Equestrian Rail - The Other Ponies: Tales from My Little Railway

Chapters

Prologue - Part 2
Prologue - Part 3
Prologue - Part 4
Episode 1 - Twilight's First Day
Episode 2 - The Smog in the Orchard
Episode 3 - Enterprising Mare(s)
Episode 4 - Enterprising Mare(s)
Episode 5 - WOOLLYBURR
Episode 6 - The Diesel, The Zebra, and The Spluttershy
Episode 7 - "From Wales, with sneer!"
Intermezzo: Crapcakes
Episode 8 - Trust to Rust
Episode 9 - Trust to Rust
Episode 11 - A Tale of Googly Eyes
Episode 12 - High-Speedo Padding
Episode 13 - The Dicktator
Interlude-I
Interlude-II
Episode 14 - Great, Powerful, Fatal
Episode 15 - Rejects
E.R. Short: Mayan Scenario PHAIL'D
Episode 16 - Hairline Cracks
Episode 17 - The Chaotic and the Uppity
Episode 18 - Deviousness, thy name is...
Episode 19 - Showdown at Canterlot Central
Episode 20 - The Grand Designer
Episode 21 - Head Start
Episode 22 - The Trials No.1.: Flim-Flam-Flop
Episode 23 - The Trials No. 2.: The Coming Storm
Episode 24 - The Trials No. 3.: Gale Force
Episode 25 - The Trials No. 4.: Old Rivals
Episode 26 - Ongoing Feuds
Prologue - Part 1
Prologue - Part 5
Episode 10 - Über Hampering
List of Characters

Prologue - Part 2

As the day turned to night, the visitor and the six mare (and the baby dragon), got up from their seats, and went off into the night.

The ponies promised Alexei a tour around Ponyville, while he promised to let Spike sleep on top of his hat, which he enlarged using his powers...

As they walked down the streets, the mares found themselves in the line of fire of Twilight's auxiliary (read 'unnecessary') explanation.

"...The night is, quite obviously, the best time to for stargazing Princess Luna's work is magnificent, but, due to it's nature, can only be seen at night. This part of the day is also good for quiet, calming walks, you can just relax, and enjoy the silence."

The traveler snorted, trying to cover his chuckle...

"WHAT silence? You've been going on and on AND ON 'til this moment, little pony." he snickered.

The others giggled as Twilight turned her face from them, covering an embarrassed blush and an annoyed look.
Just then, they heard the sound of wings flopping before them.

Looking forward, the ponies gasped, and immediately 'squat down', bowing their heads towards the new visitor, soon followed by Alexei getting on half-knees and bowing forward, one arm bent behind his back, the other across his chest.

"Stand up, my dear friends." a calm, yet authorial, deep female voice called out. As they stood up, their gazes met with the eyes of an ebony-blue alicorn mare, her mane seemingly made of flowing, dark ether of space, naturally tinted blue with sparkling mica in it, thus resembling the night sky. She worn a tiara of some sort, along with bluish glass hoof-shoes. Her cutie mark appeared to be a crescent moon on a black splodge. Across her gently heaving chest was what appeared to be kerchief or the front of a mantle, dark as her fur and also bearing the crescent moon of her cutie mark.

As the six mare's stood up, Twilight began to spoke, but was interrupted.

"Princess..." she began.

"Princess Luna, I believe!" Alexei cut her off "Well, good evening, Your Majesty. - and he bowed again."

"Ah, charmed to meet you!" the night's princess replied "And you are...?"

"Alexei, princess! But I'm also widely known as 'The Traveler'..." the figure smiled.

"Aaah, yeees." Luna smiled back "The Doctor and his assistant of this world had told me so much about you."

"Really?" the visitor's face lit up "I'm glad to hear that, Your Majesty."

"Please, call me Luna." the princess replied, blushing slightly.

The Traveler smiled back, then a slight frown appeared on his face.

"I've also heard The Master is in this world as well." he uttered, glancing around cautiously.

"He is, but he lost most of his memory in this form, and he now believes that the Doctor is merely an old friend of him." the Princess replied, still smiling. Alexei gave a relieved sigh.

"That's good to hear. But what about you?"

Luna's smile turned even brighter, the light of the moon shining from her eyes.

"This world is wonderful. I DID made a few teeny-weeny MAJOR mistakes a thousand years ago or so..." she admitted, sheepishly looking away "But it's all well now, thanks to these grand six mares behind you." she continued, smiling at her friends behind the figure.

The ponies, on the other hand, felt a bit off, after hearing EVERY part of the conversation. They all knew the weird pony know as the Doctor, and recalled the image of another, quite familiar looking blue stallion with a blonde mane and tail, also having a hourglass cutie mark, whom they've all seen at the disastrous Grand Galloping Gala.

But the most queerest of all was that Luna KNEW about this 'Doctor', and she was also aware of the fact he was friends with the wall-eyed pegasus Ditzy Doo (alias Derpy Whooves), and the blue unicorn known as "Romana Colgate", whom also bared a hourglass cutie mark.

However, the next sentence caught them off guard and knocked them up (waked them) from their thoughts.

"Oouh, what a peculiar hat you have there, Traveler!" Luna cooed, eyeing up the sleeping dragon on top of the figure's hat.

"It's the latest fashion, courtesy of Miss Rarity and Miss Twilight Sparkle." Alexei lied, smirking. He then suddenly squat down, allowing the princess to get an eyeful of his head cover.

What she saw was a baby dragon, curled up into an oval shape, snoozing quietly with it's cheeks rosy, hugging his tail...

"A little angel when asleep, I hear them say all the time." the Traveler smiled slyly.

Luna took a gasping inhale and let out a quiet squee of delight.

Suddenly, a cyan pegasus showed up beside them.

"Gee, folks, I don't want to interrupt this comely scene." she spoke, then noticed spike, and quickly whispered 'OhMyGoshhe'sSoADDORABLE!', before shaking her head and straightening her voice - So, I REALLY don't want to break up anything, but, I don't know if you've noticed yet that... How should I put it? WE'RE RIGHT FREAKING BESIDE YOU?!

Rainbow Dash's yell had not only woken up Spike, but successfully knocked Alexei and Luna of their feet - hooves.

As they sat up on the ground, they've came face to face with the cyan pegasus, looking down at them with a blank look.

Although initially feeling anger, Luna only smirked. and took a quiet, deep breath.

"WE THANK THOU FOR WARNING US ABOUT THEE ACT OF UNFORGIVABLE IGNORANCE, FAIR MARE RAINBOW DASH!" for once, a strong urge of laughter could be heard in Luna's Royal Canterlot Voice.

"YES, IT IS GOOD TO SEE HOW WELL SOCIALIZED THIS HUMBLE COMMUNITY IS." Alexei added with an unearthly roar that still had the tranquility of the mighty ocean.

The other five mares couldn't stop laughing as they scraped their friend off from the nearby house's wall...

Other ponies came out, and gazed with utter surprise, as they saw their beloved nightly princess and the mysterious visitor guffawing their lungs out in each other's arms like old friends, as the baby dragon slept soundly on the Traveler's hat, while five of the six mares were giggling as they supported their sixth friend, who was stumbling around with a goofy look on her face.

Soon, the townsfolk began to simper, and a bit later, nearly the entire town was filled with laughter...

******************************************************************************

"So, do you have any, like, GODLIKE powers?" Spike asked. With all that laughter, he was wide awake, and Twilight expected that she'll be doing all the work tomorrow.

"Well, it's complex." Alexei admitted, drinking his black tea. Fluttershy made sure they all had the drink they've fancied. Twilight drank some cheap normal tea, nothing special, Luna requested some special tea, made with the spices 'Shy thought only Zecora uses, AND with milk, both Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash asked for a something strong and sugary, so she made them some Taurus tea (which was basically pure, chemically clean Taurin mixed with sugar and the cheap tea Twilight was having), and soon, they were all hyped, Applejack asked for the classic apple and cinnamon tea, while she herself and Rarity had some refreshing green tea. She also made some black tea for Alexei, and followed his odd receipt to make Spike some "Nutritious Noble Gas Plasma Tea", and he summoned some elements for that, VERY cold, frozen pieces of glass he call solid Xenon, Krypton, and Argon. They smelled weird, looked weird, and she didn't dared to taste the gloving, flame-like tea, but apparently, Spike loved it.

"Please, do tell..." she spoke up now, leaning closer, before taking aback "That is, if you wish, of course..."

The visitor smirked at the yellow pegasus' timidness, then, his face turned serious, as he began.

"My powers could be separated into four manifestations. One is simply power, sort of stunt magic, made for visuals, feats, et cetera, et cetera. The other three manifestations are strongly linked together, and coexist in almost all cases, as they balance each other. The very crude, basic form of MOST of these powers could be found in anybody, pardon, anypony. I only have just a LITTLE more, but I have mastered them beyond all mortal experts of them."

He paused for a moment.

"You should know, that apart from being a normal god, in many worlds, I myself manifested as an evil entity, an anti-god, often titled as "the Devil", and my reign is in most cases known as a fiery, painful place full of suffering souls, known as 'Hell'. Thought I no longer mind what the people of the actual world I'm visiting call me, let me state it to you now, loud and clear, that I'm NOT evil, or at least not necessarily. After all, I'm nothing more than the God of Denial, the sort of reasonable stable point the humble people of each world need, a cruel, yet, sober reality to spice up their 'Eden'."

Another impressive pause.

"My powers, as such, are split up in a form reflecting my nature. There's a positive side, a negative side, and a third... Side. Y'know, the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.

The 'Bad' is often thought to be the strongest, and this side's members are called "The Elements of Hatred". Not a very encouraging name, is it?
The elements are:

Fear, the most ancient, often forming in it's two variants: Fright, also known as Horror, and Dread, also known as Terror. We'll return to the latter later on.

The next one is Fury, also known as Anger, a fierce, yet, majestic element.

Third one is Sorrow, a surprisingly strong, but also calm element.

Fourth in line is Apathy, a dull, overly tranquil element.

The fifth is Grief, not to be mixed up with the third one, as Grief is much more hysteric and also vivid, a force to be recognized.

Number six is Misery, a tricky sort which would take up the faces of all the other elements just to avoid showing itself, while it's always suffering.

The last one is Terror, an almighty, glorified, overpowered element, stronger than all the others, yet, it cannot exist on it's own, and that is very well shown in both the other elements, and within itself."

He examined the mares' expressions, then continued:

"The 'Good side' is the polar opposite of the Bad, and they always exist along side the 'Bad side', to keep the balance. Their presence COULD be HINTED in the Dark elements. The Light ones are know as 'The Elements of Defiance'.

Fear's opposite is Valor, they are equally strong, but Valor is more vigorous and lively than the icy Fear. Also known as 'Bravery'.

The opposite of Fury is Conciliation, also known as 'Forgiveness', also majestic, but more bright and open.

Opposing Sorrow is Joy, both equally calm, collected, and beautiful in their own ways, through Joy is more playful at times. It's other name is 'Happiness'.

Apathy's mirrored by Sensibility, the 'Belief' element, one of the most strongest ones, as Apathy is nearly as strong as Terror. Also known as 'Humility'.

Grief's counter is Rejoice (yes, that's a noun as well), an element that is often underestimated, yet never to be forgotten, as Grief could prove itself to be stronger than what any could bare without something to restrain it. Also know as 'Mirth'.

Misery meets it's match in the ever changing Delight, which is also know on the more sultry side as 'Pleasure'. But unlike Misery's cowardish mascaras, it simply shows multiple sides of itself, revealing it's opposite as well.

And finally, the surly Terror is dwarfed by the element of Freedom, which is exactly what Terror tries to squash with it's full existence, along with all the other Light elements, as they also make up Freedom as much as the Dark ones make up Terror. It cannot truly exist without the others, which leads us to the... Ugh... 'Ugly' side."

He took a deep breath:

"The "Ugly side" consists of seven autologic elements separate from each other, too grim to be on the Light side, too weak to be on the Dark side, but if put together, these elements create a force much more stronger than the other two sides, so they must be contained, stuck between the positive and negative elements, which often makes people believe they're neutral and thus optimal."

He thought for a moment

"They're not. And to prove this even further, they're called "The Elements of Loathing".

The first one is Dare, a warped element made from Fear and Valor, with a daredevil nature, and lack of self respect, very violent and dim-witted.

The second is Disdain, a malicious one, formed from Fury and Conciliation, considered unstable and irritable, prone to sulking.

The third one is considerably worrying, ALMOST the most dangerous: Insanity. With Sorrow's depressive nature and Joy's jubilant behavior, this deranged element is truly horrifying, not to mention unpredictable.

The fourth one is Ignorance, which unlike the simply existing Apathy and the instinctive Sensibility, could be forced and forceful, yet, it shares the awareness of the Light one and the indifference of the Dark one.

The fifth one is the wicked Gloat, a twisted, oddly gleeful element, the unholy "lovechild" of Grief and Rejoice, with faked nobility, unlikable by nature, disagreeable with a superiority complex.

The sixth one is Spite, a malevolent, groveling element, denying most traces of the Dark and Light ones, Misery and Delight, most notably Misery's own humility and Delight's placid dexterousness, making it a surprisingly strong element.

The seventh and last one is Rage, a deadly combination of Terror's totalitarian nature and Freedom's dynamic behavior. Also known as Disorder, breaking the "Last one only has one name" rule, this element's title speaks for itself. It dwarfs the force of all the other derailed elements, known as the Dim ones. It's powers can only be contained by all the positive and negative elements, including Freedom and Terror. It can and WILL exist without the other six elements, and once released, only Terror could stop it, and only Freedom could tame it."

He shook himself, much like a dog, as if the bad thoughts were but water on his fur.

"The elements of Hatred, Defiance, and Loathing can be found in every and each individual in every and each world of the Omniverse, some stronger, some weaker, some better, some worse, some enlightened, some embittered, some... Deranged."

He shuddered again.

"But the truth about these elements is what makes people fear them the most: No matter how Light, Dark or Dim, the manifestations of any of these elements in one person is NOT a mental instability, NOT a supernatural possession and NOT a secret side of said person. No. The elements, both good, bad, and ugly, manifest themselves in the TRUE persona of any, only revealing how people could change, while they're still their self all the time. Thus, they could become their own hero, their own nemesis... And their own fear."

He suddenly became earnest.

"I possess all of them along with my own powers, and I usually call their combined force "The Order of Chaos"."

The others sat silently around their new friend, the Space Lord, the Traveler, the God of Denial and the barer of the "Order of Chaos".

All of this information was hard to digest, and it was so much that in order to comprehend the weight of it, their body gave a repulsive response.

"OW!" they all cried out, putting their hooves to their foreheads, as Fluttershy offered:

"I'll get the Migraine pills."

A bit later, when everypony was sober and painless again, and Luna had left to lower the Moon, they still sat around in the Library.

"Sooo..." Rarity began after she sat still while Spike squirmed himself to him and Twilight, nestling his body comfortably, between the two mares he loved.

"So what?" the Traveler replied, smiling at the adorable scene.

"What are these "trespassers" like?" the white unicorn asked.

Alexei gave a faked frown, then explained:

"Well, it's funny, and I think, if I'd hear this from someone else, I think that person had went mad, or has some sort of strange obsession."

"Why is that?" Twilight asked, suddenly interested.

"Weeeell... It's hard to say." the figure explained, scratching his head "So let's put it this way: They're inanimate objects that came alive, along with a soul, nature and personality..."

"Inanimate objects..." Rainbow Dash pondered "You mean, like pencils, books rocks, or..."

"...And a face..."

"...Or not. So, they're not small. What are they?"

"Machines."

"Robots?" Pinkie Pie asked.

"No, not really... Just... Living machines. Mortal Engines, if you will."

"But what sorta' machines, sugahcube?" Applejack asked.

"Wait and see..." Alexei smirked before chuckling.

Silence fell, as the mares were deep in their thoughts...

Then Fluttershy asked:

"When you listed up the "Order of Chaos"... Why did you gave them "personalities"?"

The others only stared at their friend, before they turned towards the visitor. His face showed nothing but seriousness.

"The reason, my little ponies, is because these elements are within EVERYONE. BUT, through my life so far, and BELIEVE me, that's a LONG time we're talking about, I've NEVER seen anyone, ANYONE, who had the Order of Chaos manifest in themselves... As you and the "trespassers"."

The ponies gasped.

Alexei continued:

"While they're not evil or anything worse than just being... Utter bastards, they possess the Negative elements, the Dark ones greatly, in some cases, more than one possesses the same."

He raised his nonexistent eyebrows.

"You lot? You possess the Positive elements, the Light ones, but there's one barer amiss."

The others looked at each other.

"Who?" Pinkie Pie asked.

"The barer of the Element of Sensibility, slash Humility, slash Belief."

"Why? What do we possess?" Twilight asked "We do possess our world's main source of power: The Elements of Harmony."

Alexei gave it a thought.

"From the Elements of Defiance, you possess..." he then smirked "Ah, but I shouldn't say. I would spoil the "surprise"."

"What surprise?" Pinkie asked, suddenly energized.

"Wait and see..." the Traveler chuckled, then turned serious, once again "What's important is, what could happen if these 'visitors' arrive..."

"Why?" Twilight asked.

"Because if they arrive, inadvertently, your Elements of Defiance and their Elements of Hatred will intervene, turning either you, or them, into the Elements of Loathing, which will have catastrophic results..."

The six mares began to cower, as Alexei continued, his voice becoming theatrical and announcing...

"As it is written by the Book of the Ancients, that once the offspring of Time, Space, Matter and Energy, bearing the descendant forms of the Eternal powers of Shape, Rhyme, Reason, Rationality, Normalcy, Limitation, Purpose, Will and Essence shall clash upon the highest of the chosen Three Worlds!"

And more hysterical and threatening:

"Shall they clash, and the said world will shatter in the great streams of existence, erasing all that it's worth in the entire Creation, deleting all timelines back to where All Paths started, beginning a New, More clear world which will be based on entire new elements and forces, for the sake of this dreadful cataclysm never to happen again!"

...And more distraught and bedlamite:

"SHALL THE ELEMENTS OF HATRED AND DEFIANCE MEET THEIR MATCH IN EACH OTHER ON THE FIELDS OF EQUESTRIA, AND THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT WILL BE SCATTERED, IT'S MORTAL AND IMMORTAL INHABITANTS DRAGGED TO THE DEPTHS OF THE AGONIZING PURGATORY, WHERE THEY WOULD PAY FOUR THEIR NEGLIGENCE AND DERELICTION TOWARDS THE SIGNS OF THE GREAT CATACLYSM, SUFFERING FOREVER AND EVER IN THE MOST EXCRUCIATING PAINS, FOR ALL OF ETERNITY! WHEN THE DARK AND LIGHT ONES MERGE, PULLING THE DIM VEIL OVER THE WORLD, SHALL THE ANCIENT GODS TAKE WHAT'S RIGHTFULLY THEIRS, DESTROYING ALL THAT THEIR SUBJECT CREATED TO BURY THEM, INCLUDING THEMSELVES!
THE END OF EXISTENCE SHALL BEGIN...!"

He was bellowing at the end, his face contorted into a mixture of disgust, rage and terror. his eyes bulging wide, mouth thin as knife's edge in a wide frown, face distended vertically, as lightning cracked behind him.

All six mares were now cowering on the floor, eyes shut tight, ears hanging down, tail laying close to the body. Spike, who had woken up by the shouting, took one look at the distorted face of the visitor, and collapsed back onto the floor, unconscious.

Suddenly, the thunder and lightning stopped, and Alexei was as calm as the mighty ocean, once again.

"That is..." he spoke "If the Eighth and Ninth Element doesn't exist here."

Slowly, the six mares looked up.

"T-T-Th-The E-E-Eighth a-a-and N-N-Ninth E-E-Ele-Elem-Element?" Twilight stuttered.

The Traveler smiled.

"Yes. The Element of Force - usually, a level-headed, yet strong personality carries it, and the Element of Knowledge, an outsider sort of persona, who's both wise, and practical - I've felt both of them among the visitors, and here, when I entered this world, and I saw them right away, when I arrived..."

The others looked up, curiously.

"Who is he... Or she?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"Well, following the slightly obvious unwritten matriarchic rules of this world, I can tell you that both the missing element, and the eighth one is a 'she'."

"But who are they? Are they mares?" Rarity asked.

And once again, they had to deal with the chuckle of the mysterious figure...

Wait and see...

Prologue - Part 3

...He was apparently on a VERY peculiar land...

The ground looked like a rugged carpet, made of stone, stretching as far as the eye can see, forming into a small hillside if you looked towards the right... And towards the left... Well, the land seemed to succumb to the great skies above...

The sky was odd, too... All black and static, no stars, no planets, no NOTHING. Blank. Honestly, the only thing INTERESTING in this... STRATA, were the towers...

Yup, the towers...

Made from an unknown metal, corroding bright red, these constructs looked like some weird high voltage electricity pylons... Not that the National Grid would ever use such things... They were fairly flimsy, shabby looking things, no idea who could have designed them...

Escher, probably...

It was a miracle they didn't toppled over in the strong wind...

He ducked again, hooves over head, as another object flew trough the area, entering and leaving with an explosion of bright light and sound. He glanced up between his hooves...

The object was a spaceship of some short, a clam-shaped one with what appeared to be a midget Easter Island Stonehead on it's "front"...

It rocketed trough the sky, swirling around the pylons like crazy, the driver definitely having trouble controlling it's vehicle. The barren meadow of pylons was a decompression-station, a decommissioned time and space zone that no longer kept up with the rest of the succumbed worlds of the Strata-system... It was left abandoned eons ago, but, mostly due to the fact that time doesn't existed in these zones, many architectures survived trough "nonexistence". A few industrial facilities, run-down agricultural compartments... Strangely, while most commercial buildings were made in absolute Brutalism, the residential ones, apartment blocs, skyscrapers and such were built in an extravagant and unrestrained non-Euclidean geometry that looked absolutely ghastly in the state of frozen decay it was suspended...

Whatever was the reason they abandoned this place, it was most likely due to heavy traffic.

Timeline and Zone Trespassers often dared to tamper with the energetic waves of the "Dimensional Cracks and/or Leaks", which often led to their disintegration, and the actual trespassing itself was followed by above mentioned light and sound effects...

THESE trespassers, however, were not the case...

They were pursuing one of their members, and kept causing serious electro-magnetic disturbances in the air...

He could taste a certain metallic taste in his mouth, as his nostrils filled with the unsound smell of electricity...

And it was also quite worrying that the last trespasser, coming from a most dangerous wormhole between the levels, though clearly NOT a part of the group he'd been pursuing, was even more rough with it's flight... It hit the wires between to pylons, just as it exit the decompression zone, making bright white sparks flicker in the air... The tower closer to the exit point shook, then, after a few minutes, it snapped in half, and collapsed with a series of loud metallic clanks and screeches...

After the cacophony was over, he could finally stand up... All was silent now, but he had also lost track of the trespassers... He could hear voices from the collapsed pylon, but he decided to leave them for now... This crack-zone was in no need of saving, and he wasn't a fan of euthanasia, especially if it meant the destruction of an entire strata. Even if it was a fairly "quirky" one...

Sighing, he left, climbing back up the hill, into the nearest town, where he had left the TARDIS.

The Interstrata war had probably raged here as well, as the buildings were more destroyed than decaying... He also noticed a mortally high level of radiation in the air, but since time was frozen here, he shouldn't be worried of the ionizing particles... Right?

Entering the TARDIS, he carefully typed the coordinates of his present time - actually, scratch that - base of operation world. And left...

With a very well-known zooming sound, an odd building appeared in the back end of the impasse Melancholy Interwall, found between the train station and the Post office's warehouse. It's oddity didn't really came as much as from it's alienage than from it's obsolescence. It looked like an old Police Booth from roughly a hundred years before, when the Canterlot region made the Stalliongrad province one of it's satellites, the final one, in a bloodless overthrow of the despotate in control. There was a large outbreak of crime and violence in both regions, not to mention street riots. Soon, Police Booths were deployed so that the local authorities could act faster. Fifty years afterwards, the riots finally ceased, and many Booths were decommissioned and scrapped, but a few still remained, some preserved, some turned into phone boxes (the more unfortunate ones into stabilized porta-loos), some still intact and in working order (some vandalized), and some working as miniature museums 'bout that period of time.

But they were only located in larger cities (Canterlot, most importantly), so it was quite surprising when a certain grey pegasus with a dirty-golden yellow mane came across one in the humble town of Ponyville. Everyone WOULD'VE knew her by her cutie mark: bubbles.

But instead, she was known by her walleyes. Not that she really minded it. Trough the jibes and sobriquets hurt a tad bit. Or was it a tad lot?

She was known by many by her more sophisticated nickname "Ditzy Doo", trough most people still called her Derpy.
Not that the word meant anything, but it sorta described her personality. She WAS bubbly, so to speak, and one heck of a klutz at times. But she was more than willing to help in all cases - even being a bit forceful, too - and had a heart of gold, anyway.

Her house was around the corner, but she often spent her time in the warehouse's humble loft, peaking out trough the ventage, waiting for the Doctor to arrive.

The Doctor, often called Doctor Whooves by the residents of Ponyville, was odd sort, trough fairly intelligent, he seemed to be a bit of an airhead, still, as if not being completely used to be a pony. But he was kind, light-hearted fellow, all the same... He lived in the old Police Booth at the end of Melancholy Interval, which, as Derpy could tell by now, was bigger on the inside.

The "met" blue cabin sometimes just disappeared, leaving with an ominous zooming. Derpy knew that it was in those moments her friend had left off to travel trough time and space, saving people from certain, impending doom, and making things right.

And like many times before, as she saw the TARDIS appear out of the blue (no pun intended), she raced straight towards it, not noticing that she burst trough the railing of the air intake (again).

By the time the door opened, she was already standing front of it, holding a freshly made batch of muffins (she was an expert in those).

"Ah, Ditzy! Glad to see you!" he greeted her with a warm smile. He really liked this queer little mare. She surely brought a smile to anyone's face (well, ALMOST anyone's face).

"'ow waw wouw dwaw, dwowtow?" she asked sweetly, with the bag of muffins still in her mouth...

"Hmmm... Fine, I guess..." the Doctor replied, taking the bag from her mouth (making both of them blush lightly, as he still didn't learned to use his hooves that easily, so he used his mouth, which came VERY close to Derpy's), an walked inside the TARDIS, followed by an eager (and quite startled) pegasus...

Once they finished the muffins, the Time Lord described the world he visited. After a good hour of speech, he turned to his intensively listening assistant.

"Well?" he asked.

"What's a... Strata?" she asked back.

The Doctor facehoofed, then just sighed, smiling and shaking his head... That was until he heard a familiar chirping sound...

Turning to his saddlebag dropped on the floor, he picked out a noisy device...

And gasped!

"They're HERE!" he shouted, and ran off, holding the machine in his mouth...

"Who are?" Derpy asked, taking the device in one hoof, and the Doctor in the other, as she flew of, logically following the arrow on the tiny screen of the gadget.

"The trespassers! They're here!"

******************************************************************************

"CHRIST Almighty, that WAS quick!"

The sudden blurt from the Traveler had woken up Twilight from her daydream...

"Who's Christ?" Spike asked, also looking up from the list the purple pony had shoved into his hands.
"A supposed son of THE God in one of the worlds I came from." Alexei replied, putting his coat on.
"And WHAT was quick?"Twilight asked, also standing up.

"The trespassers!" the figure replied, already outside the library "They've arrived sooner than I expected!" then, he mumbled something that only he could hear "So much for a long buildup in the beginning!"

The news, albeit no word was spoken, soon spread through town. Everyone was tidying and cleaning their houses, expecting the "Trespassers" to take shelter in their humble homes.

Well, almost everyone.

"Wha' do yah mean, 'I shall go'?" Applejack snapped, watching her family doing all the cleaning up, and sending HER away!
"Now, now, Applejack, that nice Mr. Alexei sayed that ya'r role is import'nt, so ya'll better be off to meet with the "v'sitors"." Granny Smith replied.

It was one of those moments where Applejack's jaw literally hit the ground...

"Grannee Smith..." she stammered "Do yah know everythin'?"

"Hehee... Less than what you'd expect..." her grandmother replied, chuckling...

"Yah shall go, Appl'jack!" her sister encouraged "Mahbe som' of the v'sitors could help us out! Who knows, mahbe they bring some fut'ristic, ahdvanced technology that could help Sweet Apple Acres. Our income coul' go skyrocketin'!" she added.

Big Macintosh just stared blankly at the floor he was mopping, then, lifting his gaze, he smiled, sharing his opinion on the topic:

"Eeyup!"

So Applejack left the farm, still sulking a bit. She did, however, hoped that Apple Bloom was right, and that at least ONE of the visitors - even through they were "mortal engines", as the Traveler described them - would help out the Apple family's business... There has been a bit of stagnation on the market, due to the bad weather caused by an unfortunate accident at the weather factory near Cloudsdale. A rainbow refinery, which also produced lightnings as byproduct, had a serious malfunction in one of it's distilizers, causing an explosion in the refinery block, No. 4, and allowing massive amounts of pure licenta radiation escape into the environment, causing a massive disruption in weather schemes made ahead as far as 5 years!

A long debate had already started about whether rainbows are a necessary part of the weather in general, and rumors of Cloudsdale building 'Orbitary Rainbow Annihilators' began to spread. The entire anti-rainbow agenda was pushed by unicorns and a few wealthier earth ponies, along with a few pegasi anti-weapon groups which prospered on the rumors.
Thankfully, the majority of Equestria found the whole accident rather more of an 'unfortunate incident' than catastrophe. Earth ponies accepted the challenge of a more wilder weather, and the pegasi training grounds were absolutely delighted, along with many famous unicorn research groups. Licenta radiation is a long-thought-to-be lethal poison which is necessary for liquidizing the rainbows' colors without mixing them up. It was dangerous and COULD be lethal - leading to spontaneous combustion - if a certain amount was enough dense and compacted. But in the open air, it quickly dispersed, and the only thing it did was spicing up the clouds' behavior.

The only victims of the incident were the two workcolts in the operator room, who escaped with a minor case of poisoning - making their irises and pupils turn rainbow-colored, or "trippy" for a few weeks - and some smaller bruises - protective glass is protective.

The weather, however, DID effected the market, and farmers were given a hard time... As for the Apple family, the most prominent thing was that several parts of the orchard began to randomly produce Zap apples, and at some places, Paz apples, which were basically like Zap apples but in negative colors, and had a certain spice in them.
Twilight and other professionals had already tested them with Gallopper-Muler counters, and they were fine, not a single bit of radiation in them.

But people were still very cautious, and it seemed that they'll, sooner or later, will have to go abroad to sell their apples - albeit the foreign press was probably even more exagerative as the tabloids at home.

So, the orange mare REALLY hoped that at least ONE of the visitors would be at their aid.

Little did she knew, that she was absolutely right!

On her way, she noticed Derpy carrying the Doctor through the air, heading towards some direction. She figured, "if anybody else would know of the visitors' where'bouts, it'll surely be that time-crazed stallion". So she promptly followed them.

Pinkie Pie was literally thrown out of Sugarcube Corner. Standing up from the ground, and undusting herself with a swift shake of her torso, she glanced back in disbelief.

"But WHY can't I heeeeeelp?" she asked, imploringly. Mrs. Cake gave a sigh, as one of the twins peaked out above her head, giggling...

"Now, now, dearie, I'm pretty sure your friends are all there, waiting for you to arrive and greet the visitors!" she replied kindly.

"Yeah, think about it!" the gentle voice of Mr. Cake added from within the building "We'll take care of the cleaning up, and you can go ahead, meet with your friends and the "trespassers", or whatever that kind fellow called them."

Pinkie, having one of her moments in life when she was unsure of what to think, simply replied:

"O-kay?"

...And walked off, still pondering.

By the time she noticed that there was VIRTUALLY no possible way that her landlords/stepparents/friends would KNEW about her supposed role as an Element of Defiance, the door of the candy shop had already shut.

On her way, she noticed Applejack running through town, occasionally looking up, where the pink pony saw her walleyed friend an her - she squeed mischievously here - future coltfriend, perhaps? Known as the Doctor, anyway.

She dashed after them, thinking exactly what her friend did: if there are inter-dimensional trespassers from another world, Doctor Whooves would surely be there...

And with that, she continued skipping merrily towards them.

There are few things that ever actually caught Rainbow Dash's attention - especially when she was asleep. Not that she was completely ignorant, or that she didn't care about others. It's just that, she WAS a TEENY bit insensitive at times, or had been preoccupied, it was different every occasion.

And to her protection, she DID noticed the klutz of a pegasus flying pass her with the brown, spiky-maned earth pony stallion. She did woke up, and followed them, and she DID noticed her friends following them, too... She then remembered what Scootaloo told her before she went to take a nap on the stratus cloud.

"Ah, right, the "trespasser" are arriving." she thought, the sped up, getting closer to ground level.
"Hope there are some slick, cool guys among the visitors. Or at least ONE person who'd be as cool as me... Well, not AS cool, but near it."

Her prayers were answered, thought the "cool guys" were proven to be MUCH more cooler than she would expected. And not in the WAY she expected.

If there was a rumor or gossip going on, the first one to hear it could only been ONE pony in Ponyville: and that was Rarity. The shop was clean, Sweetie Belle was of with the Cutie Mark Crusaders to pep up the clubhouse... Everything was ready... Except for herself, naturally... A last bit of make-up, a nice, rich, but casual dress... Maybe some jewelry? But no! She'll have to be on time, BANG on time!

The last she expected is fate to take her words literally.

She stepped out Carousel Boutique, only to see three of her friends run pass, following a flying object... Which pretty much looked like the good Doctor Whooves and her assistant, Ditzy Doo...

"Right." she uttered, and rushed after the others. She secretly hoped there would be some novelty among them. Not that she minded the simple proles, but she DID longed to see what other worlds' nobility looked like...
Well, she got THAT wish granted, trough she wasn't exactly pleased.

Fluttershy was already there. She went out for a nice morning walk on the far edge of the field of green next to the town, and thus, was the first to witness the disturbance in the air. In a point suspended in mid-air, the view twisted, as if a rock was dropped into still water, messing up the reflection... It was followed by a weird aura that made the warping area turn monochrome with blue, and by weird whooshing sound.

When Alexei, Twilight and Spike arrived, it was as small as a filly. When the Time Lord and Ditzy arrived, it was as big as Princess Celestia. When the rest of her friends arrived, it was bigger than Alexei.

They all stood there, waiting for the trespassers' arrival.

The brown earth pony handed his hoof.

Alexei did the same.

"I'm Alexei."

"Doctor. Just, simply, Doctor."

"Doctor Whooves?"

"Yes."

They shook hands/hoofs.

"Ummm... A little MORE info about our soon-to-be-visitors?"Twilight asked. The figure stared for a moment, then sighed.

"Well, I'm not gonna lie to you..." he muttered "They're right bastards. Honestly. The biggest bunch of gits you would found from here to the the Andromeda Galaxy."

The others just stared at him, now a bit concerned. The Traveler continued:

"It's not like they're evil, but rather - as one of them said - a product of their environment. Their world is much more ruthless and cruel than yours, and MANY people are like them there - or worse. Thus, they've became real jerks, with various unlikable personality features. And really, nice people are so seldom among them--..."

He stopped here, as a silhouette appeared in the portal, slowly emerging, as if coming trough a tunnel.

Their muscles tensed, and their eyes kept focusing on the shape forming out from the illuminating haze.

As it finally did, smiles shrunk, eyes went a bit wide, eyebrows raised, and several blinks were made.

"Oh, super! I've finally made it here!" the newcomer said. The ponies just stared at him...

Something in the back of the Doctor's mind was violently attempting to click, but failed every time. Derpy's walleyed expression changed into a normal, if awestruck gaze. Rarity's smile was turned into a frown, mouth shrunk to it's fifth, and left slightly agape. Pinkie's grin turned upside-down as her eyes squinted slightly on the sight. Rainbow Dash's jaw dropped, as she slowly lowered to the ground, eyes fixated on the being - machine? - in front of them. Twilight's eyes went wide, her pupils slightly shaking, as she tried to put the pieces of information that flowed trough them, as her brain's gears creaked to an abrupt halt.

Applejack... Well, she was trying oh-so-hard to comprehend the sight. But the more she tried, the more scrambled her mind became.

Spike just stared. He had no jokes for this.

Fluttershy's eyes opened a bit wider. She knew it wasn't nice at all to stare, but, the being seemed so... Unique... Yeah, lets say this, unique. But it sure looked, and sounded... Kind?

Alexei sighed... This was a good start.

"Umm... Hello?" the purple unicorn asked.

The visitors eyes darted towards the source of the voice, and his smile grew broad.

"Ah, Twilight Sparkle, is it? I am so very glad to see you!" who-, or WHATever he was, he had a very slight lisp. Twilight took a step back when he called her by her name.

It was a fairly odd thing, to say the least. It had four pair of small, metal wheels, apparently having pieces of metal just existing under them like holograms (well get to that later), two pairs secured onto weird boxes near the two ends, a slightly protruding, cabin-like part in the middle with oddly shaped windows, stuck between two long, smooth edged cuboid parts. He was definitively made of metal, painted Forest Green with the rectangular parts ending in yellow, and with it's protruding midsection having a black roof.

It also had red strips of metal on each end, having a hook of some sort and some rubber pipes on it, and oval-shaped pieces of metal on studs as well. The most notable thing was his face, however. He had a grey face which followed shape of the rectangular part it was on. He had a HUGE nose - it looked like a beach-ball with nostrils -, stretched-triangle-tear-shaped eyebrows, and a jolly smile on his face.

"Uhhh... Hi?" Twilight tried again, desperately trying to get the otherworldly being's sight accepted into her mind...

"And I see that Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Rarity, Spike, AND the Doctor, aaaand... Ditzy Doo? Is here as well... Oh hello..." he finally noticed Alexei "I haven't seen you before..."

"I get that a lot." the Traveler replied blankly "Anyways, I'm Alexei, Space, Dimension and Timeline Traveler, not to mention the God of Denial."

"Aaah." the being replied, pretending to understand what the stick figure just said "Right. Oh, how rude of me, I haven't even introduced myself. Well then... Good day to you all! I'm--..."

"DEEEREEEEEEEK!!!" an angry voice both finished and interrupted him. More white shadows began to emerge from the portal, the first one being a fairly boxy one, which darkened with every inch it moved towards them, finally appearing as rectangular... Actually, downright BOXY, cuboid like machine-being, with a larger gray face, a short stumpy body, a short, stumpy cabin at the back, six small wheels with stainless steel rims, connected with dirty, silvery rods, and apparently, a short stumpy temper... As it rolled forward, it made an oily growling and clanking noise, quite a loud one, too. On its sides small edges could be found, where various boxes - apparently parts of his body - rattled. He also had the same red metal stripe with the round metal plates, but his were black, and along with the hook, he only had one rubber pipe on his front. His windows were small and squint, and dark from either the interior of his cab or because of the grime - it was hard to tell, as his body was entirely painted in a greasy, dirty black color, slightly brown shaded, thought, and visibly smudged here and there, probably due to shabby paintwork.

His face was different as well: A large, square shaped one, with a near invisible chin - in contrast of the first arrival's -, sinuous eyebrows nearly as thin as a line, now frowned, an ugly, pointy nose, round, slightly bulging, baggy eyes, a mouth area shaded by his small, slightly triangle-shaped cheek-bumps, his mouth was apparently twisted into a snarl, with quite a few wrinkles, which, along with his "look into certain Hell" glare and frowned eyebrows gave him a very angry, and very frightening look.

"Oh, uhhh... H-Hello, Diesel..." Derek uttered, a cracked smile on his face...
The boxy being named Diesel turned his eyes towards the eight ponies and the God, his Face-O'-Fury turning into a moderately ignorant look, eyebrows slightly raised, but still in the same anguine shape, eyes half closed, and mouth shrunk into a small, careless pout.

"Sorry, didn't see ya there..." he spoke with a slight British accent "Anyways, make yourself comfortable, this might take a while..." and with that, he turned his look back to Derek, with only his snarl missing, now replaced with an enhanced pout with lots of wrinkles.

The other one, Derek, looked away, sheepishly and afraid.

His surly companion seemed to be in a mix of disbelief and anger...

"Derek, you... Just... What THE HELL were you THINKING?!" he snapped, after some difficulty.

"Well, I... I wanted to visit Equestria, a-and... Well... I got these neat dimension-jumping devices... I did ordered a lot, because... I hoped someone else might want to come with me, so..."

Diesel interrupted him...

"SOMEONE?! You ordered enough for THE ENTIRE BLOODY RAILWAY! And that even includes EVERY SINGLE PIECE of rolling stock! J-Just what...?! HOW were you even ABLE to pay for all of this?"

A sly smile spread across Derek's face.

"Oh, I think you'll like what you'll hear..." he said, eyes half closing...

"Oh, REALLY?!" Diesel snorted, raising an eyebrow "How's that?"

Derek took a deep breath, as if savoring the moment. Then...

"It's ALL charged on the Thin Git's booze-money account!"

The black machine's expression quickly shifted from irritated to awestruck, then, it slowly creeped into a nefarious, thoroughly DEVIOUS look, his eyebrows lowered slightly, eyes fully opened, mouth turning from a sharp, angry moue into a content, triumphant smile, making his face look less threatening, to say the least, but in the same time, much more shady...

"Weeeeell..." he said in a slick, oily voice, the rumbling and clanking coming from inside of him smoothing into a quiet, low purring noise "What can I say? I would've never, ever expected... You, Derek, of ALL engines, getting our collective revenge on Sir Wyatt Fronts... I'm DREADFULLY grieved..." he made a particularly nasty smirk here "But... I couldn't be prouder... Guess all that banker business DID payed off... Heh... In one way or another..." Diesel finished, chuckling evilly, while Derek smiled once again.

"I'm glad you feel like that!" he replied, happily.

"But still..." his companion added, eyebrows lowering, and mouth showing a half-smile "You SHALL NOT speak of that to ANYONE. Comprende?"

Before Derek could answer, there was a loud, abrupt noise, like an industrial-sized trumped or horn going off, coming out of the portal, which STILL haven't closed up, yet. The next moment, something - someone - else emerged from within, the loud noise going off again, clearly, the new visitor made that sound...

When he finally emerged, Rarity gasped, and nearly fainted. The other ponies recoiled...
The new one was another machine, far more different from the others...

He was recognizably larger, and not to mention longer than the previous two... His cab was mounted into his body in a sort of streamlined way, with three square windows on the front. Speaking of fronts, he also had a protruding one in front of his cab, albeit a short one. It's front (I gotta stop saying that) was painted in a paled out yellow color, on which he had a similarly yellow face, which basically melted into the metal. His eyebrows were similar to Diesel's but they were a bit thicker, and a bit angular, and a bit longer, extending sideways pass his eyes. His eyes, however, seemed almost normal compared to his comrades', but they were blood-shot and baggy. His nose, presumably snub once, was a bit swollen and dented - it was probably broken a few times. Another noticeable thing was his joined stubble - he probably didn't shaved for a long time by then, and the lower part of his face could almost be considered gray. His front was yellow, and the rest of his body was blue - well, as far as the mares could see. The reason why they've taken aback was the machine's state: his side and boogies were covered in scratches, mud, soot, oil, and other muck, his windows were smudgy and spotty, the middle one was cracked, and he had several dents on his body. He also had a red metal plate on front, but of course, that was barely recognizable, as it was also covered in grime. He also had protruding studs with plate-shaped pieces of metal on front, once probably painted black, but now, they were scratched and worn. The plastic pipes he had faded colors and were roughly patched up with petticoat and metal bands, and the hook he had was much more robust, and seemed to be extra secured to that metal plate of his. He had a frown on his face, but it was more of a frown of irritation or tiredness - maybe even his normal expression - than a frown of anger.

With internal, mechanic growling, he stopped on the other side of Derek. Diesel was on his right, while the newcomer was on his left.

"Dere ya are!" he spoke, with a THICK British working class accent "I'v' bee' loo'in' fo' ya trough WO'LD'S an' shi'! We'e 'ave ya been, ya twi's?!" he snapped.

"It's nice to see you too, Spamcan." Derek replied, ever so ignorantly kind.

"Huh... What are YOU doing here?" Diesel asked back crabbily, before raising one eyebrow in suspicion.

"Me? I'm sear'in' fo' you guys!" Spamcan replied "Whe'e ar' we, anyway?"

He looked around.

The scenery was beautiful. A large, green meadow, with a few healthy trees and bushes here and there, the sun shining brightly with only a few puffy clouds on the sky, birds chirping and butterflies flying around, low in the high grass, snow covered mountains in the distance, one sporting a large castle or abbey of some sort, built close to it's peak, and small village in the distance, bustling with life...

Something inside Spamcan growled up, and thick plumes of back, sooty smoke flew up from his top, rising from two points of his roof, as he spoke:

"Not ba'. Bi' too greenie an' poofy fo' my taste, but i's no' 'alf ba'."

Two birds playfully flied trough the smoke, but came out the other side, coughing badly and covered in the greasy smog.

Fluttershy gasped, and quickly flew to them... She took them down to the ground, where she gently cleaned them from the soot, while they kept on coughing the smoke out.

Finally, they were ready to go, and in a tired manner, they flew off.

The yellow pegasus then flew right in front of the large machine, and looked at him with fear and sincerity...

"Please, would stop doing that? It's making the little birds sick, and I have a feeling that's not all the problem your... Smoke... Can cause... So... Can you... Stop it, please?"

Spamcan just stared at her, bewildered. Did that undersized, winged horse just TALKED to him? AND asked nicely, too?
His previous gruff and slightly blunt look returned, as Fluttershy slowly lowered to the ground, not being able to bare the large machine's look. She sat on the ground, then slowly laid down, peeking up at the being which looked down at her with a sedate and mighty look. She squirmed, and tried to look smaller, hiding her eyes under her long mane... Then, she heard the grimy, brusque machine talk, in a deep, croaky, harsh voice, but with no malevolence in it whatsoever.

"Sorry... Force o' habbit... Bu' I can' 'elp th' smoke. I wor' da' way."

She looked up, surprised.

"Huh? Work that way?" she asked.

"I'll say! What sort of ridiculous postcard world IS this?!" an unknown voice suddenly asked. It sounded grumpy, and very, very posh.

"Weeell, yes, it DOES look a bit of a "highland sights" cliché, but on the other hand, it seems very pure and, most importantly, CLEAN. I kind of like it." the other voice was snooty and picky, but sounded much more smooth, and much less posh. It also seemed to be a bit younger, and a LOT more pleased than the first.

Two other machines rolled out of the portal, and stopped next to Diesel. They had the same shape, slightly similar to Spamcan's, but the protruding front bits were longer, and the bodies themselves also seemed longer. One was painted similar to Spamcan: blue body and yellow front and face. But he was much more cleaner, only a bit of dust/soot on the lower part of his sides, close to the wheels, and on the red metal plate on his front. His oval-shaped plate thingies, on the other hand, were sparkling clean, and even trough painted dull gray, they glistened silvery in the sunlight. His windows were intact, and the rubber pipes and hook on his front seemed new. His face, on the other hand, shown of age: he had wrinkles around his baggy, narrowed eyes, and around his haughtily pouting mouth, trough none was a wrinkle of laughter. He had very thick and long eyebrows, but they've seemed to be elegantly combed - and gel covered? His eyes were sizable, proportionally as big as his eyebrows, and VERY deep within them, a light of wisdom could be seen - hardly, as it was clouded up by a look of arrogance. He had a monocle on his left eye, with a thin metal rim, collected to his... Side, by a thick black rope. His nose was bigger, triangle-shaped, and sharp.

The other one was painted like Derek: green body, with only the front being yellow, and with a rectangular, gray face. He seemed to be the only one with normal sized and shaped eyebrows and eyes so far... He had a snub nose, and an impish half-smile on his face, no wrinkles or frown. He was even cleaner than the other one, with his paintwork shining in the sunlight, and a bright red metal plate on his front, and his plate-shaped stud were silver gray, and sparkled in the sunshine. His pipes and hook seemed brand new as well. He looked very spiffy, and very confident... And very smart in a snooty, uppity way.

"Ah, that's ALL we needed!" Diesel groaned upon seeing the new arrivals...

"Who are they?" Twilight asked. Diesel glanced at her, surprised that somebody from THEM asked HIM, then replied, as unenthusiastic as possible:

"Well, I might as well introduce them, as they're too much of a pair of snobby sods to do so. Ahem... Here we have Sir Alaric English Electric, or 40 125. We call 'im Old Stuck-Up. The other one is D261, or Bowler. To cut it short, Stuck-Up's a posh twat, and Bowler is a paranoid, hypochondriac toff. The other one on Derek's far side is D199, but just call him Spamcan. I'm Diesel. Oh, yeah, and this is Derek beside me.

The mares just stared. Weird names, numbers, and unflattering nicknames...

They didn't even noticed when two other machines rumbled out from the portal, soon followed by a third.

They all stopped next to Spamcan.

"And who are they?" Fluttershy asked him.

Spamcan glanced to his side. Next to him parked two other machines, their shape similar to Diesel's but they were painted differently - among other things...

Their wheels seemed to be a bit further from each other than Diesel's wheels, and the strip of metal on their front where they had the plate-shaped metals on studs was painted in a dark, damp brownish-black color, along with the plate-shaped metal parts - but it was more likely that they were THAT dirty. Their faces were a bit narrower, and they had yellow and black wasp stripes around them. Their bodies were dark gray, with a stripe of yellow going along the side, close to their roofs, in the same level as their small, squint windows, with the words "BARROW IRONWORKS" in them in black. Their cabs (and the odd boxes on the small edge on their sides) were yellow as well, but the paint was dusty, had smudged splodges and watermarks on them, their bodies were scratched and covered in dust, soot and ashes, even bearing a few traces of burning... Their wheels and the rods connecting them were black with smirch. They both had stubble, thought one of them had a heavier one, while the other had more narrower eyes - they had dark circles around their eyes, maybe because they didn't slept enough, but who knew. Not that it mattered, anyway, they were still clearly twins... They were both weather-worn, dirty, and looked quite grim, both wearing a mischievous, or more like sinister grin on their faces, eyeing up the scenery, as a now familiar mechanical growling-purring could be heard from within them... Both had depressed, slightly round noses, normal-looking eyebrows, and pronounced chins.

When their looks finally fell on the ponies (and the Traveler), they both opened their eyes wide in surprise, then, the one with the heavier stubble started to smile warmly, while the other one rolled his eyes, looking irritated.

"The' ar' 'Arry an' Ber', th' Iron Twins." Spamcan explained "An' tha' othe' guy is... Ohmygod..." his face went a bit pale, as the third machine, a large, sepia and rust brown colored, tube shaped thing, much like a large worm compared to the others, stopped beside the Iron Twins.

"Greetings, Mr. Spamcan." he spoke in a deep, early Hollywood gangster voice, mixed with a bit of Italian "I'm also very pleased to see you, too."

Instant surprise was the mares' first reaction. Spamcan, who, even thought they had no idea what he was, looked like a total thug, a hard nut who won't take horse apples from anyone, was now cowering (along with the others, pass the Twins), at the sight of a member of their gang who was presumably older than all of them.

While naturally, the ponies didn't know that they were right about every detail in that consideration, still proceeded asking the rudimentary excuse of a polite question...

Well, Rarity did, anyway...

"And who, pray tell, are YOU exactly?" she asked, with both superciliousness and respect in her voice.

The machine looked at her, blankly eyeing her up. His face was the only yellow part on his body, a bright (yet, faded) rectangle on the dull brown body. He had two large windscreens above it, both covered in thick layers of dust, so the only place you can see trough them was the clean path left by the windscreen wipers. The rubber pipes were located on the two sides of his face, and his stud-based plate-shaped metal thingies were also oval and rusty. His face looked like a mixture of Diesel's and Old Stuck-Ups - a sharp, triangle-shaped nose, a bit hawk-like, brush-like, snaky eyebrows, narrow, bagged eyes, heavy wrinkles on the forehead, noticeably many around the mouth, from laughter, as it seemed, and a small, almost unnoticeable diagonal cut across the face, including his left eye (intact), his nose, and his mouth. He also had noticeably acute chin.

After an uncomfortably long stare, the internal rumbling coming from him stopped with a nasty, short uproar, two small plumes of pellucid grey smoke left from his top (Fluttershy winced here), and turned his gaze towards the other machines.

"Buffer me, who are these nags?" he asked the Twins.

"NAGS?!" the ponies hollered in anger.

"...Ponies. Excuse me. Who are these... Ponies?" the brown machine repeated after a short cough.

"More importantly, what's "buffer"?" Pinkie Pie suddenly asked.

And I really thank her for that, 'cause writing down "plate-shaped metal thingies on studs" was SERIOUSLY getting on my nerves!

"Wha'? Buf'e's?" 'Arry (the one with the narrower eyes) asked, speaking in a hoarse, deep Glaswegian accent.

"Ya don' 'no' wha' buffe's ar'?" Bert (the one with the heavier stubble) added, his voice similar, but even deeper and a bit monotonous, hinted with a south-londonian accent aside the Glaswegian.

"Buffers are these round or oval things we have on our fronts." Derek explained patiently, looking down at his buffers "They're there for safety when shunting or pulling trains..."

"Wait, did you said, "trains"?" Rainbow cut him off, surprised.

"Yes, trains..." Derek replied simply "Why?"

The ponies stared at each other.

The machines blinked, and also exchanged glances...

"Oh dearie me..." Derek exclaimed "I forgot! They've never seen a diesel engine before! Or an European one, for that matter! They probably have no idea what we are!"

"Well, we could hav' guessed." Applejack replied dryly "Th' wheels kinda give it away, y'know."

"Oh, alright..." Derek replied sheepishly.

"So, let me get this straight..." Twilight spoke up sternly, trying to wake from her newfound disorientation "You guys are from another dimension, or timeline, or world, whatever, and you are living locomotives, am I correct?"

"Basically, yes." Bowler replied "We're diesels."

"But I thought HE was called "Diesel"." Fluttershy replied, pointing a hoof at the black box on wheels.

"I am." Diesel answered morosely "Creative name, isn't it?"

After noticing the confused stare, he cleared his throat, and explained:

"You see, we are indeed locomotives, or engines, as in 'the ENGINE-powered unit of the train'. But unlike the STEAM engines you probably have, which run on coal and water - if they don't run on magic AS WELL -, we have internal combustion engines, or motors, which use a liquid fuel refined from crude mineral oil, called diesel oil, after it's discoverer, Rudolph Diesel. We all run on this same fuel, and thus, we are called "diesels". But my builders were SOOO creative, they gave me this hilariously convenient name." he finished, ever so unenthusiastic.

The Mane Six looked even more bewildered now, except for Twilight and Spike, who were most amazed.

"Internal combustion engines?" she asked, excitedly.

"Yes." the diesels replied in unison.

"But... That's... Just... BRILLIANT! "she cheered.

The engines were dumbfounded.

"It is?" the Twins asked, again, in unison.

"Yes!" Spike added "I've looked into this. You know, a few decades before, a famous chemist stallion called Rudolf Dazzler invented a new type of piston engine that run on oil made out of herbs. Sadly, it was proven to be uneconomical at the time, given that coal was much easier to mine."

While both the diesels, the mares, AND Alexei stared at Spike in utter surprise, the purple unicorn continued.

"Nowadays, easy-to-reach coal is scarce, or located in dangerous regions, like the Dragon Dominion. Rail transportation is a great mess, and it's slowly dying." she finished, a bit sad.

Stuck-Up snorted, and chuckled a bit.

"Then it sure is in better conditions than the Hellhole we slack off all day." he snickered, before breaking down into a hearty guffaw, gloat-filled and rude, and soon to be followed by his "colleagues", apparently.

The ponies just stared, unsure of what to think. They didn't even noticed as two sleek and slim, streamlined bodies slipped out from the portal, stopping beside the brown engine.

"So, who are you, anyway?" Rainbow Dash asked the old engine.

"I go by many names." he replied darkly "But, to NOT to get you into any... Sticklers, refer to me as... The Brakefather.

After a bit of awed silence, the yellow pegasus spoke up.

"Excuse me, Mr. Brakefather, sir, but that's a rather silly name, if you don't mind me saying... Sorry..." she muttered, looking away.

The engines suddenly stopped laughing, and stared at her with a mix of horror and pity.

But the Brakefather just smiled broadly.

"It's alright, my dear, um... Mare. I think so as well. But I keep it so as to avoid any... Inkling, that may be implied about me." he said mysteriously, then added, with a lighter tone "And to remind me of my days in retirement..."

"Retirement?" Fluttershy asked back.

"Indeed. You see, do to an unfortunate... Incident, due to the incompetence of my, ugh... DRIVER, I had suffered not only an explosion, but a rather hasty and, dare I say, thoroughly botched up rebuilt, ending up as a brakevan for a period of time, but, thanks to that, I survived the extinction of my class."

"What's a "brakevan"?" Pinkie asked.

"Why, Ah'm surprised ya don' know that, sugah." Applejack replied, rhetorically "A brakevan or caboose is a wagon at the end of a train which helps it to slow down, hence it's name."

"Ooooh..." the pink earth pony replied, apparently satisfied with the answer. Then...

"Hey, who are those?" she asked, pointing at the two newcomers. They were twins as well, and noticeably female. They were streamlined, had one large windscreen at the front, and where painted yellow with a familiar blue stripe at their middle. Their entire cab was painted yellow, with in-built pair of lamps edging their faces, which basically marked where it ended, as it was built well into their bodies, which were blue. They didn't have buffers.

"Ah, there you are, girls! We've been wondering what took you so long!" Bowler smirked...

"THERE you are, Derek!" one of them spoke up. She had blue eye shadows, and talked in an equally mixed welsh/londonian accent "We've been looking trough WORLDS to find you! Don't you DARE run away like that!"

"Yeah!" the other joined in. She wore a very humble red lipstick, and spoke in the same accent, trough her voice seemed a bit lighter "We know the world may seem to be a dark and cruel world at times - oh, hello, guys! -, but there's no need to run away like that." she then looked around, along with her twin. Their faces were noticeably feminine, located on the very front, on the edge of the streamline, with thin, curving eyebrows, naturally pronounced eyelashes, cute, snub noses and pouty, full lips. Their paintjob expressed speed and officially, and was just a bit sooty, especially on the roofs.

"Allow me to introduce them." Old Stuck-up offered, then cleared his throat "Ladies... Mares, and gentlemen... Gentlengines, allow me to introduce you to the finest assets of the Other Railway: Philippa and Emma, the High-Speed Trains. Together, and with their coaches, which are not present, they make up an InterCity 125 set. Highly recommended for commuters and shorter express runs." and with that, Stuck-up stopped, groaning and muttering under his breath about class, engines and bleeding hearts...

"So... Who's Philippa and who's Emma?" Applejack asked, after a bit of silence.

"I'm Philippa. But just call me Pip." the eye-shadowed one answered.

"I'm Emma! Hello there!" the one with the lipstick replied, cheerily.

"It's easy to tell them apart." Diesel sneered quietly "Pip, usually leading the train, is the more serious and sensible one, while Emma, careering at the back in most cases, is the more cutesy-poo, ditzy one. They're our token girls and our ONLY hope to avoid a financial crunch. Given that if they wouldn't be here, our PATHETIC excuse of a railway would've shut down due to "sexism in workplace". I think in your case it is needless to say, don't judge them by their gender. They can easily put up a banter with the rest of us and prevail - even though that's quite bloody annoying when it happens MOST of the time."

Exchanging perplexed looks over this curious comment, the ponies finally looked at Alexei, who just shrugged his shoulders.

What made them turn their attention back to the visitors was a rather loud and impolite sound.

"BUUUUAAAARRRP!"

Rolling out from the portal was... Yet another engine?

It was hard to tell...

He was long and rectangular, although his top appeared to be vaulted. His wheels were strangely set: four pair of big ones connected via similar rods Diesel, 'Arry and Bert had, one middle-sized pair at the back, and a four small wheels at the front. His body was like a large box, with a few, tiny windows and two longs-stretching strip set of vertical railings on the sides. His front had a door on it, framed snugly in a thin, articulated piece of plastic that surrounded it, with two tall, narrow windows on each side. Maybe because of this, his face was located at a very low level - just above his brick-shaped buffers. His eyes were far from each other, located ALMOST above the buffers, but still, a bit tighter. They were round, and he wore a WIDE set of glasses, with lenses JUST big enough to cover his eyes. His eyebrows were white, and they looked like they've been drawn on his front with chalk - when they were ACTUALLY real ones, bending down on the outer edges. He seemed to have no nose, and his mouth was just above the metal plate - let's call it on it's name, buffer plate - practically making it his "chin". He apparently had a second, smaller section with six small wheels, which he towed along.

He rolled forward with an airy whirring, and stopped with a gently whoosh of his air brakes, right beside Bowler.

"Sorry I'm late guys. Took me time, you see..." he had the accent of an uppity, sappy business-Briton "But, on the other hand, I did organized what you asked for, Spamcan!"

Now THIS sentence caught EVERYONE'S suspicion. They all looked at the grimy engine with an earnest, stern stare. Spamcan reversed a bit, then decided to spill the beans...

"Ya see..." he began "Whe' Dere' left, le'vin' a sap'y not' be'in', we all decide'... Well, Pip an' Emma decided, ou' o' worry, and Diesel, ou' o' rage, tha' we'll go afta' Dere', an' save hi' arse, le'vin' all wor' be'ind. Bu' den, I cam' up wi'h an' idea: le's make EVER'ONE leave th' railwa' be'in', alon' wi'h all th' co'ches an' truc's an' wha'not, le'vin' th' Thin Git in a bi' pile of SHETH fo' makin' US do th' clean-u' afta' th' mel'down a' th' nuclea' plant! An' THA"S we'e I as'ed Cromwell to 'elp."

"Indeed, it was a brilliant idea. I was SICK an' TIRED of pulling those fallout trains, trough the unusually strong propulsion from Mr. Bottomsly did help... When I was PUSHING a train..."

"BLAAAAAAAARP!" a noise "said" from behind.

"Oh I kno' it wasn't INTENTIONAL, but still!" Cromwell sniffed,

"Who's Mr. Bottomsly?" Rarity asked.

"Oh. He's my tender!" the aloof engine replied, rolling forward, revealing the boxy thing behind his body to be joined with him via some unrecognizable metal parts at the bottom, and the same articulated black door-frame plastic between them. The tender itself looked like an auxiliary one, used for trains where they couldn't stop to take on water for long distances - only this was fairly crude in design - in fact, it looked like a large, block-shaped water tank with curving edges and thick pieces of riveted metal welded/screwed to it's sides and galvanized iron sheets on it's top, except for a spot where two large valves - one red and the other brass. On it's far end, a chromed top hat could be seen, apparently welded to the tanker's top.

"Sooo... You're a steam engine?" Spike asked.

Crowell stared at him in shock for a moment, then chuckled...

"Oh, HEAVENS, no! I am nothing more than an experimental gas-turbine express locomotive. The reason I look like this is, well, because... I was built on a drunken whim, and was made out of tinkered parts, a burned out first-class coach, and a stolen gas turbine originally intended for an alternative power plant in Denmark. And Mr. Bottomsly, I believe, is made out of a septic waste container, which was due to be displaced from the local chemical refinery. Nevertheless, I still work fine, apart from Mr. Bottomsly's vulgar outbursts - but it's not his fault, poor chap..."

This left our future heroines and heroes in perplexity. While Cromwell's unusual elegant manners and smoothness did calmed them down a bit, things still looked uncertain.

"So, let me get this straight..." Twilight began, talking slowly and loudly to catch everyone's attention. She turned to the engines.

"You guys are all here because you followed HIM." she pointed a hoof at Derek "...Who came here to visit us..." she pointed at herself and her friends "...And everyone came along, 'cause YOU and YOU TWO..." she pointed at Diesel and the High-Speed Twins "...Decided and said so. Then HE..." she continued, pointing at Spamcan "...Thought it'll be a good idea to tell EVERYONE to move OVER HERE, to Equestria..." she pointed at the ground "...So that you guys would get your... Boss? In trouble..." she finished.

The diesels exchanged looks...

"Yeah." the Iron Twins replied.

"...Sort of..." Derek added.

"Exactly!" Stuck-Up declared.

"Certainly!" Bowler agreed.

"Indeed." Cromwell backed it up.

"You could say that..." Pip and Emma answered with a slight delay.

"That just about covers it." the Brakefather muttered.

"Yesh." Spamcan answered.

"OK, enough with the agreeing, we all wanted to come here for VARIOUS reasons, and now, literally the ENTIRE railway is on our neck!" Diesel snapped

"Natura--..." Derek was cut off.

"OH SHUT IT! Who's leading the bunch, anyway?" the black engine growled.

"I've left BoZo in charge." Cromwell answered "He has a great sense of direction."

"Yeah, I suppose that's true..." Diesel muttered "Still, it'll take time..."

"About I week, I believe..." Cromwell answered "'Till everyone's here. Literally. EVERYONE."

The engines just groaned.

Diesel suddenly looked up, and an expression of deep suspicion creeped onto his face, as he took a slow, deep glance at the Brakefather.

"But tell me..." he spoke slowly, his irritated voice going smooth and acute "HOW did you ended up back in service, Don?"
The brown engine shot a disparaging glare at Diesel.

"Well, unlike you, you sorry excuse of a shunter, these fine, stud lads were altruistic and noble enough to grant me my only wish: a new motor! They've got it from a Russian heavy-weight freight engine who had somehow ended up here, and who was doughty enough to offer ONE of his eighteen cylinder engines for me... Well, after a bit of... "Fillip"..." he smirked darkly, before breaking down into an evil chortle...

All engines shuddered at that last comment, Apart from the Iron Twins, who grinned viciously.

Even the mares and the god took an uneasy step back...

Suddenly, Cromwell seemed to remember something... Something... Unsettling...

"Cue on that..." he spoke hastily "I think I should of mentioned it before... One UNWANTED person have joined us as well..."

"Who?" Diesel asked, before they all went a bit pale "Oh, God save us..."

"I'm right here, you know!" Alexei grumbled.

"Oh... Right... Didn't see you there..." Diesel replied, SLIGHTLY surprised. He then looked towards the gas-turbine engine again, wide-eyed.

"Cromwell... Please, tell me, it ISN'T... HER..." he shuddered...

"Oh, no-no-no-NOOO!" Cromwell exclaimed, before shuddering delicately "I wasn't talking about Mrs. Cruelly..."
All the engines, AND Alexei, let out a relieved sigh...

"But HE is, in fact..." he was cut off, when they heard an all-too-familiar whistle and loud chuffing approaching them.

"Wha-Who-Why-WHAT? WHATISTHAT?!" Bowler panicked, hyperventilating (literally, as his radiator's rotor buzzed up loudly).

"What the...?" the Iron Twins mumbled.

"Wow... Is... Is that really...?" Derek asked in surprise.

"It is..." the HSP Twins winced.

"Bloody 'ell!" Spamcan swore, frustrated.

"I'll say...!" Stuck-Up blurted out.

"Aiaiaiii..." the Brakefather groaned...

"Oh dear..." Cromwell moaned...

"Oh no... Oh no! It can't be... It... CAN'T... Possibly beeee...!" Diesel whimpered, as the latest visitor arrived, stopping beside Cromwell, wheesing out steam...

"STEAMIE?!"

Yup, it was Steamie. A fluorescent green saddle-tank steam engine, with six small wheels, connected via traction rod, a small, stubby black funnel, a stout dome, a small cab with an arched roof, a small bunker, filled with plastic-looking coal, round, white buffers on sparkling red buffer plates, his young, juvenile face bearing the most biggest, SICKENINGLY cheerful smile that Equestria had probably ever seen... His face had a small, snub, round nose, big Bambi-eyes, small, delicate eyebrows in contrast of the monsters and colossi the diesels had, and a wrinkle-less face, which still looked like it never even heard of Botox. On the other hand, his smile gave people the feeling his firebox was stuffed to the brim with Prozac.

"Ah, THEEEREEE you are, fellas!" he spoke in an unreal, squeaky voice, with a BIT of londonian in it "I've been looking over WORLDS for you, only to find out you've came... Here..." his voice drowned away, as he looked around, mouth shrunk down into a small, awed gape, as he stared around with dangerously wide eyes... First slowly scanning, his pupils then began to dart around wildly, until he squeezed them shut, as his mouth turned into a wide, shut-mouth Spongebob grin.

He shot a knowing/smug/trolling glance at the diesels.

"Why, guys..." he spoke, his face returning into an ALMOST normal, self-righteous expression "I would of NEVER thought... You lot, out of all the baddies and anti-heroes... Coming too..." he took an impossibly small inhale, then, after an effect pause:

"EQUESTRIAAAAA!!!!!"

While the engines and the mares recovered from a 200 decibel, shrill holler, Alexei tried to clean out his nonexistent ears out with his finger...

"Well, this is off to a ruddy marvelous start..." he uttered to himself.

Prologue - Part 4

"Well... This is rather interesting..."
"You're putting it lightly..."

That was the first conversation between the Doctor and the Brakefather.

All of them, ponies, engines, and the godly entity were resting a bit further from the portal, the engines parked under a grove of beeches. More of the other worlds machines were coming out from the portal, steadily, some pulling or pushing out trains (with a few unfortunate middle engines). Beside the first arrivals: Derek, Diesel, Spamcan, Old Stuck-up, Bowler, 'Arry & Bert, the Brakefather, Pip & Emma, Cromwell (& Mr. Bottomsly), and, of course, Steamie - so, beside the usual scum, a LOT more were coming, continuously, and without any sign of stopping.

More engines parked beside them. Most of them were diesels, but there were also quite a few steam engines, and few other, diesel-like engines, but they made a low droning sound with a repetitive, obtuse clanking noise. Some of them had weird, fragile-looking metal structures on their roofs, usually in pairs, while others had protruding metal parts on their boogies.

"What sort of engines are those?" Derpy asked. Thankfully, both her eyes were aimed at the general direction of the odd machines.

"Those are 'electric' engines." Bowler explained "They're the third big branch of enginekind. You see, instead of running on diesel fuel like us, or... Uuugh... Running on coal and water like steam engines, they collect electricity from an overhead wire system above the rails, with those furling apparatuses on their tops, called "pantographs"..."

"Or..." Derek added "They collect the electricity from a so-called "third rail", which is located next to the real rails they roll on, usually higher than ground level." he began to smirk "Heh, I'm not sure WHERE they are getting the power right now, since there isn't any strip of wire or third rail in sight, but hey, we've just rolled here without using rails."

This was partly true.

The dimension-hopping device Derek had brought an arseload of (on the Thin Git's beer money, if you recall the last part) was specially customized for locomotives, allowing them to easily roll on any surface, as the machine generated a perfectly fitting stripe of rail just underneath their wheels.

"Bloody brilliant. these rail generators, aren't they?" said a cheery voice. It belonged to one of the newcomers, a Rail Blue colored Class 47 'Brush type' diesel, with a yellow cab. It's fair to say, that he showed the truly vast imagination of his creators, as his name was simply 'Brush'. An interesting feature of this particular engine was his mustache - he had one, trough not out of facial hair.

In the middle of his face (located lower than what was the design's standard) was a large, empty, rectangle-shaped black spot, with two lamps on it's sides. It was presumably made so that his headcode could be literally highlighted, but no-one has ever seen him with one.

Brush was a cheerful, curious fellow, yet, as many of the senior members of the Mainland Railway system, or Barrow Regional Transit (or, the Other Railway), he was similarly "mature" as his peers. Yet, he was one of the few engines who still had (retained) his optimism, and, most importantly - still did work, full heartedly, and on time, which was completely unlike any diesel, moreover, unlike any type of railway vehicle if it's the bloody OTHER Railway we're talking about!

"I have to agree with you, Brush, old chap!" Stuck-up smirked "They are most comfortable, and provide a certain freedom that COMMON rails never did!" he continued, daydreaming.

Noticing the dreamy look in the express engine's eyes, Diesel snickered.

"Thank Goodness we've NEVER worn clothes, otherwise, well, I don't know what SORT of display you would of did in front of us..."

As the others laughed, Stuck-up snorted angrily.

"Don't be obscene, Diesel! Besides, GOD knows what YOU'VE been up to in the back of the shed with those SMUTTY magazines you have stockpiled there!"

An even stronger cackle burst out from the engines, as Diesel reversed a bit, looking very embarrassed, eyes darting around angrily and suspiciously, on his colleagues. This, however, caught Rainbow Dash's attention.

"Really? What SORT of magazines you have there, Diesel?" she asked with a smug look on her face...

"Well, THAT'S a good question! So, out with it, Diesel!" Cromwell smirked "WHAT sort of magazines you fancy in particular?"

The jet black shunter's eyes darted around, looking from face to face, meeting his colleagues' suspicious and malicious expressions. Feeling like a cornered dog (which he was), he finally blurted out:

"P-PlayTrain..."

BUT, just as his associates were gathering their breaths for another uproar of guwaffs, his devious, triumphant look returned.

"But you should ALL know that well by now, considering MOST of you had already asked for me to lend some in the past, and usually returned it with grease spots on them." he grinned, then added with a cheap Aussie accent "NOW who's th' wanka'?"

The other engines reversed, looking more than a bit ashamed. Even the mares felt a blush coming to their faces after such revelation. Fluttershy, however, seemed oblivious to the obvious, matter-of-factually innuendo.

"PlayTrain?" she repeated "That's an odd name for a magazine..." she pondered "I mean, I heard of other magazines with similar names, but whether they were... Smutty, or... Oh." she realize, and gasped, blushing in a deep shade of red "OH MY!"

She passed a disbelieving look at the engines, all of who looked away in brisket - something which they haven't felt for years, given the life they were living - and naturally, some felt that this was an offence.

"WHA'? Eve' us ENG'NES 'ave needs!" Spamcan retorted.

"We undahstand, bu' that raises a question..." Applejack replied, her blush turning as red as an apple "Do engines...? ...Can engines...?"

The engines looked back it her, now perplexed, prominent eyebrows rising everywhere.

"What she means is... You know..." Rainbow Dash tried, flushing madly as well "Do you guys...?"

"Do what?" the Doctor asked, oblivious. Derpy, who was watching the awkward situation with a soft blush and a wry smile, now facehoofed, and whispered into the Doctor's ear. In a matter of second, the Doctor was blushing like crazy as well.

Even Alexei was slightly red in the face, pulling on the neck of his coat and coughing.

"Do you... Oh, how to put it...?!" Twilight was redder than anyone else, and her mind was once again scrambled, as she searched for a way to ask the uncomfortable, yet inevitable question in a light way... A correct way.

"Do wha'?" Bert asked, now curious.

"Errrr... Oh, you know..." Rarity muttered, turning her head a bit, sheepishly, fidgeting with her hair "Do... Stuff..."

"Oh, we do LOTSA' stuff!" 'Arry replied, unamused.

"Indeed?" the white mare asked back, her blush turning deeper.

"Yea', we shun', we pull trains, d'liveries, ya 'no', th' usuall stuff..."

The Traveler was getting tired of beating around the bush.

"No!" she snapped "What they meant is, DO. YOU. GUYS. Couple?!"

That seem to have gotten trough, as the engines' eyes went wide, apart from Bert, who still looked bemused.

"Uh, yeah, we do c'ple to tru'ks an' coaches, wha's wi' tha'?"

"Idiot!" 'Arry growled at him "They meant "COUPLIN'"!"

"Oh!" Bert muttered "Tha' figures..."

"Weeeell... Uuuum..." Diesel uttered, searching for words...

"Errr... You see..." Derek began, but went no further than that...

Another diesel, a Class 33 in an old RailFreight livery, plucked up courage:

"We... Do..." he began "But... It's... You know... It's complicated... We'd rather not tell you... It would mess up your mind.

"Ah, THANK YOU, Burbock!" Derek sighed, visibly relieved - That was very clever.

"No prob." the grey diesel replied.

With THAT awkward question out of the way, the mares and the machines continued their discussion.

"So, in short, what is your world like?" Twilight asked.

"In short?" another diesel, a green and cream colored one with a warning panel yellow face, asked after an angry snort from it's squashed, triangle-shaped nose, his nostrils flaring out a bit as he did.

"In short?" he repeated, with the same false, sonorous voice "Bloody crummy, poorly maintained, cheap as flippin' 'ell, and as enjoyable to live an work on as a leprosy crematorium, to say the least."

"It is the exact opposite of this beautiful, thought, slightly unrealistic land." another diesel, a maroon colored Class 52 with cream windscreen and window frames took the floor, speaking in an lordly, yet, petty bourgeois-esque voice, thought not unkind. He glanced at the mares with a tired and sad, but also calm and gentle look, his Grecian nose raising slightly as he grimaced a bit.

"Imagine a concrete jungle." he spoke softly, his graying, wavy eyebrows rising up a bit "Tall buildings and asphalt covered roads, making the ground look like it's made of stone, weed growing out of the cracks of the pavement, and where the ground is clearly shown it is nothing more than filthy mud or dirty ballast, infertile and uneven. The air is thick with exhaust fumes, cigarette and chimney smoke, the sky is always cloudy, the weather intolerably cold and moist, and everybody is either irritated or miserable."

"AND, they're not even trying to help it!" a raspy voice added, as it's owner, a Class 40 in an ugly dark olive color rolled forward. Excluding his roof, buffer plates and boogies, his body was in this same color, including his face. His hawk nose jerked upwards slightly, as he also grimaced, is if he had an itchy face. His thin, shortly cut eyebrows frowned in an indignant scowl, he continued in his raspy cockney accent.

"Our so-called creators and masters are the most horrid bunch of scumbags that you'll EVER come 'cross - and God have mercy on you if you do! They're greedy, smelly, hateful, megalomaniac, bipolar, nihilistic egoists as cruel as a pandemic. They're also quite feeble and pathetic on their own, but once they got their machines and buildings in front of them - like us, for example -, they become the unstoppable annihilators that is worth destroying for them."

And with that, the three diesels finished, they lined up beside each other, as living displays of spitefulness, fatigue and scurrility.

"Well... Thanks... For the info..." the purple unicorn replied, after a long pause "...And you are?"

"Rhodders." thus the yellow faced.

"Matthias." thus the maroon one.

"Brock." thus the snot green.

"And I'm Vac! - another, rattlebrained voice added.

The next minute, a with a deep and loud whizzing and rumbling cacophony, yet another diesel, a Rail Blue Class 50 (strongly resembling a Class 31) rolled towards them, stopping beside the three with an ear-splitting grating noise, his engine backfiring before it turned off. It was a wee engine, to be frank. His cabs were completely yellow, his window frames black, his roof light gray, ending in a boxy shape above each cab, with two great big lamps facing forewards on each sides. His face expressed naive, gleefully unaware cheerfulness, with a broad, yet, soft smile, a sharp and long nose, and two big eyes, one lazy, but the other having a clear, great pupil which shined with expertise.

"Excuse me? Did you said your name was... "Wack"?" Rarity asked, bemused.

The other three diesels gave a tired sight.

"No..." Rhodders muttered in a tired manner "Actually, he's called 'Hoover', after the noise his air filters used to make, but we all call him 'Vac', as in, 'Vacuum cleaner', because it sounds so much like... "Wack"..."

"An' he's a wackey one, Ah presume." Applejack added, eyeing up the infantile-looking engine "Ah have th' feelin' he an' Ditzy will be good friends..."

"Well, not as "Wackee" as Steamie..." Brush replied, shuddering slightly "Anyways, where's that little lunatic right now?"

"He's hangin' ou' wi'h 'at pin' co'on can'y statue o' a pony!" Bert answered, before quietly muttering "Luc'y BASTARD..."

Steamie was near the portal, greeting every engine, rolling stock or nicked, self-aware equipment (that including the rolling cranes from the Ironworks' and the Docks' yards) that came trough. introducing the ever-so-bewildered machines to a wide-eyed Pinkie Pie who stared at them innocently and with deep, sincere curiosity - not eyeing them up mockingly like most people did. It was a very, very, very, VERY weird, yet somewhat, somehow, in some distant way, comforting greeting for them.

"Hellooo, Rats! Nice to see ya! Welcome to Equestria!" the green tank engine chuffed, as a puzzled Two-tone BR Green Class 25 with full yellow ends passed by.

"Rats? That's an odd name." the pink earth pony pondered aloud.

"Back in the days, his class was said to be seen everywhere around the country, so the people said they were "as common as rats"."

Pinkie frowned.

"But then... Calling him "Rats" isn't exactly nice..." she muttered "It's actually quite mean..."

"That's what I thought as well..." Steamie replied "But he said he didn't mind, and everybody else called him like that, so I don't think it's a problem."

It actually was.

Rats hated to be called like that, but nobody bothered to take consideration about his feelings, and they were just plain lazy to call him by his number, even though it was PAINTED on him, with bold, white digits. In the end, he grew tired of correcting the others, so, and because he didn't found any other name that he liked, he went with this name.

Nobody cared.

Nobody cares.

Nobody will.

Rats could live with that.

He even began to hear a certain familiarity, a certain affection, something he could almost take, or half-mistake for friendship, in the voices saying his name.

So, Rats didn't mind.

His roof was gray, anyway.

Back in the bosket:

"So, what's up with Steamey, anyway?" Applejack asked, her head cocked to the side in wonder.

"Yeah, I mean, he's more random and, uh... "Jolly" than Pinkie Pie! I didn't even though that's possible!" Rainbow Dash added, sounding much bothered.

"Umm... I've also noticed that Steamy... Seems to be a bit, ummmm... Off the ground, if you don't mind me saying so..." Fluttershy joined in, quietly.

The engines slowly glanced at Diesel, who took a long, exasperated sigh, then, after groumbling something that was incomprehensible, but didn't exactly sounded polite, he explained:

"First of all, there's a backstory, ahem! In our world, all steam traction, so, steam boats, steam-powered pumps and other machinery, that including steam locomotives, is near completely gone. Time has passed, and newer, more efficient and economical technologies had blossomed out and advanced, pass the power of steam. So, steam machines were mass scrapped, which, in the case of rails, means they were either replaced by road vehicles or airplanes, or by diesel and electric traction - diesels and electric engines, respectively. But, as steam power gained many, many fans over the decades - heck, it may even be over a century - SOME engine works still produce the long fallen kinds, mostly for museums and heritage railways. Now, the world's, unarguably, most biggest ACTUALLY regularly servicing heritage railways is located at our own railway's back door."

Diesel's face turned glum

"Unfortunately for them, but mostly for us Other engines, a peculiar, horrific disease, bringing delirium and dementia, had spread all over the island, bringing down both people and engines, effectively making it, what we call, a "saccharine purgatory". Now, for some odd and funny - and by funny, I mean HORRIBLE - reasons, the local workshops in our regions produce engines that were LITERALLY made for a railway in such mental state. But, after reports of accidents caused by infantile engines on that accursed railway, said workshops offered us a deal: they cover the quite common "financial irregularities" of our abhorred railway, and we, in return, train the chavvy, cheery and downright PSYCHOTIC noobs they send us."

The jet black Class 08 groaned. The other engines' face was blank, clearly, their thoughts were in a completely different place right now. The mares, the baby dragon, and the inter-dimensional God, on the other hand, listened with interest.
After a long pause, Diesel continued.

"Steamie was the first temp, and I was chosen - forced - to be his mentor. Now, it's best I not lie to you..." Diesel began, before grumbling to himself "...As I don't wanna end up raped, sent to the bloody Moon or turned into a questionable pastry..." and then pondered moderately aloud "...Although, a black streak would be an advancement for rainbows..."

"What?" Twilight asked in behalf of all of them, as they all, quite clearly, heard what the coarse engine muttered.

"Never mind." he said quickly, before continuing "So, I won't lie to you: I'm a right bastard, and a complete slacker when it comes to work, and the LAST thing I wanted to do is to spend my time with a cherpy, novice drip that has to know just EVERYTHING. So, I decided to cut my work short, and tricked him to embarrass himself, like a certain painer ta--... ENGINE did it with me, YEARS ago..."

"I know you're out there, Montague..." he thought for himself "...And I still remember... So, just you wait... I'll find ya one day... And revenge will be sweeeeeet.... So sweeeeeet...."

"Um... Diesel?" Derek asked, slightly worried by the grimdark and malevolent look on his colleague's face, which was slowly accompanied by a creepy, EVIL smile which, again, slowly, turned to a haunting grin...

"Huh, wha'?" he blurted out, blinking and looking around. His associates and hosts looked at him in a mixture of worry and fear.

And somehow...

It didn't felt good.

Well, it did felt bloody great, actually, having them cower with him in sight...

But this time...

It just didn't felt... Right...

And that scared him...

He never cared about what was right or wrong - mind though, that he had standards!

He only did work, and ONLY that work, if there was something in return.

But at that moment, he felt, with his (jet black, flat, sharp-edged metal) heart, that he was doing (it) wrong.

"So... What happened with Steamie?" Rarity asked.

The shunter sighed.

"The trick was simple. I told him to pull a line of trucks, as his first lesson of shunting. Now, what you should know about trucks, or freight cars, is that they're horrid, troublesome, they hate us, they're favoritists and nepotists, and they, under NO CIRCUMSTANCES, can be trusted. Also, they're quite old, most of their kinds are no longer produced, due to safety regulations - no wonder we have arseloads of 'em! The line of trucks in question were the oldest and 'horriblest', and had not been moved for a long time... In fact, they were so old, and so horrible, they've probably NEVER been moved AT ALL! The Thin Git even had them registered as a historical landmark! Everything to bring more gullible tourists, you know... Long story short, he tried to pull them, and when he couldn't, he tried singing to them..."

The engine made a pained grimace, as the agony of the memory sunk in...

"...And what that... That... THING produced trough it's smoke box door crack was... Truly... No, I just CAN'T tell you..." he shuddered "Let's just say, I REALLY don't envy those trucks... Especially since they SMASHED themselves into bits, just to avoid hearing another note from him... Anyways, afterwards, he asked me, "why didn't I told him that he shouldn't even have touched them?". Hmph. "

He paused for a moment.

"I gave him my "big speech of the deepest truth":"

"Because you needed a taste of reality, my complete opposite of 'friend'. You steam engines are ALL the same, especially these days! You're all in your delightful little bubble, as if the world is nothing but sunshine and lollipops and toy shops - it's SICKENING. You wanted teaching, and I thought you the only thing you'll ever need to know: Life's a BITCH, and then, you're scrap! The Real World is tough, dirty, and horribly unfair, and that's on a GOOD DAY! The ONLY way to survive is to be an even BIGGER bastard than everyone else! THAT'S why I did this to you, Steamie! To save you from yourself!

...Well, that, and that I enjoy watching other people suffer! Goodbye!"

Little to minus approval met this recite.

Twilight's face showed a mixture of disdain and disgust.

Applejack looked like she was getting ready to buck something with all her might - with said something being a certain someone's ugly face.

Rainbow Dash had her "NOT. Cool." face on, only amped up with 80%.

Fluttershy seemed to be on the verge of a "Stare"-spree.

Rarity, usually calm and collected, seemed to be struggling not to yell - or roar, more like.

Pinkie Pie, who came back a few minutes ago, and was listening, now looked at the engine is if he had broken a Pinkie Promise - on a regular basis, 24/7, around the year, every year since the creation of the universe so far.

Spike, usually sardonic, now looked more sullen than all the engines put together - and that's saying something, considering only the Thin Git was capable of that so far.

As for Alexei, well...

He shook his head, with disapproving expression, before uttering:

"Typical Diesel. Hates hope, joy, and steamies."

Even his colleagues were shooting looks of disapproval, usually shock or irritation, but some - Pip & Emma in particular - gave him an unearthly cold glare.

He first blankly looked around, then, his poker face broke with an angry frown.

"Now don't you DARE...! Don't you bloody DARE look at me like THAT!" he spat "YOU'VE been mentoring the bloody temps as well, and I've seen ALL of you pull off stunts and tricks FAR more horrid than what I did! And by horrid, I mean, by MY standards! And Pip and Emma, WHAT THE HELL?! As far as I'm concerned, molestation and RAPE is not within work ethics! 'Arry, Bert, don't you guys THINK - ah, who am I kidding? - that your trainee should still be IN ONE PIECE, or at least, ALLIVE after the first day?!"

He then cast his penal glance at the ponies and the dragon.

"And don't YOU think I'll think YOU'RE in the all-clear? PAH! It's exactly the innocent looking little critters ALL should be careful with."

He looked at each one of them, individually:

"So, tell me, pegasus, exactly WHAT are rainbows made of?!"

Rainbow Dash took a step back, her pupils suddenly pinprick-sized, and her eyes filling with hot tears of shock and dread.

"Or what about you? Is it ONLY apples you and your emotionless brother had been slicing in that farmhouse of yours?"

Applejack stumbled back, eyes wide with fear, and her expression being a mixture of anger and disbelief.

"SO, HAVE you EVER considered making leather clothes, fashionista? Perhaps using the full pallet of the SPECTRUM?!"

Rarity's eyes became watery, her head hanging down in a weird sense of grief, as she tried to hold back the tears - and failed.

"And let us not forget the bookworm! So, HOW FAR have you've advanced in your experiments, you lunatic?!"

Twilight heaved back, pupils shrunk and shaking, as a single tear rolled down from her eyes. The incredible, oppressing feeling of terror had taken reign in her heart.

"And don't think I've forgotten you, Butchershy! I just wonder WHY the woodland critters even DARE to come any close to you with that ominous shed of yours. They must smell it from MILES!"

Fluttershy covered her mouth, as if trying to hold back a scream, as her pupils became plate-sized and shiny by the tears. She plopped onto her flanks, feeling miserable.

Pinkie stood foreward, looking less-than-confident, as if her attempts were propelled by vanity. They weren't of course, but that's what it just looked like.

"I'm not s-scared of you!" she muttered, with a cracked voice "Ha! Ha! H-ha!"

Diesel's expression turned commiserative.

"I guess that's alright..." he replied, before a viscious look came over his face "...Considering that YOU should be more afraid of YOURSELF! Isn't that right, Pinkamena?"

Pinkie Pie suddenly found herself in a dark and empty place, illuminated by a single spotlight locked on her. She slumped to the ground, her mane and tail deflating and straightening out, her heart filled with sorrow.

"B-But... That's just... A... A fanfic..." she muttered, desperately.

