prisoners who haven’t gone to trial yet to prevent these exact situations.” Twilight stepped up to stand next to Hotbox again, “That may be true your Highness. But after looking into this situation, myself and my team that I put together to assist me with gathering information for the trial discovered that several of the guards in charge of the solitary confinement wing at the Canterhorn Correctional Facility were receiving payments from an external source. These guards just so happened to be the ones in charge of the inmate records, and they were being paid to keep Hotbox’s name off of the records. That’s how they were able to keep Hotbox locked away in solitary confinement for nearly two decades with the crown being none the wiser. When we noticed this, and followed the paper trail that was left behind, you may not be surprised to find that we were lead straight to the estate of Prince Blueblood.” It took all of three seconds for every eye in the courtroom to turn and focus on Blueblood, including Princess Celestia herself. 

“Is that so.” Celestia said, her voice cold and even. 

But Twilight wasn’t done, “And that wasn’t all.” she said, redirecting attention back to herself, “Once we noticed this trail leading to Blueblood and the Tall Tale railroad, we started to dig deeper. We found that not long after Blueblood and his fellow nobles took control of the railroad and integrated it into the Celestial Pacific, it began to fall into a state of disrepair. In some areas it even fell behind national regulations. To give an example, for the 30 years that the Tall Tale Mountain Short Line was in operation, even with the few advances in railway safety at its beginning, only had a total of 63 accidents that resulted in notable damage to rolling stock with only 27 of those being fatal. That may seem high to those who are not very versed in the nation’s railroad, but when you compare those numbers to the national averages for the time period, they are nearly two times lower than those averages. In fact, the short line was identified among the top three safest railroads in the entire nation, and in the top ten of all of Equis. Additionally, in the decade prior to the absorption into the Celestial Pacific, the Tall Tale Mountain Short Line only had seven accidents on record that resulted in rolling stock damage, with only two of these being fatal.” Hearing that made me feel a pain in my heart, knowing that one of those two accidents had been the one that took away my father. Even as I thought about another lost member of my family, Twilight continued, “Why do I bring all of this up? Because, in the four years that the railway has been a part of the Celestial Pacific, there have been 85 accidents resulting in rolling stock damage, with 31 of them being fatal. Some of those accidents even resulting in passenger fatalities, and that doesn’t even include the injuries and deaths that have occurred on the maintenance side of the railroad.” 

That stung all of us from Tall Tale. We knew the facts already, but that didn’t make hearing about accidents that had taken friends, co-workers, and family away from us. Twilight then pulled out one of the folders that she had hidden in her saddle bags and presented it to Celestia. “That folder holds several of the orders that the nobles hooved down to solely the Smoke Mountain region of the Celestial Pacific.” 

As Celestia looked through the folder Twilight had presented her, Twilight turned to face the crowd, “Now to explain to everypony before I lay out the after effects of these orders, I must go over a few facts of the Smokey Mountain region. The Smokey Mountain region handles mostly freight traffic along a line that holds the two steepest gradients in the entire nation for a class A railroad, with the steepest being a 2.9 percent. That means that for every 100 feet of track, there is a rise of 2.9 feet, something that is near unheard of outside of small railroads built for the logging industry. Because of this, their roster is full of heavy freight and passenger locomotives that are used to their very limit on a daily basis, just to get over the mountain, meaning they are in a constant need of inspection and repair to prevent destruction. Yet one of the first orders you will find in that folder was one that limited daily maintenance to the passenger locomotive roster, the smaller section of the roster and the ones that usually need less maintenance than the locomotive used for freight. Many sources that I’ve talked to over the last few days that work or have worked on the railway have informed me that the only time any member of the current freight roster is brought in for proper maintenance is when said engine is on the brink of a catastrophic failure. Additionally, they severely reduced the budget for track maintenance and inspection, something desperately needed for a railroad whose tracks are quite literally built into the side of a mountain. And once more, they outright banned the use of two classes of engine that were specifically built for the railway that were made to handle long express passenger and freight trains over the steep mountain grades. Many of these changes has lead to nearly half the railway’s staff to quit for the sake of their own health, dropping the railroad staff from over 2,100 ponies before the take over, to a staff size now of barely 1,300. All of this have lead to a railway which is understaffed, overworked, badly maintained, and on the brink of a major disaster. In fact, one was narrowly averted just recently, and is part of the basis for this very trial.” 

Twilight then powered up the same projection spell that Quick Case had been using to show images throughout the trial, and an image of #97 before her accident appeared. “This is Tall Tale Mountain Short Line locomotive #97, as you have already been shown.” 

The image then shifted to one of the Dragon Tooth River Bridge, “And this is the Dragon Tooth River Bridge, which spans the Dragon Tooth River at the summit of the Smokey Mountain. We’ll come back to this in a moment.” 

The image then shifted again to show a wide angle shot of the pile of splintered wood and twisted steel that had once been a Crystal Empire freight train, “And this, is the result of the accident that was caused by #97. Which, again, you have already seen. But now, let’s go back to the Dragon Tooth River.” 

The image shifted once again to show the bridge with the damage caused by #97. “Now some of you might notice the damaged span in the center of the bridge. This damage was caused the same day as the accident with the Crystal Northern freight train. I can imagine that some of you might be wondering what caused this damage, and how it connects here. Well, let me show you.” 

The image shifted once more, receiving a mild gasp from the audience and Celestia, as the new image appeared on screen. It was a picture of Bertha strung out and hoisting something up out of the river, an engine. The image then zoomed in on the engine enough so the number on the side of the cab could be read. Starting back at everypony in the courtroom, were the two white numbers, 9 and 7. “This is Celestial Pacific light freight locomotive #97, the exact locomotive Fire Stoker was in charge of the day of the accident. The very same locomotive in which he was nearly killed when the bridge he was crossing, the Dragon Tooth River Bridge, partly collapsed underneath him while he was crossing it, thus starting the chain reaction that lead to one of the region’s most expensive rail accident and left an engineer from the Crystal Empire dead.” 