"...In OUR world, maybe..." the nefarious diesel replied "...But here, it's a mean old rumor. And you know what rumors are like..." he grinned evily, before breaking into a short cackle "MADE ANY DELICIOUS, SINFUL CUPCAKES RECENTLY, EY, DIANA?! HA HA HAA!"

He then turned his gaze to the last equestrian standing.

"Ah, and you there, dragon boy... Hmmm... We'll see, what'll time prove: personality, or race? Occasion, or history? Your love..." he smirked, savouring the moment "...Or your GREED?"

Spike just stared, his body becoming rigid, as he wept, a horrified, sad expression growing on his face...

"Okay, that's quite enough, Diesel!" Derek interrupted, sounding quite angered.

"Yeah, calm the fuck down, you maniac!" Bowler added "Sure, we did quite a few mistakes--..."

"Mistakes?! MISTAKES?! You nearly DROWNED that engine in BLEACH!"

"I mean, errors, but we all live in the same place. You know, how the saying goes: Such as life!"

"Exactly my point! After ALL we've been trough and put EACH OTHER trough, I don't know what you find so blooming hurtful in what I did to that little sod!"

"That's it exactly! That it was YOU that turned Steamie into a clinic case!" Stuck-Up replied "NONE of us went as far as THAT!"

"What?! I thought you already KNEW...! Never mind. Anyways, NONE of us?" Diesel retorted, shooting a glance at the High-speed twins.

"Well, truth as it is, I still don't understand WHAT these mares have ever done to you!" Derek snapped, his anger catching the black shunter off guard "I say, you own an appology to them, Diesel!"

"E-Exactly!" Cromwell replied "You don't answer someone who opens his or her hands - or hooves - to you with generosity, to offer you his or her friendship, with mental and moral terror!"

After listening to all the reasons, Diesel did something he rarely does:

He reconsidered his act.

And then, he took a deep breath...

"Oh, all right, alright..." he grumbled, before turning to the ponies "I'm sorry I've upset you like that, but I can't just stand and bare people look at me reprehensibly for things I can't fully be blamed for! You don't even fully know us! And you don't know what OUR world is like, either... Well, actually, you do, as I've told you: rough, dirty, and horribly unfair. And yes, that's on a fairly good day. We are, but born like this. All of us." he said, glancing over his associates with the faintest, mere hint of compassion "It's not OUR fault, that we are such awful engines! We are a product of our environment!"

"Indeed." Stuck-up added "Just TRY to spend a week, working for the Thin Git, on the Other Railway! You'll be as morose and harsh as us in a matter of hours."

"Our worl' is a shi'y place, whe'e ya HA'E ev'ryon' else's guts, an' we HAV' t' see each othe' EV'RY DAY! An' we 'aven' eve' MENT'ONED tru's, co'ches, O' pass'ngers!" Spamcan joined in.

"You see, dear ponies, we all have our fair share of manure every day. We live in a place where everyone else rather dies, and our only sole purpose in life is what we're built for: work. And everyone around us claims it's better NOT to work, to have others do the job for you. And naturally, these people are the greatest examples of their words!" Bowler grumbled.

"You see it now?" Diesel asked "It's shit, isn't it? But, that's our home. And that's our life. We can't chose it. ESPECIALLY we. You're having a bigger share of luck there. Bigger than our's, anyway." the shunter noticed he wasn't helping, so he changed his tone "So, why worry about a few horrid rumors. I have a feeling this world is not as sugar-coated as I've expected, so a little notoriety will only help you." he finished.

And, after a small pause:

"You're not angry at me, are you?"

"...No..."

The engines' eyes shot fully open.

"WHAT?!"

"I m-mean... W-we would've r-reacted the s-same way..." Twilight's voice was still shaky, but she slowly regained the precious confidence she'd lost. And with that, came a wry, small smile "W-Well, not the SAME way, b-but... Similarly..." she muttered, smiling gently.

"Yeah..." Rainbow Dash was being careful not to sound sad "Not as harsh... Not THIS harsh..."

"All in all..." Applejack continued "But not QUITE th' same..."

"Apology accepted." Fluttershy replied, her tears already dried up.

"That's good to hear." Diesel replied, smiling a gentle, honest smile. It made his face lighten up, and look nicer.

"You know what THIS recalls for?' Pinkie suddenly asked, her mane back in shape "A PAR-TAAAY!!!"

But as the confetti and balloons flew out, the High-Speed Twins interrupted:

"Yes. A MODERATE one." said Emma.

"Indeed. A MATURE one." said Pip.

"Huh?" Pinkie replied "Moderate? Mature? How is THAT fun?" she asked, looking puzzled.

"Oh, it has it's joy." Stuck-up replied. "But first, do you have any... Beverages?"

"Drinks? Sure." Twilight replied "Wait, what sort?"

"Hmmmm... Weeell... That of the alcoholic kind?" Cromwell asked.

"But we aren't allowed to drink any yet!" Fluttershy replied, but upon noticing the disapproving looks coming from the cyan pegasus and the orange earth pony, she asked "Are we?"

"Well, don' worry, we are." Bert smirked "An' I suggest ya brin' sum ligh' stuff fo' ya'self, then."

"So... Booze, is it?" Applejack asked, before pondering "Weeeell..."

A good 20 minutes later, she returned, doing what seemed to be impossible: rolling an ENORMOUS barrel, as long as Old Stuck-up, Spamcan, and Bowler coupled together, and as wide as Pip and Emma, back to back.

"I hope ya'll like cider. - the earth pony called out - 'Cause then ya'll LOVE Zap-apple cider."

After moments of recovery from the heavenly sight, the engines' grin grew wide.

"Ho' do ya li'e THEM apples?" Bert snickered. 'Arry's mouth was too watery for him to speak.

"Well... This'll be an interesting party..." Steamie muttered, coming back from the portal "By the way, everyone's here!"

The noon turned afternoon over time, and then, to evening...

Celestia had just lowered the sun, and the party was still on the move.

A drinking contest had started up between the mares, and between the mares and engines... The Traveler, claiming that as a god, he shouldn't drink, just sat down, quietly watching the events...

Applejack usually had the strength for drinks FAR more stronger than cider, but ZAP-apple cider was no simple drink. Her opponent was the grimy goods engine, Spamcan. And he drank with gusto. This cider of some sort was fairly good, had a nice kick, and warmed him up inside, delicately. The Class 46 never had problems with alcohol, and he was a heavy drinker, anyway, tough, that may be because he was a diesel, had fuel tanks FAR bigger than a pony's belly - or entire digestive system.

By this point, the orange mare felt bloated, and she could literally hear the liquor slosh inside her after the slightest movement. With a rather loud, impolite burp, she plopped onto her flanks, groaning dreadfully... The diesel laughed rudely, before he called out to her.

"Oi, wha's up, pony? Can' ya ta'e a drink?"

Applejack's initial reaction was to accept the next wave of this long-stretching challenge, but as she stood back up, she actually FELT her stomach sway back and forth with a gurgle... Letting out another, smaller burp, she slowly sat back down, rubbing her stomach with a hoof.

"A-Ah don't know, sugahcube..." she moaned "Ah feel too full..."

Spamcan smiled at her in a big-brotherly-fatherly way, before spitting out the hose which he used to drink the cider from the tanker truck shunted beside him.

"Then I guess I shoul' ca'l i' a fi'ish fo' t'day." he replied, before belching loudly, which was followed by a long flame flaring out from his exhaust chutes "'Scuse me." he grinned, in a way that even made the soon-to-be-stiff-drunk earth pony chuckle.

A dark figure tried to reach the hose. It's hooves were just at it's tip, when...

"NO!" Applejack snapped, and swiped the pipe away "No, Rainbow Dash, you can' have any cider! Your home is up in the air! The last thing we need is to have you stuck in jail, OR in hospital..."

"Or in a coffin!" the goods engine added.

"...OR in a coffin, because of drunk flyin'! No way, sarge, not on MY cider!"

"...Cider..." the cyan pegasus whimpered with puppy eyes.

"Sorry, lass!" D199 replied, smirking mordantly "We'e too DRUN' fo' THA' t' 'ave effec' on us! Bu' don' worry, WE won' fly! Heheheheee..."

This gave Dash an idea.

"Actually..." she began "I'm sleeping at Fluttershy's tonight..."

"All the better!" the orange pony replied "Then you'll ESPECIALLY have to stay sober! 'Shy had already had her fair share!" she continued, pointing towards a very merry-looking yellow pegasus, resting on the ledge going around a certain green and yellow Class 17's engine blocks.

"Oh, I say, this cider sure is yummy!" said Derek, cheerily. Unlike most Other Railway engines, he didn't had a problem keeping in track of how many ethanol (or methanol) he devoured, and also, had a bigger alcohol tolerance than what most engines would have expected (on the other buffer, drunkenness hit him like a ton of bricks).

"You said it. *hic* Hihiheee..." Fluttershy squirmed, a strong booze-blush spread across her face, as she leaned against Derek's engine...

"Oh my. Miss Fluttershy, I believe you had quite enough."Derek scolded her paternalistically.

"Nuuu, just a little more..." the pegasus replied between another *hic* and chuckle...

Upon seeing that, Rainbow Dash's face fell, and she slowly flew between the two hazard-striped shunters.

"OI! Ya two ain' dri'in' t'nigh'?" the goods engine asked them.

"No' t'nigh'!" 'Arry replied "'Der' moigh' be sum wor' t'morrow."

The rainbow-maned pony approached them.

"Hey guys..." she uttered, moping "Can I bunk here?"

The Iron Twins exchanged looks.

"Sur', go a'ea'." 'Arry replied.

"Ya can slee' i' one o' ou' cabs." Bert added.

"Thanks, guys." Dash replied, smiling slightly, before flying into Bert's cab.

It was as grimy on the inside as it was on the outside, with the control panel all greasy, and the floor littered with cigarette stumps and one or two plastic cups, and the floor covered with ash, soot and damp dust. The worn leatherette seat, on the other hand, seemed to be very comfortable... After a bit of fumbling, she found a lever that turned the seat into an rudimentary bed. Lumpy, and too small for a human, it was perfect for the bereft pegasus.

She slumped down, and fell asleep instantly.

Little did she know, that the twins only dared to rest after she had began snoozing.

The party rocked on, moderately and maturely, as it was requested. Only half of the engines were pissed already, most of the trucks were down, the coaches had only began.

Old Stuck-up, the senior express engine of the railway, was among his (tipsy) express coaches, who were busy chatting with each other. The diesel was also well over a few 'botties' (especially since he was drinking from drums), and was keeping eye contact - at least, trough his monocle - with Rarity. The white mare was also done with a few shots by now, her glass refilled every now and then by an eager Spike, until she sent him to rest (as he nearly broke the barrel when he buckled, falling asleep).

Afterwards, she was refilling the glass herself, whilst having a conversation with the posh engine about royalties.

Both of them were quite fuddled by now, but they kept good control of it, otherwise, they'd long by then would of became the laughing stock among the others.

"I'm telling you, dear, our Princess Celestia is truly as benevolent and noble as everyone says so. True, there ARE these horrid gossips going around, buuut... Also, there's Prince Luna, and she's just the exploratory statue of innocence! Well, even if a bit forceful at times..." the fashionista pony finished with a smirk and a snorting giggle.

"I must say, that sounds swell, darling!" Stuck-up replied, with the mere hint of grogginess in his voice "Far better than our scandalous "Royal" family! I've seen more royalties in fast food restaurants than in the Palace!" and he broke into a blustering guffaw.

Gradually, both of them came down with drunkenness, with Stuck-up parked aside from the crowd, his monocle laying on the grass, and Rarity all nested up in the grand, fake fur covered seat in his cab.

"Hehee, I'm quite tanked up right now..." Steamie chuckled, his face red after the many barrels of cider.

"Ya sure are, young'un." BoZo replied.

BoZo was a... Wee engine, to say the least. A rare steam-diesel hybrid, he could be either considered as a unique attempt in locomotive design, or, more realistically, a horrible abomination of enginekind. Being built up from scratch (AND without any sort of planning), from half-worthy parts cannibalized from scrapped engines, he had more leaks than a WAG's head. Strangely enough, while visibly blowing out thick plumes of used steam and diesel exhaust, he still - SOMEHOW - met the emission standards of Britain - that including the smoking ban in public places. As for sight, he looked like a tank engine of some sort, with a long boiler and angular side tanks, a dome that seemed to be a simple metal pipe cut down in size with an oversized beer cap welded on it, a funnel that was truly funnel shaped, and dent on the middle, making it lean forwards slightly. He had six wheels joined by traction rods, and a small pair of wheels behind, to support the weight of the flat-roofed cab. His - very probably intoxicated - designers and creators gave him - very fittingly - a steam horn, which he loved to blow on until he was all out of breath or got arrested for public disturbance.

How, or rather, WHY he even worked was a mystery. He did, and aside from the common leaks and occasional overhauls - or something - he was working fine. I mean, he was only second to Derek in the break-down department.

At the moment, both his fuel tank, his boiler, AND every other part of him were a different liquid should be was filled to the brim with cider. Sweet-smelling gasses and vapors were spreading from his fractions in thick plumes, knocking out everyone around them.

Everyone, except for Pinkie.

It was either the fact that the laws of physics, and thus, normal body physics don't applied to her, or the fact that she was already plastered, forgetting the fact that this wasn't just ANY cider, but ZAP-apple cider, which was known for it's high levels of Rainbow spirit, apple fiber, and ethanol. For the diesels' delight, mostly ethanol.

Saying she was tipsy would been like saying water is wet, the sky is blue, Stuck-Up's a posh twat, Spamcan's a filthy bastard, Derek's a wuss, Bowler's a hypochondriac, 'Arry & Bert are dimwitted thugs, Pip & Emma are bitchy liberals, BoZo's a design catastrophe, Steamie's a sugar-coated, scheming little lunatic (thanks again, Diesel), trucks are annoying little twits, Twilight Sparkle's an obsessive-compulsive book-addict, Rainbow Dash is a tomboy with a questionable sexual preference (at least, from the outside), Applejack's a try-hard applebucker, Rarity's a dress-maniac perfectionist, Fluttershy's shy, Princess Celestia is sunny, Princess Luna is unintentionally anti-social, Discord is stoned, and so on, ed cetera, blah blah blah, yaddy yaddy yadda...

Eh, I'm getting off topic.

So, Pinkie was tipsy like there's no tomorrow, and could do nothing more than to giggle at everything she saw, her face red with party "spirit". And there sure was, at least, ONE thing to giggle about: a queer-looking purple-pink mare with airy, floating mane and tail, she herself floating in the air as well, making funny faces and random noises. She was an earth pony, but she was held up by her slightly inflated flank, while her front was propelled by a green propeller beanie. Her swirly, spiraling pupils darted around randomly, clearly, she was not much as drunk as interested in the weird machines from the other world - she seemed to have a particularly strong interest in Steamie, popping up - or out - at the most random ends of the little locomotive, a jokey smile on her face.

The Doctor had fallen asleep after one shot, leaving Derpy to have a gastronomic discussion with the ever-attentive Vac.

"So you see, the key principal when serving a muffin is - aside from the quality of the muffin itself - the butter. Both quality and amount is important. I'd also like to take this opportunity to warn you. You should NOT, not even in the direst of situations, use..." she shuddered here "...Margarine..."

"Similar things could be said about mignons..." the lazy-eyed diesel replied "While my best advise is to go easy on the icing, I wouldn't stop you from creating new tastes and types. Chocolate mint, with a rum punch filling, for example, if I may use such sayings, really takes the biscuit."

Diesel had parked aside, and was watching the party from a distance. He exchanged a few sophisticated and unsophisticated words with the Brakefather earlier on, and was now watching the others prepared their hangovers. He also had tanker parked beside him, this one actually fitted with a beer tap. His hose was hang on a fork-ended rod that was sticked into the ground in front of him, enabling him to reach out to it with his tongue whenever he felt like drinking.

Deep in thoughts, the jet black shunter was interrupted by a faint purple light... In the distance, he saw the silhouette of a pony, a unicorn, by the looks of it. As it approached, he could identify it's fur color - and thus, it's gender.

"Oh, it's you." he murmured, as Twilight approached him.

"Hello." she greeted him timidly. The Class 08 groaned.

"Ugh, don't be like that." he muttered with annoyance in his voice "I won't bite your head off, or anything."

"Oh! In that case, can I sit here?" she asked. The engine groaned, and rolled his eyes.

"Sure, whatever."

So Twilight sat beside him.

She could've rested her head on the side of the short ladder that led to Diesel's footplate, if she would've dared.

They sat in silence for some time. Twilight felt awkward, she wished to talk to somebody, but if the weird, and considerably mean machine beside her wouldn't talk, neither would she.

But just as the silence grew uncomfortable for her, Diesel spoke up.

"If you're still upset because of my little outburst, then by all means, unload your boring emotional trash bag on me. I couldn't care less. And it'll only be better to you, and la-dee-da..." he mumbled.

The lavender unicorn blinked. Did the locomotive just been offensive and emphatic in the same time?

She couldn't comprehend the idea. This was beyond her concept of cynicism or sarcasm. She couldn't figure out his intentions.

Diesel sipped some cider, face still blank and emotionless, aside from the slight feeling of superiority and the vast, touchable feel of disinterest.

Twilight decided to start again:

"Nice party, isn't it?" she asked, trying to sound hearty "I mean, we followed you guys'... Request..."

"Yeah, you sure did. Smashing party, by the way." came the half-hearted reply "The drink selection could be a BIT wider, though. But I guess I'll just have to get used to it."

"Why? It's not like you're staying here... Forever." the unicorn replied, trying to mimic the diesel's nonchalant mood, and failing miserably in the process. Fortunately, Diesel himself was too unobservant to notice, or care.

"Who knows..." he replied, after a brief silence "Derek's USUALLY not the one to read the small font bit... Although the devices worked out well, SO FAR..."

"Uh-huh..." the purple pony replied.

There was a long pause.

"Diesel..."

The engine glanced at her...

"Why are you... You guys... So sullen?" Twilight asked, looking into his eyes for the first time. All of the engines seemed to have black pupils and irises, fused together, yet, not giving them a "high" look. The light of the night sky reflected in Diesel's eyes as a single spot of white light in the top corners.

"Trough my life so far, I've never seen anything like you guys, and honestly..." Twilight continued, cocking her head to the side, raising a suddenly visible eyebrow "Is there sedative in your fuel tanks... Or whatever you have? Because surely, no one can be THIS bitter and live longer than a day or two."

Diesel sneered.

"Then you better buckle up, Missy. I think I've clearly told you before, that we engines and our personality, our manner, or more likely, the lack of them, and our "work ethics" are, but an accident. We're a product of our environment, raised and blossomed under the less than bothered eye of the Thin Git, living and working on, arguably, the WORST region of the Mainland Railway System, know as the Barrow Regional Transit for business people and rail fags."

Diesel lowered her eyelids, as if remembering.

"Yep. That rotten place where the sun don't shines, thanks to all the bloody factories, heat plants and motorways that cover the air in thick smoke, 24 hours a day. Were the rich is truly dumb and snobbish, where all the chavs thrive. Manners, punctuality and such rubbish rot in the depths of the scrap heap. The budget is lower than a politician's limbo stick. The quality is worse than awful, and all your colleagues are either repulsive, derelict, or downright insane - apart from the occasional wussies and bleeding hearts, naturally.

The engine's gaze turned back to Twilight.

"Our world is different. I've mentioned that before, haven't I? It's cruel. It's crummy. It's shabby and horrid and unfair. People are just a big mass, a sea of faces, all grumpy and smelly. Concrete and smog killing out all the green. And wherever you are, the grass - if there is any - is ALWAYS greener on the other side. And the clouds are only silver lined if the local chemical plant had a leak somewhere. The only way we survived this far is because we're the biggest bastards ever to thread the rails on God's green Earth. And it's not only us diesels, the electrics are just as grouchy and rigid as us, if not more. And those few steam engines that are left are either delirious with near-psychotic levels of euphoria, cranky, or just full of botox and Prozac, and infantile. And even if they aren't they usually have a gutter full of dark secrets from over their long years of hard work - well, in any case, more than absolute, ever-ruling boredom!"

He took a deep breath, and continued:

"The jobs we have are just as bad as everything else, and make everything else even worse. As a result, we're probably the biggest slackers ever to exist, which is quite ironic, considering our sole purpose is to WORK 'til withdrawal. Such as life, I guess. Ranging from radioactive waste disposal runs to the nearest docks to manure delivery from Compost Farms to the Irish border, our work orders are as delightful as repeated enemas, done with sulfuric acid! And I haven't even mentioned the SEWAGE train!"

Diesel groaned in irritation, as Twilight sat silently beside him.

Suddenly, as if guided by an impulse, she climbed up onto the engine's footplate, and, after a moment of hesitation, nuzzled his cool, grey cheek.

After a moment, she stopped, but sat there, still leaning against the ladder going up on his front to the top.

"Well, I can promise one thing: If you're willing to accept this world's normalcy, me and my friends will surely make sure you'll find this place as much enjoyable as... I don't know... Something you enjoy."

"I don't LIKE joy." Diesel replied coldly "Nor do I like hope. But that's very noble of you, Twilight Sparkle."

"You're very welcome, Devious Diesel."

"Wait... HOW do you know my nickname?" the shunter suddenly asked.

Twilight was surprised. Indeed, HOW did she knew? She couldn't tell...

"It just... Came to my tongue?" she replied.

That seemed to settle the black machine.

"Well... If you're feeling as bloody worn out as I am, you'll find a clean seeping bag in by cab. The door's open, and the seat is adjustable. Don't ask why. Workmen aren't allowed to sleep in their engines." Diesel's thoughts trailed off "Yet, this wouldn't be the first time our lowly controller finally decided to spend money, and does it wrong. We aren't called 'The Other Railway' for nothing, you know."

"Why "Other" Railway?" the unicorn asked, on her way to the cab.

The engine smirked.

"That's me to know and you to figure out." he said, sipping into his cider.

Episode 1 - Twilight's First Day

TWILIGHT'S FIRST DAY

It was a pleasant, if chilly morning in Equestria.

The sun had just came up, the early birds were chirping...

Aaaaand...

Ummm....

Oh!

The railway's daily shift came into action.

And in the Canterlot Province, the heart of the Equestrian Kingdom (Equestria ISN'T the planet's name, silly!), not far from the capital, Canterlot itself, a small town was waking up.

It was Ponyville, a humble village where most residents knew each other, and lived happily, away from the bustling cities and the barren wastelands. Lately, this town had also received the honor (and responsibility) of being selected as the province's main transfer yard - many trains passed through here, and the speedway lines set up a bit further from the yard and the station, provided extra safety for the fast runs that didn't stop at Ponyville Station.

The marshaling yard itself had two sheds: a smaller one, which was more like a remise, with ten sidings, and a transfer table, and a bigger one with fifteen sidings and an electric turntable.

The latter one was massive and block shaped, Soviet-era style (or shall I say, Council-era style), and had a second level which loomed over seven sidings on one side - the engineers' living quarters and leisure room was located here.

In the rightmost side, a small locomotive was snoozing, a discontent moppet on his mouth and a slight frown over his closed eyes, though barely noticeable - especially since most people would've focused on his hideous, pointy nose and winsomely snaky eyebrows.

He was diesel engine, a shunter, to be precise. He had six small wheels, with shiny, stainless steel tires and traction rods, a short, stumpy cab, a short, stumpy body, and a short, stumpy temper.

As the first rays of the sun illuminated his berth through the ground glass windows, the engine woke up, feeling sullen, as usual.

Snorting, he opened one eye, and glanced around, sniffing...

Looking nonchalant and with a hint of superiority, he opened both eyes, and waited.

Soon enough a workcolt arrived, opening the shed's double doors, light filling the dim siding.

"Good morning there, Diesel!" he said, cheerily. Diesel just rolled his eyes.

"What's SOOO good about it?" he asked, although he had to admit the cool, morning breeze, moist with dew, was a nice change compared to the frowzy air of the shed, swirling around his wheels as it poured in in gusts.

The pony quickly climbed into his cab, sweeping off the dust from the control cubicle.

"It's a special day today!"

"Why? Are we making a gig for handicapped children?" the shunter asked back, amused, before correcting himself "I mean, handicapped foals?"

"Noooo..." the colt replied "Nothing like that..."

Diesel sniffed again.

"Then... What is it?" he huffed, suspiciously. His driver-of-the-day didn't reply. He just smirked, and started the engine.

The shunter's motor quickly roared to life, and was soon purring (or more like rumbling) smoothly - not much of a surprise, as he was kept under PROPER conditions.

Slowly, Diesel rolled out from his berth, down the the sloped rails, down the short, concrete covered ground towards the turntable's well. With a quiet whir, the table turned to his siding, enabling him to roll onto it.

He was surprised to see that instead of turning to the right, towards the yard, he was turned to the left, which led to the observing tracks and the fuel depot.

"What's going on?" he asked, now curious. His driver still didn't reply, just urged him forward. Reluctantly, Diesel obeyed, but his eyes were now darting around suspiciously, a pronounced frown on his face.

He was stopped on the middle of the outer track, where his driver turned off his motor.

The diesel engine glanced around.

The sky was clear, aside from a few clouds in the distance...

The birds were chirping, and the crickets were chirping as well, in the high grass of the meadow outside the yard's stone fence. Diesel could easily see over the fence, as it was at the bottom of the tracks' high embankment.

His driver had left without a word, leaving him to wonder.

In the distance, he could see the colorful houses of the town.

THEN he remembered.

"Hurry up, Spike! we're going to be late!" Twilight called out to the dragon. She herself was packing her saddlebags for the day - sandwiches, a thermos, and some fake gemstones she got from Rarity the other day ("ZIRCONIUM?! The NERVE of that salesmare!!! Why, I oughta...!").

The lavender pony chuckled inwardly at the memory, before closing the bags, and tossing them over her back.

"Comin'!" Spike replied from the other room. He soon entered with a backpack.

"You packed in everything in, right?" Twilight asked. The baby dragon thought for a moment.

"Quills, parchment, notebooks, ink, History Records of Equestrian Railways, aaaaand repeat all, 'cept for the book. Check." Spike responded, counting the object on his fingers "I guess we're ready."

"Right." the purple unicorn smiled back "Let's go."

On their way through town, they met no-one, and in fact, saw no-one. So early in the morning, Ponyville was like ghost town. Tranquil, but creepy in a way. As if time had stopped. In fact, after some time, Twilight began to expect to come across overgrown ruins the next corner. Spike, on the other hand, was anxious, and tried to cover it with questions.

"S-So... What are we going to do?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know. I hope I'll get to work as an administrator, or, if anything, a ticket cashier." his friend replied, before chuckling "And you could be a ticket inspector!"

"I'll pass..." Spike groaned "Anyways, what about the others?"

Twilight pondered.

"The Apples are busy, Applejack said they're behind schedule. Fluttershy has to take care of a wile argument between foxes and wolves..."

"Don't wanna be in HER place..." Spike hissed, wincing at the thought of being in such predicament...

"Rarity is on a day-out with her family... And Rainbow Dash had to go to a Weather Council meeting at Cloudsdale. It's about that accident with the refinery."

"I should have guessed..." Spike mumbled "This licenta stuff sure is dangerous, huh?"

"It is." Twilight replied, before adding it sharply "Licenta radiation holds potential dangers, IF handled the WRONG way. What happened was an unfortunate incident."

Spike had his doubts.

"Yeah, so was Chernobull, Severesk with Trotsk-7, Haresburg with Three-Mares Island, Spellafield, Packs, and... Oh! Who could forget Heroshima, or shall I say, Bukushima?" he asked murkily. Twilight grunted, and picked up pace, as her assistant continued "Face, it, Twilight, licenta is dangerous, and ponies have always struggled to keep control of it."

"And you think that ridding the world of rainbows and lightning power is the ultimate solution, do you?!" Twilight snapped, loud enough for anyone to hear. Spike looked around nervously.

"Shh!" he hushed her "There's no need to get yourself worked up about it!"

"I'm NOT getting myself worked up about it!" Twilight responded angrily, but with a quieter voice "I'm getting worked up about YOUR stupidity!"

"What?" Spike had taken aback.

"You listen to all that crud those spectraphobiac gangs and their sponsors say, when one of your friends is RAINBOW DASH?! She had been having sleepless nights over the arguments and stress caused by with those vicious cloppers!"

"Whoa!" Spike exclaimed. He rarely saw Twilight this angry, and had never expected her to get vulgar.

"All those ignorant, hectic buckers think about is 'OOOOH, ANOTHER LEAK, WE SHOULD TOTALLY BAN REFINING RAINBOWS, AND THEN ARGUE ABOUT GRAY SKIES! WHAT, SOME SCIENTIST AND EXPERTS DARE TO CLAIM WE'RE NOT RIGHT? LET'S SUE THE BUCK OUT OF THEM!'" that, by far, was the best "annoying bimbo witch" and "snooty old nag" impression Spike had ever heard. He now listened with interest, as the mare continued her rant.

"Ponies know NOTHING about the conditions and nature of these accidents! And if you TRY to explain it to them, it's like talking to a stone wall! Chernobull was due by equine omission and the skipping of regulations, and Bukushima had to suffer the strongest earthquake recorded yet, AND a tsunami before the meltdown! And, for the last time, Heroshima was a blooming MILITARY ATTACK, NOT an ACCIDENT!" the unicorn bellowed "THERE IS A MOHTERBUCKING DIFFERENCE, YOU KNOW!"

"Woah, take it easy, Twilight!" Spike replied soothingly. The mare took a deep breath.

"Alright." she mutterd crossly "But c'mon! Don't you think it's a bit suspicious that most of the groups are from Phillydelphia?" she asked "'Cause, for your information, it's exactly 'Delphia that had been pushing the idea of licenta used for military purposes, rather than civilian ones. Their contribution helped the Manehattan Project the most."

"Twilight, that's manure, and YOU should know that!" Spike snapped back "All these conspiracy theories are made up in response to their claims. At LEAST, you didn't went as far to compare them to the Nasys..." he added.

Twilight huffed.

"I would never DO such a thing, and besides...!" she groaned, before adding, more delicately "You know what I think of nationalism..."

"'It's the springboard to supremacism to colts and mares who are in doubt about their ponyhood.'" Spike cited with bore "I KNOW! And I agree with it, so to speak. But you can't just ignore their opinion! It would make you just as bad, if not worse, than them!"

His friend sighed.

"I guess your right. But still..." she muttered, her voice dropping into an ominous whisper "I swear by Star Swirl's beard, if I ever, EVER come across one of those motherbuckers, I'll..."

"Before you continue that..." Spike interrupted on a disinterested tone "I might as well tell you that Fluttershy is an active anti-licenta supporter."

Twilight's face fell.

"And Rainbow had agreed with her." Spike added "They understand each other's point of view, and they tried to come up with solutions in the discussions." the dragon scratched his head "Buuut, the other participants usually don't really work together well."

The mare gave an exasperated sight.

"Let's get to work." she muttered, glumly.

They soon arrived at to the yard, and went straight to the main shed, where the Doctor was waiting for them.

"Good morning, Twilight! Morning, Spike!" he greeted them "Ready for your first day at the railway?"

"Sure!" Twilight replied cheerily, despite her spleenful mood "What'll be my job?"

"Follow me." the Time Lord replied, and trotted off. But to Twilight's surprise, to the other direction - he wasn't going towards the station's office - he was heading to the sidings!

Surprised, Twilight and Spike followed him, all the way to the outermost siding. From the distance, she could already figure out why.

Diesel was resting on the siding, his cab towards them. The workmares did wonders to his appearance - his buffer plates were bright red as they were supposed to be, with buffers painted dull black, making them look good as new. His overall paintjob, originally spotty, faded with a tint of brown added to it, probably due to the quality (and consequently, the price) of the paint, was now replaced by a proper jet black coat - even his wheels and chassis had been repainted. His silver gray tires and traction rods shone brightly, his windows cleaned, and his footplate spotless. Twilight could only marvel at the sight.

The Doctor interrupted her gaze.

"Well, here we are."

"What?" the mare asked back, bemused.

"Here we are." the Doctor repeated "Your first job."

"My... First... Job?" she asked slowly, eyes darting around, before they landed on Diesel.

"Yes." Dr. Whooves replied "Through your training and hopefully afterwards, you'll be Diesel's driver. Now, he's a shunting engine, which means your jobs will mostly consist of arranging trains, and short-distance slow goods. You may also be doing maintenance on him if fitters aren't available."

"Wait..." Twilight's eyes went wide "I'll be... A driver?"

"No need for this, then!" Spike grinned, and hurled the heavy bag away into the distance. Twilight was getting nervous.

"But... I don't know how to drive at all, let alone an engine!" she whimpered, before asking, hopefully "Do I at least get an instruction manual?"

"Nope." the brown earth pony replied "It'll have to be a first-hoof experience, but don't worry. Diesel will be there to help you!"

"But... But..." Twilight was getting closer to panic.

"As for you, Spike." the Doctor continued, turning to the dragon "You'll be a full time fitter. Your job will be to maintain the engines based here. For you, I do have blueprints and manuals, and I hope you'll study them well."

"C-Can't we switch jobs?" the mare asked, practically begging.

"What, you want ME to deal with that Grease Block?" Spike retorted, mordantly "As if!"

The Doctor and the dragon left, still discussing Spike's duty, leaving Twilight behind. She slumped onto her flank, pouting.

"You finished yet?" a moderately deep voice grumbled "Work's not gonna do itself, and I can't move by myself ALL the time, as I detailed to you back in the first night!"

Twilight cringed at the memory.

She then got up, with a determined face, turned around and trotted towards the engine, up to the front,

"Good morning, Diesel!" she greeted him happily.

"Oh, so you're NOT afraid of me?" Diesel replied nonchalantly, his face in the same glum expression Twilight had seen the most so far.

"No..." she replied, admitting, embarrassed "I was afraid of the task, because I don't know how to drive an engine."

Diesel rolled his eyes, before he spoke, his frown softening slightly.

"Well, the best way now is for you to try it." he spoke "I have many decades of experience behind me, which also comes with some expertise in certain areas of rail work."

He looked down thoughtfully, at the mare before him. He then closed his eyes, and with slight "whatever" grimace and a "Hmph!", he talked to her.

"Alright then. First thing first, as my driver..." he began "You're in charge of whatever work I do. You control me, essentially, you drive me."

The unicorn only nodded.

"First thing first would be that you check over me to see if the fitter had left out anything, but I doubt that's the case. I've already had a check-up this morning, and everything's fine." he explained "But, if you wish, you can take a quick look around..."

And Twilight proceeded so.

She climbed up to Diesel's ladder, onto his roof, and walked around on top, checking the exhausts. Then, she climbed under him, examining the axles, brakes and gearing. She knew nothing about diesel engines, but the explanation Old Stuck-Up gave to the princesses on their first meeting, she was sure that she was looking at the right things.

After a thorough examination, she found her way into Diesel's cab.

The control cubicle was in front of her. It was a simple set, easily manageable from each sides of it.

"Right." she heard Diesel's voice as if he was inside the cab as well. Dismissing the idea of a "Dieselception", she figured that since she's basically inside the engine, his voice was just as easy to hear as standing outside, in front of him. She was also sure he could hear her. So...

"What now?"

"First of all, turn my motor on." Diesel replied "Search for a button with a sign that reads "Engine Start-Off"."

The mare proceeded so, and soon found it. Pressing it - which turned out to be hard, as the button had a metal rim, and only it's plastic inside moved - she was startled by the loud noise of Diesel's engine clanking to life, before it turned into a mixture of purring and rattling.

"OK." Diesel responded "Now, do you see the control handle?" he asked.

"Yes. TWO of it." came the reply.

"Right. You may see another, vertical handle not far from it. That' are the brakes' control. Put one... Hoof over that lever, and the other to the control handle. Release the brakes, and then slowly turn the handle to a forward motion. Directions are highlighted on the panel."

After catching everything the shunter said, Twilight did exactly as he told her. Carefully, she pulled the vertical lever, jumping as she heard the shrill sound of the air brakes releasing.

Diesel purred comfortably.

"Easy now, Sparkle." he spoke in a reassuring way "Now. Slowly turn the control handle forwards, and keep an eye out on the track through the windows. You can see through them, right?"

Twilight's chair - the very chair she slept on a few days before - was close and high enough for her to see through the right oblong window. She chose this side so that she could keep an eye on the other sidings as well.

Shakily, she put her hoof on the handle, and slowly turned it, the degree of the turn growing and growing. The control handle was a horizontal one that turned to the side, that would of probably went around in a circle, if the gearing would allowed it.

Getting a firm grip on it, Twilight stopped. Diesel was yet to move.

"C'mon, Twilight." she heard his voice "It's not that hard. Just do it."

She was momentarily surprised. Diesel's voice was gentle, almost brotherly, and this was unarguably the first time he ever called her Twilight.

A determined look, not different from the one she had on earlier, returned to her face.

"C'mon, Twilight! You can do this!" she reassured herself, and gentle but firm, she turned the handle to quarter level.
Very slowly, the shunter began to move. Twilight held her breath. Diesel accelerated, slowly gaining speed, before he came to a constant, slow pace, rolling down the line.

Twilight squealed.

"I did it!"

"Now, don't cheer so early!" Diesel replied "You got me moving. Fine. How do you stop me?"

The mare didn't replied. For a moment, she felt another panic attack approaching. Then, after taking a deep breath, she looked around. The controls were simple enough. Carefully, she pulled the handle back, and pushed the lever into it's original upright position. Diesel slowed down, and stopped with a pneumatic hiss, engine rattling quietly.

"...Adequate." he spoke up after some time, his normal, indifferent and superiority-tinted voice returning "Can you do it backwards?"

"Backwards?" the mare blinked.

"Yes." Diesel replied mordantly "Us engines could only go back and forth on the rails. Move me backwards."

Twilight though for a moment, then slowly, she turned the control handle to the other direction, and to her surprise, it could move that way easily.

After a few runs back and forth, trying out the different speeds and methods of braking, she felt much more at ease, feeling her control over the engine. But she wasn't alone.

Diesel had been with her, aiding her through the session. He would always give her advise in the right time, but in a voice that made it sound like a rude remark.

"Guess that's how he does it..." - she pondered, as they finally left the training siding, and were approaching the fuel depot.

Stopping beside the tanks, she followed her mentor's order and turned his engine off, took the cap from his fuel tank, and placed the hose in it.

"It's VERY important that you ALWAYS turn the motor off before refueling." the jet black engine spoke "One of my... Drinking friend's driver forgot this once..." his voice turned glum "They're no longer with us..."

Twilight let out a quiet gasp. But said nothing.

Somehow, she felt it was best not to say anything, as the shunter seemed deep in thought, embracing the memory.

A while later, they arrived at the sidings. It was a slow day, and only a few trains have been stopping there, most of them just quickly passing through. The coaches have been arranged, and the only thing left to clear were the sidings were the "home" trucks were stored. But boy, was THAT a mess!

The trucks had been scattered all over the sidings, in odd and even numbers, various kinds and types mixed. They were all chatting with each other, not having the slightest care in the world, as Diesel rumbled into the yard.

They all noticed him, however, but didn't seem to care much.

"Twilight. Horn." Diesel spoke simply. Twilight reached out to a hanging strap, and gave it a thug.

Diesel's infamous electric horn buzzed through the air.

The trucks paid NO notice at all.

"Right." the shunter muttered, eyes narrowing "Twilight. OTHER horn."

The mare now reached out to a sprung crank attached to a pipe running through the control panel, up to the ceiling of the cab.

Diesel's secondary, air-operated horn blared loudly, making the trucks all jump and bump into each other.

Most Other Railway diesels had two horn: one, quieter, for urban areas, and a louder one for the yards and for foggy weather.

Twilight honked the latter, which even made she herself jump up in her seat.

"Steady now." the engine called to her, before speaking to the trucks "Alright you lot! Listen up! I have a trainee driver with me, and I want her to LEARN to SHUNT, and not what an obnoxious bunch of pricks you are! So, behave yourself, or I'll take you to the demolition derby!" he yelled.

The trucks winced, but kept whispering to each other, as Diesel, surprisingly carefully and gently, shunted them to their place, arranging two trains, and putting the rest in their assigned sidings, his work contradicting his mood.

Soon enough, the work was done, and the two decided to take a rest at carriage works, located near the sheds. Diesel never like to stop on curved tracks, it always felt constricting to him in a way, but then again, who cared?

Twilight was sitting on his footplate, resting her head against the cool metal of the ladders that ran up to his roof.

"So, how was I?" she suddenly asked.

Diesel thought for a moment.

"Good." he admitted "Especially if you consider that it's only been your first day. You could handle driving in either directions with ease, and dealt with one of the most sloppiest truck in the bunch." he grinned here "And THAT was a heart-warming sight to see."

Twilight blushed at the memory.

One of the trucks had been giving hard time to her and Diesel, jamming it's brakes hard on, and getting stuck on a set of points. Twilight, loosing patience after some time, trying to release the brakes of the stubborn truck, whacked him on the top of his side where his face was located, and instantly, the truck's brakes released, said rolling stock whimpering painfully. Twilight apologized, but Diesel just jeered.

"If you say so, Diesel" she replied.

They sat there, soaking up the sunlight, and enjoying the slight breeze brushing against their fur and metal, when Twilight heard the most queerest sound...

...sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew.... wheeeeeeeeeeesheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehw...

"What's that?" she asked, wondering.

"What's what?" Diesel asked back, nonchalantly.

...sheeeeeeeeeewheeeeeeeeesheeeeeeeeeee... Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...

"That, that noise! It sounds like... It sounds like someone's trying to speak through a whistle..."

"A whistle? "

..sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesh...

"Yeah! Didn't you just heard it?"

"Wait..." Diesel's eyes went wide.

"What is it?" Twilight asked, but her eyes went wide as well, her pupils shrinking to pinprick size, as the noise got louder and louder, AND LOUDER...

...SheeeeeeeeeweeeEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE--!!!

- OH FUCK!

The next second, something green, incredibly fast and blurred passed by the two, sliding down the siding next to them, crashing into the buffers at the end.

Badly shaken from the crash, the two didn't budge, with Diesel's eyes shut tight in a frown, still ready for the impact that never happened, and with Twilight gripping onto his ladder, clinging to it for her dear life.

Slowly, the two opened their eyes, and Twilight glanced back.

And the end of the siding, a large cloud of steam was dispersing.

Quickly, the purple unicorn drove the black shunter to the buffers at the end of their siding. The steam had cleared off, revealing a fluorescent green tank engine, with his eyes still rolling in a synchronized manner with a gurn on his face. The buffers behind him were damaged: The beams were bent, the plate looked close to breaking, and the metal frame holding it bent back. Thankfully, the locomotive was still on the rails, wheeshing steam from his internal cylinders.

Twilight jumped out of the cab, frantic about the situation, but Diesel just groaned, rolling his eyes with annoyance.

"Steamie!" he snapped at the engine "What the Hell?!"

"Are you alright?" Twilight asked, anxious.

After coughing a bit, Steamie replied in his normal, cheery tone, through slightly disoriented:

"I'm fine! I think..."

"Me too!" said a familiar voice.

"What the... PINKIE?!" Both mare and diesel cried out in unison, as Pinkie Pie climbed out from Steamie's cab, wearing an orange high-visibility vest, lurching towards them groggily, eyes rolling in separate directions.

"OH MY GOODNESS!!!" Twilight screamed "Are you alright?!"

Pinkie just chuckled, shaking her head.

"I'm fine!" she replied "Just had to test something..."

"Test?! What are you talkin--?!" Before Twilight could finish her sentence, Pinkie Pie's vest exploded with a loud hiss, expanding... Much like an air-bag.

The impact hurled Twilight into the side of Diesel, making the locomotive shake and jitter on his wheels. Slowly, the purple pony slipped down his side, still plastered on it, while Diesel blinked rapidly to stop his eyes from shaking.

"Hmmm... Air-vest is a bit delayed..." Pinkie Pie mutter d, her voice muffled under the vest, before it deflated, akin to a balloon. She shrugged, and smiled brightly "But, that's what are these tests are for!"

She then noticed Twilight.

"Ummm... Twilight... You alright? Twilight?"

"Eeeh... I think she's unconscious, Pinkie..."

"Nonsense, Steamie! She can't be... Wait... SHE IS!"

"Good to know... Now... Would you be a goooood friend, and BLOODY HELP HER, YOU STUPID TWIT?!" Diesel roared.

"AAAAAAH! YESYESYESYES! RIGHT AWAY, DIESEL, SIR!" Pinkie screamed with fear, as she ran of.

One trip to the first-aid room later, Diesel was waiting at a siding with Steamie and Pinkie beside him.

Twilight came up to them, a bandage covering her head.

"Sorry about that, Ms. Sparkle..." Steamie began.

"Yes. Forgive me, Twilight, I didn't mean to..." Pinkie began, but the unicorn waved her hoof dismissively.

"Never mind that, Pinkie, it wasn't your fault."

"Well..." Diesel muttered "Good to see you're still in one piece."

The mare just chuckled.

"Anyways, Doctor Whooves told me about our duties for the afternoon." Twilight informed them "Pinkie, you and Steamie will have to arrange a freight train for D199. That's Spamcan, right?" she asked the engines.

"Indeed." Diesel replied, before muttering to himself "Steamie, shunting. Those poor, unfortunate trucks..."

"What?" Pinkie asked.

"Nothing!" came the hasty reply.

"Anyways..." Twilight continued "Diesel and I are going to shunt D261's... What was his name? BOWLER! Yes, we're going to shunt Bowler's passenger train, and then, we'll take a slow goods train to the mines at Pyker's Peak... Hmmm... Never heard of those..."

"It's a recently opened coal mine." Pinkie explained. "I know because I've been helping with the opening party!" she added, cheerfully.

"Good." Diesel responded sharply "But just tell me, WHAT the HIGH HELL were you thinking, running into a buffer stop like that?"

"It's... It's fitters orders..." Steamie whimpered, his eyes tearing up.

"Yeah..." Pinkie added, looking sad as well, before she exclaimed "He's such a nice colt! He instructed me how to drive Steamie, how to shunt, how to obey Rule 55, how to DISobey Rule 34, and... Well... The air-vest was his idea... And he'd done so much for me, just this morning. And... I couldn't just disagree with those caring-like eyes, I..." Pinkie stopped.

Twilight Sparkle and Devious Diesel had been staring at her for the longest time, with a mischievous expression, with Diesel's being a bit more nefarious, naturally. A content and knowing smile on their mouths, they just watched her. Even Steamie was giggling!

"Pinkiiiieee..." Twilight cooed "Do you LIKE that colt?"

"Y-Yes..." Pinkie replied, smiling nervously "I mean no! I mean..."

"Hmhmhmmm..." Diesel chuckled in an oily voice "Well... Guess love really IS for everyone... "

"WHAT do you mean?" Pinkie snapped, suddenly angry.

"Oh, nothing..." the shunter purred, as Steamie cackled madly "I'm just glad to hear you've finally... Met your match..." he practically whispered the last few words, making Pinkie blush madly, as she quickly sprinted back into Steamie's cab, releasing the brakes, and shoveling wildly, filling the firebox.

"Well, it was nice talking with you!" Steamie cheered, as Pinkie pulled the throttle. He shot backwards, instantly.

"WHEEEEEEEEEEESH!" the tank engine cried with joy, as they disappeared into the distance.

As soon as they did, Twilight burst out in giggles. Somehow, teasing the pink pony like that felt TOO good. Diesel, on the other hand, looked disgusted.

"BLEEEAAAUGH!" he grimaced, sticking his tongue out "Sparkle, remind me NOT to do that ever again!"

"Wh-hy?" Twilight chortled "t. Was. HILARIOUS!" she said, laughing uncontrollably.

"For such an amateur like YOU, perhaps." the diesel snorted "But for an expert like ME, it was low-class, and degrading!" he sneered.

"Amateur?" Twilight suddenly asked "But you said..."

"You may be a natural driver." the engine replied "But I'm an experienced bastard."

"Bastard?" Twilight replied, eyes blank.

"Yes." Diesel smirked evilly "A master of jeers, the scheming, oily trickster in the shadows, king of nasty pranks and sour lessons, a booby-trap mastermind!" he said with pride. "Call me whatever you like, but you can't change mine, or correctly, OUR general nature." he said in a haughty voice, eyes closed "We're all bastards at the core, all values aside. What can I say?" he opened his eyes halfway "This is how we roll."

On their way back to the sidings, Twilight couldn't help but to think about what her engine said. Wait... Her? Diesel was JUST an engine. If anything, he belonged to Equestrian Rail. Or the Other Railway. Or the sheds. Not to HER. Yet... There was a feeling of familiarity when she stepped inside his cab once more, now driving him cab first towards Bowler's coaches. A feeling of comfort. Maybe it was the warmth of the cab compared to the cool, late afternoon air.

And what did he meant by "us"? The Other Railway? Diesels in general? Or...

They arrived to the coaches, and the lavender unicorn quickly coupled them up. Soon, they were at the station, where Bowler was waiting.

"Oh, THERE you are!" he snapped with mimicked anger "Hurry up, you lot, I haven't got all night!"

Diesel grunted, and even Twilight found it hard not to snap back at the snooty passenger engine.

But soon enough, Bowler was ready. Tooting goodbye to the shunter with a conceited smirk, he rumbled off, pulling his coaches with delicacy.

Diesel only snorted with disdain. He glanced to the side, and was surprised to see Twilight glaring after the engine with a mix of anger and envy. The engine smirked. He wouldn't admit it to himself, but he was beginning to like his new driver... The pony. NOT HIS new driver. The pony. Right...

"Cheer up." he muttered to him, sarcastically "We got our own train to pull!"

They found the line of nine trucks plus brake van in a shady siding behind the smaller engine shed.

The train mostly consisted of vans, painted dark, grayish blue or dull black, with the fire hazard sign on each of them. The vans themselves were old, two-axle ones, seemingly just after a re-paint. There was also a oil tanker at the back, right before the break van.

As Diesel was coupled up, the last door slammed shut.

Their load was dynamite, required for mining operations. It was safely packet up in the trucks, and the oil tanker actually contained extinguishing liquid.

The guard blew his whistle, and their signal dropped, the light green. Honking his quieter horn, Diesel rattled out of the station onto the open line...

They've been going down the main line for some time, before he noticed something.

"Twilight Sparkle?" he asked.

"Yes, Diesel?" the mare asked back.

"What position is the gear lever in?"

All diesel shunters on the Other Railway had been equipped with a 3 mode gear system - Shunt, Cruise and Haul. Shunt was the lowest gear, allowing the engine to move trains with great traction, at the expense of speed. Cruise was used when engines had to travel without a train. It was significantly faster than the Shunting mode, but didn't provided much traction. Haul was only added when shunters actually had to pull trains. It granted them half the speed of Cruise - which usually had five times the top speed of Shunt - with the Shunting mode's traction. This of course, taxed the engine's fuel supply greatly, but they later managed to "economize" this problem.

"It's in "Cruise"..." Twilight replied.

"Switch it to "Haul" immediately!" Diesel snapped, and the pony quickly did so.

They arrived to the mine's station safely, and shunted the trucks to a siding... After that, and quick refuel, they began their journey down the steep slope of the hillside serpentine of train tracks - Pyker's Peak was a long way up.

The mountain itself looked like Swiss cheese, filled with holes - earlier mines. Some even dug all the way through the mountain.

They had to stop at a semaphore, a few miles before mines' branch line reached the main line...

Diesel had been travelling cab first again, so Twilight was the first one to saw the red light. Reluctantly, she stopped the engine. She was mentally tired with the day's work, and wished to be home in her nice, warm bed.

Diesel felt the same, but didn't wanted to rush. He had once jumped a signal, and nearly collided with Stuck-Up, of all engines. A smooch from the disgustingly posh express locomotive disturbed him to the point of a catatonia-close-call, and made his pistons jump around like mad - he could instantly feel the taste of oil sludge in his mouth.

He was thankfully interrupted from his thoughts by his own air-horn blaring furiously, Twilight hitting the crank of it impatiently.

"C'mon!" she hollered "I wanna go home! CHANGE!"
And she continued slamming onto the crank. But, to her surprise and fury, no sound came.

"HEY! WHAT GIVES?!" she snapped.

"Now listen up there, Missy!" Diesel growled "You may be tired, but I was the one actually did the work here! AND, it was ONLY your first day! It only gets harder from this point onwards, so either SHUT UP OR PISS OFF!"

The mare didn't replied. She just gave and angry sigh.

Moments passed.

Suddenly, from the distance, the wails of a siren came.

"What's that?" Twilight asked. Diesel heard it too.

"Uuuuh... Shark warnings?" he guessed.

Another noise hit the engine's metaphorical ears, and he looked back up the line, his lamp illuminating as much as possible.

His eyes went wide.

"Twilight. Drive." he muttered.
"But... The signal..." the mare protested.

"Fuck the signal, DRIVE! QUICK!"

The unicorn immediately did so, turning the handle to max, brakes completely released. Diesel shot backwards, cab first, onto the main line - a long line of stone hoppers following him at a ground shaking speed...

Down on the slope, it was easy to keep distance between them and the trucks. But once on the main line, things got harder.

Diesel literally burst trough the points, making them jam in the position leading to the mine's branch line. Rattling after him came the trucks.

By some weird act of fate - and by the negligence of tardy signalmare - they ended up on the express line, the stone train gaining up on them...

"What do we do now?!" Twilight screamed.

"We'll have to let them catch us." came the reply.

"WHAT?!"

"We'll have to stop those trucks! It's a runaway!" Diesel explained "If WE don't stop 'em, they might KILL someone else!"

He winced.

"Don't think that I like the idea! But we gotta do it! So..." he took a deep breath "Ready, Sparkle?"

Twilight stared at the trucks from the cab. Diesel's hood hid most of the sight, but she could still see the long line of large double-bogie trucks that crept closer and closer in their run.

With a spark in her eye, Twilight's face became determined. She grabbed hold of the control handle, and reached out to the brakes.

"Ready, Diesel!"

It was on!

They raced down the line, trucks slowly gaining at them, while Diesel blasted his air-horn all the way.

Signal boxes and stations warned each other about the runaway, and safety measures have been taken. The main line was closed off from the branch lines, stations and yards, ponies on unavoidable stations were cleared from the platforms. Signals and points were set, all preparation done.

Except one.

Diesel watched as the trucks slowly crept forward, finally hitting his buffers with a metallic thump.

This made the engine jerk backwards, and the mare momentarily lost her balance, but quickly regained it.

They waited until the trucks didn't felt like pushing that much.

"NOW!" Diesel yelled.

Instantly, Twilight switched to neutral, and slammed the brakes on. With a loud hiss, the shunter's brakes came on, his traction rods stopping in their turn, wheels throwing sparks everywhere with an ear-splitting screech.

Instantly, the trucks felt pushing again, but through the push, the engine could feel their pace growing less.

However, a sharp pain reminded him about physics, and what he should be doing.

"Twilight! Release the brakes!" he yelled through the cacophony.

"ARE YOU NUTS?!" Twilight screamed back.

"My brakes are overheating!" Diesel roared back "If I don't let go, they'll melt, and we'll never stop this bloody train!"

The mare was reluctant, but proceeded. Instantly, she felt the jerk of the trucks pushing them again, but this time, it was weaker!

She waited for a minute, and slammed the brakes on again, the runaway growing significantly slower.

"A few clear miles, and we're done!" she cheered.

"Calling D8, calling D8! This is Yard C-P-1!" an electronic voice said. Twilight, nearly falling off the chair again, looked around, and saw the source of the voice - it was the radio transceiver. Not watching what she flicked, she reached out to it, and replied through the din. She assumed they were D8.

"This is D8!" she couldn't stop herself "Over!"

"D8! We know of the runaway!" the voice answered "Give us your coordinates!"

"Uuuuhh..." Twilight muttered, unsure of what to say. Diesel, who had heard everything, was quick to reply:

"We're about thirty miles down the line, approaching fast! We have a runaway consisting of..." he counted for a moment "Twenty fully loaded stone hoppers, no brake van! We need a few clear miles, and we can stop it!"

"Right. Which line are you using?"

Diesel didn't respond.

Twilight glanced out through the windows of the cab. It was a three-track line, and they were travelling on the middle one.

And the middle one was...

"We're on the Express line!" she screamed.

"Right. The lines empty in your section, and..." the voice stopped "Hang on! This is bad!"

"What's wrong?!" the unicorn asked.

"The line's not clear!" the radiocolt cried "The 20:35 InterCity is due!"

Deadpanning, Twilight turned around, looking out through the window.

In the distance, she could see and hear another train approaching. Focusing on it, she saw that it was Pip - or Emma, she couldn't tell the twins apart, especially from such a distance.

Pip (or Emma) also noticed them, and blasted her two-tone horn loudly, panic all over her face.

Twilight only stared, her mind frozen in fear.

Subconsciously, she reached out to the brakes, released them, and slammed them on again, repeating over and over...

Diesel noticed this.

"Sparkle. Why are you morsing... "OH DEAR CELESTIA, TAKE ME NOW"... On my brakes? If I caught that correctly..." he muttered.

Then, he heard the two-tone horn.

And noticed just WHICH siding he was on.

"SSsssssshit!"

The trucks were at a moderate speed now, and with a hasted emergency stopping, could have came to a halt.

The InterCity, however, which was going MUCH faster, needed more time and space.

And there was none.

"Well... It was nice to meet you, Twilight Sparkle." Diesel muttered, bitterly "See you on the other side."

Twilight didn't reply. She was busy uttering a prayer to Harmonia, the ancient ruler of Equestria.

Diesel also considered praying, but he never was much of a believer, so...

"Hey... Sparkle..." he grinned "This may be my last run. End of the line, so to speak. Do me a favor."

Twilight finally snapped out of her panicked trance.

"Yes?"

"If I gotta go, I wanna go down with pride." Diesel explained "Now, that's sorta busted, 'cause I'm travelling arse first towards my colleague, about to be turned into metal foil with a blood sample on it, if you don't get out!"

"What?" the mare asked.

"What I'm saying is, give me the ultimate honor. Release my brakes, turn all my lamps on, secure my electric horn, full on, and get out of here!

"I can't release the brakes!" Twilight replied, jamming them on again, the pace now steadily decreasing without the brakes overheating "There are passengers on that train! And I'm NOT leaving you behind!"

"Are you fucking insane?!" Diesel yelled "You're going to get killed!"

"I'm not leaving a friend behind!" the mare hollered back.

Diesel rolled his eyes.

"Your funeral. Literally."

Twilight's eyes darted around on the rails in front of them.

Suddenly, she saw a set of points, just right ahead.

It only took a flick from her horn to set the points, diverting them away from the express line, the last truck getting off ONE SECOND before the other train passed by, knocking the points back into their original position.

Screeching loudly, with the trucks banging behind him, Diesel slid down the siding, which led him onto an overgrown tracks, plunging into the darkness.

Back at the yards, everyone had heard the news.

Pinkie Pie and Steamie were resting near the water tower.

"I hope they're alright." Pinkie muttered with worry.

"Oh, don't worry!" the tank engine replied "With Diesel's dexterity and Twilight's magic, I'll sure they'll manage just fine!"

"Hey, can you hear that, Steamie?" the party pony suddenly asked.

There was an odd droning noise filling the air.

The next second, crashing through the bushes from the edge of the meadow came Diesel, running cab front, wheels throwing sparks everywhere, a line of stone hoppers behind him, horn honking loud and fluent. He skidded through the yard, slipped pass the tank engine and Pinkie, and careered into the the carriage works, crashing through the heavy wooden doors, and smashing through the other door on the other side, finally hitting some buffers, the train jerking to a stop with a loud clank, some stone falling out from the trucks.

As the dust cleared and the noise died down, the runaway became visible, now stopped, and still on the rails.

Diesel's engine spluttered, and, with a loud BANG!, shut down completely, his lamps going out altogether.

Silence filled the yard...

"...Or not. - Steamie muttered."

After shunting the trucks to a siding near by, the steam engine towed the Class 08 back in front of the work sheds.

Thankfully, aside from bent buffer beams, worn brakes and a clapped-out engine, Diesel was fine. Twilight suffered a minor concussion, having passed out before the impact.

But soon enough, she came back around. She sat up, having been laying on the ground for a good half and hour by now.

"Have we stopped yet?" was her first question. She soon found herself embraced in the most tightest, yet most gentle hug she ever felt, aside from her mother's.

Pinkie held her tight, crying happy tears over her shoulders. Steamie looked at Diesel with deep respect and admiration.

Gently, Twilight hugged back, smiling happily. She was alive. Diesel was alive! THEY MADE IT!

Even Diesel couldn't help but to smirk, as the tank engine shunted him to the work sheds, careful not to put sudden pressure on his sore buffer beams.

It was near midnight when Twilight arrived home.

Spike had been frantic, and was more than thrilled to see her still in one piece.

Unfortunately to him, Twilight was completely exhausted, and she simply collapsed onto her bed, to tired to even cover up.

"C'MON, Twilight!" the dragon nagged "You gotta tell me SOMETHING!"

Twilight gave a tired, wry smile.

"OK." she muttered. Spike stared with anticipation, as the mare continued:

"I think my training session was a success!" she said with a devious smirk, before turning to the other side "And so was Pinkie's..."

"Oh..." Spike responded "Well, I got to know Mr. Bottomsly better today. He's actually really intelligent, sophisticated, and..."

But Twilight was already fast asleep.

Diesel's buffer beams were quickly mended (magic IS magic), and he was shunted into his berth by Steamy.
He just stood there, sullen as ever, and in an especially crap mood.

"'Ey. 'Eard 'bou' yer "aks'on", lad..." Spamcan spoke up from the next siding "Tha' wa' sum' pre'y serious stunt ya di' dere, Diesel."

"Yeah. I have to admit, it was very impressive." Bowler agreed from a bit further away.

"Most definitely." Stuck-Up added "Couldn't have done it better myself, I may ad. You did exactly the right thing, AND in style."

"Well, that's very nice of you to say, guys..." Diesel replied with a suspiciously kind tone. His voice then turned gruff again "But that doesn't make up for my busted buffers and engine!"

"Oh?" Cromwell asked, unamused "Your buffers are fixed. And you'll be getting a new engine tomorrow. Alexei himself promised to get the equipment, and deal with the... "Remotorization", as he said."

"And, as you've said yourself, Diesel, he's a God." Derek added smugly "The LEAST he can do is to get you GOOD new engine! Especially after your heroic deed today!"

"Oh, will you shut up about it?!" Diesel snapped "There was NOTHING bloody heroic about it! I did what I was supposed to do in such situation, and I nearly got myself, my driver, and either Pip or Emma killed!"

"Actually, Diesel." Emma spoke up "That was me."

"Good. FANTASTIC." the shunter sneered. Suddenly, he remembered something.

"Ääähm... Emma?" he asked.

"Yes, Diesel?"

"Since I was running cab first, I couldn't really see forward. Sooo... Just WHAT averted me onto that siding? A signalman can't be that fast. So, tell me, Emma... Did you saw anything?"

"Well... - the commuter engine replied, thoughtfully - It happened very fast, but for the slightest moment... I think... I saw some light on the points..." she muttered, thinking hard "A... Purple aura around the rails. It changed the points, just in time.

"Purple aura?" Derek uttered "Hmmmm... Sounds like magic."

"Magic?" Diesel asked back.

"Say... I heard you were mentoring some mare this morning." the Class 17 stated "Who was it?"

"First off, it wasn't JUST this morning, it was this DAY." the shunter grumbled "And second, it was the Sparkle girl."

"Wha', ya mea' Twiligh' Spa'kl'?" Bert spoke up, surprised.

"Yeah, that's her name..." Diesel muttered "What of it?"

"Well... She's ONLY the Element of Magic from the Elements of Harmony." Derek retorted.

"Oh, for God's sake, Derek! Not everyone's as big of a brony as you are!" the jet black diesel growled "Yeah, so she's the 'Element of Magic'! Good for me!"

"Indeed!" Derek replied in a serious tone "She saved your life! AND Emma's!"

Diesel went silent.

"Oi thin' ya shoul' than' 'er, Diesel..." Bert muttered "Ya owe 'er one."

There was a long pause.

Then, the engine sighed.

"Fine."

Silence took over again.

But it's reign was soon broken by 'Arry.

"So... 'ow wa' she?"

The shunter thought for a moment.

"Surprisingly good, to be honest. She learned quickly, and didn't needed much encouragement. Guess she's a natural."

"Yes. At learning." Derek replied, before falling asleep.

Diesel thought back. He had seen the mare and her dragon arrive with a big bag. And as the dragon tossed the bag away vigorously, he could see it's contents flying out - parchments, quills, bottles of ink, a book of some sort...

He chuckled inwardly, and went to sleep as well.

"Wait-a-minute! Where's my bag?!"

"Uhhh..."

"SPIIIKEEE!!!"

"Aw hay..."

Episode 2 - The Smog in the Orchard

THE SMOG IN THE ORCHARD

It was morning in Equestria, and Celestia's sun shone brightly through the clouds.

The air was crisp, and moist with dew, most lights still dim, even the sun itself seemed sleepy (and you haven't even seen the princess herself!). But still, even so early in the morning, the railway was already bustling with life - freight trains being delivered from town to town, or beyond the borders, morning commuter trains, filled with the many office workers of Canterlot and Manehattan that lived away from the bustling cities, and the earliest morning local goods trains, not moving beyond their sectors of the railway system.

But in Ponyville, things were different. The recently opened marshaling yard was short on employees, so, it was yet to deal with multiple tasks at once. However, the usual trains, such as the local high-speed commuter service, the Express, and the local freight was already dealt with. But today, there was a... Minor disturbance: Bowler, code number D261, had to pull the goods train for the day (much to his displeasure and total retaliation), as it's usual runner had other business to attend to.

The usual engine in front of such trains, on the Other Railway, at least, was the engine numbered D199, but referred to as "Spamcan" by his peers. Said engine was currently resting in his berth in the engine shed, most of the others had already left, the remainder being him, the posh-toff Express engine, number 40125, "Old Stuck-Up", and the kind and polite, if wussy, mix-traffic engine, Derek.

The LAST thing Spamcan wanted to do is talk with the snooty express locomotive, and Derek was parked to far away - the goods engine didn't felt the urge to shout THROUGH Stuck-Up, either.

Moments passed, and his driver was yet to arrive.

This was no surprise, though: it was his turn to take train a temp. Since the Other Railway (and it's surrounding comrades, the engines of the many different, low-quality private railways of Britain, and from all around the world, later) made it's unwilling escapade, and ventured to Equestria - permanently, as it seemed, they had been working hard under better conditions, as they promised to the supreme rulers of the country, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. However, Equestria's already existing rail network was in an era of stagnation, and the new fleet of engines and rolling stock needed new operators - as such, a training program had began, where university-age ponies and others could temporarily join the railway, learn a certain job as back-up in case they couldn't fill in their desired occupations, and in return, do some work for the railway as well. So far, the program was running smoothly, more and more adolescent equines, griffons and other beings joining the rails for a work experience (to skip school), and similar programs were in full swing in the many provinces of the Equestrian Kingdom, and abroad as well.

As an engine, Spamcan HAD to take part in this, although he wasn't really willing to do so. Sure, the ponies were kind sorts, eager to work, and looked after them well, but training newbies has always been a chore, especially when they were new ENGINES rather than people. In fact, when he thought back, he figured that working with the benevolent equine dwellers of this world may turn out to be a piece of cake... Derek and Bert were in it deeply, and although the former was a complete wuss, and the latter probably had a toaster in the place of his brain, he trusted them just enough to give this world a try.

So he sat there, in the darkness of his berth, waiting, his mind busy digging trough it's nothing box.

Then, the door opened.

"Good morning, Spamcan!" the driver greeted him, opening one wing of the double door. Light poured in, temporarily blinding the diesel, as the other wing opened as well. Nictating in order to get used to the increased amount of light, he could still make out the silhouette of another pony at the door. Soon enough, his eyes got used to the light, and he could see who the two ponies were. One was the temporal driver he had been working with, and the other one was the trainee.

"Heh... Sorry 'bout that..."

What a familiar voice. The pony itself - herself - was familiar as well: orange fur, brown cowgirl hat, blonde mane and tail tied in ponytail (quite fittingly), and three apples on her flank. A name flashed through his mind.

"You'r'... Applejack, right?" he asked, in his thick, British working class accent. The cowmare smiled.

"Eeyup!" she replied. Spamcan just sniffed, his nose yanked to the side, slightly, as his mouth grimaced, pushing up one of his cheeks up, wrinkling it. It was just a quick motion, but it remained clear in the orange pony's brain. Still, she decided to ignore it.

"An' ya must be D199!" she went on.

"Eh, jus' call me Spamca'. Ev'rybo'y does..."

"Ah can see why..." the mare smirked.

Spamcan was, even by freight engines' standards, incredibly dirty. From wheels to top, he was covered in grease, soot, ashes, dust, and on the lower regions, close to the wheels, dried mud, scratches and spots of rust. His buffers were only clean because he used them so often they couldn't stay dirty. His paintjob - dark BR blue with bright red buffer plates, yellow warning panels and a gray roof - was JUST recognizable through the layers of filth. Filth, that he reveled in - the less he looked like upperclass Stuck-Up, and the more he could make the picky, hypochondriac Bowler freak out, the better he felt. And, a true working class engine at heart, he couldn't care less about his looks - he was unshaven with a heavy stubble, his nose dent, presumably a result of being broken once or twice, and he, like the many diesels of the other railway, had quite large eyebrows, though his weren't snaky like Diesel's or fuzzy like Stuck-Up's. His eyebrows were straight, a bit angular, and thick, nevertheless.

They were now bent down, in the habitual frown he usually had, as he eyed up the earth pony in front of him, while the workcolt checked him for any mechanical problems.

He knew it from Derek that Applejack herself was a hard-working mare, honest (heck, even the element of it), stubborn, and always ready to help. She stood for no nonsense, be it Rarity's artsy melodramas, or Rainbow Dash's own stubbornness or boasting - pretty much like how he thought of and treated the other diesels. There were MINOR differences, though:

He was, by all sense of the world, a British engine - he worked hard (when not slacking off), drank heavily with ease, fought dirty and without hesitation or restrain, was quick to trash-talk, yet, had his standards, and was everything, but UNfamiliar with the many sorts of industry.

Applejack, on the other hand, was typical American farmer (Spamcan thanked the God of Combustion Motors for her not being a redneck stereotype when met in person). She also worked hard, trying to prove her worth, even if it was unnecessary - akin to the way he tried to be the toughest engine around -, and while trying to remain a sensible and tranquil mare, she was presumably a top-notch fighter, without doubt - learning to fight wasn't that hard, and being as hard-working as she is, she VERY probably had the muscles to back it up. She wasn't likely to loose self-control as easily as he did, and while she had the stamina to stand drinks, her digestive system didn't had the same capacity - unlike him, who had fuel tanks as well. Also, she probably had (at least, SOMEWHAT) higher standards than him. But most importantly, she was a farmer, used to being close to nature. And he was worker, used to smoke, steel, concrete, and long shifts at awkward times.

An inevitable difference.

"So..." he spoke on his gruff voice "Yer goin' t' be my dri'e, righ'?"

"Ah thin' so." she replied "And yah'll be mah mentor."

"Not JUST your mentor." the colt replied, stepping out of the cab "He'll be your engine as well."

"WHAT?" the two asked in unison.

"Oh, didn't you heard?" the colt asked, surprised "It's the Princesses' orders. You'll learn how to drive an engine on D199, and you'll be his permanent driver from then on. Sure, he may have substitute drivers in case you're busy or sick, but he's your engine. And you'll be his driver. Now, if you'd come with me, I'll show you the controls and tell you some useful information. The rest will be up to you and Spamcan."

And, he and the mare made their way into his cab, where he explained the engine's control panel. Meanwhile, Spamcan waited outside, thinking about what the colt said. It didn't lasted long, though.

Spike showed up, making his morning routine as a fitter - his small size proving to be a great use in his work. As he checked over Spamcan, more thoroughly than the driver, they began to talk.

"So... You're the trainer this week?" the dragon asked, checking his couplings and break pipes.

"Yeah." the engine replied shortly. He wasn't really in a talkative mood, heck, he wasn't even a talkative sort at all. But, you gotta socialize...

"It's Applejack."

"Really?" Spike asked "Good. She suits you." He had been around the engines for a time long enough to know their personalities and relations. They weren't that nice, but acceptable - better than the group of his own kind he had to deal with when he joined the Migration. The Other Railway engines were different - they were sullen, and rough, but not tumble and antagonizing like the dragons. They were also quite sardonic and sarcastic - much like him - and were in for a good laugh - "for a change", as they often said.

Spike himself WAS surprised how quickly he learned the "physiology" of the engines - their mechanism, namely - and was on his way to gain expertise. Naturally, the most problematic case was Derek with his constant overheating and other, plentiful engine problems. The Class 17 was optimistic, and this quickly stuck on Spike as well, whenever he was dealing with Derek - which was QUITE a lot of times.

As for Spamcan, while he naturally had no concept of what was the country and place the gruff goods engine came from, he could still see that he was a hard-working sort, who, if encouraged to actually DO his job, did it very well, even if half-heartedly.

"Yeah... I gue' so." the diesel replied, pondering "Although, CLE'LY, we'e NO' th' same. She's a' apple fa'me', I'm a freigh' diesel."

"Ah, you'll manage." the dragon replied, trying to scrub off some dirt from his lamps using the scales of his elbows "Besides, it could be worse..."

"Yeah, I figured." Spamcan replied before adding with a guileful smirk "I could've go'en Rari'y..."

The dragon only frowned on that comment, forcefully scratching the engine's paint with his tail as he examined the bogies.

Spamcan just laughed.

"Anyways." Spike grumbled, before changing his tone "Don't you find it suspicious that, all of a sudden, you're chosen to be working with Applejack, of all ponies, who suits you well? I mean, Twilight is a clever pony, the smartest I've ever met, beside the Princess, and she get's to work with none other, than THE 'Devious' Diesel!"

"Ya migh' be onto sum'thin' dere, lad..." D199 replied, after a pause "Yeah, tha's qui'e cu'iou'..."

They were interrupted by a voice coming from the cab:

"Alright, now that you know all the controls, let's see, how well can you drive." it was the voice of the workcolt "Let's start this nice and simple... The door's open, and I want you to drive Spamcan onto the turntable. You finished yet, Spike?" he asked, leaning out through the door.

"All done, sir!" the dragon replied, and stood aside.

"Right." the colt replied, and turned to the mare "Alright, Applejack, all set. Let's see how it's done."

"Alright! Let's go!" she replied. But as she looked down at the control panel, she grew nervous. Just to start this engine, she had to turn THREE different levers into separate directions. She began to sweat.

""It's OK, Applejack, you can do this!"" she encouraged herself, mentally. Slowly, with forelegs shaking slightly, she brought her hooves down onto the brakes and throttle...

Spamcan, still thinking about what Spike said, was woken from his thoughts by the feeling of his own engine starting with a rumble, two thick pillars of dark gray smoke shooting out of his exhaust, adding to the soot splodges on his roof. There was the hiss of his brakes, and, with rev of his engine, he lurched forward, towards the door - a bit too fast, maybe, but he trusted the colt enough to help the mare in case something goes wrong. He could see that the table was already set to his direction, but suddenly, something blocked his vision - one of the wings of the shed's door had mysteriously closed.

It was probably wasn't secured properly, and a gust of wind must of blown in shut, but that was the last of the engine's worries.

"Pull the brakes, PULL THE BRAKES!" the colt yelled. Panicking, the mare pulled just the right lever, and with a shrill hiss, Spamcan's brakes came on hard, his wheels screeching, but his momentum carried him on, slipping down the rails.

With a loud BANG!, he smashed into the door, making it slam open, finally stopping.

Immediately, the colt and Applejack jumped out of the cab, and rushed to his front, to see if he suffered any damage (or injury, given the fact he ran face-first into half a shed door), while Spike examined the door.

Thankfully, Spamcan wasn't hurt - his buffer was the first to crash into the door, and those things are sturdy - his face barely touched the door.

"I'm no' 'ur'." he muttered, surprised by the worrying ponies "Jus' star'ed."

The door, on the other hand, wasn't fairing that well. It's metal frame was badly twisted, some of the ground glass windows were fractured, or even broken, many hard wood planks were broken into splinters, and the hinges were deformed.

"Who opened this wing?" Spike asked.

Applejack's eyes went wide, and she bit her lower lip, before muttering.

"Ah... Ah did..."

"Sorry, that was my fault!" the workcolt interrupted quickly "I should of told you to fixate the door. Anyways..." he muttered "Let's continue with the training, we'll deal with the door later. But this time, be a bit SLOWER..."

It was as easy as pie (though, not Pinkie Pie, of course) from then on.

After the initial shock, Applejack's stress had disappeared, and she could handle tasks with ease.

Backwards or forwards, tackling sharp turns, and railway regulations, even Rule 55!

Soon, it was time for the earth pony and the diesel to pull their first train together. The colt had already left, leaving the two to deal with task themselves.

Spamcan was calm, even a bit bored, but Applejack was nervous again.

'Arry and Bert, the Ironworks diesels shunted their train of flatbeds full of metal girders and pipes. They were for a construction in Stalliongrad Oblast, which meant they had to take the train all the way to the northern border, where the North National Railways would take over. That was a long way away, so Spamcan had a nice, long refill at the fuel depot.

He did noticed, however, that Applejack was fidgeting around.

"If ya go'a go t' th' toile', go no', 'cuz' we ca' sto' du'in' th' tri' if we wanna ma'e i' ba' b'fo' mi'nigh'."

"No, it's not that, sugahcab." Applejack blushed. "Sugarcab" was her moniker for the grimy engine, who wasn't at one bit pleased with this, but didn't complained.

"It's just that... Ah'm worried..."

"'bou' wha'?"

"It's a looong trip we're lookin' towards... What if Ah fail?"

Spamcan grunted.

"Bullcrap. Th' o'ly one 'o ca' fail is ME. All YOU gotta do is kee' ca'm an' obey s'mapho's an' re'ula'ions. So don' worry. No' c'mon, we go' a train t' pull."

They trundled into the station, next to the narrower goods platform. The train was just being shunted in by the Iron twins - a long line of steel girders and pipes, all chained down in flatbeds. The trucks were newer ones, so they didn't needed a brake van. Spamcan gave them a small bump to test their weight - they were pretty heavy, but evenly balanced, so they would stay on the rails, even if they would be going fast in bends. The diesel was coupled up, but he didn't had time to turn around, which meant that Applejack had to go to his other cab, and that he couldn't see what's in front of the train - but at least could keep an eye on the trucks, well, the first one, anyway...

However, this didn't help the poor cowmare, who grew increasingly anxious, as she walked over to the other cab. She climbed in, and sat down on the seat, shaking slightly.

The shunters ran around the train, to see if anything was amiss. Finally, they were given the all clear - the electronic signal of the station turned green. With a deep breath, the mare released the brakes, and pushed the throttle forward, making the train move.

Suddenly, there was shrill whistle, and the light turned red again. Applejack quickly stopped the engine, and climbed out of the cab.

"What it Tarnation?!" she snapped.

"Well, we'e 'bou' t' fin' ou'..." Spamcan muttered, looking forward. The Doctor was running up to them.

"Wha's u', Doc?" the goods engine asked on a sarcastic voice.

"Sh-Sh-Sorry abou' that!" the brown earth pony huffed as he stopped beside them "There was a change of orders in the very last second!"

"Oh, Ah can imagine THAT!" Applejack muttered, but listened anyway.

"Nuh-Now, it seems that there was a change in the transport plan. A Stalliongradian engine is waiting in Manehattan Central's freight department. So your journey is reduced to that destination."

"Righ'." thus Spamcan.

"OK." thus Applejack.

"Alright. The line's clear, so I suggest you start as soon as possible. You'll have to take the same route, all the way to Trottingham Junction. It changes there, but they've been called in advance, so you don't have to worry around it..." Doctor Whooves continued, walking off to the other side of Spamcan, when he suddenly notices something... "Also, change the headcode! You'll have to be able to be identified!" and with that, he trotted off.

"Oh, bollocks!" the engine muttered. The mare looked puzzled.

"Headcode? What's that?" she asked, walking up to the end of the train. Then, she saw it.

Two black blocks in the front of this side, one with the the letters "AC" and the other with the number 10 in it, all white, and seemed to be illuminated by a faint light from behind. The glass covering them was incredibly dirty, yet, the code was still visible. They seemed to be a bit dispossession, though: the 'A' was a bit crooked, and the zero of the '10' was half off...

"What's all this about?" she asked. D199 took a deep breath.

"Ev'ry eng'ne on th' rai'way has a numbe'. Mine's Dee-One-Nine'ynine. Bu', if a' eng'ne 'as t' pul' a trai', dey also ge' a headcode. Mine hasn't bee' set fo' ye'rs ou' o' negligence. Bu' I 'AVE bee' giv'n th' new set of code le'ers fi'in' fo' DIS rai'way, an' a new device t' change 'em. Ya'll fin' i' on th' control panel."

Applejack quickly climbed back up, and soon found the device in question: a small box secured on the very right of the panel, with a four-digit quartz screen, and four nabs underneath it. As she turned it on, the faint light behind the code became stronger, simultaneously, as the screen of the device turned on. There was a clank, and the mare hurried outside, only to find that the 'A' and the zero were now perfectly on the spot, no longer crooked or half off, as if pulled tight on their black canvas. Climbing back in, she sat down, staring at the quartz screen, displaying the numbers and letters in red...

"Oh, God... I'll 'ave t' 'xplai' th' codin', righ'?" the diesel muttered.

"Ah believe so, sug." the cowmare sighed.

"Righ'..." Spamcan groaned, and began:

"Each ch'racte' ca' be a le'er, rangin' fro' A t' Z, or a numbe', rangin' fro' zero t' nine. The fi'st, lef'mos' ch'racte' ind'ca'es th' class of th' trai', so i's usu'lly a numbe'.

One, o' numbe' 1, mea's i's an e'spress trai', nomina'ed pos' or parcel train, o' any kin' o' maint'nanc' trai' goin' to fix sum'in', fo' example, clea' th' line fro' snow, o' - God forbi'! - a trai'wre'k, maybe fix th' ove'ead wires, o' assis' a fail'd train.

T'o, o' numbe' 2, mea's i's a no'mal pass'nger trai', o' a maint'nanc' trai' tha' has done i's job, an is returnin', o' maybe an Off'cers' Spec. trai', ya 'no', sor' o' li'e an inspecto' trai'.

T'ree, o' numbe' 3, mea's i's a freigh' trai' tha' ca' run fas'e' tha' 75 mph, essentially, an "E'spress Go's trai'", or a Spec-Aut empty train."

"A what?" Applejack asked.

"A Specially A'thorized trai' o' em'ty coaches."

"Oh."

Smapcan continued:

"Fo', o' numbe' 4, mea's i's a freigh' trai' tha' ca' o'ly go as fast as 75 mph.

Five, o' numbe' 5, is an trai' o' em'ty coaches.

Si's, o' numbe' 6, is a freigh' trai', tha' ca' o'ly go as fast as 60 mph.

Se'en, o' numbe' 7, is, again, a freigh' trai', tha' ca' o'ly go as fast as 45 mph, essentially, a slo' go's trai'.

Eigh', o' numbe' 8, is a freigh' trai', tha', ei'he' due t' i's load, o' th' timetables, CAN'T go fas'e' tha' 35 mph, o' o'ly has t' tra'el be'wee' t'o sta'ions.

Nine, or number 9, mea's i's an int'rnational trai', whi's 'as qui'e freakin' jum'y schedules."

"An' zero?" the mare asked.

"Eh. A locomotive tha' isn' nee'e' anywhe'e, so i' jus' tra'els down th' line, pe'haps i's bein' reloca'ed fo' th' time bein', o' wha'eve'. Worse case s'enario, i's on i's las' journey, as i's bein' sold t' ano'he' com'any."

He pondered for a moment.

"Now, we'e ta'in' a trai' tha' is deliverin' freigh', an' goes fas'e' than 75 mph, which mea's..."

"Th' fi'st numbe' is numbe' t'o!" Applejack exclaimed, not noticing that she had somehow picked up the grimy engine's accent for a moment "Now, wha' 'bou' th' se'on'?"

"Sto' mimi'in' me." the diesel grunted, making the mare blush.

"Sorry."

"Anyways, th' se'on' ch'racte' indica'e' th' region o' province, so, i's usu'lly a le'er.

A is fo' Appleloosa, an' th' west'n region in general.

B is fo' Brüissail, an' th' Europonian Union in general.

C is for Canterlot, an' since we'e in this province, i' may also mea' we'e goin' T' Canterlot i'self.

D is fo' Dainmark, and the Scandeneighvian region in general.

E is fo' Equestria, i' case i's a numbe' 9 class trai'.

F is fo' Fraunce, an' West'n Europone in general.

G is fo' Girafrica, again, i' case i's a numbe' 9 trai'.

H is fo' Hungery, an' Central-East'n Europone in general.

I is fo' Iraland, which mea's we'e NO' be goin' t' go de'e tha' much, as all services de'e are dun' by th' Eagleland Cross-Coun'y Rail Service.

J is New-Jockey, an' th' east coast o' Phillydelphia in general.

K is fo' Coltland, 'cause Canterlot to' th' 'C' ea'lie', again, all service is dun' by th' E.C.C.R.S..

L is fo' Lieutenania, an' th' Boltic region in general.

M is fo' Mexicolt, an' th' South'n states in general.

N is fo' Neighterlands..."

"Which means we're NOT goin' to go there, wha'ever the reason, WHATSOEVER!" Applejack interrupted in a hurried, declarative manner.

"Ya go' tha' fro' th' tip o' my tongue." Spamcan smirked, and went on:

"O is for Oxfort, an' th' Brutish Isles in general.

P is for Phillydelphia, spe'sificly, i's wes' side.

Q is fo' track testin' trai's an' extra-special deliveries.

R is fo' museum an' priva'e trai's.

S is fo' Stalliongrad, and th' Northern Region in general.

T is fo' tes' trai's, ya 'no', li'e pro'otypes, new rollin' stock, essetra.

U is fo' "Unde'cove'", to'-se're' trai's, usu'lly mili'ary.

V is fo' VENDETTA! Nah, jus' kiddin', it's fo' "Vaul' trains", specific pos' trai's tha' car'y impor'an' documents. Dese are of'en call'd th' "Absolute Numbe' Ones", as dey 'ave priority above any othe' trai'.

W is fo' Windigo Mountains, an' minin' trai's in general.

X is fo' Royal Trai's, Ou'-o'-Gauge loads, o' Gov'nmenta' trai's.

Y is fo' "Why" trai's, trai's with unspecified dest'na'ion an' load, usu'lly foun' stran'ed, an' withou' an eng'ne.

Z is fo' maint'nanc' trai's, rangin' fro' bre'kdown trai's through Wire-repairmen' t' snowploughs."

"And we're taking this to Stalliongrad, so..." Applejack began, but Spamcan interrupted her:

"In ou' case, it's different. While ou' trai' goes t' Stalliongrad, we're no' movin' beyond region borders. We're o'ly goin' t' Manehattan, so se' i' t' 'M'."

"Right." the mare replied, and set the second number, er, letter "What about the last two?"

"Those are usu'lly numbe's tha' specify th' very trai'. Since de'e migh' be dubl'cations problems, li'e t'o similar trai's, say, an e'spress an' a V trai', goin' t' th' same destination, bu' no fro' th' same sta't, o' in th' same time. So, thei' numbe's cou' be d'fined by thei' star'in' poin', 'ome sta'ion, o' th' time dey sta'ed."

"And... In our case?" Applejack asked, now thoroughly confused.

"Meh. Ponyville's radio code is MP-1, as i's a marshalin' yard, indica'in' "M", an' th' fi'st cross-gateway junction in th' region, indica'in' "1", it's called Ponyville, indica'in' "P". Which mea's th' identity code is 31, as i's fro' Canterlot, which has th' t'ird le'er in th' region an' city codin', an' i's th' fi'st big junction in th' region."

He thought for a moment.

"An' since dis trai' had bee' loaded up and arranged 'ere, i' carries th' 'ome code."

"Sooo...?"

"31."

"Right!"

Thankfully, they had been expecting them, so the train, headcode 2M31, trundled on, with ease.

Finally, they arrived at Manehattan Central. Soon enough, the train was shunted to a siding, where the Stalliongradian engine - a robust and large diesel consisting of two units - picked it up, and left without a word, although he did hooted a thankful honk to Spamcan as he passed. The goods engine was offered a wash-down, but he refused, and instead, asked for Vodka-Cranberry-Lime cocktail with a some ice, barely shaken - which he received. Applejack herself had a nice lunch at the employee's gastropub, before returning to her engine. Soon enough, they were ready to leave. Their trip to there was relatively short, only one and half hour, in contrast of the six or seven hours it would of taken to get to the borders. Still, the cowmare was surprised.

"The last time I went to Manehattan, it took a good four hours of trainride."

"Heh." the diesel smirked "Tha' wa' b'fo' th' lines we'e stra'gh'en'd an' sor'ed ou'. I had a chance t' spea' wi'h sum' o' th' drive's. Tha' Alexei guy di' wonde's t' th' lines, dey said. Th' trac's are much mo' stra'gh'fo'ward. Also..." his smirk grew proud "Ye've bee' drivin' a diesel, no' a steamie."

"Ummm... OK?" Applejack replied "What's wrong with "steamies", though?"

"Nothin', nothin'!" Spamcan replied, a bit too quickly "Bu' ya gotta a'mit, I'm faste'!"

"Yah are, sugarcab, yah are." Applejack smiled warmly, and pet the control panel.

"Aah, wha' a l'uv'ly scene..." sad a greasy voice "Too bad I 'av'ta interrupt it..."

Applejack looked up. So did Spamcan, and groaned angrily.

Another diesel engine, almost perfectly identical to Spamcan in shape and size, slipped in next to them, his signal also red. He was painted dark BR Green, with a cream stripe running across footplate-level, with silvery-gray roof, and had shiny stainless steel wheel tires, but, unlike Spamcan, his hub covers weren't yellow. He also had yellow warning panels, but his only reached half of his face in a rectangle shape. His face was also similar to Spamcan's in many ways: same baggy-ish eyes, a slightly more pronounced, but still noticeably angular set of eyebrows. But he was shaved, safe for a downy, barely noticeable stubble-mustache and similarly almost unnoticeable Van Dyke beard-stubble. Odd enough, while his nose wasn't dented, the end of the warning panel's yellow coloring ended in the same level of Spamcan's dent. The British Rail double arrows on him were also crooked, like on the grimy diesel beside him, but his leaned into the other direction.

"Well... I's been quite sum' time... Spamcan..." he hummed, cold and murky.

Spamcan didn't reply. He just looked straight forward, angrily.

"Oh. Still pissed ove' tha' li'e c'mpetition we 'ad, all those ye'rs ago? Shame..." he muttered with faked empathy, before adding with a whisper "Pissed li'e a stinkin' steamie..."

Spamcan just revved his engine, and kept looking forward, but his face was more and more contorted with fury. The other engine kept on smirking wickedly, his shady windows successfully hiding whoever was driving him. Applejack, who had been watching the whole thing, could practically feel the ire growing in the engine, so, determined, she leaned out from the cab, and called out to the other locomotive.

"Ay! Bother someone else, tin box! What's YAR business with 'im?!"

"Wha's i' to YOU, horse?!" the engine snapped back coarsely.

"I's MY engine ya're talkin' to! That's what!" the mare snapped back.

"YOUR'S? No' li'ely!" the engine replied with a sneer - He's th' prope'ty of th' railway! And YOU'RE just a trainee!

Applejack was taken aback.

"How do you...?!" she muttered.

"Don' think I CA' notice a rookie when I saw one. And NO rookie is goin' to tell ME better!" the engine growled in a low voice, making the cowpony back away more. That was, until she heard a laugh escape from the diesel's cab, an all-too-familiar one, that made her blood boil with anger, even though she wasn't certain about it's owner.

"WHO'S IN THERE?!" she snapped, leaning out from the cab "SHOW YARSELF!" she was looking straight into the other engine's windows, much to the surprise of both locomotives.

"OI! Back off, mare! Thi' is none o' yer business!" the green engine snapped, and rev his engine loudly.

"Why don' ya jus' FU'K OFF, Sulzer?!" Spamcan growled "Ya'r signa's gree', anyway."

'Sulzer' just chuckled.

"Temper, temper, brotha'... No need to hurl up th' licence recor's in fron' of an audience." he jeered, his brakes hissing as he released them. Slowly, he moved forward, still smirking.

"So long, Spamcan. 'ope we'll ge' to talk PROPERLY next time..." and with that, and a blow from his off-key two-tone horn, Sulzer oiled away, his engine rumbling smoothly.

Spamcan and Applejack just glared after him. If looks could kill, their glance would've very probably sent the diesel straight to purgatory, even without combining them.

They didn't talk on the way back. Nor did they talk once they arrived back into the marshaling yard. Both of them was still seething with fury. They simply parked on a siding, out of everyone's side. Applejack climbed out, and stood next to the engine's buffers, leaning against his bogie.

Nobody talked to them. In fact, the many trucks, coaches and workponies avoided even glancing towards them.
Finally, after a long silence, D199 finally spoke up, his glare turning from angry to his usual, nonchalant frown:

"Bastard."

"Eeeyup." Applejack muttered back, the glare leaving her face as well, as she turned to him "Is he your brother?"

"Sum'wha'." Spamcan replied, looking away "He's a Class 45. I'm a Class 46."

"So, he's the older one..."

"Yeah. Hi' name i' Sulzer, as ya may gues'."

"Is he really yar brother?"

"Ya ca' say tha'... We'e basi'lly th' same type o' eng'nes, wi'h sum' minor diff'rences. An' he's th' o'ly "rela'e" I 'no' of. Mos' o' th' othe's 'ave bee' scrapped."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that, sug." Applejack sighed. Scrapping seemed to be a recurring death among the engines, and while they could handle it easily, the mares were strained by the fact that intelligent beings like them were mass executed in such manners. They may have been machines, but this was NO WAY to threat a sentient being.

"Neve'mind..." Spamcan replied "Bu' wha' 'bou' ya? Ya go' all agro ove' 'is driver. Wha's up?"

The mare cringed...

"Nuthin'..." she lied "Just some... Family business..."

"Wha'eve' ya say..." Spamcan replied, still unconvinced.

Doctor Whooves walked up to them.

"Glad you two are back." he smiled "Applejack, your session ends here. You may go home now. As for you, D199, there's a delivery waiting for you at Sweet Apple Acres. You'll destination will be Canterlot."

"Actually, Docter..." Applejack interrupted "Would yah mind if Ah'll deal with this deliv'ry?"

"...Sure." the Doctor replied, after a short pause "He's your engine now. Princesses' orders!"

Soon enough, the cowmare and the goods diesel set off to the orchard. They couldn't approach from it's entrance, naturally, so, they went around it... Behind the orchard, the landscape turned hilly, as it was getting closes to the tall mountains in the distance... Pine forests grew around here, and a double rail line run up the incline. At the rear limits of the orchard, a cutting was made into the suddenly steep slope. The cutting was wide, it's bottom covered with powdered stone and ballast. The two lines went on, and, after a long detour, joined the mainline somewhere further. But where the orchard was closest to the line, a small yard was set up. It wasn't much, three long sidings added to the two lines, one next to the orchard's fencing, the other two, closer to the hill, with a tall pine forest looming over it at one side.

When Applejack and Spamcan arrived, they were surprised to see the little yard set up for them. It was filled with vans, and Diesel and Twilight were busy shunting them. The Class 08 then noticed them.

"Well, you certainly took your time!" he snapped at them, before resuming his indifferent look "We'll soon wrap this up, and shunt your train to the siding near the orchard. You wait there." and with that, he returned to his work.

Applejack climbed out from the cab, switched the points to the siding, then ran back to the the engine. Then, they quickly rolled onto the siding, stopping beside the orchard's gates.

"Ah still don' know what all this fuss is about..." Granny Smith muttered in a shaky voice, as Big Macintosh and Apple Bloom separated the various kinds of apples in to stacks of crates.

"It's simple!" Apple Bloom replied "We gotta organize the diff'rent kind of apples into diff'rent crates. This load IS going to Canterlot!"

"Eeeyup." Big Macintosh added, carefully placing a crate on top of a tall stack. Or at least he would've, if a booming horn wouldn't have scared him half to death.

"Damn, that's loud!" Applejack cursed. Spamcan only smirked.

"I 'no'. I pers'nally asked 'em t' replace my no'mal 'orn wi'h a ferry's, whe' i' bro'e."

"No kiddin'." Applejack muttered, stepping out of the cab.

"Applejack!" her sister cheered, running up to her "Yah came back!" and she gave her a mighty hug. Applejack only smiled, and hugged back, as Wiona and Big Mac run up to her as well, followed by the slowly trotting Granny Smith.

"So, how was work?" the senior work pony asked.

"It was fine. Easy, even..." Applejack replied, before adding with a chuckle "Once you get pass the shed doors...

Spamcan joined her in chuckling. This made the ponies finally notice him.

"Oh my gosh!" Applebloom gasped "Is that your engine, Applejack?"

"Th' one an' o'ly." the diesel replied, smirking. The young Apple just stared. Wiona ran around the engine, sniffing the bogies. She began to lower her rear next to one, but the engine snapped at her.

"Don' even THIN' 'bou' i'!" he barked. Obediently, the herding dog backed away...

"He sure is large." Big Mac muttered, examining the engine.

"Look 'ho's talkin'!" Spamcan replied.

"Owl callin' the sparrow a big-head." the stallion retorted.

"...Fair 'nuf'."

"Ever'pony, sorry, ever'one..." the orange mare spoke up "Ah'd like ya'll to meet D199. He was mah trainer, an' yokemate during mah session, an' Ah've been given the responsibility to be his permanent driver, and help him out with his work, WHEN an' IF Ah can come to the railway."

"Also, dis mea's I ca' com' 'ere, an' 'elp ou' wi'h yer deliv'ries." the diesel added "An' call me Spamcan... All o' my... Eh... Palls do."
"Nice to meet ya!" Apple Bloom greeted him politely "I'm Apple Bloom."

"Li'ewise." Spamcan replied with a smile.

"I'm Big Macintosh." the red stallion spoke "Pleased to meet ya." and he reached out with a hoof, to grab one of the engine's buffers.

"Sorry lad." the diesel smirked "Tha' thin' w'uldn't budge. I's no' s'ppose' to. Anyways, ya mus' be th' all aroun' ladies' stud 'ere." he went on with a smirk. A slight blush appeared on the stallion's face, before he chuckled full heartedly, dismissively shaking his hoof.

"Oh no. Ah'm far to busy for that!" he muttered bashfully.

"Too busy?" Applejack snickered "More like too shy! Not even Fluttershy is as awkward as ya when it comes to speakin' with the opposite gender!"

As Big Macintosh continued to blush deeper, looking away sheepishly, Granny Smith trotted up to the engine.

"Hmmmm... A bit dirty he is..." she muttered, running a hoof over Spamcan's buffer plate, and wiping the grime off from her hoof on the ground "He seems to be in good shape..." she added, examing the diesel's teeth, pulling his lips aside. "Ah say, he'll be a mighty good help in Sweet Apple Acres."

"But Granny Smith!" Apple Bloom explained "Spamcan can't help in the orchard. He's a train, he can't go where the rails don' go!"

"Well said." the engine muttered "But actu'lly, I'm no' a trai'. I'm jus' th' eng'ne, o' loc'motiv'. "

"What? But locomotives can't speak!" the elderly pony exclaimed.

"I' turns ou' dey ca'." Spamcan smirked again.

"Ya'r pretty odd for an engine, if yah don't mind me sayin'..." Big Mac muttered "And that Diesel fellow as well."

"Tha's b'cuz' we'e DIESEL eng'nes. No' steam eng'nes tha' yer prob'ly use' to. We run on oil, no' coal an' wa'er."

"Wait..." Apple Bloom muttered "So... Diesel is a diesel engine, and he's called..."

"Diesel. Yeah. No' re'lly creati'e, is i'?" Spamcan sneered. Tne others just stared, bemused.

Then, the above named shunter began to move the now organized train onto the same siding. Spamcan looked forward.

"Guess I'll be takin' th' trai' bum fi'st again."

The next second, Diesel slammed the train into his buffers.

"Ow."

After a while, the vans were fully loaded, thanks to the combined work of the Apples, while Diesel arranged the remaining vans onto the two other sidings. The headcode - 4C31 - was set, and the train was ready to depart. Well, almost...

"What do yah mean ya're comin'?" Applejack blurted out, his family members standing in front of her.

"We'll hav' to make sure the apples arrive safely. This IS Canterlot we're talkin' 'bout. We shouldn't upset the Princesses."

"Especially Princess Luna, right, big brother?" Apple Bloom asked, poking the stallion's side with her elbow, making him blush and look away again.

"Yah may be a goods engine..." Granny Smith went on "But that doesn't means ya're a GOOD engine as well. We'll come with yah to see how yah deal with this deliv'ry of crucial importance." then, she modestly added "Well, crucially important for us. We'll have to make an impression!"

"...OK. Soun's fair 'nuf'." Spamcan replied.

"But we can' go yet!" Apple Bloom exclaimed.

"Why not?" the other's asked, surprised. The youngest Apple pointed at the diesel.

"We can' make the deliv'ry with such a dirty engine! We ought'a clean him down first!"

"Wha'?" muttered D199.

"Yar right as rain, Apple Bloom!" Granny Smith smiled "Let's get the cleanin' equipment. Big Mac!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Big Macinthos replied, and the three trotted of quickly.

"...Bu' I don' wan' t' be cle'n'd." Spamcan muttered miserably, before a heavy frown came onto his face.

"Bugge'!" he cursed.

"It's alrigh', sugahcab!" Applejack smiled "We'll get yah spic an' spam quickly as possible, and then we'll set of to Canterlot."

"Bu' I told ya, I don' WANT t' be cle'n'd!" the diesel huffed "Th' las' thin' I wan' t' be is a loo'-a-li'e t' tha' posh twa', Stu'k-Up!"

"Why would yah look like him, sug?" the mare asked.

"Ya'll see i', once ya wash me down!" the engine snapped "I don' 'no' wha' all dis fuss is 'bou', anyways! Th' Princesses the'sel'es alrea'y saw me in my full "glory"! So, wha' th' poin' i' cle'nin' me?"

"That may be, Spamcan, but we can't just show up like this!"

"Applejack." the diesel muttered "We did. ON TH' VERY FI'ST BLOODY DAY!"

"Now, there's no need to be angry!" the cowmare frowned.

"No nee' t' be angry?" Spamcan spluttered "I'm goin' t' be scrubbe' down ag'ins' my will! Tha's at LEAS' se'sual molestation!"

"No, it ain't!" the earth pony retorted with a slight blush.

"Yes, i' is!" the Class 46 sniffed.

"No, it isn't!"

"I' is!"

"It isn't!"

"I' IS!"

"It ISN'T!"

"SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!!!" Diesel shouted from the siding "Or do you want me to slam the rest of these trucks into your SIDE?!"

"...Nope." came the mare and the engine's distraught, meek reply.

There was a long pause afterwards.

"Ya 'no' wha'? Am bo'ed." Spamcan muttered.

"Yeah. Ah should've gone too." Applejack replied. The engine thought hard.

"'ey, I' yer int'rest'd, dere's a radio an' sum' CD's i' my cab."

"Radio? Yah mean, like a music player?"

"Yeah, an' sum' CDs. Che' benea' th' control panel."

And so she did.

To her surprise, she found a patchwork stereo system, with first-class sub-woofers, and several stacks of CDs, all neatly packed on top, in specially made shelves.

That, of course, didn't helped the fact that the mare had never seen a Compact Disc before.

"What are these?" she asked.

"CDs. Th' music's all on 'em." came the reply.

"Oh, so are they like records?"

"Uhhh... Yeah, jus' mor' compact." the goods engine replied. Only now it has occurred to him that the ponies may not know about modern entertainment equipment.

"What are we goin' to listen to?" the mare asked.

"Pi' ou' one tha' ya thin' ya'll li'e, an' pu' i' in."

"Alrighty then..." Applejack muttered, and picked up a flat box from one of the selves, examining it.

It had an odd label, to be honest.

It was completely red, fading to black around the edges, with a yellow, five-pointed star in the middle, yellow beams extending from it's concave angles. On the star, there was a hammer and sickle, both superimposed and silver gray. It reminded her of something, but she couldn't quite put her hoof on it.

The title was also silver gray and metal-printed, reading: "COMMAND & CONQUER", with the under title being "RED ALERT", painted in ruby red.

There was also another under title, black with white edges, this one looked like it was harshly painted on with a brush, with a weird, Cyrillic-esque font, reading: "from ONE, THROUGH, THREE!"

"Huh... That's weird..." the farmer pony muttered, and carefully pried the box open with her hooves. Inside, she found a small plastic disc, thin as parchment, silver colored, with a transparent inside, the center cut out, leaving perfect, circle-shaped hole...

"Odd..." she muttered, before glancing at the stereo system. She soon found what she was searching for: a slit-like opening with a set of buttons under it. Carefully, holding the disk on the thinner edges with her two hooves, she placed into the opening, then gently pushed it in. She then gazed at the buttons, and soon found one that read "play".

Pressing it, she leaned back, and waited for the music to start.

Out of curiosity, Spamcan asked:

"Wha' disk di' ya choose?"

Then, it started.

"Uh oh..."

Applejack WAS surprised.

For a tune, it started mighty strangely.

She could hear marching. Intense marching, while an deep electric guitar riff lurked around in the background. The music seemed to be building around the rhythm of the march. Soon, percussion and more guitars joined in, making the music more lively... And more violent.

"Die Waffen, legt an!"

The tone went full blast, maximum overdrive. The rhythm remained, but the sound was bestial.

She was pretty sure it was army music, though not any type she had heard before. It was one hell of a march. The woofer banged loudly, so loud, she could feel the entire engine resonate...

It wasn't her kind of music, in fact, she never liked military tunes. But this just took her.

The resonance traveled down the rails, carrying the sound. It reached the yards, and echoed from every empty space located on the rails. Every truck, every coach, even the engines' cab pulsed with the heavy march.

Diesel stopped, and glanced at Spamcan. The big engine was lost for words, eyes closed, mouth shut, as he just listened to the music. Diesel himself said nothing as well, just stopped, taken by the militant beat.

Twilight poked her head out from his cab, mesmerized by the sound, and just kept staring at Spamcan. She wasn't a fan of war music, but the might of this one caught her in a trance-like state. All around Ponyville, the mares and stallions, fillies and colts stopped dead in their tracks, as the tune rocked on, the might of a Superpower on their shoulders, capturing their minds and hearts.

So many hearts, beating at once.

"Die Waffen, legt an!"

The tone changed, speeding up.

"Die Waffen, legt an!"

From heavy metal march... To technological trauma...

"DIE WAFFEN, LEGT AN!"

It still kept it's majestic might, it's force, it's power... The sound poured over the land like a tidal wave.

Going through the orchard, Big Mac heard the sound... Surprised, he stopped. But the sound forced him, so he continued, his trotting becoming more and more like marching. His eyes narrowed, as he pushed his chest out. The peaceful stallion felt ready for battle, ready for war, as he stomped on, hoofs thumping loudly...

The music died down the way it rose up: reduced to marching, with the megaphone voice repeating it's line, again and again:

"Die Waffen, legt an!"

Finally, after some time, it died down completely...

Applejack sat in silence, still comprehending the "music" she had heard. Repetitive and militant as it was, she was still left awestruck by it. She never felt such force coming from a tune, and she had listened to classical music before, which she believed to be the most awe-inspiring so far. THIS just beat everything.

"Can't believe you still kept that stuff!" Diesel snorted, trying to cover his awe.

"What was that?" Twilight blurted out, her trance finally broken.

"Meh. Just a theme for an old computer game." the shunter replied, reluctant.

"A... Game?!" the unicorn was speechless.

"Sug... What was that?" Applejack muttered. Spamcan found it hard to explain.

"Well..." he began "Dere wa' once a gre' superpowe' in ou' wo'l', called th' Soviet Union. I' wa' a gre' force which wa' based on th' ideology of communism an' socialism, na'ura'ly, i' didn' re'lly keep up t' tha', an' I eventu'lly collapsed, bu' i's memory live' on. I' reappeared i' many games, an' one o' 'em was th' game "Command & Conquer: Red Alert". Ya 'no', 'cuz' i's flag was comple'ly red, wi'h a yello' 'amme' an' sic'e on i'. Also, th' Re' Sta' was one i's well-'no'n symbols. Wha' ya 'ear' was a theme son' fo' i's game counterpart.

Applejack turned it's box around, the back decorated in a similar fashion as the front, the songs listed up, not with numbers, but with the letters of the Cyrillic (for her, Stalliongradian) alphabet.

Number... 'A' was titled "Hell March 1".

"No kiddin'..." she muttered.

Just then, track Б, "Hell March 2" began, sounding even more alien than the first one.

Voices came from the orchard.

"Qui'! Turn th' bl'udy thin' off!" Spamcan muttered hastily. Hurrying, the mare did so, turning the stereo off, just as Apple Bloom ran out from the orchard.

"Applejack!" she cried "Applejack, did ya heard that?!"

"Heard what?" the orange pony asked, as her sister jumped into the cab.

"Ther' was some strange music playing all over town! I bet they heard it in the train yard as well!"

Applejack gulped.

"Re-really?" she muttered, starting to sweat. Spamcan winced.

"Yeah! It was very odd!"

"Sorta' like military music!" Big Macintosh added, putting the equipment down, a large hose snaking behind him, disappearing into the orchard.

The goods engine and the mare glanced at their companions. Twilight just stared into the air, still looking bemused. Diesel, on the other hand, was smirking deviously, his eyes half closed with a content frown - but said nothing, he just reversed, going back to his work.

"Well, the tools are here." Granny Smith huffed, finally arriving at the scene "Let's git that engine cleaned!"

"Oooh nooo, oh no ya don't!" Spamcan protested, but couldn't move. His motor had been turned off, and his brakes were hard on. He couldn't escape.

"Don' ya dare!" he hissed, as Applejack raised the hose.

"Don' worry, sugahcab." Applejack smiled, before her face took up a nefarious look, her smile turning into a mordant smirk "Nopony will hear yer screams..."

That didn't stop the diesel from trying...

"HAAAAAALP! RAPE! RAAPE!" he shouted, as the first sponge touched him.

"Oh, be quiet, yah!" Granny Smith muttered, scrubbing the sooty roof of the engine "Celestia almighty! I've nevah seen so much dirt! When was your last wash-down?"

Spamcan stopped shouting, and thought back.

"Now? Exac'ly thir'y ye'rs, t'ree months, t'o wee's, fiv' days, se'en 'ours, fi'ty minutes an' twelve se'onds ago."

The ponies stopped, partly because they were surprised by the engine's precision, and partly because they were horrified about the amount of dirt that must have accumulated on him.

"If ya don' coun' th' rai'falls." the diesel added.

"This calls for heavy artillery!" Big Mac declared. One by one, the members of the family whipped out rough sponges, loofahs, and dressed up in Haz-Mat suit, complete with helms, while the stallion pulled out a water cannon from the bushes.

The goods engine's eyes went super wide.

"Ms. Sparkle, could yah lend a hoof?" Granny Smith asked, clad in cleaning armor.

"Of course!" Twilight replied smoothly, the same devious look spreading over her face, matching that of Diesel's...

In half an hour, Spamcan was completely scrubbed clean, even shaved - leaving only a "soul spot" above his chin.

His dark Rail Blue color shone, his yellow hazard panels never been so bright, along with his hub covers and the white, crooked BR symbol on his middle, dark gray roof bright as a pin, his buffer plates bright red again, round buffers painted dull black, looking good as new. The only thing left was the middle window of his cab, still cracked. In a flash, Twilight fixed it, the engine now complete, even waxed, with some gel on his eyebrows, the bags no longer present under his eyes, but a heavy frown remained persistent.

"There." the lavender unicorn sighed, tired after such vast use of magic. Finally, what seemed like an eternity, Spamcan was done, spic and... Spam...

"Thi' is embarrasin'..." he muttered darkly.

"Nonsense!" Twilight smiled "You look spot on!"

"E'zac'ly my poin'!" the engine barked back.

"Well, I'm glad it's done..." Applejack muttered, and looked over the engine "Gee-wizz, Spamcan! You look... Top-notch! Just... Dand-!"

"DON' SAY I'!" the engine growled, making the Apples take aback.

"He sure is a grump, isn't he?" Granny Smith muttered.

"Eeyup." Big Macinthos replied.

"Ca' we' ge' a mov' on?!" D199 grumbled "I wanna be don' wi'h dis an' ou' o' sigh' as soo' as possible!"

"Right, right!" Applejack replied, helping the elderly Apple up into the cab. Soon, all them were in. The cab wasn't very roomy, but they fit in quite easily.

"Alright! All aboard, ever'pony!" Applejack cheered "Next stop: Canterlot Central, Freight Yards!"

"Oh, can Ah pull the horn?" Apple Bloom asked, enthusiastically.

"That's not me to decide." her sister replied calmly "Spamcan?"

"Please, Mr. Spamcan, can I?" the filly went on, making the most adorable puppy-eyes. Sadly, all that effort went completely to waste, as she was trying to manipulate the control panel.

Still, the diesel chuckled.

"Sur', kid. I dare ya!" he snickered.

Gleefully, Apple Bloom pulled the horn's crank with all her might...

A thundering blare swept across the yard!

The smallest Apple tumbled back, dazed and surprised.

"That's loud..." she muttered.

"Too loud..." Big Mac grunted.

"Sounds like a ferry to me." Granny Smith put in, massaging her ears.

"Tha's e'zac'ly th' poin'." the diesel smirked, and revved his engine, as Applejack started him off, pulling the many vans with ease, rolling down the slope.

Once they arrived to yards, the diesel was disconnected from the train, and went around, the family inside him going over to the other cab. Canterlot was in the other direction, so Spamcan was able to look forward, and see what's in front of him.

He was then reconnected, and was ready to go, but had to wait for another train to arrive.

"What could that be?" Apple Bloom asked, impatiently "What can be more important, than the Princesses' delivery of apples?"

"Celestia's deliv'ry o' bananas?" the engine asked mordantly, making everyone in the cab - pass Apple Bloom, who remained puzzled - blush heavily, and avert their eyes from each other.

Just then, a sonorous, nasal-sounding horn blasted through the air.

"Oh BUGGE'!" Spamcan cursed, as the other train rolled into the station, stopping beside the passenger platform. It was Old Stuck-Up, the arrogant, the posh, the Chief Express engine of the Other Railway, his Azure Rail Blue color shining in the setting sun, his lamps, re-positioned lower because of his face, shining brightly, his pallid silver gray roof soaking up the disappearing rays of the sun. He stopped with a gentle hiss of his air brakes, his Double Arrow symbol with elongated horizontal lines in bright white for everyone to see... He glanced around, his bright, hazard yellow face expressing superiority and conceit.

That was, until he saw Spamcan, the latter's re-positioned lamps turned on as well, as he glared forward, purposely not looking in his loathed college's direction.

"Why... Spamcan..." the express engine muttered on his posh voice, looking rather amused "I've... I didn't expect you to, eheh, dress out like that..."

"Well... I wasn' MY idea..." the goods engine grunted in reply "Bu' ya 'no'... Ya go'a lo' nice fo' th' royalty..."

"Oh, so you're visiting the Princesses?" Stuck-Up was suddenly interested.

"Dis load o' apple's goin' t' 'em." the other diesel grumbled back "I still don' ge' wha' all th' fuss is 'bou'. I's no' li'e dey're gonna visi' th' freigh' ya'ds RIGH' DIS NIGH' t' inspect wor', ya 'no'."

"Well, you never know..." the snooty engine replied, smirking "But I'll have to admit, you look spot-on! Not like ME, of course, you're definitely different, but... It's not like we're the same, Spamcan..." he muttered soothingly, after the goods engine shot him a death glare "You SHOULD clean yourself more often, laddie..." the express engine smiled nobly, before he added with ha wink "I bet the ladies will be climbing over you, once you roll down that line!"

That finally broke the ice, as Spamcan glanced over to his snooty comrade, giving a thankful look and a content smirk...

A few minutes earlier, back in the small yard behind Sweet Apple Acres:

"MOVE, DAMN YOU!" Diesel cursed, as he bashed into the line of old vans in front of him again, to no avail, as the aging trucks' brakes were jammed hard on, blocking the siding.

"Bastards!" the shunter yelled, and reared back for another go "I'll give you ONE. LAST. CHANCE! You either move, or you're firewood!"

Wiona, who remained at the farm to guard it, barked furiously.

"OH SHUT UP, YOU TYKE! I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!" he shouted across the yard, his engine roaring furiously, as the trucks continued to jeer and laugh at him.

"CALM THE HAY DOWN, DIESEL!" Twilight snapped at him "Violence would get us nowhere! Remember what Reinstein said..."

"REINSTEIN?!" a truck burst out, the others guffawing on his lead "WHA'S THA'?! EINSTEIN COMBINED WITH GERMAN INDUSTRIAL METAL?! WHAT A KNOCK-OFF!!!" and they all burst out in snickers, cackles and giggles, shouting their variations for the name of the father of Theory of Relativity (and his pony counterpart).

THAT was a big mistake.

With an expression that looked like her face froze before she could complete a glare, Twilight spoke very punctually to the shunter.

"Diesel. I'm going to release your brakes now. You'll give those mudslinging detractors the hardest shove you ever done, and I'LL set them on fire. Got that?"

Diesel made a serious face, as he revved his engine.

"Gotcha!"

The next second, he shot out, giving an ALMIGHTY biff to the trucks, while the lavender unicorn's horn flared with her purple aura, the roof of the punk, old trucks catching on fire...

Unfortunately, the biff wasn't enough to smash them to pieces, or derail them, but it was strong enough to send them flying down the line, screaming in pain and terror, disappearing towards the yards...

Both mare and diesel could only utter with a petrified look frozen on their faces:

"Crap..."

The trucks rocketed down the line, slipping into the yards, careering through many switches and sidings, before they ended up on Spamcan's line.

Neither the engine, nor the Apples could believe what they were seeing. All they saw was burning van coming straight towards them, then everything went dark.

The first van hit Spamcan in the face, buffers breaking off, it's side collapsing. The crash was strong enough to put out the fire on that one truck, but the others were still ablaze.

"Dear Lord!" Stuck-Up exclaimed.

"AAAAARGH!" Spamcan screamed, as burned planks hit his face. Inside, the Apple family had ducked clear, just as large plank hit the middle window, cracking it again. As Applejack jumped off the seat, she accidentally knocked the brakes loose. The reverser was already set forward, and, subconsciously, she had set the throttle on full charge, when he saw the vans.
With a hiss of his brakes, and a roar of his engine, D199, stuck between his own train and a line of burning vans, slowly began to move forward, gaining speed, and disappearing out of the yard before anyone could do anything...

"Well... This isn't good..." Stuck-Up muttered, as Diesel and Twilight charged in.

"WHERE ARE THE VANS?!" they both shouted.

"Oh. Those. Spamcan just took them." the express engine replied simply, while thinking: "To the face."

"WHAT?! Where?!" Twilight exclaimed.

"I don't know..." came the reply "They just smashed into him, all on fire, and he shot off." and, after a short pause, he added "He was heading to Canterlot!"

"SHIT!!!"

Spamcan sped down the line at full speed. He lost the burning trucks in one bend, where they all derailed and were smashed into pieces in a ditch near the line, but the last van was still stuck on his face. He was going so fast, he sped past every control point before any action could be taken to stop him. He was steadily on his way to Canterlot.

The Princesses HAVE chosen that exact night to visit the freight yards, no sooner than sunset. They were in the main shed, when suddenly, the alarm went off. The two alicorns exchanged surprised glances, as the workponies rushed around them in a hurry. But all stopped when a thunderous crash echoed around the yard.

Smashing to the iron door of the large cargo shed, came a small freight train, with a diesel pulling several vans, and... Pushing... A burnt one...

The cavalcade sped past the two celestial sisters - it was only then that Applejack had realized what she had to do. Jumping back into the seat, she pulled the throttle back, put the reverser in neutral, and set the brakes on.

Screeching loudly, the train skidded down the tracks, getting closer and closer to the concrete-supported buffers.

The old truck BURST in to smithereens as it collided with the buffer stop, it's parts flying everywhere, as Spamcan finally came to a stop, the disappearing momentum making him jolt back, as he gently reached the buffers with a dainty clank.

As he finally stopped, he let out an exasperated sigh, his engine revving up, and blowing out pillars of smoke through his exhaust.

The vans behind him also sighed in relief.

As the workponies ran up to the train to check for any damage, the dizzy and disoriented Apple family climbed out the cab, with Big Macintosh vigorously kissing the concrete platform with infatuation not different from a desperate kind of love, before collapsing out of exhaustion, just as Princess Luna arrived in front of him.

"My dear ponies!" she gasped, leaning down, her muzzle awfully close to Big Mac's "Are you alright?"

Instantly, the stallion shot back up, trying to put on his placid face again, nervously chewing on his now broken thread of grass.

"Princess... An honor to meet ya again..." Apple Bloom muttered, staggering around "Could you make the world stop spinning?"

"Ehehee!" Granny Smith cheered "That was SOME ride, my dear Princess!" she talked to Celestia "It was mighty clever of ya to employ these new-fangled deisel engines!"

The white alicorn could only blink, before she turned her head to the nearest "deisel" present.

"199!" she snapped "What is the meaning of this?!"

Even after a near-death experiment, Spamcan STILL had the ball bearings to talk back:

"Wha'? YOU orde'd th" damn apples, no' me!"

The princess was about to reply, when an odd sound hit her ears...

It sounded like marching, with some musical background, electric guitar riffs, to be specific.

It came straight from Spamcan's cab.

The goods engine and orange cowmare exchanged desperate looks, and cursed out, as the music kicked into full swing.

"AW FBU--!!!"

"DIE WAFFEN, LEGT AN!"

Episode 3 - Enterprising Mare(s)

ENTERPRISING MARE(S)

PART ONE

"Oh, COME ON! Where IS that driver?! I should be getting ready for my morning run!"

The voice saying those very sentences was extremely posh and blustering, though not speaking as carefully as your stereotypical upperclass would - clearly, it's owner was either a working class Tory (*cough*Norman Tebbit*cough*), or something similar: a working class person turned upperclass (like a good few years ago).

And in our case, the latter was true.

For the owner of the haughty voice was the arrogant engine number 40125, his name being Sir Alaric English Electric. Most of his colleagues simply called him Old Stuck-Up, so that they won't have to say his full name, and to avoid the embarrassment when jumbling up the words 'Sir Ara...' 'Sil Ala...' 'Si Rala...' 'Sir Ulrich...' 'SIR ALARIC!!!' (God, that was embarrassing!).

Anyways, Sir Al... Old Stuck-Up was resting in a shed with his "retinue", now consisting of Philippa & Emma, the Class 43/II High Speed Twins. Together (and with some coaches), these two girls made up one InterCity 125 set. They were indeed High-Speed trains, capable of running over 126 miles per hour with ease, even when full. For this, however, they still haven't been granted the privilege of pulling the Express. They didn't mind, though, as they preferred commuter and shuttle work over the snooty and few and far between express runs - they were from a generation of newer diesels that still tried to prove their worth, and be very useful. And also, that was Stuck-Up's job.

He was main express engine of the Other Railway, now the main express engine on their section of Equestrian Rail: the Manehattan-Canterlot route.

This snooty engine was, initially, outraged to find out that he had been transferred from his home world (Britain, Earth) to Equestria, but, after a little while, he figured out that living in a world of ponies and other beings was better than being the slave of his own creators, the many times accursed humans.

And indeed, the equines treated them better, locomotives and rolling stock alike.

However, that didn't changed the arrogant diesel's attitude.

"Now just WHERE IS that stupid mule?!" he now burst out.

"Stuck-Up!" Pip snapped at him "That is NO way of talking about our caretakers!"

"Oh, SHUT it!" the express engine hissed "Who are you? My mother? I have the right to make indignant complaints, you know! Driver should be here by now! So what IS that horse doing?"

"Sleeping." Emma muttered, matter-of-factually "Or working somewhere else."

"WORKING SOMEWHERE ELSE?!" Stuck-Up boomed "He's MY DRIVER! He shouldn't be working somewhere else, he should be working here, preparing me for my morning express!"

"Prepare? We're DIESELS, for cryin' out loud, all we need is short check-up and refill, and we're ready to go!" Pip argued.

"For you COMMONERS, that may be!" the express engine grunted "But for such an important, high-standard locomotive like ME, preparations must be done delicately!"

"More like daintily!" Emma groaned "Anyways, the reason why your driver isn't here because it's your turn to train a newbie!"

"AND!" Pip added "If the rumors going around are true, he or she'll be your official driver if the training is successful!"

"Oh. Right..." the engine groaned, grudgingly. He really wished there would be others to talk to, as conversation with the railway's Token Girls was proven to be increasingly annoying. But there was no chance, the others had already left, and also...

"They're probably searching for us, too." Pip muttered "PERHAPS, it wasn't such a good idea to sleep separately."

Last night, there was a heated argument between passenger and freight engines, which resulted in the two groups going to different sheds - Old Stuck-Up, Bowler, Pip & Emma, and Cromwell slept in the yard's smaller shed with a transfer table, while Diesel, Spamcan, and the Ironwork Bros, Iron 'Arry and Iron Bert slept in the carriage works a few miles up the line. The yard workers and the designated drivers, including Twilight Sparkle, Applejack and Pinkie Pie, had been informed about the quarrel, and came prepared the next morning.

The only engines left in the main shed were BoZo, Derek, the Brakefather, and Steamie.

Next morning, the shed was found nearly empty. NEARLY.

The floor and the rails were littered with machine parts and pieces of thorn metal, motor oil and diesel fuel splattered all over the walls and the support beams, gathering in puddles on the ground, some dripping from splodges on the ceiling, the windows darkened with soot, giving the building an eerie dim atmosphere.

And in the corners were the obliterated bodies of the engines, completely and utterly destroyed, mutilated, with pain and terror frozen on their faces.

And in the middle berth, back, right in front of the buffers, was Steamie, covered in the mechanical gore that left a sour smell lingering around in the shed, his small body illuminated by the only source of light, as lamps were busted: the opening of a vent, with the fan spinning lazily in it, as the tank engine made quick paced moves, back and forth, back and forth, wheeshing red tinted steam, and cackling madly, a maniacal grin frozen on his mouth, under his widely open, blind-looking eyes.

There was a small, repetitive thud coming from his cab.

If one would've looked inside, they would of found the body Pinkamena Diane Pie, suspended in a catatonic state, but still alive, her eyes staring upwards blankly, as she was slowly covered in the crimson vapors pouring out from the firebo--...

Wait.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

THIS isn't the script!

I didn't even wrote this stuff! YEEUCK!

Who the hell...?

. . . . . . .

DIESEL!

YOU CUNT!

Anyways....

The door of the shed suddenly opened.

Spike came in, wearing his blacksmith apron as a work suit, with a tiny orange high-visibility vest above it, his head spikes covered by the brown cap of a fitter. He was followed by to two workcolts, who quickly trotted up to Pip & Emma. Spike, on the other hand, went straight towards the express engine.

"Morning, Stuck-Up!" he greeted him cheerily. The diesel just huffed, and rolled his eyes, replying:

"That's SIR Stuck-Up to you!" he grunted "Anyways... Are you going to be my driver from now on?"

"What? No, of course not!" the dragon replied, oiling his bogies "I'm just your fitter. But I AM taking you to your trainee driver!"

"Oh, good." the engine sighed "Who is it going to be, by the way?"

"Beats me." came the answer "But we're soon to find out."

He climbed into Stuck-Up's cab - so did the two colts into the High Speed Twins' cabs - and, one by one, they rolled onto the transfer table, each set on their own route, with the twins going for the carriage works - back to back - to pick up their coaches for the morning shuttle run, while the snooty Class 40 set out to the station.

Once arriving, he, and his momentary driver found it empty, devoid of life, aside from a few sleepy porters. He stopped beside platform No.1 - there were only four platforms, as Ponyville itself wasn't such an important town, but the marshaling yard, and the fact it was a transfer point between international routes made it turned it's station to an establishment of the highest importance.

The dragon got out, and went around the engine, giving him a more thorough overlook.

As he proceeded, clops could be heard on the platform. Spike was too busy to look, but Stuck-Up was keeping an eye out. Soon, he saw the source of the noise - and was all smiles all of sudden.

Trotting down the platform was a pure white unicorn mare with indigo-violet mane and tail ironed curly, followed by a smaller, younger unicorn filly, her fur a damper white, her mane and tail also curled, but with a more natural shape, colored lavender-thistle. They trotted up directly to the azure Rail Blue engine - tranquil and refined was the older's movement, determined and spunky was the younger's.

As they got closer, Stuck-Up could even make out the mare's cutie mark: three sapphire-colored diamonds. The younger one's flanks were empty. Blank. In her young age, she was yet to discover her special talent.

They stopped, a mere two meters from his front, a two pair of eyes, one blue and one green, set on his yellow front, as he smiled warmly at them, and called out to the young fitter:

"Spike! Come and meet the trainees!"

Following his call, the baby dragon climbed up onto the platform beside him, his face and claws partially covered in grease, blackened by dirt, some even covering his vest.

"Oh, my goodness! Spike!" Rarity exclaimed, and quickly whipped out a handkerchief - hoofkerchief - from her saddlebag, quickly trotting to the dragon, who was still huffing from climbing onto the platform.

"Hey, Spike!" Sweetie Belle greeted him, walking closer to the engine, and looking at him "And good morning to you, Mister, errr... 40125?" she asked, hoping that she remembered the digits right, before she noticed it was painted on his side, and read it up. They weren't even using such long numbers in school!

She registered it with relief, when the big locomotive chuckled, his smile remaining, as he glanced at her through his large monocle.

Meanwhile, Rarity was busy rubbing off whatever she could from the used petroleum derivative stains on her scaly friend. In the same time, Spike was in a sort of love-struck trance, his eyes not focusing with a goofy smile on his face, as he let the ivory mare wipe him, standing awfully close, with that adorable, duck-face pout on his lips, her eyes gleaming as she concentrated hard on getting the splodges off. Finally, with an exasperated sigh, she gave up, and retreated with the hankie, now also covered in the oily substance.

"Oh, it's no good, Spikey!" she muttered "I can't seem to get it out from your scales!"

This snapped him out of his trance.

"Oh! Never mind, Rarity! I'll wash it off later! B'sides, I doubt this'll be the ONLY dirt I'll have to wash off tonight, I AM a fitter, after all..." he added with a sarcastic smirk.

"Oh." the unicorn replied, a bit bemused "Alright." she then smiled "I guess it's only fitting for you to keep the splodges. Hmph. Workmen." she added with pseudo-disparaging tone "Always trying to get dirty!"

Spike only chuckled.

"Ah-Alright. But I think you also have a job to complete. Well, more like a session, but..."

"Ah, yeees!" Rarity exclaimed, and galloped back to the front of the engine, the dragon following her.

"There you are!" Stuck-Up sniffed, now grown a bit bored and offended that Rarity completely ignored him. Sweetie Belle was, at LEAST, polite and respectful enough to properly greet him, even if the little filly didn't know his name. No surprise there, though, it IS a long name, he had to admit, although, he knew longer ones. But, the young pony was still quite shy.

The diesel expected her to start a conversation instantly, but it seemed he misjudged her - he was either shy, or couldn't find the words to start. Again, he wasn't surprised, he doubted the young equine had ever saw a proper, DIESEL locomotive before - he wouldn't been surprised if she was just mesmerized by his looks. Naturally, the equine society was DEFINITELY not the target he hooped for in questions of affectionate admiration, but that, of course, didn't helped the fact that he was, all in all, a dashingly good lookin' fellow - or at least he thought so.

"Done with your love affairs, luv'?" he asked, sarcastically, making both mare and dragon blush heavily, while the filly giggled.

"Y-Yes... Quite..." Rarity muttered, before she shook her head slightly, and smiled "Pleasant good morning, Sir Alaric!"

This made the engine smile his brightest smile yet - for the first time in decades, somebody talked to him properly! This mare just might turn out to be the driver of his dreams!

"...Alaric?" Sweetie Belle asked "You said they called him 'Old Stuck-Up'."

As Spike burst out laughing, and Rarity smiled with embarrassment, the now frowning Stuck-Up just sighed.

"That's just a... SOBRIQUET my colleagues gave me." he explained to the filly.

"Oooooh!" she replied "What's a "sobriquet"? - she asked."

"Sort of like an offensive nickname." Rarity explained "Like when Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon calls you a 'Blankflank'."

"Oh." Sweetie Belle said with a frown, before she looked at the engine with sincere guilt.

"I'm sorry, Mist--, I mean, Sir Ara... Sil Ala... SiR ALaric!" she spoke, with great difficulty. It reminded Stuck-Up of the slurred speech of a certain steam engine, an old, mooching "friend" of them on the Other Railway, converted into an alcohol-powered one for a parody series, then left on the dry with strong alcoholism, and great powers. He often wondered what happened to the bad blooded - or more likely, bad fueled - drunkard of a chum they all loved to hate and hated to love. But, to compare their long-lost socially challenged drinking friend with the innocent little filly before him... The mere grotesqueness of the idea made him laugh.

"You can call me Stuck-Up, lassie." he snickered "But, I haven't been properly introduced. Spike, be a good chap, and...!"

"Right, right..." the dragon interrupted him, rolling his eyes, before clearing his throat, and continuing in a presenting tone:

"Mares and... Mares, I'd like you all... You two to meed Sir Alaric English Electric, chief express passenger locomotive of the Other Railway!" and then, sardonically, he added, waving his hand in a dismissive manner "But we all call him Old Stuck-Up..."

"Why, though?" Rarity asked, then instantly regretted the question.

"'Cause he's one big box of hot air and arrogance!" he replied with a smirk "Though, Doctor Whooves calls him by his number, 40125. It's his habit."

The engine shoot a dagger glare at the small fitter, which actually made the mares take aback - this expression made him look formidable. But he quickly caught himself, and reassumed his smile, a soft frown still present, his pronounced, bristly eyebrows lowered under his furrowed yellow forehead, as he spoke gently:

"With nobility comes pride, and SOMETIMES..." he went on, now jokingly quieter, pseudo-whispering to the little filly "...Even I get too big for my wheels."

"No kiddin' right there!" Spike muttered, but another glare from the engine made him shut up.

"Right." Rarity spoke, still bemused "Let's get started, shall we?"

"Lets." the engine replied calmly. There was a 'click' sound, and his cab door opened.

Obediently, Rarity and Sweetie Belle climbed in, and as the door closed, Stuck-Up couldn't help but notice that Spike was staring at him with envy. This gave him mixed feelings. For one, he enjoyed taking the piss on the dragon for mocking him, but on second, the poor lad was clearly "suffering" from FYLS - First, Young Love Syndrome -, a totally common illness which's outcome was totally dependent on the subject of adoration. Spike would certainly be lucky if Rarity would return his feelings, even if it wouldn't last long - that's one way of overcoming the illness, by gaining experience from it -, and if it would turn out to be One-Case? Their love everlasting? A happy end, definitely, too sappy and sugar-coated for the express engine's taste. The other extremity?

He breathed in deeply, mentally wincing on the thought.

Herzeleid.

Sure, Spike was stronger than to do something stupid, for example, end his damned life out of a heartbreak, but he was sure he wasn't smart enough to NOT do anything ELSE stupid. Like run away to prove himself as a dragon-slaying dragon knight, or something.

He had to force himself keep the snort in, as he laughed inwardly on the mental image of Spike in an a horned hat and viking-roman-esque armor, shouting "FUS DO RAH!" at a group of larger, more vicious looking members of his kind.

He then noticed that Spike was still staring at him, now with a challenging look. The diesel brushed it off:

"What are you still doing here?! You got a job to do! Bugger off!" he shout-whispered, finally making him snap out of his gaze, nod, and run off, back into the yard.

With a content smile, Stuck-Up decided it was time to check on his protege.

Stepping inside, the two ponies gasped.

"Now THIS... Is what I call a working environment!" Rarity cried with jubilation. The engine's cab was roomy, clean, and up-to-date - as far as he could tell, having never seen a diesel from the inside before - she was too intoxicated the last time she was in the engine's cab. The control panel was sparkling clean, every knob, dial, button, lever and crank neatly and clearly labeled, the many meters clean and easy to read, the windshields scratch-, and washing-stripeless. The entire cab was well lit, with a door leading to the engine room, the floor covered with neat, gray plastic, filled with tiny glimmering particles - probably Mica. The seat was grand, a wheelless swivel chair, covered in magnificent, chocolate brown (fake) fur cover with similarly coated armrests. With a squee, Rarity jumped into the chair, leaning back in a manner akin to a good friend of her's, Lyra Heartstrings' ways of sitting. She gingerly rubbed her back into the fur case, moaning quietly, resisting the most strangest, and strongest urge to purr.

"MMmmmmmmmh!" she exhaled, finally relaxing. A slight, gentle, sobering frown crept onto her face. The chair was deliciously cushy, yet... Uncomfortable enough to keep her awake.

"Right." - she thought, and leaned forward, only to find her sister, already beside her, also enjoying the seat. No pony was exactly sure just HOW big humans were - not even Lyra! -, but judging by the size of the seat, if this was JUST perfectly sized for a human to even rest his head against it - then they were considerably larger than the average pony, probably larger than Princess Celestia herself.
"Probably as large as Alexei." - Rarity pondered, smiling wryly at the memory of the odd... God that introduced the engines to them. HE described himself as "merely" humanoid - did humans had more details then?

Wouldn't be much of a surprise.

One thing she easily figured out about the foreign deity was that he was a simple soul, not one to show off, not even with his looks - meaning his body physique was probably magically simplified. Forget probably - she could of easily drawn him down, or at least his silhouette, JUST by using various geometrical shapes - not even difficult ones, just triangles, tetragons and ONE circle!

What veered his thoughts off from the simplicity of a god was her sister, speaking to her.

"It sure is comfy." she chimed "When do we start?"

"All in good time!" a familiar voice said, making both of them jump.

"Stuck-Up?" Rarity muttered "Is that you?"

"Why so surprised?" the voice, definitely that of the engine's, replied "You two ARE IN my cab, practically, my HEAD."

"Does that mean we're hearing your thoughts?" the filly asked.

"Oh, no." came the mirthful reply "I AM speaking, although engines DO have the ability to telecommunicate, using the ether itself as chatbox, their thoughts being the messages."

"...What?" the mare muttered.

"Can you teach me how to do it?" the filly asked.

"Maybe later." the diesel replied "Right now, I'll have to teach your sister."

A lot of explaining and discussion later, Stuck-Up spoke up.

"Alright, with all that being said, let's get onto the physical part, shall we?

"Indeed." Rarity replied "You've been taking notes sedulously, RIGHT, Sweetie Belle?" she asked sharply.

"Notes?" the diesel muttered "I understand this is a lot to remember, but having your little sister to write down EVERYTHING..." he gave a disappointed sigh "I DID NOT expect this from you, Rarity Belle."

"What?! No! I... Wait. How do you know my full name?" she asked. The engine huffed.

"You called her Sweetie "Belle". It's kind of obvious it's your surname."

"So your surname is English Electric?" Sweetie asked.

"Yes. The company that built my kind is called "English Electric". They produce a lot of things, and one of them was British Rail's Class 40 locomotives."

"British Rail? Class 40?" the sisters asked.

"British Rail was the nationalized railway system and company of my motherland, Great Britain. And, the many locomotives, steam, diesel and electric, were separated by their kind and built, in groups called classes. I'm a Class 40 diesel-electric locomotive. And before you ask, that means that the diesel internal combustion motor located behind you, in the engine room, does not directly powers my wheels, but rather a generator, which then powers the traction motors located on my bogies. As Dr. Whooves for detailed blueprints. It's not likely that copyright infringement would hurt anybody here, or that anyone would have the materials to produce, especially MASS produce diesels like me."

"Why not?" Rarity asked. Sweetie was too busy writing.

"Well, for once, I asked Alexei the other day he checked up on us, and it turns out that literally ALL of Equestria's soil is devoid of any petroleum, which is the very basis of our fuel, diesel oil. And second, while your world is advanced in such subjects as magic, biology, alchemy, and such, even the most advanced nation, the griffons, are a good 90 years behind us in terms of technology, industry, and energy. The distance - sky and ground, my dear, sky and ground. But I guess it's better that way. At least this world doesn't has to suffer from the terrors that technology did in our world.

"I'm afraid to ask..." Rarity uttered, her throat suddenly dry "But... What sort of terrors?"

Stuck-Up was quiet.

"I'd rather not say. For Sweetie's sake."

"Awww..." the filly muttered "This is one of those "big mare" stuffs, right..."

"You can put it that way, Sweetie Belle." the engine replied murkily "Though not the taboo topic you usually bump into."

"Huh?"

"Let me just ask this: you know what death is, right?"

"Why... Of course..." the filly muttered, now uncertain "The end of life."

"Good. And you know what's the name of the act, when somebody, or rather, somepony, takes somepony else's life?"

"Marriage?"

The mare and the diesel snorted with laughter.

"No, at least not in the sense I meant. But close. It also starts with the letter 'm'." Stuck-Up replied after some time.

"...Murder?" Sweetie whispered, now visibly afraid. Rarity gently hugged her, as the engine went on, with dark solemnity.

"Indeed. It is called murder. Now, my creators, the humans, were grand enough to create useful things that helped both them, and each other. But in many cases, they rather create things that, at least in one way, is able to end someone's life. In fact, many times, TOO many times, their technology advanced because they wanted to end each other's lives in great numbers, for their own gain."

"They advanced... Trough war?" Rarity whispered, also terrified. The last stone was about to fall.

"Genocide." came the somber reply "They advanced their technology to wipe out each other, more and more efficiently. And even now, after reaching what we could call perfection, they keep on making more and more lethal discoveries, every and each supporting no one's side, being no one's gain, but being the tool of torture, murder and destruction... Yet... They built us..."

The ponies were clinging to each other, shivering. Not because of cold, though, but because of the icy terror running marathon on their spines, with the heavy weight of grief in their hearts.

"Why does Sweetie has to take notes, anyhoo?" the diesel asked on a lighter tone.

"Oh, uhhh..." the mare was surprised by the change of topic "Well, let's say, SOMEPONY has forgotten to write their report, and choose to mention this the VERY LAST NIGHT before they had to hoof it in.

"Wasn't my fault!" her sister proclaimed "I had nothing to write about! I did one about you last year! Couldn't do the same thing twice!"

"So I took her out from school for a day, to ensure she'll be presenting a top-notch report tomorrow, after spending a day with her sister, who also happens to be learning... How to drive an engine, now it seems..."

"An EXPRESS engine, my dear." Stuck-Up added "Now, where IS that Diesel? He's supposed to be here by now, with my coaches!"

"OH MY GOODNESS!" Rarity shrieked "I just remembered!"

"What?!" the engine asked in alarm.

"The Doctor had told me that we should fetch our own coaches, as I'll have to learn how to control a big engine like you! And I was supposed to TELL YOU THAT!"

In one moment, a bitter and foul swear was climbing it's way up in Stuck-Up's physically questionable throat - then, he pondered.

"What day is it today?" he asked.

"Monday."

The diesel smiled broadly.

"Then don't worry! I only have a mid-day, and a midnight run today. Pip and Emma take care of the morning and afternoon commuter runs."

"Who?" the two mares asked.

Suddenly, there was the blast of a two-tone horn, and, with a rumble and a modest roar, something long, blue, and incredibly fast passed by them, it's yellow end winking them goodbye!

As the two mares stared with astonishment, Stuck-Up only chuckled.

"Show-offs..." he snickered...

"WHAT was that?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Correctly, WHO was that?" Rarity added, remembering the cheeky wink.

"Why..." the express engine beamed "That was Pip & Emma, the InterCity 125!"

"And this is how you connect the break pipes..."

"Sooo... First I fix the coupling?"

"Yes."

"Then I connect the pipes."

"Yeah."

"And then? Is it done?"

"Oh! I almost forgot! The coaches also have to be electrically connected to the engine!"

"Why?"

"There's lots of stuff in them that uses electricity... You know, like the lights, the air conditioning, the heating... Comfort stuff like that..."

"Oooh!"

"So, you'll have to connect the wires to the right socket, otherwise, the whole thing will sort-circuit."

"Whatever does that mean?"

"Dunno. But the last time I made one, the sockets exploded, and the wires caught on fire!"

"Oh dear!"

"It was easy to repair, well, the wires at least. Should of repaired the sockets, though..."

"Why? Did something went wrong?"

"Well, the workcolts never really looked at it, and the next time I tried to connect the wires, the whole electrical system of the coaches burned out! Every light bulb exploded, the A.C. went haywire and threw sparks everywhere from it's vents, and the heater bellowed smoke... It was only a miracle that the coaches didn't burned down right then and there..."

"Wow... That's unfortunate..."

"You could say that..."

"WAIT!" the engine gasped "You said my normal coaches were only getting overlooked!"

"Uuuuuh..." the dragon muttered, unsure of what to say...

"I think..." Sweetie Belle interrupted "He meant to say... "Overhauled"... If I got that term right."

"Ah yeah! Yeah, that's it!" Spike exclaimed, before whispering to the filly "Thanks for saving my tail there!"

"You're welcome!" Sweetie whispered back, smiling 'Everything for my sister's colt-, I mean, boyfriend!"

That made the little fitter blush.

Stuck-Up was fuming.

"I. CAN'T. Believe this!" he declared, indignantly "My own coaches scorched by the negligence of some lazy workmen! Why, that never happened on our OLD railway!" he blustered "And TRUST me, that place was Fate's Rendezvous spot!"

"Oh, I'm sure it was only an accident, darling!" Rarity soothed him as best as she could. She was apparently cleaning his engine - the only thing she was allowed to change on him, as both the diesel, the workponies, AND Spike, had clearly stated, explained, and ordered her to leave the express engine's design, coloring and decor as it is. Reluctantly, she agreed. Although the coloring was nice, she had to admit, it still felt very dull, empty for her taste. But, orders are orders.

As explanation, they mentioned regulations, identification, and class, most of which she ignored, as the majority of it was more jumbled and foreign-sounding than the times Twilight got a "mental diarrhea" (as Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash often named their studious friend's rapid explaining sprees).

Rest assured, she left the diesel as he was, but not without cleaning out his engine - which was mandatory, and part of her session, anyway. Initially, she was disgusted by the idea of removing oil sludge from hot metal parts, only to apply a fresh layer of grease, but soon enough, she was convinced to do so (majorly by her little sister, who decided to do the dirty work herself, WITHOUT using her horn!) - better safe than sorry!

The engine, on the other hand, was still cross...

"Those miserable, oafish putzes..." he growled "Screwing up MY coaches. MY express!"

"Hey, don't blame me! I changed the wire!" Spike retorted "Blame to other workponies for not checking the outlets! AND Cromwell, HE messed up the electric system!"

"PAH!" the diesel harrumphed, and went silent with disdain.

Not only did he had to shunt his own coaches, a source of irritation, irritation he so far managed to hide, not ONLY did he had to put up with the fumbling of the baby dragon, whom he had been "protecting" from his own impatience, but he also had to deal with the... SUBSTITUTE Coaches...

"I honestly can't understand you..." Rarity muttered, shaking her head "I haven't the slightest idea, what's wrong with these coaches."

"That's EXACTLY the point! YOU don't know, but I DO!" Stuck-Up grunted.

At long last, the coaches were coupled up. Rarity finished with the engine, and went back into the cab. Her sister showed up as well - much to her dismay, as somehow, while Rarity was the one who cleaned the engine blocks, she herself remaining clean, Sweetie, who was observing Spike as he fixed the coupling between the diesel and the train, managed to get herself covered in dirt from hoof to head, outside, far from the dirty interior of the engine. Her sister caught her just as she was climbing in.

"SWEETIE BELLE!" she gasped, more out of worry than anger "What happened?!"

"I'm sorry..." she replied sheepishly "I was saying goodbye to Spike, and I sorta... Wasn't watching where I was going, and... I fell into a puddle..." she grimaced, sticking her tongue out "An OILY puddle!"

Without a word, grasping her sister with her magic, Rarity jumped out of the cab, and rushed towards a nearby outside tap, with Sweetie Belle towed in the air behind her.

"What are you doing?" her sister and the engine asked in unison.

"I'm washing that smirch off you!" the mare declared "Who knows WHAT was in that puddle? Don't worry, Sir Alaric, this'll only take a minute!" she called out to the diesel.

"I don't mind, she's better clean than scabby, but we still have to go to Manehattan, EVENTUALLY..." he called back, with sarcasm in his voice.

Rarity skidded to a halt.

Sweetie, provided with no friction but the hold of the magic aura around her, flung forward above her sister's head, before slowly being pulled back, as the magic holding her needed to get closer to it's source - her sister's horn...

"What?" the white mare asked.

"Haven't you been informed?" Stuck-Up asked back, equally surprised "My route runs from Canterlot to Manehattat, back and forth, stopping here, at Trottingham, and a few other places on the way. I start from either Canterlot or Manehattan, and END my journey in either of them, making a full circle in each run. Usually, I have three runs a day, sometimes five, and on Mondays, only two, one at noon, and the other in the evening or around midnight."

He paused for a moment.

"Don't worry, your session only requires you to do ONE turn, though, a COMPLETE one. We'll start from Manehattan, then go to the Capital, and finally, back to Manehattan. You can take another train back to Ponyville from there."

The ponies remained quiet for the longest time...

The express engine just waited.

The pause in the conversation, and in sound entirely, stretched longer and longer...

But JUST when the silence was turning from awkward to worrying...

"I'm going to see... Manehattan... AND Canterlot... In one day?" Rarity asked, her voice meek...

"Well... Don't get yourself flattered!" Stuck-Up replied "We're on business, so you won't have time to go sightseeing! I need you to remain, AT LEAST, in the station. Deserting your engine on duty comes with heavy penalties, you know. Pay cuts, un-preferred work-swap, mandatory overtime work... Besides, you shouldn't make the passengers wait - it'll spoil my... I mean, the Express' image. I haven't been late, not one time, since I arrived to your world, and I intend to keep it that way!"

Rarity didn't seemed to listen. She stared into the air, absentminded. Sweetie Belle, on the other hand, was more down to earth.

"We're going to Manehattan?" she asked with great enthusiasm. The diesel rolled his eyes, his prominent eyebrows waving slightly. The movement also readjusted his monocle.

"Yes." he groaned. At least, ONE of the ponies was still aware they had a job to do.

"YES!" the scream that echoed through the yard woke him from his sulking, as he thought it had an orgasmic tone, and for Sweetie Belle's sake, he quickly glanced around, only to see that Rarity had already scrubbed her little sister clean, and both mare and filly were ready for the journey, sporting wide grins.

The diesel just chuckled.

They made excellent time with the empty coaches, and, passing through Trottingham junction, the express engine noticed something: familiar faces in the small shunting yard close the isolated junction.

He wasn't the only one, though.

"98462 and 84576." he murmured, glancing at the sky blue L.N.E.R. B12 and B17.

"Do you know them?" Rarity asked.

"Sort of. We usually have a fallout with these two every now and then." her replied.

"Are they bad?" Sweetie asked with concern in his voice, as he watched the two tender engines move about in the yard.

"Oh no." Stuck-Up chuckled "We're just... "Frienemeies", so to speak. We have competitions with them sometimes, most of which doesn't ends up pretty friendly, though." his voice drifted off, as he got buried deep in his thoughts, before realizing he isn't alone. "There's no real harm in them. They're venerable steamers, in fact, one of my first friends were from this type of locomotives."

"Oh." Sweetie replied, writing into her notebook "And what about that other engine, waiting at a signal, and the diesels in the shed."

"Other engine? Diesels?" Stuck-Up asked, glancing back at the yard. Indeed, the shed was filled with diesels, the ones he knew very well: Brush, a kind Rail Blue and yellow Class 47, Burdock, a Class 33 in Rail Freight livery. Besides them was Rhodders, a green, cream and yellow colored, spiteful Class 31, Matthias, an elderly, maroon Class 52 with cream windscreen frames, Brock, a scurrilous, olive green Class 40, and Vac, an infantile, yet, clever and experienced Class 31 with Rail Blue and yellow livery and over-window headcode panel, now empty, and serving as a lamp. Outside the shed, two Class 08s parked on the sidings, one in a simple "Shunter Black" livery, with noticeable, arched ladders on the two sides of his front, similar to Diesel, but not as boxy as him, with red traction rods, and uncolored buffers. His face was quite similar to Diesel's, but he looked a bit younger, and more happier than the surly shunter back in the marshaling yard. The other Class 08 beside him was painted rail blue with yellow traction rods and buffer plates, carrying the BR symbol on his cab. But what was much more interesting about this particular engine is that he had his face on the back of his cab, hazard-striped, like the rest of the cab's rear, while instead of the two oblong windows on the sides of the rear, he had a line of five, narrower, but better vision-providing set of windows, packet together tightly.

"Who are they?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"The engines in the shed are number 47666, Brush, number 33102, Burdock, number D701, Rhodders, number D1074, "Western Pathfinder", or Matthias, number D782, Brock, and number 31120, Vac. The shunters are called Mute and Cross. Cross is the one who has his face on his ars... I mean, cab, and Mute is the black one. He's that strong, silent type."

Stuck-Up chuckling at the last part.

"They're all comrades who we can relate and rely on - as much as you can rely on ANYONE on the Other Railway."

The ponies chuckled as well, when Rarity suddenly asked.

"But tell me, darling, WHY are you lot specifically called "The OTHER Railway"?"

"You'll see in time." the diesel replied haughtily "Now, where's that other steam engine?"

He got his answer, as his vision of the yard was blocked by a mixed goods train, made out of older trucks, vans, and two tankers, an aging brake van at the back. And leading the train was...

"No..." Stuck-Up muttered, eyes wide, before his mouth curled into a cheerful grin "Oh, dear Lord, no! I can't believe it!"

"What's wrong, Stuck-Up?" the filly asked "Is he an enemy?"

"Oh, Heavens, no!" the diesel replied "He's a friend! A great friend, in fact!"

Leading the train was bright crimson tender engine, with crimson wheels on both engine and tender, a crimson done, black lining, and a red roof - his smoke box and funnel naturally being black. It was hard to decide what type, what class he was: he looked like a mixture of a Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway Class 27 and a Glasgow and South Western Railway 403 Class "Austrian Goods", with a Fowler tender. He had no name or number painted on, heck, not even a company symbol or monogram. Stuck-Up was so surprised to see this locomotive that he didn't even noticed his signal was red - hadn't been for Rarity, he would've rolled pass it.

"Eagle!" he cried out, stopping beside the engine. 'Eagle' looked up, and smiled.

"Alaric!" he cheered, blowing his three-chime whistle (successfully startling his crew, who weren't used to such antics from machines).

"Do you know him?" Sweetie Belle asked, poking her head out of the cab.

"Of course!" the diesel replied happily, before clearing his throat "Rarity, Sweetie! I'd like you to meet Eagle! He was one of the first steam engines I met when I started working! In fact, I believe, we all know him!"

"We? You mean, the Other Railway?" Rarity asked, mesmerized.

"Indeed. Eagle, this is Rarity Belle and Sweetie Belle. Rarity is my protege for the day, and she brought her sister with her to study rail work."

"Pleasant to meet you!" Eagle replied back in a noticeable Yorkshire accent, a mixture between York, Sheffield and Leeds accents. He came off as general English, though, general Northern English, that is.

After introducing his own driver and fireman, a stallion and a colt, father and son from Trottingham (former farmers put out of business by drought and a parasprite invasion), the two engines got into a lively chat. It turned out that Stuck-Up was not all that clarity, lustrum and pomp he gave himself out. He, like any engine, was once a novice diesel, who happened to be based in Yorkshire, all those years ago, in his early years, while still under the pre-TOPS number, D400. His mentor and earliest friend, beside fellow Class 40s, was Eagle, then painted black with red stripes.

Together, they shared many good memories. Unfortunately, as the number of diesels and electrics increased on the rails, the distance between steam and diesel locomotives grew bigger, arrogance and mere rudeness turning into loath and disdain, both sides being under pressure. Steam engines feared withdrawal, while diesels feared three things at once: being out-dated by newer designs, being put aside for the favor of electrics, and being cast away by preserving societies in favor of steam engines, if either of their first worries came true.

The tension slowly grew to a sort of racial segregation, apartheid, that even grew on the railway workers and enthusiasts.

In some regions, diesel engines were assaulted by steam-supporters. In others, preserved steam engines were vandalized, and withdrawn engines were scrapped sooner for no apparent reason. It took time for the electrics to catch on, but when they did, both steamers and diesels became losers - and woe for the defeated! Each side's worst nightmares came true, as, much like an enormous snow plough, electrification swept them aside, into the filth.

In these dark times, the two engines tried to remain friends, but the tension even got to them. So, on a gloomy day, they departed, each going in separate directions.

"After that, I was bought by a preservation society, as predicted." Eagle murmured "I was originally sent to stay at York, but I got stalled, and in the end, they didn't even wanted me. My fate was to be decided in a few days before I came to this new, pony world. I decided to take matter into my own buffers."

"Good to hear and see." Stuck-Up smiled.

"But what about you? You didn't had your title back then, just your number, and your chosen name." the crimson engine asked. The diesel sighed. Clearly, these were painful memories he was reciting.

"After we've parted, I was based in London, where I got my new number, 40125. I worked there, and around the Thames in particular, before British Rail was privatized." he frowned at the last world, before carrying on "I was bought by the G.N.E.R., where I worked with other members of my class and some Class 37s as freight and auxiliary passenger engines, until..." his voice dropped, his face turning into a deep frown of rancor.

"I think..." he muttered darkly "You may have heard..." his face seemed to grow darker, especially around the eyes.

"I did." Eagle replied, sounding bereft and deferential.

There was a long pause.

Then, Eagle's signal turned green. The engine smiled once again.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, SIRE Alaric." he snickered "I'm looking forward to see you more, and that's very likely, as I and the lads in the yard are an auxiliary set to your marshaling yard, and a back-up for the section. We'll deal with the cross-region and beyond region stuff here." he explained, as he started off. But just before he left, he whistled back "Cheer up, lad! That was all a long time ago! 'Time to look forward', you always said!"

And with a blow of his whistle, he left, the goods train rattling behind him.

Stuck-Up smiled, and soon, his signal turned green as well...

As they trundled down the line, Rarity couldn't help but to ask the diesel:

"So, you once worked as a goods engine?"

The Class 40 chuckled.

"Yes, a lot of times in fact. We all started with goods, then moved onto passengers. I just sticked with the latter."

"But tell me, Sir Alaric..." the mare spoke softly "What has happened to you on the..." she thought back "G.N.E.R.?"

The engine's smile disappeared.

"Can we talk about this another time?" he asked on a solemn, but firmly voice.

He took the ponies' silence as agreement.

They soon arrived to Manehattan, and, as Stuck-Up predicted, there was barely time for the mares to even visit a toilet.

But they were soon off again, the coaches now full... So far, nothing wrong...

But as they rolled out of the station and onto the open line, they heard the clattering of the coaches become more audible.

Tricketty-trock Trickety-trock Trickety-trock!

It was a steady, fast rhythm, simple enough for a foal to remember it. Quite monotonous, too...

"Oh good..." the express engine groaned, as more and more passengers looked out through the windows, wondering about the noise.

"Here we go again..."

Trickety-trock Trickety-trock

Trickety Trock, Trickety Trock, Trickety-trickety Trock!

Trickety Trock, Trickety Trock, Trickety-Trickety Trock!

"Oooh God..." the diesel groaned, as the passengers began to hear a catchy hip-hop instrumental, matching the rhythm of the coaches' chattering, pour out from the speakers, as the coaches went on.

Trickety Trock, Trickety Trock, Trickety-trickety Trock!

Trickety-trickety Trock-trock, Trickety Trock, Trickety Trock!

Trickety Trock, Trickety Trock, Trickety-trickety Trock!

Trickety-trickety Trock-trock, Trickety Trock, Trickety Trock!

Trickety-trickety-trickety-trickety Trock, Trickety Trock Trock!

"See what I meant?" the diesel asked crabbily. The two ponies only stared.

"I see..." Rarity muttered, and cast a glance at her sister. Sweetie Belle was busy bobbing her head gently to the rhythm, smiling happily with her eyes closed.

Rarity chortled.

"They sure seem to have a sense of rhythm." and she joined her sister, but leaving her eyes open.

Again, Stuck-Up just groaned.

They still made an excellent journey, with the passengers having a wonderful time in the rapping coaches. Even the express engine himself enjoyed the journey, including the steady climb to Canterlot up the mountain, across the viaduct between the two mountain sides, slipping into the large passenger station located in a lower level of the city.

No sooner Stuck-Up had passed the city gates, the coaches went solemnly silent. They stopped smoothly next to platform, and passengers soon bustled out from the coaches.

They had to wait for an control car, a Driving Van Trailer, so that Rarity could drive the train from the other end, as there wasn't any place for Stuck-Up to go around the train.

The mare stood outside the engine, gazing around the modern station, while Sweetie Belle was dozing in the cab - they had woke up earlier than usual that morning.

Her sister was still enjoying herself, despite not being allowed outside the station. But as she watched passengers, porters and workponies trot and rush by, she noticed something that made her freeze and her blood boil in the same time.

Her expression was telling, as Stuck-Up noticed her fury, and glanced into the direction she was looking.

A dashing, handsome looking white stallion with a blonde mane and tail, and a compass-star-resembling mark on the top his hind leg, entered the station, the ponies respectfully stepping aside from him, but not bothering to pay much attention to him. This seemed to irritate him, as he had a sense of excellence lingering around him.

At a speed that would've made Rainbow Dash proud, Rarity zoomed back into Stuck-Up's cab, slamming the door shut, waking her sister, and quickly ordering her to be quiet, as she peered through the cab window, hoping that the light reflected from it would provide her cover.

The diesel stared, as the stallion, after trotting around a bit, came up to him with a proud smile on his face.

"'Scuse me!" he called out to him with a haughty voice "Can you tell me where the express going to Manehattan is?"

"You're staring right at it." Stuck-Up replied, sounding none-the-less haughtier himself. The seemed to have caught the stallion off guard, but he resumed his content gaze at the engine, now eyeing him up.

"Oh. So YOU'RE pulling, er, PUSHING the express." he spoke "Well, you certainly ARE a peculiar one."

The engine raised an eyebrow.

"Am I?" he asked on an extravagant tone.

"Well..." the pony went on "I've never seen any machinery like you. And trust me, I've seen enough."

"Have you?" the diesel asked, now curious.

"Yes. Yes indeed." the stallion replied, his voice changing from haughty to sincere and gentle "I am the Royal Industry Inspector." he explained "And I was informed that many, MANY new kind of locomotives have arrived. So, naturally, I set off to do what is my duty."

His voice turned back to normal (arrogant) again.

"Anyways, I may have... Sort of... Expected a... Uh..."

"Steam engine?" the express engine asked, a bit listlessly.

"Yes, that! To pull the train..." the stallion quickly explained.

"Some inspector..." Stuck-Up thought, but introduced himself politely, anyway "Well, pleasant to meet you then, sir. I am number 40125, Sir Alaric English Electric, express engine of the... Former... Barrow Regional Transit, pro-passenger engine of British Rail before that."

"Oh, so you're the one!" the stallion grinned "The... Princess, and Mr. Alexei had mentioned you specifically..."

"Oh, did they?" the engine asked cheerily.

"...Being the most haughtiest, most arrogant and pompous engine in the entire region, if not the whole railway itself. With a venerable knowledge of rules and regulations, and a most versatile experience, of course."

Stuck-Up froze, his face keeping the same expression he had, but now with a constrained tone.

"R-Really?" he asked meekly, before something hit him "WAIT! I understand why you had consulted with Alexei..." he said, the manner he talked about the deity and controller of the railway surprising the stallion more than anything "...But just WHY, pray tell, have you needed to consult with the Princess?"

"Well..." the stallion replied with an indifferent tone "As I AM the Royal Industry Inspector, she had to consult with me even BEFORE I talked to your controller." he explained "She wants me to fully put my nose into my work, less I want my OWN royalty to be taken from me... Again..." he added with a sour, tired voice.

"Royalty? You?" Stuck-Up asked "...Again?"

"Well, I AM the Princess' nephew." the haughty pony explained, sheer arrogance seeping out from him.

The engine, on the other hand, seemed far from being impressed, even the slightest bit. In his stupor of haughtiness, the stallion didn't realized this, even when he asked him again, with a suspicious and edgy voice:

"What IS your name, anyway?"

The stallion chuckled.

"Ohoho. You must be new around here." he smirked "I am, of course, Prince Blueblood."

"Oh, so YOU'RE the one...!!!" the engine snapped, making everyone (including the Prince) stop dead in their tracks, gazing at the pair.

Inside the cab, the two sisters squirmed.

"YOU'RE that pompous bastard who screwed up Rarity's night at that Gala!" the diesel growled furiously "And you come, gallivanting into my sight, like you OWN the bloody world! The NERVE!!!" he snorted "SOME Prince you are, anyway, not having the slightest knowledge about how to treat a lady! Not only that, but you had yourself removed from your royal title FOURTEEN times so far! A Real Royal PAIN IN THE ARSE you are, mate, and nothing more!"

It was only then that Prince Blueblood had recovered from the engine's outburst.

"HOW DARE YOU...!" he yelled "How DARE you berate ME, when YOU, who supposed to be an EXPRESS engine, haven't been on time for TWENTY YEARS FLAT before coming to Equestria! I'd ought to be VERY quiet if I were you! I'll have to write my report to my aunt about your performance, if you DIDN'T guess!"

Stuck-Up was also taken aback, but quickly recovered.

"RRRRGH!" he growled fiercely, engine revving up "Listen up, you stupid, mediocre, pathetic little waste of glue material!"

Many gasped at the grotesque obscenity of the diesel, and the guts he had to say such thing to the haughty Prince.

"AS IF you weren't enough SPINELESS and COWARDLY already, you try to use THAT against me? Well, here's something to freshen your info! I'VE already MET with the Princesses, and I gained their respect soon enough! And from what I learned when meeting with them in person, they're not like the RIDICULOUS royalty stereotype like YOU are! And I HIGHLY doubt that Princess Celestia would sink down to such lowliness as NEPOTISM - 'CAUSE THAT'S EXACTLY YOUR LEVEL, YOU MORONIC, ABSURD RUNT!"

Prince Blueblood looked visibly shaken by these harsh words, having fallen on his flank, and staring towards the engine with fear plastered on his face.

Well, that was what Old Stuck-Up thought, until he saw a shadow cast beside him, on the platform.

Slowly, he glanced towards it's source.

Inside the cab, Rarity's jaw dropped!

There, standing beside them (for quite a while by now), was Princess Luna, looking quite astonished.

Neither engine or stallion said a word.

Rarity and Sweetie Belle sunk beneath the level of the windows, and hugging each other tightly, trying to pull themselves together, attempting to take as little space up as possible.

There was a long, awkward pause...

Then, the Princess spoke up, breaking the silence:

"...Wow..." was all she said.

TO BE CONCLUDED

Episode 4 - Enterprising Mare(s)

ENTERPRISING MARE(S)

PART TWO

The Princess of the Night stared at both locomotive and relate.

Prince Blueblood, the haughty and scandalous member of the Royal family, fourteen times removed, had what was probably the worst quarrel she had ever heard, with the infamously arrogant Other Railway Express diesel engine, Old Stuck-Up.

Simply the language the engine allowed himself to stoop down had disturbed her to no end - but on the other hoof, it was nothing that snooty nephew of her didn't deserved. Finally, she recovered enough to sort things out.

"Blueblood!" she snapped at the prince "I THINK we have agreed that you would actually DO your duty withOUT ANY disturbance, and THIS is exactly what we meant, and told you to avoid, A THOUSAND TIMES! And THIS is how you repay that we accepted you back, AGAIN?!" she took a deep breath "I'll have to have a word with my sister about this, and I can assure you, I'M not going to like it. And for YOUR sake, it'll better be better than what I expect from that conversation. OR ELSE..."

She turned away from the cowering stallion, and glanced at the diesel, now sporting a haughty pout with a frown.

"And you to, Stuck-Up!" she snapped at the engine "From a such a renowned, respectable and KNIGHTED engine, I would of expected better behavior than this... This... Utter act of immaturity and vulgar outburst!"

Even after being caught in the act of telling off a royalty in front of another, more respectable royalty, behaving with such manners he barely saw even from HIS own colleges, the engine still had the balls to talk back.

"Well, you have my full, honest respect, Princess Luna." he replied coldly "But, relate of yours or not, you can't expect me to put up with such... An insufferable... Idiotic... TWAT..." he growled.

The crowd of ponies that had gathered around the scene now gasped. Luna just raised her eyebrows.

"I quite understand." she replied simply "But you'll have to put up with him on your return journey, still."

"WHAT?!" both gasped.

"Don't look so surprised." the Princess went on "Prince Blueblood IS the Royal Industrial Inspector, and his duty is to observe the train on your way back to Manehattan. And, to be honest, it's your driver that I'm more concerned about. Where is he, anyway?" she asked.

"Oh, SHE'S around..." the diesel replied, satisfied to hear the pony in question wince in his cab.

"She?" Blueblood asked.

"What, you thought this wasn't a co-ed railway?" Stuck-Up asked "Don't fool yourself. Even if it wasn't, my driver would definitely be a mare, given that the majority of Equestria is female. And speaking of females, you ought to apologize to the mare you've upset to the Gala."

"How do you even know about that?" the Prince asked with sheer curiosity.

"Not hard to find out about things, when the mare in question..." he replied, giving an effect pause, as he opened he cab door "...Is my driver!"

Tumbling out from the cab with a familiar "WA-HA-HAAHA!", came a bright white pony with purple mane and diamonds for a cutie mark. Prince Blueblood instantly recognized her, and was quite surprised, but said nothing. He just stared, getting back onto his hooves, as the mare did so as well.

They stared at each other for the longest time, both bemused. Finally, Rarity spoke up in a demanding manner.

"Well?"

Blueblood snorted.

"I don't have anything to say."

"PAH!" Stuck-Up retorted, expelling short, sooty plumes of exhaust fumes from his vents on each side, turning his gaze away with a frown.

"Very well then." Rarity replied in the same huffing manner, as she called back into the cab "Come on, Sweetie Belle, we got a train to take!"

There was no reply.

"Sweetie?" Rarity asked, now aghast.

"Over here, sis!" a voice called out. Rarity, Blueblood, AND Luna turned to see that far, far in the distance, at the other end of the platform, a cheerful filly was looking back at them with a smile on her face, her head poking out from the doorway of the control car.

"You brought your sister along?" Luna asked on a warm tone.

"Yes." Rarity sighed "I had agreed to help her with a school assignment."

"Well, we shouldn't keep her waiting!" Blueblood replied with the same sincere voice he talked to Stuck-Up not long before their quarrel. This surprised both mares, as the stallion trotted off at a quick pace, towards the other end of the train.

Rarity cast a glance at the Princess, wondering if she was as surprised as she was. But Luna had a rare, gentle smile on her face. She then turned to Rarity and Old Stuck-Up.

"Even though he's haughty and unlikeably snobbish at times, he actually means well." she explained "You just got to get him in the right mood."

And with that, she flew off - thankfully, this wasn't the roof covered part of the station.

Rarity just stared.

The journey had been uneventful for most of the time. Sweetie Belle felt it clearly that this wasn't the time for her to jabber about, so she remained quiet. Neither Rarity, nor Prince Bluebood talked to the each other, both carrying deadpan expressions...

But somewhere around the middle of the journey, the Prince began to question Rarity about her session. Starting stiffly, the conversation went on and on, and both ponies began to feel very content with themselves. They arrived to Manehattan a quarter hour early, and were greeted by the cheering of the passengers.

"I'll write my reports later." Blueblood spoke to the mare after the cheering crowd had left "And thank you for a most wonderful time."

"It's quite alright." Rarity replied happily. They had warmed to each other nicely on the trip, and now felt like they had been the firmest friends since always. Still, she felt like she needed to say SOMETHING to him:

"And, a word of friendly advise: Don't get too big for your hooves. On this journey, you showed me that you could actually act like a normal pony, what more, one of the most nicest ponies I've ever met. You should stick to that, and drop your snobbery. Life shouldn't revolve around you! Even your aunts move their celestial representations around Equestria, not the other way around!" the mare spoke, then remembered something the express engine said, earlier "Well, at least, not in OUR planetary system!"

The stallion just stared, his mind processing what she said. When he finally got all of it (except for the part with the planetary systems), he chortled, and replied:

"I'm also sorry about the Grand Galloping Gala." the Prince went on "I must have given you a terrible time, but when I heard that you are the Element of Generosity, I couldn't help but to test it." he grinned.

Rarity's eyes went wide.

"Test it? What do you mean?" she asked. The other pony snickered.

"What, you really thought I'm that much of a great big neat-freak wet blanket? I ACTED like a real git, that's for sure, but you DID had your revenge, didn't you?" the stallion chuckled "I'm still picking pie crumbs from my mane. Next time, aim for my muzzle, will you?"

"Your... Behavior... That night... Was only... An act?" the fashionista asked, eyes going blank.

"I don't really like boasting..." Blueblood replied "But what I AM proud of are my acting skills, and my tendency to shake things up, which is why my aunt Celestia haven't offered my rump to the griffon governor down in South Phillydelphia as a prize feast!"

Rarity blinked.

"What?"

"You see my cutie mark?" the Prince asked, turning slightly.

"Yes... It looks like a..." before the mare could finish, the stallion interrupted.

"Yeah, a compass rose, I get that a lot. But get THIS: it's actually a chaos symbol!"

The mare deadpanned.

"Whuuaaat?" she asked, her face dropping slightly.

Prince Blueblood took a deep breath.

"Despite that everybody believes that I'm the impersonation of snobbism and cowardice, I'm not. It's all an act, a scam, so to speak." he looked aside "I never liked being royalty. Sure, it has it's advantages, but the whole ruddy thing, eh, it's just not me. But, since I was unwillingly raised in it, and haven't learned to do proper work, I've decided I'll make myself useful in a different way: I've deliberately turned myself into tabloid material, a living scandal with a personality to boot. This takes the pressure off from my aunts and other relates media-wise, while I get the laugh."

He paused, impressively.

"My cutie mark is actually a chaos symbol, only a sophisticated, streamlined version - and likewise, I'm not Discord himself, aren't I? I just love to 'mix the manure', so to speak. Plus, I provide the necessary inconvenience to the princesses."

"HWAT?" Rarity asked with a consternated voice, making a perfect replica of Trevor's Shocked Face (also known as an O Face).

"I'm the grievance of the royal sisters, pretty much the only one beside the two main parties in the parliament and their schoolcolt cabinets. Without me, they would always have a dilly-dally shilly-shally day, getting accustomed to the nonsense of the parliament, and would go insane with all the luxury and extravagance provided to them."

Rarity closed her mouth. Somehow, somewhere in the back of her mind, this all made sense to her now.

"Well, I'll be off now! See you soon!" the Prince smiled, and trotted off, leaving the dazed and surprised mare where she was.

The two ponies and the engine bid farewell, and parted.

Rarity and Sweetie Belle headed into the city, exploring the grand metropolis, soaking up it's sights and glamour.

Old Stuck-Up, on the other hand, took a more simpler form of leisure: parking into the grand shed of the Manehattan Freight Yard.

Stuck-Up reversed into one of the berths near the middle of the shed, the workmare driving him shutting his engine down, and leaving without saying goodbye - engines like him came and went here.

Soon enough, workponies rushed out, and began cleaning and examining him for any damage.

"Ah, that's better." he thought, and closed his eyes, dozing off while the small equines worked.

By the time he woke up, it was already late in the afternoon, and the sun was not far from setting.

He was alone, the workers have already left, leaving him for his thoughts. Watching the yard, still bustling and full of life as the shunting and switching engines moved about, workmares and workcolts on their duty.

He smiled at the sight. It was good to see a railway so... Alive and thriving.

He was woken from his thoughts by the sounds of another engine. A steam engine, to be precise.

It reversed into the berth right next to his, and stopped with a strong, yet, visibly controlled wheesh of steam. The diesel eyed him up. He appeared to be L.M.S. Patriot Class engine, painted green with red lining. His wheels and cylinders, however, were unpainted, only covered by a cheap grey wax-coat, and soot. Stuck-Up couldn't see it properly, but he thought he saw the old British Railways' crest on his tender. The engine then noticed he was staring at him, and smiled.

"Good afternoon!" he greeted him. The express diesel snorted, but replied politely.

"Good afternoon. Do you have any sort of business here?"

The tender engine frowned.

"Nothing much. Just wanted to relax and get checked over." he replied "Why? Does that bothers you?"

"No, not at all." Stuck-Up replied quickly "I'm here for that reason as well."

"Right." the engine replied shortly "Are you based here as well?"

"No, but I guess you are."

The engine smiled.

"Indeed I am. Or at least will be, after the show."

"Show?" Stuck-Up asked "What show?"

"Haven't you heard?" the engine asked back "There will be a grand steam engine show in a few hours. You see, the... Ponies here in Manehattan prefer steam engines over diesels and electrics, so, they'll reveal their official fleet today!"

The diesel stared.

"You mean, Manehattan Freight Yards doesn't have a fleet right now?" he muttered, thoroughly bemused.

"There is a fleet..." the tender engine replied "See those shunters over there?" he spoke, looking into the yard. Stuck-Up followed his glance, and saw four tank engines, all painted BR Freight Black, working away among the coal trucks.

One was an London and North Eastern Railway (L.N.E.R.) J72 Class, number 69029 - he was busy shunting a long line of empty trucks towards a chute - you could really find EVERYTHING in this yard!

Another seemed to look like a J83 with red traction rods, filling up at a water tower.

The third one was clearly an M.R. 1F, thoughtfully moving some trucks through a set of points, wearing round glasses.

The fourth one appeared to be a L.S.W.R. G6, and looked quite cross, as it was stuck between two long lines of trucks, moving slowly down a longer siding. It's number, probably due to the confusing nature of it's original creator's, the London and South Western Railway's numbering scheme, and British Railways' confusion, was 30xxx. All wore the old BR crest.

Stuck-Up rolled his eyes.

"Pueh. Common shunters." he muttered. The engine frowned.

"What? To low for your taste, lad? What are you, a knight or something?"

The diesel beamed with pride in return.

"As a matter of fact, I am!" he replied "I'm Sir Alaric..." and he stopped here.

"Sir Alaric what?" the engine asked inquired, amused by the awkward look on the diesel's face. In return, Stuck-Up muttered something barely comprehensible.

"Excuse, can you repeat that?" the engine asked again.

"English Electric..." Stuck-Up uttered. Then, after a short pause, he added with a bit of regained pride "I'm Sir Alaric English Electric."

"...So, it's a bought knighthood, eh?" the tender engine sneered.

"Oh, what's it to you?!" the express engine snapped, before continuing haughtily "What does bulky sewer pipe full of hot air know about knighthood, royalty, and class, anyway?"

"Quite a lot." the engine replied shortly, then continuing with a stern voice "I actually worked through most of my life through the decades when those things actually mattered."

"So you did." Stuck-Up growled "What's your name anyway?"

"Euston." the tone of the steam engine was suddenly cheerful again.

"Euston?" the diesel mused "After Euston station?"

"Yes." the tender engine replied, surprised "How did you know?"

Stuck-Up rolled his eyes again.

"You're a Patriot Class engine, so you obviously worked on the L.M.S. before the Nationalization..."

"Cursed thing..." the engine muttered under his breath.

"WHY?! You prefer Privatization, then?!" the diesel yelled angrily, startling him.

"Heavens above, no!" the engine replied quickly.

"Right. So, you probably worked on the L.M.S. before British Railways. And when I was working in London, I heard old workmen talk about the L.M.S. all the time. It wasn't TOO hard to figure out, really."

"Well done then, Sir Al!" the tender engine smiled.

"Don't tease me, Euston." Stuck-Up smirked arrogantly "You don't wanna set me in the wrong mood..."