The tension in the room began to rise once more, as Twilight shut off her spell and continued, “I’ve talked with not only Fire Stoker and his fire stallion Coal Dust, but many of the other ponies working in the Smokey Mountains who interacted with them on the day of the accident. From what I’ve heard, many strange things happened that day, all centered around Fire Stoker’s run. Among these was the fact that the Vanhoover yard master was informed that the maintenance slow order put in place on the area around the bridge had been lifted, information that he then passed on to Fire Stoker. Information that I found to be completely false. Work had barely been started on the damaged span of the bridge by the time Fire Stoker hit it on his return trip to Tall Tale. But, the most interesting thing I found was that all of these events and changes that have occurred over the last four years are all connected, with one common goal in mind. The destruction of Fire Stoker!” 

That brought around a proper gasp from the collection of ponies, including myself. Twilight then walked up to where Blueblood sat sweating in his seat, “It was just taking too long for your liking wasn’t it Blueblood? So you decided to speed the process up, take care of the problem for good hmm?" Blueblood continued to sweat in his seat under the full gaze of the entire courtroom and both Princesses, until finally, he caved, “He was just supposed to quit!” He finally yelled. 

The largest gasp of the day went up at that one sentence, and Celestia’s full gaze fell to the blubbering Prince, “I-I mean he was just supposed to get angered to the point of quitting. It was never meant to go this far, but he just wouldn’t leave!” 

“Well why did you want me out of the way so damn bad!” I yelled back, my anger finally boiling over. 

With a smirk full of confidence, Twilight was more than happy to supply the answer. 

Levitating another folder out of her saddle bags, and presented it to Celestia once again. Celestia quickly went over the contents of the folder, her eyes growing wider with ever sentence she read. 

For those not reading, Twilight was happy to explain, “In that folder holds the reason why the nobles wanted Fire Stoker off the railway. That document states that Fire Stoker, at the ripe old age of eight years old, became the fifth owner of the Tall Tale Mountain Short Line, receiving equal ownership, power, and decision making by share number, as the four owners who signed it, Ditchlight, Bulkhead, High Ball, and Hotbox.” That sent up another gasp from the Tall Tale ponies in attendance, including myself. 

I looked over to Hotbox, only to see him smile at me, and then wink at the other owners, who happily smiled and nodded back. It was at this point Twilight decided to continue once again, “Ironically, this document was signed just four days prior to Hotbox being arrested under his false charges. Because of his arrest under such high charges, his ownership in the company, and thus the decision power of his shares, were given to the crown, who would normally sign it back to the railways other owners. But, instead, the ownership was bought and passed to Blueblood and his other noble conspirators. Then, slowly over the next fifteen years, the nobles bought up the trackage rights leading to the ones owned by the short line, allowing them to push their noses further into the railway’s business without actually acting, since anything they tried to push forth would have been struck down by the other four owners with their combined stack in the company. They did all of this so they could try to fly under the radar of the company’s three primary owners still remaining, Ditchlight, Bulkhead, and High Ball. Problem is, they failed. Once the three owners caught wind of what the nobles were planning, they began funneling their stake in the company to Fire Stoker bit by bit. When Bueblood and the other nobles finally approached them to purchase their stakes in the company, they agreed, but their plan had already been carried out. When they finalized the sale to the nobles, for 30 millions bits each, they passed over the smallest percent ownership currently allowed by law, five percent. Of course Blueblood and the others didn’t learn about this until they went to try and have the railroad transferred to them, and were shocked to find that they only owned 35 percent of the company, the other 65 being held by Fire Stoker.” 

I sat in my seat in a complete state of shock, just trying to process what I had just learned. Not only had I been made an owner of the railway when I was eight bucking years old, but for at least the last four years I had been the primary owner, and I never even knew! 

While I tried to restart my brain, Twilight continued to push her assault, “But there was a loophole that they found with the forms that implemented Fire Stoker’s ownership. No where on the contract is there a signature from Fire Stoker. It makes sense why when you think of the original intentions, it was supposed to be a surprise for him, and by Equestrian law, that is perfectly legal. However, once Fire Stoker became the primary owner of the railroad, things got more complicated. To remain the primary owner of the railway without his signature being given, Fire Stoker had to remain an employee of the railroad, with a clean legal record. If either of these were breached, Fire Stoker would lose his part of ownership, and it would be passed to the next largest owner, a.k.a. Blueblood and his noble friends. Or of course, he could just meet his maker in a railway accident.” 

Twilight returned her attention to a now heavily sweating Blueblood, “So, Blueblood, which one were you going for first? Or did you just go for all three and wait to see which one worked the fastest?” 

“All he needed to do was quit! Even if he knew of his ownership, we knew he wouldn’t sign over the line rights to us! His stubbornness would have held up the process of uniting the nation with one major rail company!” Blueblood yelled, trying to defend his actions. 

There was a few seconds pause, before a small chuckle began to fill the courtroom. 

Then, it began to grow louder, and louder.

Everypony turned and stared as they caught sight of Hotbox trying his best not to hit the floor from laughing. I found it kinda weird to see him laughing at such a heavy situation. Once he started to calm down and finally regain himself, he spoke, “That’s what this was all about? Building some big national railroad ran by yourselves? Do you really think that some big government run railway is how we fix our problems? By Holy Faust how crazy are you? I will admit, even before I got locked up I could see that there were problems on the other roads. I’ve only seen them get worse since then. Our problem isn’t that we have too many too many ponies running the roads, its that we can’t see all our problems at the same time. That’s why I came up with an idea, a way to make it easier for all the railroads to communicate and figure out what our problems are and how to fix them. I called the system, The Guild of Equestrian Railwaymen, something that I proposed to Princess Celestia just a week before my arrest. A meeting I know for a fact you overheard, and one I know you saw as a threat to your control over and income from the railroads. Tell me I’m wrong.” He finished with a cocky smirk directed at Blueblood. 