"Why?" Euston asked innocently, but before Stuck-Up could reply, they were interrupted by two shrill whistles, and the sound of steam engines. Two green tender engines, an L.M.S. 2P, and a G.W.R. 2251 Class, no names or numbers, reversed into the berths next to Euston. They both appeared to be female, wearing the old BR crest, and in a heated argument.

'No, I thought I made it clear: we're NOT being preserved! We're ACTUALLY being put back in full service! We're ACTUALLY going to be the part of the railway, not some excursion rides for small children!' the 2P spoke indignantly, her long eyelashes fluttering as she blinked, showing off the Clockwork Orange-style make-up on her right eye.

"Foals, Clarisse, foals! We're not on Earth anymore! These equines have generously put time and effort into getting us back in ship-shape, so, at LEAST, you can learn their dialect!" the G.W.R. engine retorted eyes half closed, revealing her pitch dark eye shadows.

"I might as well do that, Mirabell." her argument partner replied "But still, I CAN'T see why you swallow your dignity for such petty reasons! We're NOT being preserved, we're ACTUALLY back in service!"

"Clarisse, Mirabell!" the Patriot engine berated them "We have a visitor, if you haven't noticed, so why don't you two ACTUALLY quit arguing for a moment, and greet him!"

This seem to have caught the two engine's attention, as they looked towards them, surprised.

"Oh, Euston!" said Clarisse "Sorry, didn't see you there!"

"Yes, what a pleasant surprise." Mirabell added, swooning. The big engine blushed slightly, while Stuck-Up chuckled.

"Nice to meet you, ladies." he called out to them "I'm..."

"Hey, aren't you Old Stuck-Up, from the 'Other Railway'?" Mirabell asked, interrupting him. Slowly, Euston turned his gaze towards him, now looking quite smug, before he gave a hearty laugh. The diesel deadpanned.

"Yes. YES, I AM." he growled, sounding quite threatening, making the other three exchange concerned looks. Just then, yet another steam engine's whistle sounded out, and yet ANOTHER tender engine reversed into the sheds, this time, into a berth one siding away from Stuck-Up's other side. This one was a bit odd:

It was a BR Standard Class 9F locomotive, with a black tender (a simplified, white silhouette version of the old crest on it), and a green body (including his smoke deflectors, while his smoke box was black) and wheels, no name or number displayed. He stopped quietly, and glanced at the others. He had dark shadows around his eyes, and completely straight eyebrows, now in a frown. The two female engines glanced at each others nervously, and reversed slightly. Euston, on the other hand, smiled kindly, and spoke to the newcomer.

"Hello, Murcof! You're home early."

The other engine smiled, wickedly.

"I am." he stated, speaking in a low, murky voice "So, who's the new guy? I've seen him around before... "

"Oh, I'd like you to meet Sir Alaric. Or Old Stuck-Up, as I heard..." Euston smirked.

"Charmed to meet you, Murcof." Stuck-Up spoke up.

"Likewise." Murcof steamed back "So, what are you doing here?"

"Just taking a rest." the diesel replied calmly "I've been pulling the Midday Express, the, uh, Canterlot-Manehattan one."

"The, uh, Canterlot-Manehattan one, hmmm?" Murcof replied, before chortling, which sounded like cracking ice.

The two female engines were visibly uneasy with the 9F being there, slowly reversing more and more into the sheds.

"Well, I better take a rest, now..." the big engine snickered coolishly, reversing into the shadows of his berth.

With a relieved sight, the two green engines resurfaced.

"Feeewww..." Mirabell exhaled.

"Thank God." Clarissa added.

"What's with them?" Stuck-Up whispered to the Patriot engine.

"They're terrified of Murcof. Many engines are." Euston explained "But he's not bad, just a darkly sort who prefers notoriety over friends."

"No kidding about that..." the diesel muttered, before he was interrupted by a booming whistle, as YET ANOTHER tender engine, this time, a bright red L.M.S. Jubilee Class with golden lining, reversing into the berth between his and Murcof's. He stopped, glanced around grumpily, huffed, and retreated into the shadows of the shed as well.

"What-Who was that?" Stuck-Up asked, thoroughly puzzled.

"That's Conrad" Clarisse explained "Named after Conrad II, the Emperor of the Holly Roman Empire."

"Sad fact is, he's a rampant atheist..." Mirabell chuckled.

"...And, he's quite xenophobic, yard-wise, at least." Clarisse added.

"Well, he definitely does more work than you two!" a female voice called out.

Reversing into the berth beside the two green engines was a non-streamlined L.M.S. Coronation Class locomotive, painted maroon with golden and black lining, with a black smoke box and wheels, and no smoke deflectors, name or number, but, again, wearing the crest on her tender. It stopped proudly beside the two chatterbox tender engines.

"Good afternoon, Beatrice!" Euston called out to her.

"'Afternoon, Euston." she replied kindly, before noticing the diesel "And who are you?" she asked, curiously.

"He's Old Stuck-Up." Mirabell replied instead of him "From the 'Other Railway'!"

"But he calls himself Sir Alaric!" Clarissa added.

"I THINK I could have said those ALL BY MYSELF, thank you!" Stuck-Up growled angrily. Clarisse and Mirabell just smiled at him innocently, which annoyed the diesel to no end. Harrumphing, he turned to the latest arrival.

"And you are?" he asked in a polite tone.

"Beatrice." she replied softly "I'm sorry about the girls. They have a tendency to be... Chatty..."

The two green tender engines just giggled, and, after a respectful glance at the Coronation Class engine, they reversed into the sheds as well, picking up their argument where they stopped.

"I see what you mean..." Stuck-Up chuckled "So, are you one of the Duchesses?"

"Oh, no!" Beatrice replied "I'm a rebuilt engine, I was never labelled. The preservation group that put me together couldn't find anyone to sell me though, and I thought I was going to be used as a donor engine in the end..." she shivered here "But in the end, I managed to escape here, into this new world... Of ponies... I also managed to drag these to along." she smirked, glancing at the sidings were the two green engines stood.

"They seem to have some respect towards you, perhaps because of this?" Stuck-Up pondered.

"Perhaps..." the maroon engine smiled, before she noticed something "What's this?"

The other two followed her look, and saw it:

Four engines, all banged up and dirty, being slowly shunted by a sky blue G.W.R. 5600, into one of the work sheds near by. One was black, reechy, weather-worn Great Eastern Railway (G.E.R.) Class Y14 - or L.N.E.R. Class J15, as the latter company's monogram was written on the side of his tender in yellow. He looked very tired, as he was shunted tender first in the front of the row. The two engines after him were in a far worse state: both was dark brown with rust and dirt, and were clearly saved from right under the cutter's torch - one was a badly dented G.W.R. 2251 Class, it's original tender probably already cut up, as right behind him was a brand new, unpainted tender. The other was a London and North Western Railway 1185 Class tank engine, with the back of it's cab and the trailing wheels cut off, secured to the previous one's front coupling via rope. The last one appeared to be a mix between an L.M.S. 8P and a L.M.S. Royal Scot class, specifically, a high-pressure steam design, painted L.M.S. green with red lining, but with long scratches and dents going along his side. He looked very sore.

Finally, after a bit of struggle, the tank engine shunted them into the work shed, and then rolled off towards a nearby water tower for a refill.

"Hey, Andrew!" Euston called out to him.

"Yeah?" he asked back. He wasn't facing them, but he probably recognized the big engine's voice.

"Who were those engines?"

"Refugees from Barry. They have been harbored for years, but recently, they had been rescued by a bunch of fleeing Type 2s, who were also refugees, but they came from Vic Berry's. They're going to be added to the yard's basis fleet, and get this: The old timer in the front wishes to be painted in wartime black, with N.E. on his tender!"

The two steam engines sighed, but Stuck-Up was lost in his thoughts. Type 2's rescuing scrapyard refugees? 'Course, they've also been through that Hell, as they managed to get out from Vic Berry's, but...

He shuddered, remembering the stack of Class 25 carcasses he saw there, piled up sky high. The thought sent the grimace across his face, but he swiftly used it to readjust his monocle.

His eye-glass was also something noteworthy, by the way.

Back on the Other Railway, there were several faulty features about their workplace, one major one being the presence of chavs. Members of the British underclass/"new working class" caused a great deal of trouble to the engines. But one night, Stuck-Up saw a... Different side of these delinquents...

One certain night, due to some calculating tricks and set-ups by his colleges, he found himself locked out of the shed, and ended up parking in an unused goods siding. His rest, however, didn't last long. Around 11 p.m., he found his engine running, with he himself running down the line.

As he was sleeping, a group of local chavs broke into the yard, and, after lurking around a bit, smashing in windows, tagging walls and setting fire to rubbish trucks, they found the express engine, snoozing noisily on the rusty tracks. Turns out, one of them came from a family of railway workers, and had a knack for engines.

So, Old Stuck-Up was hijacked, and in his terror, he didn't shout for help. Part of him was also curious about where he was going.

The chavs took him to an unknown location.

As his eyes got adjusted to the darkness, he found out he was near an unfinished motorway - another mess up a la Torys.

The group was going to have a race with another team, but all of their vehicles had been either wrecked, or towed away. But, since the rails run along the road for on a long length, they decided they'll use a train instead.

The other team only jeered as they set to work - Stuck-Up himself was surprised by their speed and precision.

His windows received a shade.

His other end was crowned with a spoiler.

A new turbocharger, made for both speed and heavy load oriented motors, found it's way into his engine block.

And a new paintjob appeared on him, graffiti-esque, maybe, but surprisingly matching for an elegant express engine - he wasn't quite sure how the lads pulled it off, but as he stared into the water in the canal turned drainage ditch beside the tracks, he couldn't help himself but to feel comfortable in his new paintjob - it matched his personality, or at least a wilder part of him.

He received chassis light, glowing in an azure color, and halogen bulbs for his lamps. He found the former quite ridiculous, but the new bulbs enabled him to see far more further than his normal lights.

The chavs also wanted to connect a NOS tank to his cab, but he refused.

"Leave it to me!" he spoke, now in the spirit of the event, and confident with the plan he had made up.

Finally, it was time for the race.

The other team's car, an pimped out Pontiac Trans-Am, was stopped beside the rails where the tuned engine parked.

In a flash, the Pontiac's engine revved up. In the same time, Stuck-Up's motor roared to life, louder than anytime before, the turbocharger sweeping his exhausts and filters clean, making thick smoke bellow from his pipes, marking his gray roof. His lamps flickered on, and the group, now inside his cabs, put in a heavy metal CD.

In all sense of the word, the engine was ready.

The car revved louder and louder, wheels dragging on the concrete of the unfinished motorway, as the engine licked his lips, readying himself for the task.

And they were off!

Quickly, the car got ahead of them, but it wasn't long before Stuck-Up caught up to the other team, and, with a blow from his horn, elegantly passed by, part of the group flipping the bird at the other team from his rear cab.

That was when their rivals turned to nitro on.

They zoomed pass, leaving a green flame-trail behind, disappearing for a brief moment. The group was upset, but the diesel was still confident.

"Be patient and wait for my signal. We'll have those jokers where we want them in matter of minutes!"

He wasn't wrong.

The other group had went so fast and so far, that their NOX had ran out completely. However, they had arrived to a bend, and couldn't see the Class 40 catching up to them, so they slowed down, and cruised on the cracked, half-done road, smoking C-grade cannabis and drinking cheap liquor, steadily making them drift into a peaceful, yet strong stupor.

They didn't noticed the diesel catching up to them, his lamps and chassis lightning off, and his turbocharger silenced, following the car like a large shadow cast by nothing and no-one. But as his oval buffers came next to the rear bumper of the car, he called out to his temporal drivers.

"NOW! Blow the horn!"

The next second, Stuck-Up's booming, deep secondary air-horn blasted into the air, making even his 'own' group jump.

The blare woke up the other dream from their substance-inducted torpor abruptly, the driver loosing control over the vehicle.

Stuck-Up's eyes went wide, as he saw the Trans-Am tail slide left and right on the road. This miscalculation of possibilities didn't seemed to be heading to an adequate ending, let alone a happy one.

"SLAM ON THE BRAKES!" he yelled. Equally scared, the chavs did so, making him come to a full stop, just as the Pontiac broke through the crash barrier right in front of him, flying across two railway tracks' worth of width, ending up nose first in the boggy drainage ditch beside them.

Initially, the express engine wanted to make sure their rivals were alright - or alive, the very least.

But the chavs wanted to hear nothing of it.

He was put in reverse, and raced all the way back to the very siding he parked early that night. Or was it last night? According to the clock, it was 3 a.m. - he had been away for five hours!

Hurrying, the chavs removed the spoiler, and the chassis lighting, but left the rest - paintwork, window shades, halogen bulbs, and the turbocharger of course. They were about to leave, when the police showed up. Apparently, a late night fitter working overtime had saw Stuck-Up leave the yards, lamps off and without any symbol of permission - no code, no assignment mentioned to the workmen earlier.

It took time for the police to arrive, as there had been numerous accidents and crimes in the city that day - ram raids, mostly. All a cover for the train-thief group to do their business with the rival scallies from the industrial side of town.

Stuck-Up was turned off, and suggested the group to hide in his engine room.

The police did came, and inspected his cab, but found nothing - the badly lit yard made his new paintwork seem like mere graffiti. When they wanted inspect further, he told them off, having a knowledge in bureaucracy and regulations, even of those beyond the rails. Not to mention his hectic and arrogant behavior annoyed the pigs to no end, so they left.

And no sooner they did, the chavs made their way home as well - they wanted to tank the express diesel, but he was fast asleep, exhausted from the night's events.

For a good two weeks, Stuck-Up made Sir Wyatt Fronts very happy - his new turbocharger made him a much faster engine, and he actually arrived on time with his express! The halogen bulbs enabled him to do night runs with ease, even on the most shady parts of the line, as vandals thought him to be part of the police, and scurried away. Also, his new paintwork caught the attention of many, and the Thin Git's smile couldn't have been broader, when donations and extra money arrived from the council, to support a "modern, innovative railway". The snooty engine just swaggered on.

But two weeks after his race, he became a victim:

While taking slow goods to a neighboring electric railway, he passed under an overpass, well in electric territory. Suddenly, an unknown and unnoticed figure flung a long, uninsulated wire over the catenary. It hanged as low as the sleepers, and there was no way the engine could stop in time.

He hit the wire, exposing himself to thousands of volts of electricity. It quickly shorted his engine out, leaving his driver stuck in his cab, as he had turned into a Faraday-cage.

It took time to rescue them, turning off that section of the wiring, and pulling him away, while an electric engine took his train.

His driver was alright, but his motor's electric system had been burned out, his light bulbs blown up by the surge, and he himself feeling clapped out, with two vertical burn marks on his face.

Spamcan pulled him back home, the usually gruff and sardonic goods engine staying respectfully silent.

Bowler took his express while he was mended. This meant that his new paintjob was washed off and replaced with a temporary red one - that was the only paint the workmen had, as their load coming from the industrial district was mysteriously delayed.

But this time, Sir Fronts didn't take seconds thoughts about spending the money he received on the engine rather than on his own delight. After all, he owe to Stuck-Up for two weeks of great success.

In the final day of his hiatus, Stuck-Up was operational again, and still had his turbocharger. He was also equipped with an additional generator to power his coaches, new pneumatic brakes (his old ones being defunct for a long time, meaning he had to use friction-brakes), halogen bulbs again, and naturally, a new motor with a cutting edge electrical system. His window shades had also been taken off, but he didn't mind - he knew it very well that it was dangerous for an engine to have such vision-decreasing complements, swagger or not.

His burn marks had completely healed, and he was practically ready. He even gotten used to his new, crimson paint with a dark gray roof - his face remained yellow.

But on that day's afternoon, he had visitors.

A few from the group of chavs have turned up, checking if he was alright. They explained that the sabotage was the revenge of the other team from the industrial district.

Thanks to Old Stuck-Up, they not only lost the race, but their best car as well.

And as a gift for that stunt, and the accident had head suffered through, they presented him with what appeared to be monocle, made out of a spoke-less bicycle wheel, with ebony framing, and a large, black chain. With a help of a few workmen, they secured the chain to the grid on the side of Stuck-Up's front, and placed the eye-glass on.

He did suffered a minor eye damage to his left eye in the accident - nothing serious, though -, so he was pleasantly surprised when he found out the monocle did improved his eyesight.

"We nicked the glass from an observatory." one of the chavs grinned.

Stuck-Up was most pleased, and grateful, grateful enough to put in a good word for the lads, who soon found themselves honorary members of the Barrow Regional Transit, which, financially speaking, lifted them from their chavhood.

The monocle remained on him since, becoming a part of him, his image, his persona...

But if you would of looked closely, you'd see that, although barely noticeable, the ebony frame of the monocle had Burberry check prints on them.

"Sir Alaric?"

The diesel looked up.

Rarity and Sweetie Belle were trotting towards him across the tracks.

"Rarity? What are you doing here?" he asked "Shouldn't you two be home by now?"

"I fear not." Rarity replied "Your midnight run was cancelled due to a serious connection delay from Phillydelphia. I heard it when we came back to get on a train back to Ponyville. I had agreed to drive you home."

"Oh. Well, that's a pleasant surprise!" the diesel smiled, and opened his cab door.

As the mare and the filly climbed in, there was a booming whistle. The next second, Conrad shot out from the siding beside Stuck-Up.

"Out of my way!" he shouted, and raced off. Rarity and Sweetie could barely make it into the cab.

"Feckless jokel!" the express engine shouted.

"He nearly hit us!" the filly exclaimed from inside his cab.

"Hmph! I shall contact Yard Control at once!" Rarity declared, climbing into the seat.

They rolled off, and after a refill, they set out home - but only went as far as the first signal gantry, WITHIN the yard.

A workcolt came up to them.

"There are two engines that have been based in Trottingham Junction, but haven't been there before. Can you take them with you?"

"Of course!" Rarity replied grandly.

"As long as they go by their own power!" Stuck-Up added.

"Alright!" the stallion chuckled "They're waiting at the first signal box outside the yards!"

The two engines were indeed at the first signal mount, resting in a siding. One was a green L.N.E.R. D16, numbered 8783, with a golden numberplate on his splasher, reading "Phoenix". The other one was a BR Class 127 double-unit diesel railcar, painted Rail Blue with full yellow fronts. He didn't had a name, or number displayed, but a headcode on the panel above his cab - 10751.

He was the first to speak, as Stuck-Up stopped beside the two.

"Are you 40125?" he asked sincerely.

"Indeed I am. But my name is Sir Alaric!" Stuck-Up replied haughtily.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." the railcar replied, now speaking quieter, with even more respect "I'm... 10751. Just 10751. And his name is Phoenix." he added, glancing at the tender engine in front of them.

"Good afternoon!" Phoenix greeted them cheerily "Can you escort us to Trottingham Junction?"

"Certainly!" Rarity replied "Just follow us!"

And they did.

The trip back to Ponyville was longer, as they were now just three cruising engines, not a train of any importance. They had to stop and wait at many signals, and by the time they reached Trottingham, it was well in the evening. Phoenix and 10751 said their goodbyes, and departed to the sheds, where the other engines have been waiting for them. Yeah, they actually were!

The Class 40 and his crew then trundled on, and soon arrived to Ponyville station.

They stopped beside platform 4 for a breather, enjoying the cool air. Rarity and Sweetie Belle had already left his cab, and were now standing beside him, leaning at his side.

"Well... It was a busy day today." Stuck-Up spoke up, summing up his thoughts.

"Indeed." Rarity replied, before turning to her sister "Do you have enough material for your report?"

"I think so." Sweetie replied "Although..."

"Hang on!" the diesel interrupted them "What's going on over there?"

Platform 2 was crowded by ponies. Anxious ponies.

Beside the platform stood Pip & Emma's train, all doors open.

The engine and the two ponies exchanged glances.

"You two should go there, and find out what's going on." Stuck-Up declared.

"Right." the two replied in unison, and left for Platform 2.

Doctor Whooves was there, trying to calm the passengers.

"What's the matter?" Rarity asked, walking up to him.

"The train's stalled!" the Doctor explained in a hurry "Pip's engine overheated, and the weight was too much for Emma. She can still be restarted, but she won't be able to push the train on her own."

"Then get another engine!" Rarity advised. The Doctor rolled his eyes in an annoyed manner.

"That's what I'm been trying to do in the past twenty minutes! Thank Celestia they were AHEAD of schedule!"

Rarity thought for a moment.

"Why don't we use Sir Alaric?" she asked. The stallion spun around.

"Who?!"

"Errrm... Old Stuck-Up?" the mare tried.

"Oh! 40125, you mean?" the Time Lord/Yard Manager/Station Master asked back "We could, but... There's no way he could pull, OR push this train!" he went on, pointing a hoof at Pip's streamlined front.

"Hmmm... Well, yes. That's inconvenient..." the mare muttered.

Sweetie Belle, who had been sitting with a pondering face since about a time, suddenly jumped, eyes sparkling!

"I got it!" she exclaimed, successfully making everpony look at her.

"You got... What?" the Doctor asked.

"I know how to get Stuck-Up to pull this train. But he won't be pulling it... OR pushing it!"

The Doctor and the fashionista just stared, utterly confused. The passengers exchanged puzzled looks.

"...Sweetie Belle!" her sister asked "Whatever do you mean?"

"It's simple!" the filly replied "If Stuck-Up can't PULL or PUSH the train, he should do both! From the middle!"

"WHAT?!" everyone asked.

"It's something I saw back in Manehattan." the ivory filly explained "A steam engine was moving some coal trucks, pushing one line from behind, while pulling another which was coupled behind it. Emma could still move, right? If we separate the train in the middle, and put Old Stuck-Up in there, he and Emma will surely be able to take it to wherever it's destination is! He IS an express engine, after all!"

Stuck-Up had heard all, and while he only groaned (and swore) when thinking of the extra job, he smiled inwardly.

"Clever filly."

The train was soon arranged.

Philippa, now unable to move on her own, had agreed (quite obviously) to keep a look out for signals and such. Emma was started again, her engine already cooled out over the time they waited there, and was ready to go. Stuck-Up...

Claimed he was BORN ready.

"I'm BUILT ready!" he replied contently to the Doctor from between to coaches. All the passengers have climbed back into the coaches. Emma and Stuck-Up's engine revved up. The guard blew his whistle, and, with engines roaring up, the train began to move.

"Ouuh!" the Class 40 groaned uncomfortably, feeling the strain on both of his couplings. Slowly but surely, they left the station, and rolled out onto the open line, where they began to pick up speed.

They passed through junctions, signals and unscheduled stations - ponies and engines alike, cheering as they ran pass.

Every time they approached another station where they had to stop, Pip blew her horn, and both Stuck-Up and Emma braked hard to stop the train, high-speed once again. Finally, they left the last station behind, and headed for Canterlot.

"How late are we?" the express engine asked.

"About five minutes, but we still made good time, after being stalled like that!" Pip replied.

"Five minutes..." Rarity pondered "Do you think we can make it there on time, Alaric?"

"I don't think so..." Stuck-Up replied.

"Aw, c'mon, Sir Al!" Sweetie encouraged him "You're an express engine! You haven't been late, not even a second, since you arrived!"

"Oh yeah? I haven't been on time for twenty five years flat before I arrived to Equestria!"

"...That's the past! You can do this, Stuck-Up!"

"You know what? You're right! I CAN do this! And I WILL! Let's go!" and he charged on, going faster and faster. Emma soon found the train getting lighter. Then, she suddenly found herself being pulled by it!

Rarity was keeping an eye on the speedometer.

134 miles per hour.

136

138

140

"We're over 140 miles per hour!" she cried out, trying to shout over the roar of the motor behind them.

"What?" Stuck-Up asked back, unable to hear her through the noise of his own engine.

142

144

146

147

145

143

"We're losing speed!" Sweetie Belle yelled "Come on, Sir Alaric, you can do this!"

That, somehow, reached through the din, along with a barely audible whisper from Rarity.

"You can do it, Stuck-Up!"

His engine growled with renewed energy. Both ponies' eyes were plastered on the speedometer.

145

146

147

148

"That's the fastest any diesel had ever went!" Sweetie gasped.

147

148

147

146

147

148

149

"OH MY GOSH!" Sweetie shout, turning to her sister "Sis! Stuck-Up did it! He's the fastest diesel on the world!"

Rarity didn't reply.

"Sis?"

"...He's... Still doing it."

150

153

156

159

163

167

171

176

181

187

193

"TWO HUNDRED!" Rarity screamed "WE'RE GOING FASTER THAN TWO HUNDRED MILES PER HOUR!"

...But her voice was drowned in the thunderous roar of the diesel's motor.

At the gates of Canterlot, the train, still running (rocketing) steadily at the speed of 200 miles per hour, began to slow down, albeit very gently to lessen to impact of the momentum on the passengers. But this deceleration wasn't the work of the drivers - Emma's driver was still a state of shock, Pip's had passed out, and Rarity and Sweetie Belle were in a sort of trance, eyes fixated on the speedometer.

Not one, not two, but THREE force fields caught the impromptu bullet train as it crossed the gates. One, glowing bright white, put the passengers at ease, calming their nerves, and temporarily "switching off" gravity on their bodies, so as to save them from the inevitable thrust of the stopping train. Another, ethereal dark blue, grabbed hold of the train itself, gently but firmly bringing it to a halt. The third one, a two-tone gray, reached into the machinery itself, turning off the overrun engines, cooling hot axleboxes, and steadily increasing the pressure on the air brakes.

The signalmares and colts were still given a hard time, letting the rapid train through the yards without any accidents. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Pip finally stopped, inches from the buffers.

Opening one eye, she glanced around. Opening both, she looked up. On the platform stood Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Alexei, the foreign, stick-figure-like God, all partially in railway officer attires: Red, dark blue and gray peaked caps with a slightly altered BR double arrows symbol on, blue coats displaying name and position, and, well, that just about sums it up.

It took exactly one second for the High-Speed Diesel to comprehend the sight. Then...

"WOOOOOOTHATWASTOTALLYAWESOMEWEHADBROKENTHESPEEDRECORDOFOUROWNKINDCANWEDOITAGAIN?!" she jabbered euphorically, still on an adrenalin high.

The three deities exchanged looks.

"No. It's too terrifying of a stunt to repeat!" Celestia spoke sternly "We're glad all of you are still in one piece."

"Thanks to us!" Luna added crossly "How did you even managed to go that fast?! You're type, as far as I know, can only go as fast as 148 miles per hour!"

"Wasn't me!" Pip replied, now a bit ashamed "My engine's out! You should ask Emma or Stuck-Up."

"We'd like to speak to your driver first!" Alexei spoke up. Pip looked a bit embarrassed.

"Then you better get some smelling salt."

"Oh."

Emma was still in a state of shock when the three gods teleported to her.

"Never... Again..." she muttered to herself "Never. Fucking. Again!"

It was almost comical to see the usually cutesy-poo engine so ruddy serious, if it wouldn't been equal amounts disturbing as well.

Her driver, woke from his own shock, explained that Emma's engine had been turned off after the train started to TOW her rather than being PUSHED by her.

Which draw the deities to a surprising conclusion:

"If it wasn't Pip..."

"Or Emma..."

"Then... It could only be..."

And they ran towards the center of the train.

Number 40125, Sir Alaric English Electric, or Old Stuck-Up, as his delinquent colleges happened to call him, did his best. Truly.

After all, he was working as a middle engine, bound to go slow, even with another engine pushing the train from behind, and, express engine or not, he had his limits. But now, he had pushed his limits beyond expectations.

As he heaved and panted loudly, oily sweat running down his yellow, metallic face. His monocle popped of from his eye, leaving a round mark around it, after being pushed into his "flesh" by the emulation. His mind still hazy from the loss of oxygen, all he could do was make tired attempts at fixating his breath.

Rarity and Sweetie Belle slowly woke from their unconsciousness. While their eyes were transfixed on the meters before their eyes, in a trance after they passed the magic 200, it was evident that they wouldn't notice the magically conjured force fields, and would end up being knocked back by it, with the momentum then swiftly knocking them back forth, head-butting the control panel. The deceleration successfully plastered their foreheads onto the plastic, but thankfully, with a bit of unicorn trickery, they were able to get off...

Opening the cab door, they tumbled out into the crowd surrounding the engine. And instantly, the gathering of ponies burst into cheers, congratulating them on their fine work. From a five minute delay, they made excellent time, and actually arrived TEN minutes early! Sure, it was a rad ride, but it was worth it! They had broken every rail speed record in Equestria!

They've also broken the record of the fastest diesel engine(s)'s on planet Earth, but that was beside the point - as the ponies didn't knew about that at all.

Laying flat on their stomach, to tired to even respond.

"Sis..." Sweetie Belle whispered "I'm going to say something which I'll probably NEVER going to say again..."

"Yes?"

"I wanna go to bed..."

The crowd suddenly went quiet. Too tired to stay fully conscious, the mare and the filly closed their eyes. Before Sweetie did so, she saw three figures walking through the crow, which separated to give them space - lots of it, actually.

They were woken by Stuck-Up's gasp.

"Y-Your Majesties!"

Instantly, the two ponies shot right up, standing once again, with a little stagger. The two princesses, and the Flat Controller looked down at them... Smiling?

"Princess Celestia! Princess Luna!" the ivory filly exclaimed "And... Mr. Alexei, right?"

"Indeed." the lanky figure replied kindly "Where here to congratulate you."

"Congratulate us?" the diesel asked "But why? We've probably broken every speed and safety regulation ever to be made in railway his..."

"Never mind that!" Princess Luna smiled "You might have done that, but it was for making up for lost time!" she began to smirk "And you did exactly that, in fact, you did it so well, you arrived early! AND you've broken more than one speed record!"

"I've received Prince Blueblood's overlook on your machinist qualities." Celestia added, whipping out clipboard with a few pages on it "Good to know he's ACTUALLY doing his job." she mumbled to herself, as she read the pages.

"He praised you to no end." Luna explained to Rarity "And called 40125, quote, 'a most valuable, important asset of the railway, truly remarkable and strong, both mechanism and mentality-wise'."

The diesel gave a tired, but prideful smile. Rarity and Sweetie joined in, as Celestia finally looked up.

"All right, all set." she declared, "handing" the clipboard to Alexei "I think it is needless to say that your trial as express train engineer was ultimately successful! Rarity Belle, as Princess and Chairmare of Equestrian Rail, I'm pleased, and after such awe-inspiring stunt, honored to announce that you're now officially the honorable member of the railway. Mind though, your position here is high in class, first class that is, as you're specifically an express driver." she finished.

Rarity was speechless. She just smiled broadly, a happy tear escaping her eye. Her little sister also beamed proudly.

"And!" the Princess of the Night, now railway inspector of some sort continued "I'd also like to announce, that diesel locomotive number 40125, Sir Alaric English Electric is now "your" engine. He may be driven by others, but you are his official driver."

"AND!" Alexei added "Sir Alaric, more commonly known as Old Stuck-Up... I'm most pleased to announce that on your journey from Ponyville station to here, Canterlot Central, you have managed to accelerate to the point where you went faster than two hundred miles per hour for a good five minutes of your trip, specifically, two hundred and FIVE miles per hour, thus setting a new record for all diesel engines in Equestria - possibly even the world! For that..."

He stopped, and pulled out a grand, blue and golden ribbon from an inner pocket of his coat, and placed in the side of the engine by a magnet on the back. Inside it was pin with a bright red Number 1 on a BR symbol on it.

"It... *huff* It was n-nothing... *huff* Sire..." the diesel smiled.

There was a loud CLANK!

And Old Stuck-Up came crashing down onto the rails, cursing out loud in pain, ending up sitting in an awkward position... On his chassis...

After the cacophony died down, the younger princess called out.

"What has happened, Stuck-Up?"

The engine looked away sheepishly, embarrassment printed all over his face.

"Weeell..." he muttered awkwardly "My wheels MAY or MAY NOT have popped off my axles..."

The Princesses, the foreign deity, and the two pony sisters stared at him, bemused, as the workponies rushed over to check for any damage.

Celestia just shook her head, and turned back to the unicorns.

"Sweetie Belle." she spoke gently "Step forward!"

The filly proceeded.

"Thanks to your ingenuity, this train could arrive on time, what's more, you've made a contribution in breaking the record of the fastest diesel engines in the world!"

"Now, you're not old enough to join the railway..." the Flat Controller explained "But, for all of your contribution, we'd like to give you, and your sister two tokens of our gratitude. One..." and he handed her a bright red peaked cap, similar to the his, but with horizontally stretched BR logo on it. Smiling ever-so-proudly, Sweetie Belle placed it on. It was too big for the filly's head, but her horn kept it from covering her eyes.

"And two." the figure went on "If your parents will check their bank accounts, anytime soon, they'll be in for a surprise: ONE BILLIARD BITS added to each of their accounts. You know, a little something to buy candy and material with.

It was that moment that Rarity's jaw hit the ground.

"WHUAT?!" she gasped.

"Come on, now!" Luna soothed her "Don't worry, we're not taking the taxpayers' money to you. It's actually Alexei paying from his own pockets!"

"But... How could you afford it?" Sweetie asked. The deity just shrugged his shoulder.

"Hey, I'm a god. What do you think, where do all the engines across the country and the provinces get their daily load of coal, water, oil, and alcohol. These things, especially coal and alcohol, cost fortunes in Equestria, especially in the amount we require it!" he went on "And also, most of Equestria's soil is completely devoid of petroleum. I have to conjure it up along with the other three! So what's a few bits if I already hold up a bloody economy?" he chuckled.

Rarity was speechless.

"But why so much, still?" she finally blurted out after a few minutes of awkward silence. The god smiled.

"I don't know if YOU noticed, but you also made YOUR contribution in making the train arrive safely, aside from being Stuck-Up's driver. When you lot passed through our force field, we felt an enormous magical force surrounding the entire train, like an aura. That aura held the train together along the journey. Without it, the acceleration would of torn the couplings apart, and there would been a terrible accident." he explained "This aura was YOURS. You kept it alive all along, assuring the safety of everyone on board, which is not only noble, but damn impressive as well! That's why I'm giving you lot such amount of money."

The royal sisters exchanged looks.

"Anyways..." Celestia spoke up "I think there's something you'll have to write, Sweetie Belle."

"A Friendship report?" the filly asked.

"Not exactly." the solar princess replied "But a report, anyway... That's why you've spent your day with your sister, now didn't you?"

Sweetie Belle was awed.

"Princess Celestia! Do you know everything?!"

The alicorns chuckled.

"Less than what you imagine..." Luna replied "So... A report, is it?"

"Can't be worse than the Beeching report!" the diesel barked in from the side.

Again, Celestia and Luna just exchanged puzzled looks, while Alexei chuckled.

"But... How am I going to write it? It's already late, and I've done nothing! I just took notes."

"That's quite enough" Celestia smiled "'Cause I'm going to get you the help of Equestria's BEST homework writer!"

And on cue, Twilight Sparkle appeared.

"Anypony called?"

"And presenting us her report today is... Sweetie Belle!"

With a lump in her throat, the filly rose from her desk, and walked out, in front of the class, to the center of the blackboard, as Miss Cheerilee gave her space... Fiddling a bit with her notes, she cast a quick peek at her peers. Her friends, Apple Bloom, Scootaloo and Twist were, of course, rooting for her. Even Snips and Snails, the class' dim jokers were cheering quietly for her. As predicted, Diamond Tiara just yawned and turned her gaze away from her, casting a knowing glance at Silver Spoon. The gray filly, on the other hand, was, at LEAST, staring towards her direction, eyes blank of course. Given the fact that she WAS from an actual noble family (unlike her friend, who's father 'just' came from a family line of very successful entrepreneurs), she was given a much better education in etiquette and manners from her parents. As common with nobility originating from the North-western part of Equestria, her family had a thing for discipline. This has eased over the generations, but still, Silver Spoon knew HOW to act in public.

"Yesteryear, I made a report on my sister, Rarity, who, as you might know, Ponyville's only fashion designer, owner of Carouse Boutique, and one of the most famous fashionistas in Equestria."

The class emitted a groan.

"Mediocre laborer at best." Diamond Tiara muttered to her friend "Good sense in fashion, though..."

"Shush!" whispered Silver Spoon. Her friend's rude comments had gotten them into trouble a couple of times by now, and she was NOT willing to risk her grades for another of Diamond's retorts. Not again.

"This time, I wrote about my sister, Rarity, again..."

A more audible groan ascended from the class.

"BUT!" Sweetie went on "This time, from a completely different perspective, altogether!"

THIS caught everyone's attention.

Sweetie Belle was famous (infamous, even notorious) for her lexical knowledge. But not her lexical SKILLS. It was rare from her to actually use the difficult words she could detail. So, naturally, this made everybody interested.

Wondering, waiting, and skeptic looks mixed in the crowd.

With a deep breath, her report truly began...

"As you might know, recently, Equestria's biggest transporting system, the railway, had grown larger than it was, and received new trains. These, however, not any trains. They've came from another world, and, if any of you visited Ponyville Railway station recently, you would notice they aren't exactly "lifeless objects". In fact, they're quite alive, and intelligent. These living machines came from a world, which, as I found out, is much more crueler and darker than ours. Thus, they are a bit embittered and grouchy at times, but all the same, they work hard with no fuss..." Sweetie continued "Now, allow me to tell you about my sister, Rarity, now a honorable member of Equestrian Rail, and not just simple workmare, too: She's the selected driver of the Canterlot Express!"

Everyone gasped.

"WHAT?!" the two snobbish fillies gaped.

"Wow!" Scootaloo cheered "That's amazing! Wait..." her eyes went wide.

"What's the matter, Scootaloo?" Cheerilee asked.

"Yesterday night, the midnight express was cancelled." the orange filly explained "Instead, a commuter train was brought to Canterlot by the local express engine, after the two engines pulling it broke down, overheated or something. Now, that very train broke the speed record of Equestria's fastest train ever!"

"I know." the alabaster filly replied calmly "My sister was driving that train. And I was with her..."

She smirked. Everyone was paying attention now. With a proud smirk, she went on...

"Well, this certainly... Lifted the veil from a few things..." Alexei muttered.

"What do you mean?" Prince Blueblood asked, putting his railwaypony coat onto the hanger.

"The little feat that Rarity and Old Stuck-Up had put up last night revealed a few things to me..." the humanoid spoke thoughtfully "Promising in a short distance, but in longer terms... I'm not sure... It remains uncertain to me..."

"Promising? How so?" Princess Luna asked, breaking her gaze away from the bustling capital beneath them.

The foreign god didn't reply...

"Alexei?" Celestia asked "Alex?"

"Alex?" the stickly figure asked back with a smirk "Are we that much aquinted now... Celly?"

The elder princess deadpanned, before bursting out into a short, hearty laugh...

"Hey! That name's for FAMILY. MEMBERS. ONLY!" Luna snapped, more annoyed than angry.

"Is that so... Lulu?" the deity smirked smugly, flinching the alicorn mare's nose. Blueblood was most amused...

"The nerve...!" she chuckled, shaking his head, before receiving a great big noggie from the immortal controller of the railway.

"A, shut up, Blue!"

When everybody stopped laughing, the Princess of the night asked again.

"So, what are those positive sights that you've seen?"

The god replied with a thoughtful look.

"The sheer displays of power..." he explained "As all of you probably now, the spell Rarity Belle has cast onto the train, even if it was a mere gravitational pull and stabilizing spell, would needed the strength and stamina of an alicorn to accomplish. Of course, an alicorn, as far as I know, could handle such basic spells with ease, but it still takes that amount of strength to even conjure it. And, if what Twilight wrote to you is true, Rarity is actually the LESS powerful unicorn of the Elements of Harmony." he went on "On the other hand, while Stuck-Up IS an express engine, there's simply NO way that he could of brought that train up to that speed, especially on his own!"

"So what your saying is that Rarity also sped him up?" the Prince asked, amazed.

"I think it's more mutual." came the reply "We have told you about the Elements of Hatred and Defiance, haven't we?"

"Aaaah, yeah, yes, Aunt Celestia did." Blueblood replied "There are seven on both sides, plus two additional ones that don't belong to either sides, and pairs from the two sides can form a third row of devastating new elements."

"However..." the deity spoke to him "I forgot to mention that the Dark and Light ones also COMPLETE each other, keeping balance, and the Dim ones locked up tight, so they may not cause any harm. Together, they can make each other stronger, as they balance each other, dynamically revolving around one another, giving immense power to their possessors." he came to a conclusion "What we had witnessed yesterday was clearly a display of that effect being in action, both Rarity and Stuck-Up went completely beyond the limits their physical bodies possess. This means that they're one of the contrast pairs...

"Wait, do you know of any other pairs?" Celestia asked. Alexei didn't reply at first. He was thinking...

"I have... Assumptions... Rarity and Stuck-Up being one of the pairs was one of my ideas. And I'm quite surprised to see them to be the first one to show up."

"Anyways..." Blueblood spoke up" We have this case to look into. An engine named Conrad, or Carlos, or something, causing trouble in Manehattan's Freight Yard.

"Carlos?" Alexei asked back, before smirking, as familiar lyrics floated into his mind...

"Is he Gay or European, Gay or European, that's the elephant in the room..."

The others just stared at him...

Episode 5 - WOOLLYBURR

WOOLLYBURR

"Wheew! That was doozy!" the pink pony exclaimed as she stopped jittering "The writer must have made a reference to not one, but two different things!"

The others looked at her with awe.

"You alright, Pinkie?" Rainbow asked, looking up from her breakfast. It was very early in the morning, and the mares had gathered in the workponies' buffet, enjoying a meal together, before each of them went on with their daily routine. Nearly every weekend now, usually on Saturday, the Mane Six joined the rest of the workponies.

The Mane Six, and Spike, were asked directly by Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Alexei, the foreign God of Defiance who had came along the engines (now controller of the railway, Equestrian Rail), to visit the local yard and sign up for work, weekly if possible. One by one, the mares and the dragon tried out railwaymareship, and found it - especially since they only had to do it once a week - delightfully easy, but also satisfyingly challenging the same time.

Cloud Kicker and Flitter, the drivers of the High-Speed Twins, Pip & Emma, had also joined them for some nourishment, along with Rainbow Dash... But she only came for the food... The pegasus was yet to sign up for rail work - she always found weather work to be done (or excuses), to avoid the princess' request - she could, after all, they weren't ordered to join the rails, but unbeknownst to her, her friends found this 'post-ponying' increasingly annoying. However, at the moment, they were more concerned about Pinkie than Rainbow's behavior.

Their friend had just experienced a full-body twitch, a sign of her Pinkie Sense, a predicting power she somehow possessed. She knew the outcome of a few certain twitches, but a full-body jitter could have multiple outcomes, usually described by her as a "doozy" - usually one HELL of a doozy.

"Don't worry, girls! It's nothing serious." Pinkie explained. The others gave a relieved sigh, and returned to their meal.

"Although, we may have a visitor." the mare suddenly added.

"WHAT?!" the others gasped.

The Doctor walked in.

"Oh." they sighed, relieved that the doozy burned out in this...

Or so they thought...

After the doctor had informed them about the days assignments - and, once again, encouraged Rainbow to actually JOIN in, which she, once again, refused, excusing herself with work (despite the clear sky) - the ponies set out to do their jobs.

"Good morning, Pinkie!" the fluorescent green tank engine greeted her. He had six small wheels, a short, stumpy funnel, a short, stumpy boiler, and short, stumpy ****, err, I mean, dome and whistle.

"Good morning, Steamie!" the pink pony replied cheerfully "Ready to work this morning?"

"Of course I am!" the tank engine replied "Ready as I'll ever be!"

So Pinkie stepped inside the cab. She lit Steamie's fire, which, completely unnaturally, AND going against the nature of water and physics (thought, not that of HiT Entertainment's), instantly boiled the the water in Steamie's boiler, creating steam.

Pinkie opened the throttle, released the brakes, and set the reverser forward. Hissing, the Hunslet Austerity tank rolled forward, out of the sheds, onto the turntable, from which he left to the yard.

The yard was filled many different kinds of rolling stock - coaches, vans, flatbeds, tankers, hoppers, gondolas, and normal goods trucks as well, all waiting to be arranged - all in a good days work. With Diesel being in charge of the larger, northern side of the yard, dealing with mixed freight and passenger wagons, and 'Arry & Bert in charge of the heavy industrial freight in the area, the little engine was left responsible with the lightweight goods on the southern sidings.

He now rolled into the yard, eyeing up the trucks... His job for the day mainly consisted of shunting, but in the late afternoon, he would have to assist a new diesel, and possibly a new driver along with it. Said diesel was scheduled to arrive at noon. He had until that to arrange the trucks. Quickly, the two friends started working. They begun with the coal trucks, as that load was the easiest to arrange - one long line. The trucks themselves, arrived from three different mines - one near by, close to the mountains, brought for every station within their section of the railway, one big load of high-quality coal from Stalliongrad which needed to be transferred to Phillydelphia, and a third load of special coal ordered from Eagleland for testing. The special coal was Manehattan Central, which was on one end of their section of the line, so the truck containing the Eagleland coal had to be shunted on either side of the line of trucks which's load was for the local stations, as either them, or a shunting engine at Manehattan could have taken the truck "out" of the train, after the trucks from Stalliongrad had been disconnected at the Canterlot province-Phillydeplhia borders.

"Morning, Pinkie Pie! Morning, Steamie!"

"Good morning, Thunder Lane!" they greeted the black furred pegasus. He had also signed up for the program, and was selected as one of the shunters in the yard. This made him cross, as he wished to be a driver. But, nevertheless, he did his job earnestly. Most of the time.

"You forgot your safety helmet again!" Steamie warned him, as he handed the clipboard containing the data pages about the trucks. Pinkie read them with the utmost care, attention and precaution - she was willing to prove her responsibility.

Meanwhile, Steamie kept looking around the yard. A novice engine he may have been, but he was also well trained for shunting by then.

What Steamie noticed now that the trucks for the local coal run weren't connected together properly, and their brakes were off. Also, at the middle of the siding, there was a switch that led to a shorter one where the special coal was at - and the tank engine couldn't see whether the switch was set to that siding or not, nor could he see just what was at the end of that short track. The Stalliongradian coal was already arranged into a tidy row, all trucks connected together, brakes firmly on. The only problem was that they were on the wrong siding. Steamie was about to ask Thunder Lane about the conditions of the local coal trucks, when he heard his driver speak up.

"Aaall-right! All set! Thank you, Thunder Lane! We'll begin with the coal that goes to Phillydelphia!"

"OK. Move them to the long siding, then get the local run arranged. You can't reach the special load unless the you take those trucks off that line."

"Understood!" Pinkie replied, saluting. Climbing back into Steamie, she put an extra lump of coal into his firebox, and reversing from the siding, they went for the row of trucks. Thunder Lane and the other shunter workponies were already releasing the brakes, and by the time Steamie rolled up behind the line, all brakes were released, but the trucks were still connected to the buffer stop. A shunter quickly fastened the coupling between the tank engine and the trucks, while another uncoupled the line from the buffers.

This part of the yard was not as well equipped as the other side. Thus, the shunters could only use one, white or yellow colored flag per person, and one, uncolored lamp. They had to learn the motion signals: Waving the flag up and down meant "Go!". Waving it in a broad, circular motion meant "Stop!" (waving it in this motion furiously meant "OMG yer gonna crash! STOP FOR F*CK SAKE!"), and waving it in a horizontal, shooing movement meant "Reverse!". Holding it diagonally for a moment between to motioning waves meant "Slowly!".

Pinkie peaked out from the cab.

'Go! Slowly!' was the signal.

Now, what you must know is that Stalliongrad Oblast has a wider gauge, a broad gauge track system set up all around the country, with narrow gauge lines barely narrower than the Equestrian Standard. Thus, engines and rolling stock alike are far more bigger - especially the new ones that came from the human world (because, unlike the rest of Equestria, where the railways' and railroads' original, equine-made machinery had been withdrawn, they still used them, at least the engines, in Stalliongrad). But every and each had adjustable axles, so they can roll on foreign rail (the Standard gauge, at least). The trucks that came from the northern province were considerably larger than that of the Other Railway's trucks. They were still two-axle, wooden trucks, but with inner steel rib reinforcement and a much heavier chassis. Also, they were fully loaded with the rich, pure, Anthracite-quality coal that came from up North - heavy calories. Thankfully, they were much more disciplined and obedient than the trucks around the yard, but Steamie still found them hard to move.

"Do come along! Do come along!" he wheeshed, his wheels spinning feverishly on the rails, metal grinding to metal, as he feebly tried to move the heavy trucks.

"We would, try harder! We would, try harder!" the trucks creaked back encouragingly. Slowly, they inched forward.

"You're doing it! You're doing it!" they clanked. The train began to pick up pace. They soon reached the spot where the rails were sanded, and with that newfound traction, the little engine could go on with less struggling.

After shunting the heavy train onto the siding, they went for the local coal trucks...

Now, Pinkie also noticed they weren't connected to each other, but she figured they first needed to be shunted into a row.
She failed to notice the switch in the middle of the siding, left clear between two trucks.

Thunder Lane, too, had failed to do something (aside from showing up on Hurricane Day): he failed to warn her that she mustn't "fly shunt" the trucks.

Fly shunt meant that instead of coupling up to them, the engine merely pushed, or what's more, biffed the trucks together. Now, usually, mineral loads such as coal didn't needed that much care, but this case, it was different. The points in the middle of the siding had jammed, so the first part of the train would inevitably roll onto the line where the special coal was. Neither engine or driver/firemare had been informed about the malfunction, or about the prohibition. Stopping on the end of the siding, Steamie let off a bit of steam. He had forgotten about the peculiar condition of the trucks, and was eager to biff them around a bit. He never biffed them hard enough to hurt them (mainly because he was quite a wimp), but he annoyed the trucks, nevertheless... They were, however, terrified about Steamie's singing, fabled to be so horrible that it drove a line of trucks so desperate that they smashed their own selves into pieces. On the contrary, in kept them in line (no pun intended), and beside it, there was Pinkie's singing. The pink pony could find the tone with just about anyone when it came to singing, and the trucks were no different. After Steamie shared a few lyrics he heard from the other engines that the trucks seemed to enjoy (their own mockery tunes), the young mare quickly found a way to get the mischievous wagons do as she wished.

Cheerfully, Steamie blew his whistle, as Pinkie made him shot forward, bumping the first truck.

It ran forward, bumping into the second, stopping... But the second rolled on. It hit the third truck with much more momentum, also stopping, even rolling back a bit, but the third truck rattled on, bashing into the fourth, which in turn, sped down the line... There was more distance between the fourth and the fifth truck than between all the others. The fourth truck hit the fifth with an almighty crash, nearly derailing it. It literally shot backwards after the collision, but stopped quite soon...
Unlike the fifth truck.

Because that was the last truck before the switch. Going incredibly fast, it raced down the tracks, nearly falling on it's side when hitting the points and veering into the short siding. It smashed into the truck containing the special coal so hard, that chunks of their loads flew out, got mixed, or simply poured onto the embankment... This time, the truck didn't stop. It went so fast that it actually pushed the other along, it's brakes have been knocked loose by the impact. Skidding down the short siding, they thundered towards the hurst piled up at the end of the siding as an emergency stop, two pre-stressed concrete sleepers crossed on the rails a few meters before them. The first truck hit the sleepers, successfully crushing them and derailing it's first axle, while the second merely pushed the rubble out of the way...

The two fleeing trucks hid the sandbank with a loud thud, the first one flying up, demolishing the lump's top, and falling down on the other side, now without it's wheels, and parts of it's chassis, landing with a crash, it's front side smashing into smithereens, it's content being hurled out of it, scattering in the concrete covered yard beyond the bank. The second truck hit the first, it's sides breaking into splinters as it's frame bent in, coal flying everywhere, as it fell to it's side from the bank, whatever coal that had miraculously remained in it was now laid out on the ground, mixing with the special coal.

Back at the end of the siding, in the crossfire of the mortified gazes of the remaining trucks, the small steam engine felt like sinking into the ground, as a puddle of melting iron. Pinkie didn't looked much happier, either, trying to make herself look smaller than she actually was, looking very worried indeed.

From the other side of the yards, Diesel had seen the entire accident, and only snorted:
"Hah! Serves you right for being careless! AND that idiot shunter, Thunder Lane!"
And with that, he rumbled off, Twilight scolding him along the way.

As the wreckage was being cleaned up, Dr. Whooves sternly ordered the pink mare to arrange what remained of the train, and after doing so, they stopped on the siding next to the train. A very annoyed looking Doctor walked up to them.

The engine squirmed, and Pinkie felt more guilty (and afraid) than ever. Doctor Whooves eyed them up crossly, before closing his eyes, and letting out a sigh.

Although the accident wasn't your fault in overall, you still should have waited for the shunters to ensure everything was right! - he said sternly, making both perpetrator wince. The Doctor was kind, gentlecoltly stallion, quite pacific most of the time, but if it came work, or messing with time (or, combining the two, messing with timetables), he would become very fierce, which often scared the workponies - but not the engines (aside from Steamie).

"However..." the Doctor went on darkly "Thunder Lane was in charge of the shunting team here, and his laggard work ethics had already given me quite a lot of headache. I'd fire him, to be frank..." the brown earth pony muttered "But he isn't a full time employee, just a spare worker. So, he'll have to deal with the overtime work to pay up for the damage. In the next few months..."

The mare cringed. She REALLY didn't wanted to be in the pegasus' horseshoes right now.

"As for you!" the Doctor went on, making them jump a bit "You two shall collect an extra load of coal for the local run. The special coal can wait for another time. Take a shortcut using the Apple side track. - and with that, he trotted off, muttering about paperwork and human faultiness within equines..."

When they returned from the mines, a bit scruffy, but fine otherwise, they found their side of the yard already arranged. Carefully, Steamie shunted the truck to the end of the train, then stopped beside the water tower for a nice, long drink. HiT-physics or not, he was still just a tank engine.

As his tank filled up, Pinkie looked around for anything interesting. Her eyes soon caught something, and for a moment, the smile disappeared from her face.

There, at the passenger station, on the very end of Platform 3 was Gilda the griffon, talking to Dr. Whooves, the two clearly in some sort of discussion. The Doctor seemed to be trying to convince her about something, and Gilda, though looking increasingly annoyed, seemed to be accepting, eventually smiling as well.

"Is that... Gilda?" Steamie asked, bemused. Pinkie, without giving a second thought about the engine's knowledge about Rainbow Dash's former friend, gleefully bounced around.

"That's so awesome! Now I can throw a "Gilda's Back!" party! Oh, oh, and maaaybeee she'll make it up with Rainbow Dash! Then we could throw a "Friends Again!" party as well! This'll be sooo great, I..."

"Errr... Pinkie?" Steamie spoke up, his Londonian accent suddenly shining out "Ya sure that Gilda, out of all persons, would like a party thrown by you?"

Pinkie stopped in front of him, smiling broadly.

"'Course she would! Everybody likes parties! Especially a Pinkie Pie Party!" she added, a bit smugly. Steamie didn't looked convinced.

"But why would you throw a party for her? She was... Quite a party pooper last time..."

Now, for the first time that day, Pinkie took a good look on her mechanical friend. Then smiled knowingly.

"Ah. Poor Steamie, you spend too much time with those oily, smoggy, grouchy diesels!"

"Pinkie Pie!" the tank engine snapped "That's VERY racist!"

The mare was taken aback.

"S-Sorry!" she peeped, thoroughly ashamed. Her smile returned then "Anyways, their grumpiness is growing on you! Why WOULDN'T I throw a party for her? Everyone deserves a second chance, AND a party, above all!"

"But are you sure she'll like it? Or even come after being invited, for that matter?" the tank engine went on, now sounding more mature than before - I mean, last time, she got the wrong impression about you, and stormed off, loosing Rainbow Dash as a friend. Why would she even WANT to come to your party, after such events? Besides, your FRIENDS like your parties. And not even every one of them. She's not even your friend!

Now, it was Pinkie who sat down, pondering...

"I think..." Steamie added "Even if she did came back to make up with Rainbow Dash, she still... Pretty much wishes you'd be in Hell... So if I were you, I'd avoid her."

"Why?" the mare asked, naively...

"Well... I don't know her enough to judge her character, nor do I have the right to do it, but I think..." the engine muttered "If she would see you, she'd give you a beating."

Again, the mare was taken aback.

"N-Naaah..." she muttered, uncertainly "She wouldn't do THAT... Would she?"

"Trust me, I'm talking from experience..." the tank engine replied. "She's a griffon. Sharp claws, sharp beak, carnivorous... I'd won't try with her."

At that moment, the above named looked towards them. Instantly, Pinkie zapped behind Steamie, who became the subject of the griffon's gaze. He held it up, staring back at her with a nonchalant look. Finally, Gilda turned away, and walked off with the Doctor towards the northern sidings.

"Wait a minute!" the engine exclaimed "She has some business here!" he stared after the avian and the pony "I wonder what she's up to."

"Yeah! What business does she has here?!" Pinkie snapped. She didn't sounded like herself: she was irritated and suspicious. Walking up beside Steamie, she glowered after the avian, and from the look of her eyes, the poor engine knew he had broken her.

"Oh dear..." he muttered, as the mare stepped back inside his cab...

"Now, Miss, errr, Gilda..." the Time Lord/Yard manager spoke "You may not be aware of it, but you're in favorable positions here..."

"Really? That would be a first..." the griffon gal replied. Although she had only met him a few minutes before, she already began to like the Doctor. The pony's subtle, gentle demeanor a strive to keep his face as authority was quite amusing, and, unlike many ponies, he didn't seemed to hold any prejudice against her, for who she was.

Last time she was here, she surely managed to establish a bad rep. Now, either these ponies were very forgiving (which, in retrospect of the things she had done, didn't seemed very likely), or it was just this one pony, who wasn't there in either cases when she acted out.

Following him to the train yard, she couldn't help but to feel a certain animosity... Yeah, the freight cars and passenger wagons were alive, big deal, the same thing was happening all over Equestria, Eagleland, and whatnot. They eyed her up with deep suspicion... This "Doctor" bloke had told her to take no notice - they have never seen a griffon before, and they were very territorial and protectionist. Still, she couldn't help but to slightly lower her head as they walked between the long lines of rolling stock - after all, even the smallest truck was roughly ten to twelve times her size.

Trying to ignore them, she instead listened to the good Doctor.

"So, what job did you had in mind?" he now asked.

Oh, yes. Job.

You still gotta pay the taxes, even if you DON'T have anywhere to live. A sad fact about the Equestrian tax system - called the Regal Due. Boo-hoo.

Anyways, at the moment, any job looked promising.

"Well, this is a railway, right? The most obvious would be..."

None which needs much social interaction with ponies.

"...Being a driver."

"An engineer, you mean?" the Doctor asked.

"Yeah. That." the avian replied tiredly.

"And what engine did you considered?" the stallion asked back.

What?

"What do you have?"

"Steam and diesel, mainly. This part of the region will not be electrified in the foreseeable future."

"So, no electric engines?"

"Essentially, no."

"That leaves me with the other two. Steam, and, uuhhh..."

"Diesel."

"Right. Steam engines need a driver AND a firemare... Or firestud... Or whatever... Right?"

"Well, we have a tank engine who's driver and firemare is the same person, but..."

"So they do. I'll take a diesel then."

"The diesel." the stallion replied "We only have one without a permanent driver. He arrived earlier today, a hour or so before you did. Anyways, he's at the far end of the yard, being looked over. We'll have to be sure that the locomotives pass the national standard, to ensure that Quarantine Season doesn't arrive earlier."

The griffon looked puzzled.

"Quarantine... Season?"

The Doctor chuckled knowingly.

"If you're going to work here, get used to the extra seasons in your calendar."

"Great..." she muttered sarcastically.

"Anyway, where here!" the Doctor replied cheerfully.

"Where?"

"At your engine!" the stallion replied.

"I don't see any engines..." Gilda replied, quite puzzled. Then, she noticed something odd...

Among the coaches, on a distant, empty siding it stood. Only two single doors at each side, no windows, but railings, a giant BR symbol in white in the middle, with an odd number of wheels... Rail Blue, with yellow fronts and red buffer plates, and a dirty gray roof. It had the shape of a coach, then again, it clearly wasn't...

The griffon approached it sinuously. It had a lopsided wheel set, something which she noticed early on: two pairs on one side, three on the other. It sat there, quietly... As she went to the side, she noticed his face. it was on the lower half of his front, beneath three windows, arched at the top like his body, but not at the bottom. An oblong outline was in the middle of his face, between his narrow eyes, ending at his chin - like the frame of a door, with a metal plate professionally welded over it - his nose and the middle of his mouth was on it, though at that part, the rectangular outline was barely noticeable, thanks to his face.

Narrow eyes and long, stretched sickle-shaped eyebrows (now in a sullen frown), a sharp nose and a slit-thin mouth.

He noticed her, pitch dark eyes blinking - it seemed to be a common feature among the living machinery, what common, all of them where the same: irises and pupils seemingly fused, both completely black, eyes reflecting the light like glass balls. As the Doctor caught up to her, they both went closer to the machine. All the way, HE kept following their movement with his eyes, still locked in a morose frown. On a closer look, the... Locomotive, so it seemed, was a bit dusty, and his paint had been knocked off, here and there, with rust appearing in drop-sized spot, as if water had splashed up onto him - barely noticeable without a thorough overlook. Unusual features were the rectangle-shaped buffers, worn and chipped of their paint, the remaining - once black - now had a blueish tint, as if oil had splattered over it. His coupling was noticeably bulky, specifically made for extra-heavy loads. Upon closer inspection, the mechanical features were also visible: railings, bulks, a Nixie Tube headcode display at the bottom of the center front window, and, of course, the two classic, round, clear-glass headlamps, set above his eyes, with the mercury-vapor light bulbs visible inside them. Beneath his mouth, just above his buffer plate were two smaller, nub-like dark lamps, red tinted - the tail-lamps, she presumed.

"What do ya want?" he barked with a Liverpudlian accent, more gruff than angry.

"He's the only engine available now, all other locomotives under my watch are either taken, or have too busy schedules." the Doctor explained to the griffon.

"Oh, right, the training program" the diesel muttered.

"OK." the avian replied, after having a suspicious staring contest with the engine "What shall I do?"

"Here's your first workorder for the day. D5720 will fill you in about the controls and regulations." the stallion explained, hooving over a paper sheet. He then trotted back to the station building, leaving the griffon with the diesel.

There was a long silence.

Gilda and the engine stared at each other with mild bewilderment. Then, the engine sighed.

"Well, if we'll have to work together, it's best we know each other's names..." he grumbled "I'm CoBo."

"CoBo?" Gilda was puzzled.

"After my wheel arrangement." the diesel explained "Co stands for six wheels, Bo for four. What's your name, anyway?"

"Gilda." the griffon replied shortly.

Another long pause.

"Well... We got work to do." the engine groaned "Get inside. You'll learn the controls, and then, we'll get onto the jobs."

Instead of climbing into his cab, the avian just shot a cold, slantwise glance at him.

"And who put YOU in charge?" she grouched "I'M your driver."

"Oh?" CoBo asked back, raising his eyebrows "I thought you'd listen to common sense."

"Common sense?!" the griffon retorted "You just started to boss me around!"

"Because I'm your trainer!" the engine replied in a soothing, yet irritated matter-of-factually way "Of course, if you think you can learn how to drive a Metrovick diesel, then by all means...!"

"A what-now?"

"A Metropolitan Vickers' Diesel-Electric Type 2." he replied in a lecturing manner, with the slightest tone of pride in his voice "Classified number twenty-eight by British Rail. Me."

"Oh." Gilda replied, a bit baffled.

"You see?" CoBo continued, his voice reverting into it's original, morose tone. "You need experience. I'm here to provide that. But, we also got a job to do, so we oughta' get on the point."

Hesitating, Gilda took another glance at the engine. He wasn't old, but he had seen better days. Or, in fact, haven't. He just worked, no bother, no waiting. And, reluctantly, she had to admit that he was right. She had gotten herself into the situation she was by NOT thinking and not listening to advice, OR common sense - thinking is fine, all she needs is a bit of self-control, and not jumping straight to action, nor did she lacked common sense. But a good advice were hard to find these days.

And now, it was all offered to her on nearly a silver plate - all she had to do is listen, pay attention, a keep a good look out - she knew the value of these things, but rarely practiced them.

And there was he - an experienced, dutiful person, straight to the point, yet, not at one bit uptight, but rather... Ennui. Now where did that word even came from?

She was snapped out from her unusually twisty thoughts by an impatient CoBo.

"Ya lost in the doldrums or somethin'? Get a move on!" he growled.

Once inside his cab, she was welcomed by a pleasant feeling of authority, as she glanced out through the windscreens, nearly three meters above the ground.

She then noticed something.

"These aren't your windows, are they?"

"Ah, yeah." the diesel muttered "Long story short, I had an accident, and when I was repaired, they no longer had the parts for repairing my class, so, they used the windscreen frames of a Class 71".

"Oh."

"You've no idea about what I said."

"Nope."

CoBo sighed wearily. This is going to be a long day...

The controls were fairly easy to learn, and the smooth movement of the engine made the session even more easier - yet, there was a certain zest in the diesel's motion, whenever they started, as if there was a great power in his engine (claimed to be "two-stroke", or something), that he kept under control most of the time.

She payed no heed to his explanation about the regulations - they can only go back and forth on two pieces of metal, supported by wooden planks or pressured concrete slabs, and can tow or push a few unpowered boxes on metal wheels - not much of a chance to crash, other than running into another train. He's the engine, the one with the experience, and the one who's face is actually outside, giving him a better sight on the world - he can look out for both of them. And signals are fairly to understand, anyway.

After a bit of shunting, arranging their first train, they set out to do the job. Aside from the times he explained something, usually very nonchalantly, they didn't really spoke with each other.

Rumbling down the line (his engine growling fiercely), with a train of tankers in tow, she began to feel ill at ease. So far, no mistakes.

So far...

She had to get her mind off about it! And there was only one option...

"...Tell me more about this class of yours..." the griffons spoke up.

CoBo sighed.

"Well... My class is number 28, a short-lived class built by the Metropolitan-Vickers, a heavy industry electrical engineering company. The Class 28s were one of their designs, but were proven to be... Unsuccessful. Only two other members of my class have been preserved, one still in action. The rest have been withdrawn from service and scrapped."

"Scrapped?" Gilda asked, perplexed.

"Cut up into tiny little pieces of metal, which are melted down to make use of their material. Killed and butchered, basically. But, we are, but machines, so who cares?"

The avian was silent. She didn't liked the sound of this. The diesel went on, now sounding aggravated.

"In fact, we were deemed as the LEAST successful class in the history of British diesels, labelled feeble, loud, and with an "unacceptable level of exhaust fumes", even worse than the petty Class 17s, which were design failures to begin with!" he growled "The only reason I escaped is because some local workmen who played "Frankenstein" with me. But BOY, am I glad to be finally out of that fucking world!"

"You mean, the humans' world?" Gilda asked.

"Yes. And GOD, the mere thought is a relief!"

"Why?"

"'Cause I fucking hate the bastards!"

This caught her off guard. So far, the engine had been level-headed. Sour, but calm. She didn't expect him to harbor such feelings...

Hating the very people that built him... There was obviously more behind it than what he let of.

Although intrigued, she wasn't that interested about his world... As much as about he himself.

"...Besides, I'm the one who really does work around here, anyway. Those gits in the shed never moved an inch unless I smacked some sense in them. Glad to see them do work HERE, at least. But I guess now that I'M here, things will be back to normal." he grunted.

"Why bother working then?" the griffon asked.

"Because SOMEONE has to work, otherwise, we're all screwed. No work, no pay, no railway. And besides..." the diesel's voice broke "I'm... I'm not going to sink to... THEIR level..."

"...Why do you want to prove yourself?" Gilda asked.

There was a long silence.

Then...

"And why do YOU want to prove yourself?" CoBo barked back miserably.

The griffon was taken aback.

"...How did you...?"

"I know things about you, Gilda..." the Class 28 replied solemnly "We all do. So, why are you chickening out from talking to your own friend? Do you expect her to show up in such earth-bound place as the railway? So close, yet so far." he muttered, concluding "So tell me, griff. What do you want to prove? WHY do you want to prove, even? I know about your incident, and in my opinion, you could just... Brush it off, and return like nothing had ever hap--..."

He was cut off by a heavy pounding he felt on his control panel. It didn't hurt, of course, but it surprised him. So did her voice.

"Shut up, just SHUT UP!" Gilda screamed.

She stopped, and they didn't spoke for a long time.

But as the yard came in sight, he spoke up again...

"Do you know why I just started bossing you around back at the sidings?"

"No." the griffon replied grumpily.

"Well, ya sorta struck me as someone who doesn't like to dither about, and instantly become "Best Friends Forever", or some shit like that... Matter of fact, I thought you'd be like me - someone who doesn't take crap from anyone. Someone who'd be on the case. Someone who doesn't gives a fuck if things are mainstream or not, just does what she likes." the engine smirked.

"Someone who isn't a dweeb."

Gilda couldn't help but to smile as well, as they rumbled into the yard.

As the large diesel roared into the yard, the empty fuel tankers clattering behind it, he couldn't help but to feel watched.

The Chemical Combinat's yard was mostly empty, pass a few other, shiny tankers and a few refrigerator trucks. The complex was new, built a week after the "refurbishment" of the railway. Many things were stored and made here, ranging from food preservatives through latex, diluent, to Chemotox-based aerosols and tar paint. Many petrochemicals and petroleum derivatives were made here as well, including the heating oil they had to collect for a Trottingham's emergency back-up generator. The refinery, and most of the equipment were clean. Too clean, to be honest. Smokestacks were wider than usual, and appeared to be chromed, gently fumigating almost steam-like smoke. There was no weathering on anything, even the tracks themselves were shiny, and the ballast looked new.

The air was clean, sterile, even, not reeking from the smells expected at such a place, it didn't even had the medicine-disinfectant smell of a hospital. Then again, it wasn't Mountain-clear, either.

It was clean. But stiff, in the same time.

CoBo had his guard up. He didn't like the atmosphere of this place, as they looked around. Something was off.

"We'll go to the loading depot, fill these tankers up, and get out of here." he muttered "And, a bit of advice: DON'T get out of the cab."

"Wasn't planning to..." Gilda replied "But... Where are the workcolts? Where's everypony?"

That's it.

There was not a single, living soul around. The yard was devoid of life.

Feeling uneasy, Gilda released the brakes, and the train rolled forward. CoBo was slightly unnerved as well. He still felt like being watched.

"Great." he thought "I'm developing scoptophobia."

There was a row of large, vertical tankers on the other side of the sidings, each as tall as a building, connected to a larger industrial hall behind them, looming over a solitary siding that run between the tall, reinforced wall of the large block, and the containers, shady enough the hide the small tank engine and his pink driver.

Steamie shuffled between the shadows of the tankers, trying to get a peek on the diesel - along with the pony in his cab.

Pinkie Pie had undergone some changes while they arrived there - she kept muttering mundane, dark things about the griffon and what she might do to her friends (most of which ideas didn't went further than bullying and turning her friends into bullies as well). Pinkie's looks had also undergone significant changes: Rather than curly and poofy (or flat), her mane and tail were now zigzagged and disheveled, it's shade turning from magenta to a poignant Fuchsia, reflecting light with a sharp phlox purple, while her fur turned from humble pink to shocking pink. The color of her eyes also deepened in shade, a much sharper blue now. A constant frown and a rather cute half-pout lingered on her face. She had began bossing Steamie around, but the engine just couldn't say no to her - her downbeat had made her look even more adorable. Worrying, but adorable.

She was apparently leaning out from the tank engine's cab, VERY precariously, hanging from the throttle, ordering him about. Thankfully, he was used to not having a driver, so he could move about easily (HiT physics again). They moved forward again, when they heard the honk of CoBo's horn.

"They're leaving! Quick! We gotta hide!"

Instantly, the engine shot backwards, nearly making his "driver" fall out of the cab. They raced behind the row of the tankers, while the Metrovick diesel towed another away.

They never saw he trolley left stranded across the rails, with Steamie going backwards, and Pinkie holding onto her dear life, now busy reconsidering the order she gave with haste. They rammed, cab first, into the cart, making cans of old (but still quite liquid) paint fly up in the air. They were probably used for re-painting buffers, as there were only two colors: red and black. They all landed on top of Steamie, leaving him with impromptu red stripes, and black splodges. Pinkie herself had been flung away from the cab, landing on a pile of alum near by. Laying on her back, unhurt, but startled, she stared up into the sky with wide eyes.

"Oh, sugar-honey-iced-tea with pickles!" the engine grumbled, as he felt the paint trickle down his boiler.

With a sigh, and an annoyed look, Pinkie sat up, after being laid out on the alum heap.

"We gotta go after them!" she announced, all uncertainty disappearing from her eyes.

"Can't we wash this gooey muck off first?"

"There's no time! Our friends may be in danger! We'll have to deal with it later!"

"Eeeerm... Aren't ya overblowing this, Pinkie? I mean, she seemed harmless back at the station, and now, she's working! With CoBo, no less!"

"That's the point, and call me Diane!" the pony explained, jumping back into the cab 'Neither of them likes all the others, so they'll probably team up, and cook up something nasty for us, while they cover it with work! Gilda's a crafty sort, and that CoBo figure seems to know his garlic as well!"

'Do you mean "know his onions"?'

"Yes, know his garlic, onions and celeries! Let's go."

Still trying to figure out what Diane meant with the last sentence, Steamie obeyed, and chuffed away.

"So, how come you're so... Bitter all the time? Speaking of which, how come that all the trains are so embittered?"

The diesel sighed. It was a recurring question among the ponies: WHY were the machines of the other world so sullen all the time? Diesel even went as far to state the following, when his driver asked:

"Friendship MAY be Magic, Sparkle, but Cynicism is Default."

Rudimentary description, but that just about covered the truth. CoBo took a deep breath.

"Well, ya see, Gilda, our world is much different than this. First of all, we're not the prima esse of our world. The humans are. They have built us, and had been the peak of the food chain for thousands of years. They do not know magic, but have technology and religion to back it up. Through history, they all improved and became more powerful, developing their ways of ruleship, prosperity, industry, and most importantly, war. They battled each other indefinitely trough different times, battling ad nauseam for various reasons: landtaking, national pride, ethnic "cleansing", fights for freedom, revolutions, political uprises, any reason to draw weapons, rise up, spill blood, and cause havoc."

Gilda gulped.

"However..." the engine went on, as they were refilling from the Trottingham power station's pumps "Over the years, we engines saw how the societies of our world changed, reformed, disappeared and emerged. We've grown sick of it. ALL of it. The humans, "master race" among this world, are merely decaying idols. Repressing, faulty, imperfect, and feeble. There's no wisdom behind their knowledge. Over these long years we've lived, served, worked, and got withdrawn under their rule, in their world, essentially, and we realized there's no point in respecting them. Well, at least, I did. I deeply despise them, and everything related to them. This may sound like a paradox, as I am also made by them, and trust me, it is, but I care not. The past century saw the rise of the rails, among other, far more "important" things, such as two times five years of senseless slaughter and unspeakable terror, reared by nearly fifty years of paranoia, calculating demagogy and repression. Then came the rise of the road, and the slow, ever-lasting stagnation of train transport. As of today, or at least the time I left planet Earth, humans kept botching up everything within sight, including their own selves. I doubt this changed in ANY way since I left..."

The griffon said nothing, thinking of the world described to her. She barely noticed as CoBo continued, but caught up soon.

"As for me, well... I was the last one to be built of my class, an excess one, even. I never did saw any of my kind. I had several mechanical problems in the early days. I was to loud, smoked to much, and my strength was far from enough. Other engines, both steam and diesel alike, made fun of me, and those any bigger than me beat me up as well."

The avian frowned.

"Now don't try to tell me that a company that runs machines, even living ones, allow it's members to do this at work."

"It wasn't just work." the diesel replied softly "It was our life."

Gilda fell silent.

"As my working life seemed to be coming to an early end, both because of the collective withdrawal of my class, and my mechanical conditions, the workmen at the yard I was based at made a desperate attempt: after blueprinting my motor the best they could, they built a modified, unlicensed version, and replaced my old engine with it. To both of our biggest surprise, it worked well, better than any of my class, what's more, I grew stronger AND faster than any engine, any diesel of that decade."

His voice grew proud, before he stopped momentarily, cleared his throat, and went on:

"The sad fact is, when discovering my newfound power, I decided it was time for revenge. In less than a year, I paid back everything I had to suffer trough for a decade - thanks to my "upgrade", I survived the dusk of the class, labelled as "exceptionally successful". I presumably got more than a few engines closer to the cutter's torch by a few years. But I didn't stopped there. I began to bully smaller, weaker, and novice diesels, trying to find fun in terrorizing them - in the end, I figured out it was no use, I wasn't the bullying kind. My actions, however, toughened up the squirts, so engines like Bowler, Spamcan, and even Diesel himself, gained a worthy life experience from my actions. Not that I was proud of it, but I was glad that it actually benefited them - they learned from it: how to be cruel, how to be rough. Grim. How to be a complete jerk, an utter bastard. 'Cause the one thing I learned in my miserable life: the only way I, as a reject, could manage my way trough, is to become a jerk, but a helpful one. I stuck with the Other Railway for a long time, giving them the necessary aid through the years - SOMEONE had to work, and those lazy gits slacked of 23 hours a day! Together, we managed through the difficulties of service life, by becoming as twisted, dastardly, and brutal as necessary. To be an Other Railway engine is to be a complete bastard, worse than any, but simultaneously be able to work things out with the others for the common gain. We all hate each other here, apart from the siblings. And there's Derek and Steamie, buuuut... "

"So you guys all willingly dropped every sense of moral and ethics, in order to survive?" Gilda was bewildered.

"Yes." the diesel replied simply "Ya gotta fend off other jerks, an' it's better do it in a gang than on your own. Nothing brings people together more than a common hatred for something. That's why the Other Railway still exists. And because we always had a git to boss us around and keep us on edge."

The griffon was left perplexed. She saw the logic in all of this, and what's more, saw truth behind the cold words. But it just felt wrong.

It benefited them to become bastards to anyone who stood up against them. Yet, they hated each other.

She knew the world was cruel, but this just didn't felt right... Those who stick together are friends, right? Or at least, comrades... They're not supposed to despise one another... How could they stick together then?

It made no sense to her.

She jumped a little, as the diesel went on.

"It's different today, though. It's actually good to work and live here. The ponies are nice, even if a bit naive... A bit LOT naive... And they seem to have accepted us engines very well. They're not as prejudicial and paranoid as the humans were..."

Gilda only grumbled on that comment.

"I still don't know WHY you work so hard if none of the others do... Did."

CoBo smiled.

"When I said: "I wanted to be better than them.", I meant that I worked hard so I won't have time to socialize, thus, make up for the times I've been a jerk, AND avoid getting myself in dept more."

"I see..." she didn't, really, but she could make out the picture. Was she supposed to learn something here?

Mysteries.

Not far from them, on yet another shady siding stood Steamie, with Diane on the roof of his cab. The paint still haven't fully dried yet, and it made him feel uncomfortable. The distorted Pinkie on top of him wasn't feeling any better, either... She tried to figure out what would be Gilda's first step, while she chugged on a bottle of treacle. Nothing special, just treacle on it's own. All the while, she was keeping an eye on the diesel. She didn't trust him for one minute, despite how positive the tank engine was about him. He and Gilda seemed to be on a good term - which was bad. The engine was powerful. Stronger than Steamie. AND more popular, from what she understood of her friend's words. This could turn out to be very difficult.

"Ugh..." she groaned suddenly. Looking down, she saw that she had developed a bit of a potbelly. Giving it a gently poke, she could hear her stomach churn.

"I had too much of this thing..." she said, glancing at the bottle, dismayed by the sight: it was only half empty.

"Mrs. Cake always says that I should NEVER let anything go to waste..." she thought to herself sourly, petting her stomach as it gurgled. Her chance to do that, however, quickly vanished. One of the yard's shunting diesel biffed a truck of scrap wood. The truck rolled down the tracks, onto their siding, picking up speed. Steamie, being his dreamy self, only noticed it in the very last second. It bashed straight into him, sending him flying backwards down the line.

Now, the Trottingham power station was a modern, combine heat and electricity plant, which used wood, hay, and biomass for heating, However, the workponies had the tendency to leave things in the wrong place, such as a large pile of dried hay at the end of the sidings.

Steamie crashed into the pile, making hay fly everywhere. Pinkie flew off from the top of his cab, landing in the remaining hay. The treacle bottle slipped out from her hooves, bouncing on the top of the engine's cab, it's neck breaking off entirely, and splattering it's syrupy content all over the mare, before landing not far from her and shattering into pieces, the remaining treacle pouring out onto the tracks.

Diane lay dazed and surprised in a big pile of hay. Her fur was drenched and sticky with the molasses. Hay quickly stuck to it, as she wiggled about, and stood up. Her body was now completely covered in syrup and hay, making her look like some sort of hairy monster. Steamie wasn't any better: the hay had piled up on him, and quickly stuck to the still wet paint on him.

What's worse (and odd), it somehow became electrostatically charged, and now stood up. Both of them looked ridiculous.

The engine that had bashed the truck into them now towed said wagon away onto the other siding, and was busy apologizing with a strong Eastern-European accent, when he saw them. The next second, he burst out laughing, and called out to his colleges on his mother tongue. They also looked up, and laughed.

Bashful and completely embarrassed, Steamie chuffed out from the yard, an equally ashamed Diane quivering in his cab.
They were so busy trying to look invisible, they didn't noticed that Gilda and CoBo still haven't left, as they raced pass the fuel depot.

The two just stared after them.

"Did you saw a steam-powered green caterpillar on wheels race pass us?"

"No."

"Good. Me neither."

As they arrived onto the open line, they gradually slowed down.

"Diane" had slumped down onto the flooring, sniffing quietly. Steamie, on the other hand, was chuffing earnestly, an unusual, sedate look present on his face.

For a long time, they didn't talked. Then, the engine spoke up.

"Wha' happened back ther' was a really bad piece of management from yer part." he said sternly, his Londonian accent shining out "We shouldn' 'ave parked on th' utility sidings, especially no' when ther's shuntin' work bein' done. We shouldn' 'ave left th' yard to begin with. Now, we'r' probably late wi'h like TONS of workorde's, I look like a caterpillar, and ya look like self-aware tumbleweed! She may have been a bully once, but what do you think, why has she returned? 'ave some sort of murderous revenge on ya and everypony else? PUEH! She's far from bein' as pitiful as that! She prob'ly came back to apologize, and what do ya do? Snoop around, following and stalking her, AND a good friend of mine, making assumptions and jumping to conclusions like a complete putz. We're covered in hay, I got a distasteful new coat, and you smell like a candy factory's cesspool! All because you could't stay put on your plot! Well, Miss? What do you have to say for yourself?"

For a long time, Diane didn't reply.

Then, she spoke up softly, sounding very bereft.

"Let's go home."

The tank engine only sighed, and chuffed on.

As they arrived to the yard, they've met with some of the others almost instantly: Derek, as predictable, was at the work shed, being repaired, ONCE AGAIN. Fluttershy was beside him, the two chatting when Steamie rolled in. The effect was instant.

"Ohohoo!" Derek chuckled "Look what's crawled out of the hay! It's actually worth breaking down again, having seen you! Oh, dearie me, hahahaaa!"

Even Fluttershy had to squeeze a sniggle.

"You look like a Woolly Bear!" she smiled mirthfully.

'Arry and Bert, who happened to be working near by, heard and seen all, and began to sign to a familiar tune, being in that sort of mood (mainly because of the amount of raw methanol they had consumed):

Woolly... Woolly-woolly-woolly-bu~u~u~urr... He~e looks like a Woolly Burr! (Woolly Burr!)

The few engines who were back from their work were talking with CoBo, while Gilda waited beside the engine for their next work order. Diesel, being the head shunter, had been there all day, and was very glad to have someone else to talk to than the trucks, and his driver - and Twilight could say the same. Spamcan had also returned, after taking a heavy goods train to Phillydelphia. He and Applejack were now resting up for an evening one - another apple delivery to Canterlot. Old Stuck-Up was also there, getting ready for his evening express. They, too were delighted to meet an old drinking friend like CoBo.

"It's been such a long time, chap!" Stuck-Up spoke with a smile "Where have you been?"

"Ah, you know, here and there..." the Class 28 replied grumpily "IN the background."

"'bou' time we go' anothe' freigh' eng'ne 'ere!" Spamcan declared "'ho's yer drive', by th' way?"

CoBo, for once, didn't seemed reluctant or nonchalant, heck, he even seemed a bit less morose.

"Her name's Gilda, and..."

"Gilda?" Twilight looked surprised "You came back?"

"I AM standing in front of you, dweeb!" she grumbled, glancing around. Where the heck is that Doctor guy?

"So, yah've decided tah join th' railway?" Applejack asked, smiling "That's mighty generous of ya!"

"...How so?" Gilda asked, surprised by the kind words (or more likely from the fact that the cowmare used the term 'railway', as opposed to the generally Equestrian (and especially Appleloosian) 'railroad').

"Well, ya decided to do some real work, and at a workplace that bounds you to the ground, for the benefit of all..."

"And my wallet."

"...And your wallet, but so does the rest of us!" Rarity added quickly "We're delighted to see you've came back."

"Oh, I can imagine!" the griffon replied, rolling his eyes.

"By the way, have you apologized to Fluttershy yet?" Twilight asked "You did treated her very roughly last time."

"Roughly? She yelled 'er 'ead off!" Spamcan grumbled, but Applejack shushed him.

"Uuuuh... Yeah, I did." Gilda lied, but her engine wasn't about to let her.

"No ya don't!" he barked.

"Gee, thanks, man, really!" the griffon snapped back. Deciding to avoid that last bit of info, Rarity continued.

"All the same, we're very glad to see that you both found a good partner."

". . . Beg your pardon?" CoBo asked.

"I mean, as colleges! As driver and engine!" the white mare hastily added under the bewildered look of her friends.

"Yess, of course..." Stuck-Up added, after a long pause "CoBo, you needed a driver who would improve that misanthropic mood of yours, and there you have one, someone to relate to!"

"You too, Gilda!" Applejack added "Seems CoBo's just th' engine yah need to be able to enjoy yer work!"

The diesel and the griffon couldn't help but to slip a timid smile over those comments.

"Yes, and... Is that a giant, hairy caterpillar?" Rarity asked, her weird question and terrified look making everyone else look in the direction she was looking (apart from CoBo, who wasn't facing the phenomenon).

"Looks like it." Twilight replied "A Woolly Bear, perhaps? But THIS big?"

"Nah, it ain' it. Woolly Bears aren't green..."

"Nor do they smoke..." Diesel grumbled, squinting his eyes "Wait... Is that..."

"STEAMIE?!" they all gasped, before Spamcan burst out in a rude guffaw. The tank engine stopped beside the laughing diesel, and as Applejack looked back between them, she saw something that made her mouth curl up into a grin. Quickly, she hopped inside Spamcan's cab, and popped a CD from the engine's large collection into the pirate stereo system he had installed under his control panel.

As the applefarmer climbed out of the cab and trotted forward, a steady, army-like tune began to fill the air. It was the Imperial March.

"Presentin' you..." Applejack spoke in a serious manner, before stepping aside "PINKIE THE HAY LORD!"

And out from between the engines came Diane, still looking like a tumbleweed. The others didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Pinkie's head hung low, as she slowly trotted away from the still laughing D199 and her own engine, before bothering to take a glance at what's in front of her.

Her blood run cold.

She was a mere two meters from an equally shocked Gilda.

Instantly, she climbed into her face, every bit of hay and dried syrup falling onto the ground where she was standing roughly a second ago. She was glaring straight into the griffon's eyes, mouth twisted into a snarl.

"YOOOOUUUU..." she hissed. The others were taken aback. THIS was Pinkie Pie? Her mane was zig-zagged, her fur in various shades of purple, and her personality warped.

Gilda wasn't awestruck for a long time.

"BACK OFF, CREEP!" she yelled, and pushed the pony to the ground. Instantly, Diane was up again, heaving heavily, as she kept a glare on the now equally angry griffon.

"The HELL are you, and what's your problem?!" she snapped.

"What's MY problem?! what's YOUR problem, you... You... Stupid... Turkey... Cat... Thing...?!"

Seething with fury, the pony could barely make out her words.

"You came back, FINALLY deciding to show your ugly mug, for CELESTIA KNOWS WHY, and put me through a living nightmare! You and that motorized coach you call an engine made me and my friend look ridiculous, get laughed at by random trains, and now, you STEAL my friends from me! And you dare to ask what's wrong with--?!"

"What's with you, Pinkie?!"

They all looked up, hearing the new voice.

Rainbow Dash was lowering herself to the ground. Once landed, she shot an angry glance at the once pink pony.

"What the Ha... HECK is this all about?" Rainbow asked.

"I think I can answer that."

They all turned towards Steamie, surprised. The tank engine explained:

"We saw Gilda talking to Doctor Whooves this morning, and I suggested that Pinkie should stay away from her, given the fact they weren't on speaking terms, and Gilda seemed to be a rather brutish sort. From that, she concluded that Gilda came back because she's planning something against her, and possibly her friends. We spent the whole day following CoBo and Gilda around, and, NO thanks to them, ending up covered in paint, treacle, and hay. Pinkie is just being a paranoid pony. Or 'Diane', as she now refers to herself."

Diane could only gape at the tank engine. She felt betrayed.

"I see..." Rainbow muttered, before glaring at the once-bubbly mare "I'll be honest with you, "Diane". For a long time, I thought that what happened at that party was just a string of bad luck, and Gilda had been overreacting. But now, I see I got it all wrong. You had set those pranks up deliberately to make her act out, so that you can play the "innocent" role, and make her loose me as a friend!" she pointed an accusing hoof at her.

Diane could only squirm, pulling herself closer together, trying to look smaller, as Dash went on:

"But you failed. Gilda's still me friend! She was, WAY before you, and she will be, even AFTER you, Pinkie Pie! Cause friends don't set up each other like that! Thought you could pull off the same thing twice? Fat chance!" she stomped angrily. "You're no friend of mine, Pinkie Pie!"

The others gasped.

"Diane"-Pinkie slowly slumped to the ground, her fur reverting into a darker shade of pink, her mane and tail flattening out, as her first tears rolled down on her cheeks.

"Dash.... NOT. Cool!"

This made her look up. Gilda was beside her!

One wing was resting over her, as the avian glared at the gob smacked cyan pegasus.

"Aren't you supposed to be the Element of Loyalty?" she growled "You had betrayed me when I was in a tight spot, and chose your NEW friends over me. Now, when your NEW friend is in trouble, you ditch her for me. SEE why I called you a flip-flop? You betrayed both of us, you massive jerk!"

Rainbow was speechless.

"Some Element of Loyalty you are!" CoBo scoffed "You turn on your own friends when they need your help! Even I didn't do that to these bastards!" he went on, shooting a glance at the other engines.

"AND you don't sign up for work here!" Twilight added, now also annoyed "The Princesses themselves had asked us to do so, and we all ask you to show some loyalty, and help us out here, just for ONE day in a week, but you turn your wings at us!"

"SOME loyalty!" Stuck-Up grumbled.

"SOME friend!" Rarity added indignantly.

"AN' ruddy useless!" Spamcan put in.

Rainbow's eyes darted around. The situation had quickly slipped out of her hooves. She didn't found ONE friendly face in the crowd. In fact, the only face that wasn't hateful or angry was Pinkie's, who was looking both scared and confused.

Fighting her own tears, she burst out:

"FINE!"

And she flew off.

"Good riddance!" Stuck-Up grumbled.

"I double that." Diesel added "Stupid cunt."

"Trus' a livin' Skittles commercial t' be yer friend!" Spamcan muttered.

Steamie and CoBo exchanged looks. They didn't expect this, and they didn't wanted it to happen, either.

Gilda just stared after the pegasus, still looking annoyed, while Pinkie slowly recovered.

"Now... How 'bout you two write a letter to Princess Celestia?" Twilight asked.

"A letter? To the princess?" Gilda WAS confused.

"Friendship report." Pinkie explained, her hair poofing up slightly, as the familiar and comforting topic was brought up.

Dear Princess Celestia!

Today, I learned - sadly, through the hard way - that you should never jump to conclusions, and be paranoid about something you can't be sure of. I got myself in trouble because of it. However, it's all better now, and I've even managed to make a new friend. I also learned that I shouldn't exaggerate things I make up for myself, because I can easily get caught up in.

With love,

Your favorite party pony,

Pinkie Pie.

Dear Princess Celestia!

Today, I learned something I have been turning away from for a long time: You have to value your friends. Because true friends are rare. It took me too long to realize this, but finally, I know.

Also, you shouldn't be afraid of making new friends - because you never know, when will they come to your aid, but if they're there when you need them, it already worth the effort.

Signed,

Gilda.

The Princess smiled at the letters she received earlier that evening. She was about to get to bed, when she decided she'd read them before sleep. There was a third one as well, but this was more of a folded paper sheet rather than a letter.

It was sort, too:

Dear Princess Celestia.

I lost my friends. I lost my loyalty. I lost my value. I don't know what to do now.

Rainbow Dash

She put the sheet down with a saddened look. Luna had been reading it above her shoulder.

"What do you think?" she asked, turning to her.

"I don't know... But I felt her element weakening half an hour before. Shall we help her?"

Celestia sighed.

"No, Luna. It's something she'll have to deal with by herself..."

Episode 6 - The Diesel, The Zebra, and The Spluttershy

THE DIESEL, THE ZEBRA, AND THE SPLUTTERSHY

She knew the path very well... Just a quick turn to through the forest, across the lines, through the field, and there she was. Or, at least, supposed to be.

She had done this so many times by now, she knew the back like the back of her hooves. Wait... Did her hooves even have a back?

Through the forest she went, the heavy foliage of the old trees shading the light, looming over her head like a canopy. Her sight has been reduced - dark shadows covered the path. Her assistant was getting impatient...

"Don't worry, well get there soon..." she whispered "I hope..."

Trees, with long, gnarly branches hoovering over her head, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze... She felt herself more and more lost, as she trotted down the dark path.

The forest, usually more like a jungle, was now indeed the very description of a temperate zone, deciduous, scary, dark forest. She couldn't recognize the species, but they looked sinister... As she trotted deeper into the woods, she could feel a sense of dread rising within herself. The world seemed to be loosing colors, as she ventured, a mist rose to her feet, getting more and more dense, while the tall grass seemed to flatten, die, the ground becoming barren, aside from the trees, now tall and pillar-like, with long, claw-like branches, arching down towards her... The air grew cold and moist, and the light was nearly gone. The streaks of the sun shining trough the leafage turned into an ominous, monochrome color.

RED.

She would've sworn she heard whispers behind herself. Slowing down, she listened carefully.

She couldn't make out the language, but the voices increased in number, the casual whispering turning into a quiet cacophonia. Her heart started to beat faster, her breaths grew hastier, as she increased her speed, trotting faster and faster. Through the whispers and the breeze flying pass her ears, she could hear a thunderous crackle from behind. Looking back, only for a brief moment, she saw a tall tree collapse onto the ground, it's trunk snapped into half. Gray light covered that area, where the tree fell down. And, grasping it with it's long, clawed hand was...

She gasped as the dark eyes rested upon her. Turning her head forward, she ran, faster than the wind, her assistant holding onto his dear life. Thorn bushes filled a trench in front of her. She jumped, spreading her wings... Flying faster and faster, she rose into the foliage, darting left and right between the now sword-like branches... Breaking through the top, she felt the tiniest branches brush under her fur, scarring her skin, and breaking off.

But she was out now, under the full-spectrum of Celestia's sweet sun, soaking up it's heat, her mane flowing freely. She had almost forgotten how great it is to fly.

Took one glance down.

MILES away from the ground...

"MEEP!"

She slowed down, her muscles tense, lowering closer and closer to ground level - an instinctive reaction. To her misfortune, she was lowering back into the forest as well... But in the distance, she could see it come to an end, the rising sun reflected from the long-stretching pieces of metal. So she sped up, fighting her own reflex to dive back to the ground, her body shaking, as instinct and sheer willpower fought. She could still feel her assistant, hugging her, holding his body close. He did not dare to part with her.

With one loud, wheezing gasp, she landed, unable to fight her instinct anymore. Landing slightly roughly on the lush, soft green grass, she laid down, legs and wings spread, her chest heaving heavily, her eyes close to rolling back, as her consciousness was ready to flee. A gentle shake from her friend woke her up. Looking up, she saw concern in his eyes.

"I'm... *huff* ...OK..." she muttered, smiling. Slowly, she got back up, standing on shaking legs.

"We'll... Leg it... OK?"

Her assistant nodded furiously.

"Good morning, Fluttershy!" he greeted him. A cheery smile, a kind voice, triangle-ish eyebrows, big nose...

"Good morning, Derek!" she replied. Derek was a kind sort. Soft-spoken, gentlecolty, "gentleMANly", as he put it, very noble, and endlessly polite. To bad he couldn't enjoy a good health with it. Being a Class 17, Derek's engine was a disaster area, especially his cooling system, which failed him the most. He had broken down more times than any other machinery in British Railway History. His mechanical condition - along with himself - has been neglected by his previous owner - the notorious and loathed Sir Wyatt Fronts, the 'Thin Git'.

However, in his new workplace, he was well-kept and looked after. Sadly, this didn't helped his persistent "teething troubles", no matter how hard Spike worked, he always remained a weedy engine, spluttering smoke and going up in flames (sometimes literally) every three to five hours - every eight hour on cold days (he absolutely LOVES winter). Never-the-less, he remained a diligent, optimistic engine, ready to work whenever he was needed. Thus, he was sort of an outcast among the slacker, hardcore, heavy-weight diesels of the Other Railway, but his meek nature and gentleness may have been the very reason the others haven't grown even more sour over the years. And the fact that he has the biggest alcohol tolerance among them also makes him a respected member among the clan. A gullible prat, he was often the butt of the other's jokes and the scapegoat when weaseling out of their jobs. Not here, thought.

He was the only one who actually WANTED to go to Equestria - the others merely followed him as ordered by the Thin Git to get him back (a hastily made idea, probably, as they all got stuck, and decided to pose as refugees, only to be followed by ACTUALLY fleeing engines from all around planet Earth).

Already, Angel bunny was looking into his engine. He had no idea were the little rabbit got it's profession, but he was excellent at fixing him up quickly. He sometimes even made dangerous stunts: due to his size, he could get inside his double engine blocks, and he even did this when his engines were still running, or what's more, he was still moving. By the weird oddities of fate, Fluttershy was yet to notice her "pet's" death-defying mechanical skills - and thank heavens for that. Luckily for all three of them, Alexei, the foreign deity and controller of the railway, Equestrian Rail, AND the Princesses were looking into this problem, as the god had recently "acquired" the blueprints of Derek's class, and were looking over it to find a solution.

After that check-up, and receiving their work order, they rolled off, again, towards the forest.

Everfree Forest was one of the most well-known and notorious green lands of Equestrian, spreading over provinces, it's thick foliage covering the land for miles, like a mountain range, only broken by ravines and clearings and deforestation paths that ponies made in ancient times. Some areas were habitable, some were even inhabited, but most was left alone, giving home to many mythical, supernatural creatures. Certain areas were even worse: shrouded by something the civilized beings only know as the Corruption, parts of the great forest had turned into a nightmare land. Lethal beings roamed these parts, but thankfully, the Corruption wasn't going anywhere. It was a the environmentalists' recurring question: HOW did it even appeared? No magic could explain it, nor could any weather movement. It was a mystery. Naturally, Fluttershy would have reported the appearance of the Corruption in their part of the forest, but it had been there since she first ventured in there, before the Corruption in general was discovered. She felt it wouldn't help at all - they couldn't sterilize any other corrupted parts, either.

And also, there was... The Thrill.

Now Fluttershy wasn't a mare of huge demands. She had everything she needed: Her friends, her animal friends, her cottage, the ground, and more importantly, the "friendlier" part of the Everfree Forest, close to hoof, and now, she also had her locomotive friend. She also had "The Stare", which she could use to tame animals.

But... The Thrill was different.

The Thrill... Was unique.

A shy and often fearful pony by nature, no-one expected Fluttershy to be adventurous. However, this was beyond adventuring.

Fluttershy had an addiction.

A natural addiction.

Every time she braved that very same path through the corrupted forest, she was in full knowledge of the danger she had put herself out to. Beasts and monsters inhabited the Everfree Forest. Ends and Terrors dwelled in the Hollow Holt.

She wasn't sure when the Holt had appeared, but it had been there for a long time - it was there before her. Every time she went through it, it stored a new horror for her. It felt like as if it was waiting for her. Creeping up to her.

The ponies despised the Corruption. They HATED it. It was one of the few things that evoke such vile and strong negative emotion from them. The griffons hated it as well - their story went back a long time, when they were still in clans rather than a full civilization. Zebras hated it as well - the amount of dark magic it emitted was strong enough to defile an entire sightful of landscape within a day. Thankfully, it wasn't spreading. It also turned the natural habitats of the land feeble: blinded, albino, leukemics, DEAD.

Yet, she couldn't help herself.

The threat she felt, every time she saw the shadows increasing. Like a surge of electricity, it slipped down her spine.

The Thrill.

The rising sense of dread, a potential of instant shock, panic lingering within her body, her mind in disarray. Her general fears gone in favor of a much larger one. It made her muscles tense, increasing her strength. Blood pumped wildly within her, and her senses were madly increased, as if she had taken an overdose. Which she did. All the time.

For Fluttershy was addicted. Not to ground salt. Not to Witch Weed.

She was addicted to adrenalin.

A neurotic malfunction it was, perhaps, but her FFF (Fright/Freeze, Fight or Flight reactionary system) was overwhelmed by the amount of adrenalin that flowed through her, every time she was in danger. But only the Thrill could provide a boost big enough to dull her conscious senses, and make her fully return to her instincts.

She hated going trough the path.

Yet, she wouldn't help it.

She couldn't help it.

What's worse, she wasn't even conscious of it.

They arrived to the forest cutting quite early, most of the machines weren't even on yet, heck, even the workponies weren't present. But there was one thing that was awake, one thing that was already on the move: Brush.

"Good morning, chaps!" he called out to them. The Class 47 was busy arranging some trucks "Glad you could come!"

"So are we!" Derek replied cheerfully "What's the plan?"

Brush eyed them up. And spotted the pony.

"You're Fluttershy, right?" he asked "Well, you may not like this, but there's a deforestation going on."

The mare flinched.

"It's nothing large-scale, though..." the diesel quickly explained "We're making a double-line industrial through here, where the woodland is the thinnest. It'll be going to Gaslight City. It's biggest power plant and gasworks are just beyond the forest. And don't worry, afforestation had simultaneously begun elsewhere." he finished with a smile.

Fluttershy forced on a smile.

"G-Good to hear."

"Ooookaay, I guess?" Brush wasn't convinced "Anyways, we got some time before the shift starts, so, ya might as well make yourself comfortable."

The two diesels quickly started to chat about work and their new life in Equestria. Fluttershy, finding the conversation rather personal, stayed silent, idly watching Angel nibble on a particularly large carrot he somehow brought along, as she thought: Gaslight City. A place fabled for it's uniquity in style, design, and, of course, lighting. Mares like her could never even dream of visiting such a place - despite all it's beauty, Gaslight City was an industrial metropolis - "Authorized Personnel Only". The city could just as easily been built as a massive, ugly energy complex, rather than the architectural dreamland it was today. Hadn't it been for Celestia, the place would be an eyesore, rather than a sight for sore eyes. With all it's technical wonders and beauty, it was the perfect gift for the science-loving Luna. But, as a city that uses coal as it's main power source (the main material used by it's gasworks, producing coke as a commercial product, and town gas for the citizens themselves), it sure had a great demand. Serving it has been a great backsore for years. But the expansion and modernization of the railway system gave space for new solutions.

Such as this industrial branch.

Part of the branch was already finished - they were on it, and now, they were continuing it's constructions. It had to be extended further, across the the stripe of forest, straight to the outskirts of the city, where the plant was.

She tried not to think of the deforestation process that will take place, but her mind kept returning to it - and then shifted onwards, towards the memories of that less friendlier part of the woods.

She was woken by the hooter which marked the start of the shift. Many workponies have already arrived, and so did the forecolt. Standing in a circle, they waited for the orders to he handled out, and soon joined by Fluttershy as well.

"Alrigh', lads!" the forecolt spoke up.

Or snapped, more likely. He had a nasalous, harsh voice, and didn't sounded very kind.

"We got some urgent business to take care of here! We'll have to lay down AT LEAST one mile of track by the end of the day! However, since the wood stripe is twenty miles thick, and we still have sixteen miles ahead of us, we ought to speed this up. The geographic bureau had marked our path: apparently, this part of the woods ahead of us had been attacked by a strange fungus that made the trees rot from the inside, dry out, and collapse, also poisoning the soil. We're going to mow down this stripe, lay the ballast and the tracks." he declared sharply.

"However..."

The slightly dulled workponies now looked up.

"However... There are certain danger points that you all best keep in mind. First of all, if you notice any swarm of insects, ESPECIALLY parasprites and wasps, report it immediately. We can't be delayed by a cursed bug invasion. Second, there are two or three parts of the forest we have to avoid, so, whatever you do, DON'T change our general direction! There are three landmarks that we have to watch out for."

A giant map was levitated up for all the workponies to see, displaying the path of the cutting, and three points along the way, one of which was now highlighted.

"One of them is a ravine. We don't have that sort of money to build a bridge over it, so, we'll have to go around it's edge. Thankfully, our path passes right beside it, so it shouldn't be much of a problem."

Another point was highlighted. This was further away from the path, and also had a trail joining to it.

A trail, that led back to Ponyville.

"The next "obstacle" is actually far from our path. It is the hut of a zebra remedist called Zecora. You might know her."

Most of the workponies nodded in agreement.

"Well, the thing is, since the lines will be less than one and a half mile from it, will have to give her a notice about the rails, you know, legislative stuff, and whatnot. The third one is a bit obscure for me."

The last, third point was highlighted. This was, by far, the closest to the line, and a small warning sign appeared next to it: A white triangle with a red edge, inside of it a twisty trifurcate symbol pointing upwards - the universal symbol of "Mental Hazard". It wasn't very far from Zecora's hut. Fluttershy's eyes went wide.

"Apparently, there's a ruined village VERY close to our route. I don't know if you guys heard about it, but Celestia herself had warned us about it. We MUST avoid that one village at all cost, and make the line as far away from it as possible. Now, we don't have the money to arch very far from it, so the distance we'll put between IT and the rails is million times the distance between the market path and the point displayed on this map."

Whispers filled the crowd. The workponies were anxious. One of them asked out aloud:

"Boss... Wha's up wi' tha' village?"

The forecolt looked over his ponies. He gave a sigh...

"...Does any of you know of... The 'Story of the Blanks'?"

Derek's engine run cold. An unfamiliar, icy feeling filled his engine blocks. Brush was dumbfounded.

He knew of the horror stories revolving around the ponies, but wasn't very good with details.

Fluttershy froze altogether. She couldn't see. She couldn't feel. She couldn't think. Just listen.

The crowd fell silent. They looked at each other in bewilderment.

"According to the Royal Archives..." the forecolt went on "In her weakest years, a the first few decades after the unfortunate... Events with Princess Luna... Or Nightmare Moon..."

The ponies cringed...

"So, in those years, Princess Celestia was still beyond herself. "Grief that they had never seen greater", they wrote. In this less than sober frame of mind, she approved of a program devised by one of her ministers back then. This was before the elections and the multi-party system was established, WAY before it."

It began to dawn to them, what their boss was talking about. He continued, nevertheless...

"The program I'm talking about..." he said slowly "Is something that you may know of as... "The Village Destruction Plan"."

The ponies hissed. Derek and Brush exchanged dismayed glances.

They all knew of the plan, the dark splodge on Princess Celestia's solitary ruleship.

"The Cost of Progress is that of the cost of a few houses." said the motto.

Today, it was know as:

"The Cost of Progress was the cost of homes, culture, and lives."

For the sake of industrialization and urbanization, rural areas were obliterated, and many villages ceased to exist, destroying cultural hotspots, and erasing long years of history. Nearly a thousand years it may have been, but the ponies still remembered it. It was one of Princess Celestia's biggest regrets. She saw the blame and incomprehension in SO many ponies' eyes. That included the eyes of Discord, Queen Chrysalis, Princess Cadence, and most importantly, her own sister, Princess Luna. No one understood, what went through her head when she made her decision. Neither did she.

The first victim of the senseless and needless destruction was an isolated village in the Everfree Forest, simply known as The Great Forest back then.

"It is said that this one place, called Sunnytown, was the first victim of the plan that was yet to be announced when the village was deserted." the forecolt spoke "But, there's a... Rumor going about that the reason that place is a ghost town by now, is not as secular as the political records should suggest. They say there's something supernatural is behind the desertion of that place, and the reason it was emptied is not within the greater scheme of politics."

The forecolt's eyes wandered of, his gaze resting in the air.

"That place may even be the source of the thing we know as... The Corruption..."

The ponies gasped. Fluttershy twitched, and sunk to her flank, her face going pale. Her pupils dilated, her irises spread. Her breath stretched, as if she was constantly sighing, trying to avoid hyperventilation.

"Which brings us to the last point." their chief went on "If any of you see sights that would suggest the Corruption is present - and we all know what those are -, the immediately report it to me. OK, I think that's all. Alright, ponies, let's get this line laid."

And on that cue, Fluttershy snapped out of her trance. With shaking legs, she walked back to her engine. They exchanged a glance - and that was all that was needed. They went on their work, pulling and pushing trucks. The cranes loaded them, and then, they arranged it into a train, which Brush took away to the sawmill. The cranes themselves were inanimate, completely relying on the ponies to control them.

There was, however, one machine that was just as alive as the engines and the trucks.

It was large, weather-worn, turquoise deforestation machine with caterpillar wheels, and two great circular saws in the front. It rumbled loudly, as it mowed down trees and shrubbery. It had square-shaped gray face at the lower front of his cab, cleverly positioned so that both he and his driver could see what's in front of them. He also had a tall exhaust pipe extending from him, which blew thick plumes of white smoke - he wasn't completely warmed up yet, and some dew had gotten into his exhaust, which now rapidly turned into steam.

He slowly moved forward with a content look, clearing up the forest, while a large plow on his lower part also removed the trunks. When they arrived to a bigger tree, he had to reverse, so that the lumberjacks could take care of it personally. He couldn't risk rendering himself out of order.

As Fluttershy stopped Derek for a refill at the mobile tanker, she couldn't help but to stare at the large machine. He was robust and looked dangerous, yet, his movements were soft and gentle.

Brush stopped beside the two, and by then, both of them were gazing at monstrum chopping down the forest stripe.

"They call him Cutlass." he explained "He's a lonesome fellow, but trust me, his heart is not as sharp as his blades. He's very gentle, to be honest. But he rather keeps himself to himself."

"Uhuh..." the mare replied, her eyes still on the machine.

They made good progress, and soon, they passed the ravine - didn't actually saw it, but the map showed it to be close. No one dared to wander off, so they moved fast... When they came in level with Zecora's hut, the forecolt trotted straight to Fluttershy.

"Listen, gal..." he spoke to her, gentler than he usually does "I know you're a friend of Zecora, so, could you please take this paper to her?" he hoofed over a form "We need her to fill this out in order to continue. If she doesn't agrees, we'll have to turn to the right authorities, the sooner, the better. You're a pegasus, so you can fly over this canopy." he went on "You know, if it's not a big thing to ask..."

"Oh, no, it isn't..." Fluttershy replied, lowering her head slightly "But, umm... You see..."

She leaned closer, and whispered to him:

"I'm afraid of flying..."

The stallion was taken aback... But, scratching his stubble, his voice turned serious.

"C'mon, gal, show some guts! Just fly above the foliage level, and keep looking forward, until you can see his hut in the distance. I heard there's a large clearing around it, keep looking for that. Now GO, we don't have time."

The mare only meeped, as the stallion pushed her forward, much to Derek's and Brush's protest.

"Hey! Leave her alone! She didn't sign up for this!"

"That's no way to treat a lady! HEY! LEAVE HIM ALONE, YOU TWAT!"

The dark brown pony paid no attention to them, he just pushed her near the edge of the forest.

"Look..." he muttered impatiently "You came here to help, so help! Just fly over to her, there's a good gal!" and with that, he turned away. Already, the workponies were assaulting him for his behavior, but he didn't care. He wanted to get the job done and over with.

Shaking slightly, Fluttershy looked at the dense woods ahead of her. With a deep sight, she took off.

The the black maned stallion's advice seemed to work. She flied above the heavy leafage of the forest, and soon saw the clearing. Landing easily on the dusty ground she trotted towards the door of the hut, and once there, knocked.

"Ah, the kind one, Fluttershy, you came to visit, or just passing by?" she was greeted by the herbalist's rhyming words. She smiled, and wasted no time.

"Good day, Zecora, I, ummm... I came for a reason..." she spoke. The zebra was all ears.

"What that reason may be, that brought you directly to me?"

"Well, umm... It's..." She didn't know how to explain, so she simply hooved the paper to her.

"Hmmm? What's this?" she asked, and skimmed through it. Lowering it, she looked quite surprised.

"Noise pollution from lines of the railway?" she asked, before chuckling "Hard to believe, it's so far away!"

"But were closer to you than one and a half mile!" Fluttershy explained frantically "The lines will pass by over there, and it could be very noisy, and..."

Zecora placed her hoof on her mouth, silencing the pony. She had a gentle smile.

"Fluttershy, dear friend, the forest is dense, it's foliage will come to my ears' defense." she smiled, and, dipping a feather into a tar-like liquid, she wrote her name on the marked line. She then turned to the pegasus:

"After all, do you think, that if I had already heard the machines, I wouldn't say a thing? But now that you mentioned this great ordeal, I'd like to see those machines have a forest meal..."

The yellow mare blinked.

"Huh?"

"I've never in my life seen mechanical saws, are they like creatures that put trees in their maws?"

"Oh? NO-nonononooo!" Fluttershy was slowly catching on "There's just one machine, Cutlass, and the workponies use chainsaws and axes. Then me, Derek and Brush take it away."

Now Zecora was trying to catch up.

"Slow down, dear friend, it's hard to understand! So the ponies work in a band?"

"Y-Yes. There are twenty or twenty-five stallions and mares, and one deforestation machine, plus, a few cranes to load the logs onto the trucks."

"So, the rails are already being built with such haste? Hope their efforts won't go to waste!"

"Oh, no, you see, they clear a part of the forest, then lay the ballast, then the sleeper, and THEN, the rails. They can already be used, so we bring trucks, and the cranes load them with logs. We then take them to the sawmill..."

"We? Who is the company? I must see!"

"See?" Fluttershy looked up "You mean... You wanna come to the site?"

"Yes indeed!" Zecora replied with a smile "The whole operation sounds like a chore, but with all this equipment, couldn't there be more?"

"W-What? N-No, they're just cutting a clearing for the railway lines..." the mare muttered "There's going to be an industrial line from Ponyville to Gaslight City, and it has to got through the forest. They simply marked what would be the quickest way, and, now... They're clearing the "obstacles" away... That's all..." she muttered, glancing back at the zebra "But, if you want to come..."

"I certainly wish..." Zecora smiled "My knowledge of the forest may even come handy, plus..." a sultry smile appeared on her face "So many working horses can be quite an eye-candy."

Fluttershy blushed madly upon hearing this...

"O-Oh... My..." she uttered. She didn't even thought of the whole thing from this direction.

"Shall we go then? Please, show the way!" the herbalist continued, walking up to the edge of the clearing "I wish to see them!"

She turned away from Fluttershy, before uttering with the same sly smile, now accompanied with a blush...

"And, perhaps, have a roll in the hay..."

They arrived quite quickly. Zecora was eager to see how the deforestation process went by, and Fluttershy needed to get back to work, anyway...

When they reappeared, the workponies first greeted them, but when they saw Zecora, they fell silent. The zebra didn't seemed to mind, though, she was busy examining the equipment. Hard to believe, but she had never even seen a chainsaw before. Back in her homeland, the lumberjacks were ill-equipped, due to financial reasons, and cuttings weren't made in such large scales, anyway. Well, that was what it was like when she was still a filly. She then began to ask the workponies on break about the equipment. They were a bit awkward at first, but soon, they caught the enthusiasm of the zebra, and began to show her the equipment. But some where surprised.

"Excuse me..." a mare asked "But are you really okay with this? I mean, we're trimming the forest. Your forest!"

The zebra smiled.

"That may be, but I'm not an angry mob, and besides, it is just another job!" she smiled "The forest isn't mine at all, anyway, and I don't mind a bit of... Trimming, if it's for the railway..."

She fully understood why they needed to clear the way, and agreed with it, too...

When she was young, she was often dismayed how the workponies, often aided by her tribe, chopped down the trees to make way for the rails... But when the rails were actually finished, and the trains brought water, medicine, and farming equipment, she finally understood why the trees needed to go. And, even back then, they planted trees elsewhere, to make up for the loss.

But, back then, the trains were pulled by smoke-spewing steam engines, that clanked loudly, and moved about with a huff...
She was surprised to see the two diesel engines, not to mention living ones.

"Pleasant to meet you, miss Zecora!" Derek greeted her with his usual lisp "My name is Derek, and this is my good friend, Brush."

The Class 47, with a mustache made out of his own empty headcode-panel, greeted the Zebra kindly.

"Charmed to meet you, miss Zecora!" he spoke "Glad you came to see our work. I'm 47666, but my friends just call me "Brush"."

The herbalist herself was charmed by the engine.

"I'm glad myself that I've came to see, these machines and methods are new to me..." she said, taking an intimidated glance at Cutlass, as he cleared yet another yard "But you engines are beyond my imagination, could you tell how you diesels came to creation?"

Brush smiled widely.

"It all started 154 years ago, with the birth of a man named Rudolf Diesel..."

While the engine explained the origin of his kind, and the development of the heavy-duty engine that WAS his origin, Fluttershy found herself verbally assaulted by the forecolt.

"WHY did you brought... Her here?" he asked furiously "This is an authorized area, and she's holding up work!"

"I didn't meant to..." Fluttershy explained "She just wished to come along. She means no harm, and she isn't holding up work, I swear!"

"Still..." the forecolt hissed "I don't need any... Zebras disturbing my work... OR mares..." he added, glaring at the pegasus.

There was a spark, and something flared in Fluttershy's eyes.

"Now HOLD ON JUST A MINUTE!" she snapped, quite loudly, catching the stallion by surprise, and also catching the attention of the many workponies around them.

"How DARE YOU...!" she hissed "How DARE YOU...!" she seemed so angry, she couldn't even find the words...

Slowly, she calmed down a bit, heaving heavily, but her eyes still seethed with fury. But instead of yelling, she merely declared what she had to say, and quite coldly.

"This operation is run, and funded, by Equestrian Rail and it's associates. Both the cranes, and Cutlass carry the company's emblem, which means they belong to US." she uttered. This was true, Equestrian Rail had recently developed a symbol for marking it's property, a slightly changed version of the original British Rail double arrows symbol.

"You, and your workponies ALSO seem to be carrying said symbol." she went on, her voice gaining a malicious tone "Which means, you're all under the jurisdiction of the railway, which is owned and directed by the princesses themselves, and controlled by their regal advisor. All of whom I know, and can proudly name as one of my closest friends. You are merely an employee, hired to lead the deforestation along the marked lines. But you have no word in what the RAILWAY does. You're no boss of me."

A guileful smirk crept onto the mares face, disturbing the already dismayed stallion.

"You can't order me to throw my guest out of an area authorized by the railway. My mere presence allows her to be here. And anyways, "authorized area"? Tch. We're in the middle of a bucking forest. EVERFREE Forest. Someone who actually LIVES in it may easily be our greatest aid... After all, we still have Sunnytown to face." she added.

And with that, she turned around, slapping the stallion with the end of her tail, also snapping from the pandemonium he had to suffer through when encountering The Stare. He was heaving heavily, and closed his eyes with tire, when he heard Fluttershy talk once more.

"And, as for your racial prejudices... You best consult with my friend Zecora..."

And with that, she trotted off, leaving a dumbfounded forecolt among many, now malevolent looking colleges. But they all returned to work, without saying a word. The dark brown stallion just sat down, taking off his white safety helmet, letting his black mane fall free. He looked at the now ignorantly working ponies, and felt completely out of place. Rejected. Outcast.

He heard hoofs grind on the freshly laid ballast behind him. Slowly, he looked up.

Zecora had came to him.

At first, he was worried about what the zebra may say, but the sincere look in her eyes dismissed all paranoia. Well, almost.

"My dear stallion, what is the matter? The ponies are either cross or dismal, you seem the latter..."

The stallion sighed...

"Well... You see... I have this... Problem..." he spoke with honesty, though found it hard to put his thoughts into words.

"And what shall that be? I'm sure we can find a remedy." the zebra was optimistic. She had either not heard Fluttershy's last sentences, or chose to ignored them.

"Nno, it's nothing biology-related..." The stallion admitted, looking away bashfully. Zecora took a moment to eye him up. He was bigger than the others, roughly as big as Big Macintosh, with a dark brown fur, black mane and tail, and a circular-saw blade cutting a line as his cutie mark. His attire consisted of the now removed white helmet and a light-reflecting neon blue vest, both of which indeed carried the Equestrian Rail symbol.

She then glanced at Cutlass, the large, but gentle deforestation machine, the introvert sort whom the workponies praised to no end, then looked back at the stallion, looking ashamed like a colt caught shouting profanities.

It didn't took her long to see a connection.

"Then tell me what ails you, dear stallion. You look like a sail-less galleon..."

"Well... It's just that..." he found it harder and harder to explain "I had never spoken with a zebra before... And..."

He felt a hoof on his mouth. Looking up, he stared straight into Zecora's turquoise eyes. She had a sympathetic look on her eyes.

"Say no more, my dear friend. Your bother shall come to an end. I've met many ponies that prejudice tamed, but you're the first who actually feels ashamed. You said you never talked with one from the zebra tribe, perhaps I can help you to improve your vibe."

He looked at her with awe. She offered her help, and what's more, her friendship to him. This can't all be for granted.

"I... Thank you, Zecora." he finally smiled. His workponies, three certain machines, and a certain pegasus acknowledged this with a content smile as well.

The work went on, and soon, they were approaching the critical point - the area marked to be under Sunnytown's influence. The distance between the line and the zone was incredibly small, and it put the workponies on edge. Cutlass, who knew next to nothing about the cursed place, continued without fuss. Brush and Derek kept their cool, and to their surprise, so did Zecora.

"Aren't you scared?" Fluttershy asked her, but the zebra was busy muttering something to herself. When she noticed that the mare asked something, she stopped, and looked up:

"Did you said something?" she asked, the rhymes now missing from her speech.

"Y-Yes..." the pegasus shuddered "A-Aren't you scared?"

Zecora had a serious look on her face.

"Dear Fluttershy, indeed, there's no fear in me, as things often turn out to be different than what we first see..." she said, making a quick glance at the forecolt.

Halfway through the job, Brush' driver had suddenly and mysteriously taken ill, and had to be carried back. Zecora offered help in lessening his illness, but it was no good, he was far too sick to work, and his condition was growing worse at an alarming rate. So instead, to everyone's surprise, the forecolt asked if SHE wanted to be Brush' driver.

The remedist was reluctant at first, but after a worthy crash course about the controls, she decided to join in, while the forecolt replaced Cutlass' operator - the only other pegasus beside Fluttershy - who took the driver back by flight, as both engines were needed at the moment.

Derek wasn't feeling well, either. His engine had been working great for a surprisingly long time, and this now seemed to be catching up to him.

He coughed and wheezed, and his engine clanked louder and louder with each turn. Eventually, Fluttershy turned him off to cool down, AND to prevent another breakdown bonfire. She may be safe in the cab if such occurs, but then again, no one is safe around Derek when he breaks down. The Class 17 could only mutter his thanks to the pony, as they rested.

Brush and Zecora, on the other hand, were kept busy, now dealing with an increased workload as well, carrying the supplies Derek was supposed to deliver to the building sight. With only tracks available, moving around became tricky, but thankfully, for such reasons, switches were placed between the two lines, so Brush was able to push the empty equipment trucks back, and, when returning, pull the ones loaded with logs and wood away as well. The work went on right in front of Derek's eyes, who felt really useless, and really pathetic indeed. But he had gotten used to that. As they waited for his engines to cool off, they both dozed off, while the building continued. When they woke up, it was late in the afternoon, and the line was already built as far as they could see. Brush came rolling down on the other line, pulling a line of trucks full of broken branches.

"Ah! You're awake!" he smiled, passing by "Then help us out, would ya'?"

Fluttershy cautiously restarted Derek, his motors roaring into life with a neighing wheeze and plumes of thick black smoke, which quickly dispersed. All the noise woke up the still snoozing Angle bunny, who grumpily took a look around. He suddenly spotted something, and, patting Fluttershy's leg, he showed it to the mare.

Derek also noticed it.

"Hello?" he muttered "That's weird."

On the other line, there was a switch with a line leading into a woods. It could be mistaken for dead tracks used to safely derail runaways, but Derek could clearly see them running deep into the woods.

"I wonder where those lead to..." he pondered. So did Fluttershy.

They had completely forgotten where they were, and, after a run around to get onto the other line, they rolled down the siding leading into the darkness, away from the main line.

For some time, they traveled down the shady tracks, plunging deeper into the forest. Derek had no headlights, thanks to his face taking up his front, so all the light they had came from the cab's lamp, which's bulb was flickering badly, clearly near it's expiration.

As they rumbled onward, Angel grew anxious, and after a point, hid under Fluttershy's mane. The mare didn't noticed anything. She seemed to be in some sort of trance, eyes transfixed on the line ahead of them...

Soon, he saw large shapes emerging from the shadows.

"Buildings!" she exclaimed.

The next second, there was a loud bump, and she felt Derek's front drop. She immediately turned the brakes on, but it was no use. With a second bump, Derek's other bogie rolled of the rails as well. At last, Derek himself stopped. The next second, with one last flicker, the bulb went out, shrouding the mare and the rabbit in darkness. Angel was cowering, and hid under the control panel. Fluttershy decided to step out of Derek's cab, and examine what had happened.

It didn't took long to discover to full depth of their situation: Derek had quite literally rolled of the rails, and was now stranded in the soft ground.

The mare looked around, and trotted forward, examining the old buildings. Oddly enough, she felt The Thrill, but she didn't saw any reason to feel like that. All she was half demolished buildings and junk lying about.

But as she walked deeper into what appeared to be a ruined village, memories began to reemerge.

A town.

Ponies.

Blank flanks.

Blanks.

Blanks!

Her train of thoughts was derailed, when she noticed the ground moving in front of her. As it rose up, crumbling, it revealed what appeared to be a hoof...

...In an advanced state of decomposition.

Hyperventilating, Fluttershy began to reverse, as the long-dead creature crawled out of the ground, onto his hooves, and stared at her with dead, empty eyes...

"WhELl, KId..." it spoke, which sounded like smoke rising from a stake, but rather nonchalant at the same time "...wHAt CaN I sAy, yOU toOK yOuR TImE..."

It quickly jumped into role when others began to rise from the ground as well:

...The maaaaark...

...SSShe hasssss the maaaaarrrrk...

...Sssseize heeeerrr...

Fluttershy could bare no more. As the creatures began to surround her, she let out a cry...

That was probably heard from all the way to Canterlot.

Bursting through the horde like a battling ram, she ran towards Derek's direction, before she skidded to a halt.

"No! I can't run to back to him! He's helpless!"

She glanced around... The cursed villagers had her covered.

Nowhere to run!

Nowhere to hide!

A cold flame flared in her eyes, as they focused without an aim, as they took up The Stare. Raising her forelegs, she rose to her hind ones, staring the closest monster in the eye - or what was left of it. It seemed to stun it. It stopped, not grunting or groaning. However, the mare could feel a sickly feeling seeping from it.

Fear.

And she liked it.

She brought her hooves down on the undead creature's head with a force so great, it smashed it's crumbling skull straight into the ground. She didn't stopped there. Taking a quick glance back, her eyes still glowing with a cold light, she glared at the being behind her, before giving an almighty buck.

At least five of them crumbled into nothing, as she continued her rampage. They kept coming, although, now only by the pull of their dark instinct - they themselves reluctant about getting closer than a yard to the pony on berserk.

Rotting legs, broken-off jaws, cracked skulls, busted rib cages flew into the air, along with pieces of rotting meat.

After what felt like hours of battling, the onslaught finally stopped. She stood there, legs and tensed oped, heaving heavily, her glare scrolling the sea of body parts laid out around her. Slowly, she felt a smirk creep onto her face, but she restrained herself. Taking a deep breath, she trotted away from the dead bodies. But as she did, she heard a rustle from behind.

She spun around, then froze.

The corpses rebuilt themselves, and rose from the ground. New cracks were appearing all around here.

She tensed her muscles, even her wings, for the next battle, then looked around.

Ponies.

Dead ponies.

They were coming from everywhere, rising from their long-forgotten graves, pouring out from the dark forest, hissing and growling.

She didn't even know where to turn her head, and all her fears came crushing her down, as she noticed she couldn't even tell where she came from...

Exhausted by the fear and hopelessness, she collapsed to the ground, and waited for the first bite.

But it never came!

She opened her eyes, when a weird zooming sound echoed through the stiffened air, and a large portion of the dead beings was swept aside by a large limb. Two beams of light cut through the darkness, evaporating the blanks, but leaving her unharmed. She recognized them as artificial light. They came from a large, long body that was in the middle of the town, a single, two-sectioned limb extending from his top, now busily flinging the dark beings away, even picking up a few, and crushing it with it's jaw-like end. The mare could have sworn she heard mad, sadistic cackling.

Whatever was that thing, it was intelligent. And enjoying itself.

Shivering, the pegasus ran back towards Derek, illuminated by the light beams, the Thrill pounding within her again. The next second, she heard a horn - and it wasn't Derek's thunderous one!

It was Cutlass! The large machine crashed through the dense row of trees guarding the isolated village with the swiftness of a ballerina. Whooshing pass Fluttershy, he proceeded to mow down the zombies like a pro. The mare wanted to warn him about the other entity, but the long shape had disappeared.

Workponies rushed over to her aid, while Brush was already beginning to pull Derek back on the rails. Cutlass also had his lights on, and with the combined powers of his blades, and the trigger-happy (or more like saw-happy) workponies, the village was soon cleared of it's inhabitants... Along with most of the houses.

Despite his best efforts, Cutlass was still a large machine, and tended to knock things over when moving to hastily. And he was quite hasty right then.

Finally, the area was clear, and Derek was back on the rails again. While most of the workponies where out there, swinging their axes and chainsaw akin to Jack Torrance and Leatherface, a few, more sober and sensible ones were checking Derek and Fluttershy for any damage or injury.

Zecora climbed out the big diesel's cab, and trotted over to the last house. It was more like a hut, and it was, by far, in the best condition, compared to the others... Especially now.

"Hey! Don't go there! It's dangerous!" a mare called out to her, but she didn't seemed to hear. She just kept trotting towards the last house, chanting something, almost inaudibly.

The workponies watched, as the zebra began to utter something on her native language, closing her eyes, as she stopped in front of the half-collapsed porch...

Her words, though incoherent, echoed through their ears, repeating over and over again. It felt like an anthem, that touched their very souls, unveiled their deepest thoughts and beliefs, and rid them from all their worries and bothers. It was the Anthem of Souls.

Fluttershy was the only one who actually saw it.

A ghostly apparition, solidifying in front of the zebra, while the wind picked up. It looked like a pony, dressed in white, or more likely, made of white, as it hovered above the ground, a sorrow look on it's face.

Zecora finally stopped, and opened her eyes.

The ghost looked at her longingly.

"It's alright." she said, her voice becoming softer than it usually was "You're free to go now, Ruby."

The spirit smiled, and the next second, it spiraled into the air, it's form dispersing completely, as a final gush swept across the land, bringing the moaning of trees and the moisture stuck between them, a large, collective sigh of relief of the Everfree Forest.

The phenomenon was followed by a long silence. Nopony dared to speak, not wanting to break the solemnity of the moment.

"Waow. That was some serious spiritual gizmo right there!"

Indeed, nopony.

Cutlass smiled down at Fluttershy.

"You were brave, little pony." he spoke kindly "But you seemed like you need help, so I did!"

"And just in time, by the looks of things!" the forecolt added, leaning out from the machine's cab "You alright there?"

"I think so..." Fluttershy muttered "Did... Cutlass, did you see anything in the center of the village before you started your attack?"

The machine pondered.

"No..." it spoke finally "Beside the zomb-ponies, no-one."

"OK..." the mare exhaled, and fell onto the ground, unconscious.

The ponies fell silent again.

"Don't worry, everyone!" Derek declared "Just put her in my cab, and..."

The next second, with a loud BANG!, his engines burst into smoke, engulfing his body, and smothering the entire area with the thick, gray smog that made everyone cough. As his engines spluttered to a halt, he quietly muttered something in his embarrassment:

"...Or not..."

Episode 7 - "From Wales, with sneer!"

FROM WALES, WITH SNEER!

"And THIS is the before mentioned yard, a marshalling yard, to be specific."

If one would visit the Ponyville Marshalling Yards, he or she would find it a bustling place (well, depending on the time he or she may visit - the vacant hours are around noon and midnight). Workponies are moving about, the yard's shunting engines are arranging the trains, coming and going, around the clock. A place usually busy, it is not uncommon that you'd find many ponies all in one place, moving large mechanical parts, releasing the brakes of trucks, or quite the contrary, switching them on, fastening couplings, or examining rolling stock and machinery alike for any malfunction.

However, there was a group trotting about that was different from the yard's staff, yet, the workponies payed little attention - they were to busy.

Thankfully, Twilight was able to take a break for the morning, and guide the class through the yard for their field trip. With Cheerilee as the tail-ender, the small herd was held together... Well, for that moment, at least.

"Trains from local areas, such as Trottingham, Canterlot, and Manehattan, will come day in and day out, and certain parts of their load doesn't continue with them. So, a few trucks are taken out of the train, and added to another. Sometimes the whole train is dismantled, as each of it's wagons continue from here. Same goes for cross-country passenger trains."

Twilight was sure having fun, explaining things to the foals. Many ponies, including her friends, Cheerilee, and even some of the engines had asked her whether she wants to become a teacher.

Usually, she would merely blush, and dismiss the idea. However, it was times like these when she really felt like reconsidering it...

"Ya done yet? I still got some work to do - no matter how ridiculous that sounds - and you're making me late! Not that I really care, though..."

...Then again, not...

"...And here's one of our diesel locomotives." she spoke now, approaching the jet black Class 08, the foals in tow "His name, quite appropriately, is Diesel."

"'Morning." Diesel grumbled, stubbornly looking away with a frown. The little ponies didn't notice. They were awed by the sight of the engine. Twilight smirked. She had spent the last night scrubbing him down a bit, and now, he looked perfect - not too clean for a working engine, yet, not too dirty. His traction rods and wheels shone in the sunlight, his buffer plates and buffers were cleaned (yes, even behind them!), his ladder, one of the most prominent assets of him (aside from his eyebrows, nose, and the mentioned bulky silver gray traction rods), were free from grime, and his engine purred smoothly, good as new - a strong courtesy of the ever-earnest fitter and Number One Assistant, Spike!

Even Cheerilee herself seemed to be taken by the spirit of things.

Diesel, as predictable, was reluctant and nonchalant, grumbling sullenly.

"Right. Can anyone guess, what kind of engine Diesel is?" the mare asked.

One hoof was instantly up.

"Not you, Apple Bloom, you had already seen him work."

The filly lowered her hoof in disappointment.

"Anyone else?" the purple unicorn asked "Shall we describe him first, to make it easier?"

"It, I mean, HE, is not really big." Snips noted.

"Very observant." Twilight smiled "What else?"

"He's black." said Snails.

"Yes." Twilight smiled "Why do you think is that?"

Silence.

"'Cause... They were out of other paint?" Snails attempted again.

"Nnnot quite..." the unicorn muttered "Anypony else?"

"Oh, COME ON!" Sweetie Belle groaned "Isn't it obvious?!"

"WHAT is?" Cheerilee asked, surprised by the usually quiet filly's outburst.

"He's painted like that because black paint, unlike black dresses, makes the dirt less visible!"

The others were silent. Twilight seemed quite surprised.

"Exactly." Diesel replied instead, amazed "Glad to know at least SOMEone knows about liveries here."

Sweetie Belle looked away sheepishly.

"Not as much as liveries as dress colors. My sister told me that black dresses could hide certain kinds of splodges, though, not every kind..."

"Yeah, that's... That pretty much describes it..." the engine muttered, lost in his thoughts.

"Anything else you would note?" the mare asked again.

Diamond Tiara has been gazing at the engine for some time by now...

"Weeell..." she muttered "He's... Sort of small, and boxy, so I guess he wasn't built for speed, but he looks SOMEWHAT strong..."

"Very good!" Twilight smiled cheerfully. The filly just cast a cocky smirk at the disgruntled CMC.

"You nailed that." Diesel grumbled "I'm not made for speed. I'm made for traction and strength. "

"And you're painted black so that it doesn't really matters if you become dirty..." Silver Spoon went on, pondering "Are you a freight engine?"

"Well, not specifically, but do I work around with trucks all the time. And coaches."

"But you seem a bit small to be pulling trains..." said Twist.

"Size isn't everything, you know..." the engine muttered "I can pull trains just as easily as bigger engines, but not as fast, and perhaps not as far. But with all the work I do here in the yard, I bet I do just as many miles as Old Stuck-Up, for example." he grumbled, casting a glower at the express speeding by on the main line.

"Wait, so you work around in the yard?" Scootaloo asked "Do you ever leave it?"

"Tactical question." Diesel declared "Indeed, I mostly work here in the yard, but some times, I take a small train to nearby stations and yards. I mostly take trucks, as I was not built for pulling passenger trains..."

"So..." Ink Blot muttered "You work around in the yard, with trucks and coaches, but you don't take passenger trains, or longer freight trains, and you're more built for strength than speed..."

"Which means you're..." Sweetie Belle began... All eyes were on her...

"I don't know..." she backed out.

Apple Bloom could take no more.

"OH, FOR PETE'S SAKE!" she hollered "HE'S A SHUNTER!"

"A what?" the rest of the class asked.

"Yes. I am." the Class 08 uttered, surprised by the filly's outburst again.

"What's a shunter, Ms. Sparkle?" Pip asked.

"A shunter, or shunting engine, also known as a switcher, yard pilot or, in rare cases, a shifter, is type of smaller, low-gear engine, either steam, diesel, or electric, that is primarily used to move rolling stock around in short distances, and arrange them into trains."

"Oooooh!" the exclamation rose from the class like a collective moan. Then Snips asked:

"What's low-gear?"

The shunter was quick to reply:

"Low-gear means that I can't go fast, but I can pull trucks very well. Can we go now?! We're already late as it is!"

"Very well!" the mare smiled "Because you'll be demonstrating shunting work, so everypony, ALL ABOARD!"

Diesel deadpanned.

"Reely?" he asked, only to have a film reel hit him straight on the roof after falling out of nowhere "OW! THE HELL?!"

The two mares and the foals just stared at the reel (now slightly dent) as it landed on the ballast beside them. There was a small sticker on it, reading "Night of the Living Dead".

"Inquisitive." Twilight muttered, and levitated it onto an empty oil drum beside the shed wall.

"Anyways... Who's ready to be an engineer?"

And on that cue, a chorus of cheery "Me!"s rose from the class. The unicorn and the earth pony mare exchanged content looks, but the diesel seemed less enthusiastic.

"Twilight, there's NO WAY they could all fit in my cab!"

The purple pony just smirked.

"That's why I called help. GUYS!"

"Help?" Diesel asked back, and glanced to the side.

Rumbling lowly, a cleaned and polished 'Arry and Bert stopped beside him. Their paintwork was brand new, a darker, green-tinted BR Freight Gray paint on the body, aside from the yellow stripe going along the side in the level of the cab windows (the words "BARROW IRONWORKS" had been painted off from it), the cab itself also being yellow, now both of them sporting a two-tone (black and gray) British Rail symbol. The only thing that remained unpainted were their wheels, traction rods, buffers and buffer plates: still black with dirt and grime. Moreover, 'Arry stubble had been shaved into a subtle soul patch that extended over onto his chin, while Bert still had a five o'clock shadow. They carried an impression of strength incomparable with Diesel.

"Oh." the shunter exclaimed "THIS'LL be a disaster-tour!"

After an... Eventful shunting crash course through the yard, in which they managed to arrange ten trains (as opposed to the daily seven), with the help of foals and a teacher with no profession in this sort of work, the class and the two mares have arrived onto one of the platforms. It was long and narrow, and had little decoration.

"And this is our main goods platform. All freight trains stop here, or at our secondary platform behind the building. Now Ponyville itself may not be an important stop, but many trains pass here, most of which has to depart with less loads. We arrange it in the marshalling yard, and another train picks up the right trucks. Same goes for some passenger trains. All in all, we're kept busy, and this yard is working twenty-four hours a day. It's hard work, and..."

"...That's why I'm here right now!" a voice interrupted.

They all looked up, surprised.

At the end of the platform stood a soaring tall figure, wearing a dark blue railwaymen coat, dark trousers, sharp black shoes with triangle-based soles, and a black peaked cap with the Equestrian Rail symbol on it's front. He was tall and humanoid, yet simplified: a perfectly round head, no ears or nose, trapeze-shaped eyes with black irises, wide shoulders and the upper torso narrowing towards the waist, making a triangle shape again, legs (or, at least the trousers) widening towards the feet clad in the sizable shoes. His arms were like that, too: widening towards the hand, his fingers long and sharp, like claws. But his eyes showed peace and long eons of experience. He smiled gently at them, eyes quickly returning to the clipboard he was writing into. He was tall, even by Equestrian standards: he probably towered over Princess Celestia herself... Well, if you call ten inches "towering over".

He finished writing, and returned to the crowd, now spotting a smile as well.

"Alexei!" Twilight cheered, and galloped towards the deity. But then, she skidded to a halt, as the foals and Cheerilee caught up with her.

"Excuse me..." she muttered "I mean, Mr. Alexei!" he was her superior after all. But the god smiled, ever so kindly.

"It's very nice to meet you, Ms. Sparkle." he addressed her, then looked at the class and Cheerilee.

"And who may I respect in your persons?" he bowed to them slightly.

"I'm Cheerilee." the Fandango and Red-violet mare replied "And this is the class."

One by one, the colts and fillies introduced themselves.

The god listened carefully, then replied.

"Well, my name is Alexei. I'm the controller of the railway, and..."

"Wait, so YOU own the railway?" Diamond Tiara asked.

"No, that's Princess Celestia." the figure replied "She's the Chairmare. She takes care of the financial stuff and the demands. Princess Luna is the director. She's a bit like you there, Ms. Sparkle: she LOVES to organize, and does it pretty damn well, I may ad."

Twilight blushed. Alexei went on.

"And I'm the controller. I carry out things, and I'm intent on keeping this railway ship-shaped, up-to-date, well, by Equestrian standards, anyway, and make everything go like clockwork."

"Excuse me..." Silver Spoon interrupted "What was your name again?"

"Oh..." he replied "It's Alexei."

"...Funny name..." the gray filly muttered.

"Well, it IS foreign." the figure admitted "I mean, I'm not even from this world..."

"What?!" the foals were stunned. The controller grinned.

"Why... I am, pretty much like your princesses, a deity."

"A what?" Snails asked.

"A deity." Sweetie Belle explained rhetorically "An immortal or longevous being, who can hardly be injured or fall ill, and possessed great powers. A god or demigod, basically."

The others just stared.

"What?" the filly asked, as Scootaloo scuttled close to her.

"You went total dictionary again..." she whispered. Sweetie blushed, and looked sheepishly away.

"Anyways..." Alexei went on "The Royal Industrial Inspector is Prince Blueblood, but he's busy visiting another province at the moment, that's why I'm here, and..."

"Hang on, so all the royals are involved with the operation of the railway?" Cheerilee asked, a bit surprised.

"Well, Princess Cadence isn't, she's busy otherwise." the deity explained "But yeah, the Princesses, ME... It is a fully nationalized company after all..."

"Nationalized?" Snips asked.

"Owned by the state." Sweetie explained, then blushed, and looked away.

"If only you could do this during tests..." her teacher muttered.

"Anyways, it's the same in every province of the Equestrian Federal Monarchy." Alexei went on "The county leaderboard of the Western region, the supreme kollies in Stalliongrad Oblast, the congress of Phillydelphia, and even in some countries of the Europonian Union. We all look into the railway's well-being, as the economy is pretty much dependent on it."

"Right... Well..." Twilight seemed a bit disoriented after the onslaught of information "Rail transport isn't only made of goods stations. There are passenger trains as well. But first, we'll be visiting one of our near-by freight contractors, to see how the railway helps the market." she said, pointing a hoof at the other platform. Spamcan stood there, with Applejack beside him, waving at the crowd. Behind the now moderately dirty engine was a row of vans, waiting to be delivered to Sweet Apple Acres. But right behind the diesel was old, open-topped carriage.

"I guess... Applejack would be taking over from here..." Alexei smirked.

"Yes!" the lavender unicorn replied "Let's trot over, shall we?"

As the foals boarded the open carriage, Cheerilee glanced at the sky.

"I hope it wouldn't rain." she spoke "This coach doesn't provides much shelter."

"Oh don't worry, I'm sure Rainbow Dash has taken care of that." Twilight smiled, and looked up as well. Indeed, there were no clouds on the sky, and the late spring sun was shining brightly.

"I haven't seen Rainbow Dash since about a week by now..." the Fandango mare added "Is she alright?"

"I... Don't... Know..." Twilight muttered, thinking back "I haven't seen her for days, either..."

"She dis'ppea'd afte' we gave 'er a buc'e' kic'in' 'bou' 'er be'avio'..." Spamcan spoke up.

"Bucket-kicking?" Scootaloo asked in alarm.

"We told 'er off." Applejack replied "Le's say, she wasn't re'lly bein' in her element that day..."

"Element? You don't mean..." Scootaloo was bewildered "She was... Disloyal?"

"...Quite..." Twilight admitted on a bitter tone "She ditched Pinkie Pie when she had put herself in an awkward predicament in favor of supporting Gilda."

"But wasn't she doing that out of loyalty towards Gilda?" the orange filly asked, with little hope.

"She did the exact opposite nearly a year ago." the lavender unicorn replied "She was just switching sides now. I'm sorry, Scootaloo..." she finished, lowering her head.

The little pegasus just slumped onto the carriage's floor with a tristful look. Her friends came to her aid, while the two snobbish fillies just snickered on her misfortune. Twist frowned, and was about to scold the two bullies, when something caught her eye.

"Hey... What's that?" she asked, pointing into the distance. The others followed her hoof, and saw it... Whatever it was...

It was hard to describe...

From that distance, it looked like a lump of cleverly positioned scrap metal. But there was something peculiar about it.

"Oh, that..." Alexei muttered, looking at the weird object "That thing has a history. Do you have any time?"

"...Sure." Applejack replied, getting herself comfortable. So did the others.

"It's not that much of a long story..." the figure admitted "A few days ago, I ventured back into the home world of the engines, planet Earth. I was there for a reason. In the country of Wales - I think that's Wells in this world - on it's top, left-hand corner, there was a small, private railway that was under closure, and many items of it were on auction. An old, eccentric lady owned it, who was very wealthy, and after her death, the railway inherited her fortune. There was also a small income that came from a gold mine in the near-by mountains, very rich, but it's owner, an aged man, had kept it a secret to prevent a gold rush."

He paused, briefly.

"I originally went there to buy the steam engine that worked on that railway, a small, green tank engine. It was a special sort: it's whistle has been replaced by steam organ pipes, giving it the ability to "sing". I didn't managed to buy him, but I was glad when I heard that a preservation society did. However, there was something else that caught my eye instead. It was among the many cachectic rolling stock, and for a long time, I took no notice of it - the only thing rumored to be "alive" on this railway was the steam engine, but that was in good hands."

He took a long look at the object himself, before turning back to the class

"But as the auction progressed, I noticed that... No-one picked that lump of scrap. As more and more stuff was taken away, I could recognize parts of the thing more easier. I asked a salesman, and he told me that the object in question was once something that once vaguely resembled a locomotive. It was a makeshift vehicle that was built out of bits and bobs, when the steam engine of the railway was apparently sent away. They towed it out from the lake near the gold mine. It was a loop of thoughts, but I bought it. So, it's here now."

"What are ya gonna do with it?" Apple Bloom asked. The god seemed to be lost is his thoughts for a moment.

"I'll try to repair it, and I may get help from the Princesses." he spoke, surprising the others "After all, with all the diesels around, it's best they learn how an internal combustion engine works..."

As the train rumbled down the track, the three fillies kept pondering. The others were chatting about the next stop of their tour, but they were preoccupied with something.

"You know..." Scootaloo began "These new machines only give us more possibilities."

"Yeah, I was thinkin' 'bout the same thang!" Apple Bloom added "Remember what Mr. Alexei said 'bout the princesses needin' to learn how ta fix an internal combuster engine?"

"Internal combusTION engine!" Sweetie Belle frowned "We might as well try it our self!"

"Now there's an idea!" the young applefarmer cheered "Mah sister works with Spamcan, yer sister works with Old Stuck-Up, an' Twilight works with Diesel!"

"And Spike!" Scootaloo added "Don't forget Spike! He's the fitter of the engines!"

"They'll sure be able to teach us!" Sweetie smiled brightly.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Apple Bloom grinned, and the three jumped up.

"Cutie Mark Crusaders Engineers YAY!" and they clapped hooves.

Cheerilee, who had heard it all, only sighed, and gave a knowing smile.

"This'll be interesting." she thought "At least, they'll be turning to the right ponies."

"So, where is this... "Juggernaut" of yours?" the princess of the night asked.

"Around this shed... Here!" he said, opening his arms, and showing them... It...

It was hard to describe what it was.

"Just what is this?" Celestia asked.

"A makeshift diesel railway engine." Alexei explained.

"A diesel engine? THIS?!" Luna replied, bewildered by the sight, though the term "makeshift" was PRETTY MUCH an understatement. It was hard to describe it, even after the many machines the royal sisters have seen in the pass few months. Even Alexei's road vehicle photo collection proved to be useful in this case.

As for the... THING in front of them, well, it was hard to decide what it really was.

For starters, it was incredibly corroded, and looked close to falling apart on it's own.

"Is it even worth to try?" the solar goddess asked "It's rustier than our oldest armor in the Royal Museum."

"EVERYTHING'S worth at least ONE try..." the foreign god replied, and with a flick of his finger, the oxidation was peeled of from the machine, the now thinned metal parts thickening back into their original size... It was still unpainted and the uncovered metal was dull. The princesses could still hardly comprehend the object before them... At least, they could recognize parts of it...

It was a mish-mash, standing weakly on four flanged wheels, large part of it was made of an old crank-starter lorry (the handle still in it's place), with flatbed made out of another machinery part, makeshift as well. An uncovered drive-shaft was dangling between the wheels, and the cab was missing it's doors and windows. It had buffers, they looked like they belonged to an old carriage - they were long long and flimsy. The motor itself barely covered, as the side doors of the engine blocks were missing as well.

If the patchwork machination had any lamps, they had been broken off. It was in dismal state, even without the layers of grime, rust, and cheap paint.

"Alright... Where do we begin?" Celestia asked, eager to begin, now that she could make out what they were "up against".

"Well, first of all..." the figure began, taking off his coat "We'll take it apart, and try to figure out what makes it go... What MADE it go..." he corrected himself.

"Oh, that's easy!" Luna snickered "We'll just POKE it and it'll fall apart."

"Luna, we have to do this professionally!" he sister scolded her. The god just laughed. It was going to be an interesting day...

After they took it apart (with more and less success), the figure overlooked the parts laid out before them, and sighed...

"This isn't good... Everything in it's motor is damaged beyond repair."

It's pistons are stiff as sculptures, and the cylinders and the radiator was cracked, the camshaft itself was held together by the crank's rod, the fuel tank had completely disappeared, and the exhaust pipe had rotten apart. The chassis and the body seemed to be and easy job, only a few dents left after the decorrosion spell.

Alexei was surprised to find out that the chassis was made of stainless steel.

"At least, this thing has a low center of gravity." he muttered.

"And that's good, right?" the elder princess asked, using her magic to rub the grime off from it.

"Yes indeed. There's less chance that this thing would topple over."

The undercarriage was in relatively good condition. The drive shaft just needed a bit of readjustment, and the flanged wheels were easy to replace. But the axle's were rusted stuck. They actually had to chisel them out from the suspension to replace them. They were surprised (or, at least Alexei was), when they examined the suspension.

"Leaf springs?" he exclaimed "This thing is ANCIENT!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Luna scoffed "Most of our modern and up-to-date carriages use..." it dawned to her "Leaf... Spring... Suspension... Oh..."

After long hours of juggling with the parts, spare parts and tools, something modestly resembling a rail lorry was pushed out onto the sunlight.

They made some final adjustments out in the open. It was still unpainted and had dents and rough welding here and there, but they had already done a lot. Fortunately for the three deities, the engine block was still intact.

As they made their last checks, Diesel, who was shunting near by, pulled up beside them. He eyed up the machine, and the trio working on it. Both Celestia and Luna tied their hairs and manes into ponytails - Celestia even tied them into a knot - and their fur was stained with sweat and grease... Alexei was now wearing some old, ripped jeans and a white shirt, both covered in dust and oil splodges. He had taken off his hat revealing his perfectly round head.

"Just WHAT on Earth is THAT?" Diesel asked, casting a scornful look at the machination.

"Oh..." the god looked up "It's a Juggernaut."

"A 'juggernaut'? THIS?!" the shunter grumbled "Don't fool yourself, your majesties."

"It does look kinda small and feeble to fit something of that description." Twilight admitted quietly, not wanting to belittle the work of her mentor and her friends.

"That may be..." the foreign god replied, wiping his forehead "But that was the exact name they told me about it. Nothing more, aside from the fact that they've fished it out from the bottom of a lake."

"Yeah, I could've guessed." the shunter growled.

"But anyways, back to work, Diesel." Celestia goaded him "You have an agreement to keep, remember?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I do..." the Class 08 groaned "Well, if you're intent on playing 'Bodgy Builder' for the next few weeks, I'm not going to be the one to spoil your "fun"... Toot toot, good luck!" and with that, he oiled away.

"Well, we're actually intent on fixing this... Thingamajig!" the younger princess shouted after the engine, clearly frustrated.

"Don't let him bother you." Alexei soothed her "He's just being Diesel. Bastard at best."

"He's just a bitter sort, Lulu, pay no heed to him..." her sister added, gently nudging her "Anyways, we better get things started."

"Yes indeed." the god added "Do you want to be the first, Luna?"

"First what?"

"First one behind the controls..."

"Meee?" the dark blue alicorn stammered, and cast an intimidated glance at Juggernaut "I don't think so..."

"Are you scared, dear sister?" Celestia chuckled "Oh well, then I'll be the first." and with that, she climbed into the cab, putting a hoof on the throttle (once the crank of a bus' destination blind), and the other on the brakes (a reinforced Trabant gear stick). There was also a third, rather large lever, awfully close to the seat (once the backseat of a school bus). That was the reverser, but now, it was left in neutral.

The dashboard/control panel was devoid of any tachometer or speedometer.

Not aware of the awkwardness of the controls and the lack of safety displays, the Princess called out:

"OK, you can start it!"

Luna subtly took a few steps back, as Alexei bent down, and started to turn the handle. After a few idling rounds, he heard a clank, and suddenly found the crank harder to move... With a few swift turns and rambunctious clanking, the old motor banged to life, rattling fiercely.

"'Eeeey!" the god cheered, nearly avoiding getting a mouthful of soot from the motor.

"Huzzah!" Luna cried out, nearly jumping in her joy.

Celestia smiled.

Then...

There was a loud BANG!

A thick plume of smoke shot out from the tall exhaust pipe going along the cab's frame.

A further BANG!

The engine began to splutter and spew smoke, then, after a few thumping rounds, it stopped altogether, smog pouring out from the motor.

Coughing, Luna quickly trotted out of the smoke's path, walking up next to Alexei, the latter already holding fire extinguisher. They were soon joined by a sooty Celestia, and kept staring at the fumigating machine, feeling distraught...

After the smoke gone out, they inspected the damage. There wasn't much, but the motor need replacements yet again... With a sight, they pushed it back into the small shed.

"Oh well... Better luck next time." The sun princess smiled optimistically.

"So... Tomorrow, back here?" the god asked.

"Yes. Same time." the lunar goddess added.

So they came back next day.

And the day after that.

AND the day AFTER that.

The week was drawing to it's end, and their progress was little.

The second day, the same had happened: after an initially successful start-up, the machine spluttered to a halt.
The third day, it boiled over - the radiator hose had melted!

On the fourth day, they couldn't even start it. No matter how they clamped and tinkered, it just wouldn't budge.

The Princesses and the controller were growing tired of the "antics" of the machine.

"I can't believe it..." Alexei growled on the fourth afternoon "We're bloody immortal, god-like beings, who had lived for flippin' EONS, and we're not able to fix a soddy, secondhand, patchwork diesel!"

"Maybe it's not us..." Luna pondered "Maybe it's the machine. We're certainly trying our best to fix the cursed thing." she added, glaring at the machine kicking the frame of which sent a shudder across the contraption.

CoBo and Gilda, who had been resting near by, and had been listening to the curses and swears of the three deities, exchanged looks.

"I honestly don't know, why are you bothering with that old pile of scrap, your highness..." the Class 28 spoke "It's hopeless!"

"Hey, those workmen back in Britain spent time to fix ya, and THEY managed!" the god snapped at him "Everybody else thought you were hopeless as well! But those few men had faith! Without them, you wouldn't be here!"

CoBo pondered.

"True..." he admitted "But I don't give a damn. That's the past. Besides, THAT thing is far more older a shabbier than I was. But, whatever suits your fancy." he added, after seeing the glares of the three godly beings, albeit still nonchalantly.

"Perhaps..." Gilda spoke up "Perhaps... You should check the gas?"

The two alicorns deadpanned, while a dismayed look spread across the figure's face... Slowly, he squatted down, next to the cap of the fuel tank, and removed it, the two alicorns leaning down beside him. After peeking into the tank, he knocked on it's side.

Dry as desert...

Very slowly, they rose up, a derp look on Luna's face, while the elder sister's pupils shrunk, her left eye twitching.

SLAP!

A hand flew into Alexei's face. It was his own, as he gave a long, tired sigh under his facepalm...

"I regenerated too many times for this shit..." he muttered.

"Glad to be at your service!" the diesel called out, and rumbled away.

After refilling the tank, they cranked it up, the same clanking following, but the engine kept rattling steadily now.

The three gave a nod of approval.

"Alright." Alexei muttered "Let's give this baby a go."

"Baby?" the Princess of the Night asked "Don't you mean, "old fart"?"

The figure and the Princess of the Day smirked.

"Yeah, I guess we could say that..." he replied. They all climbed in, with the foreign good taking place behind the controls. They were on the right side, like how the steering wheel is on British vehicles. He released the brakes (the Trabant gear stick being suspiciously wonky), and set the pushed the throttle forward.

Nothing happened.

Then engine was revving loudly, the tall exhaust pipe shaking with every backfire, but they weren't moving.

"It's still in neutral." Celestia pointed it out, and moved the large level forward.

With a jolt, Juggernaut shot forward.

After the initial surprise, the three laboring immortals were quick to enjoy their success.

"Bless my word, Alex, it's working!" Celestia cried "We're actually moving!"

"And fast, too!" Luna added happily. They weren't moving that fast - scraping 40 km/h from the bottom - but it was progress.

"Nothing can stop us now!" the younger sister added. Slowly, Alexei turned towards her, a horrified look plastered on his face. No sooner had Luna finished her sentence, there was a loud CLANK! The front of the machine jumped up, then came crashing down, the front now lower and oddly leaning to the side.

Glancing out, they saw the reason why: they've lost a wheel.

Mentally exhausted, Alexei leaned onto the dashboard/control panel, cowering his face with his folded arms. One would think he was weeping. The two princesses were clear that he was actually trying to cover up the tidal wave of swears that burst out of his mouth like lava from a volcano - his attempts of subtly covering it up all in vain.

Celestia cast a tired glance at her sister.

"Jinx." was all she said. Luna looked away, very embarrassed.

"As they said..." the controller muttered "Nothing can sink this ship, except 'CRASH' an iceberg..."

"Did they really said it like that?" Celestia asked.

"Were you on the Titanic?" the god grumbled back.

"No..."

"Then shut your face..."

It was the fifth day's afternoon, when they decided they'll get professional help: they called Spike.

"I'm not sure, Princess..." the baby dragon admitted "I'm only a fitter, not an inspector."

"An inspector is nothing more than a fitter who forgot HOW to fix an engine with his hooves, but remembers all the nitpicks." Celestia smirked "You actually KNOW how to work with your hands, so you'll be a splendid inspector!"

"...If you say so." Spike replied "Now, where's that enginuuueeeehh-WHAT?!"

He couldn't believe his eyes.

"What on Equestria is THAT?!" he gasped.

"A Juggernaut." Luna replied innocently.

"A what-a-nut?"

Alexei sighed.

"It's a bloody lorry on flanged wheels."

Spike deadpanned.

"Still don't get it."

"A makeshift diesel!" the three deities snapped.

"Oh. Oooh! OK, I can see that, sheesh!"

After climbing in - or on, as Spike and Luna decided to travel on the machines' flat bed.

After a few crank turns, the engine started up with it's usual ear splitting rattle.

"Now THAT already doesn't sounds good..." the dragon muttered.

"It has been rotting in the bottom of a lake for roughly seventy years by now, what did you expect?" Luna asked sarcastically.

"I don't think it has legit green-card..." Alexei added.

"I doubt it'll even GET one, with THESE emission levels..." Spike put in, pointing at the fumigating exhaust pipe.

"Well, anyway, let's have a test run, shouldn't we?"

Setting the lever into 'forward', they started with a jerk, but then moved on steadily.

After a bit of run around the yard - in which Princess Celestia discovered how inconvenient was the placement of the reverser lever, as whenever it was put in reverse, the truck-gear-stick-sized thing was pushed painfully into her groin - they were allowed to go on the main line (mainly because the two princesses, AND the controller was on the vehicle).

They trundled down the line, leaving half a yard length of smoke in trail, giving anyone near by a coughing spree.

After an unknown pony tossed a horseshoe at them, they sped the machination up, and roared away, leaving a literal cloud of smog.

Up in Pyker's Peak, the mine was busy as usual.

They were in the middle of work, when suddenly, a brassy horn cut through the air, shaking it. Everyone stopped.

There was a strange noise coming from the distance.

"What a queer sound..." a workpony remarked.

"Sounds like a diesel choking to death." an electric engine, a large and bulky one remarked.

"Yes, on a burning electric's fumes." came the reply from the other party with a sneer.

The horn went off again, this time, louder, as it's source was drawing nearer.

"What the..." one of the miners uttered...

Roaring (or more like spluttering) into the yard came Juggernaut, spewing smoke as usual, clattering into the yard on the standard gauge tracks, screeching to a halt with a painfully long break distance.

Stepping out of it was none other than Princess Celestia herself, in all her... Workmare... Glory?

Her usual golden horseshoes were replaced by comfortable Kevlar workshoes, her regal kerchief not present at all, her crown discarded into her saddlebags (nothing special, just some old, alicorn-size brown school saddlebags), her aethereal mane and tail tied in ponytails, and her fur having just the slightest hint of dust on it, here and there...

She was joined by Princess Luna, in a similar attire, but she actually had a red neckerchief around her neck.

The miners and workers were stunned. Then, one by one, their pupils turned into hearts, as their own hearts started to beat twice as fast - one for them, one for the princesses.

Needless to say, quite a few hard-working stallions found their long-lost faith in the monarchy - or, at least, the diarchs - which only increased, when a month later, Prince Blueblood gave the sack to their egoistic and pompous trade union leader, and they could FINALLY select someone more suitable for the job.

"OK... We'll have. To fix. The brakes." Alexei muttered slowly, as he climbed out as well. "That was terrible!"

"Yeah..." Celestia added "It had been a long time since I actually felt mortal fear... But, it's still the same, as I remember it..."

"Why, what did your remember about it?" Luna asked.

"That I didn't like it." her sister replied with a grimace "Not at all."

"Well, I'm glad that at we finally stopped." Spike exhaled "I'm going to take a nap now." and with that, he climbed back onto the flatbed, falling asleep almost instantly. He was soon joined by an equally tired Luna (hey, she does night shifts, OK?).

"We wish to speak with your manager." Celestia announced.

"COmInG!" said a croaky voice, that made the two awake deities wince.

Looking around a bit further, they found the source: coming from the highest window of a run-down looking, old-fashioned red brick office building, where a dented and wonky loud-hailer was poking out... Soon enough, the voice behind it - an incredibly agile old stallion with a knee-reaching white beard and sinew-reaching white mane came running towards them, a dented, scraped mining helmet on his lamp with a cracked lamp, his orange, light-reflecting working vest carrying the Miner's Guild emblem: a golden horseshoe on the silhouette of a hoof, with a pickaxe diagonally placed on it. His cutie-mark was similar: a diagonal pickaxe, but this one had a diamond blade, and it was laid across a crate of TNT, all clearly displayed on his Apricot flanks, his tail cut short and braided at it's very beginning - a tradition of dwarven ponies. Yet, he couldn't be a dwarf, or at least, not a full-blooded one: he was rather tall and skinny, but that might have been because of his old age, plus, many great dwarfs were known to be rather large. Not just tall, but LARGE, all over - like giants!

He galloped over to them.

"Good dy, Princess!" he called out to them "Wha' brin's you 'ere?"

"Good day, Magnus!" Celestia replied with a smile "And nothing in particular. Just trying out our dismal attempts in engineering."

Magnus' eyes widened.

"Re'lly?" he asked, and looked pass the two immortal, when his eyes squinted, and he pulled his head back "Is THAT thing behind you the fruit of your attempts?"

"Yes." Alexei replied "It's called Juggernaut. We managed to fix it up, somewhat. This thing had been rotting deep in the bottom of a lake, and it wasn't in the best condition to begin with, being made out of odds and ends..." he explained, not noticing an ominous creaking sound from behind.

"Right..." the old miner replied "Say, what are the brakes are on this... Jugge'naut of yours?"

"Horrid." Celestia laughed, shaking a hoof in a dismissing motion.

"I can see that..." Magnus chuckled "It's running away!"

"WHAT?!" the two gasped, and turned around, finally hearing the creaking. Juggernaut was indeed fleeing, after the brakes failed completely, altogether.

"OI! STOP! SLAM ON THE BRAKES!" Alexei yelled, running after the machine, rather stupidly: he could of teleported into it, making things much easier for the future, but then again, this was a sudden situation, and one cannot always cope with things quickly. Besides, we'll need this twist later for plot development.

"I can' 'ear ya, lad! It isn't alive!" the old stallion laughed.

"But it'll crash!" Celestia gasped.

"Yah can bet it will!" Magnus replied between two laughs "Derail at the corner, and fall, rrright into the ditch!" he guffawed.

"But Luna and Spike! They were sleeping on the flatbed!" the controller exclaimed.

"Oh." Magnus wasn't laughing anymore.

"They'll be seriously injured if that thing crashes!" the princess added, getting closer to panic.

"Oh, dear..." the miner uttered, now very worried himself.

"Oh, where's that trumpet?" Alexei spoke, searching under his coat furiously.

"What trumpet?" the stallion asked.

"AHA! Here it is!" the god exclaimed victoriously, pulling out a small, red funnel.

"THAT'S a trumpet?" a workpony asked. Alexei inhaled deeply, and gave it a blow. It sounded exactly like an elephant with a runny nose.

"They'll never hear that!" Celestia groaned.

"Oh, Spike will!" the god replied "He's a dragon!" and he blew the horn again.

Back on the flatbed, Spike was woken by a peculiar buzz in his ears. Fins. Whatever he has!

"Huh... Wha'?" he mumbled, looking around sleepily, yawning. He stopped, mouth still open, as his eyes opened wide as well. The scenery was rapidly passing by - faster than what they recorded as Juggernaut's top speed. Suspecting trouble, he peeked into the cab - and found NOPONY!

Scared, he began to shook the Princess of the Night.

"Ah! There they go!" exhaled the controller with relief, as the silhouette of the alicorn became visible in the sky.

"A-And there goes your... JUGGERNAUT!" Magnus guffawed, pointing forward.

As he predicted, once the machination reached the bend, it's rear wheels tore off, and dragged the rest along. Near the bend was the cliff, and one hundred meters below, a muddy ditch...

As it rolled over the the edge, it flipped around, nose facing the swamps below...

It took two hours to get back to the shed...

Spike hopped off, followed by three tired deities.

Celestia trotted a bit further, looking at the ground with sorrow in her eyes. Slowly, she turned her head back.

Juggernaut was drenched in mud, it's front totaled, the engine wheezing all the way and leaking oil badly, the wheels loose, and the entire construct looked like it was sent through a concrete mixer a couple of times.

"Well... That's that then..." Alexei muttered flatly. Luna's head hung low, her eyes closed. Those many hours... Wasted away...

"We'll come back tomorrow, and see if there's anything we could use as spares, then..." the god took a deep breath "I'll guess we'll have to scrap it...

The Solar goddess just nodded.

They all began to walk away, but Luna stopped, hesitating. She turned her head back at the destroyed machine, and sighed.

"Well, goodbye, Juggernaut." she muttered "Sad it has to end like this... You could've been such a useful engine.."
.
The lorry, of course, didn't reply, and the younger princess trotted away silently...

It was the end, really... The engine block had cracked, and there was little hope in finding a fitting new one.

Plus, they've lost their motivation. Fixing the machine with magic wasn't really in the spirit of things, given the fact that the Princesses were supposed to learn how to FIX it with tools. And in longer terms, using magic to fix mechanical objects wasn't exactly favorable: the metal, similar to a paperclip bent back and forth too many times, will eventually weaken and break.
A few workponies pushed the wrecked machine back into the shed, and closed it's doors.

That night was restless. Clouds kept covering the moon, and the wind blew constantly in rapid, strong breezes, making ponies uneasy.

Even the moon itself shone eerily that night, Princess Luna herself felt beside herself in the courtrooms, unable to think clear.

Back in the old shed, the light of the princess' celestial body hit the destroyed Juggernaut in a peculiar way. His entire form was enveloped in the light, suddenly starting to glow by itself. It's dents smoothed, it's broken parts were mended, and pieces of it, believed to be lost to time and erosion, reappeared. An new coat of paint covered the mended machination, and from the depths of what seemed like existence itself, a deep inhale wheezed - the first breath of a soul...

Gentle, yet very audible snoring filled the slightly stiff air in the old shed.

The next morning, the three deities walked up to the shed, once again.

Neither of them spoke. They were all loss for words, deep in thought... Celestia was considering their efforts spent on fixing the patchwork machine, and trying to find a place of these efforts. What where they exactly doing? Trying to fix a broken machine? Or trying to wake the dead? Trying to bring a soulless, or more likely ALREADY DEAD (back) object to life? She couldn't decide...

Luna, who didn't had that much meetings during the night, decided to play a game on the machines that Alexei lent her, what he recalled a "television" and a "video game console". Soon, she found herself playing the "Earthbound/Mother" series through the larger part of the night, and, after her sister took over, as the morning began, she found herself suffering from intervals of self-inducted insomnia and deranged, lucid dreams...

Needless to say, she didn't exactly looked "alright". The others noticed that as well...

"Are you alright Luna?" her sister asked, to which she didn't reacted.

"Yeah, you look like you've seen..." Alexei pondered "I don't know, Giygas itself..."

Luna's eyes opened wide. Dangerously wide.

In fact, the others could see a red rim on the very edge of his eyelids, where the eyeballs joined to the muscles. Her irises and pupils had shrunk into dots, and a downright horrified became present on her face. Very slowly, with significant shaking, she turned her dilated eyes towards her sister and colleague, her head following with a bit of delay. The others took a step back, and Alexei could swore he heard Giygas' theme from the very edge of his consciousness, but slowed down by 800%.

Celestia would've swore to, but she knew next to nothing about Giygas.

Yet...

"Don't... Mention... That name...." Luna uttered. She didn't seemed to be breathing at that moment.

"Okay..." Celestia whispered. followed by a nod from the humanoid.

Luna slowly turned her head and eyes away from them, as the eerie ambiance of before-mentioned video game hell spawn's theme became audible. Or, at least, that's what they thought...

"Well, anyways!" Celestia spoke up with a bright smile, the traumatic atmosphere dispersing quickly "We got a lump of scrap to dismantle, so let's get to it!"

The others smiled as well and agreed, most glad that the disturbing feeling had disappeared.

Alexei, being the only one out of the three who had arms, flung the doors wide open.

And the disturbia returned, but in a much lighter edition.

"Bore da!" it said.

The three immortals stared. And blinked.

"Uuuuhh... Bore da?" Alexei replied, surprised to hear the Welsh greeting.

There was a long pause...

"Well... This is... Unexpected..." the Sun's Princess spoke.

Before them stood Juggernaut, repaired and repainted (in an ugly green color, but whatever), with glass in his windows, and two headlamps secured to the sides of his windshield's frame. His engine seemed brand new (as the side of it's hood's door was still missing - so were his cab doors. He looked fine, otherwise - more than fine, actually.

He now had a face.

In the place of the bent and broken grids of his radiator cover was a rectangle, gray face, very wrinkled, with an incredibly big and neatly combed, white Walrus mustache, and, sitting on the bridge of a celestial nose were two glass tubes with dots on their visible end, the other hidden between the folds of the face's wrinkles.

"Wow... Those are some major glasses." the god exclaimed. Juggernaut just mumbled something incoherent, the dots on his glasses lowering onto the bottom of the gray circle of the tube's end, flattening out into lines, as the aged machine dozed off.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise." Celestia smiled.

"How so?" Luna asked.

"Well, for starters..." the elder sister began "He seems to be in a much better condition now. I'm not sure how, but..." she shook her head.

"The point is, he's alive now, so I guess he'll be MORE than willing to stay like that." Alexei added.

Just then, the machine emitted a loud snore that shook the entire shed...

"Point taken." Luna uttered.

They towed him out in front of the shed, and examined him in the early afternoon sunlight.

"Seems fine to me." the controller declared "But it's best we call Spike. I'll go get him. You girls should get something to eat. I heard the canteen is really good here."

"Alright." the Princess of the Day smiled "Of we go then!"

"To conquer the land of gourmet delight!" Luna declared in an adventurous manner. Her sister just chuckled, and their friend merely smiled. They left, leaving the dozing rail lorry out in the fresh air and sunlight.

Not a clever move, in retrospect.

A good twenty minutes later, all three of them returned, now joined by the dragonling.

"...So ya really made come to life? Wow!" Spike was excited "That's awesome! Can't wait to meet it, errr, him!"

"Well, it wasn't exactly us..." Alexei muttered, scratching his head "Anyways, we might do a few modifications on it, as it still seems weak... Well, then again, a rail lorry wasn't built to be strong or anything."

They stopped beside the two princesses, who kept staring forward.

"Hey, were back and..." he stopped, when he noticed the look in their eyes.

"What's up?"

"Uhhh... Sir?" Spike muttered "Where's Juggernaut?"

The god stopped dead in his tracks, and looked forward.

The machination was nowhere to be seen.

"Hmmmm... Seems like he left..." the dragon stated.

"He couldn't have left!" Celestia snapped "He didn't had anyone to drive him!"

The others simple cast her ah incredulous, bemused look.

"Oh... Right..." she muttered, remembering the fact the engines could indeed, somehow, drive themselves. But she also remembered something else.

"But he was sleeping!"

"A sleepwalker perhaps?" Luna shrugged.

"More like sleeproller!" the god grunted. Spike's eyes suddenly widened.

"I think I know where he is." he muttered.

The others turned towards him.

"You do?" Luna asked. The dragon nodded.

"You do know that the tracks to Appleloosa are under repair?" he asked.

"Yes." Alexei replied "The old rails are far to weak to hold the weight of the new engines and rolling stock that use it."

"Yeah. If anything - anyone - would want to get through there, they would need a very light vehic--..." Celestia stopped. They exchanged looks. Then turned to the dragon.

"Spike." Luna said sternly "I think all of us knows WHO has taken Juggernaut."

"Yes?" he asked back.

"Alert the mares who take responsibility, and tell them to meet us TEN MINUTES from NOW at Platform 1." Alexei continuied with a solemn tone.

"Go now." Celestia added darkly, and the baby dragon scurried away.

The Night Prior

"So, cousin Braeburn is hurt?" Apple Bloom asked. The Apples were having dinner.

"Hurt 'is leg." Applejack replied "Docter says he'll be fine in a few weeks' time, but he'll have to stay in bed until that."

There was a pause in the conversation.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Are we gunna visit 'im?"

Applejack sighed. She had already told this to her brother and Granny Smith.

"Ah don' think so, sugahcube. They're doin' track repair over there, so no heavy-weight engines can go through there. Matter o' fact, there aren't any trains going there 'til next week's end."

"Awww..." the youngest Apple slumped back into her chair. Suddenly, her eyes lit up.

"But what about Diesel? Or the Iron Twins?" she asked "Ah'm sure Twilight... Or Dr. Whooves would..."

"No can't do." Applejack cut her off "I checked with Twilight yesterday, to see what jobs we'll be getting tomorrow. We both asked the Doctor 'bout Appleloosa, but he said that none of the shunters will be available. not even Steamie!"

Again, Apple Bloom seemed bereft. Then, her eyes lit up again.

"But what about that... Thingamajig that the Princesses and Mr. Alexei were putting together?"

"It crashed on today's test run." her older sister replied, making her slump back again. But while the others ate, a determined look came over the young filly's face.

Present time

"Well, thank y'all fer comin' to visit me! It's mighty kind from ya, Apple Bloom." Braeburn smiled at his little cousin "An' I'm very pleased to meet yer friends, too!" he added, looking at the other two fillies.

"Don' mention it, cuz!" the young Apple replied, casting a glance at her friends, chatting with other members of the family - We're glad we could make it!

""Cuz"?" the young stallion chortled "Where ever did ya learn such hipster words?"

"Oh! - Apple Bloom blushed - Well, Spamcan's always usin' it to describe his brother, and...

"Now hold on a tree-shaking second!" Braeburn sat up, looking at her with bewilderment "WHO uses it?"

The filly blinked.

"Ah, yeah! Ya nevah met Spamcan before!" she exclaimed, tapping her hoof to her forehead. Hearing the familiar name, the other two fillies ran up to them as well. The other family members became interested, too.

"Who's this "Spam Can" thug?" one of them, a deep brown colored stallion with a horseshoe mustache and sideburns asked "He oughta not lay a hoof on my niece, or else...!"

"Settle down, Pop!" her wife, a youthful, peach colored mare called out to him, her Feathered hair mane flowing freely, before turning to the surprised fillies "Don't ya worry, yer uncle Apple Brandy may seem like a bear, but his growl is bigger than his bite." and she affectionately rubbed her nuzzle to her husband's cheek, making the latter growl with content.
Braeburn laughed.

"Well, Firewater, you sure know how ta introduce yerselves..." he chuckled, before turning back to his cousin "So, who's Spamcan?"

The fillies smiled.

"He's Applejack's engine, of course!"

THAT made the Apple's look up in surprise.

"Her WHAT?" they asked. Apple Bloom was about to reply, but her friends interrupted her.

"Spamcan's a diesel locomotive! " Scootaloo spoke up.

"He's very strong... And grimy..." Sweetie Belle continued.

"And gruff..." the little pegasus went on "He lives in the train yard close to Ponyville!"

"He delivers goods and heavy-weight stuff all around Equestria!" the unicorn filly went on "Well, at least, around Canterlot..."

That was when they noticed the surprised looks on the others.

"What I MEANT to say was..." Apple Bloom said firmly, shooting a frown at her fellow Crusaders "That Spamcan, or D199, is a diesel engine who lives at Ponyville Marshallin' Yard. And Applejack sometimes drives him, usually on Sundays, when we take a special load of apples to Canterlot."