It was at this point, Princess Celestia had heard enough, “Prince Blueblood. Your actions in the pursuit of monetary gain have led to injury, destruction, and death, be it intentional or not. Your voluntary actions ruined the lives of hundreds of ponies, all to increase the numbers in your income line. For that, I place you under arrest. You shall go to trial the moment we know the full depths of your actions. Until then, you shall be held at Canterhorn Correctional Facilities, with no chance of bail. Guards!” A flabbergasted Blueblood then found himself being himself being hauled out of the courtroom by two of Celestia’s guards. 

Celestia then turned her attention to a still smirking Hotbox, “Hotbox. For the last nineteen years, you have suffered alone for no reason. From the information I have seen, the charges filed against you were completely falsified. Yet, by the power invested in me, I grant you a full royal pardon to be effective immediately.” 

She then turned to me, “And Fire Stoker. I cannot imagine what you have went through in the last few years because of the actions of a greedy few. From what I have seen, I hereby declare you, not guilty. Considering this situation, once the trial against Blueblood has concluded, his ownership of the company will be passed to you. Until then, himself and the other nobles who have helped him will begin paying you back all they bits in revenue from the railway that you have rightfully been owed for the last four years, all 27.9 billion bits. Court is adjourned!” 

I’m used to loud noises, kinda comes with working on the railroad, but the roar that went up among the ponies inside and outside the courtroom; yes outside, turns out they had been broadcasting the trial over the radio and I could actually hear them, deafened even me. 

Coal Dust cleared the wall that was dividing the room, landing on me in a flying tackle, “Ya did it Stokes! Ya bucking did it!” He yelled over the roar of the courtroom as he hugged me while I was still on the floor. Eventually he did help me up, only for me to get piled on by every Tall Tale and rail pony that had been in the room. 

Eventually I was able to break out of the pony pile to find Hotbox, prison jumpsuit removed and sitting on the desk Blueblood had been sitting behind just a few short minutes earlier. I couldn’t stop a smile from forming on my face as I walked over and hugged him for the first time in 19 years.The old stallion chuckled as he hugged me back, “Nice to see you too Stokes.” He said in a low, happy voice.

When we finally broke apart, Hotbox couldn’t help himself but say, “Caused a bit of a ruckus while I was gone, didn’t you?” I had to laugh, “Yeah, you could say that.” We both shared a good laugh, before my face fell and I had to ask, “Why?” 

Hotbox raised an eyebrow at me as all the other ponies emptied from the courtroom, leaving me alone with my grandfather. “Why what?” 

He asked. “Why did you just sit alone in a cell for 19 years and not say anything? Why did you just sit and do nothing? Why did you make me an owner of the railway when I was eight years old?” 

Hotbox sat there and thought for a second, “I guess it’s because I knew my time would come. I knew complaining wouldn’t get me very far, so I just sat back and waited for my time to come. Took a little while, but it came all the same.” He then smiled at me, “And the reason I made you an owner is very simple. Myself and your father worked our flanks off so that I could support him, and he support you and your mother, and so that we all could have a happy life. We both felt that you deserved to never worry about such stupid things as bits, so we came up with the plan together. And we did it because we could see the look in your eyes any time you were around the railroad. We knew that you wouldn’t be able to get away from that life just like we weren’t. We knew how big the railway was growing, and we knew that being a co-owner of it would let you be able to live your life however you wanted, and never have to worry about a thing. Never thought any of this would happen, but it worked out in the end now didn’t it?” He finished with another chuckle. 

“That it did.” Said another voice behind me. 

I jumped a bit and turned to find Princess Celestia herself standing right behind me. 

Hotbox on the other hoof, just smiled and nodded, “Nice to see you again you Majesty.” 

Celestia’s face fell, “Hotbox, I am truly sorry for everything you’ve been through over the last few years. I..” Hotbox stopped her with a wave of a hoof, “It’s fine your Majesty. You had no real way knowing what was going on. I knew everything would workout fine in the end, and it did. So, I say we just put all of this behind us eh?” 

Celestia let her smile return, “You are one of a kind Hotbox. But yes, I believe you are right. Let us put all this hate and bad blood behind us.” She then motioned towards the doors to the throne room, “Now, let’s leave this place of anger. From what I have been told you have quite the group of ponies waiting to see you again Fire Stoker.” 

I smiled and nodded, “Gladly.” 

With that, the three of us turned and exited the room. After the quick walk down the haul, we were met with the main doors to the castle, which Celestia happily opened with a flick of her magic. As the doors opened, the ponies outside broke into cheers once again at the sight of me and Hotbox. I smiled as I rushed forward and was once again embraced by my railroad family. I was the happiest I had been in a long long time. 

For the first time in years, my life was out from under the rule of the noble hoof, I was back in control of my life, and I never had to worry about bits again. But more importantly, I could return home and help my railroad family rebuild what we had once had. 

It was one of the best days of my life. 

For hours we stayed in Canterlot and celebrated, we had good reason to after all. But, all good things had to come to an end at some point. So, as the day grew old and night began to show its head, the group split so ponies could catch trains back to their hometowns. 

That thought made me question something, so I turned to Coal Dust who was walking at my side, “How did all of you get down here anyways.” Dusty smirked, “Oh, just wait and see.’ He said with an ominous chuckle. 