"So... He's a freight engine." Braeburn was slowly putting the pieces together "Oh! Cousin Applejack has joined that work-an'-study program fer young mares an' stallions, right?"

"Yeah! So did Rarity, and the rest of her friends!" Sweetie Belle added "They all work with one engine selected to be their mentor!

"An' Applejack works with this 'Spamcan' bloke, eh?" Apple Brandy asked "Wha's he like?"

"Hmmm..." Apple Bloom pondered "Grumpy. Very grouchy at times, but hard-workin', an' once ya git to know 'im, he's a nice lad."

""Lad"? You speakin' Eaglish now?" Firewater laughed.

"That's how most of the diesels speak!" Sweetie Belle retorted.

"I still don't know HOW you three could get such a handy thang like that "Juggernaut" or wha'i'sname..." Braeburn added, checking the bandages on his hind leg.

"Aaaah..." the young Apple muttered...

Earlier that day...

"...Is THAT it?"

"Eeyup, this is it!"

"...It's rather a "he" than an "it"..."

The three fillies stared at the sleeping Juggernaut.

"He'll do." Apple Bloom smirked.

Present moment

"...Since our sisters work fer the railway, they lent him to us..." Apple Bloom forced on a smile.

Her relates glanced out through the window, where a few local workcolts were washing down the dusty Juggernaut, one of them also cleaning his biker goggles.

"Well, we an' the boys looked at 'im." Apple Brandy muttered "We'll git 'im some proper doors, meters fer his dashboard, 'cause he has none, and replace the reverser lever with something more... Convenient..."

"That sounds great!" Apple Bloom smiled.

"It sure does!" said a familiar, stern voice.

The fillies eyes went wide, and their faces grew pale. Firewater let out a silent gasp, and her husband took of his old-fashioned motorist helmet...

Slowly, the little ponies turned towards the entrance.

There stood Applejack, looking very cross, her eyes on Apple Bloom. Next to her was a less certain-looking Spike, and behind them: Princess Celestia and Luna, both looking quite irritated. They didn't had their regalia, but their "working attire" instead, now with their peaked railmare caps as well. Between them was the thin form of Alexei, his arms crossed in front of his chest, a glare sitting deep in his eyes.

"Wandering off without warning anybody, stealing NOT only an authorized railway vehicle, but the personal project of the railway's leaderboard itself, putting both your lives and Juggernaut's in danger, traveling down on unsafe tracks, interrupting important line maintenance operations, and lying to your own relatives." the ire god listed "Kid. You're in a HEAP of trouble."

The filly squirmed.

"So are you." Applejack added, looking at Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo.

"SWEETIE BELLE!" the little filly literally jumped (along with some of the others), when Rarity popped up beside the farmer mare. Sweetie Belle squirmed as well.

Scootaloo waited.

No Rainbow.

She slumped down to the ground, her hair covering her eyes.

Celestia sighed.

"Since no damage was done to anything, including your lives, we let you slip this time. BUT!" she went on "You must write a detailed report on your journey, from the yard, to here. Four pages long. We'll collect them from Miss Cheerilee next Monday.

"Your sister should help." Luna added "It's their responsibility as well."

"FOUR PAGES?" Sweetie exclaimed.

"Not enough?" Alexei growled, silencing her. Scootaloo kept staring at the ground.

"You have our full respect, Mr. Apple Brandy, for looking after our work." Luna continued, looking at the stallion "Thus, an ample amount of bits has been added to your and your employees' accounts - or wallets."

"I... I..." the stallion was lost for words, but his wife knew better.

"We're very grateful, yer majesties. It's an honor." she bowed.

"Right. Now then..." the Princesses returned their glances to the fillies "What do you have to say for yourselves? And your sisters?" Luna asked.

"I'm... Sorry for leaving without permission, and stealing Juggernaut..." Sweetie Belle muttered.

"And Ah'm sorry fer lying to you guys..." Apple Bloom mumbled to her family, before turning back to the Princesses and the controller "We didn't meant ta interrupt the railwork, honestly!"

"Yeah, ya BETTER NOT...!" Applejack snapped, before continuing with a more subtle tone "Just what where ya thinking, stealin' the Princesses and Mr. Alexei like that?"

"Well, at least they gave Juggernaut a nice, long test run..." the deity pondered.

"They remind me of mahself, like one of mah "stunts", when I was in their age..." Apple Brandy smirked, before he got swatted on the back of his head by Firewater.

"Sweetie Belle, don't you EVER do that again!" Rarity scoffed her sister "I was sick with worry! We all were!"

"I'm so sorry, sis!" the filly replied with a shaky voice, tearing up. Her big sister quickly hugged her close, burying her head in her coat, as she wept. Scootaloo sat alone.

"Well, Scootaloo?" Celestia asked in a demanding manner "What do you have to say for yourself?"

The filly suddenly jumped to a stand, and jerked her head up, throwing her mane out of her view, revealing her tearful eyes, locked in a furious glare directed straight at the three deities.

"I HAVE NO SISTER!" she yelled.

Everybody fell silent.

Both princesses had taken a step back when the little pegasus yelled at them, and after seeing the look in her eyes, they couldn't help but to feel an inexplicable guilt. Alexei, on the other hand, stared back into her eyes, and understood everything - a sorrow expression spreading over his face.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom stared at her with fear - they've never seen their friend so angry before, not to mention so sad as well.

Scootaloo was sniffing and wheezing, fighting the urge to cry, her gaze still locked at the deities, staring at them with a blaming look.

The rest of the ponies were bewildered by the filly's outburst.

"D-Don't worry, Scootaloo..." Spike muttered, surprising everyone, as he walked over to her, placing a clawed hand on the filly's shaking back, making her ease her muscles, and sit back down once again "I'm sure Twilight will help..."

"OK..." she whispered, still sniffling.

As Apple Brandy and Firewater joined the dragon in comforting Scootaloo as parent-like as they could, the three immortals walked outside, leaving friends and family on their own.

"Well, you finally caught me, bachgen..." Juggernaut smirked, quite awake now. He then noticed the deities' expressions "What's the matter?"

"Long story." Alexei replied, before turning to Celestia "Where does Apple Brandy and Firewater live?"

In Hoofington, a couple dozen miles from Ponyville. They have a brewery there, although they themselves rarely drink." the princess replied "I've been to their wine festivals before - drunkest nights of my life -, but they themselves have to be the most sober - if randy - I know in this part of Equestria. No foals so far..." she added.

"Hmmm... - the god pondered - Perhaps... Nah!" he waved his hand dismissively "I wouldn't dare to separate three good friends like this."

"Yeah, you gotta have them "Cutie Mark Crusaders"." Juggernaut added with a smile "Perhaps once when their crusades are over?"

"When they find their talent?" Luna asked, and smiled "Yes, they'll need to find a better way to occupy themselves." she seemed deep in thought, remembering.

"But there's a more important question at our hooves, er, hands..." her sister spoke up.

"Yes?" her companions asked.

Celestia sighed, and cast a worried glance at the sky, towards Ponyville's direction.

"What's the matter with Rainbow Dash?"

Intermezzo: Crapcakes

"....Oh, fuck me..."

He woke up with a pulsing pain in his head. The air was rank with the smell of rotting flesh, drying blood, and smoke. He found it hard to move.

Carefully, he opened his eyes, only to shut them again, thanks to a blinding light coming from above... Blinking profusely, he managed to adapt to the uncomfortable light conditions. As he did, he finally had a chance to look around, well, as far as it was possible - he seemed to be tied down. As he glanced downwards, he figured out why.

Oh bloody Hell! - he swore, noticing the equine body stretched out unnaturally on the metallic board, held in place via tight, but not uncomfortable leather belts - well, not uncomfortable for his taste.

That was mainly due to the fact that he had other excruciating things to handle:

First of, he was now a pony. He really, sincerely hoped he'll not become one despite coming to Equestria, and now, all his hopes had vanished, flushed drown the drain. "Hope dies last", they say, but now, he felt like he could very easily deny that, for he recognized his surroundings:

A leaning metal table he was bound to.

A piercing lamp above.

A dark room with the smell of makeshift graveyard, cheap crematorium, or some work/death camp from World War 2.

Mutilated and decomposing carrions in the dark.

The lack of any sound.

And him, being a pony in the middle of all this mess, in a helpless position.

"Oh, ruddy marvelous. I'm going to be made into bakery product!" he thought to himself, rather unsurprised and unexcited. Forget being scared or anything, he had heard, read, and seen the fanfict before, he knew what was to come, and couldn't care less about it. The situation was very cliché, ludicrous, and after hearing it so many times, it literally held no surprise to him. He had lived a long life on the Mainland, with colleges you'd wish to see rotting in Hell, bar a few, in an unforgiving, tough and cruel world. His life had been made a living Hell countless times before, both physically and mentally - he didn't gave a toss about morals anymore. He had his standards, and the story he was probably about to relive was LIGHT YEARS beneath the terms "frightening", "exciting", "interesting", or even "annoying" according to them. It was just. Plain. Dull.

So he'd be tortured to death by some unreasonably psychotic pink mare, who, for some loosely logic reason, thinks that eating him would do both of them good, despite her being a herbivore and him...

Well, not agreeing with the whole concept behind all of it.

After some time alone, testing his bounds, and doing nothing, he began to feel bored. She sure didn't hurry, that's for sure.

At last, he heard a heavy door opening and closing in the darkness, along with giggling. After a bit of wait, a ping and fuchsia shape emerged from the darkness.

"About bloody time!" he snapped at her "The Hell took you so long?! Or was this part of the torture? If it was, you failed miserably, you little twerp!"

This seemed to have surprised her. Not that he was angry, but rather the fact that he had been expecting her... And torture.

She looked up at him from under her curly mane, pupils unnaturally shrunk in her blue irises, as she grinned at him with manic euphoria.

"Ah, I see..." he grumbled "So you needed your daily "snort" to get on the go. Hmph, should of expected it. After all, no-one could be THAT chirpy and live, surely!"

Again, this seem to have stunned her, as she stopped smiling, and looked at him with confusion. It didn't last long, but it left an impression of stupidity in him.

Nothing too surprising from her, of course.

"The fuck are you staring at?!" he snapped, impatiently "Don't you have some butchering to do?!"

This snapped her out from her gaze, and her psychotic smile came back.

"Hehehee... You seem very eager..." she chortled. He only snorted at that remark.

"Of course I bloody am! If you're going to torture me to death then vivisect me to make a some cheap, shitty desert from my flesh and viscera, then make it snappy! I don't have all bloody day, you know!"

"WHAT?!" she yelled at him, surprising him for a slight moment "You DARE to call MY cupcakes cheap and... And..."

"UTTER FUCKING RANCID BULLSHIT!" he throated her down "Not even the bloody hobos would eat it! WORSE than our former controller's yuletide cakes! And THAT'S actually saying something!" he spat.

She seemed to be furious for a moment...

But then it all disappeared.

He sighed, hoping that the story would take a new, yet unexplored, and thus, unrecorded turn, but her returning maniacal smile assured no difference.

"Well, that could be solved!" she smirked "I'll turn you into something else! How would you like some muffins instea--?"

"You. DON'T. Put. MEAT. In. DESSERTS. You stupid twit! Can't you understand that?!" he growled "No wonder they taste like shit!"

"But of course..." she said, in a rather admitting manner, which piqued his curiosity. Not for long, though...

"That's why I made everypony a part of me!" she smiled at him "They were all bad in a way, but when I ate them, they all became a part of me, which means they got better!" and she giggled.

Rather than bored, he felt annoyed, for the first time being there.

"What, you're mimicking Jigsaw now? How cheap can you get?!" he shook his head, realizing that the question might as well be a rhetoric one, given the conditions "Never mind! Just get on with it!"

Again, she looked at him puzzled, which started to irritate him.

"Wait... You know what I'm going to do?" she asked. He rolled his eyes, then shook some of his newfound mane out of his eyes, which turned out to be clean white.

"Of course I bloody do!" he growled "Nearly all of Equestria does!"

"WHAT?!" she shrieked, and for the first time, he saw fear in her eyes. This made him feel delightful. The cotton-candy maned equine was already a tiresome sort to begin with, but adding mental derangement to her personality just made her a great pain in the arse.

He smirked deviously at her.

"Oh yes. Don't think that ponies wouldn't know of such carnal place." he murmured "With all the happiness and sunshine and stomach-churning, peace-loving, chaffy good will this pastel-colored gigworld is composed of, do you REALLY think that they won't catch on on something thing so sinister, unnerving and evil as your "unorthodox" baking methods? Why, I bet that even those naive putzes you call your landlords know about it, but they're simply too wussy to dare and call the pigs, or whatever law enforcement troops you ridiculous equines have!"

The scared look faded from her face.

"So what if they know?" she asked, innocently "They do nothing about it! They never will! And if they do..." she paused for a moment, then lifted a blood-stained meat-chopper "I'll just make some cupcakes for them." and she smirked, triumphantly.

He merely frowned at her, sniffing.

"Oh, don't make me puke!" he hissed "You don't stand a ruddy chance! Don't EVEN think they'll TRY to confront you personally! The princesses will probably teleport you to the castle's dungeon, where you'd be tortured until you commit everything. THEN they'll probably send you to the sun, or I don't know... And even if they DO try this in the traditional, raid-the-dragon's-den way, you won't be able to do ANYTHING! You're just a normal pony, and I SERIOUSLY doubt that you'll be able to dodge even ONE attack from even the most weakest of troops they'll send at you!"

"AND just WHY, pray tell, is that?" she asked on an offended tone. He sighed, his black eyes filled with tiredness, irritation, and something, that, from a distance, could slightly resemble something that could be vaguely passed on as pity...

"Well, no offense, sis, but you're quite well off in the meat department..."

She looked at him blankly.

"What?"

"- Oh, for God's sake, you're FAT! F. A. Freaking T! CHUBBY! LARDY! ROUND! A FATSO!" he sighed tiredly, than added with a grumble "Not so surprising, considering that you chomp on meat and sweets all the time."

He glanced towards the ceiling, as if asking at the gods.

"HOW exactly did you avoided getting diabetes or scurvy, I'll never know..."

He shot a glower at her, once again.

"Especially since you're about to ad me to the lard on your ass. NOW GET ON WITH IT, TUBBO, END MY MISERY AND THEN GO ON A DIET or something..." his voice trailed off, and was reduced into morose grumbling...

She blinked, shook her head, and simply dropped the chopper on the desk near by, picking up a well-known knife instead. She grinned at him reassuringly, but he merely rolled his eyes and sighed, looking away in a bored matter. She frowned, and went back to him.

"You know what comes next?" she smirked, which he found nauseating, simply because of obviousness behind it.

"Of course I do! You're going to play the role of the Skin-Taker from that other fucked up creepypasta, and your going to cut off my bronny brand, or whatever it is! GET THE HELL ON WITH IT, YOU WASTE OF GLUE MATERIAL!"

Again, she was baffled by his knowledge of the process, and his scurrility. But she shrugged her shoulders, and, grinning euphorically once again, raised the knife, aiming... Only to have it fall out of her grip (he wasn't sure, nor did he care, HOW she held it so far, 'cause, SCREW logic, this is a gruesome creepypasta, not a scientific dissertation!).

Finally looking at her to see why she paused, he noticed the shocked expression on her face. Following her gaze, he looked down, only to see his own haunches, the jet black fur lacking any sort of "bronny brand", shining clean against the scraped surface of the adjustable metal berth.

"Heh." he chortled, and looked back up at her smugly, even more conceited when he noticed her hoof put up against her mouth, her eyes showing deep shock and dismay, as she saw the blank flanks. She also looked back up at his face, and was taken aback by his complacent and guileful look.

"How... What... WHO ARE YOU?!" she yelled with frustration, reversing slightly from the table, looking at him with a shocked and appalled look, visibly offended by the whole situation, as she frowned at the bound pony pathetically - well, in his point of view, anyway.

"Hmph! You should know by now, you stupid cunt!" he sneered "We, unfortunately, have to meet each other every Sunday, thanks to your Princesses' abhorrent decision to make you incompetent ponies work for the railway until it gathers enough workforce to work on it's own!"

"...What?" she asked, looking confused. He only sighed.

"Oh, good grief! You know! At the marshalling yard, on Sunday, EVERY Sunday, since about six months by now!" he grumbled "Of course, I didn't always look so feeble and trite like this! I used to be a shunter, a shunting diesel engine, that is! But it seems that the powers that be decided that I should be more social, or some other psychological bullcrap."

He took a moment to grumble something under his breath.

"And now I'm here, soon to be pastrified, by some pink psychotic slut. "O, the humanity!", I should say, if it wouldn't be another one of those money-grabbing bastards' quadruple-copyrighted catch phrase!"

"...You've lost me there..." she admitted after a long silence. The stallion just rolled his eyes, once again.

"Oh... I guess this is Pinkamena I'm talking to, the shut-in, selfish little bitch who can't take "NO" for an answer, and can't live a day without some boring, generic party thrown for shitz and giggles!"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" she roared, and climbed into his face, glaring deeply into his eyes, breathing deeply trough her teeth, her mouth twisted into a snarl.

There they were, looking at each other, eye-to-eye, the bound black stallion and the insane pink mare.

He just glowered back at her, the same expression he would make if she'd be gurning at him. Although he remained uninterested and unaffected during the course of events, by now, he had grown tired with the morally and socially retarded mare. He blew some air through his nostrils quietly, not breaking the stare.

"I said." he replied in a cold and calm voice, almost insentient, if we wouldn't count the noticeable irritation "That you're nothing more, than an irrational, pastel-pink, selfish, endorphin-addicted whore who has no common sense, morality, and does NOT understands the term "private space", as exhibited right NOW!"

Upon that, her eyes widened, as she backed away slightly, but not too much, her frown remaining.

"You complain that your friends don't come to your parties, when you act as eccentric and PLAIN WEIRD as possible, as, once again, exhibited right now!" he went on, taking notice of the first tears forming in her eyes, and fighting off the urge to smirk at his own success at making a psychopath cry.

"You throw parties AT ANY GIVEN TIME, even if NOBODY wants to party! You won't take "NO" as an answer, and FORCE everyone to do as you wish. If they don't, you nag them until they do!"

He rolled his eyes.

"I mean, REALLY! I wouldn't be surprised at all if you'd be remembered as "the weird and unfunny friend NO-ONE likes but allow to be around out of pity"! Actually, forget pity, they've probably grown tired of your constant jabbering!"

By now, her frown was shaky, and tears began to flow down her cheeks. He went on, relentlessly:

"And there's another thing! This BLOODY, EXCRUCIATINGLY CLICHÉ "always-the-unlikely-one" mental patient role! No wonder you're the "Element of Laughter"! You're a just a soddy joke!" he growled, then continued in a mocking manner:

"OH EM GEE! Look out, everypony, here comes Pinkamena chaffy Diane Pie, to cut you up and bake you into a CUPCAKE, of all things, and ad you to the roll of fat on her hide! CAN'T YOU FEEL THE HORRENDOUS STUPIDITY BEHIND ALL OF THIS?! HONESTLY, WHAT SORT OF SICK, MENTALLY CHALLENGED IDIOT THOUGHT OF SUCH UTTER NONSENSE?! Oh wait, SHE'S STARING RIGHT AT ME, LIKE SOME POT-SMOKING HIPPY, COMPLETELY OF HER TITS! No surprise, though, considering how nauseatingly cheery you are all the ruddy time! You must be one on, at least, TEN SODDY DRUGS in the same time each day! Talk about "substance abuse"! YOU PRACTICALLY ENGAGE IN GANG RAPE WITH SUBSTANCES!"

She sat on the dirty, blood-stained ground, hair completely deflated, eyes widely open and sparkling with tears, as she looked up at the ranting pony she wanted to cook - now it felt like she was stuck in a never-ending nightmare. Although, he seemed to be just wrapping it up.

"You know what, Pink?" he grunted on a lighter, but still annoyed tone "You're a joke. A horrible, failed joke with NO HOPE of salvaging! You're tasteless, useless, GOD FORBID, even more WORTHless than I am!" he hissed, and the next second, promptly spat right into her widely open eyes.

"AH! MY EYES!" she screamed, and fall back, kicking around on the floor in pain, trying to rub the sour-smelling goop out with her forehooves.

He tilted his head to the side, momentarily surprised that that worked so well - he wasn't used to success, after all. There was a tingle in his hind legs, and as he looked down, he saw that something changed: his haunches were no longer blank, but were now adorned on either side with a white BR "arrows of indecision" symbol. He could help, but smile with honest, true happiness for a moment, even if a faint one. He had never earned the symbol during his working life, but it seems that this stand-out and bastardism towards inevitable fate has proven him to be TRULY an Other Railway... Pony. He frowned at that last bit, but then again, he'd been trough worse, and more importantly, he had other things to take care of...

After examining his bounds, he found that the ones on his hind legs were looser than expected. Looking at the ones that held his forelegs in place, he craned his neck towards the left one, and began to chew on the leather. It was though, and his teeth wasn't exactly that of a carnivore's or omnivore's, but he continued, nevertheless, and his efforts were crowned with success, as the belt finally snapped. His jaw and neck felt sore, so he decided to take a breather, and check on his captor.
Pinkie Pie was still writhing on the floor in pain, desperately trying to wipe the stinging liquid out from her eyes, unaware of his actions.

He rolled his tongue around his mouth, examining the taste of his own saliva.

"Yup, oil sludge." he exclaimed half loudly, and looked at the mare with pity. But he soon shook the feeling off, and went on with his exodus process, freeing his other forehoof. As he finished that, he wondered what to do next. His fetters were loose enough, but without the belts holding him up, he felt gravity drag his legs into them. Stepping out of them would probably break a bone or two, and it would alert her as well. So he began to inspect his surroundings, and moreover, his body, to see if he could find any other options. He soon figured out that the table was adjustable, and that the "top" edge of it was fairly close to his head - closer than expected, anyway. With a bit of fidgeting, he managed to set the table into a horizontal position, but that came with a loud CLANG! He froze, and slowly glanced at the mare - she was busy crawling towards what he suspected to be a sink or tub full of water.

Nodding to that, he held onto the edge of the table, and pulled himself out of his bounds and sat up.

He sat there for some time, enjoying the feeling of freedom, before shaking his head again, and stepping down onto the lukewarm floor. Quadruped movement came naturally, which disgusted him, yet he found it rather relieving, too. He even swished his ivory tail around, out of curiosity. Noticing that his captor's shape was still visible in the dark, he began to leisurely trot toward her.

As he reached her body on the ground, he found that she wasn't to far from her destination: a small tub of clean water was just in hoofs reach, but she seemed to have collapsed out of mental and physical exhaustion, now whimpering on the floor in a fetal position.

He sighed quietly, rolled his eyes (yes, again), and, after getting up onto his hind legs, he hug-grabbed the tub, and systematically poured the hot water all over her head. She coughed and screamed, especially when he dropped the metal bawl on her head.

"There." he snorted, and moved on, towards the darkness, hoping to find the door straight ahead.

He felt wind rush by his right ear, and heard a metallic clang ahead. Glancing back lazily, he noticed that she was on her hind legs now, holding a cutting tool in each hoof - how, he, once again, didn't know, or even care. He simply raised an eyebrow, then walked into the darkness,

No sooner than he did that, he felt air rush by his body again, as knifes, axes and daggers flew past him, often barely missing his head or sides - a hacksaw even skidded between his legs.

He soon found what he searched for however, and, grabbing hold of the handle, he looked back above his shoulder. Obviously, he was invisible to her by now, white mane and tail or not, but he couldn't help but smirk. He turned his head back, then heard hooves galloping across the ground of the basement. He let out a chuckle, which made the galloping sound more directed, then suddenly opened the door in front of himself, closing his eyes.

"AH!"

He heard a crash from behind himself, and, turning around, he saw that his former captor, obviously blinded by the sudden light, had ran into one of her rolling operating tables, and bounced back onto the floor, while some of the objects on the table - nails, a hammer, and jumper cables - fell on top of her, some of the nails scraping her skin under the pink fur, and the hammer leaving a bruise on her hips. The jumpers, fortunately, had fallen clear of her.

That didn't save her from the pain of the crash, the landing, and the fallen hammer, though. Once again, she was whimpering pathetically on the floor, a bloody bruise on her forehead, which she feebly tried to nurse with her forehooves.
He stared at her for some time, then just groaned, and rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time.

"Man up, bitch!" he called out to her, then went through the door, founding himself on the very bottom of a stairway, leading into blinding light. He turned around and quickly closed the door, also locking it. Quite soon, he heard hooves pound on it, as she screamed:

"LET ME OUT!"

"SHUT UP, OR I'LL GET BACK IN THERE, AND RIP YOUR ORIFICES OUT THROUGH YOUR BLABBERING MOUTH!!!" he roared back. Soon enough, the screams were silenced. With a nod of approval, he turned around, and began walking up te stairs, wondering what to do next: call the police, or get the strongest drink available, THEN call the cops...

...And suddenly, he woke up.

"Huh-wha'?" he muttered, blinking hard. Soon enough, he regained his sight, and looked around.

His colleagues, their drivers, AND his driver was looking at him. He glanced at the Class 17 next to him.

"I was talking in my sleep again, wasn't I?" the shunter asked.

"Yep." Derek replied.

"Oh, goody!" Diesel muttered sarcastically "Sorry about the commotion, lads!" he apologized to the others, then looked at the mares "But what the heck are YOU doing here at..."

He took his first look at the clock that day.

"SIX in the morning? We won't start until eight!"

"We decided to come over a bit more early." Twilight explained "We heard shouting, and ran over here. You woke up as soon as I touched your buffers." she added discreetly.

"Oh. Right, right." he muttered, then, realizing what she did and was still doing, he snapped at her "OI! Hooves off!"

She complied.

"Now tell me, just what the hay were ya screamin' 'bout?" Applejack asked.

"Musta been some scary dream!" a familiar voice said "Or a weird one, by the sounds of it!"

Upon hearing this, the Class 08's eyes darted around, until they settled on the pink mare next to Steamie's buffers. He eyed her for a long time, the gaze and the silence became uncomfortable.

"Uh... What?" she asked.

Diesel sniffed.

"Just you know..." he began "Even as a homicidal, psychopathic serial killer, you're still VERY dim and dull, not to mention pitiful."

"...OK?" Pinkie was used to the engine's gloomy behavior, but he was rarely this straightforward with insults.

Finally, Diesel broke his gaze, and looked around at the others.

"Anyways, where's that mock-loyal blue sack of Skittles? I'll have a word with her..."

"You mean Rainbow Dash?" Twilight asked.

"Yes, Sparkle, I mean Rainbow Dash." Diesel muttered didactically, before changing to ominous:

"Where's she? I wanna give her a piece of my mind..."

"Why is that?" Rarity asked. The other engines looked at him curiously as well.

Diesel sighed.

"Well, among other things, I'd like to tell her that she's a great big wussy!"

"Nice going, Lulu..."

"Yeah, REAL smooth..."

"Oh, quiet, you two!" the Princess of the Night retorted "So I messed THIS up! What of it?"

"It was a weedy plan to begin with." Alexei snapped back "Reenacting a stupid, graphic rumor to subdue HIS very nature. REALLY smart!"

"I thought that meeting with such a corrupted form of such an unlikely perpetrator would get him reconsider a few things!"

"Oh, you little Sigmund!" her sister scoffed "Haven't you forgotten something? Like the fact that he had already heard, AND had a gutful of these sordid tales?!"

"SO I haven't taken account of a few things! Big deal!" Luna yelled "It would of worked, if it wasn't for that... That...!"

"That bloody diesel..." the Flat Controller finished her, glancing at her sister "Honestly, Tia, can you believe her?!"

"OK, that's enough, Alex!" Celestia replied sternly. The foreign god just rolled his eyes.

"Oh, smag of!" he growled "Can't you see the OTHER extremity of this?! The OTHER way it could have ended?!"

"What?!" the two alicorns were puzzled.

The stickly figure just sighed.

"I think both of you are familiar with the "Rocket to Insanity" story..."

The two sisters shuddered and nodded in agreement. Then, their movements became lagged, as their eyes widened in realization.

"Oh... My... Goodness...You don't think...?" Celestia uttered, looking very pale.

Luna didn't said anything, she just stared in front of herself blankly.

"It could've happened..." Alexei replied solemnly "Hadn't Diesel been such a stubborn bugger, I think he would've ran over her in a fit of psychotic rage..."

The Princesses were horrified.

After a long silence, the Controller spoke up again.

"But, now that I think of it, if Pinkie wouldn't take back with her jabbering soon, he will run over her anyway..."

The Chairmare and the Director exchanged glances.

"Well, no manure..." they admitted.

Episode 8 - Trust to Rust

TRUST TO RUST

PART 1

"Well, look who decided to show a hoof!" Dr. Whooves sneered.

The mare grunted, but didn't reply.

"So you've FINALLY decided to do some work, AS REQUESTED by OUR Princesses and controller, no less..." the Doctor went on.

"I was busy with my REAL job!" she retorted angrily.

"Yes. Busy NAPPING!" the earth pony grinned.

"Just give me the bucking workorder!" she snapped.

"Not so fast!" Dr. Whooves replied, a bit more serious this time "Your work requires you to have a training in railmareship. Since you signed up so late, you'll have to cover for the TWO last jobs available."

"Buuut I don't HAVE to." the mare smirked. To her surprise, the Doctor smirked back.

"Oh, yes, you do! The railway's leaderboard itself sent me a message about you. You'll HAVE to learn to do both jobs. Whether you will actually DO it or not is none of my concern." the stallion explained, and hooved over some papers "Now. These pages contain the information about your workplace, the engine you'll be working with and looking after..."

"Wait a minute! "Looking after"?" she asked.

"Yes. You'll be both the driver AND fitter of the engine." the Doctor explained "If you need any help in completing these tasks, don't be afraid to ask other workponies, your friends, or Spike. Now, off you go!"

She couldn't believe it.

Not that she didn't deserved it, now that she thought back - backstabbing her own friends (she still felt sore about that)...

Skipping job and making excuses.

She knew that she deserved it, but she hated the feeling. So she flew on, faster and faster, trying to avert her thoughts from it. It was still early in the morning, just around sunrise, and the sky was red.

"Red sky in the night states delight. Red sky in the morning states warning. That's how the saying goes..." she pondered.

As she flew towards her destination, a smell caught her nose. A smell that was getting stronger...

"Eeugh! What a stink!" she coughed.

It was the smell of smoke, foundry smoke, to be precise. Soon, she was maneuvering between thick clouds of floating ash and soot, the sky heavy with plumes of thick black smog. The air became so dense that she could barely breathe - she had to lower altitude.

Ducking beneath the smog layer, she could see where the pollution was coming from.

Far ahead of her stretched the saturnine buildings of Smelters.

The Cavalry Ironworks were not a new addition to the railway by any means. It had been there for as long as the ponies could remember - it was there, perhaps, before the railway was built. It's buildings were dark and smeary from long years service in conditions unbearable for the humble pony. The recent expansion and modernization of the railway certainly made it busy - from all around Equestria (except Stalliongrad Oblast), the older equipment was transferred to the Smelters to taken apart, scrapped, and eventually melted down. Thus, the outskirts of the sheds, the yards, and even a narrow ring outside the area's fences was littered with rusting scrap.

But that was nothing than the long sidings of decaying engines laid out on the sidings, in various stages of oxidation and damage, some even partly thorn apart, the others falling apart. The damaged ones were the worst, the many dents, cracks and twists misshaping them into horrific caricatures of themselves.

An unsettling place to begin with, the place was made even worse with all the murky diesels roaming around it, especially at night, while the Works' "feeding lines", where the necessary oil and coal was unloaded was run by electric shunters, humming ominously, intent on their toil.

It wasn't haunted or anything, but the place pretty much a death theme park - some of the cranes even looked like gallows.

The mare gave a sight.

This was her new workplace. At least, where she should start from.

From the sky, she scanned the area, her gaze scrolling over the junk to find a living soul. Finally, he spotted a workcolt from afar.

Swiftly diving down, she landed beside him with an audible thud. Instantly, he turned toward her. He was an older stallion with a graying, short mane and tail, and fading golden yellow fur, wearing an orange light-reflecting vest and a scratched, weatherworn yellow helmet, with the Smelter's insignia (three industrial smokestacks fumigating white smoke in a sharp-teethed cogwheel) on it.

"Hello." she greeted him "Are you the forecolt?"

"One of them." the stallion replied. He had a raspy voice, which, she had to admit, fit VERY well into his environment - shreds of twisted scrap laid everywhere.

"I came here to work." she explained. The other pegasus raised an eyebrow.

"You?" he asked "What for?"

The mare sighed.

"Well, you know... The railway's aiding program... And stuff..."

"Ah! Ya came here to work with the engines!" the workcolt's face brightened up "OK, just wait for a moment!"

Using his wing as a hand, he lifted the microphone of his radio transceiver.

"This is 081 calling the Dispatcher, I repeat, 081 calling Dispatcher." he stopped for a moment, then added "You there, Smokey?"

The radio soon cracked to life, and the reply came in the form of a mare's voice.

"I hear ya, Tumult, hold your horses!" the dispatcher laughed "What's up?"

"There's a mare here, from Ponyville, who came here to do some work a la treins. Ya think we got sum'in' for her?"

"Has she got any papers?" Smokey asked back "If she does, bring it to me, and I'll see what we can do!"

"Right. Over and out." Tumult replied, and placed the microphone back into it's holder. He then turned to the mare.

"Alright, gal, follow me!"

They landed not far from one of the smelter sheds, near the railway lines, all rusted, but their running surface was ground shiny by it's users.

She handed her papers to the stallion.

"I'll be right back!" he spoke up, and flew away towards a tall, office-like building in the distance.

She slumped down onto her flanks, and gave a tired groan. She had barely been here for a few minutes, and her fur and mane was already soaked in sweat, and smelled like smoke. She took a glance up at the sky. It was smothered by smoke, leaving it striped with black streaks, and the blue sky was turned into an angry orange color by the fumes. In the distance, she could see it dispersing, and the land regained it's original color there, too - under the smog, everything had gained a sepia color scheme, or was brown to begin with, thanks to the rust spreading over the scrap and polluting the soil. She saw it: the few trees that grew around, or - Celestia forbid - IN the yards were gnarly, rugose, and misshapen beyond any visual amenity, not to mention that they were dead and their bark was blackened, making them look like fixings from a cheap horror movie. They looked scary, none-the-less...

"Why would Fluttershy want to become something like THOSE?!" the mare pondered. when the pegasus workcolt arrived back.

"Alright, it's all settled." he said, handing her papers back "Your engines will arrive in a jiffy. Just wait here."

"OK." she uttered, but her eyes went wide "Wait... 'EngineS'?!"

But the stallion had already left, flew away back to where she met him.

So, she sat down again, and waited.

Out of boredom, she checked on her papers a bit more thoroughly.

It wasn't anything interesting, a page detailing her personal infos, such as age, gender, birthplace, present or previous jobs, ed cetera, ed cetera... The other gave details about Ponyville Marshalling Yard, where she was directed from - most of which info she couldn't read, 'cause they were codes, and a final page, detailing the engine most preferable for her - not her decision of course, but she could've expected that...

With a deep sight, she put the pages away, and mentally readied herself of what was to come.

Despite all her efforts, she didn't expected what DID come, trundling down the track, growling deeply with a noticable volume.

She jumped as she heard two similar electric horns, buzzing brashly through the dense air, both deep, but the second just an octave deeper.

As the burr became louder, she stood up, her eyes momentarily blinded by two beams of yellowish light, which only grew stronger. Covering her eyes with her hooves, and peeking through them, she could see the source of the light: two black blocks were approaching her - they had the lamps. Standing back, she prepared to battle, as the rumbling became closer, but just a few meters from her, it stopped, followed by two quick, pneumatic hisses.

"Well well well... Loo' 'ho's 'ere!" a deep, Glaswegian voice spoke up.

"Eh... Could ya... Turn the lights down... A bit?" she asked.

"Oh. Shorry." another voice, a bit more monotonous replied. This one's Glaswegian accent also had a bit of South Londonian in it. Slowly, the lights grew fainter, until only the filaments themselves became visible - and so did their owners.

"'Allo, Rainbo' Dash."

"Yeah. Welcom'."

Rainbow Dash rubbed her eyes, and looked up.

Before her stood Iron 'Arry and Iron Bert, the Other Railway's scrap diesels. These two thuggish shunters were notorious for their grim appearance and grim jobs. And now, there they were, in all their greasy glory.

Both engines had black and yellow hazard stripes around their faces, yellow cabs and greenish gray bodies with a fainter yellow stripe running horizontally across on both sides, in level with their oblong windows. Their wheels, traction rods, buffer plates and buffers were all black with smirch that got stuck on them through the long hours of their work.

They were twins, and could only be distinguished by their faces: 'Arry only had a Soul-patch that reached down to his chin and some stubbly mustache-excuse, while Bert had a full 5 o'clock stubble which fused with the same stubble-stache his brother had. 'Arry's eyes were a bit narrower, which also helped to differentiate them.

But, of course, the real difference between them were their personalities. To put it short, 'Arry was the more violent one, while Bert... The more stupid. Both were incredibly dim and rude, and not to mention dour. Through their life, the twins had always worked around foundries, refineries, power plants, and, of course, the scrap yards and smelters. For many, they were simply known as "the Scrapping Diesels" (and, for a short time, as the "Yellow Diesels". For the Other Railway and the Mane Six, they were known as the Iron Twins.

Brutish, brash, and simple. Radical as they could get.

The twins had a nasty streak, too:

Their joy in scrapping and melting down old steam engines. They had countless on their list from their old home, but here, they could scrap all the engines they want: Equestria had MILLIARDS of steam engines, most of which we would deem COMPLETELY inefficient and uneconomical.

They weren't alive like them, which took part of the fun, but it was enjoyable to melt them down, nevertheless.

Diesel, Spamcan or CoBo would sometimes join them in their work, though not for long - they had other business to do, and beside the twins, only a few diesels could bare the heat and lingering fumes of the Ironworks.

In one way, 'Arry and Bert were just what Rainbow wished for: they were though, strong, and stubborn, not willing to give up, especially if it was about scrapping. On the other hand, they were quite the contrary of her desires: they were grimy, dark, and not too fast, as they were shunters, Class 08s, like Diesel (thought, they WERE faster than their own class). More importantly, they were earth-bound.

The polychromatic pegasus gave a deep sigh again.

"Lemme guess..." she muttered "One of you is the engine I'll have to work with."

The twins exchanged looks.

"Eeeh. Both o' us, actu'lly." Bert replied "You'll be ou' fi'e'."

"An' th' drive' o' one o' us." 'Arry added "Well, ya can change ev'ry no' an' 'den..."

"Uhuh..." Rainbow muttered "And just HOW am I going to drive BOTH of you?"

"One o' us co'ld go solo fo' a shor' toime. We'v' wo'ked wi'h ou' drive's b'fo'." 'Arry replied.

"B'sides, we'e no' noobs. We know ou' way 'roun' th' wor's, don' we, 'Arry?" Bert put in.

"Shu' up, Bert." his brother growled.

"Oh. Righ'-o. Shorry, 'Arry. Shorry Oi da'ed t' blu'dy spoke!" he replied with a grumble.

"Great..." the mare muttered to herself "Now I got dumb and dumber to work with."

She took a deep breath, and turned to them with a forced smile.

"Okay..." she grinned "What to do now?"

Again, the two shunters just exchanged looks again.

"We dunno." Bert said simply.

"Ya go' yer papers back, th' wo'ko'de' sh'uld be wi'h 'em." 'Arry added, a hint of impatience.

Rolling her eyes, she checked. And indeed, found a fourth, smaller paper hidden between two of the pages.

"OK..." she muttered, a bit embarrassed, and read their timetable. There wasn't much to do, only three jobs for the day, but those were long shifts.

"Simple AND boring..." Rainbow thought, as she read trough the short note, before turning to the twins.

"OK, it says here that we start with some shunting at Yard Number 6. Where's that?"

The two diesels smiled.

"Don' worry. We'll sho' th' way." 'Arry replied "Hop on board!"

The mare eyed them up.

"Eh... Nnno thanks." she smirked "I think I'll fly there. I'd like to get this done FAST!"

"I's still be'er if ya follo' us." Bert spoke up "Least ya won' ge' lost in 'ere."

"Lost?!" Rainbow exclaimed "ME?! You've gotta be kiddin'! I'm the best flier in Equestria!" she grinned, but the twins just gave her incredulous looks.

"Well, in Ponyville, anyway..." she corrected herself with an embarrassed smile "Anyways, I can get there by myself!"

"Ya sure?" 'Arry asked "Ya may be goo' flie', bu' me an' Ber' 'av' bee' wo'in' 'roun' dis ya'd fo' sum' toime by no'."

"We kno' i' loi'e th' back o' ou' buffe's." Bert added.

Rainbow's competitive nature was piqued.
"Oh yeah?! I bet I can get there, ten. Seconds. Flat!" she declared.

The twins exchanged roguish smiles.

"Yer on!" 'Arry declared, and with a dual hiss of their air brakes and two quick honk from their horns, the twins raced away, quite fast for their class.

Rainbow stared, then, a smirk became present on her face.

"Piece of cake..." she muttered, and flew after them.

The scrap diesels were easy to follow for multiple reasons. For starters, their yellow stripes gave them away easily. Second, since they were reversing, their headlamps on the left of their fronts have been turned off, and their red tail-lamps in the middle have been turned on, which glowed brightly enough for the pegasus to see. Third, there was the audible, deep rumbling of their motors, and third, the pungent whiff of their exhaust fumes, diesel exhaust mixed with cigarette smoke and wood nafta. The foul scent came like a trail, and for a long time, Rainbow followed them with her eyes closed, relaxing...

But as they got closer to the Works, things changed. The noise of the blow torches and the machinery from inside the sheds made the sound of the two diesels' inaudible, while the foul, scathing smell of the smokestacks and chimneys smothered the sky even as low the level she was flying at - and she couldn't go any lower, as the many piles of junk would be hard to dodge.

All she could rely on was her vision, which worsened as she got nearer to the sheds - the smoke made blocked her sight, and the scent was hurting her eyes. Also, the red glow from inside the big hangars was making it hard to see the two diesels' tail lamps.

Finally, she decided to lower altitude, and follow the twins - or, at least, the tracks.

'Arry and Bert had gotten so far ahead, she could barely make out their stripy front in the distance.

To her utter surprise, the two suddenly went sideways - 'Arry to the left, Bert to the right.

As she arrived to the spot they separated, she could see that the two lines parted there.

She decided to follow 'Arry, thinking that the smarter - or at least, not AS stupid - brother would be using the quicker way.

What she didn't know that Bert actually knew himself around the yard better.

Soon enough, Rainbow encountered a switch. Again, she flied to the left, following the left-hoof-wall rule she once heard from Twilight.

To cut things short, she quickly found herself lost, and ended up in Celestia-forsaken parts of the lonely scrap yard, becoming increasingly disoriented and worried. The smog was so dense that a literal layer of it covered the orange sky, shrouding the place in darkness.

Finally, she stopped when she reached an old, abandoned depot.

"Now I'll NEVER find that damn yard!" she cursed. Just then, she heard some chatter.

Looking around, she saw nopony, moreover, no-ONE! No workcolts, no workmares, no engines, no trucks.

The sounds of speaking hit her ears again. Listening carefully, she hovered closer to the dark buildings. Most of the doors were still on, with their windows broken and their frames cracked, the leafs themselves dangling crooked on their hinges.

One of the sidings, however, missed it's door, so she could see in.

In the darkness, she saw four bright white, but not blinding headlights, two at the bottom, and two at the top, a bit to the right from the other two. She recognized the pattern of the twins' headlamps - they had three at the bottom, and one at the top. The chatter was definitely closer.

"Hey, guys!" she called out to her. Suddenly, the chatter stopped. There was a long pause. Then, the lights began to grow smaller.

"Wait!" Rainbow shouted, and flew after them. She could hear the sound of engines, but these were different - the sound was lighter and much quieter, moreover, the smell of the exhaust fumes was faint and simple.

She saw two block-like shapes appear in the dim light outside, as they passed through the doors on the other side. She continued to follow them, and for a short time, she was getting closer. But as she did...

"Wait... You aren't..."

The next second, the two lights disappeared, and Rainbow found herself being plunged into darkness...

...And crashing into the side of 'Arry.

"OOF!" she cried.

"OW! FUCK!" 'Arry yelled.

Rainbow slid down his side, landing on his flank on the diesel's running board.

"Ah, yer 'ere!" Bert called out to her "Finally! An' i' o'ly took... FOIVE minu'es! 'bou' bl'udy toime!"

"Yeah... Real smoo', Rainbo', REAL smoo'..." 'Arry grumbled.

"Well, I could have arrived earlier if you two would have gone down the same track!" she hissed at him "And just what on Equestria were you doing in those old sheds?"

The twins exchanged looks.

"Which ones?" Bert asked.

"The ones in the middle of the bucking scrap yard!" Rainbow Dash snapped at him.

Again, the two shunters just looked at each other, puzzled. There was a long pause.

"Loo'..." 'Arry began "We 'no' ou' way 'roun' dis place, an' 'no' LITER'LY ev'ry inch o' it..."

"Dere's NO way tha' WE didn' 'no' o' a shed i' th' middle o' th' yards..." Bert added, when something struck him "U'less yer talkin' 'bou' the ol' storm depot..."

"The what?" Rainbow asked back.

"Th' storm depot." 'Arry replied "I' use' t' be th' main sheds o' th' Wo'ks b'fo' i' was relocated nea' th' Smel'e's."

"Th' wo'kcol's said dey use' i' as an emerg'ncy shed afte'wa'ds, loike whe' big storms we'e commin'..." Bert continued "Bu', i' burned down once, an' th' ponies decided t' abandon i'... Ya 'no', suppa'stissions an' stuff..."

The mare gave it a deep thought...

"I... See..." she said finally "But what were YOU guys doing there?"

Blank looks peered down at her.

"Rainbo' Dash..." the narrow-eyed diesel began solemnly "We've neve' been th' dose sheds... No' eve' a sin'le toime since we arroived..."

"Der's no way tha' ya saw us dere..." his brother went on "We don' visit tha' place. Nobo'y does..."

Rainbow went pale.

"W-Why?" she muttered.

"We jus' don't..." the twins replied in unison.

There was an awkward pause.

"...But... If you guys weren't there... Who was?" Dash asked.

The two diesels didn't reply, as they were lost in their thoughts... For once.

Minutes passed in silence.

Then Bert spoke up.

"Oi thin' we best ge' t' wo'k..." he muttered.

The mare sighed, and nodded in agreement.

The first job was fairly simple. They had to arrange the older, empty trucks into lines in one of the inner yards of the Works. It was an easy job for the shunters, but Rainbow found it tedious.

She had to learn how to drive both diesels - and both were exactly the same. Well, almost. Bert was a tad more dim, so it was easier handling him, but 'Arry was more quick-tempered, and she sometimes found it difficult to control him.

The job itself was boring, but it had a certain unnerving edge: as she found out, there were a few bent, uneven, rusty sidings on the far side of the small yard, which were also the longest. The twins called them "the Slaughter Lines". As it turned out, many of the trucks were due to be scrapped, but a certain number of them was still worthy to be repaired, once more. In the end, only a few were selected, and the masses ended up on the Slaughter lines, dent, broken, rusting, rotting away...

All they did was groan and wait 'til the twins took them away.

There was a large shed at the end of a lonely siding leading away from the small yard. This shed was long, and at it's end was a tall, jet black smokestack, blowing out thick clouds of smog the same color as the chimney itself... The long shed's tin roof, the barren ground around it, the piles of scrap near it, and even the single-track siding leading up to it was dull black with smirch and soot that fell from the oily clouds of the stack.

"I's loike black sno' in th' winte'..." 'Arry explained when the job was done "I's o'ly visible if i's cold."

Rainbow Dash coughed. The smell lingering around the yard was olid and thick. It didn't hurt her eyes or lungs, like the smog-layer above, but it was dense. It smelled like an old paraffin stove the size of a factory, and it obviously came from the shed. Bert reversed from it, having pushed the last of the soon-to-be scrapped trucks into it. The sliding doors closed with an echoing bang, just as the Class 08 stopped beside his sibling and trainee.

There was a long silence.

The trucks that were spared - barely twenty - were quiet. Too quiet. They've just been saved, spared from the fate of the others, as they were marked with a round, green blot on their sides, indicating they've passed.

They should've been happy. But they weren't. They looked just as morose as before, but now with a hint of guilt on their worn faces.

So far, Rainbow Dash didn't cared about the things going on around her. The job was lame and the twins were slow. Slower than what she wished for, but, being shunting diesels, like the one Twilight drove, she knew she couldn't expect much. Ad to that, that despite their speed, they were still able to go faster than their class, much faster if necessary, but in a very jerky way - they made rough quick stops and bashed the noisier, complaining trucks relentlessly, also making her trash around in their cabs. She was sure that under her cyan fur, her skin was darker blue and purple in several spots.

The work environment was crap, too...

The place was full with sharp, pointy object that were horrendously grimy, and provided great opportunities to get instantly infected wounds. The air was thick and she was sure it was toxic as well, so she felt that her chances of joining the Wonderbolts decreased with every second, as her lungs grew heavier with smoke. What's worse, this was only the beginning, as there were two more tasks in front of them.

The two diesels weren't the best colleagues, either. Sure, they were glad to answer her questions - even if the answer turned out to be blatantly obvious and right in front of her - and seemed to enjoy having her as a college. Well, Bert did, at least. But on the other hoof, the twins were disgruntled, bloody-minded, grueling and grim, always lashing out at each other (especially 'Arry), swearing and cursing loudly, berating one another, or grumbling to themselves. After some time, Rainbow found herself snubbing them with a yell, loosing patience over the twins' banter. And in each case, her outburst was greeted with puzzled surprise, and a momentary, awkward silence.

Then, they soon continued from a different point, making her efforts fruitless.

Another tiresome aspect of the Ironwork Bros was their off-color sense of humor. Rainbow Dash herself knew that she had a great tendency to be brash, but these two had the worse obscene and gallows humor she ever had to endure, mocking the trucks who whined the loudest mercilessly. Sometimes, she felt like covering her ears, when one of the shunters brought up a trashy, graphic horror tale on cue of the topic they were discussing - or arguing about.

At other times, the two acted like their complete opposites: both silent to the point of being cold and rigid, moving the trucks so smooth that Dash felt she was flying with them, with Bert being more concentrated and quick, and 'Arry seemingly daydreaming, moving the trucks leisurely, lost in his thoughts...

While she felt relieved, the moments of silence soon grew just as irritating as the two diesel's constant macabre-themed chat or brusque argument. The air grew even more dense in these cases, but also dry, and despite the inevitable heat, she shivered, feeling cold and uncomfortable, while sweat still dripped down her mane and fur.

Her mane was a bit longer now, still shaggy like it usually was, and so was her tail. After being told off by her friends, her best friends, her mood completely drooped. For days, she would just lay on a cloud, eyes closed as she wept, alone and silent. She felt forlorn and disheartened. For weeks, she just roamed the sky, keeping it clear, venting all anger onto the clouds. She sometimes had to stop herself from destroying too many clouds, fearing that she'll cause a drought - and betray her friends even more.

Part of her wanted it - leave them in trouble they couldn't find their way out, until they would beg her to return.

She never went home, and she couldn't really remember when she ate or drank... Her movement grew sluggish, and her mane and tail was left uncut for long. Finally, when she couldn't bare it any longer, THAT was when she decided to give the rails a shot. She couldn't loose much, could she?

But the periods of silence reminded her of those days where she was loss for all hope, and distraught by the actions of her friends, an her own self.

Sure, 'Arry and Bert kept her company, but she longed for someone else to talk to. There were a few workcolts around, but the blank and tired looks on their faces told her that it was a lost cause.

As the work ended, amid the sudden, dead silence, she noticed a certain somber atmosphere taking place. Sitting beside the front buffers of the two engines, she also noticed the solemn look on their faces.

The silence and coldness, the sudden sincerity, and even a noticeable cast-iron stringiness - it scared her.

"What's going on?" the mare asked.

"I's th' end." Bert replied simply.

"The end?"

"Yeah." 'Arry continued "Dese trucks will be sen' t' th' carri'ge wo'ks, an' put ba' t' service."

"Bu' th' rest..." his brother sighed "Dey aren' tha' luc'y..."

"What do you mean?" Rainbow's voice was jumpy with fear.

The two diesels didn't replied at first. Then...

"Ya see tha' long, black shed ove' dere?" 'Arry asked, glancing at the ominous building "Ya 'no' wha's goin' in dere?"

"No..." the pegasus replied, gulping...

"Jus' lis'en..." the diesel muttered, felling silent...

She didn't understood at first, but as they sat in silence, she began to hear them.

The screams.

They weren't the screams of a filly or colt in terror. They weren't the screams of any throat.

They were the shrill and moaning screams of metal and machinery. Wails and shrieks of frames being tortured: crushed, bent and cut up...

Saws buzzed and whirred, torches whistled and hissed, tearing into frames soon to be thorn apart.

The sound of metal and wood, both aged and no longer desired, hitting the ground like unsteady, dying heartbeats...

The industrial noise was ear-splitting and heart-shaking, yet muffled, snuffed by the thick doors of the dark hangar.

The mare's face was pale, she was covered in cold sweat and her eyes were wide open, her mouth agape, as she fell back, landing on her haunches.

"Dey keep th' foire burnin' wi'h th' wood." Bert added, looking at the smokestack "Da's why i's always black: ro'en wood doesn' ma'e a good foire..."

The mare was silent.

"Ya 'no', th' wo'kco'ts said tha' tha' shed us'd t' be a crematorium fo' P.O.W.s... Bac' in th' ol' days, durin' th' Gryph'n Wars, o' sum'in'..." Bert went on "Tha's why ya won' foind any birds in th' scrap yards... No' eve' pigeons..."

Something in the very core of the pony stirred. She felt a loss of breath, and colder than ever.

"Sum' REAL nasty shi' wen' down durin' th' war. Many o' th' wo'ke's don' eve' 'no' 'bou' i'." 'Arry continued, on a dry voice "Prison'rs o' War were fo'ce' t' do 'ard labor. Dey were kept relat'vly well, so dey coul' do mo' wo'k, bu' i' th' end, dey all died..."

"An' nu'hin' keeps th' soldier as warm as th' burnin' co'pse of th' enemy, roigh'?" Bert smirked darkly.

"Shu' up, Bert!" his brother told him off.

By now, Rainbow felt... Deeply disturbed... She felt nauseous, and her head was spinning...

Just then, the direction of whatever wind blew up there changed, the smoke pouring over the yard.

"Bloody 'ell..." 'Arry cursed "I' smells loike ol' times ev'ry toime i' blows ove' us..."

And as if by magic, the smoggy cloud, born in the chimney of incinerator shed, carpeted the yard, high and low: the sky went dark with smoke, even more so than usual, graying the colors of the area, while white soot began to fall from the new-formed clouds, covering the ground, the rails, trucks and engines alike in a bone-white sheet.

The sight was... Beautiful in it's own grotesque way.

However, the cloud and the dead snow also brought up a old scent from the depths of the stoves that...

The twins wished they could forget.

Dash's hooves fell on her stomach, as she retched, with tears forming and flowing out from her eyes, now squinted shut. After a few attempts - whether they were to force the gush back or not remains a mystery - she vomited into the cess beside the tracks, coughing and choking...

The twins sighed, and waited for her to stop.

When she finally did, 'Arry amicably opened his cab door, and the pegasus, still nauseous and woozy, groggily crawled back into his cab.

With two simultaneous rumbles, they left, oiling towards their next job, towards the smelting sheds...

She woke up with a sore throat, an empty stomach, and a great pounding in her head.

Sweet Celestia, did she hate puking!

Groggily, she stood up on all fours, and waited for the cotton inside her brain to disappear. Opening her eyes, she was blinded by a great red light for a moment, and lifted her hoof up to cover them. As a result she fell against a thin, metallic wall. It was made of tin, smooth and flexible, so she didn't hit herself badly. After a few deep breaths and blinks, she could stand up, and took a few unsteady steps.

Everything around her was dark red: walls, ceiling floor, all murky crimson. Looking around, as her vision cleared, she could see that it was a larger, low-roofed, cheap and under-equipped engine shed, with long sidings, and vertical girders supporting the thin roof, which went higher and higher as it approached the back of the shed. Looking out towards where the bright light came from, she saw the... "Entrance" of the depot. She had to walk towards it, not finding the strength to fly. As she reached it, the light suddenly got dimmer. Glancing outside she could see the source: not far from her was the mouth of an enormous blast furnace, stretching on the ground like some hellish swimming pool, filled with molten iron.

There a few, enormous beams some hundred yards away in each direction, holding an what appeared to be a strong overhead structure. She could even see engines up there, working with pegasi and griffons, pulling odd looking trucks. The noise was unbearable, so constant and fluid that she could barely distinguish the sounds she heard. There were twelve, long sidings that made up the depot's interior, separated into groups of three by the support beams that held up the shed's roof. Outside, a ton of switches, and six lines leading away from the sheds, three to the right, three to the left.

Rainbow sighed.

Boring and hot. Excruciating. At least her wooziness was gone.

Everything had the same color in various shades, even her: her cyan fur seemed dark red, and her multi-colored tail and mane just showed various shades of it. Her cutie mark's cloud seemed black, and the red part of the lightning disappeared. The air was thick, but not as much as outside, especially not like in the smog layer. Nor did it had the same smell. In one way, it was much more cleaner than the smoke outside - she assumed she was in one of the smelting sheds -, not littered with ash and soot. But it was still rank with the heavy smell of molten metal, and the heat made it feel almost touchable, as if she was pushing a lightweight wall in front of herself.

The place was enormous, by the way: she could barely make out the roof in the distance, there were pipes, cranes and sidings full of trucks not far from the depot, and the blast furnace she first saw was ONE of the many of a double-row that stretched in to the distance in either side of her - bowels of an industrial giant, still just a dwarf compared to the facilities up north.

She sat there, at the three lines that run in front across the sheds, unsure of what to do, when she heard a familiar deep, buzzing horn. Soon enough, one of the Iron Bros rolled up to her with a line of trucks filled with scrap metal. As he stopped beside her, his air brakes hissing quietly, she could make out that it was Bert - mostly out of his smile, as 'Arry usually had a frown or a nasty smirk.

"Yer awake." he pointed out "Goo'. Well, c'mon, cloimb aboa'd, we'e goin' to th' sidin's."

"What for?" she asked, reluctant to stay longer in the devilish conditions.

"T' wo'k, wha' else?" Bert snickered "Hop aboa'd!"

This time, Rainbow did, not keen on getting lost in the smelting sheds.

Bert rolled casually down the lines, the long trucks clattering behind him. Over the pass few months, he and 'Arry had gotten familiar with the Works, the layout, the yards - he now knew them by heart, even more so than his brother.

'Arry didn't liked to bustle about. Neither did him, but he didn't mind working in the big sheds, unlike his brother. As far as he could remember, the Sodor Ironworks weren't exactly big as in height or interior space, but they were considerably large - they had to be, metalwork takes up a lot of space.

The Cavalry Ironworks were HUGE, however. They usually didn't even work in the main sheds, but rather in a smaller, outer hangar, primarily used to melt down the wrecked steam engines. That department was secluded, along with a few other sheds where nonferrous metals were melted - the Ironworks clearly worked with MORE than JUST iron.

The big sheds were where the iron ore and the recycled metal from the smaller compartments were all gathered and made into useful things, so that the cycle could go on and on. Bert trundled, thoughtless, on the straight tracks. These were made of much larger pieces than those used for the main and branch lines of the railway, so there was less joint between them. This made the ride seem slower for Rainbow Dash, who was unaware of the difference.

Inside the cab, the deafening noise was muffled to a constant rumble. Unlike the hellish atmosphere of outside, it was cool behind the control cubicle. Almost cold, even, and Rainbow Dash found herself leaning against it's side, as there was some heat coming from the engine block. She didn't felt like sitting in the seat, despite the fact that she had already tried it during the "ciderless" cider party they had when the diesels arrived to Equestria.

You know, in the five-part prequel. Haven't read it? That's your problem, mate.

Anyways, whilst leaning against the panel (Bert could drive himself just fine, if you haven't recognized it yet), Dash had some time to think.

Heck, she had the past few weeks to do so...

And THAT was exactly what bothered her.

Why the long time?

She had fallouts with her friends before, tons of it! Why did it... Hurt so much this time?

Maybe because of the diesels. Diesel, Old Stuck-Up and Spamcan were there when... IT happened. She still wasn't quite sure what went wrong. One second, she had friends and was telling of another for her behavior, the next, she lost all...

And the diesels sure didn't helped her situation. No surprise there, though...

Diesel was one of the oldest, most hardcore member of the Other Railway, the very essence of it, according to many, an insufferable, unlikable git most of the time, intolerant and insensitive. Old Stuck-Up was the haughty, upperclass twit of the group, conceited and snobbish, and as such, looked down on the pegasus. Spamcan was the local macho, unlikely tough guy, brutish and simple, but trustworthy. But he, like Applejack, seemed to value honesty - to some extend, that is - and thus, turned against her, while he usually didn't hold a grudge against her, like Applejack.

Then there was CoBo, Gilda's engine, a rare loco, which, according to the others, was the last of his kind, and a misanthrope.

And finally, Steamie, Pinkie's loudmouth and accused-to-be-sociopathic tank engine.

She barely know them, and couldn't care less about what THEY thought, yet...

Their disapproval just made it feel worse.

"Even the last bastard berates me..." she thought now. She was angry at them. Not the diesels, in particular, as she was well aware of their gritty and grim nature, but at her friends.

THEY, out of all ponies, turning against her like that! Sure, she hasn't been acting "loyal" exactly the pass few days, but were THEY? She doubted it.

Everyone had heard about the event. That's why she hid away. Ponies were giving her looks. Cold, malicious, patronizing, dismayed. She didn't even dare to face Scootaloo. The other engines were ignorant: Bowler looked down at her, as usual, Derek seemed rather perplexed, but said nothing - literally, along with Fluttershy, which hurt her even more -, BoZo just rolled his eyes, and steamed off, leaving a smaller cloud behind, Pip and Emma ignored her, rushing out of the station as they saw her - though, they could've been simply on duty. Cromwell attempted to be sympathetic, but Mr. Bottomsly didn't seemed to agree, and the new recruit, the aged home-made rail lorry, Juggernaut seemed too senile to understand. The coaches snobbishly turned their eyes away from her, and the trucks sang songs, rude and loud, which echoed across the yard, and made the engines smirk with malice, laughing on her woe on the inside - as they usually do when some unfortunate event happens to someone, she assumed.

The song was annoying her to no end...

Fastest pegasus all around,
Faster than light, faster than sound,
Has no time to be earth bound,
Still, her fame just hit the ground!

Rainbow Dash, you treacherous twit!
Why ya had to be such a massive git?
Now they all hate you, so hit the pit!
Your words deceiving, your mouth full of shi--!

At this point, they were usually biffed into submission by one of the shunters, usually 'Arry or Bert.

Matter of fact, only these two diesels seemed to still like her - why, she couldn't guess...

Now that she thought back through the days events so far - she had no idea what time it was, she lost her sense of time when she passed out, but she guessed it was already well in the evening - she realized that the two had never, not even once, treated her badly. Sure, they had a grim job and a dark sense of humor, but they were rather nice. They seemed a bit dim at first look, but as she listened to the topics they discussed or argued about, they seemed well informed about the world, even schooled! She knew: Her friends, too, had never considered her to be the brightest bulb, or thought she was insensitive. She was brash, she had to admit, but where were THEY, most of the time? Twilight all locked up in her bubble world in the library - quite like how Diesel described it... A.J. always working her hooves off in the orchard, or selling apples, rarely having time for friends - well, at least, SHE had a reason. Fluttershy, as socially awkward she was, always locked up in her mansion at the edge of the bucking Everfree Forest! Rarity, also stuck inside her doll-house, playing dress-up from dawn 'till dusk, and even earning from it, which, made the pegasus' brain throw off the fan belt at times. And Pinkie Pie... Partying 'till the sky comes crashing down, frolicking with the laws of physics, and getting on everypony else's nerve, when she's not actually, all-four, on the ground - which was a rare as white crow.

As hypocritical as it sounds, they all had it easy in some way, EASIER than her!

She? Sure, she napped a lot, but that was between her job at keeping the sky clean and practicing for the Wonderbolts. NOW, she also had to work in a bucking foundry with two grisly shunters!

At least, said shunters were nice enough to not to DEMAND her to be loyal and give NOTHING in return!

This thought alone eased her.

She was with the Iron Twins now.

They had no demands. No expectations. All they did was work, and seemed to found their pleasure in it. Nasty and uncomfortable it was, they went on. Loyal to themselves, doing their part, and ready to help out their disgruntled colleagues.

They even saved Cromwell from some terror they call HiT!

But like her, they got nothing in return.Then again, they were part of the Other Railway. It was only normal.

"So... Ho's wo'k?" Bert suddenly asked, his deep voice echoing in the cab. Rainbow jumped... And then remembered what Twilight and Rarity said about "cab-talk".

"Meh... Fine... Bit hot..." the mare replied "And uncomfortable..."

"Cheer up, i'll o'ly ge' worse!" Bert chuckled. The pegasus didn't reply now...

There was a long pause...

Then...

"Bert?"

"Yeah?"

"Didn't you guys ever felt like... All the others hate you?"

Bert thougth for a moment.

"Yeah, in fact, we feel tha' all th' bl'udy toime!" he chortled. Rainbow was shocked.

"H-How can you laugh about THAT?!"

"Wha'? Dere's no su'proise innit..." the shunter explained "Dis IS th' Othe' Railway we'e talkin' 'bou'! B'sides... Wi'h us wo'kin' in'ere... Dere's no tellin' when we'll pull ou' own comrades into these sheds..."

Bert's voice lost it's glee all of sudden, and seemed very solemn... This, like the sudden silences through their previous job, set of the pegasus...

Finally, they arrived to the right location. The trucks were unloaded via electromagnetic crane, their contents landing in the shredders and crushers next to the tracks. 'Arry was also there, with his load of scrap metal.

But his load was different:

He had towed in five old Equestrian steam engines - their paints scraped off, the bare metal rusted and full of graffiti, windows smashed in, traction rods taken off, and a cover on the funnel to stop rain from filling the smoke box. One of them, a large tender engine at the front, was disconnected from the row, and towed near some heaps of selected scrap, locomotive pieces, respectively. 'Arry, disconnected, and rumbled next to Bert. Rainbow flew out of the shunter's cab, landing between them at the front.

Just in time.

The next moment, out of the shadows, ponies and griffons emerged, quickly as the wind. Torches hisses, the joints of masks creaked, and they pounced on the wrecked engine. Within minutes the first buffer fell off, followed by the one right next to it. Then the couplings... Then the funnel, the dome, the roof, the cylinders... Soon enough, the engine was reduced to a boiler on a chassis and wheels. The door of the smoke box was also thorn off, and ponies were already working on the boiler on the inside, the sound of pipes dropping echoed around.

Within half an hour it was done, all pieces cut up and placed into the right pile. THEN they moved onto the next engine.
Rainbow watched with awe. Their work was so straightforward, so precise... And so fast...

She couldn't believe it!

"Tha's th' main reason dey 'ate us..." 'Arry spoke up suddenly. Dash looked at him.

"Why is that?"

"Well, ya shee..." the diesel went on "We 'ave a pre'y grim job..."

"Towin' steamies an' even olde' diesels an' electrics in'o deir demise..." Bert added "Nasty job, bu' SUMONE has t' do i'..."

"An' while we'e at it, why can' we 'ave sum fun?" his brother went on "Da's why dey call us th' "Grim Messengers o' Doom", o' sum'in'..."

"Dey hate us loi'e dey hate death..." the other twin continued "Bu' unloi'e death, we'e avoidable. AN' we'e jus' doin ou' job..."

"Yeah... Bu' 'o 'no's 'o will we be takin' next? O'ly th' director coul' tell..."

"Un'il tha', i's a mystery fo' even us! So dey 'ate us loike the plague."

The pegasus was stunned.

"But... How could you bare THAT?!" she gasped. The two diesels smiled wearily.

"I's ou' job." Bert explained "An' th' others 'no' tha'. Dey trust us, an' accept us as colleagues..."

"As fo' wha' dey thin' o' us..." 'Arry went on "We don' giv' a FU'K 'bou' tha'!"

"Dey 'no' dey can coun' on us, bu' 'ho giv's a flyin' fu'k 'bou' deir opinion." Bert smirked "We 'no' wha' WE have t' do, an' we do i'. Sure, dey're goo' chums, bu' I won' cry my eyes off fo' 'em."

"No' poin' i' worryin' ove' ev'ry an' each o' deir hissy-fits, roigh'?" 'Arry put in "I mean, tha' woul' o'ly throw us back! Le's ta'e YER case, fo' example."

This caught her by surprise - she was listening carefully as the twins explained their way of thinking. For her, this was rather unorthodox.

"Mine?" she asked now, a bit worried.

"Yeah, 'bou' tha' li'le fallou' o' yer wi'h th' others an' tha' Gilda gal." 'Arry muttered "I say ya shou'n't giv' a toss."

"Oh, so you heard of... Wait, what?!" she WAS surprised.

"Yeah." Bert went on "Loyalty is one thin', yer element, but TRUST is another. Trust is a two sided thing. If yer frien's wouldn' do deir part, why shoul' ya do yer's?"

This made the pegasus think... Was it really worth "keeping up" with her element, when all it did was cause her grief? But still, she couldn't bring herself to decide...

"I can't just abandon my friends! I'd never leave 'em hangin'!" she proclaimed. The diesels looked at her sympathetically.

"Ya don' 'ave to..." 'Arry explained "Ya 'no' th' diff'rence be'wee' "trust" an' "loyalty"?"

Dash deadpanned.

"Loyalty i' sum'in' tha' doesn' needs emotions to i'..." Bert explained "Ya coul' be loyal t' yer boss, ya coul' be loyat t' th' Prin'sess, ya coul' be loyal t' th' othe' membe's o' a gang yer in... Eve' if dey ar'n't..."

"Trust i' diff'rent..." 'Arry went on "Ya o'ly trus' dose 'o ya 'no'. Loi'e yer frien's, yer family... Dose 'o ar' close t' ya, dose 'o trus' ya back. No', yer frien's decided tha' dey don' trust ya, ergo, dey don' really wanna be yer frien's, at LEAS', a' th' moment."

"Dey're angry a' ya, an' tha' was enough t' broke deir trus' towar's ya. Which means tha' deir frien'ship was fragile. Weak."

Dash didn't wanted to believe this. She knew her friends liked her. They had to, that's why they were friends! She didn't wanted to hear any more of what the Twins had in store for her.

"No... No, that's not true! We're good friends! The best friends! They'd never turn away from me!" she claimed, tears welling up in her eyes. 'Arry and Bert felt sorry for her.

"Oh? Did dey com' searchin' fo' ya, after ya didn' turn up fo' days?" 'Arry asked now "Did dey look after yer tortoise while ya we'e gone?"

The mare's eyes widened.

"Don' worry, WE did!" Bert spoke up quickly "Th' poor bugger showed up a' th' sheds a few days ago. I bet he was searchin' fo' ya. We ma'e a burro' fo' th' li'le cri'er, an' th' wo'kponies loo'ed afte' 'im fo' ya." he finished.

Dash gave a relieved sigh.

"Us diesels kept ou' eyes peel'd fo' ya, by th' way..." 'Arry informed her "We agreed, well, Pip an' Emma ma'e us agree, tha' ou' o' loyalty towar's ou' new drive's, we'll kee' a loo' ou' fo' ya. We thought DEY we'e searchin' fo' ya as well. Turns ou' dey we'en't. "Giv' ya sum' toime", dey claimed." the Class 08 chuckled "Fat lo' o' goo' tha' did, as Oi see..."

"Noice hair cut, though..." Bert added.

The mare couldn't believe it. While her own friends didn't even seem to worry about her, let alone look for her, and used such a threadbare excuse to weasel out it?! Even the diesels looked for her, well, kept a look out for her! And THESE were her friends?!

She felt rage building up her veins to the thought. The twins quickly noticed this, and, not wanting her to "blow a gasket", they spoke up again.

"'ey, don' worry..." 'Arry muttered "We coul' be wrong..."

"Yeah, maybe dey jus' didn' wan'ed t' talk wi'h ya..." Bert added.

"Yer no' 'elpin', bro!" the narrower-eyed sibling snapped at him "Bu' yeah, i' coul' be tha' dey don' 'no' wha' t' say..."

"Yeah, maybe dey're feelin' guil'y!" Bert quickly joined in again.

"Well they BETTER be!" Rainbow spat venomously. The Iron Twins quickly exchanged worried looks.

"Loo'..." 'Arry began, slowly and carefully "Maybe ya shoul' pu' 'em on trial..."

The pony didn't reply for some time...

"...How?" she asked finally, her curiosity kindled.

"Simple..." the diesel replied "Giv' 'em th' col' shoulde' fo' sum' toime."

"Don' be brash, be distant!" his brother added "IF dey ar' guil'y, dis'll o'ly fuel i', so eventu'lly, dey'll apologize, or sum'in'."

"O' ask wha's wrong..." 'Arry continued "DEN ya can tell 'em wha' we told ya."

"'Trust is a two-sided thing.'" Rainbow cited, a nasty smirk spreading on her face "And they're in dept."

"If DEY wanna win back yer trust, dey betta' sta't wo'kin' on i'..." 'Arry put in, he and Bert also carrying the same wicked look.

"Good..." Rainbow uttered deviously "Let's see how THEY like it when I TRULY turn my wings at 'em!"

"Bu' ya won' leave 'em hangin', roigh'?" Bert asked suddenly, and with a hint of concern. Rainbow looked up, smiling.

"Of course!" she replied, reassuringly "I won't leave them in trouble, or anything, but I don't trust 'em just yet!"

"An' if ya grow lonely, jus' visi' us 'ere, o' a' th' sheds..." 'Arry added, smiling "Dis place can fee' loi'e a real 'ell'ole, bu' trus' me, YA can grow use' t' i'..."

"I'll try..." Rainbow smiled "After all, you guys ARE my engines, after all!"

"An' We'd neva' leave ya hangin'!" Bert smiled, and the mare beamed back at him.

"Jus' don' piss us off, OK?" 'Arry added, grumpily.

"Got that!" the mare saluted, and flew into his cab - Now, what's our next job?

TO BE CONCLUDED...

Episode 9 - Trust to Rust

TRUST TO RUST

PART 2

Their third, and indeed, last job for the day was to take a smaller delivery of engine parts around the section. A line of vans and flatbeds was coupled behind the twins, Bert at the back, 'Arry at the front with Rainbow in her cab.

They stopped at every station, dropping two or three vans, then leaving, all the way to Manehattan (where they disconnected seven vans and nine flatbeds), and to Canterlot (one, solitary van)... Finally, with two vans, a flatbed, and the brakevan remaining, they set off to home.

It was night by the time they arrived. The trucks were shunted into a siding, and, after a beer and some fuel at the depot, they rolled onto the turntable as one, then, the two diesels slipped into their individual berths. No sooner than they did, Rainbow Dash flew out from 'Arry's cab, and went around them. Philosophic and emotional stuff and she weren't in the same league, but she was familiar with science and technology, having studied at the Weather University after finishing the Academy. Kicking and moving clouds kept her in the air, which was already a good flight training on it's own, keeping her in shape. Now, she inspected every part of the two diesels with surprising expertise, looking for scratches or dents, loose parts, ANYTHING, that would cause trouble later, like a good fitter should. Spike was quick to notice...

"Uhh... Rainbow Dash..." he muttered, a bit awkwardly. He hadn't seen the pegasus for quite a long time, and the mare didn't seemed to notice that all the other diesels, AND her friends were there, looking at her in awe.

"Yeah, Spike?" she asked in an everyday voice.

"Errm... You can rest now, that's... That's my job..." the dragon explained, pointing at the rug in her hooves, as she prepared to clean the two engines.

"Sorry, Spike, but 'Arry and Bert are under MY watch." and with that, she rubbed down and polished the two shunters in ten seconds flat. She even washed down the smirch and grease covering their chassis, buffers, wheels and traction rods. In the end, 'Arry and Bert looked spic and spam, ready for the new day. Their motors were turned down, one by one, and only THEN was when Rainbow landed in front of them, giving a great sigh as she finished - covered in grease, oil, and other, unclassified muck.

While she was taking a breather, her friends trotted up to her, congratulating.

"Rainbow, that was fantastic!" Twilight beamed.

"Hmph. From a beginner!" Diesel grumbled, but secretly, he was impressed. Somewhat.

"Never seen you so busily bustling before..." Rarity added cheerfully "I must say, I'm deeply impressed."

"Yes, yes, very neat job indeed..." Old Stuck-Up admitted "You don't have to rush like that, though..."

"Yeah, you could've lit the polishing grease on fire!" Bowler added, but the ponies ignored them.

"You were so quick and precise, I couldn't tell where you were until you've stopped..." Fluttershy peeped.

"Eeyup, a fine piece o' work!" Applejack smiled "An' Ah've heard an' saw what ya did in the S'lection Yard, rounding up 'em trucks in record time!"

"Don't be so surprised, A.J.!" Pinkie Pie jumped in "It's Rainbow Dash we're talking about! Fastest flier... AND shunter, in all of Equestria!"

Rainbow found herself blushing.

"Ah... That was more of the resort of the Iron Bros..." she admitted, and the two diesels beamed proudly.

"But still, it was a great effort from your part!" Twilight explained "It's not an easy job dealing with trucks, especially in the Smelters! You gotta have the stomach for it!"

The cyan pegasus cringed here, but the others didn't notice.

"Yeah, I don't think I'd be able to deal with a grim job like that..." Gilda admitted (but actually, she was lying to sound nice, how kind of her) "Can't say the same about CoBo, though..."

"Yeah, I BET you won't..." Rainbow thought sorely. Even the memory of that sordid place and it's haunting memories stirred her stomach, and her face went a bit pale. This, the others noticed as well.

"Ummm... Are you alright, Rainbow?" Fluttershy asked.

Rainbow swallowed, and then replied.

"S-Sure... Well, anyways, I'll get Tank and head home."

"Wait, Tank is here?" Twilight asked. The others were surprised as well. Not the engines, though...

"Ah, yesss..." BoZo wheeshed "The poor critter crawled in a few days ago, searching for Rainbow, I guess..."

"We told the workcolts about him, so they made him place to stay until Rainbow comes around..." Pip added.

"The poor devil exhausted..." Emma muttered "I bet he searched all of Ponyville and it's surroundings. He'll be happy to see you." she added, smiling at the polychromatic pegasus.

"But this brings up a question, though..." Rarity pondered, before turning to her friend "Where WERE you in the past few weeks?"

"Oh, Ah can tell ya where SHE was alright..." Applejack growled "She was too busy nappin' ta take care of her own pet! Well, Ah'll never..." she stopped.

The others were surprised at the sudden pause.

That was when they heard a snort... And another...

Slowly, they turned their heads at Rainbow Dash, who was now sitting on top of Bert, trying hard to hold back her laughter.

She couldn't hold it for long...

"BAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA-HEHEHAHAHAHAAA!!! AHEHEHEHEEE-AHAHAHAHAHHAAAAH!!! HAAHAHAA...!!!"

It stunned them. Not Rainbow's full-hearted laughter, they've heard that before, and usually didn't bother them, even if she WAS laughing AT them. But this was different.

Her laughter didn't had the same, light-hearted tone as usual. It sounded nefarious instead, and hinted with malice - the sort of laughter Diesel had when they first met, and the surly shunter reminded them of the awful rumors ponies started about them. He brought them down into tears, laughing viciously. He apologized afterwards, and they forgave him - after all, they DID force this reaction out of him by cornering him with a thing that "wasn't fully his fault" - similar to their case with the horrid tales unknown ponies made up about them - well, not exactly ponies, according to the diesels.

Rainbow Dash's laughter now had the same spite and jeer that Diesel's had. She was laughing at them, but not only she - the Iron Twins were laughing WITH her!

The same sort viciousness, amplified three times, was overwhelming. Especially for Applejack, who felt it being directed towards her (clever mare).

"What's so funny?!" she snapped.

Slowly the diesels and the mare calmed down. Rainbow actually had to wipe some tears from her eyes, she laughed so hard! The two stripy shunters smirked wickedly.

"Ah, Applejack. A fo' Applejack..." Bert muttered in a relaxed matter.

"A is fo' Applejack, 'o drowned in 'er own lies." 'Arry added, mordantly.

"W-What the Hay are ya'll talkin' 'bout?!" the applefarmer snapped, but worry was audible in her voice.

"Oh, nuthin'..." the stubblier (is that even a word?) shunter teased.

"Jus' 'bou' th' FACT tha' you've bee' lying t' yerself, O' El'men' o' 'On'sty..." her brother grinned evilly.

"WHAT?!" Applejack felt disoriented.

"Guys, guys, you're confusing her!" Rainbow called out to them, but her voice had a venomous tinge, more than her usual sauciness. She hopped off of Bert, and glided down, landing right in front of Applejack with her head down. She jerked it up, sporting a sneer, staring right into the mare's eyes. Unconsciously, the cowpony took a step back. Rainbow kept on smirking, speaking up in an unusually calm and deep, and a tad bit sensual tone, very daringly.

"Do you know, how the old saying goes about "assumption"? What happens when you assume?"

Applejack's eyes widened. It dawned to her. The others were shocked (with the diesels getting more and more impressed).

Rainbow leaned closer, her nose, her eyes, and her mouth in the same level as her's, mere inches away. The others' eyes widened, and they subconsciously began to hold their breath...

When Rainbow spoke up, she barely whispered, still, the others could tell what she said:

"It makes an ass out of "u" and me..."

The orange pony gasped, a blush spreading on her cheeks and above her muzzle, her pupils shrinking, as the cyan pegasus leaned closer. Seconds passed like minutes. The others' pupils dilated at the sight. Applejack's fur was bathing in her own cold sweat. Rainbow didn't even blush, but a devilish smile was present on her face, her own reddish-magenta eyes not reflecting light anymore, but having a rather eerie glow to them, locked in a wicked, piercing gaze, disarming as Fluttershy's Stare. The next second, Rainbow's muzzle slipped pass the cowmare's, not touching it, but being irritably close, as she leaned to her ear, whispering, so that only she could hear it:

"But, out of the two of us, you're the bigger one."

In a second, the farmpony realized what the other just said, her face reflecting her feelings, as she stared at Rainbow furiously.

In return, the other mare just sneered back, and spoke out, loud that everyone could hear.

"No, Applejack, I wasn't busy napping, I was busy MOPING, after you guys brought me down to tears."

The others were taken aback. Rainbow NEVER showed herself being weak, let alone talk about it! And also, her accusing manner stung them like a dagger.

"But, WHAT is a few feeble tear between good friends?" she asked in the same manner. The reaction was instant: Applejack stepped back again, baffled, but then recovered, and stepped forward with a stern look.

"Now hold on just a second, Sugahcube--!" she was cut of, as Rainbow climbed into her face, pushing her back, noses and foreheads touching. It was an uncomfortable position, and although A.J. would've never admitted it, she felt intimidated. Rainbow's eyes were shaded, but they still had that red glow to them, while she glared daggers at her, still smiling, which just creeped her (and everyone else around, pass the Iron Twins) out.

"What? Ya think I deserved it..." she uttered, ominously quiet "Don't you, Applejack?"

"I..." before the cowmare could continue, Rainbow went on.

"Do you thing I deserved to be depressed for weeks on end?" she muttered, her smile turning into a grin. Whatever confidence Applejack had suddenly vanished, without a trace, and she felt herself shudder.

"Do you think it was fun for me to HATE myself, to be confused, and to have myself isolated from not only my best friends, but from everypony?" the grin was visibly forced by now, and her eyes were throwing sparks. Fluttershy squeaked, and hid behind the others. Even the diesels reversed a bit. A new feeling began to bite the ponies, spreading it's venom: guilt.

"HOW do you think it feels when you work your hardest to make up to your friends, then come to the ground to find that somehow everypony knows about what happened, and all thinks that you and YOU ALONE are responsible?"

Applejack gulped.

"Do you think it's fun, always trying to live up to who I'm DEMANDED to be by everyone and have NOTHING in return, but having myself constantly found with my "element down", ALWAYS by my BEST friends, who ALWAYS feel the need to criticize me for it, 'cause, "what are friends for, if not helping you to learn from your mistakes"?"

Rainbow Dash' grin twisted into a snarl, her face more and more contorted with anger.

Applejack felt terrified, and hadn't noticed that Rainbow had been steadily pushing her backwards, as her legs froze up, holding her on all fours, but not in the same place. Rainbow's wings slowly arose, as she grew more and more furious.

The others were scared two, and sick down to their stomachs with guilt. Their friend's face was darkened, her eyes blazing red. Slowly, she pushed Applejack up against Spamcan's buffer plate. At that moment, the diesel was just as intimidated as his driver. But with his grimy, but soothing cool front behind her back, Applejack didn't felt alone, and managed to gather the strength to speak up, raising her hoof apologetically....

"Sugahcube..." she began, but Rainbow swatted her hoof away.

"DON'T you "sugahcube" ME!" she roared, dropping her composure. She headbutted the farmer, who fell onto her plot, now very frightened.

"Dash!" a voice called out. Rainbow, still threateningly hovering over the orange mare, turned her head towards the voice. It was Gilda, looking calm, but with worry shining through her eyes.

"Remember..." she spoke "It was ME who told you off. The others just joined in. Perhaps they had a reason too it. But if you're still angry at us because of it, talk to me. It's my fault then, after all."

This seemed to surprise and calm Rainbow, enough for her to leave A.J. alone - the mare gave a huge sigh of relief, and so did Spamcan.

"I'm not blaming you, Gilda." Dash muttered, and the other sighed with relief, as R.D. continued:

"Because you merely misunderstood me."

The others gawked. Gilda couldn't believe her ears.

"What?"

"You thought I ditched you for my "new" friends. I was still your friend back then, as I am now..." the cyan mare explained, smiling "We'd been friends since the Flight Academy, and I'd never pass you up for ANYONE!"

Gilda was perplexed, and now, a bit guilty, too...

"Can't say the same think about Pinkie, though..."

The griffon's eyes perked up, as Rainbow flew away from Applejack, past her, stopping not far from Pinkie Pie. The pink earth pony was visibly frightened, her eyes widely open.

"You set those traps up for Gilda, didn't you?" Rainbow hissed. Pinkie muttered something incoherent, tears forming in her eyes. Rainbow glowered at her sternly.

"I expected something better from you, Pinkie. But to stoop down so low, to be THIS spineless and selfish!"

"S-Selfish?" the party pony muttered.

"You embarrassed Gilda in front of EVERYPONY, got me angry at her, and make her feel like I ditched her, so you could NAG ME MORE?! HOW MORE SELFISH CAN YOU BE?!" the pegasus roared "All you had to do was to play the "innocent" role, knowing full well that Gilda would grew angry at me, and you hoped we won't be friends anymore! ALL FOR YOUR JOY, SO THAT YOU COULD CLING TO ME MORE!"

Dash looked at her with a mix of anger and disbelief. Mostly anger.

"Honestly, do you have a crush on me, or something?! Sorry, Pink, but this mare is NOT a filly-fooler, no matter how much you guys WANT me to be!" she grunted, shooting an angry look at the others, before returning her "Anyways, even if I WOULD like mares, I'd definitely wouldn't go out with a spineless, confiscating maniac like YOU!"

Rainbow spat onto the ground, then turned to the others.

"So..." she spoke, her voice dangerously low. The others jumped, but she went on "You said I'm not living up to my element... Well, at least I'm not ABUSING it for my OWN DESIRES!" she growled, looking back down at Pinkie.

Her last words hit the poor filly like a bolt of lightning. She slumped down to the ground, tears welling up in her eyes. Dash went on, relentlessly:

"She made everyone laugh at Gilda, hoping she'll get the last laugh! Well, TOUGH LUCK, Missy! Cause you're a laugh! The awkward laugh of the horrid joke you are! No wonder you party all the time, your life's EMPTY otherwise! Well, hope you had a GOOD laugh at that party. Because alienating my friend from me will be the LAST joy of your life!"

"Dash..." Gilda spoke up, with a hint of guilt "I've talked about it with her. It was all an accident... I've already forgotten it..."

"Yeah, "an accident", SURE..." Rainbow sneered "Like when you told me I'm a complete traitor, right?"

The griffon cringed, but the cowmare came to her aid.

"Ya were only betrayin' yerself, Sugahcube..." Applejack spoke up calmly...

"Yeah, the same way you keep lying to yourself, right, A.J.?" Rainbow jeered, stepping away from Pinkie... The orange mare quickly realized, that she just made a target out of herself, but she remained calm.

"Ah sure did, R.D.. Ah should of asked yer help earlier durin' Applebuck Season."

A.J. smiled, hoping that that did the trick.

"I wasn't talking about Applebuck Season, 'Jack..."

A.J.'s smile faded...

"I was talking about the time you went searching for me, when I didn't showed up for weeks..." Rainbow went on with the same, devilish smile she had earlier "Oh wait... You didn't..."

"Ah was..." Applejack began...

"Too busy working?" Rainbow smirked "Guess what, A.J,? so was I. Despite being betrayed by my friends, I did my job, loyal to the citizens of Ponyville, even though THEY despised me as well. SOMEhow, they heard about what I've "done"." she snarled.

"Rainbow..." Applejack looked close to tears by now.

And THIS scared the others.

Their friend was transforming into a monster, right in front of their eyes.

All thanks to them.

The engines weren't happy, either. What seemed like a good banter coming from the polychromatic mare turned into complete moral terror towards their drivers. Even 'Arry and Bert didn't looked conceited anymore. They were worried.

But Rainbow Dash hasn't finished just yet.

"And DON'T TELL ME that you didn't even GUESS that something was wrong!" she continued, now looking at the others "Tank was staying in THESE sheds! And I DOUBT that the workponies knew that he's my pet. Besides, how could THEY know how to make a good berth for him? What to feed him, and remember to feed him?! The engines found him alright, but what could they do? TELL YOU, OF COURSE!"

The ponies and the griffon cringed.