As we got closer to Canterlot Station, I noticed a long passenger train sitting at the platform being let by two “Big Sixes”. I did a quick count of the cars, “Three, four, five, damn forty seven cars. You guys needed a lot of space.” Coal Dust laughed, “Well, that’s what happens when you gotta get eleven hundred ponies to the same place. Now come on, we saved you a spot up in the first car.” 

I nodded and motioned for Hotbox to follow, but he shook his head, “No, you go catch up with your friends. Your mother, the big six, and me have a few things to talk about.” By the big six, he meant the railways old owners and their foals. Even though it meant I couldn’t immediately fully catch up with my grandfather, I felt that since I waited 19 years, I could wait a few more hours. 

I smiled and nodded, “Alright, but feel free to stop up and chat.” Hotbox smiled back, “I just might have to do that.” With that, we all boarded the train. Half an hour later we were well underway into the journey back home, and me and my friends had spent the whole time talking about what we could now do to help the railway. 

But as I heard the engines up front snort as they charged at one of the grades in front of us, a thought came to my mind. “Hey Torch, you got your harmonica on you.” Blow Torch laughed as he reached his good hoof into one of his denim pockets, “Like I would leave my house without it.” He said as he pulled it out. 

The old harmonica had seen better days, its wood and metal scratched, and covered in layers of axle grease, but it still sounded as good as the day Torch bought it when he was six years old. 

The others quickly caught on, “Oh no, here we go guys. Stokes what to do sing song again.” I laughed, “Oh come on! We haven’t done something like this in a while. And I think an old favorite is in store.” The others laughed, and without me having to say anything, they knew exactly what song I had in mind. 

“You think you can play that thing with only one hoof Torch?” Red asked. Torch laughed, “I think I’ll manage. Y’all ready?” We nodded, so he struck up the tune. As we let the first notes play out, I looked over at Dusty, who cocked a smile. The two of us always started of this song. 

When the note hit, me and Dusty cut in right on cue, “Smoke in my eyes, soot in my mane, cinders under my hooves. I’m watching the needle falling away and singing the eight freight blues!” 

Crankshaft and Ash Pan, always the ones to go next, hit their note perfectly, “Well we’re running late in a sorry state on 7218, she’s over do for boiler work and I can’t get her to steam. With a thousand tons of coal behind and a tender full of black, dispatch sent me to Hoofington and now they won’t answer back.” 

This time, Blastpipe took the chorus, “Smoke in my eyes, soot in my mane, cinders under my hooves! I’m watching the needle falling away and singing the Tall Tale Blues!” 

Smoke Box, and surprisingly Fire Box, took the next set, “Now across the cab the driver sits and he’s staring straight ahead. He hasn’t shut his mouth in the eight months since I started at the shed. But he’s drawn a line across the cab for each of us to stand, since he learned I liked the Cloudsdale puffs while he was a Baltimare fan.” 

The rest of us laughed as Smoke Box punched Fire’s arm and Red Hot took the chorus, “Well smoke in my eyes, soot in my mane, cinders under my hooves! I’m watching the needle falling away and singing the Olde Grade Blues!” 

This time, it was our turn again, but we were surprised to hear another voice cut in, “Well I fired her thin and piled it in, but still she wouldn’t go.” We turned and were surprised to see Iron sides and Sand Dome walking in, Iron singing right on key, “When the drive pins dropped we were forced to stop on the main line or blow.” He smiled as he sat down in at one of the seats nearby us, Sand Dome following suit. “I smashed the clankers, used some fire, tried every trick I know. But they bent at the start and those back shop farts blamed us for their new woe.” 

We all laughed again, this time letting Sand Dome contribute and take the chorus, “Smoke in my eyes, soot in my mane, cinders under my hooves. I’m watching the needle falling away and singing the late freight blues!” 

With the last “solo” chorus upon us, Dusty and I were more than happy to take our turn, “With a one in sixty drop ahead and our loco out of sight, we had to stop and close the spot to save other ponys’ life. The load came upon the engine, while her line was showing green. We went looking for the engine, but a wreck was all to be seen.” 

Crankshaft and Ash took the last “solo” chorus, “Smoke in my eyes, soot in my mane, cinders under my hooves. I’m watching the needle falling away and singing the no brake blues!” 

We all smiled, and took the last stanza together, “Well the owners come from Canterhorn and their greed we can’t describe! They only know how to money steal with their wallets open wide! We can’t change their budget, and our line is damn near dead! We wish their balls would turn to bulldogs and bite the sods to death!” 

And with the song near over, all our voices rose for the final two chorus, “Smoke in my eyes, soot in my mane, cinders under my hooves. I’m watching the needle falling away and singing the eight freight blues!” “Smoke in my eyes, soot in my mane, cinders under my hooves. I’m watching the needle falling away and singing the eight freight blues!” With a final tear on his harmonica, Blast Pipe ended the song with a joyful cheer from everypony else in the coach. 

As my friends laughed and congratulated themselves on another group song nailed, I looked around at all of them. All of these ponies, who I could happily call friend, all of them supporting me during one rough patch in my life or another, and all of them happy to see me come out the other side in one piece. 

They were the reason I hadn’t simply faced fate and let all of this happen. Them, my friends, my railroad family, the ponies who helped me understand where I belonged in this world, they were the reason that I had been able to get through all of this. And now, I could properly repay them for all their help, by giving them the lives back that they worked so hard to get, that they deserved. 

I smiled as I let Dusty wrap a forehoof around me and drag me closer to the group as Blow Torch struck up a fast tempo on his harmonica, just a little solo for himself that we were all happy to listen to. As he worked the instrument like a pro, even while only being able to use one hoof, I my smile grew. 

I could finally give back to the family that had given my blood family everything, but even more, I could go back to being the one thing that made me the happiest in the world. 