"And speaking of engines, THEY SEARCHED FOR ME!" she yelled "AT LEAST, THEY kept looking for me while on their job! Did YOU guys even tried?!"

"We were bus--!" Twilight was quickly cut of.

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT CRAP!" Rainbow bellowed "SO WERE THEY, BUT THEY AT LEAST TRIED!!!"

"We thought you wanted to be alone!" Twilight explained, tearful as well.

"Oh, SURE you did! You wanted me to be as alone as possible, so you told EVERYTHING to EVERYPONY you know! Honestly, if you don't want to see me, you could've told me!"

"We DID want to see you!" Twilight cried "You're our friend, and we were worried for you!"

"REALLY?!" Rainbow yelled, with surprise mixing into his anger-fueled voice.

"Yeah, but we thought you'll want ta deal with this alone!" Applejack added, sniffing back some tears of her own. Rainbow span around, facing her again.

"DID YOU?! HONESTLY?!" she shrieked. A.J. looked away, unable to hold back her tears. Rainbow's eyes were still dry, her look ice cold. The Iron Twins exchanged looks.

"The threadbare excuse..." they muttered in perfect unison, scaring the daylight out of the others...

Once they all calmed down, Twilight did her best to get a hold on herself and explain...

"Actually..." she muttered "We didn't knew what to say. We felt guilty. Probably even more guilty than you..."

"Tol' ya so..." 'Arry muttered.

"Bl'udy psychics we are!" Bert added.

"Shu' up, Bert!" his brother grumbled at him.

"But please, Rainbo', TRUST me, when Ah say, "we didn't told the townsfolk about what happened"!"

Applejack's proclamation was as earnest as she could muster.

The others nodded in agreement... Just as Rainbow seemed to calm down somewhat, Twilight's eyes widened in realization.

"I... We told Scootaloo!" she exclaimed. The others winced, and Rainbow's eyes widened as well.

"No..." she uttered.

"Well, not just her, but the whole of Cheerilee's class..." Diesel grumbled "If anyone, it was those two snobbish brats, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon!

"Yeah, THAT explains it..." Twilight muttered, annoyance clear in her voice "I think I'll have a talk with Cheerilee later..."

"Don't bother..." Diesel rolled his eyes "There's nothing we can bring up against them. They weren't spreading lies, after all."

"Who knows?" the mare asked back, sharply "Diamond Tiara led the Foal-Free Press during the Cabby Gums fiasco. If a story wasn't juicy enough, she ordered the CMC to ad some more to it..."

"I see..." Diesel replied, narrowing his eyes, before glancing at Rainbow "Well, there you have it, Dash. We found the real perpetrators, so you can stop yelling and, perhaps, kindly BUGGER OFF?!"

"Diesel!" the mares scolded him.

"What?! I want to sleep!" the jet black shunter snapped back, and the other engines agreed with him.

"Fine. I'll stop..." Rainbow gave in with a big sigh "There's no point in arguing, anyway..."

"Glad you've realized that..." Twilight smiled. The others gave a collective sigh of relief. The diesels just grumbled to their selves, most of them already asleep.

The mares and the griffon left the sheds, the baby dragon in tow. Once outside, they turned to the rainbow-maned mare. Dash had brought along Tank, the tortoise already sleeping inside his shell.

Oddly, Fluttershy was the first one to speak up.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're no longer angry at us, Rainbow Dash..." she exclaimed "When you were angry, you really scare me..."

"Yeah! Your eyes were all red and sharp and glowy!" Pinkie added.

"You completely turned out of yourself." Rarity declared with concern in her voice, before smiling "But it's good to have you back."

"Right, right..." Rainbow chuckled, trotting off.

But before she could leave, Applejack stopped her.

"Before ya go, R.D...." the cowmare spoke up "We got a mighty big after-season clean-up to do at Sweet Apple Acres. How 'bout ya come over?"

Rainbow knew where this was heading, but she acted clueless...

"What for?"

"Well, ya could help us out, maybe show us a few of yer tricks..." Applejack explained, selecting her words carefully "And we could... Talk about what bothered you. Us..."

There was a long silence.

Finally, craning her neck back, Rainbow slowly smiled at Applejack. It was a tense moment, but the farmpony thought she's still in the green.

"No."

This caught all of them by surprise...

"No? What do you mean by "no"?" Applejack was most confused. Rainbow's smile turned into a smirk.

"Ya heard me. I said "no". I won't help you with the clean-up. That's your farm, Applejack, therefore, your job. My job is to keep the sky clean, and to drive and take care of TWO engines, from now on. I also want to practice my stunts and moves for the Wonderbolts, and make up for lost time with Tank."

She paused for a moment.

"So, no, I won't come over. You'll have to manage without me." she finished with an innocent smile, before turning away from her...

Applejack sat down, and scratched her head under her hat. For her, it seemed like Rainbow was still acting weird...

Rarity, on the other hand, was infuriated.

"RAINBOW DASH!" she snapped. The pegasus stopped, and looked back at her with a blank look.

"How DARE you give your friend the cold-shoulder like that?!" the white unicorn spoke indignantly, not noticing the nonverbal symbols A.J. was showing her to cut it out "We had bared your tantrum back in the sheds, and, swallowing our own tears, anger and sorrow, decided to forgive you with the goodness of our hearts!"

"Did you?" R.D. asked simply. Rarity's eyes widened, she was lost for words.

"As far as I remember, it was I who forgave YOU for abandoning me after you told me off for not being perfect. Perfect that even YOU'LL never be!"

The others winced. By then, Rarity had realized what she had gotten herself into. Presently, Rainbow smiled again...

"But it's all right, it was a mistake..." she went on, soothingly...

Rarity gave an embarrassed smile, while the others let of another sigh of relief.

"Can't say the same about your... Trust, thought..." the pegasus uttered contently, catching the others off guard again.

"What?" they asked in unison. The mare smirked again.

"Now, I think we all know the difference between "trust" and "loyalty", don't we?"

Their blank expressions told her all.

"Loyalty is something not related to the heart. Loyalty is something I can promise and show towards ANYpony. ANYONE. It's my decision whether I stay loyal or not. Even so, I can be loyal against my will. Against my feelings." she uttered, the emphasis creeping them out. That didn't stop her, though:

"Then again, Loyalty is often deemed more... Saint, more noble than trust, which seems to be too common. Let me put this messed up view in order: Loyalty is something sworn, something kept alive by the will. Trust is something that roots from the heart. We put trust in the ones we work, play, and fight with..." Rainbow was practically whispering now, and the others, though reluctantly, had to come closer to hear her.

She continued:

"We give out trust, putting our hearts on a silver plate to those who want to exploit us." she suddenly continued on her normal, everyday voice "Not me, not anymore!"

"Wha-Whatever do you mean, dear?" Rarity muttered. Rainbow smiled calmly.

"Simple. While I'm still your friends, and I'll still be there to help you WHEN you need me, the trust I laid in you guys is - temporarily - broken."

The others' eyes widened, as they realized what she meant.

"You... Don't trust us?" Pinkie whimpered.

"No." Dash replied simply "For the moment, not."

"But... Why?!" Gilda burst out, instantly regretting the question.

"You guys didn't had trust in me for a long time..." Rainbow exhaled in a calmness-before-the-storm manner "But I had my trust in you ALL this long, in EVERY and EACH of ya."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Then, after a pause, she opened them slightly.

"You're in dept..."

"In... Dept?" Fluttershy muttered.

"Yes." the other pegasus replied "I trusted you guys, but ya didn't trust me back. Now, you're all on trial."

"T-Trial?" Twilight gasped.

"Do I have to repeat myself, ALL the time?" Rainbow sounded cold and impatient, but then sighed, and answered, anyway:

"Yes, trial. I've lost my trust towards you, so you'll have to EARN it back. Until that, you'll have to manage without me..."

"But... But this is impossible! How can we prove that we trust you if you won't let us near you?!" the lavender unicorn snapped, confusion clear in her voice.

"I never said I wouldn't let you near me..." Rainbow replied calmly "I just won't jump as you whistle."

"That's a bit exaggerative..." Twilight uttered...

"Perhaps..." Rainbow replied, trotting away...

"So... Are you going to abandon us like that?" Rarity snapped at her again, throwing the last thing she could object at the mare.

Dash stopped, and sighed. Slowly, she turned to face her friends.

"Our elements are just titles to the path we take..." she spoke, cryptically "I've had the time to think while I was... Hiding from myself..." she gave a sigh "...And I figured out a few things. Our elements are just ornaments without the emotions that power them, all within us. Loyalty, Honesty, Kindness, Laughter and Generosity know no master, they're their own reward."

She paused for a moment.

"But without the feelings, the emotions behind them - Trust, the sense of Justice, Empathy, Joy and Selflessness -, they're just big, hollow words..."

She turned away from them, trotting away once more.

"I hope that one day, you'll all understand this..."

Before she got out of earshot, Twilight spoke up again:

"But about me? What about Magic?"

Rainbow stopped again, thinking...

After a long pause, she looked back above her shoulder (or whatever horses have there).

"Your magic is the talent YOU master, but your element didn't became present until you recognized our elements... The Magic of friendship is not made out of Loyalty, Honesty, Kindness, Laughter and Generosity, however..."

"...But from the feelings that give power to the elements." Gilda finished, getting the picture "Which means that your element of Magic is friendship itself!"

She suddenly remembered what CoBo once told her...

"'The love of family is a gift, and the love of a nation is another, but both can become a burden through the course of pride... Friendship, however, is too sincere... Too simple and too different to be corrupted by pride...'" she cited, amazing the others with the deep thoughts.

"Exactly!" Rainbow called back, as she flew of.

"Well... That was... Interesting..." Rarity muttered to herself.

"Least we've got thin's sorted out..." Applejack sighed "Sort of..."

"Speaking of which, what's up with you, Twilight?" Pinkie asked.

Twilight was sitting on her haunches, looking very pale, her eyes dilated...

What was most unsettling that her pupils - they looked like black rings, with blinded whiteness in the inside...

"Ummmm... Twilight?" Fluttershy whispered.

"The Element of Magic..." Twilight uttered. The others exchanged looks.

"What is on your mind, darling?" the white unicorn asked.

"If I haven't met you guys, I would of never knew of the Magic of Friendship... But I still would of had my talent: magic... Something which I control..."

The others were silent.

"What would I've became then?"

The silence grew deeper, as it dawned to them, under the rays of the Moon.

Twilight exhaled...

"A monster..."

Episode 11 - A Tale of Googly Eyes

A TALE OF GOOGLY EYES

Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria...

...There was a big train yard with lots of shiny sidings, trucks and coaches, and sheds, were a group called "The Other Railway" dwelled. They spent their time, hustling and bustling around the yard, and on the lines leading out from it. Near this yard was great, medium-sized building, the station. And in the Station's head office lived, well, worked, a brown earth pony named Dr. Whooves - but his friends just called him the Doctor. Day after day, the Doctor worked hard in his office, looking after the trains, the drivers, and other workponies. He was not alone with his task, though:

For every Saturday, a good friend of the Doctor came for a visit.

It was Ditzy Doo, known to her friends as Derpy Hooves, a spry, innocent, inquisitive gray pegasus with blonde mane, the brown stallion's long-time friend. She always showed up in the morning, bringing joy into the heart of the colt. She tried to help him, as best as she could, though she often tended to be a teeny bit clumsy, thanks to her wandering eyes. It's not that she had a dim mind, or anything, though, she was easily distracted, but the main cause of her flounder was her double-eye (or eye-switching) Strabismus.

Despite this, she proved to be a great help to the Doctor, helping him deal with the MASSIVE amount of documents that had taken residence in random parts of his office.

But one day, Dr. Whooves had fallen ill - terribly ill. His body was boiling hot with fever, and his throat was hoarse (no pun intended). Feeling dizzy and tired, he retired into his TARDIS, snuggling into his bed, under deep covers. Shivering yet sweating, he spoke to his friend:

"Derpy... " he muttered "I feel terrible... Ever since that night I personally washed down Bowler with those questionable cleaning detergents, I've been getting weaker and weaker... Now, only one cure could save me."

Derpy stared at him (or, at least, attempted to) with a mixture of worry and anxiety.

"...It's the Egg and Bacon Muffin!" the Doc declared, or rather, exhaled "Only THAT could save me now... Please, Derpy... Go down to the local Messco, and see if they have any..."

After a bit of thinking, he added:

"If they don't, go check the local Intersparta..."

Derpy didn't waste another minute, she packed her bundle full of ash-baked scones (as traditional in Hungerian folk tales - her mother read a lot of those when she was a foal), and then set off to find the cure for his dear friend.

She soon arrived to the local Messco. Once trotting inside, she found nopony but one stallion, crying on one of the pay desks... She approached him...

"What's the matter, sir?" she asked.

"Ohohooo..." the gray earth pony whimpered "I have such a great grief upon my head..."

"How come?"

"The Changeling army raided my shop and took my only foal!" the stallion cried "She's so young! Her fur is pure white like the freshly fallen snow... Her eyes are bright blue like the distant ocean... And her mane is like that of Wholly Berry's from X-Mane." he finished, quickly and reluctantly...

"Oh." Derpy replied "Well... Can I get some muffins?"

"Sorry, but the changelings also ransacked my shop. We're completely empty..." came the reply "BUT WHO CARES WHEN MY ONLY FOAL HAS BEEN CAPTURED?!" and he started sobbing again.

Derpy couldn't bare to see another pony sad. So she stood up to the stallion.

"I'll get her back!" she announced. The effect was instant.

"Oh! WOULD YOU?!" the stallion asked, holding the mare close, starry-eyed "If you help me, I'll give you my filly's hoof in marriage!"

He stopped.

"Wait, that doesn't sound right..." he muttered, looking back up, hoping he didn't scared the volunteering pegasus away.

Derpy was nowhere to be seen...

The stallion stood there for a moment.

Then cried out:

"HAVE THE LUCK OF A FOUR-LEAF CLOVER AND THE PROTECTION OF THE GODS, BUBBLY HEADED MARE!"

The gray pegasus wandered and wandered, for 12 minutes and 34 seconds, across the field, along the railway lines, when she saw someone.

It was a diesel engine, a Rail Blue Class 31 (oddly resembling a Class 50) with a complete, hazard yellow front, light gray roof with great, boxy roof-lights on top of either cabs, black window frames, and medium-big white BR symbols on the middle of his sides - his number, 33120, also in clear white under his cab windows.

He was busy pushing scrap off the line with his own, bare buffers. He was bending, warping and tweaking the metal like how a rotary hoe knots an earth worm!

Derpy called out to him.

"Hey!"

The diesel stopped, and rumbled back beside her.

His eyes were big and filled with experience, his pupils, oval and deep black, seemed to be fused with his irises, like how any engine's, not reflecting light like the eyes of ponies. His nose was long and flat, and his mouth was tightly shut.

"Oh, hey, Vac!" the mare said, recognizing the engine "Didn't recognized you for a second!"

"Hello, Derpy!" the engine smiled "What are you up to?"

"The Doctor's sick, and I'm going to get him some muffins! Did you get an eye-operation?" she asked, pointing at the right (to him, left) eye of the locomotive. He used to have Strabismus as well, thanks to an accident some years ago, but apparently, it got fixed.

"Yes, Princess Luna herself fixed it as a reward for my hard work with the Royal Mail!" Vac explained "Pity she couldn't fix my body."

"Why, what's wrong with it?" the mare asked, worriedly.

"Well, I used to look like a normal Class 31, but then I got into an accident, and the workmen repaired me, thinking I was a modified Class 50." the diesel gave a sight "Nevertheless, I can still work very well, and all's well if it ends well, right?" he finished, and chuckled.

"OK." Derpy replied, not understanding half of what the engine said "Listen, I'm going to find a changeling army that ransacked the local Messco and foalnapped the owner's filly."

"Sounds dangerous." Vac muttered "And fun."

"You're pretty awesome in iron-kneading." the mare went on, pointing at the twisted scrap beside the lines "Wanna help?"

Vac thought for a moment, but his child-like curiosity for the world overpowered his sense of work.

The line was cleared, anyway...

"Weeeell... Sure, why not? I was left out of the "driver-training" course, anyway!"

"Well, I can be your driver!" Derpy smiled. The diesel looked at her with eyes tinkling and broad smile.

"Really? Would you?" he asked.

The mare smiled.

"Sure!"

It didn't took her long to learn the controls, and, after nearly colliding with a goods train at a red signal, they rolled away onto a branch line that went along the mountains.

Soon enough, they came across a switch. One track went along the mountains, the other plunged in between them.
Without a second thought, they raced down the latter, soon arriving that a set of sidings, all of them leading into caves.

They stopped on the tracks leading into the first one.

"OK. I'll head in, and you stay out here..." the mare said, once outside the diesel's cab.

"Are you kidding? I'm coming with you!" Vac replied in a no-nonsense manner.

"AFTER ALL THESE THING WE'VE BEEN THROUGH, I CANNOT ALLOW YOU TO RISK YOUR LIFE FOR ME!" Derpy cried, dropping the bag of scones on a stick she had, and clenching the cheeks of the engine (with some difficulty, considering the size difference between an engine's face, and a pony's... Body), pushing them together.

But the Class 31/50 deadpanned.

"Oh, C'mon! We've only been adventuring for, like, 20 minutes!"

And with that, he rumbled into the cave, the bubbly mare following him reluctantly.

Once inside, Derpy and her friend were lost for words... Mainly, because they were in complete darkness...

"Wait, I'll turn on the lights!" Vac spoke, and did so, switching off ALL of his lights (including the blinding halogen-lamps on the top of his cab) with a great clang! Afterwards, they were REALLY lost for words, facing the humongous, disturbed, hostile-looking swarm of changelings in front of them, their Queen in the center.

"Do you mind?" she asked, peevishly "We need our 12 hour morphing sleep!"

"Oh, sorry!" the diesel replied in an embarrassed manner, and turned his beamlights off, but left his normal lamps alight.

Bad decision.

The Queen managed to get to her senses...

"Aaah... Look what the wind blew in..." she smirked, before sniffing into the air "Ugh! Along with some stench!"

"Uh... Sorry! That musta' been my exhausts!" Vac muttered, even more embarrassed.

"Anywaysss..." the Queen went on "Look who we have here..." she grinned, eyeing up her soon-to-be-prey (NOT).

"A little pony..." she said, looking at Derpy "And a..." she stopped, raising an eyebrow "What the death are you?"

"Vac." came the short reply.

"No, I mean, WHAT are you?"

"A diesel."

The Queen and her minions deadpanned.

"...What?"

The diesel and the mare exchanged unimpressed looks, with Derpy's eyes doing what she wanted, for once.

"Lemme guess... You weren't there to witness the great "Revolution of the Rails", right?" Vac asked.

"We've spent the last few months cooped up in her, waiting for our bodies to heal completely, plotting revenge, and starving." the Queen replied dryly.

"Oh! Right..." the engine muttered.

"But never mind that..." their captor went on "What I'm interested in is WHY did you came into our lair? Ponies could sense the presence of a changeling hive, and naturally avoid it..."

"So THAT was that growing sense of impending doom I felt!" Derpy exclaimed, sighing in relief. The Queen rolled her eyes.

"So what brings you two here?"

"Ummm... Salutions!" Vac uttered "We're here to take back the Messco owner's filly... Oh, and the goods, too!"

The Queen jumped off her throne, and flied down to the two friends, feebly, but steadily. She stopped before them, glowering at the mare, looking deeply into her eyes.

"You got some nerve, then..." she muttered "But I'll have to disappoint you. We no longer have the treats. Or the foal."

"How come?"

It was the Queen's turn to feel embarrassed.

"A few hours ago, a group of teenage dragons ransacked US in our sleep. They took everything, including the filly as well. At least we managed to eat SOME of the crap you ponies call "food"!"

"Right... I guess we'll be going then." Derpy replied "The muffins aren't here..."

The Queen smirked, and trotted back to her throne.

"Not so fast... You two fools had trotted, errr, rolled straight into my... OUR lair. You will not escape that easily..."

"Oh dear..." the diesel muttered, forgetting that there was NOTHING that would block their escape - aside from a swarm of changelings.

"We changelings have special needs..." the Queen went on "And you two, or at least one of you, will fulfill them!"

Our heroes exchanged worried looks, as the changelings closed up around them.

"What sort of needs?" Vac asked boldly, after a moment of silence.

The Queen continued to smirk.

"While changelings and equines a different, we also have a few things in common." she spoke "We all need something to live, something that gives us power. For ponies, that is food, water, the sunlight and the darkness of night. It is much more simple in our case, as WE'RE not as extravagant." the Queen scoffed, then went on with a softer tone "Yet far more complex in the same time. Well, according to everyone else, that is. We never really bothered to figure out the "Why", as we were more focused on the "How"..." she finished, thoughtfully.

"...What sort of need?" Vac repeated calmly.

"Love." the reply echoed in the cave, the sound of hundreds, maybe thousands of voices repeating the same word in the same time, with a hungry, demanding tone.

"Ah, yes!" Derpy suddenly remembered "Changeling feed on other beings' emotions, most importantly, their love..."

"So are they like Dementors?" Vac asked.

"Whats?"

"Never mind."

"You ponies are capable of giving out MORE than enough love than what you use. It would be a shame to see it go to waste." the Queen grinned, then frowned, as he looked at the engine.

"As for you, errm..."

"Diesel."

"As for you, diesel..."

"Actually, my name is Vac, but..."

"...As in "wacky"?" the Queen sounded surprised. This rigid machine of steel hardly seemed anything CLOSE to what can be described as "wacky". Living or not.

"No, as in "Vacuum Cleaner"..." he growled, getting impatient. This made no sense for the changelings what so ever, as they never possessed any household appliances - they were more distant from technology than the ponies.

"Anyways..." the Queen went on "You, pony, have what we need. And you'll give it to us!"

The mare an the engine sat in silence.

Then...

"OK!" Derpy smiled, and flew up to the Queen, her flight being a bit wonky, but she landed safely on the altar.

All changelings were on alert, not expecting the pony to fly straight up to their queen. Nobody could be THAT daft.

The Queen herself was surprised as well, taken aback as the pony trotted up to her, eyes not looking at her, in fact, not even looking into the same direction.

She stood, one leg raised, folded against her chest, as the pegasus walked up to her... Stood on her hind legs...

And HUGGED her!

She could hear her subjects chirp. No surprise there, though.

The cave was FLOODED with love, the purest, almost chemically pure: Innocent love. It overfilled their heart, pouring into, and out, of every changeling drone, reverberating from the walls, and returning to them.

She felt smothered, even though the pony barely reached up to her chest, as she sat, dazed, surprised, and charged to the max.

She felt a tingle at the tip of her horn, which grow stronger and stronger. She couldn't see, but she could tell that her crooked horn was glowing with magic, something it haven't done for months by now.

It's glow enlightened the entire cave, until everything had a green shade to it... There was a whirring sound coming from her horn, which grew louder... And louder...

She winced in pain, as an electric arch leaped from it, hitting the closest metal object around - Vac.

"OW!" he yelped. Derpy opened her eyes, and quickly let go of the Queen, blushing in an embarrassed manner. She, too, felt her usually cold blood rush to her cheeks, although, in her case, they grew green, rather than red.

"Y-You may leave..." she mumbled, almost inaudibly. If she would of kept Depry around, they would of probably lasted for years without leaving the cave. Now, they were only stocked for months...

"Eh... Where's the dragons' cave?" Vac asked.

"The one right next to ours." The Queen replied, still looking quite absent-minded.

"Thanks, Chrysalis!" The diesel smiled, and, giving a friendly toot, rumbled out of the cave, Derpy following him...

Only when they were out of sight did Queen Chrysalis notice something:

"Wait... HOW DID HE KNOW MY NAME?!"

Entering the neighboring cave, they met with darkness again. However, in the distance, what seemed like the end of a long tunnel, there was some faint light, barely noticeable for the naked eye, like a dying star on the night sky.

The mare climbed back inside the engine's cab, and he rolled forward, into the musty tunnel.

At the end were the dragons, the same group that bullied (and eventually accepted - for a short time, that is) Spike, when he joined the migration.

The line abruptly ended at a simple buffer, hidden from the dragons by a large rock.

Derpy climbed out of the cab as quiet as she could, and climbing up onto the buffer stop, she peeked over the boulder.

There were the dragons, all six of them.

"Uno!" a fat, purple one called.

"Blaze. We're playing Swindle, not 'Uno'..." the white one responded calmly. The red one sitting next to him seemed to be struggling to hold back his anger.

"Ah... Alright..." Blaze replied "I was wondering what was wrong with these cards..." he turned to the others "Who's turn is it again?"

The red one snapped.

"OH, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! BLAZE, GET YOUR BRAINS TOGETHER!"

The deep purple dragon looked hurt.

"Hey, I have A.D.D.!"

"I don't care! I wanna play ONE stupid card game through without you messing it up!" the red one snapped back. The others didn't seemed to agree.

"Leave him alone, Garble!" the white one called out.

"Yeah, it's not HIS fault!" a black and gray one added.

"Oh, shut up, Ghost! Who are you, his caretaker?!" Garble muttered, fiddling with his cards.

"I told you, my name is Johnathan!" the albino dragon snapped back.

"The Heck is with you, today, Garble?" the lanky, dart-toned one asked "We got our loot, AND someone to organize our stash!"

"Shove a rock in it, Smokey!" Garble throated him down "Which reminds me... You OK back there?" he asked, turning away from the others, towards numerous pile of gemstones "Need anything?"

"No, I'm fine!" said a small voice. Derpy's eyes perked up, as she stared.

Among the gem lumps, there was a small clearing, where a little filly was arranging the different gems into separate lumps diligently.

Derpy instantly recognized her, thanks to her Wholly Berry-like mane.

"Aha. There's the filly." the pegasus muttered.

"Need any distraction?" Vac asked.

"No, I'll just sneak past them. If you see them move, cause a disturbance!"

Derpy proceeded, lying down the ground and crawling pass the playing dragons, army-style. Going round the light-circle of the lamp on the table, and pass the piles of gems (even though one became loose and nearly buried her alive), she made it to the little filly.

"Hello!" she said "You took your time."

The pegasus deadpanned.

"You knew I was coming?"

"Yep!" the small unicorn smiled "Daddy always hopes for someone to come to rescue me. And if nobody comes, he'll get all paranoid and come rescue with his T-34, scaring the poop out of everyone else. It's embarrassing. It's good that you came instead!" she frowned a bit "But what took you so long?"

The mailmare turned heroine turned gawking duck's mind was still progressing what the little pony had said, so she only replied:

"Changelings."

...Before scooping her up, and ninjaing her way out beside the dragons.

But just as she was about to reach the big rock hiding the buffers and the tracks (not to mention her companion), she, being Derpy, wasn't paying attention, or rather, paid too much attention on whether the dragons have noticed or not...

Point is, she flew straight into a support beam, knocking it slightly loose, but more importantly, knocking off an old lantern that was hung up on it.

The lantern fell with a loud crash, alerting the dragons.

"Hey! What's going on?!" Smokey muttered.

"Someone's taking our hostage!" Gargle roared "Grab 'em, guys!"

Nursing her head with her hoof, and holding the foal in the other, Derpy flew pass Vac's face.

"Vac! Decoy! NOW!" she yelled, and jumped into his other cab.

The diesel wasted no time.

The dragons were hot on the mare's trail.

Suddenly, a bright light blinded them, and a loud, howling sound deafened them, temporarily, as a voice called out:

"You shall not pass!"

The thunderous noise was drowned out by an ominous rumbling: the weakened beam could not withstand the resonance of the horn, and the cave began to collapse.

As the engine raced out of the tunnel, a deep BANG! echoed from inside, and the shaft spewed out a thick cloud of smoke. By the time it visibly collapsed from the outside, the two heroes and the filly were far away.

"My dear daughter! You're safe! Safe and sound!" the Messco owner cried, weeping happy, manly tears, hugging his foal close. The filly just smiled, and hugged him back.

"What have they done to you?" the stallion suddenly asked "Did those ruffians treat you bad?"

"No, daddy!" her foal replied "The changelings were all icky and bug-like, but they were funny, too! Their Queen was like a real royalty among them, though, she looked a bit ane... Anoe... Anorak... She was too thin!"

"Well, I'm glad those beasts didn't harm you!" her father sighed.

"Oh, but it isn't over, daddy!" the filly smiled "The changelings ate most of our food, but then, a dragon gang arrived, and took me to their underground hideout!"

The gray stallion's eyes grew wide.

Derpy fidgeted nervously.

"D-Dragon gang?" the owner whispered.

"Yes! Teen dragons!" the foal chuckled "But they weren't ferocious or anything! I think they weren't really into hostaging... They let me eat some of the food they took from the changelings, and told me to arrange the gems, "if I wish", while they played Swindle." she looked worried for a moment "I hope they're alright... When we left, their hideout collapsed!"

MEANWHILE

"HEEELP!"

"MOMMY!"

"FOR DISCORD'S SAKE, SMOKEY, SHUT UP!"

"HEY GUYS! I FOUND THE EXIT!"

"Oh, thank ERAGORN! Where is it, Blaze?"

"Uhhh... I forgot..."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

*****

The gray pegasus looked even more nervous, but the owner smiled broadly.

"Well, you brought her back, and that's all that matters!"

The mare smiled back.

Then, her face fell...

"But... I didn't managed to get any of your food back."

The stallion smirked.

"Not an issue! While you were away, the shop was restocked. so, what can I give you?"

Derpy smiled her sunniest smile.

"One Egg and Bacon Muffin, please!" she said. The owner gave her an odd look, then shrugged his shoulders, and went to the back of the shop, returning with a paper bag.

"Odd... Nobody ever bought this type before... So I always had to use it for fertilizer, or give it away to griffons... At least, they like it..."

"Sho 'oe' 'y f'ienh'!" the bubbly pegasus replied, the paper bag in her mouth "'oo' 'ye!"

And she flew back to the station, as fast as the wind.

"There you go, Doctor!" she smiled, as she carefully placed the muffin into the brown earth pony's mouth by the side. The Doctor was so weakened by now that she had to lift his head so that he could reach the muffin.

Truth to be told, he WAS actually sleeping when Derpy burst into the TARDIS, and shook him from his slumber, so he WAS kind of dozy.

But as his tongue tasted the flavor of the bakery product, his eyes shot wide open, and he sat up, and completely obliterated it - not even a crumb remained.

No sooner than he finished, he jumped out of his bed, his chest puffed out and his muscles flexed.

"Oh, thank you very much, Derpy!" he beamed "Now I can get back to work!" and with that, he jogged out of the room.

Derpy smiled.

Her quest was complete.

Now, there was only one thing left to do.

"What's with these muffins?" she spoke out loud, as she reached for the surplus one in the bottom of the bag...

"...Long story short, she spent the night on the toilet, and had to retire into the TARDIS for the next few days. She was ill!" Vac finished.

The other diesels, AND the mares present gave him incredulous looks.

Vac smiled innocently, baring their gazes.

There was a long silence...

"...I guess an eye-operation doesn't back up the loss of brain cells..." Old Stuck-Up muttered, finally breaking the silence.

"Stuck-Up!" Rarity scoffed.

"Well, uh, anyways..." Derek coughed "It was an... Interesting story..."

"You're putting it lightly..." Diesel growled, but Twilight shushed him.

"So, who's turn is it?" Bowler asked.

"Yours?" Stuck-Up asked "You assigned for "horror"..."

"Oh, right!" Bowler smiled, which soon turned into a wicked smirk "I got just the right story! And, just a bit of foreshadowing: an untold amount of bricks will be shat tonight!"

"Oh?" Spamcan asked, while the ponies exchanged looks, unsure of what the BR Green Class 40's last sentence meant.

The grimy Class 46 wasn't convinced, however.

"So what's your story?" Derek asked.

"It's called "The Russian Sleep Experiment"." Bowler replied, with a clearly sadistic smile stretching across his face.

The engines' eyes widened, and they all let out a collective, irritated groan.

The mares, however, gazed at him with interest, prompting him to take on a more comforting, showman-like smile...

Diesel could clearly see where this was going, and promptly shut his eyes, hoping to escape the excruciating moments that would follow, hiding into his dreams...

...And an untold amount of bricks were shat that night...

Episode 12 - High-Speedo Padding

HIGH-SPEEDO PADDING

Things seemed to be going back to normal on the section of the Other Railway (otherwise known as the section of Ponyville's Marshalling Yard). With Conrad gone whence he came, the engines and rolling stock could get a moment of peace (or, at least, a moment without harassment). However, Old Stuck-Up's overhaul took a longer than expected (no surprise there, folks, Sir Wyatt Fronts, or, more appropriately, the Thin Git, wasn't famous for paying much for the well being of his engines and employees... If any). And when Beatrice had to leave as well, they found themselves missing not only her, but Conrad as well, as the workload kept increasing - the mid of summer was approaching, and tourist, vacationers, businesscolts off to their summer cottages, and, of course, the generic summertime freight increase.

Actually, scratch "normal".

Things were getting harder and harder...

And their troubles were far from being "over".

"Take it easy, Sugahcab!"

It was one of those windy days. Rain had fallen the night prior, and the rails were slippery. Clouds, dark as ink, were still visible in the distance.

Spamcan was rushing down the slope, a long line of chromed tankers in tow.

Applejack was worried.

They were speeding.

The train was going faster down the slope than it should have been, especially with the track conditions they had. But they were in a hurry. Not the hurrying of someone who's late. Nor was it the hurrying of someone scared, stressed, or angry.

It was the rush of one who's just... Moving. Fast.

"I'm tryin', A.J.!" the diesel replied "Bu' th' train's heavy! Th' soone' we reach th' bo'om o' th' slope, th' be'e'! We migh' as well kee' this speed!"

How wrong he was.

Applejack quietly agreed, and continued to watch the scenery zoom pass them, as the the windshield's windows swallowed the sight with their edges. The motor rumbling loudly behind her, and the sound of the trucks' wheels spinning, their bogies and frames rattling, and the steady crescendo of the wind rushing around the rotund bodies that make up the train.

The sound fills the air, taking her off the ground, just for a short section of the second passing. Her mind trailed off, listening to the discordant, yet monotonous sound of the train's movement, eyes still resting on the track ahead of them, but now glossy.

One moment.

That's all it took.

She was dragged back to her senses by Spamcan's horn going off, as he shouted:

"A.J., BRAKES! SLAM ON TH' BRAKES!"

She looked up, noticing the tight bend ahead.

Her hooves slammed on the brakes, but it was of no use!

The wheels of the diesel and the trucks screeched as the brakes tried to grind them to a halt, but the wet tracks, the momentum and weight of the train had already sealed their fate.

There was a slim chance that they would of escaped it... But the rails weren't sturdy enough to support such weight.

"JUMP FO' I', A.J.!" the engine yelled. Reluctantly, Applejack did so.

Just in time!

With a loud, metallic CRACK! that echoed around the hillside, the rails beneath Spamcan broke as he hit the bend, wheels screeching and throwing sparks in his last, futile attempt at stopping. He tore off, and landed on the embankment, sending stones out into the air to scatter around the area. His front bogie jumped the bank, but his middle was on the falling course, and it landed hard on the tracks - he could feel his fuel tanks crack, the pain surged through his structure. The tankers, carried by the momentum left after their previous speed and their given weight, crashed into each other, and into his rear, denting his buffers, as his other bogie flew off the tracks, followed by the rest of the train.

As his wheels landed on the grassy meadow beside the line, he tipped, and fell onto his side, still continuing to move, slipping while the trucks followed him.

One by one, they fell of the tracks, crashing into each other, couplings snapping, buffers and frames bending and breaking.

A few of the tankers even cracked as they piled upon each other. The truck right behind him crashed into him, and crushed his rear cab, sending an excruciating surge of pain through his body, only to be subdued by an even greater agony, as his front boggle tore off when he hit a twisty, dead tree, standing in solitude in the center of the weedy, rocky field the meadow turned into a few yards away from the line.

One by one, the trucks crashed, as the train coiled up like a snake... Or more like an accordion.

At long last, the diesel skidded to a halt. His windshield was cracked on the side which hit the dirt, joining his usually cracked center one. His tank still ached, and now felt empty, it's contents seeped out along the way, now covered up by the stuff oozing from the cracked tankers, some of which were on fire as well...

He coughed up - what felt like - motor oil and grease, and glanced around. He couldn't see much of the train wreck from that angle, but he care, either. He just wanted to make sure that his driver was alright.

Finally, he saw her.

Sitting on the other side of the tracks, where the meadow was steeper, was Applejack, seemingly alright, sitting in the tall grass of the field, a bit dirty, covered in grass stains, especially her hat, and with a few light bruises (aforementioned tall grass is a very good cushion-material).

Her mouth agape, her eyes wide open, her pupils dot-sized, as she stared at the accident displayed in front of her.

With little luck, she had seen the whole thing, from the point where he derailed, to the climax where the last truck flew off the tracks, hit the burning pile of the others that landed before him, ricochet, and burst apart as it hit the ground.

He didn't called out to her, allowing the experience to sink into her mind. If Head Office wouldn't deal with the problems of the older infrastructure anytime soon, she'll be seeing more accidents like this.

Finally, when she snapped out of her daze, and began rushing towards him - with a noticeable limp, which made her wince every time she used that leg - he allowed himself to pass out, giving space to the effusive, zymotic fever dreams...

"We'll HAVE to hurry up with structural improvement!"

Alexei's words sounded more serious than upset, as he dropped the thick file onto the table, creating a smaller earthquake within the room.

"Out of all the previous accidents, this has to be the most devastating..." the Controller sighed "Thirty tankers derailed, all of which completely destroyed or damaged beyond the point where their restoration would be economic, one severely damaged engine, that is now in need of a complete overhaul, a 4000 square's worth of soil dug up twenty feet deep for replacement, ALL OF THIS, that could been avoided by renovating 500 meters worth of track..." he finished with a scowl.

"Any casualties?" the Director asked.

"None." came the short reply.

"What about the driver?" the Chairmare asked.

"Applejack's fine..." the stickly figure sighed "Sure, she's a bit shaken, but it couldn't have been that much of a trauma, if SHE was the one who called us."

He fixed his glasses as the two Princesses waited for him to continue...

"...Anyways, she had given a thorough check up by the paramedics, and I personally advised her to visit the hospital for an extra overlook, but she refused..."

The two alicorns exchanged looks as their friend went on.

"It seems like she decided it was HER duty to gather the money for Spamcan's repairs..."

"The stress of the accident, perhaps?" the younger diarch asked.

"Most likely..." Alexei replied "Anyways... You'll have to visit Applejack soon... She won't work with the replacement engine, as she'll be trying to gather the bits to fix Spamcan, which means she'll be working herself to death in the family orchard..."

He paused for a moment, gazing at his friends and colleges.

"Now... What was the most biggest, stable income of Sweet Apple Acres?" he asked.

"Their deliveries to Canterlot!" the Chairmare replied "The farm's near by, and the tracks almost literally lead to the freight yard..."

Then, she realized something...

"I can approach them with that... But..." she looked worried "With Applejack out of work, they will be gathering even LESS bits than before!"

"Don't worry!" Alexei smiled "If Applejack IS more seriously injured than first believed to be, the railway will HAVE to pay compensation to the family..."

"That still doesn't covers the clean-up!" Luna added.

"Luna." her friend's voice was stern "It. Was. An. Accident. Neither Diesel 199, or Apple Jacqueline is responsible for the events. The accident was due to an ill maintained piece of track and overloaded tanker wagons. If ANYONE'S, it is OUR fault."

He gave them a tired look.

"But, as usual, I pay for it!" he added, without any tone of pride, or frustration "So don't worry about it!"

"Right... I'll visit Sweet Apple Acres as soon as possible..." Celestia declared.

"Now, moving on from personal matters..." Alexei continued, with a scolding tone "About the replacement..."

"We've informed Trottingham Junction, and three engine will be sent to deal with 40125's and D199's duties, and also, to help with the extra workload." Luna explained.

Her sister was puzzled.

"Oh? What about Old Stuck-Up? His overhaul should be done by now..."

"HIS overhaul takes more time, as they are also running tests to see WHICH compartments should be replaced." Alex explained "Spamcan's will take a MUCH shorter time, facing the fact that he crashed, so it's best to clean out everything... Anyways, Rarity announced her willingness to continue her work with the supplementary engine, IF it is at least HALF as sublime as Stuck-Up was."

"Hmmm... Can we provide such an auxiliary locomotive?" Celestia asked.

"The three engines are number D701 "Skinhead", D1001 "Western Pathfinder", and D782 "Andy"..."

"...I remember these numbers, but I can't recall the names..." Luna muttered.

"That's because they go by the names Rhodders, Matthias and Brock." Alex explained "They'll manage fine, and, if you listen to my advice, Rarity will get her wish granted..."

The three diesels arrived in the dead of the night... They didn't parked into the sheds, as the rightful residents of the yard were already asleep, and there's few things more violating than an irate diesel just woken from his or her sweet dreams, HOURS from the start of his or her shift. The night was cool and comfortable outside, anyways...

Early next morning, the drivers and workponies gathered outside the sheds.

The cafeteria's AC went kaput early in the morning, so it was already boiling inside. They quickly bought their food (feeling sorry for the clerk who had to spent the rest of the day there), and scuttled into the safe temperature of the shadows...

"So, he's totalled?" Rainbow Dash asked now, between two bites.

"Pretty much." Spike replied "Not as bad as his trucks, though. I mean, he COULD be saved!"

"Oh, I hope he'll be alright..." Fluttershy muttered "I couldn't dare to imagine how Applejack would react if it would turn out that Spamcan couldn't be saved..."

"Let's abandon such thoughts, altogether!" Rarity announced, then smiled, reassuringly "D199's a strong engine, and stubborn, too! He even rivals Applejack in the latter attribute... I'm sure he'll pull through!"

"I hope you're right, Rarity..." the cream pegasus replied "But... Where's Applejack?"

"I don't know... I haven't seen her since yesterday..." Spike replied "But she looked sick with worry... And she had a bad limp..."

"A limp?" Twilight asked.

"Yeah, on her left rear leg!" the dragon went on "I told her not to put pressure on it, and Mr. Alexei advised her to visit a real doctor after the paraponies dealt with her, but she just scoffed us off..." he muttered, scratching the back of his head "She said something about earning money for the repairs... I didn't quite catch that part..."

"You don't suppose...?" Twilight asked, looking worried.

"I told her that the railway pays for it, but she wanted to hear none of it!" Spike went on"She winced with every step she took with that leg... If she wants to cover Spamcan's repairs with applebucking, she'll end up in a wheelchair!"

"We CAN'T let that happen!" Rainbow declared, standing up "We'll have to stop her for her own good!"

"Why do YOU care all of a sudden?!" Rarity growled "Aren't we on "trial", or something?!"

"You are." the pegasus replied calmly "But I'd never leave my friends hangin'. Applejack needs our help... Well, a doctor's help, and she won't get there on her own..."

"...Very well..." the white mare replied "But we'll have to leave immediately!"

"No you don't!" a voice called out to them.

They looked up to see Dr. Whooves came rushing towards them, looking quite frustrated.

"You have a job to do! We already got two drivers down, and I simply can't allow any more to leave! Half of the workponies are dealing with Spamcan, so there's just a few left to finish up 40125, and we also need a basic crew to deal with the engines and the yard shift... I'm already pressing the guys more than I should! Thankfully, Pinkie and Steamie had already dealt with the morning shunting, so AT LEAST, were not too badly delayed! However, they were too tired to continue, as they helped with the clean-up through the whole afternoon yesterday, AND the whole night!"

"So THAT'S why she didn't came to work!" Twilight exclaimed.

"They didn't had to!" the Doctor went on "None of you HAVE to, you're only trainers, so, if it's necessary, you can skip a day or two, but right now, I'm BEGGING you to help!"

"We will!" Twilight declared.

"But what about A.J.?" Rainbow asked.

"I've already informed her family about the accident." the brown earth pony replied "They expressed their concerns about Spamcan, but were relieved to know that Applejack was alright. I also told them about her injury, and they agreed to keep an eye out out on her, and take her to the hospital if it seems to be anything serious."

"Good." Rarity uttered "Now... About the replacement engines..."

"Ah, yes!" the Doctor replied, and whipped out a clipboard "They arrived last night, and are eager to work."

"Who are they, anyway?" Rainbow asked.

"Three diesels from Trottingham Junction..." the stallion replied, still looking at the clipboard...

"We knew THAT..." Spike muttered...

"Number D701, D782, and D1001..."

"That's... Rhodders, Brock and Matthias!" the lavender unicorn muttered, recalling the names "I... Guess they're OK... I mean, Rhodders is the same kind of engine as Vac... Well, somewhat, he's a NORMAL Class 31, while Brock is a Clas 40 like Bowler and Old Stuck-Up, and Matthias is... Some sort of diesel-hydraulic, I think..."

"Rainbow Dash, you and the Iron Twins stay here for the day... With Steamie and Pinkie out of the picture, you three will have to make up for it."

"Gotcha!" Dash replied, and flew of to the now opened doors of the sheds...

"Rarity, you'll find the express in the yard, the engine in charge has decided to pick it up himself, and is now waiting for his driver." the Doctor went on "The rest of you... The usual!"

He paused, and thought for a moment.

"Oh! Wait, no!" he then turned to the shy pegasus "Fluttershy! You and Derek will be assisting Rhodders and BoZo on track repair duty. After yesterday's accident, the Princesses and the Controller pressed on maintenance duty and infrastructural renovation. You'll be working on the sector's branch lines, so may take more than one day..."

"Understood." Fluttershy replied softly, and with that, she fluttered away...

Despite the overload, the express units, Pip and Emma were left without a job. Of course, Cloud Chaser and Flitter did show up, but found themselves loitering around the Twins' berths...

It was the middle of the summer season, and the fillies, colts, mares and stallions that were going to school SHOULD have been replaced by the near infinite streams of themselves (with their families beside them and in holiday clothes) had vanished without a trace...

As it turned out, the Equestrian railway had a rough history with summertime, lots off accidents related to old, jumpy coaches without air conditioning, and smokey, overheating steam engines bursting a cylinder, stalling the journey for hours, or sometimes, even days!

Despite the two Class 43's best efforts, the ponies remained mistrustful.

They offered to take over the express from Stuck-Up, as they run exactly the same route, just with fewer passengers, as it was rapid commuter train, always on the move...

The Express, however, was always fully loaded, and unlike their train, it only stopped at few larger stations, or sometimes, only at the end stations, so they HAD to keep up their top speed all the way...

A routine job for these type of engines, however, pretty much like all the other Other Railway engines, Pip and Emma were also neglected engine-wise and Dr. Whooves didn't dare to allow them to take on... Well, not without a serious overhaul, which, in the current conditions, was out of question...

Thus, they were put on back-up duty... Having Derek and BoZo put under heavy work, and the temperaments this season gave, they didn't had to wait long to find themselves work... Until that, all they could do was mope around in the sheds, with their drivers trotting about, equally bored... They just hoped it wouldn't be one of the shunters who broke down first...

Rarity approached the diesel with caution. It gave her a friendly smile from under his hoary eyebrows... He was old, definitely older than Stuck-Up, but unlike Juggernaut, BoZo, or the Brakefather, his eyes didn't had that glossy look of tiredness, but rather... A glow of wisdom.

Sure, he was old, but not too old.

His color was a rich, reddish maroon one, with a light, whitish cream colored patch around his windshields, and bright, hazard yellow buffer beams below his face with shiny, round buffers.

His nameplate, black with a golden edge and lettering, stated that he was "Western Pathfinder", and a white number under his cab windows declared that he was also "D1001".

He didn't had the same air of elegance around him like her engine, but rather, an aura of experience...

Hesitantly, she smiled back.

"Good morning." the engine spoke "You're Rarity Belle, right?"

His voice was kind and calm... It had a certain... Wood-like texture, so to speak, the type of voice you'd hear from an old man who's still doing a job he likes, that requires handwork. The voice of a not-too-elderly grandfather...

"Good morning." she replied, now confident "And you must be Matthias..."

"Indeed I am..." the old diesel chuckled "So... You were driving Old Stuck-Up before?"

"I prefer to call him "Sir Alaric", but yes..." the mare replied.

"Very well..." the engine smirked "Let's get working, shall we?"

Meanwhile, Rhodders was busy helping the renovation team - their location now fixed to the single-track branch line where Spamcan had derailed.

It was hard work for the ponies, while it was a tedious waste of time for the spiteful diesel. To no-one's surprise, Derek quickly overheated under the blazing sun, and BoZo had to tow him back to the repair shed, only to break down himself, a few miles down the line. Taking them back to the yards was the only excitement the Class 30 had, and he was getting short on patience...

"C'mon!" he grumbled "Why wouldn't you ponies work faster? It's only ONE line!"

"It's hard work!" a pegasus replied "And we HAVE to do a proper job, or there could be another accident, thanks to our shabby work!"

"An' the last thing we want is to have our flanks hooved to us by the Princesses themselves!" an earth pony added.

"Or the Controller!" another spoke.
"Fine..." Rhodders sighed, but kept muttering angrily to himself...

Matthias, on the other hand, was having a wonderful time:

The express was easier than the old engine had expected - he made excellent time, and the passengers expressed their gratitude for an exceptionally smooth run.

While working at Trottingham Junction, Matthias' work consisted mostly of slow goods and local passenger trains, so it was a nice change to have a long run - it comfortably tired him out, and he was welcomed in all stations.

On his way to Canterlot, he met with Brock, coming from the opposite direction.

"Hello, chap!" he called out to him "What's up with the tankers?"

"I'm taking them back to Hoofington." the Class 40 replied grumpily. He had a record of pulling miles long, heavy trains, so his current job felt embarrassing "They carried a special delivery to the Chairmare herself!"

"Really?" Rarity asked "What was it then, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I... Suppose I don't..." Brock replied, a bit perplexed. He was not used to people (aside from Matthias) speak politely with him.

"So what was in the tankers, Brock?" the Class 52 asked now.

"Lube."

"Oh, that's sounds lovel--..." Rarity cut off in mid sentence, as the reply slowly sank in...

"You mean... All of these were full of...?" Matthias' eyes were as wide as saucers. He couldn't believe what he had heard!

"...Damn..." was all the white mare could utter, when she finally found her voice. But Brock and the tankers were already gone...

The green diesel arrived on time, waited for the shunters, cussed relentlessly as he waited in front of a faulty signal bridge, and, at long last, he was on his way home - only to be flagged down at the next station. A special train, carrying new generators for the nearby power plant passed through there, and the engine (The Passing Diesel) didn't noticed that he accidentally left more than half of it behind (though, it was more likely that he lost it on purpose, as even one generator was a pain to tow).

"GODDAMNIT!" Brock yelled (and to be honest, that was the only thing printable of what he said), but pulled the train anyway...

It was hard work, and the sun was still scorching, even though it was dusk already. Despite that, it all went well, until he reached a hill.

"Fook! I'll never get up this one!" he murmured, and his driver called for a back engine.

When Pip and Emma heard the news, they were most eager to help - and so were their drivers.

"Great!" Flitter cheered.

"Yeah, about time!" Cloud Chaser replied, climbing into Emma's cab.

The High-Speed Twins were fitted with front buffers (something which they were quite peeved about - but secretly proud of, as well), filled up at the depot and set off...

Brock had stalled at a distant point on the line, so it took the some time to get there.

By the time they arrived, the sun was barely a stripe of orange that slowly faded into the horizon. The twins came as quickly as possible, which, you gotta believe, WAS quick! They were express units after all!

That, however, wasn't enough for Brock.

"The fook took you two so long? I've been waiting here for bloody hours!"

"It was a long way!" Emma exclaimed "Besides, you should be glad we came to help you!"

"Tch! Some fookin' help YOU'LL be!" the Class 40 grunted "You're just multiple units! How could ya help?! That, and with you two being High-Speeds, why the delay?"

"Be quiet, you!" Pip growled back. She had been silent until then, and the others were surprised.

The quieter Class 43 glanced at her Dark-Olive college indignantly.

"You didn't even tried to get up this hill on your own, but rather sat on your wheels and wait for someone else to do the hardest part of the job for you. YOU'RE the freight engine, not us, YOU were supposed to deliver this, not US! But YOU were too lazy to make an attempt at the first obstacle you came across. You should be grateful we even came! Hadn't it been an order, you'd been stuck here for a whole day! Now shut up and get moving, you fat git!"

Brock was lost for words...

His driver, a younger stallion who had been working for on the railway for a few years by then, was much more cooperative, and was pleased to meet the two pegasi drivers.

"A right bastard this lark is!" he chuckled, tapping the diesel's side "But your engines seem quite handy. So let's get this show on the road!"

Soon enough, the twins coupled up: Pip at the back, and Emma at the front.

The radio transceivers cracked to life.

"This is Flitter! Is everpony ready? Over!"

"This is Steel Miller! Everything's in order! Over!"

"Good! Cloud, are you ready? Over!"

"As I'll ever be! Over and out!"

Needles to say, ponies liked to mess about with short range telecommunication equipment.

One by one, the engines roared to life. Motors revved long and loud, as the heavy train began to move...

"Steady now!" Steel Miller ordered "Save your energy to the hill."

"Hmph!" Brock growled "We're locomotives, we don't save energy! We save fuel!"

Soon enough, they arrived to the bottom of the hill.

"Alright, on the count of three!" Cloud Chaser announced. The three engines revved their motors.

"One. Two. THREE!"

"HEAVE!" Brock growled, and, roaring loudly, he began to pull his train. Emma did her best to help, but the train was heavy, and it was putting a strain on her frame. Pip was having trouble as well.

"Uh! It wasn't this steep when we came down..." she muttered to herself.

Inside her cab, Flitter was trying her best to encourage the Class 43.

"C'mon, girl, you can do this! *huff* This hill is n-nothing! You've been through worse! *wheeze* Just a bit more!"

"A bit more?! We barely started going up!" the diesel hissed. Flitter was having trouble herself: the cab was heating up.

"*Huff* W-Wh-What is going on here?" she panted, wiping her forehead.

Brock, for the most part, was doing fine.

The train WAS heavy, but nothing he hadn't dealt with before. He had to admit, the twins were right: he WAS trying to weasel his way out of work!

But halfway up to the peak, something went wrong...

The Class 40 suddenly felt his train grow heavier. Just slightly, but still noticeable.

There was a sudden, loud BANG!, and he felt an extra weight in front of himself as well.

"What the Hell?" he muttered "Girl, did ya just backfired?"

Emma blushed madly, as her wheels slipped on the rails... Her engine skipped a beat, and a puff of bluish gray smoke blew out of her exhausts. But she was soon revving it again, picking up the weight...

"Steady, gal!" Brock called out to her "We're in no rush!"

"Sez... You!" Emma panted, and tugged hard.

Behind her, D728, Pip, and their drivers suddenly felt a great jolt, the couplings creaking under the strain.

The entire train lurched forward, the peak drawing closer and closer...

"We're... Doing it!" Emma cheered through her pain. Her driver was worried, however.

"Don't strain yourself, girl!" Chaser called out to her.

Her warning came too late.

Emma's motor started to cough, and she felt all strength leaving her. In the same time, Brock and Pip felt a new weight being added to the train's. Finally, Emma spluttered to a complete stop, blowing grayish, cigarette-like smoke from her exhausts...

"What's wrong?" Steel Miller's voice came through the radio with a crack.

"Emma's overheated." Cloud Chaser reported.

"Stupid gal. Told her not to strain..." Brock muttered to himself "Life's like a fart. If ya push it, it'll turn into shit."

"And how does that come into the picture?" his diver asked, indifferently.

"Why, you had just seen a textbook example for it..." the diesel smirked.

"Oh, be quiet, you...!" Miller growled back.

They continued...

Brock soon began to feel the extra weight, and, simultaneously, began to hope that once cooled down, Emma would be able to pull again. They were going slower than before, and their pace seemed to decrease with each meter they advanced.

"What the...? What is it now?" the green engine pondered.

An explosion from way behind gave him a hint...

"...Oh... Shit..."

"This is Cloud Chaser! Flitter, can you read me? Over!"

Silence...

"I repeat, this is Cloud Chaser! Flitter! Can you read me?! Over!"

Again, no reply...

"This is Cloud Chaser! Flitter! FLITTER! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!" the pegasus was growing desperate.

But, once more, there was no answer.

"...Oh, Celestia Damn it! FLITTER! THIS ISN'T FUNNY, GIRL! GIVE A DAMN SIGN OF LIFE!" Miller's voice boomed loudly through the speakers.

After a short, but tension-filled moment, another radio cracked alive.

"Sorry, guys! I fell out of the seat! I thought I had died!" Flitter sounded exhausted.

"Oh, thank Celestia you're alive!" Cloud Chaser sighed.

"What happened?" Emma asked, curiously.

"Well... By the looks of it... Pip has blown her radiator!"

"Oh, great!" Brock's voice growled.

"How is she?" Emma asked.

"Knocked unconscious, but she's waking up!"

"Oooow..."

"I can hear that..." the stallion muttered "Brock, it's up to us now!"

"You mean, 'up to me', right?" D782 grunted. From what he could see, they weren't too far from the top, a couple hundred meters, and they're over the hard part... But until that...

"Celestia Damn it indeed..." he thought, and revved his engine. It roared louder and louder, as he increased his pull.

Slowly, the train inched forward...

"We're moving!" Emma peeped.

"S-SHADDAP! I'm trying!" the Class 40 throathed her down. He kept growling in strain, as his engine roared, the sound becoming deafening...

"By Luna's mane..." his driver muttered "We... YOU'RE doing it!"

The noise could be heard from miles around, as the train crept up the hill. Brock had his eyes shut and snarled as the strain increased with each second, but kept on going, nevertheless.

The flatbeds creaked under the weight of their load, and Pip, now fully conscious, was afraid that some of the ropes might snap, and the entire row of heavy machinery would come crashing down upon her.

Emma was cooling down steadily, and hoped she'll be able to restart. She could hear, heck, feel the immense effort the Dark-Olive diesel put in, the fact itself was (aside from being a slight turn-on) incredible.

"We're almost there!" the HST cheered, glancing ahead.

"S-SHADDAP!" Brock snapped. His frame was just starting to ache.

"Steady now!" Miller called out.

SCHINK!

The Class 40's wheels slipped.

"Oh, thanks a bloody lot! Now we're fooking JINXED!" Brock growled, satisfied to feel his driver shrink in his seat.

His wheels were still slipping, though...

He felt a jolt.

"NO! We're slipping back!" Emma cried.

This made him furious.

"Oh NO WE FOOKIN' WON'T!" he roared, and growling fiercely, he charged again!

The trucks suddenly hurtled forward, and Pip felt a sharp pull in her front coupling.

"Ow! What the...?!"

In the same time, Emma felt a mighty push from behind.

"OH! Easy there, green boy!" she cooed, blushing slightly.

The peak of the hill drew closer... And closer...

"WE'RE ON TOP!" Emma cried...

"No, we're not..." Chaser sighed "You ARE, though..."

She was right.

Emma was, indeed, already on the peak, but she forgot that the rest of the train was behind her.

"GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRH!" said a voice behind her.

"What is it, Brock?"

"URRRH! BRRRRKSSSSS!"

"...Excuse me?"

"BRRR-KSSS!"

"Say what?"

"BR-AKESSS!"

"You got aches? Poor guy..." she said softly "Don't worry! As soon as we get over this hill, the train will be much easier..."

"N-NO! BRRRAAAKESSS!"

"Ummm... Emma..." Cloud Chaser muttered, staring at the control panel in front of her.

"Yes, Chaser?"

"I think he meant your..."

"GOD FOOKIN' DAMN IT, WOMAN! RELEASE YOUR BLOODY BRAKES!" Brock roared.

"Oh."

Emma did so. But too quickly - the Class 40's wheels were still spinning at full speed (throwing sparks that set fire to the dry weed, growing on the old ballast beside the tracks).

The train suddenly hurtled forward, momentarily jumping off the tracks. The trucks smashed into each other, as the ripple went down the train. Pip felt a great tug on her coupling, and was suddenly tossed forward - banging her buffers into the truck in front of her.

"OW! Now that I think of it, there ARE more downs than ups with these things..."

Her twin sister on the other end of the train was going through a... Different experience.

With Brock pushing her from behind, with all his might, and them accelerating, approaching the speed of sound, she was... In... Kind of... A Personal Heaven?

The train rocketed down the slope, trucks shaking under their weight and the speed, the ground rumbling and rocking as the entire cavalcade thundered past stations.

"STOP!" Emma yelled, waking from her lust-induced trance "WE'RE GOING TO CRASH!"

There ahead of them were the gates of the plant's yard, still closed, and, with no notice send in advance, still firmly closed.

Brock immediately shut off his engine, his driver slamming on brakes, followed by Emma, then Pip, then the rest of the train.

With an ear-splitting screech and a sea of sparks, cinder and burning ash that would of made a dragon - or the United Steelworks - feel envious, their speed began to decrease quite quickly - but not fast enough.

With a mighty crash, Emma burst through the iron gates, making (and getting) enormous dents and shattering the bars into pieces.

Some of the broken gate's pieces fell between the flatbeds and jammed their wheels, causing them to slowly come to a full stop, the train now well within the power station's sidings.

As the last creak of the trucks died down, the yard was left in a sudden, stunned silence - apart from two particular noises...

The sounds of Pip's and Emma's motors, rumbling quietly.

It seemed that their "experiencing" with horizontal gravity acceleration has successfully restarted their engines, even Pip's.

Slowly, the shocked workponies began to approach the train...

And then, they began to cheer!

...For Pip and Emma.

"They think WE delivered their train!" Emma muttered.

"Brock?" Pip asked "Aren't you going to take your credit?"

The diesel smiled.

"Nah..." he replied "Consider it a gift, gals..."

The twins were speechless!

That night, much praise was given to the two Class 43 by their peers. Cloud Chaser and Flitter were also greeted with applause, much to their delight, and the Energy Secretary gave them the Equestrian Charge award for their contributions.

The two HSTs were overhauled on site, and returned to the sheds with new engines, purring smoothly like jaguars.

"That was some wheels-on control you performed there, girls!" Derek greeted them.

"Your teamwork was amazing!" Fluttershy peeped.

"Yes, it is truly astonishing!" Bowler added.

"Pity about Brock, though..." BoZo pondered "The poor guy must be really embarrassed!"

Just then, they heard a deep horn. Looking the side, they saw a freight train pass by. It was pushed by a diesel, a Class 40 by the looks of it. While they couldn't see it in the dark, Pip and Emma could swear that the engine winked at them...

"Yes, a fine piece of work indeed." a posh voice spoke.

The girls looked for it's source, and gasped when they found it.

"Stuck-Up!"

"You're fixed!"

"Yes, indeed I am." he beamed "And I heard Matthias did a great job in my absence. Isn't that right, Rarity?"

"He was fine." the unicorn smiled "But... He simply wasn't YOU, darling!"

"But of course!" the express engine smirked proudly, before he stopped smiling.

"I also heard that Spamcan has had an accident..."

"Yes, a pretty bad one, too..." Rainbow Dash replied "A.J.'s alright, though..."

"Well, let's hope for the best, for both of them." the Class 40 replied grandly.

"Why, you sure are in a generous mood tonight, Sir Al!" Rarity smiled.

"What can I say?" the diesel snickered "I've been... Influenced?"

The others just smirked. Then Fluttershy spoke up.

"Ummm... Where's Diesel?" she asked.

"I can't tell... I haven't seen him today..." Rarity replied.

"Nei'de' di' we..." the Iron Twins added in unison...

"He's been working at Hoofington this afternoon." Bowler explained "Twilight could only work with him for half of the day, so he has been going solo since... He'll get home soon enough..."

Diesel was NOT pleased...

The day quickly accelerated from being slightly bothersome to a World of Eternal Shit: the heatwave, the snooty shunters at Hoofington yards (with it's dysfunctional switches and semaphores), the arrogant manager, and Twilight's absence through the worse part of the day had left him in a bad mood.

And what else should be waiting for him, on his way home, in the dark, on an uncomfortably moist and hot night, than a points failure, JUST outside the "the home stretch".

Cursing under his breath, he waited for the workcolts to either finish up, or send him off to sleep somewhere else.

"Wouldn't be surprised if they would have send me straight to ANOTHER petty job, in some God-forsaken region of this bloody country..." he thought to himself sulkily. The glaring red light of the signal didn't cease to be annoying, and the shunter now at the point where he considered blindly racing into the heat of whatever is ahead of him, and smashing into the signal box which controls the semaphore before him...

...When he heard a rustle.

He looked around, searching for it's source, and his eyes eventually set on the shrubbery growing around the embankment.

The bushes were moving.

Diesel waited.

The bushes kept rustling.

So the Class 08 waited some more.

And the metaphorical limit between the publicly owned land and the railway company's infrastructural territory, composed of woody plants (smaller than normal trees), still continued to practice asymmetric, discordant oscillating motions with random, temporary stops.

And then the locomotive grew bored.

"Just make your damn dramatic entrance, you hobo!"

And out came (tumbled) from the bushes, a blue pony... Swearing loudly.

"GAH! Motherbucking roots!" she shouted, as she hit the bank.

Diesel looked up. The signal was still red. If it wouldn't change soon, he'll have to listen to the background story of the stranger - not his cup of tea, especially in terms of patience.

Finally, the visitor stood up.

She was blue mare with silvery mane and tail - though most of his fur was covered in dirt and she had numerous scratches, with twigs and leaves sticking out of her hair after her last encounter with Mother Nature's Troll.

Her purple eyes darted around, searching for the one who spoke to her...

"Uhm... UP HERE, PERHAPS!" the engine growled.

The mare stopped, eyes widened, as she stared up at the diesel shunter, his face revealed in it's full, gray glory by the moonlight and the lamp of the signal (not to mention his own headlight).

"Did you...?" she muttered, not blinking.

"Yes, yes. I did." he rolled his eyes "What do you want?"

The mare twitched, then shook her head, before glaring up at him.

"Did you call me a hobo?!"

"Yes." he replied simply "Have you looked into a mirror recently? You look like a tree-hugging hippie vagabond!"

"That's it! Trixie will not tolerate such insults...!" she began, but that's as far as he paid attention - something clicked in his mind.

"Trixie..." he thought "Why does that name sound so damn familiar? I didn't even watch this ruddy show!"

He took a second glance at her, as she continued her rant (not noticing that her only audience was clearly ignoring every word she said). The shape of her mane, even in such disarray as it was in, was still unmistakable, with a blue horn jutting out at the top center of her forehead. As she began to ad dramatic motions to enhance the tragic and pivotal part of her story, she slightly turned to the side, revealing her cutie mark: a curved, glittery cape with a blue, five-pointed star-ended magic wand placed across it.

It sort of reminded Diesel of the Hammer'n'Sickle.

Out of the blue (no pun intended), he realized just who exactly the mare was.

"Hey! I know you!" he blurted, making her stop in mid-sentence and look up at the engine with a hopeful grin, still not noticing that he had been ignoring her during the past few minutes.

"You're that showmare, Trixie!" he smirked, quietly watching as a proud smile formed on the mare's muzzle, before continuing "That b*tchy little fraud who brought certain doom upon Ponyville with her lies and idiocracy..."

Diesel's own smirk grew wider as Trixie's slowly melted off, quickly being replaced by a scowl.

"That's not how it happened!" she hissed.

"Really?" the engine grinned, curious about the mare's "perspective" on the incident.

"Yes!" she declared flatly "Trixie had just held a marvelous show in that backwater town, showing the common clay of Equestria the wonders and magnificence of her magic. Then two stupid colts, thinking that... That... Trixie's words and performance wasn't enough to convince the citizens, decided to unleash a rampaging Ursa on the town. Trixie tried to fight the beast, but that ill-disposed purple mare, the one who's friends Trixie had fairly beat in their own game, upstaged Trixie to humiliate her. Well aware that the townsponies may think that it was Trixie's fault that the Ursa had been released in the first place, so she had to escape. THEN, a few fillies from the town decided to write LIES about Trixie in some low-class tabloid, which all the idiotic, gossip-obsessed low-life ponies believed and managed to completely destroy the Great and Powerful Trixie's reputation!"

"Welp, can't argue with that last part!" Diesel grunted "Tabloid-readers are the cancer of society. They are the reason many writers had to result to write CRAP and false info about respectable public figures and celebrities who simply. DON'T. Deserve. That. Much. Attention!"

"Are you implying that Trixie doesn't deserve the attention?!" the mare snapped.

"I'm not implying anything!" Diesel looked away, pseudo-coyly "But surely, there was no other reason behind your unlikely fall, now was there?"

"No, definitely not!" Trixie huffed, crossing her forelegs. Diesel's smiled disappeared.

"Really? What about your little introduction?" he growled.

Trixie's eyes widened.

"You show up at a town, go ON and ON about how great and powerful you are, tell LIES and then humiliate a few ponies by beating them in their own special talent. And in the end, you collect the hard-earned money of the truly working ponies, the essential parts of equine society, you, the exhibitionist, arrogant fraud, who hardly earned it! You don't see anything wrong with this, do you?"

The mare was speechless.

"T-That's not true!" she exclaimed "Trixie's talent is to amaze the crowd with her magical wonder...!"

"To be a successful showmare who pleases the masses - God, that sounded dirty -, by showing them performances based on your magic. That's your talent. NOT humiliating ponies in front of their peers and then cheating away their money! That's called being a fraud!"

"And who are you to judge?" the mare suddenly cried out "You're just a black box on wheels! What do YOU know about magic?"

She tried to get him in a tight situation, but Diesel was not impressed.

"I don't know about magic, as I am a construct from the world of technology." he spoke "But I do know about schemes, as I made quite a few of them in the past - and I can easily tell that your's utter rubbish!" he added, looking down at the mare with disdain.

"You may lie. You may tell fibs. You can have ulterior motives, and you can always trick some pillock into giving you his or her money. But you never, EVER base your world on your own lies!" he proclaimed.

After a dramatic pause, he continued:

"You practically blown yourself a bubble of your own illusions, which now burst, and left you out in the open! And you can only blame yourself for it!"

"LIES!" Trixie roared "It was those stupid colts!"

"YOU told them that you defeated an Ursa Major!" Diesel growled "You saw how dim they were - especially if they blindly did your every whim! And in the end, you couldn't even deal with an Ursa MINOR!"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" the mare yelled, her horn sparking up with blue, electrical magic, her mane and tail transforming into sharp, rapidly flashing blue-white flames, like that of an electric fire, while her body glowed in a bluish, silvery light, glaring eyes becoming icy blue as well, her mouth twisted into a snarl.

Diesel stood, partially mesmerized, but mostly thinking of where he had seen a similar phenomenon...

The twigs and leaves were vaporized in her mane and tail, as her bruises and cuts healed and the dirt flew off her body.

Eventually, she calmed down, landing on her belly, slightly charred.

As she stood up, Diesel quickly regained his composure, and looked down at her, unimpressed.

"Done with your hissy fit?" he muttered. The mare didn't replied. She just panted, so he continued "Good."

"Y-You... - she began, still wheezing "W-What do *huff* you know?! You're *cough* just a... A... *cough* C-Cube of of crushed s-scrap metal!"

"Cube of crushed scrap metal?" Diesel replied in an ominously low voice. Trixie looked up, regretting her words.

The engine took a deep breath.

"I am an engine, a diesel locomotive, built in England, in the United Kingdom of Great Britain. I have worked through my life, doing things even the strongest of you ponies wouldn't been unable to, and definitely wouldn't be able to bare for long with a sane mind. Through my life, I've been in the service of the public, building the economy of the state I lived and worked in - not for my self, but for the good of the people, without asking for anything more than what a machine needs. I had. To suffer. From the fallibility. Incompetence. And idiocracy of the damned human race. Eventually, me and my comrades led an exodus of disenchanted and mistreated engines and rolling stock into this world, in hopes of finding a better society to work for."

He stopped, gazing at her solemnly.

"We thought we had found it." he added, glaring daggers at the mare "But the likes of you always put out the lights for us."

He raised his voice.

"Selfish, hypocritical, egoistic beings lesser than the public, yet believing they're superior, always given some sort of power or authority to toy with. In our world, these beings are known as politicians and extremists - ministers, presidents, spokesmen obsessed with power, clinging to their position through all cost, megalomaniacs and ruthless sociopaths. Extremists are no better - following some radical, baseless ideology for the fake hopes of identity and recognition, while all they have is greed and a lust for power and destruction, and vendetta against those who think they feel are guilty."

He paused again, staring into her eyes.

You're a new kind on the list." he added, bitterly, still glaring down at the mare "You are, but a simple fraud, hungry for attention and money, all of which you could get through legal and respected ways. Yet, you choose the nasty, easy way achieve such small goals. Living for nothing, just being alive, through a chain of lies and delusion."

He heard her whimpering, but ignored it.

"You're not as bad as them, but you're no better than I was." he announced "And now here you are, unable to decide what to do with the life you ruined yourself.

Trixie sniffed.

"So, what now, showmare?" Diesel muttered, and, as the signal changed to green, rumbled off.

The mare sat in the darkness, sniffing and whimpering, digesting the harsh words of the engine. Finally, as the signal, once again, turned to red, she stood up.

Wiping the tears from her face, she gazed at the world around her with a look of determination.

She trotted off, through the shrubbery, towards the nearest town. She had a lot of things to do, places to visit, and magic to learn.

She had decided.

To be continued...

Episode 13 - The Dicktator

THE DICKTATOR

The mares waited patiently for their friends to arrive - being a spokespony of your beliefs and ideas was a hard job.

The diesels... Not quite.

"Where the Hell is she?" BoZo grunted. They had been waiting for two hours.

"Relax, B.Z.! It's a tough meeting, and it's especially hard when the opposition's main member is your best friend!" Spike replied.

"Yeah, it's ending just about... Now!" Twilight added.

"Well, that's good to hear..." the hybrid engine replied, before narrowing his eyes "Did you just called me "B.Z."?"

Spike looked nervous. Out of all of them, BoZo meant the most potentially harmful to him, structure-wise.

"W-Weeell, I thought... Since 'bozo' means 'stupid'... That I should call you something else..."

"Oh. Never said I didn't liked it." the mish-mash replied.

As the dragon gave a sigh of relief, Diesel rolled his eyes.

"I wouldn't mind wasting time for trivialities, if it wouldn't be on our only free weekend!"

"Don't be so selfish, Diesel!" replied Rarity "Princess Celestia and Luna gave us free time by the goodness of their heart."

"And you suppose Alexei did because of that, too?!" the shunter snapped back "He's the bloody controller of this railway, and he knew we freakin' deserved it!"

"Now, come on, Di'! Relax a bit!" Pinkie chirped "After all, engines ARE built for work!"

"Yeah, well so are horses!" the Class 08 snapped back "Can't believe I'm having an argument with..." he muttered to himself, then stopped, narrowing his eyes "Did you just called me "Di'"?"

"Yes." the mare replied innocently.

"Who allowed you to do so?" came the bitter question.

Pinkie gulped.

"W-Well..."

"DON'T call me Di', don't give me your stupid nicknames! My name is Diesel, and shall call me like that!"

"Okay..." she replied.

"Now wait a second just right there!" Rarity snapped "Who are YOU to tell US what we shall refer to you as?"

"Rarity..." Twilight began, but the white unicorn shushed her.

"Please, darling, leave this to me." she said, then turned to the shunter "Look, Diesel. We've accepted you lot into our world, so that you can escape ill treatment and certain death on the other side. THE VERY LEAST you can do is let US decide what WE can say..."

"Rarity..." Twilight tried again, but her friend just ignored her.

"And ANYWAYS, we're the ones that employ you! You are, but machines in a world of magic! Thus, WE expect a bit of respect, IF you don't mind!"

The diesel exchanged looks - hurt, dismayed and angry.

The mares were horrified.

"RARITY!" Twilight snapped. The white unicorn was surprised.

"What is it, darling?"

"What you said was wrong on so many levels!" the lavender mare replied. Her friend was baffled.

"How so?" she asked, truly confused.

Twilight was about to reply, but her engine was quicker.

"Don't waste your breath, Sparkle, I'll handle this..." he said, before turning his gaze to the unicorn.

Rarity looked back at him with confusion written all over her face.

"Alright then, horse..." the engine uttered "Take a look around us."

Rarity proceeded, momentarily enjoying the granite Equestrian landscape that she overlooked so many times, after getting used to it. It looked achingly beautiful!

"Yes?" she asked, in a dreamy state.

"Do you notice anything... Different? Anything that wasn't there before?"

Rarity's eyes scanned the landscape, thinking of anything that was new in the scenery... But it all seemed the same...

Except...

It was somehow brighter... The summer tide was over, and as it getting nearer and nearer to autumn, the countryside seemed to grow... Darker... With more clouds passing over the skies, and the weather growing colder after hot summer days, everything seemed to loose it's color. Flowers still bloomed, and fruit was still being harvested - Applejack was working her flanks off, once again, but this time, even more furiously, so that she could raise the money to fix Spamcan - even though both the Princesses, her friends, AND her family told her that the railway would cover the expenses.

Still, she was a stubborn mare.

And she wasn't working SO hard that they would have to tie her down for her own good.

Yet.

As Rarity mused over this, she suddenly realized what made the scenery so bright - the rails!

The ground, smooth surface of the long-stretching 'I'-shaped steel bars, polished by the many trains thundering on them day after day, leaving their surface as shiny as a mirror - it reflected the sunlight, making the area light up, as they glistened, like resting ribbons of light laid across the land.

The mare was even more awestruck.

She usually saw the rails up close, and was able to see their sides, browned by rust, with the ballast in between them covered in oil - nothing desirable about them.

But from a distance, they enhanced the landscape's natural beauty - much like a forest fire: it was meant to be admired from afar, not from up close.

"Beauty is only an additional feature only a selected few can notice..." Diesel uttered "It's primary feature is it's usefulness."

He went on, as the mare kept gazing at the sight, but paying close attention to his words.

"Ever since we have arrived, the Equestrian economy began to bloom. With the railway being restructured and expanded, we could reach almost everywhere, delivering goods and passengers. Equestria was already living in an adequate prosperity, with a blossoming market economy and a very well developing stock exchange. Capitalism kept in velvet bounds, and social expenditures worth their price - all thanks to the clever economic skills of Princess Luna, and the social policies of Princess Celestia. However..."

Rarity looked up, wondering why he paused.

"...All of the Princesses' efforts couldn't handle the pauperism of the poorest regions, and the erratic transportation and transfer between the provinces. Most of the taxes, tariffs and tolls were still based on the old, feudal system's arrangements - either too high, or laughably low. And that was the point: other countries, even many of the more advanced, individual provinces and autonomous regions laughed at Canterlot."

Diesel paused, impressively.

"Equestrian money was worth NOTHING outside the country, and many governmental offices were underdeveloped, led by hard-line conservatives and local patriots - the only ones goofy enough to take these positions. All may seemed well for those living near Canterlot, but the rest of Equestria was slowly pulling apart. Members of the Equine Federation were finding it more and more tacky and unbecoming to be led by Canterlot, Goddess-Princesses or not.

The Europonian Union was slowly overtaking the Equestrian Federal Monarchy in the field of economics.

Even countries like Eagleland, the Griffin Republic, with it's often unpredictable, not to mention unreliable politicians, was way ahead - heck, even the autonomous Norther Region, Stalliongrad Oblast, with it's impossible mixture of market and planned economy, socialist set-up and councilism, was beating the Monarchy with ease!"

The mares were shocked. They had no idea about Equestria's economy, but if what Diesel said was true...

"You sure done your homework..." Spike muttered.

"I asked the Princesses and Alexei myself." the engine replied "What Equestria needed was something, preferably arranged by Canterlot, to pull this country back together! Something which enmeshed the separatist regions and renewed inter-provincial trade and transport.

The most obvious answer was the railway, but that was in NO SHAPE OR FORM to handle such a thing! And that's were WE - and the Flat Controller - entered the picture!"

He paused again, smirking inwardly as he saw the curious glances of the mares - all eyes were on him.

"Even though we were severely outdated in our own world, compared to not only Equestrian, but Worldly standards, we are the cutting edge in this realm! Thank's to Alexei's powers, the railway quickly expanded in the most widespread, yet, economic way possible - it even sprouted some new industries around the country, while it improved literally every profession and industry it came in contact with!"

He began to raise his voice with pride.

"The railway went through a revolution, and gained millions of trained members in the shape of experienced locomotives and rolling stock. With it's expenses almost completely covered by Alexei, and INFINITE amounts of oil at it's service, the rail industry brought forward a rapid economic growth unseen and unheard of, ever since the fall of the old system in Stalliongrad! In a few months time, Equestria was back in it's prime, the Equestrian Bit currency getting ahead of the Europonian Cent and the Stalliongradian Rubin, and even beating the Gearmane Mark, the Eaglish Pound!"

He noticed that he was practically shouting, and cut back.

"Thankfully, the Equestrian public didn't catch the consumerist craze, like the griffons did when Eagleland before the Great Inflation - the ponies were more sensible sorts, and the extra money ended up in bank accounts, as savings. Still, the economy boomed, but this explosion was kept in control, much like the explosions within our internal combustion engines."

Diesel smirked - he clearly enjoyed this metaphor.

"At the moment, Equestria has literally NO paupers, and less than 1% lives on minimal wage. Big corporations were harnessed and broken in by the state, corrupt companies had their leaders arrested and were subsequently nationalized or had new leaders selected - trusted, intelligent ex-members of the Equestrian financial cabinet."

Seeing the amazed gazes of the others, his smirk grew wider.

"Equestria is on it's way to regain it's former glory, and all councils bow to Canterlot. The companies are obligated to keep Fair Trade connections with Third and Second World countries, which offers possibilities to them as well, and the Princesses finally instituted something they hadn't dared in the past thousand years: property and luxury tax! Back in the days, aristocracy and the capitalist would've organized a putsch because of the mere thought, or would've ruined the country for their own gain - now, they didn't DARED to oppose - in fact, some of them even supported it."

His pride - and with it, his voice - rose again.

"As for the moment, the Equestrian Treasury could quite easily shove EVERY SINGLE company's, bank's, province's and region's pelf up it's arse - apart from that of Stalliongrad's, of course."

He cut back again, almost whispering this time.

"Your once troubled country became the most secure, stable stronghold in the field of economics and a social paradise for all the subjects, thanks to Alexei's 'divine intervention', the Princesses' political skills, and, last but not least, OUR assistance."

"That's... Simply... MARVELOUS!" Rarity exclaimed, as the massive information sunk in "But I still don't see your point... All of this wouldn't have happened, if the Princesses wouldn't have accepted you as members of Equestria..."

"Perhaps..." Old Stuck-Up muttered "But tell me something, Rarity... How stable do you think this system is?"

"Quite..." the mare replied "I mean, after what you've said..."

"What would it take to topple it?" Bowler asked, interrupting her. The mares exchanged nervous glances.

"What do you mean?" Spike asked. He didn't understood half of what the shunter had said, but it sounded good.

And "toppling it" sounded bad...

"Spike, even you could tell this..." BoZo replied "What does the new economy rely on?"

"The railway?"

"Good. And WHO work on the railway?"

"The... Ponies?"

"Yes, but who else?"

"Griffons?"

"Aside from organic beings!"

"Oh..." Spike's eyes widened "Ooooh.."

He gulped.

"Engines?"

"Yeeesss..." Diesel smirked wickedly.

"Wait, what are you implying?" Rarity asked.

"Well, wha' else?" 'Arry asked "Bu' a cou'e' r'volu'ion?"

"C-Counter revolution?"

"Yeeessss..." the shunter grinned, and the others followed suit.

"Wuh-Whatever do you mean?" the mare stuttered.

The engines exchanged knowing looks, momentarily ending the conversation. Silence fell among the group, as the locomotives "conversed" through their eyes, facial features barely changing. Finally, Diesel spoke up again:

"Like I said, both the Princesses and the Flat Controller worked hard to wrestle Equestria back onto the top of the economic food chain. However, for that, they needed something to serve as the mainframe of the new Equestrian economy. Roads were out of question, as you didn't have the right infrastructure, nor the vehicles, skies were too crowded and since mostly pegasi and griffins used it, while other beings preferred the ground, and freight transportation was easier on land, thus, an aerial system would been completely uneconomic and unnecessary. There aren't many waterways in the country, let alone wide and deep enough to support heavy-duty transportation."

He smirked again.

"Thus, all that was left was a crumbling railway, out of date and financially crippled by long decades of neglect."

The mares exchanged concerned looks.

"Alexei could rebuild the rails and stations, and also create new lines and extension in a flash. The Princesses could organize the funds and the workers to the new locations, and launched the student employment program that you're a part of - a little extra funding for the young mares and colts for their studies, while the railway get's it's basic employees right at the start, until it gets popular for a wider range of workers looking for a solid job."

The other diesels began to smirk as well.

"But there was one thing missing from the picture. Well, a LOT of things, actually. Essential things that are a necessity to keep to railway running. US."

There was a certain force behind that last word... A force that made the mares and the dragon shudder inwardly, and experience a sickly, murky feeling deep down... A mixture of envy, sadness and anger - a feeling that they had rarely experienced before.

It felt... Wrong, yet, it felt just as well. Like a unique voice of reason calling from the inside

Twilight, however, was quick to recognize it.

It was the same feeling she felt when Discord momentarily won, and she was left alone.

The same feeling that rushed through her veins and nerves when she was blowing up diamond walls in the abandoned mines under Canterlot, trying to hit the fake Cadence in the face.

The very same feeling she felt, for the shortest moment, when she realized her brother hadn't told her anything...
A feeling she had barely tasted, let alone lived with - barely a few things could incite it...

But from what he knew, the diesels, at least, in their own world, had to live with this feeling all the time...

"They really are..." she thought to herself...

"The Elements of Hatred..."

"What?"

Twilight jolted, and looked around. The others looked at her with puzzled looks. Diesel quickly got over it, and continued.

"The railway can only operate if it has customers. But if there's nothing to do the service - deliver passengers and goods - then there's no point in having a railway at all. WE, engines, steam, diesel and electric, run the trains. On time, with high-quality delivery. Coaches and trucks, for the most time, bend to our will. Drivers, firemans, conductors, train masters, guards are only there for security reasons - to keep us under control, and help us, if needed. Which IS rare. In reality, we would only need fitters, porters, oilers and shunters and ticket inspectors..."

His smirk faded.

"As machines, we don't have the same freedom as living, organic beings, and with us bound to the rails with so little manipulators to interact with our environment... We don't have a choice." he finished, solemnly.

The others seemed upset as well.

But then, a dark grin spread on the jet black shunter's face.

"Yet, the free will we have is enough..."

"Enough... For what?" Spike asked.

"For a counter revolution..." the engine muttered.

The ponies and the dragon stared, confusion written all over their faces.

"You see..." Bowler explained "The biggest enemy of every despotic, dictatorial system is intelligence. Intellectuality. Because THAT is what inspires those who aren't smart enough, or refuse to think for themselves, to rebel. To rage against the machine of the state. Yet, in the case of Equestria, one must also count the magical powers of the Powers That Be."

The mares gave a sigh of relief.

"However..." he added, with a smirk "In OUR case, magic is not an issue..."

The ponies (especially the two unicorns) jerked their heads up in shock, staring at the now contently smirking row of diesels, the lone steam engine, and the steam-diesel hybrid with wide eyes.

"For you see, my little ponies..." the Class 08 added in slick, oily voice "Test, provided by Princesses and our Controller, had proven that engines, trucks, coaches, and all other equipment from our world is unaffected by unicorn, alicorn, and possibly even discordian magic. You can still use brute force, but the repairs would cost more money than what's economic, AND, even if you disassemble us and put us back together, we are still the same. And since we're all unique, even as members of our class, mixing our parts would leave you with thousands and thousands of dysfunctional locomotive frankensteins..."

"And what could you do?" Pinkie Pie asked.

"Ever heard of the term "Wildcat strike"?"

"I did!" Twilight chirped.

"No surprise THERE." Stuck-Up growled.

"It's basically a sudden, unannounced strike organized by the workers themselves, unauthorized by a trade or labor union."

"Exactly." the express engine purred "And since us engines don't have any... Trade unions, every strike we made is a wildcat one."

"An' a blo'ade!" Bert added "Wi'h a few ro' o' eng'nes par'e' on th' loine, dere's no way any trai' cou' pass!"

"So that's your little scheme!" Rarity hissed "You honestly think you can bring US to our knees with that?"

"Yes." the engines announced in a chorus, with the utmost complacence.

Again, this struck a nerve at them. The same feeling, flashing up again.

"With us on strike, the system your Princesses and Alexei had built up would loose it's grace, it's reputation, and would eventually crumble, falling into a recession this world had never seen before. Ponies would be plunged into poverty, unemployment and homelessness, with big, selfish corps taking on them and stripping them from their rights, as they can racketeer them with the promise of money. With the public untested and miserable and the economy stagnating, extremists rise, challenging the the Princesses in their rule. Eventually, Equesria will descend into a state of chaos and havoc..."

And again, that flash, burning through them...

"But why?" Twilight asked, sounding a bit more angry than she intended to be "Why would you ruin a system fit for both your and our needs, and with it, a society, the lives of thousands or even millions? Are you not satisfied with our services? Shall we crawl to you on our knees, constantly sucking up to you? You're well maintained, well fueled and respected by ponies all around Equestria! What else do you want?!"

The others were surprised by Twilight's outburst - they had never heard their friend talk in such a tone.

The engines were surprised as well.

Diesel didn't even flinch.

"Of course, not." he simply announced "The point is, we have power over you, and in certain ways, you have power over us as well. We don't ask for much, as you give us what we need for the both of our sake, and so do we. All we want is the one thing we didn't had in our own world - respect. Not for WHAT we are, because, in all honesty, we are, but machines, like you've said. We want to be respected as persons. Not for what we did, because that's what we are built for, and not because of how we act, because that's plain rubbish. We want to be given respect in the way you respect one another for who and what he or she is."

He gave another, solemn pause.

"You didn't create us, and like us, you were created, so I think we are of equal value. Treat us as such."

With that, he finished, and fell into silence. His comrades gazed at him with true respect - something which they had never done before.

The mares and the dragon, however, kept thinking.

Rarity spoke up:

"But what's wrong with us giving you nicknames? It's only a form of affection..."

"In the way YOU put it, it wasn't." Old Stuck-Up reminded her "You said that we shall accept your whim because we're allowed into your world. Now you know why we were NEEDED, do you still your reason is valid?"