A colt with a train.
> Epilogue: Family With A Railway
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took nearly two months to fully assemble the case against Blueblood, who spent that time in CCF along with his other five cohorts. When he finally went to court, he was charged with and found guilty of a whole host of charges. 

They were, and this is a long list, and it’s been a few years so bear with me, 2 counts of false imprisonment, 93 counts of forgery, 86 counts of bribery, perjury, 137 counts of ponyslaughter in all three degrees, 2,144 counts of neglect, 2,144 counts of reckless endangerment (one for each of the original employees of the railway), severe violations of workplace safety regulation, embezzlement of an extreme degree (that charge was invented just for him), impersonating a government official, impersonating royalty (turned out he forged Celestia’s signature both of the times he sent guards to Tall Tale), fraud, conspiracy, and treason against the crown. 

Just a small fraction of these charges would have put Blueblood away for life, so needless to say he was sentenced to life in prison. His conspirators weren’t hit with all of these charges as well, but the 2,144 counts of neglect and endangerment were enough to secure their own spots in prison on their own life sentences. 

I find it somewhat ironic that, while his conspirators were to carry out their sentences at CCF, Blueblood was to carry out his at the Vanhoover Correctional Facility, a facility that just so happened to be located near to the track we owned that ran through Vanhoover and then up to the Crystal Empire.

I’m sure he loved hearing the sounds of what caused his downfall everyday he spent in his own solitary confinement cell. 

But enough about him, I’ve said my peace about what I think about him. Once we made it back to Tall Tale, I wasted no time doing two things. First, signing my name on my ownership document, so that nopony got the idea to try this again. And second, I hooved control of the railway back to Spotlight, Bulk Jr., and Big Red. 

We split the ownership evenly, just like it had been once upon a time when it was controlled by Ditchlight, Bulk Senior, High Ball, and Hotbox. While I had not problem with taking over control of the railway in time, I wasn’t ready for it yet. After we had that squared away, and the bits I was owed started flowing in from the nobles, there were a lot of things that needed attention on the line. 

The first thing that we addressed was the reconstruction of the Dragon Tooth River bridge. While that was going on, the other important fact concerning the condition of the roster, specifically, the recommissioning of both all the HG-10’s and TT-8’s that had spent the “four years of tyranny”, as we ended up calling it, behind the Tall Tale backshops. 

It took nearly a year before the line’s equipment and track was back up to spec with what we had back before the noble take over. The railway’s old employee’s even began coming back to take up their old jobs, which both Red Hot and Blow Torch appreciated as both of their shops were slammed with work rebuilding engines for nearly eight months. The first engine to have her rebuild completed was #9366, a bit of a thank you from the backshop ponies to me for saving the railway. 

As the years carried on, the railway returned to its prime, and we were happy to see that. There really wasn’t much left in the way of evidence that hinted to the noble’s control, with the only remaining evidence being the rebuilt #3800, which we bought off the Appaloosan and Southern and put to service ourselves, and the crumpled remains of #97 and #771, the Crystal Northern 2-10-4. #97 and #771 were not rebuilt like #3800, as they were kept as reminders to the incident that helped save the line, and nearly destroyed it at the same time. 

But, as time went on, and the railway grew, things changed. Four years after the noble expulsion from the railway, things had grown so much that not only did the roster need to grow again, but so did the shops. Even though Blow Torch had been able to manage as the chief mechanic of the Tall Tale backshops for years, with the size increase of the shops, he needed help in managing it. 

Red Hot, despite the fact that her home had been the Vanhoover shops since she started working for the railway, was all too happy to move across the mountain to Tall tale to lend him a hoof. This had the added effect of me being able to spend more time with her. Well one thing led to another as they often do, and three years later, I married Heat Temper, with our first born coming two years later, and our second three years after that. 

We named our Hotbox after my grandfather, who was nearly in tears when we told him the news, and our second after myself. Speaking of my grandfather, after his return to Tall Tale, he had a new house built nearby the dispatch center.

He didn’t return to running engines, but he was more than happy to help in running the line, up until he passed away in his sleep 37 years later, at the age of 98. 

It was hard saying goodbye to him for good, but I was just happy to know that he had spent his final years around the ponies he loved. Anyways, back to the changing times on the railway. 15 years after we re-took control of the line, a new main line was built through the Smokey Mountains linking Tall Tale and Vanhoover, one that was not as steep as The Olde Grade. 

This led to much of the passenger traffic the line handled being sent along the new main, which was nicknamed, “The Fast Hills Line”. The Olde Grade was still used, but it was most relegated to freight traffic. But, as time moves on, advancements come, and older tech is replaced. Diesels appeared on the nation’s railways about ten years before Hotbox’s passing, and their advantages over steam were easy to see. 

But, despite their lists of advantages over steam power, I was never a huge fan of them, and neither were many of the other railway workers. We kept steam power around as long as we could, and became the last Class A railroad to have a fully steam roster in the nation.

Yet, we could not hold out forever, and eventually, we were forced to faced facts, and switched from steam power, to diesel traction. Diesel power took over The Fast Hills Line first, before eventually claiming the freight traffic over The Olde Grade. 

The last steam hauled train to travel the metals of The Olde Grade was a 5 mile long iron ore train, from Vanhoover to Tall Tale. It was like a reenactment of history, with 9366 and 9329 leading a train over The Olde Grade that only their class could handle. Myself, Coal Dust, Smoke Box, and a much more experienced Fire Box were of course given the honor of running commanding our two HG-10’s at the head end. 

Along with us, I had Hotbox, Red, and my two sons Hotbox and Fire Stoker Jr. in the cab of ‘66 with me and Dusty, while Smoke and Fire Box were more than happy to have Ash Pan, Crankshaft, and Blastpipe ride with them. It was set up perfectly so that the run fell on the day of my 50th anniversary of working for the railway, and when we arrived in Tall Tale and hooved over the train to the yard crew, it was with solemn hearts that Myself, Dusty, Ash, Crank, Blastpipe, and Smoke Box retired from running trains. 

It was a sad day for the railway to lose all of us on the same day, but with each of us serving for at least 50 years, except for Dusty at 49, we had earned our retirement. 

Sadly, it would be later that year that Hotbox passed, it was a rough year for all of us. 





“Wait, so you only retired 12 years ago?” I looked over at my 10 year old grandson, Fire Stoker the third, or Little Stokey as we had taken to calling him. We were sat next to the southbound track on The Olde Grade, taking a break from the hike we had been doing for the last five days. 

Over that time, I had been telling him the story that I passed down to all my children and grandchildren, the story of how I “saved” the railway. I never felt it was really me who saved it, I was just in the right place, at the right time, with the right resources backing me up. But, no matter what I felt, all the other ponies of the Smokey’s felt it was me who saved the line. 

I nodded as I stood up, “Well, retired from running trains at least. I took over running the railway properly, with the help of your uncle. Your father only recently joined me in the office, you were only six when he started helping.” 

I stretched a bit before motioning for him to stand as well, “Come on, there’s not much left before the summit, we’ll get there today.” Little Stokey nodded, and followed after me. This hike was something I had taken both of my children, and all four of my other grandchildren already, Little Stokey was the last one left I needed to complete it with. Even though I was now getting on into my late seventies, the hike didn’t slow me down, and I could still pull my weight like a 30 year old back shop colt. 

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Little Stokey spoke up again, “So, what happened to the steam roster?” 

I sighed, “Well, unforchunetly, because of how big of a roster we had at the time we ended steam, we couldn’t save all the locomotives. Even some of the HG-10’s and TT-8’s were sent to meet the cutter’s torch. It broke my heart to do that. But, surprisingly few of them met that fate, only 13 TT-8’s and 9 HG-10’s were scrapped, most of the remaining engines we sold to Crystal Northern. They still use them on their fast supply trains and long bulk drags from the northern mines. Never really were able to find diesel units that could handle both the severe cold and long trains. However, two HG-10’s and one TT-8 currently reside in the National Railway Museum in Canterlot.” 

I glanced over my shoulder to see Little Stokey’s confused face, “Which ones are in the NRM?” I turned around and flashed a big smile, “Only the record breaking trio themselves, #9366, #9329, and #9414.” I saw Little Stokey’s eyes light up, “#9366 is in the NRM!” 

I chuckled, “Yes, yes she is. We couldn’t let the world record trio go to the scrap yard. So when the NRM approached me to purchase them when news got around that the engines were up for sale, I was more than happy to work with them. I didn’t even charge them for the engines, I was just happy to know that they were safe.” That’s when I let my smile grow, “I was actually going to introduce you to the three of them when you come with me and your dad to the Guild Assembly in two months.” 

The Guild Assembly was the name of the bi-yearly meeting of all the representatives of the Guild Of Equestrian Railwaymen. My grandfather’s plan had been put into action two years after the whole fiasco with Blueblood, and ever since, it had been a great tool at helping the railways of the nation run smoothly. Every railway in the nation, from the biggest lines covering hundreds of miles to the smallest that barely covered ten miles, had a representative in the Guild. Along with this, the nation was broken into six regions, each having their own representative. 

I became, and still was, the rep for the T.T.M.S.L., and Hotbox was the rep for the Smokey Mountain region, until his retirement a few years before his death. After that, control of the region was passed to Coal Dust’s son, Crushed Ash, by recommendation of Hotbox. 

He hadn’t recommended either of his great-grandchildren because we had both decided that one of them would take over my position as the railway’s rep when I eventually retired. 

So, when all was said and done, the assembly was made up of around 35 ponies, each of us with decades of railroading experience, and we all had one goal in mind, keeping the railways running to the best of our abilities. Along with us, were Equestria’s three Princesses, Celestia, Luna, and Twilight, along with Princess Cadence of the Crystal Empire. She came because we had members of the Guild in the Empire, and it was always nice to see them, learn how their HG-10’s and TT-8’s were holding up. 

It still got a chuckle out of me when the Princesses would pull me aside at the end of the Assembly and thank me, apparently our meetings were on a very short list that the Princesses actually enjoyed attending. Even though Luna, and to a degree Twilight, were the only ones who were actually interested in the different railroads like we were, they all loved the assembly for one reason. That was the fact that everything was very laid back. 

When all was said and done, under the mask of being a conference on the running of the nation’s railways, the Assembly was just a bunch of common rail ponies coming together to help each other. No nobles, no games, not political goals. It had been quiet nerve-racking in the first few years of Assembly, what with being in the presence of the Princesses and all. 

But after a while, we were able to get over that hump, and now it was like we were all friends in a bar after getting off shift, Princesses included. The Princesses had really gotten into the swing of things when they stopped wearing their regalia to the Assemblies, doing their best to appear as just another member of the Guild. 

It still blew all our minds that the Princesses not only enjoyed, but waited with anticipation for those two times of the year to come around. Hearing that always put a smile on my face, made me feel like we were doing things right. 

I watched as Little Stokey’s eyes lit up, and a massive grin grew on his face, “You’re taking me to the Guild Assembly!” I couldn’t help but grin and chuckle at my grandson, “Yes, you’re coming with us when we go. Now come on, we only have a bit left.” He nodded, and we began our hike again. 

But a few minutes later, Little Stokey spoke up again, “Wait, you never fully answered my question, what happened to the rest of the roster?” “Well, as I said, we couldn’t save all of them, but we did save a fair few of them. When we finally dropped steam, we had 493 engines on our roster. 307 of them survive to this day, and 187 of them are in operational condition if I remember correctly.” After that, we continued our walk in silence for awhile, reaching the end of the Tall Tale side of The Olde Grade. 

As we rounded a corner, we caught sight of the signal bridge that was set before the switch for the summit’s single track. “Is that the signal bridge you got suck under with #3800?” I nodded, “Yep, that’s the one. There’s no evidence left from that day, it was all destroyed when we rebuilt The Grade. All that’s left is the plague that we put up.” I said, motioning towards the metal plague welded to the signal bridge. 

“Why did you put all of these plagues up? I understand the ones used to mark the sites where crews were lost, but what about the others?” 

I sighed, and motioned for him to sit down on the rail with me, “It’s because we didn’t want ponies to forget. Almost all the plagues detail accidents that happened during the nobles’ control of the line. There are only 28 plagues on this side of The Grade, but there are 89 on the Vanhoover side. 41 on Nightmare alone.  We wanted the ponies who run this line then, now, and in the future to understand the risks, but also remember who these ponies we lost were, and be proud to be following in their hoofsteps. Not all of them represent an accident that resulted in death, but each one represents what happens when the respect that a railway needs and deserves is lost. That’s why I’ve pushed that respect on you, your siblings, and your Dad and Uncle. We still put these plagues up when wrecks happen, as no pony is perfect, and the last thing I ever want is to see any of your names grace one.” 

I finished my speech, and let the weight of my words sink in. Even though Little Stokey was only 10 years old, I felt it was important for him to understand the risks the life myself, and much of his family lived. We sat there for some time in silence, just staring at #3800’s plague, before Little Stokey eventually broke the silence again, “Grandpa Fire Stoker, did, did you ever lose any friends?” 

”Of course he had to ask that.” I said to myself with a sigh. “Well, everyone on this line is a friend to me, my second family. But if you’re asking about close friends like Dusty, or Ash, or Crankshaft, than, yes, yes I did. When the war with Arabia broke out, I watched many of my friends go off to serve, and some didn’t make it back. When I eventually went to serve in the engineer’s corps as an engine drive, I made friends with most of the ponies I served with, and even some of those didn’t make it back. Hell, even Dusty and I came close to not returning. But, outside that, yes, I lost friends to wrecks. Yet, I don’t let the lose of my friends weigh me down. I’m still here, so they still live on through me. I have many a tall about them, and one day I’ll tell you all of them, much like I have with your father, Uncle, and started with your siblings and cousins, so that they may live on through all of you when I’m gone. And I know for a fact, if you father was here with us, and not back at dispatch covering for me, he’d tell you that the stories are well worth the wait. I worked on the railway for five decades, so I have plenty to still tell you.” 

I then stood up, “Now, enough of this sad stuff, we’re almost on the summit, and there’s a Northbound train coming.” Little Stoker stared at me, shocked, “How can you tell it’s Northbound.” I smiled as I turned towards the summit, “Five decades.” was all I said as I walked off. “Hey! Wait for me!” Little Stokey yelled as he ran to catch up with me. 

We soon made it to the Tall Tale Summit box, and I waved to the pony standing ready at the levers, who happily returned the wave. Hazard had retired 19 years back, and it was now his son, Quick Stop, who ran the box. As we took our first steps onto the summit, the train that had been following us came close enough for me to properly listen to. 

I closed my eyes and listened as the locomotive drew closer, paying attention to every creak and sound the aging steam engine made. “2-8-0, C-25 class. Summit Lumber only has three of those. #882 is down for rebuild, and #895 blew a cylinder yesterday, so that leaves #896.” Sure enough, just then #896 pounded by with a load of empty log flats. “Before you even ask, five decades” I said over my shoulder as I could just imagine my grandson’s face. “Come on, we’re just about there.” 

We walked along in silence for quite some time, till it finally came into view. The Dragon Tooth River Bridge, sitting there in all its massive glory. “That’s really it?” LIttle Stokey asked. “Yep, that’s Dragon Tooth alright.” I said as I stopped at the start of the bridge, looking out over the massive chasm that was the river. “You and your friends used to jump off of this? For Fun?” My grandson asked, as he took note of how tall the bridge was. 

I gave a short laugh, “Yes we did. I told you we were a bunch of dare devils when we were young.” I then stepped onto the bridge, and started to walk across the wooden planks, “Come on, just a tad left.” “Wait, what? I thought this was why we were coming here.” Littler Stokey called to me as I continued across the bridge. “It was part of it, but there’s one more thing I have to show you while we’re up here. We just have to get to the lumber yard.” 

Eventually, Little Stokey caught up with me and we crossed the bridge together. Right after crossing the bridge, we came across a wye-switch that was distinctly newer than the rest of the summit track. I turned to the right along the wye, when I heard the slight chuffing coming from up the little long branch. “Watch out, fully loaded logger coming back.” We stepped off to the side of the line in just enough time to see #896 slowly coming around the corner, running tender first with a load of full log flatcars. 

I waved to the engineer as he leaned out the window of his tired engine. He smiled at me, and blew the whistle of The Guild, short low, long high, short low, long high, long short, short high. It was kinda hard to find railponies now-a-days who didn’t know The Guild whistle code, or me to that extent. 

As the slowly moving log train passed us, Me and Little Stokey continued our walk towards the lumber yard. As we walked into the tiny main tard of the logging facility, I waved to some of the log ponies as they ran their machines, loading up the empty log flats that #896 had just brought up. They were all to happy to return the wave with a smile. 

We quickly made our way over to the straight, eight berth doorless engine shed. The two other 2-8-0’s, #882 and #895 sat at the far left of the engine shed. #882 was in a very early state of overhaul tear down, and #895 had its right cylinder and linkage removed. The other five occupied berths held a 0-6-0 camelback, two “modern” 4-4-0’s, and a 2-6-2 tank that was currently in the process of being steamed up. 

Though diesel traction was the main motive power of the nation’s railway, many small logging and mining railways like this one still used steam power, as acquiring the engines and parts for them was cheaper than diesels. 

“What are we doing here?” Little Stokey asked as we set hoof in the engine shed. I waved to the 2-6-2’s fire lighter before turning back to my grandson, “All will be revealed in just a moment. But before I explain everything, I have a question for you. Does the number of T.T.M.S.L. survivors seem, unusually high to you?” 

I saw him think it over for a second before he responded, “Yeah, it does seem rather high. Most railways have 50 or less survivors from their steam days.” 

I ruffled his mane with a smile, a true railway fanatic, just like his father. Seemed that it ran in the family. 

“You’re right.” I said as I lead us over to a door built into the wall at the back of the engine shed. “Do you ever remember your father griping about some project of mine.” He nodded. “Well, this is what he was talking about.” I said as I opened the door.

“Sweet Celestia and Luna.” Little Stokey mumbled under is breath. Behind the door was a room lit by magic energy bulbs, holding eight tracks that were continuations of the ones that ran into the engine shed. Each track was stuffed from end to end, with steam engines. “What is this place?” Little Stokey asked in amazement as he looked around the massive room that seemed to stretch for miles into the side of the mountain. 

“This, is my version of a treasure room. This is where millions of bits that I was paid by the nobles went, but it was well worth it to me. This room contains the first, and last member of every engine class owned by the T.T.M.S.L. during its era of steam. But it’s not just Tall Tale engines in here, there are a few interesting standouts as well. Would you believe it if I said this room holds the only other intact Mammoth Class locomotive besides the one in the NRM?” “Really?” Stokey asked, a glint in his eyes. “Yep. This is the largest private collection of locomotives on the whole of Equis. As I said, it’s not all Tall Tale engines, but they are the majority.” 

Even as he looked around in amazement, I could see the look of confusion slowly appear on my grandson's face, “Why did you build this?” “Well, I knew the days of steam were numbered long before we ended steam traffic on the line. And after all the years I had spent around these engines, and their sentimental value to the entire railway, I just couldn’t see it go to waste. I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do with all of them, but my goal is to make them all rail ready one day. After that, well time will decided that.” 

It was then we heard a loud clang, and then a shout, “Son of a!” come from further in. I recognized the voice immediately, and began to walk further in, closely followed by Little Stokey. 

We walked down one of the rows towards the sounds of somepony working on one of the engines. We soon found the source of the noise. Coal Dust sat on the ground, covered in grease, working on a Manehatten Central 4-8-4 Nayagera, which conveniently sat next to the still torn up wreck of #9320. “Well well well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” I said with a chuckle as we walked up behind my aging friend. 

Coal Dust’s head snapped toward us, before he cracked a smile of his own as he stood up, “Oh hey there Stokes, thought I heard somepony.” He then looked down at Little Stokey, “What’s up Fire Ball?” My grandson laughed as Coal Dust used the nickname the whole railway addressed him by. “Hi Uncle Coal Dust. What are you doing?” Coal Dust motioned for ‘Fire Ball’ to sit next to him at the engine’s linkage, which Little Stokey was all too happy to do. 

I watched as my grandson sat next to my best friend as they went through taking apart the Nayagera’s linkage, with a smile on my face. The love for steam still ran through his coal black blood, as it bid with both his father and myself. As I they continued to work, I climbed up into #9320’s cab, and sat down in the engineer’s seat. 

A chill went up my spine as it always did when I sat in that seat, as the last proper engineer to sit in that seat, nearly died in it. 

I sat there for a few minutes, before I shifted over to watch my long time best friend and grandson as they worked. And as I sat there and watched, I smiled to myself. It had been a long hard road, but I finally had what I had always wanted. 

I had saved the family that my grandfather had fought to build, and spread it along to the next generation that had unforchunetly grown up without him. 

And as I sat there, smiling down at the new generation of rail rider slowly building inside my grandson, I felt as if Hotbox himself was looking down on me along with Bulkhead, Ditchlight, and High Ball, all smiling as I helped carry on the legacy of their line, their organization, and their railroad family.





Fire Stoker would go on to live for another 27 years, before passing peacefully in his sleep, much like his grandfather had. 

When he passed, the railway was passed down to my father and my uncle, and one day it will be passed down to me, my sister, and my cousins. But for now, I am simply an engineer, for I can only run the railway right if I know what the average worker goes through. 

My grandfather left behind his legacy and his locomotive collection when he passed, which would come in handy five years after his death. The oil needed to make diesel fuel began to run low, and the nation found itself in a pickle. 

They did not want to just ban ponies from using automobiles, since they didn’t have a good alternative at the time, but they needed to cut back on how much oil was needed. Add onto that the discovery of a huge coal deposit in the Northern territory of the Crystal Empire, one big enough to fuel the nation for over 200 years at minimum, and they found their answer. It was decided that railways would return to the age of steam. 

The operation of diesel traction wasn’t banned, but the price of railway grade diesel rose exponentially, making it more economical to return to steam. 

Thanks to my old grandad, we had a selection of ready to run engines, sitting at the summit, just waiting to be pushed back into service. It was a rough change over, but within two years, the railways of the nation were starting to recover. Now, seven years later, everything is running as ii once did in the era of steam my grandfather loved so much. 

If only he had gotten the chance to see it. 

My name is Fire Stoker the third, or Fire Ball if you ask my co-workers, and I am the new engineer of 9366, and the latest in a long line of legends. One day, I hope I will join the other members of my family in the lines of railway history. But for today, I am simply just, a colt with a train.