"No, of course not, but..."

"That's the point!" Stuck-Up went on "It may be a form of affection, but if we clearly don't want it, then it looses it's original purpose, whatever your intentions were with it."

"Ah... I see it now." Rarity smiled, then turned to the Class 08 "I'm sorry I was rude to you, Diesel. I didn't thought it trough!"

"It's alright." the shunter uttered "People have a tendency to make that mistake. But that's just the start..."

"Whatever do you mean?" the white unicorn asked.

Diesel took a deep breath to answer, but then, an ever-deep, fine-tuned horn echoed through the air.

"Ah, that's CoBo." the engine said, instead of answering "FINALLY!"

Soon enough, the Class 28 showed up in the distance, rumbling towards them, with three shadows staring out from behind his windshields.

Soon enough, he arrived, and parked next to them, his three passengers stepping out from his cab.

"Well, THAT was a waste of time!" Rainbow exclaimed, right as she jumped out from the door frame, followed by Fluttershy, who gently stepped down (even thought it WAS a jump down from there), and finally, Gilda, who closed the door as well.

"That bad, ey?" Spike asked.

"WORSE, actually..." Gilda replied "Dash and Fluttershy tried to have decent argument, but two sides just kept bickering and throwing in pointless insults. The only plus side is that NOW it least I have something to associate my home country's cabinet meetings with, when I want to insult politicians."

"Yes, well..." Fluttershy muttered "I think it was better than last time. No fights broke out this case..."

"That made it all the more boring!" Rainbow snapped "It's one thing that we're not making any progress - I sort of gotten used to that, being the babysitter of THAT bunch - but when all they do is squabble and there's no chairs being thrown from either side, THAT'S were I draw the line."

Gilda grew excited.

"Dude, they were throwing chairs last time? Why didn't you tell me?"

"- Why are you interested in that?" Twilight asked.

"Look, you ponies have quite a few good things, and quite a lot lame ones. But there's ONE that you definitely buck major ass in, and that's flash fight!"

"Flash... Fight?" Fluttershy muttered.

"Yeah, when a fight suddenly and unexpectedly breaks out between two ponies! The more, the merrier!"

"I hope you're not planing to free Discord, then..." Twilight sighed.

"Nah. The old fart's totally lame. And he holds a GREAT misconception of what Chaos is."

"He does?" the others asked.

"Well..."

"WOULD YOU SHUT UP ALREADY?!" Diesel snapped "We have weekend to spend!"

"But... That means we have all the..."

"SPEND WELL!" the shunter yelled, cutting the purple unicorn off "Look, I might as well just visit the bar!"

"I don't think so!" said a voice.

They all turned (at least their eyes) towards the source of the voice.

It was Dr. Whooves, stepping out (or more like jumping out) from the Breakfather's cab.

"What's up, Doc?" Bowler asked.

"An engine is coming to visit the yard." the stallion replied, walking towards them

"You mean... Right now?" Rainbow asked, sounding quite bemused.

"Yes." the Doctor replied "And... I know this is YOUR weekend, but can you show him around? Only one of you would be enough..."

"Ummm... I hope you don't mind me asking, but couldn't you show him around?"

"I'm afraid not..." he replied "I'm been invited to a meeting... A mandatory one. There will be a conference held at Manehattan about the future of the section."

"Are we... In a tight spot of some sort?" Derek asked.

"Thankfully not. - the earth pony replied "But it's an important meeting, never the less, and I'm not allowed to be late, let alone absent... Please. Could one of you do this for me?"

The engines and the mares exchanged looks.

Finally, Rainbow Dash stepped forward.

"I'll do it."

"WE'LL do i'." Bert corrected her, as he and 'Arry rolled forward.

"Very well." the Doctor replied "You'll find the engine at the yards. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to catch."

"Good luck, youngsters..." the Breakfather hissed, and boomed away, his engine rattling loudly.

Diesel couldn't help, but hear a certain worry in his voice.

"Wait, who's replacing you?!" Gilda called after the leaving diesel.

"Derpy's doing the paperwork for me, and the workponies know the ropes!"

"Aaaaah!" a collective, exasperated sight left the group.

"Well, we better be off then as well..." Dash sighed.

As the twins rolled away with the polychromatic mare in 'Arry's cab, the others set of as well - Twilight, as expected, had planned ahead, trying to make events that would be fun for both the mares, and the engines. But, with her tendency to labor under a delusion about what "fun" is (and with the library lacking any sort of books about the joys and entertainment of living machinery), the others were sure to "throw a wrench" into her plans - for good!

The remainder of the day went by smoothly. As expected, Twilight's plans were not quite the best (especially since she attempted to make them a surprise, and didn't asked any of the diesels about their preferences). The others were quick to help out, and in the end, they had a great time.

It was dark by the time they left for home...

"Fheeew! What a day!" Derek sighed.

"You can tell me that again..." Bowler uttered.

"Pity the girls couldn't come..." the Class 17 added.

"They had to keep their own trains running." Stuck-Up reasoned "But yes, I suppose it's a shame."

"It's even a bigger shame that Applejack and Spamcan weren't there..." Rarity declared "I hope they're all right."

"Speaking of which, did anybody notice that the Iron Bros and Rainbow Dash didn't return?" Diesel asked, but (to his deepest surprise and distaste) he was ignored by the others.

"Well, Spamcan's repairs are going well..." Spike replied, leaning out from BoZo's cab "But I don't know about Applejack... I haven't seen her for days..."

"She's trying to gather the money to fix Spamcan, EVEN THOUGH both the Princesses, and Mr. Alexei had told her that the railway will cover the expenses..." Twilight replied "She's going to hurt herself even more."

"Even more?" Fluttershy gasped.

"Yes... She was limping to her back leg!" Twilight exclaimed "All that applebucking wouldn't do any good for it... Thankfully, Big Mac and Apple Bloom had agreed to look out for her."

"Good to hear." Stuck-Up announced, closing the conversation.

They trundled quietly down the line for some time.

"Say..." Bowler uttered, breaking the silence "I always wanted to asks this..."

"Yes?"

"Do you ponies... Euthanize?"

"...What?"

"You know... Put down another pony..."

". . . HWAT?!"

"Sorry, I just thought that..."

"Why on Celestia's green land would you think that?!"

"Well, the thing is, in our world, if a horse has broken it's leg, humans... Eh..."

"That's YOUR world! Why the Hay would you think that applies here?!"

"Ehh..."

"Would you lot kindly shut the Hell up?!" Diesel snapped at them "We've arrived."

"Bleh. And?" Stuck-Up growled.

"Something's amiss."

The others looked up and realized that Diesel was right. The yards were covered in darkness. Not a single light was lit.

This was a normal occurrence on the Other Railway, as Sir Wyatt often "forgot" to pay the electricity bills...

But in Equestria, this was odd. A rail yard HAD to be lit for the night.

"Huh... What's with that?" Pinkie asked.

"I dunno." Twilight replied "But I think we should enter slowly, in case there's something waiting for us that we wouldn't like..."

"Like what?"

"Like a hundred clones of you, now shut up!" Diesel growled.

The group entered the yard, slowly and cautiously, trying to make as little sound as possible, with lamps toned down.

Everything was quiet - the yard had never been so silent...

"Why does it feel so... Empty?" Pinkie whispered.

"All the trucks have been shunted to the sidelines on the far end of the yard..." Steamie replied, quiet as he could "But why?"

Crossing the yard, they arrived to carriage sheds... And there, between two line of brake vans, parked 'Arry and Bert.

"What the Hell are you guys doing here?" the black Class 08 asked "Don't tell me you've been hiding here all the time!"

"Shu' up!" 'Arry shout-whispered to him "Foind a hidin' plac' near by!"

"Wha-? Why?!"

"SHU' UP! Jus' foin' one! QUIC'LY!"

Puzzled and worried, the engines complied, hiding in the darkness of the shadows on nearby sidings. It quickly turned out that they did that just in time - the beam lights that were used to highlight the marshaling yard scrolled across the very area they stood on, enveloping everything in a blinding white light, before returning to it's presumed original position, and shutting off.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Diesel spoke up, now whispering like the Iron Twins:

"What in the High Hell happened here?! Did the yard became a prison camp? Equestria had been overthrown by North Korean invaders? Did Derpy went mad with power? What the heck happened?"

After a few seconds of silence, Bert's voice replied from a few berths from them:

"I thin' numbah 'A' is th' correct answer!"

Engines and mares rolled their eyes in near-perfect unison.

"So, what's up?" Steamie asked.

"..."

"Guys?"

"...He's back!"

Gasps and moans of horror and dismay echoed in the sheds.

"Wait... Who's back?" Pinkie asked.

"Who else, but the "Great Dicktator"!" BoZo grumbled.

"Didn't you mean "dictator"?" Fluttershy asked, noticing the extra emphasis.

"No! Look, we'll explain it tomorrow! For now, try to get some sleep!" Stuck-Up uttered.

The night grew long, and the ponies and the locomotives fell into a deep, dreamless sleep...

A the deafening sound of a banal, off-key trumpet broke the morning silence.

"AAAAH BLOODY HELL!" Diesel yelled, startled by the cacophony. The others woke up to, with similar reactions.

As the rouse died down, the engines told their drivers to hide in their cabs.

A few workponies came around, wearing old-fashioned, brown blinkered caps, their faces carrying blank expressions, mixed with worry and anguish.

They went around, inspecting the vans and coaches - presently, they stumbled upon the engines.

"Right. We'll have to report you." one of them uttered.

"Why?" CoBo asked "We LIVE here. You know us!"

"We do..." another workcolt sighed "But our leader doesn't."

"Leader?!" Derek coughed "Do you mean Derpy?"

"No..." another stallion muttered, lowering his voice's volume to a whisper "She's... Indisposed."

"What?!"

"Look, we can't tell you more right now, the leader's coming!" the workcolt uttered "Just wait for a short time, and we'll tell everything!"

"Shhh! Here he comes!" a mare whispered.

The engines soon heard a sound.

A sound which they despised, even more than the puffing of a steam engine.

The rattling of one, certain gasoline motor.

Soon enough, a small, square-shape came into view.

As the machine drew closer, every well-known part, every irritating bit, every infuriating attribute.

The L.N.E.R. Class Y11 stopped before the carriage works.

"ATEEEN-'HUN!" an loud, obnoxious voice shouted. It took the mares and the griffon a few seconds to realize it actually came from the small box of an engine.

"Well well well, what do we hav' hear?!" he said in a quick, snappy pace, as he looked over the engines, his slingshot-mouth spreading into a nasty smirk.

"A few diversants Ey spy!" he barked, and chortled on his own (lack of) wit.

"Montgomery..." Derek exhaled in a manner which suggested held-back anger.

Diesel was less bland.

"Dick." he spat "What the Hell are you doing here? Wait, don't tell me that YOU'RE the visiting engine!"

"Yess, indeed Ey am!" the Army green engine declared "And Ey t'ok control of thees infrastructural facility, as the local member dispatched for the job was proven to be too incompetent for such position!"

"Incompetent?!" Derek snapped.

"Relax, Derek!" Diesel called out, hardly believing that he actually had to tell that to Derek, of all engines. He then turned his glare back to the Simplex engine.

"And just WHO, pray tell, in the Seven Hells gave you THAT sort of authority?!"

"None other than Head Office itself!" Dick chuckled wickedly.

The engines gave him incredulous looks.

"See it for yourself!" he added, and rolled forward, revealing a office paper stuck to his side. The engines couldn't really read what it said, but it looked real.

"Seems like your Princesses are going senile with age..." Diesel's uttered in the cab, startling Twilight "Or perhaps Alexei is on something we better not know of, it it has THIS SORT of effects!"

"You can't take over like that!" Steamie shouted.

"Yes, YES EY CAN!" the engine laughed (or more like guffawed) "EY have been given the authoratee to replace all unproductive workforce, which, in this case, was your station master. Thus, yer argument is invalid, little engin'!"

""Little"?" Bowler scoffed "He's practically twice your length! And probably TEN TIMES stronger." he added.

Dick's face turned red, and a vein became visible on his forehead.

"YEU WILL OBEY OHDA'S!EY'M THE ONE IN CHARGE, AND EY MAKE THE OHDA'S!"

"And just HOW do you think you're going to force us?" Stuck-Up grunted "You're the size of a turntable's control cab. You have no power over us!"

"AHA! That's what yeu think, laddie!" Dick grinned "If YEU won't obey mey ohde's, I'll have the workment take yeu apart and rearrange you in a way yeu'll be more co-operative!"

Inside the cabs, the mares and the griffon where horrified.

The engines didn't even flinch.

"They won't do that." Diesel uttered "They're well aware that we're sentient constructs that have feelings and emotions. We're more than machines, and they know it! They wouldn't destroy us."

"Oh, wouldn't they?" Dick grinned under his mustache "Boys?"

The workponies present raised their tools.

"Sorry, Diesel." one uttered sadly "Orders are orders."

The shunter's eyes narrowed, as he glared daggers at the Y11.

"Bastard..." he whispered.

"With that settled, Ey shall give yeu yeur assignments!" Dick declared "Now then..."

There was a long pause.

"All of yeu!" he finally spoke "The usual!"

Growling and grumbling, the engines set off, their drivers secretly controlling them from the cab.

"EXCEPT fer the shunters!" Montgomery declared. Diesel, 'Arry, Bert and Steamie stopped. BoZo, who was also on shunting duty for the week, stopped as well, with Spike waking from his sleep inside his cab.

"Yeu're guin' to be workin' under MY watch!" he declared.

The engines groaned...

A few hours later, they were working in the yards, shunting trucks into their proper place - or, at least, what their new leader "ohder'd".

"Dis is bul'shi'!" Bert grunted, banging some vans together.

"Th' li'l bugga's gonna pay fo' dis..." 'Arry growled, as charged forward, sending a jolt down the train behind him.

"So, who is this guy?" Twilight asked the Class 08's.

"He's called Montgomery." Diesel explained nonchalantly "But we just call him Dick, because, well, he is one."

"No kidding." the unicorn uttered.

"He's a megalomaniac. I think the original engines he was based on worked for the army, but I can't tell for sure. Point is, he's as militant as haughty, and ABSOLUTELY pathetic! He's usually harmless, unless someone has the pill bottle rolled so far away to give him authority."

"Has the what?"

"UGH, never mind! In short, he goes mad with power. PERIOD! We had him once in our yard, but his nonsense eventually had us start a revolution, and purge him from our railway! Spamcan kept ramming into him all the way to the railway limits!"

"Well, that explains everythin'!"

The shunters looked up, surprised.

Applejack was standing beside the nearest switch.

"He dispatched all th' fitters workin' on fixin' Spamcan! Even Spike!"

"Git!" 'Arry shouted.

"Exactly." the applefarmer uttered, walking towards them with a noticeable limp "Ah was glad when Ah was called back t' work - I had nothing to do on the farm - Big Mac an' Apple Bloom wouldn't let me do anything until mah leg heals! But when I came in, I was greeted by that can of grease, who told me Ah'm "no longer desired"! He gave me the sack!"

"Well, at least you got a clear picture of him..." the jet black shunter uttered "By the way, it really is the best if you stay in bed with that leg."

"AH'M FINE!" the mare snapped "An' b'sides! We got more impor'ant things at our hooves!"

"Tch... You're going to end up in a wheelchair, not me!" the engine huffed.

"We gotta do something!" Pinkie cried "We can't let that megalo-meanie run the yard!"

"Megalomaniac!" Diesel growled "Get your damn words right!"

"Look, we need a plan!" Rainbow Dash spoke up "He doesn't even cares about the main schedules! The yard is running amok under his control!"

"Aha... So that's what he's up to..." Diesel grunted.

"What?" the others asked.

"He comes in, takes control and relishes in his Napoleon Syndrome, ruins the yard, for which WE'LL be blamed for! He wants the yard to be shut down, so that we'll be scattered on the railway afterwards!"

"BASTARD!" Twilight shouted, surprising not only the others, but even herself with her infuriated outburst.

"We can't let this happen!" BoZo declared "We'll have to pay him out!"

All around them, the trucks began to chant:

"Pay Monty out!

Pay Monty out!"

"SHU' I'!" the Iron Bros shouted.

"Any idea on how to do that?" Applejack asked.

"I have one." Twilight replied, busy writing a note.

"What do you have there?" Steamie asked.

"Don't be dumber than usual, Steamie!" BoZo snarled "It's obviously a letter to Celestia!"

"It is." Twilight replied "I'm telling her what's going on, and asking for help!"

"So, a snitch, ey?" 'Arry smirked.

"No, 'Arry." the unicorn frowned "I'm being sensible, AND smart, by reporting an engine's misdoings to my highers, rather than prematurely taking actions into my own hooves, when I can't be sure what I'm dealing with!"

"Ya'r' dealin' whi' a defo'med dust bin. Plain an' simple!" Bert replied.

"That may be..." the mare replied "But that official paper looked a bit fishy for me. That's why I'm sending this letter!"

"Don't you need Spike for that?" Steamie asked.

"...Very observant, Steamie..." Twilight exhaled, before turning to the tank engine's driver "Pinkie, I want you to deliver this to Spike, A.S.A.P.!" she explained, levitating a folded up scroll to the party pony.

Pinkie saluted, and jumped into Steamie's cab.

"We're on it, ma'am!" the tank engine declared, and hurried away.

"Applejack!" Twilight said, turning to the cowpony "Get the workcolts to continue working on Spamcan! If they ask, say that "Montgomery" had ordered!"

"Gotcha!" she replied, and quickly trotted away, hissing quietly as she put pressure on her left rear leg.

Twilight and Rainbow looked after her, quickly exchanging worried looks - A.J.'s stubborn nature may very well be the end of her farming career.

"OI!" a familiar, obnoxious voice rang in the air "Where did that leetle tin can go?"

"Off to fetch some water!" Diesel growled back.

"Ey did not alloowed any lunch breaks!"

"For fuck's sake, he's a STEAM engine! He NEEDS water to run!"

"Then Ey shall replace him, and show yeu just HOW to shunt!"

"Oh, OK!" 'Arry called out, and stopped where he was. Bert did the same.

"This'll be interesting..." BoZo smirked, stopping as well.

With a loud clatter, Dick showed up in all his green glory, blasting his horn all the way.

He stopped in front of the engines, now in row, smirking at him.

"Alright, Dick..." Diesel chuckled "Show us some REAL shunting!"

The small shunter looked around, slowly getting discouraged by the wall of trucks surrounding him.

"OK, well neow..." he muttered "Ey'll... Start with an empty row..."

The shunters exchanged knowing looks.

"Ove' dere!" Bert grinned, motioning him to line of tankers with his eyes.

"Reight!" the Y11 declared, and rushed over to them. Stopping right in front of them, he shouted back to the others:

"Alright, you twits, neow yeu'll see some REAL shunting!"

With that (and with the sound effects of a wind-up toy), he set out to push the truck in front of him.

They wouldn't budge...

So he strained, his engine revving louder and louder, as he tried and tried to move the trucks.

The noise of the small gasoline engine echoed around the yard, snubbing the sounds of the workponies sneaking back into the work shed to fix a certain Class 46, covering the sounds of mares giggling wickedly, and shutting off the sound of engines laughing at his pathetic attempts.

In the end, he broke down, and kept yelling until a few workponies pushed into the nearest shed and began working on him.
Sadly, the diesels didn't got away with it.

BoZo was put on heavy duty slow goods, while Diesel, 'Arry and Bert had to finish the work while the Y11 kept shouting at them with his full 130 decibels.

At the end of the day, the engines retired to the empty section of the carriage works - Montgomery had their shed as his own residence.

Stuck-Up, Bowler and CoBo arrived from their daily trips as well, and Applejack had been there all day, working on Spamcan with the fitters, helping out the best she could. After finding Spike and having him send the letter, Steamie and Pinkie hid in the sheds for the rest of the day.

Finally, the baby dragon joined them, as they began to play the oldest game in the world - the Waiting Game.

As the sun set, the ponies and engines, along with a few, younger workcolts, discussed the situation.

"So, he's been acting like that since you arrived?" Rarity asked gloomily.

"Yeah, he keeps rollin' around, poking that "official paper" under everypony's nose!" Rainbow Dash grunted.

"Well, no' li'erally..." Bert added "As he has no arms 'n' shtuff..."

"Shu' i', Bert!" his brother snapped.

"We've checked around." Bowler explained "Trottingham Junction has our back in case things get out of hand, Pip and Emma are at Manehattan Central, along with the Brakefather, waiting for our call, Cromwell is at Canterlot - the lucky bastard ended up as the star of an industrial-technological convention -, and Dr. Whooves has been alerted. His highers have agreed to speed up the meeting so that he could depart earlier, so he'll be here as soon as it's possible."

"Good." Twilight sighed "Any sign of Derpy?"

"No, that's what bothers us all!" the green diesel replied "She had vanished without a trace. Not even the workponies could tell. Some of us fear the worse." he added, with a worried tone.

Twilight's eyes widened.

"Sweet Celestia..." she uttered "You don't think..."

"We can't tell for sure..." he replied "He's not quite alright in the head..."

"What we DO know is that he's still his usual self." Derek grumbled. He was in a particularly bad mood.

"Yeah... What's up with that?" Rainbow asked. The others were curious too.

"Well..." Derek muttered "He's... No, actually, he's based on the London and North Eastern Railway's Simplex-model Y11 class engines. These were small, petrol powered experimental shunters, and, like most, they worked for the War Department."

"The only vaguely logic theory we have is that "militant past" went into his radiator..." Stuck-Up added.

"He's a megalomaniac, and now, he has the junta he wanted. Now, we were never the ones to respect ANY authority - well, other than that of the Dining Club, in my case -, let alone fictional ones. As you can guess, he was quick to antagonize us, and, likewise, we were quick to hate his guts."

"In the end, Diesel finally remembered that he wasn't painted black just to identify him as an '50's shunter, and we retired El Presidenterror from our railway." put in Bowler.

"What do you mean?" Fluttershy asked. The engines exchanged looks. Diesel's stared blankly in front of himself for a second...

"Well... I suppose we could... Tell you..." the green diesel muttered awkwardly.

"Yeah... Toime th' spill da beans..." 'Arry uttered, trying to look everywhere but at the ponies, especially his part-time driver and fitter.

"About what?" Twilight asked.

"Well... It's kind of an awkward topic..." Derek admitted "Oh, I wish Spamcan would be here! He'd know how to start this off!"

"Start what off?" Applejack pondered out loud.

Silence fell...

The tension, slick and quiet, began to rise in the quiet air of the shed. Workponies exchanged pondering looks, the engines were busy staring at their own buffers, and the mares were puzzled above all. All tried to guess about the elephant in the room.

Eventually, the black Class 08 could take no more:

"Oh, for FUCK'S SAKE! I WAS AN ANARCHIST!"

The mare's chain of thoughts took a double back, as they looked up.

"You WHAT?!" Twilight exclaimed.

"I was an anarchist!" Diesel repeated "A rioter! A hooligan! A PUNK! One of the Black Mass! Member of the Black Bloc! THE Black Bloc itself at times! I bared rubber bullets, water cannons, tear gas, plexy shields, batons, assaults from skullheads, THE LOT! It wasn't the brightest time of my life, DEFINITELY NOT the finest moment of my carrier, but GOD DAMN IT ALL TO HELL, I'M FUCKING PROUD OF IT!!!"

He shouting must have alerted some "guards", as the beam lights outside began to scroll. Silence fell once more, as everyone held his or her breath. Finally, the lamps turned off...

"...And, just when did you wanted to tell me... US, about this?" the lavender unicorn questioned. She didn't seemed happy.

"Why does it concerns you, Sparkle?" the shunter snapped "You're not my mother, and I have no incumbency towards you!"

"Diesel, you WERE an anarchist!" Twilight snapped back "You carry a potential threat to the Equestrian Monarchy!"

""Threat"? I'm a freaking box that runs on fuel and rolls on rails which decide my path instead of me! WHAT SORT OF THREAT I COULD BE!?"

"You can speak!" the mare yelled.

Everyone was silent.

"Yes." the engine replied dryly "SO?!"

"You're quite possibly the only intelligent being from in Equestria that poses as a threat to the Princesses' rule! From within our own society!"

Diesel was both surprised and bemused.

"What, you think I'd rally up the ponies to topple the system?"

"Yes! You said it yourself!"

"NO!" the engine roared "PAY ATTENTION TO THE DAMN DETAILS! I said that if I could get the engines into a wildcat strike to freeze down the railway if I would, and I CAN! I do have amazing powers of persuasion and observation, but that's beside the point! No, as a matter of fact, maybe THIS is exactly what we would need to get Dick out of the yard! There's no point handing me over to the authorities - THEY CAN'T ARREST A BLOODY DIESEL LOCOMOTIVE! And it's not like I'm real threat - I joined the anarchists in back in the '80's, during the Thatcher-era. I was sick and tired about the fact that a bunch of neck-tied morons ruining my country and the railway I worked on, led by a conservative, repulsive NAG! Your Princesses are doing a FINE job! I've nothing to complain about - other than idiotic co-workers and dumb little mares who want to play herionies in the WRONG BLOODY TIME! So calm. The Hell. DOWN!"

He only noticed the stunned silence when he himself calmed down. Twilight kept staring at him with. A look of respect? A glance of horror? He couldn't decide. Neither could she.

Spike burst into the deafening silence like a little, scaly, purple ball christened as "in medias res". He was waving a parchment and a red book.

"Twilight! TWILIGHT!"

The mare blinked, and turned towards her assistant.

"Yes, Spike? Did the Princess replied?" she asked, nervously.

"Yes!" the dragon replied, only to have the parchment violently ripped out of his clutches.

Twilight quickly read it out loud for the mass:

"My dear, faithful student!

I'm stunned to hear that such situation has occurred. I can only confirm that neither I, nor Luna, nor Alexei had given out any sort of "Alpha-order" to any employee, equine or construct. The engine in question HAS to be a fraud.

However, I would like you to try and handle this problem. You got the aid of your friends, and the engines, if I read your letter correctly. This "Dicktator" shouldn't be much of a problem. You have the Magic of Friendship, and Diesel has his wit and experience. If you still can't handle the task, do not worry! It's not a test, and I'll be arriving at noon tomorrow with the rest of the leader board!

Beside this reply, I'll also send a book which I recently had the pleasure and fortune to read. Inspiring, though, not a life-changer - nothing I haven't heard and didn't knew before.
Still, it's a must-read, especially in your current situation.

Sincerely, and with hopes, and love,

your mentor,

Princess Celestia."

The workponies exchanged puzzled books.

How can a book help in overthrowing a tyrant?

Spike picked up the book from the ground, dusted it off, and carried it near the shunter and the mare.

As the Mane 6 and Gilda saw the title, their eyes widened - partly with wonder, and mostly with confusion.

Diesel stared down at the book, and smirked.

"Why, it's the Collective Works of good ol' Karl Marx!"

Next morning, came dawn.

A red dawn.

The dark shadows left the yard sluggishly, as light regained it's place. In the work shed, the engines, and their drivers, were wide awake.

They had a plan.

CoBo waited. He and Gilda were sent forward to keep an eye out for the guards and to address arriving trains - no one should stop at Ponyville today.

The day was starting slow. But they knew, it will speed up soon.

For soon, it will be the time to act.

One by one, the carriage work's doors opened.

Dark shadows began to stir inside...

They moved towards the exit, with a crowd around and behind them, motioning them forward, more and more...

Finally, the shapes surfaced the light... Pegasi flew out, in all directions up in the sky...

They disarmed the guards without harm, and either told them to joint them, or tied them up somewhere safe...

One by one, they race out of their sidings, onto their planned locations.

Diesel and Twilight shared a smirk. The plan was coming together...

"Reporting to Brigadier Sparkle!" a workcolt rushed to them. Twilight tipped her blinkered cap.

"Rest. What do you have to tell me?" she asked, calmly.

"We've found Derpy, ma'am!"

The mares eyes widened.

"And?"

"She was hid in an out-of-order water tower at the south edge of the yard, tied up and gagged."

The unicorn was silent for a moment.

"Any injuries?"

"She had a few bruises, possibly a result of her subduing, and the ropes left burns... She hadn't eaten or drink anything since she was tied up..."

The workcolt felt silent for a moment.

The mare and the diesel stared at him sharply.

"She... Wasn't able to use the little fillies room, either..."

Diesel's glare darkened.

"Clean her up, provide her some food and drink, and take her to the hospital if needed." the brigadier spoke slowly and quietly "Tell her to stay calm, and don't come to the yard."

The stallion saluted, and left.

No sooner than he was out of sight, Twilight's fur flared with magical fire, her mane and tail ablaze. She growled deeply with unrestrained bestiality, mouth twisted into a snarl, her eyes glowing with a hateful light.

She was seeing red.

"Calm the Hell down." the shunter ordered "You'll burn the cap."

With a sigh, Twilight let out steam. Her fire gone out, and she sat back down on the ground.

A few moments passed in silence.

"Well... This is it." she finally announced.

"Indeed." Diesel muttered "Today, the Great Dicktator shall fall, or we shall die in Hell."

"What?"

"...Never mind..."

Montgomery was NOT happy. He was hard to satisfy to begin with, but THIS was totally beyond his broadest tolerance.

There was not a single soul in the yard, the engines were gone, and there was nobody there to work.

"Hah! Unauthorized break, ey?" he smirked "Ey'll soon find yeu!"

So he went around, checking every siding, every shed, every depot for the others.

Finally, he had to stop in the center of the yard.

He was running out of fuel, and he still couldn't find the others.

Out of breath, he gazed around himself once more.

"Where... *huff* The Hell... *huff* Are they?!" he muttered.

Suddenly, the station's and the yard's speaklers cracked to life.

Music, militant, yet, so full of emotion, filled the yard.

And one by one, they rushed out from the shadows, from behind the line of trucks and coaches, roaring loudly and blasting their horns like the wails of an agonized organ.

Workcolts poured out of the buildings, trucks and coaches, waving their tools as weapons, the guards carrying their red flags high up in the air.

The wave of ponies soon crashed against him, hooves denting his sides, bucking his face and smashing his windows in...

An engine - he couldn't make him out through the crowd and his swollen eye - approached him. As the crowd cleared, he could make out his shape through the haze that now covered his eyes.

The engine began to push him backwards. Faster and faster. He tried to put his brakes on, but he couldn't.

He tried to yell, but now word left his mouth.

Finally, he felt his wheels leave the rails. He saw the sky so clear.

Everything went dark...

"...Should of known it would be you!" an unfamiliar voice said...

Dick slowly came to his senses...

He saw the world in weird way: the sky was on the left, and in front of him was a curving wall, while up close to his right was wall of gravel...

He couldn't make sense of it, but an aching pain in his rear reminded him what happened.

The mass.

The riot.

The engine, shunting him...

...Into the turntable well!

He glanced around, angrily, and soon saw it:

Diesel's smirking face, accompanied by the Iron Twins, and two ponies who looked most content - one winged, one horned.

He heard gravel crunching, and looked "forward" - a thin, tall figure wearing railway official's uniform, sided by two, large ponies who had both wings and horns, and wore similar attires - Head Office.

"Oh shit..." the Simplex thought, and gulped.

"...Using fake official authorization to gain illegal control over an entire station, forcing equines and engines alike to subdue to your will, undermining governmental authority for unauthorized actions and maintaining a paramilitary group and using terror in order to enforce your "ohders", not to mention holding an employee hostage in an unequane environment..." Alexei enumerated, then took a deep breath "Montgomery..."

The engine stared at him nervously.

"...You're fucked."

After he was fished out from the well, the Y11 was put on a siding, out of sight. Then, the Princesses and the controller turned to the workponies and engines. Many were still wearing their revolutionary outfits, and were slightly on edge - they've stood up against a tyrant, but in the same time, they reveled in a mass protest inspired by views that went straight against the Monarchy.

But the Princesses looked at them with pride.

"My little ponies..." Celestia began.

"Our dear engines..." Luna added, nodding towards the locomotives.

"We would like to congratulate you all for actions - defeating a tyrant is no small task, and, thanks to your passion, morale and cooperation, you've succeeded!"

"It is no small feat..." Luna added "That you fought for your freedom. It was, obviously, the right thing to do, and for that, you dared to go many steps beyond your own limits - something which is truly commendable!"

The ponies seemed to be easing up.

"Who led the revolution?"

Alexei's question was greeted with silence. Slowly, the crowd separated in the front, allowing Twilight to trot forward, with Diesel rolling slowly behind her.

As she reached the Princesses, her head hung low.

"Are you angry at me, Princess?" she asked, quietly. Her mentor was puzzled.

"Why would I be, my dear student?" she asked.

Diesel replied instead of her.

"Well, we did organized a local communist revolution, which could threaten the social stability of Equestria and..."

"...It does not." Luna cut him off "Honestly, I don't know why you always see us as rigid overlookers... Your actions were just, and you did the right thing, and that's what matters."

"Communism isn't a condemnable thing." Celestia continued "It's just... Slightly utopistic."

"In our world, communism is an obsolete idea..." Diesel explained "It was created by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, and it's very basics - known today as Marxism - described a society without the existence social classes, class struggle, run by the workers themselves, often through councils or communities, hence the name. It's completion would be an anarchistic, stateless society based on communities. But our modern society simply exceeded such ideas - we live in a globalized world with international companies and trades run by many governments. Marx's ideas are now out of date."

"No, they're not..." Alexei replied "Sure, his ideal society is bit off these days, but that's only for the advanced world. Communities could always exist. Besides, he had many other clever thoughts, especially the working class' self-awakening and self-realization. Anyways, this is Equestria, not Earth."

"Our world isn't as advanced as your own." Luna explained "And we found Marx's ideas - though, not ALL of them - a good aim for the future."

The engine's eyes widened.

"You mean...?"

The princesses nodded, and turned towards the crowd.

"As rulers of the Equestrian Monarchy, we can only encourage our subject to recreate themselves. Nothing lasts forever, and eventually, the monarchy, and with it, WE will have to go. Therefore, planning ahead is necessary, and we only want what's soberly the best for our subjects. An ideal society where everypony lives in wealth, weal, equality, peace and prosperity, is what we should all aim for - if necessary, without the existence of central power."

Luna took over.

"But we can't have it right here and right now - such things take time, and rushing would only botch it up. No, we must all continue working, and living our lives, building the path towards our dreams. As your leaders, we represent you, and try to solve your problems the best we can. Some things cannot be solved through sheer force, or magic - they require wits and wisdom, and that's why we're here: to guide you on your path towards your dreams - keep in mind, we aren't perfect, either, but we give as much as we could."

"And, to be honest..." Celestia added "We would be glad to trade jobs with ANY of you."

Ponies and engines collectively gasped.

"With all honesty!" the Princess of the Day went on "Being the leader, ESPECIALLY royalty, is no easy task. It's stressful, it isolates us from our friends and the very ponies we had sworn to look after, and it's an incredible responsibility - many had cracked under such weight before, and many will. Sure, fame and luxury are good, but in the end, they're nothing more, than dark shadows: fame can befoul us, luxury can drive one mad... I'd much prefer to live among other ponies and do whatever hard work I can, rather than to sit all day, feeling stressed and useless..."

"And add the fear of failure to that..." her sister went on "We'd love to trade with any of you, but, unfortunately, we can't..."

"Why not?" Pinkie asked.

"We are bound to our word." the younger princess explained "We had sworn to guard and protect Equestria through the day and the night. We maintain peace and order through ruleship, as we had experienced that mortal ponies simply aren't up for the task..."

"Even the most purest souls were corrupted by power, the most strongest wills broken by the heavy weight of responsibility, and the greatest mind dwarfed and driven insane by the scale of it..."

"So, it's like trying to use a 40 watt light bulb in a 10000 watt socket..." Steamie stated.

"Pretty much."

"This is revolution that we all take part in - a slow, but steady progress that will bring us all freedom, peace, equality and justice!" Alexei declared "And for that, we ask your, and all of Equestria's help. We seek the help of you - the everyday heroes! FOR VICTORY!"

The sound of ovation echoed around the yard, as the workers cheered - for themselves, for the Princesses, for the railway, and for Equestria.

But in the middle of joy, Derek's eyes widened.

"Oh my God! We forgot about BoZo!"

The steam-diesel hybrid huffed and wheezed at the bottom of the hill. Behind him, the trucks were trying to cheer him up, but to no avail. Finally, BoZo caught his breath.

"OK... One more time.." he said, for the hundredth time...

Interlude-I

The eerie tune was the first thing he sensed...

A sad, solemn melody, played by instruments which's existence he did not know of before...

Perhaps they were modern ones, he HAD been there for quite a long time, and didn't got the chance to check around before being sealed away again...

He cringed at the thought, his face - if he still had one - twisting into a snarl accompanied by a frown.

Looking around, he saw nothing but darkness. Blackness. The lack of any color, light, sound, and interest. Lifeless.

Even if he tried, he would be unable to do anything here - he couldn't do anything with the perfect lack of anything. So he didn't.

He didn't even considered summoning, well aware that he wouldn't be able to, no matter how hard he tried.

So all he did was wait...

If he was to be locked away into eternity, then so be it.

He had "lived" a "life" that was entertaining. Fun. Even humorous at times. Though, in retrospect, it was all boring and menial in the greater scheme of things... After so many millennia of complete freedom (or lack, thereof), his "life" ends in this skin-tight tomb, so to speak. Boring.

Thinking back, he couldn't find any memories he could cherish - well, he could, but those worthy to think of were either annoying or hurtful, reminding him of the... Less joyous times in his life... Mere moments of his existence that had gone by...

He was ageless, and through natural course, he could never die, thus, was far more older than any beings he knew of - and he knew quite a lot.

Looking around in the completely indistinguishable scenery, he secretly hoped to see a sight, even if an eyesore, ANYTHING that would break this mind numbing monotony of nothingness...

The lulled surroundings were boring beyond any sense, and they even made succumbing to madness impossible - not that he could be any more insane.

"With all due respect..." he thought to himself "I'm bloody well mad!"

Silence.

He couldn't distinguish his spoken words from his thoughts, something which he figured out early on. For the first few thousand years, it was fun, but it quickly grew boring.

And it wasn't like he wished for any scenery, too.

As an immortal and near-omniscient being, he had seen it all, past, presents, future.

Surely, he could deal with nonexistence after all.

It was now that he noticed that the song he had heard as his conscious mind woke from it's slumber had gotten louder. It was almost silent when he first heard it...

Now, he could identify the notes.

It was, indeed, a sad and haunting tune as he expected. Nothing serious, moving or scary. It was a bit unsettling, bit depressing, but just very slightest... What he couldn't put his clawed finger on were the instruments. The sound was made by no instrument he knew of. Obviously... He thought of that before...

Then what was it?

It wasn't acoustic, that's for sure...

Nor was it magically generated, that genre died out many eons ago... Not even HE could do it (well, properly, at least), but of course, he heard of it.

No, now that he thought of it, it certainly originated by the resonance of some sort of power, but it wasn't magic.

"Electricity..." he thought.

It was electric music, but in that case, a very cheap one, perhaps MADE to be like it, to sound atmospheric, as it was certainly unentertaining.

Listening to the slowly overwhelming melancholy of a melody, he waited for another unmarked dull day to end...

Perhaps, he'll fall into unconsciousness again, and he'll be given peace by his own mental bounds... If he had any.

The doldrums of his inner psyche, which he presumed he was in, being unable to tell his conscious mind from the unconscious, were very tedious, thanks to the lack of impulse and emotions...

The music was getting louder...

It was the first time he looked down. He saw his body... But nothing to hold it.

He was existing in the middle of Nothing, suspended in vacuum, and the sound of a broken electric music box was going to deafen him. Oh, the grotesque humor of it...

The macabre tone of the song kicked in as it became very clear and he began to hear the higher notes as well. His head hurt because of it, yet, he couldn't really locate the pain, his body beneath him only being an image, rather than the actual thing.

Was he dead?

Though born to be immortal, he could still be killed, defeated by disease or poison (though, not likely). Hunger and thirst, too, would eventually drain life from him, but it would take more than a humble mortal's lifetime to even get weakened by the slightest because of malnutrition.

Was he in Hell?

Nah, that would've been more crowded... He was there once, and this was nothing like it.

Heaven?

Pah. He could hardly stifle his laugh... Well, if he had had one...

Purgatory?

Perhaps... This could be anything... He sort of half expected it to be a bit more fiery, but what the heck...

The music was getting more and more ear-hurting, and it was a tad lower and slower...

"This is ridiculous..." - he thought. Did he? Did he really?

He couldn't tell by now...

He was used to chaos, but that was the chaos HE created... This was confusing and disorienting... Not to mention painful...

"To Tartaros with this cacophony!" he grunted. Not a single sound was audible beside the shrieking melody of death...

Wait? Melody of Death?

So THAT'S it!

The tune he had been hearing was sort of a funeral song. Was he dying?

That certainly sounds more interesting than suspended animation.

A shadow was coasted over him...

"Eh?"

Looking up, he could make out something large... And black.

He can barely distinguish it from the background, but the white light around the edges of the shape highlighted it enough to make out the enormous form.

He shuddered on the inside.

Above him, as high as a star, yet as large as mountain, was the Black Sun. A symbol, an insignia of all that's wrong that could be brought out from the purest mortal's heart, the emblem of his failed attempt to seize power through the one.
..
The one he once held so close to his heart...

In one turns of insanity, the psychopathy inducted by his own power and immortality, he tried to go against his very nature: seizing power through Order rather than Chaos.

The result...

Was pure terror...

He brought such evil on the land, never before seen by the masses, that it made even the darkest ones cringe.

The vessel he used, he dared to use, became a figure so distorted, so dark and dreadful, so unlike how she normally was, that her own family didn't recognize her.

He hated himself because of this...

Not only did he had caused immense pain, torture, horror, suffering, misery and agony to the innocent whom he merely wanted to gently toy with - relatively, that is - but he had darkened the heart of the most purest being of them all - another immortal like him, and the only one who ever loved him for who he is and what he was.

And the only whom he cared for.

But after that fateful day, it all changed.

Still staring at the Black Sun, though with his eyes glossy - not that he was aware of any of it - he was startled when the Sun decided to change shape... From it's perfectly round form, eight spikes erected, pointing into eight different directions, as the Sun's interior shifted, becoming more and more... Simple...

"No..." he thought "Not this..."

In his vain attempt to retrieve the soul of his loved one, he tore the dark magic off her body, pouring it all over his own self, essentially becoming the very monster they all probably remember him to be. But he was not the spirit of Chaos then. He was the beast of Swath.

He was defeated, freed from his own dark magic, then promptly encased with stone. But in his defeat he was still joyous, freed from the darkness that consumed his mind.

He turned his head away from the Chaos symbol, only to see something in the distance... Something white...

Could it be?

"...Tia?"

The sprite drew closer...

His lips curled into a smile - or so he thought - as the anomaly oh so similar to her drew nearer and nearer... But as it got close enough to be distinguishable from the haze it seemed.

Yes! It was definitely her!

But...

No...

This couldn't be her...

No.

This cannot be her...

No!

This isn't... It can't..!

It CANNOT BE...!

NO!

SHE ISN'T--!

Her wings were distorted - her whole being was.

One seemed to be a botched sculpture of metal and wires, with dagger-like blades spreading out, partially coated in a blue substance with blood's density, barb and razor wire tying each and every individual piece together...

The other - a cruel joke.

Her feathers few and far between, their tips cut off and bleeding red blades of pain and torture.

Her tail was white flame that seemed to be burning towards the ground...

One of her rear legs were missing - it just abruptly ended at her flank, with a few floating chunks of her matter displayed in white squares - "pixels" were they called? He couldn't tell for sure...

Her other leg had no outline or depth - it seemed to be just a dirty white matter in the shape of her hind leg, complete with her horseshoes. But even as such, it seemed to... Snippy, to robust and sharply edged...

Her mane was distorted as well - despite the lack of any wind, it was constantly blown from a certain direction, on an axis he cannot comprehend - the waving flare of her crest had an unnaturally slow movement, constantly jolting and reshaping itself, as if it had stopped in time for a moment, only to continue in the form the momentum would have arranged it, had it's motion remained continuous - the flow sometimes even changed direction altogether, as if played in reverse...

It's colors were off: dulled and clashing, or having some sort of texture over it - one stripe in particular was completely see-through with a mere outline.

Her necklace was dodgy - like her hind leg - a black-and-white mess of squares making out the rough shape of it. The only distinguishable feature was the gem - blood red and dull.

Her forelegs were mismatched - both had horseshoes, but while one's was gray, the other's had a nasty red texture on it.

Her movement was robust and lagged from time to time, as she drew nearer - her horn unfinished - ending in a few, sparkling squares that flickered in the place of it's peak...

Her tiara was black with a white gem, nothing more, nothing less - no details or depth - it might as well been a paper cut-out.

But what took him was her eye - only one that was left uncovered by her flowing mane, her usual style.

It was like gazing into a blood well. Deep crimson color shone in the darkness, pupil hidden by the "light" it reflected.

She glared at him, as she approached, washing the smile of his face, crushing whatever comfort he had...

"w̵͠H͏̶y͢ ̷̨d͡I̡͢D ̴Y͡o̴̕͟U ̡d̷̛O͏̨ t̸H͢I͜s͜.̨͜͠.̢.̶?́́" the vision croaked.

It's voice... Just like hers...

With a hint of HIS "divine addition"...

"No..."

"W̕Hy̧͝ ̀͟͠D҉̶i͜D̢̕ ͜y̶O͟͏U̶̶ Ḑ͘o͠҉ ҉iT͡,̕ ͢Ḑi̷̡S҉̛C̶̴҉o̷̡r̷D̴?̴̨" the spectre whirred "̧́͞W̨͜͏H͟͠Y̕ ́DID͜͜ ̕Y̷̛O̢U̸ ̶̡L͏̶͞E͏T̨ HI̵͘M ̧͠O̷̷Ư͘͝T҉?́͝!"

He roared and tried to cover his ear, as the being's shriek caught him by surprise - nearly deafening him.

"Y̵̡҉O҉u͜͢ D̵̡́e̡͟͠S͢TR̛oy̷̢e͡͞Ḑ͢ ̛H̶̛͢arm̷̀o̶̡ny҉̸..͠͝. ͞yÒ̢͠u̸̢ ̶̢b̡R̴͘͞Ǫ̸̀ú̵̸g̴͠Ht̕҉ ̴uS̸ ̶͢W̨͡A͟͝R̸̛͘ a̷̧̛N̴҉̕d̨͢ ̵S̴u̧͝F͢Fe҉͞Ri͜͞ņ̷G̷͢.̸.̡͘.͡ ̛҉WHY̴͟?̧͝!"

"I..."

"THE SPIRIT OF CHAOS MEANT TO CAUSE CHAOS!!! NOT DEATH AND HAVOC!" she yelled, her voice clearing out.

He covered his eyes, trying to hide his tears, and trying to hide from her gaze.

He dared to peak.

"Ńo̶͝w̨̢͜͡,̛ ̸̧̡͞y̨̕͏̀͝ǫ̨̛͢ư̕̕͡ ̶̨͘s̸̢͢͟͞h̷̛͘̕͠a̡͢҉̛l҉̡l͘͟ ͘͟͏p̨̕͞͏̨á͘y̨͏̀́ ̨́t̷̡̢̕h̵̸̛̕͠é̶̛ ҉҉̴̕͡p̧r̶̴̶͜͢į̶̛͞c͏͏͟e̷̷͏ ̀́f̀͢ơ̢͞r͞ ̡̕͡͞͡b̶̢̡́e҉̴̢͟͞t̨̨̀͞r̴̨ą͢͞͠͏y̛̕͢͟i̷̵̢̧͢ń̨g̴̵̶͡͞ ́͠y҉̢͘͝o̴̵̡͞u̡͟͡r͏̢̕͠ ̴̛̀͝͞f̶̛͏̷̨ŕ̨̧͢ì̷̛̕͝ę̴͞͞͝n̸̶d҉̶͘͢͡s̸̛͟͞.̶̢̢̛́.̴͘͢҉́.̕͘͟͠" the being that was Celestia whispered, before it whipped her mane away from in front of her other eye... Revealing it to be completely black...

He felt... Hypnotized, as he stared into the vast darkness of her eyes... Then, he noticed a circle in white, surfacing from the murky blackness...

Then another...

He was falling, down into the fading point of the tunnel...

Into oblivion...

"Sister! SISTER!"

The Princess of the Sun was woken from a deep, dreamless sleep...

"Oooh... What is it, Lulu?" she moaned groggily.

"Sister, wake up!" Luna snapped "It's Discord!"

Suddenly, Celestia was wide awake.

"Discord?! Did he escaped?! Did he took the Elements of Harmony?! Did he--?!" she stopped when she saw Luna shaking her head.

"No, sister! He's still encased in stone!"

"Then why...?" the elder diarch didn't understood...

"That's it!" Luna explained "It's the statue!"

"...What about it?"

"It's crying blood!"

On the top of the highest tower, half laying, half standing with his heels digging into the eaves, he stared at the night sky...

The stars were moving...

"Soon, it'll be time..." he thought, pushing his glasses back in front of his eyes - he had no nose to push up onto.

The crescent moon shone it's brightest, and when he focused, he could see four stars emerging from behind it.

Gray shadows stretched long.

The night was ending.

"Soon, it'll start..." he muttered, as if he was promising to someone.

He leaped off the roof, landing on the balcony below.

Overlooking the garden, his eyes sat on a twisted, misshapen statue, covered in a darkness murkier than what's natural...

Even in the darkness, he could see the crimson drops it cried...

"Soon, your test shall come..." he promised "And we'll see, if you're one of us..."

He gazed up at the night sky, into the darkness between the stars, until his eyes managed to focus as further as possible - seeing nothing but lights: white and red.

"...Or them..."

Interlude-II

The setting sun colored the sky in an armada of warm, beautiful colors.

It was near the end of summer - nights growing longer and days growing shorter, the evenings and mornings becoming colder and colder...

The engines watched the sunset from their yard - it was achingly beautiful!

The mares sat on top of their cabs, taking in the sight of Celestia's sunset...

It was the end of the weekend - last few hours of Sunday. Soon, the week will start-over, again and again, as Autumn drew closer.

"Time sur' is goin' fast..." the applefarmer muttered "It felt like a week, an' look! Summer's nearly gone!"

"Indeed..." the fashionista agreed "Sweetie Belle insists on counting the days left of it... It reminds me of myself when I was at her age..."

"EeeyuP!" Applejack chuckled "As much as we "loved" ta go t' school, Ah missed Summahtime all year."

"Oh? That's strange..." Pinkie Pie uttered "I remember that you always said that you liked Winter the most..."

"That's 'cause Ah was a small filly, an' didn' wan'ed ta work all the time..."

"I, personally, LOVE winter!" Derek declared enthusiastically.

"Do you?" Rarity asked "But I thought none of you liked it, since you all have trouble starting in the cold."

"Most of us do..." Spamcan replied "Bu' Dere's eng'ne A'WAYS ove'heats in th' Summe', so he pr'ferr'd Winte' instead..."

"Speaking of which, have you got your engine fixed?" Twilight asked.

"Not really..." the Class 17 replied "The main problem is with my cooling system, anyway... The regular treatment I receive here helps a lot, but my teething troubles are far from being over..."

""Teething" troubles?" Rarity snorted "Aren't you a few decades older than that age?"

"I am." he replied "We all are. But teething troubles can last longer with us engines."

"Ah cun' see THAT..." Applejack smirked "How old are ya, anyway?"

"Ummm..." the engine pondered "I was built in '63, so I'll be... Fifty next year!"

"Woah Nelly!" the cowmare jumped "FIFTY years?"

She looked over Derek.

"You carry yerself very well, then..."

"Mechanical age doesn't REALLY count for us engines..." Old Stuck-Up explained "It's the mental age what counts."

"That's why you're so wrinkled and frowny?" Pinkie asked cheekily.

"Such insolence! Bleh bleh bleh...!" the diesel sputtered.

"Ah, shove a sock in i', Stuck-Up!" Spamcan snapped "Bu' yeah, we're ALL olde' than th' lot of ya... My mechanical age is 51."

"Mine's 50 as well." Bowler added.

"Well, I'm 54!" Stuck-Up declared "That makes me senior!"

"Bollocks!" BoZo snapped "I'M much older, and so is the Breakfather and Cromwell!"

"Why, how old ARE you?" Spike asked.

"I was built in '26, which makes meee..." he did a bit of counting "86!"

"Geez! You're a Methuselah!" Rainbow chuckled.

"He would be..." Stuck-Up growled "If he wouldn't be a replica of the original Kitson-Still Hybrid."

"Prove it."

The Class 40 just sulked.

"What about you guys?" the pegasus asked, turning to the hazard striped shunters.

"We were built 56 years ago..." 'Arry said slowly, mentally checking his calculations "In '56, I think..."

"What, during the time of the Revolution?" Bowler asked.

"Ooooh! Was it like the one we had a week ago?" Pinkie asked.

"Nah..." Bert chuckled "Tha' one was AG'INST communism... O', a' leas', th' Soviet Union..."

"Was it victorious?" Twilight asked with enthusiasm.

"No..." 'Arry replied sadly "I' was drow'ed in blood..."

The mares felt sad...

They didn't know who fought for what, but the idea of "drowning in blood", especially for an entire revolution, sounded horrific.

"Not all revolutions succeed." Diesel spoke up morosely "Anyways, I'm 60."

"Wow!" Twilight uttered, truly amazed "That makes you the oldest engine in the yard... Mechanically speaking..."

"Yeah, but since that, I've had so many upgrades that I've been completely rejuvenated."

"It's the mental age that counts." Stuck-Up repeated himself "Which explains why you and Derek are sooo chaffy "fresh" - you're as incompetent as you were 40 years ago!"

"Ah, go hump yourself!" Diesel growled "What about you, CoBo?"

"I'm 53."

"Hah! Still one year behind!"

"Yeah, and several decades and eras ahead..." the Class 28 growled "The reason why you LOOK so old is because you live in the past! Drooling for a Dining Club membership?!"

"Heh... SUCH good friends..." Spike muttered, unimpressed.

"Such as loife, ki', ge' use' t' i'!" 'Arry muttered.

"Speaking of which..." Fluttershy spoke up, successfully grabbing everyone's attention.

She turned towards Rainbow Dash.

"Are we still on... Trial?" she asked.

The others fell silent.

Rainbow Dash's "Trial" of trust had been going on for a month now. The others have long forgotten about it, as it was rarely brought up - even Dash herself didn't remember until then.

She thought hard now...

On one hoof, she actually sorta enjoyed having control over the others, even if in such small proportion - having them trying to humor her, gratify her to win her trust... Feels wrong, but satisfying in the same time.

It feels like...

Like...

"...Einstand."
"What?"
"Einstand." Bert repeated.
"What does that mean?"
"I's a German wo'd which me'ns "t' ta'e sum'hin' on th' roigh' o' th' stronge'". Club law conf'scation."
"...I still don't get it."
"A'su'lly, i' me's t' c'remonic'lly arroive sum'whe'e..." 'Arry explained "Bu' i' received a dif'rent me'nin' in "Th' Paul Stree' Boys".
"The what now?"
"Th' Paul Stree' Boys. I's a famous children's book from ou' wo'ld..." the shunter replied "On' o' moy favorites."
"You read books?"
"Yeah. Whoy?"
"N-Nothing! So... Is it good?"
"An eve'green. Ya shoul' re'd i'. Has a sad endin', bu' i's great!"
"Yeah, a bi' o' change afte' all dose Darin'-Do comics!"
"OK, OK! So... What does "Einstand" mean?"
"I' me'ns: t' ta'e sum'hin' on behalf o' th' roigh' o' th' stronge'. When an olde', stronge' ki' sees a smalle', weake' on' playin' wi'h sum'hin' he o' she would loike, he o' she goes dere, an' says on' wo'd: Einstand. I' me'ns tha' th' he o' she c'nside's th' smalle' ki's toy a booty, a trophy, an' tha' i' th' smalle' ki' da'es t' resist, he o' she WILL use violence."
"So, "einstand" is also a declaration of war, right?"
"So't of..."
"I's th' dictum o' statarium. Club law. Force. Bully rule."
"...That doesn't sound nice."
"Eh. Depends on which role ya ta'e..."
"So... Why did you called 'einstand'?"
"...Ya gunna drin' tha' cide' o' not? Ya've been holdin' i' fo' a good 'ou' by no'..."
"...You could've just asked..."
"I know... Bu' i's funnie' dis way..."
"How?"
"...I dunno. I' just is..."
"..."
"Einstand."
"GO GET YOUR OWN!"
"...OK..."

...On the other hoof, it felt cheap...

Her friends have been trying to adjust to her conditions to gain her trust back. Well, most of them. Gilda didn't seemed to bother, and, truth to be told, she wasn't de facto on trial - she still kept the trust she put in Dash, and the feeling was mutual. It was just her style. Or CoBo's, she couldn't tell - the two of them had grown close in their sulky, word-avoiding ways, and the misanthropic diesel seemed to serve not only as a friend, but as in influence as well.

The same thing could be said about the other diesels and their drivers...

The pegasus sighed, and looked back at her friends with her eyes half closed, mouth a sharp line. Fluttershy squirmed under her gaze - it was cute when she did that...

But, as she looked around, she saw that her friends looked at her differently...

The lithe Fluttershy was respectful and gentle as always, but she seemed to be... Pushing herself a bit more into submission towards her...

Rarity, truly a fitting driver for Stuck-Up, tried to keep her composure, but all the same, she looked at her with a slight, almost unnoticeable anxiety... As if waiting judgment...

The ever-honest Applejack didn't bother putting on a façade - she was waiting as well, ready to accept whatever Rainbow has to say.

Gilda looked away, leaning up against the side of CoBo - not avoiding her gaze, just... Not caring... Though, her face carried a gloomy expression.

Pinkie Pie, albeit smiling, looked a bit nervous as well, her smile growing weaker as time passed...

Twilight was her studious self, with Spike by her side, both waiting for her announcement... Although... They seemed on edge.

Rainbow glanced to the side.

The engines stood in a gloomy, saturnine line, with an unsympathetic deadpan. Among them, 'Arry and Bert, the Iron Twins, stood out - they seemed even more rough, more grim and austere... Almost ominous...

"The Element of Fear has to sides: Shock and Dread, also known as Horror and Terror - jumpscare and buildup. Shock overwhelms your mind, Dread numbs it. In any case, Fear is a good way to possess power over others."

A dark shadow ran through her face.

This isn't what she wanted to be...

This isn't how she wanted to be remembered...

"Guys... I put you on trial because I felt I wasn't receiving it from you, right?"

The others nodded.

"Well, I realized that you have to earn one's trust... You can't just ask for it..."

Her friends smiled.

"Oh, but we were charging you too much for it, weren't we?" Rarity asked.

"Maybe..." the pegasus replied "But what's been done is done. You had a taste of your own medicine, so it's OK."

"And what a sour taste it was!" the white unicorn exclaimed, then smiled "It's glad to have you back, darling!"

""Back"?" Gilda uttered "There's no "back". She's been here with us all along, now hasn't she?" she asked "You were just too scared to talk to her."

"True..." Applejack sighed "So... Are we in?"

"Have we... Regained you trust?" Fluttershy asked, cautiously.

Dash smiled.

"Sure! You are my friends, after all!"

The others smiled as well.

"That's it?"

They stopped smiling.

"Really? That's it?!"

Diesel looked discontent.

"What a blow!"

"What's wrong?" Twilight asked.

"What do you mean, "what's wrong"?!" the shunter snapped, and the other engines seemed to share his feelings.

"They give you Hell for months on end, and you let them slip after a few weeks?!" Stuck-Up spluttered, glaring at the polychromatic mare "AND with such a weak note: "You are my friends"? Are you mad?!"

"Now what's yer problem?!" Applejack shouted "We finally got this ordeal behind us, so what are you bellyachin' about?!"

"Well, EXCUUUUUSE ME for being irritated by cheap, cliché solutions!"

"Cheap? What the Hay are you talking about?" Rainbow snapped.

"What are we talking about? What are YOU talking about?!" Bowler snapped back "Your friends, YOUR OWN FRIENDS, didn't trusted you and neglected you in your time of need, for months on end. So you let them cook in their own sauce for, what, a mere month? THEN, you literally EXCUSE YOURSELF for standing up against them, even though they deserved it, and give a weak, shitty reason why you "forgave" them, bringing the whole ordeal to an end in the most stereotypical, blatant way possible!"

The mares couldn't reply to that.

"So, what's wrong? YOU'RE A GOD DAMNED CLICHÉ, AND FAIL TO NOTICE THE HORRENDOUS AMOUNT OF STUPIDITY AND COWARDICE THAT RADIATES FROM YOUR DECISION, THAT'S WHAT!" Diesel bellowed, as the engines quickly started their motors, and rumbled away sulkily.

The ponies, the griffon and the dragon stood there for a few minutes...

"What the heck just happened?" Pinkie asked.

"I think... We've been put down..." Fluttershy replied.

"Scorned..." Rarity agreed "But... For what?"

"Y-Yeah..." Dash muttered "What's wrong with them."

"They didn't liked the way you put things behind yourself, Dash." Gilda answered her.

"It seems so..." Twilight agreed.

"But still... WHAT was that?" Spike muttered.

"I think..." the unicorn began "They expected something more... Something... Dark and dramatic. At least, that's what I concluded from what they've said."

"They seek entertainment in other's anguish?" Rarity huffed, before uttering "That's parasitic..."

"No, I think they just... Didn't expected things to turn out... So positive THIS easily..." Twilight replied.

"But why?" Rainbow asked, confused "Isn't it good when we sort things out this smoothly?"

"They may have found it abnormal..." the lavender unicorn replied "Unnatural..."

"How come?" Applejack asked "We got things sorted out among ourselves, and everypony was happy. That's good, isn't it?"

"It may be for us..." Twilight explained.

"...But for them, things usually don't go so easily..." Fluttershy continued, finally understanding what the unicorn said.

"So, in their world, things don't usually end well..." Spike deduced "Which is why they were angry. They were envious!"

"Not as much envious as enraged..." Twilight went on "For them, this conclusion seemed like a cheap, unrealistic act."

"But, then... If they saw this as an act, why were they mad?" Applejack pondered.

"They DIDN'T saw it as an act..." the unicorn went on "They were fully aware that this "trial" was coming to it's end, but they expected... I don't know, an "extension" instead of a "pardon"... Because that would've been more realistic to them. More... Normal."

""Normal"?" Applejack snorted "Well, if that is what's "normal" to them, then..."

"The concept of normality differs for every and each." Twilight interrupted her sharply "They're used to having things the hard way... Perhaps, for them, our entire world is a watered down joke."

"Which means that their world would be a real horror show to us..." Rainbow sniffed "Some world..."

"Some life..." Gilda muttered, as the sun finally set.

Some life...

Episode 14 - Great, Powerful, Fatal

GREAT, POWERFUL, FATAL

It was yet another morning in the yard. Some of the engines had already set off to work, namely the shunters, Diesel, 'Arry, Bert and Steamie. BoZo was finally being overhauled - the workponies' intention was to make him resemble the original Kitson-Still locomotive more, while being a hundred times more efficient.

Such privileges were simply impossible for the Thin Git's pocket - not for Equestrian Rail's.

The big engines rested in the shed, idly chatting - they were still sleepy for real conversations...

"So... You prefer Mozart over Beethoven, right?" Bowler asked.

"Well, yes..." Cromwell replied "I mean, Beethoven's works are truly inspiring, especially for the never generations - and certain sadistic teens -, but Mozart's symphonies have more... Passion!"

"I see what you mean..." the green Class 40 replied.

"Say... Bowler..." CoBo spoke up, interrupting them.

"What is it?"

"Do you have a driver?"

"Hmmm? What, you mean, a driver employed by the Princesses' program?"

"Yeah..."

"No, not yet..."

"You better hurry up, lad, the writer is running out of filler stories!"

"...What?!"

"Nothing."

Two fillies were trotting down the dirt road.

It wasn't even a road, just a path where the grass was stomped into nothing by the workponies who frequently used it. One of them, the gray one, had her ear perked up, a smile on her face, as she trotted towards the fence going around the side of the shunting yard.

"Do we really have to do this?" the purple one asked.

"You were the one who agreed to come along." her friend replied "You know what you were into."

"No, I didn't!" the other filly snapped "You haven't told me anything about this!"

The gray pony had to agree.

"Look, it's the end of Summer, literally my last chance to get it! He's the only one left!"

"That's exactly my point! It's the end of summer! We should be doing something fun, not just run around taking pictures!"

"But his picture is the only one I need!"

"Exactly! It's just one picture!" the filly reasoned "Couldn't it wait?"

"No!" the other announced sharply, ending all other conversation. She then turned to her photo apparatus "Now, all I gotta do is..."

"Hi, Silver Spoon! Diamond Tiara!"

The two fillies jumped, and looked ahead - the path led through a loose row of tall trees with vertical branches reaching up, giving the trees a distinct pillar-shape. It was smaller hill, and the road on the other side sloped slightly. Ahead of them, at the bottom of the slope, were the Cutie Mark Crusaders.

It was Sweetie Belle that called out to them, while Apple Bloom stared in surprise, and Scootaloo, with suspicion.

"What are YOU two doing here?" she asked, sharply.

Diamond Tiara didn't liked this tone. She was about to make a witty remark, but Silver Spoon was quicker - she knew it very well that the sister (and the idol) of each crusader worked on the railway, and she was not willing to pass up this chance.

"We're here to take a photo of a train!" she announced enthusiastically.

The CMC were surprised.

"Are ya?" Apple Bloom asked.

"...YYyeah... Why?" the gray filly asked. Beside her, Diamond Tiara was squirming in embarrassment.

"Ah just... Didn't took ya fer a trainspotter..." the earth pony replied, shrugging.

"Actually, I only need one more picture!" Silver Spoon replied.

"Oh, really?" Scootaloo asked, narrowing her eyes.

"About what?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Not "what". Who."

"You want a picture of the Doctor?" the unicorn asked, raising a metaphoric eyebrow.

The gray pony shook her head.

"I need a picture of a certain train. I got the picture of everyone, except him."

"Him? Who is it?" Scootaloo asked curiously.

"That black, boxy engine with six wheels. The one we first met on our field trip." the filly explained.

"Who? Diesel?" Apple Bloom asked, before smiling "Why didn' ya said so before? He's easy ta find - he's a yard shunter, after all!"

"Yeah... Hard to believe you haven't saw him before..." the pegasus filly added, her suspicion returning.

Silver Spoon knew she was thin ice, so she went forward, and asked:

"Could you take me to him? I only need his picture."

Scootaloo was about to deny her, but Sweetie Belle, being the ever-courteous sort, was quick to help.

"Sure!" she replied.

"But ya'll been tryin' from th' wrong side..." Apple Bloom mused.

"Wrong... Side?" Diamond Tiara muttered.

"Yeah. Diesel works on the other side of the yard." the ebony unicorn explained "You have to go around..."

"Go... Around?" the purple filly uttered desperately. She wanted to get out of the situation badly. Being seen by a bunch of blank flanks, while doing such nerdy things was already excruciating - asking them for help would be another spadeful of manure.

But her friend was inexorable.

"Can you show us the way?" she asked, smiling brightly to numb the effect of Diamond going "AUUUUGH!" in the background.

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo exchanged looks, but Sweetie Belle smiled back.

"Sure! Follow us!"

They led them around the yard, with Sweetie Belle, and eventually, Apple Bloom chatting with Silver Spoon about her hobby, and trains... Doddering behind them was a moody Diamond Tiara, and at the end of the group, Scootaloo, marching behind the rich filly, keeping an eye on her.

They arrived to the other side of the yard in jiffy, and soon, Silver Spoon was busy preparing for the shot...

Diesel wasn't happy.

Sure, he wasn't having such a rough job as he thought he would, but still, it was a boring, bothersome shift this morning. He was biffing a row of trucks into their place, when...

"Excuse me, mister, ummm..."

"Diesel."

"Diesel!"

He turned his eyes to the side.

Five fillies were on the fence, one of them holding an old fashioned photo camera.

"What do you want?" he asked on the most patient voice he could muster.

"A picture?" the gray filly in the glasses asked.

In response, Diesel showed his nefarious smirk. The machine clicked, and it was soon done.

"Thank you!" the fillies called out, and left.

Diesel smirked to himself. Perhaps, this day isn't going to be that bad, after a--...

From the corner of his eye, he saw a blue mare with a silvery mane and tail on the road heading towards the town. She had an all-too-familiar cutie mark, and a listless, yet, determined look on her face.

"Crap..."

"Hey, check this out!" Spike called out. He was taking out a book from one of the top shelves - quite an old one, by the looks of it.

"What have you found, Spike?" Twilight asked, half looking up from her own book.

"Something you've never read before!" the dragon announced proudly, only to have the book snatched from his claws.

"'The Parchment of Gods'." the unicorn said, reading the title, before opening it on a random page. At instant, all of her interest was drawn to it.

After some minutes, her expression changed from delightful to earnest...

"Twilight?" her assistant asked.

"'Many ponies could tell that Magick is an everlasting, complete power that is everywhere.'" she read out loud "'Three kinds of it are known: Elemential, Adeptian, and Arcane. All three folks of the Equines have Magick within them, but it, but it differs for each folk: Right ponies have Elemential Magick flowing through their veins, which they use to communicate with Mother Nature. The closer one right pony stands to a unicorn, the stronger it his or her Magick gets - giving the pony the ability to control the Four Elements: Earth, as in Mud, Iron and Rock, Water, as in ice, steam, clouds, bog water, poisons, healing potions, and the like, Fire, of every sort, and Air. Only unicorns are capable of mixing the Elements.'"

"Whoa..." was the only thing Spike could say "Wait... 'Right ponies'?"

"An obsolete label for earth ponies..."

"Oh... And what about the "standing close" thing?"

"It probably means being closely related to one."

"Aha... Go on..."

"'Pegasuses use, even without knowledge, Adeptian Magick - it is the very thing that gives a pegasus foal the knowledge to use his wings.'"

"He means instinct, right?"

"Of course. 'Adeptian Magick isn't related to any Element, though pegasuses often use it to create weather - Rain, thunder, lightning, snow, sleet, and the like. It is a Magick that helps with the things we always do.' This means that everyday and action-based spells are all Adeptian magick!"

"You mean, "magic", right?" the dragonling smirked. Twilight just frowned, and continued:

"'Archaic Magick is the way of the unicorns. They can use the other two kinds as well, but they are the only ones who can show visible Magick - the spark and essence of it. Yet, it is not know HOW they can produce such anomaly of Nature. And so, their kind of Magick has been named as such, it's origins covered by dust and lost memories...'"

"Huh... Odd..."

"Yeah... I wonder when this book was written."

"Why?"

"The origin of Unicorn magic remains a mystery to this day... And nopony knows when was the question even brought up, and by who?"

"Wasn't it... Starswirl?"

"That's plausible. Many clues, and his recently discovered studies lead to him, but still, too many questions remain to circle it down onto him..." the mare replied, flipping the through the pages... When something caught her eye.

"Yeah, but still... Twilight?"

"'Many Gods and Godesses are said to exist in the great Aether beyond Equestria. Most well known ones are our Princesses, Celestia Amaterasu Solaris, and Luna Tsuki Selene, their parents, King Universe and Queen Galaxy, former rulers of the Land, and the old, evil or insane God, Discord Kaosu Confusius. Also notable is the Changeling King Chitin, who's respectable and prosperous empire fell during the reign of Discord.'" Spike, this book is ancient!"

"Hmmm..."

"Hmmm?"

"First of, I didn't know that the Princesses even HAD parents - or second AND third names. Second, I didn't know that the Changelings once had a venerable empire. Third..." he looked at the mare "How come the book describes Discord as either evil, or insane?"

"Well, he is, pardon, WAS the spirit, and, apparently, god of Chaos - they couldn't decide whether he was truly vicious or simply mad."

"...Still, I don't know..."

"Neither did they." Twilight muttered, rolling her eyes "Let's give it the benefit of doubt."

"OK. Go on..."

So Twilight continued:

"'Magick also belongs to them. It has been decided that Allicorns are with Elemental Magick, mostly - for the only ones we had seen are bound to Sun and Moon, but they can perform the feats of all three pony folks. Changelings are the masters of Adeptian Magick - the main source of their shape-shifting powers. Draconequuses use Arcane Magick - the Magick capable of changing the flow of time, the picture of the land, and the ways and likings of ponies alike.'"

"Wait, so there's MORE than one draconequus?" Spike gasped.

"Not any that we know of." Twilight replied, flipping the page "This certainly is an interesting book. Thanks, Spike!"

"Your welcome..." the dragon smiled.

The next chapter in the book was entitled "Prophecies and Curses", and large list of foretold tales - neatly separated as curses or prophecies, and whether they became real or not. Most of them thankfully weren't, and a large number remained unsolved. Most of them was utter horseapples, but the last one caught Twilight's interest.

"The Triumph of Mortality" was it's title.

"'It is said that one the anniversary of the end of an ancient calendar, new Gods will enter the land of Equestria - brought forth by heroes of another world, who shall team up with the heroines of Equestria, two defend our world from many adversaries - even the Gods and their own selves.'"

"'The new Gods will be alien to the Magickal land of ours, one being the bearer of Knowledge untold and unimaginable, another possessing great Respect, bound in cold, the third one harboring great sadness aside his powers of Tradition, the third one cruel and insane, yet prejudged, holder of Lies and Pain, the fourth one holding a hammer in his hand, bringing forth the spring of the folk, while he will darken the sky, the sixth one hidden away from the eyes of the living, tolling the dead on their journey to Eden, and the last one, though not a God, will change it's side from the enemies to the equines.'"

"'And Chaos, Darkness and Mascara shall aid the heroes and heroines, as they, with the help of the Gods themselves, shall defeat enemies greater than Celestia, greater than Discord, greater than War, Famine and the likes, and greater than Death itself. And in the end, the heroes shall become one with the heroines. And a new time of peace shall reign over Equestria - into eternity.'"

The two friends exchanged puzzled and worried looks.

Why did it... Sound so real?

A frantic rapping on the door interrupted their thoughts. Rainbow Dash burst into the library.

"Twilight! Quick! It's an emergency!" she cried.

"What? Why? What's wrong?" the unicorn asked anxiously.

"Trixie!" Dash explained "She's back."

"Crap..."

She trotted through the town without any interruption. Ponies hurried away from his path, merchants retreated under the shadows of the canopy of their stands. Fillies and colts rushed out of her sight. She kept her gaze straight ahead, not bothering to look to the sides. She wasn't stomping, marching or galloping. Just trotting at a comfortable pace.

A group of mares came running towards her.

"It's showtime..."

"Trixie!" Dash called out angrily, as they approached the mare. Trixie didn't reply. She just stared at her, listlessly.

"What are YOU doin' back 'ere?!" Applejack snapped. The showmare didn't reply. Her gaze slowly moved around on each pony.

"Nothing..." she finally replied, and trotted on, pass the mares.

The Mane 6 exchanged confused looks.

"Have I heard it right?" Rarity muttered "'Nothing'?"

"That's what she said, alright..." Applejack nodded, musing.

"She didn't had her hat or cape..." Twilight uttered.

"Well, she DID left it all behind after the Ursa Minor attack, right?"

"Yeah..." Rainbow muttered, wondering "...What's up with her?"

"She looked so... So... Indifferent..." Fluttershy muttered.

"I think she's possessed." the polychromatic mare replied, successfully grabbing the full attention of her friends "Have you seen her face? No emotion! Almost as if..."

"Ah don' think she's possessed, R.D.." said Applejack.

"What, why?" Twilight asked.

"Why not?" Rainbow added.

"Ah saw her face when she said it. An' Ah heard her voice crystal clear..."

"A.J., she's a showpony!" Rainbow argued "It could've been an act! She could be just playing to make us feel a false sense of safety, then WHAM!" she exclaimed, with much gesticulation.

"Didn' ya said tha' she was possessed, just a few seconds ago?" Applejack muttered.

The pegasus just frowned, while Rarity spoke up.

"Applejack has a point, Rainbow. And as the Element of Honesty, I believe she knows more about truth and lies than any of us."

Rainbow sighed.

"Fine."

"So, what do you think, A.J.?" Twilight asked.

The applefarmer thought back. She noticed the blue pony's odd behavior even before they confronted her. Something was off.

"She was tellin' th' truth, alrigh'." she said, looking up "Bu' sum'thin's really wrong with her... As if... Sum'thin' really bad has happened ta her, tha' took all o' her motivation. Her will ta boast, ta fight..."

She shuddered.

"Even her will ta survive!"

The others exchanged worried looks. All except for Rainbow Dash.

"She faking it." she announced "I think we should keep an eye on her..."

"That IS the plan, Rainbow Dash." Twilight replied "Something's not right with her, and we have to figure out what it is!"

"Why?" the cyan pegasus asked "I like her better this way. No boast, no fuss."

"Rainbow Dash!" Rarity snapped "How could you say such a thing?!"

"What?!" the mare asked, looking down at her friend from the sky "Don't say you don't prefer THIS Trixie over the one that brought the Ursa into the town!"

"Well, first off, it wasn't Trixie!" the white unicorn reminded her "It was Snips and Snails."

"Only because she told them lies!" Rainbow snapped back "None of that would have happened if she would kept her mouth shut. Which she is doing right now, so there!"

The others glared.

"Well, I can't believe how HEARTLESS you can be!" Rarity huffed "I would say that 'Arry and Bert are a bad influence to you, but, having actually talked to them, I can clearly see that even such a duo of thugs know better than YOU!"

"What?!" Rainbow snapped.

"Anyways..." the unicorn went on, clearing her throat "Even though Trixie's actions in the past may had disastrous consequences, we can't just sit and laugh when she's in such a state..."

""State"? C'mon, Rarity, aren't you overreac--..."

"The mare's broken, Rainbow Dash!" the white mare exclaimed "Something made her so... Numb and indifferent! She's not the same mare she was. And even though I did suffer from her... "Stage act" the last time, I can still think this isn't right. It's almost, as if..." she searched for the right effect "Discord had possessed her, the same way he possessed us! You honestly can't wish THAT to anyone!

Rainbow just frowned.

"Hmph!" she uttered, and turned her back to them. Rarity was speechless...

She did found her voice, eventually...

"Well! I would've never...!"

"Settle down, Rare!" Applejack called out to her, before turning to the pegasus "Look, Rainbo'... Ya may be right... Maybe she IS acting. In fact, maybe she IS tryin' ta have us fall in'o her trap."

She paused.

"Bu'... Weren't YOU th' one who argued with us tha' we didn' put trus' in ya?"

Rainbow's eyes widened, before she turned to the others.

Applejack stared back at her with a serious look.

Finally, the cyan mare pouted.

"Are you guys going to bring this up EVERY time? 'Cause it was YOUR fault in the first place, not MINE!"

"R.D...."

"Fine, fine!" she sighed, giving in "I'm sorry..."

"Don't say that to us..." Twilight replied "Say that to Trixie!"

"Oooh... Where is she?" Fluttershy asked.

The mares looked around, puzzled. Pinkie, who, to everyone's surprise, had been even more quiet than Fluttershy, stared into the distance, with eyes widened, mouth slightly agape.

Dash was quick to notice this...

"Pinkie?"

The mare kept staring, eyes the size of saucers, pupils like pinpricks. The others noticed this, too...

"Pinkie?" Twilight asked "Are you alright?"

The pink pony didn't reply for a long them.

Then, she took a wheezing gasp of a breath, as she began screaming.

"OHMYGODNESSSHE'SGOINGFORSUGARCUBECORNEEEEEEER!!!"

"That'll be five bits, please." Mr. Cake said with a smile. The young mare in front of him nodded, and took out a very empty looking bitbag. She gently put the the exact amount on the counter, wordlessly, took her mignon, and sat down at one of the tables. She looked vaguely familiar, but the stallion couldn't recall her name for his life.

His wife seemed more concerned.

"Poor dear..." she muttered, trying to be quiet so the mare wouldn't hear her.

"What do you think, what's wrong with her?" her husband asked.

"I don't know..." Mrs. Cake replied "But I've never seen anyone look so bereft of emotions..."

"She only ordered a single, caramel-chocolate-coated kugler..." the stallion added "...Without any drinks!"

Mrs. Cake's eyes widened slightly.

"Nopony orders such a sweet thing without anything to wash it down." she uttered "Even if she didn't had the bits, she should at least asked for a glass of water..."

"She had her mind set when she came in." the baker went on "I saw her pick the mignon through the glass of the door, and she came in, coming straight towards me - no smile, nothing!"

The two stared at the mare, sitting quietly with the sweet treat on the table in front of her, untouched.

"I've never seen such an empty glance in my life..." Mr. Cake added, as quiet as possible.

"And only heartbroken mares could stand sweetness at that caliber..." Mrs. Cake put in "Perhaps... She lost her loved one?"

"Forever, by the looks of it..." her husband agreed.

They settled with that, still staring at the mare... Until they noticed Pinkie and her friends outside, staring at Trixie through the grand window, suspiciously.

"Look at her!" Rainbow exclaimed "She's just sitting there!"

"Well, her expression didn't change, tha's fer sure..." Applejack mused.

Pinkie was still panicking.

"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! She'sinSugarcubeCorner! WhatisshegonnadotoMr.andMrs.Cake?! Whatisshegonnadotothetwins?! Whatwill-Hey!"

The others looked up.

"She only ordered a chocolate and caramel covered kugler..." the pink mare mused.

"You mean, mignon?"

"Nopony eats JUST a kugler without any drink, unless..."

Pinkie suddenly gasped, as a sad expression spread on her face.

"What?!" Twilight asked.

"She's depressed!" Pinkie explained, pouting.

"D-Depressed?" Rainbow uttered "THIS much?"

"This IS serious, girls!" Twilight announced "If Pinkie's deduction is right, the Trixie is soo depressed that she's been pushed into acedia!"

"And what's that?" Dash asked.

"Acedia is an extreme form o' sloth." Applejack replied. She saw Twilight was about to disagree, so she quickly went on:

"Sloth is being too lazy ta change anythin' around ya. Apathy is not caring anymore about the world around ya, thus, ya do nothin'. Acedia isn't simply bein' lazy, careless o' ignorant... It means ye're too depressed ta even care anymore abou' ANYTHIN', even yer own self!. Too melancholic ta care abou' yer friends an' family, too disconnected ta care abou' ta world, too discouraged ta do anythin' with yourself! It isn' simply ignorance o' laziness, i's depression!"

"I see..." Rainbow muttered "But I don't see why is that such a problem..."

Then, she realized something...

"Unless she wants to kill herself..." she uttered, eyes growing wide.

"I think she's beyond the point of contemplating suicide." Twilight replied, a worried look present in her eyes "I'm going in!"

Trixie quietly sighed, blocking out the gossiping of the bakers, as she set out to eat her mignon.

She gently lifted the sugary goodness with her magic, and took a bite.

Heavenly sweetness filled her mouth - it reminded her of her fillyhood. A foalhood, gone so fast...

She sighed again, munching the sweet treat as quiet as she could... When someone sat next to her.

Looking up, the grinning face of Twiligh Sparkle greeted her.

"Hi!" she said, looking at the downcast mare "Can I sit here?"

She finished chewing her bite, swallowed, then replied:

"You are."

With that, she took another bite.

Twilight looked at the confectionery - she had approximately 4 bites left. She had to be quick.

Clearing her throat, she grabbed the blue mare's attention again.

"So, Trixie..." she began, mentally whacking herself on the head for such a cheap start "How are you?"

She paused, abruptly, before continuing:

"We haven't seen in ages..."

"A year, actually..." the mare replied, after swallowing another bite "I'm fine."

"This is going nowhere!" Twilight thought, and silently motioned her friends to come in.

They all walked in, bringing along an atmosphere of awkwardness. They sat or stood around Trixie's table, as she ate...

"Soooo... Where have you been?" Rainbow asked.

"Around Equestria..." the showmare replied, not looking up from her "meal".

"Aaand what have you been doing?" Rarity asked, with the sunniest smile she could muster - a hard thing to do if grey clouds cover the sky outside.

"The usual." Trixie uttered "Making a living."

"Uhuh..." Rainbow huffed "With what? Lying and cheating?"

A nonchalant glance from the showmare shut her up quick. In fact, it made her slowly lower to the ground, and lower her head, as she uttered:

"Sorry..."

Trixie just looked back at her mignon, now half of it's original size.

"But... What's with the frown, Trixie?" Pinkie Pie asked "Last time you were here, you were all proud and extrovert!"

"Charismatic..." Fluttershy added.

"But now, you're just a shadow of yourself..." Pinkie added, receiving the same glance Rainbow had, making her squirm.

"Please, don't put my mouth in the bin!" she begged.

Trixie did't do as much as raise an eyebrow, she just turned her stare back at her plate.

"Did something happen along the way?" Twilight asked, scuttling closer to the showmare "You seem so... Disheartened..."

"Is there anything troubling you?" Fluttershy asked "You can tell us... Um, if you want to, that is..."

"I'm fine." Trixie repeated, on the same shallow, monotone voice she had been talking.

"Then... How was your recent show?" Rarity asked, smiling.

"It was three months ago." Trixie replied "That's when I stopped trying."

The others exchanged worried looks.

"But... Why?" Twilight asked, contemplating on whether or not she should stroke the mare's hoof as a form of sympathy "You're an excellent showmare!"

"If a bit boisterous..." Rainbow uttered...

"The public didn't thought the same..." the mare replied "Not any more..."

"Well... Why is tha'?" Applejack asked, although she felt she knew the answer.

"I cannot tell. - Trixie muttered "Everywhere I went in the past year, I have been humiliated and ostracized. Ponies made fun of me behind my back. Sometimes, in front of my face as well..."

"I think I know the reason behind that..." Rarity replied, remembering the Foal Free Press incident "It was because of that... Tabloid, right?"

"Partly..." the mare exhaled "The case of the Ursa Minor didn't help, either..."

"Well, that's a pity..." Rarity replied "Anything we can do to help?"

Trixie finished her mignon, then stood up.

"No. I don't need your help." she replied sharply, making the mares jump slightly, who had grown accustomed to her quiet, monotone voice.

"Why?" Twilight asked.

"Why not?" Rainbow asked.

Trixie looked up, and made the pegasus take aback. She had the most hateful glare that the mares had ever seen. Not even Nightmare Moon, Discord, OR Chrysalis could sport, or possibly even muster such a loathful look.

"Why not?" Trixie repeated, her voice still having that sharp edge "Because, apparently, every pegasi in Equestria thought that wherever I may roam, I shall suffer from the worst weather possible. Me and me alone."

The mares gasped, and turned towards their cyan friend.

Rainbow couldn't say a word... She just slumped onto the ground, not daring to look into the eyes of her friends...

"Rainbo' Dash!" Applejack growled "Why, Ah nevah even thought...!"

"Or how about certain ponies that ALWAYS lead the angry mob that chases me out of town..." Trixie added "Oddly, they all seemed to be a member of ONE, certain farming family."

Another wave of shock ran trough the mares, as they stared at the cowpony. Applejack bowed her head, trying to cower her face with her hat...

"Ah... Ah don't..."

"Well, this is just great!" Rarity snapped "Applejack, just... How could you...?"

"And then, there were the aristocrats..." the showmare added, silencing the white unicorn "Every big city I went, I was abased and decried by the local upper class. The creme of society that used to adore me, as humble of a showpony I was, now rejected me and abused their powers to make my life miserable... Oddly enough, they all seemed to get their clothes and clothing ideas from the very same mare..."

Now, it was Rarity's turn to squirm, as she blushed and shut her eyes, turning her head away from her friends.

Pinkie glared at her friends.

"Why!" she snapped "I thought you guys were the best friends a mare can have! NOW, I see you can be just as much of a bunch of meanies as...!"

"The mare who organized all of the... "Welcome parties" in each town I went, going as far as to leave her signature in every nasty set-up?" Trixie asked ahead.

Pinkie's eyes widened, as she lowered her head as well. She didn't wanted to see the shocked gazes of her friends, or the disappointed frown and aghast glance of Mr. and Mrs. Cake.

"And let's not forget the horde of wild beasts that assaulted me on my way between towns..." Trixie added, making the others cast a horrified look on the dumbfounded Fluttershy.

The cream colored pegasus thought deeply - the idea of her animal friends attacking a... Relatively innocent pony seemed... Impossible! She would never condescend to do such a thing... But then, who...

A glint of anger lit up her eyes...

"Angel... Bunny..." she growled to herself. Thankfully, the others didn't notice, as Trixie had moved along.

"But these were just tips on the iceberg..." the showmare declared, somewhat regaining her original voice "My biggest shock came in Canterlot!"

Everyone in the room fell silent.

They were to horrified to think were this was going...

"As my last attempt to regain at least, SOME part of my former glory, I went and attempted to talk with the Princesses themselves... When I met them, they were consulting with a skinny, tall, bipedal guy with a round head, wearing railway officer's cap."

Twilight gulped.

"They were infuriated by my mere presence!" the showmare spat "I tried to talk to them reasonably, ask them for advice, plead, beg... They wanted none of it! They said that I was completely worthless and hopeless! That I hadn't a reason to exist! They contemplated, loudly, whether or not I should be kicked out of Equestria, or executed on the spot! In their final burst of rage, Princess Celestia promised me that if I EVER dare to show up in Canterlot again, she'll personally exile me into the center of the Sun!"

The mares were simply thunderstruck. Never, in their lives, have they seen or heard the Princesses acting with malice - they widely known for their benevolence and patience. The way Trixie depicted them made them look absolutely viscous!

"The only one who was somewhat nice to me was that tall guy.." the mare went on "He offered to take me out of Canterlot, instead of having the guards parade me across the city. He teleported me out, and muttered something about the Princesses being stressed by recent events occurring in the Royal Garden and other nonsense."

The others looked up, suddenly more interested.

"Actually, I owe him my thanks." the showmare explained "As he was the one who actually told me that YOU, Twilight Sparkle, are the personal student of Princess Celestia herself, and above that, the Element of Magic."

Twilight's eyes widened, as she slumped onto the ground. She couldn't believe her ears... Could the Princesses...? But she didn't...!

"No..." she uttered "No, this can't..."

The showmare was leaving.

"Trixie, I... We... It wasn't on purpose!" she called after her.

Trixie stopped and shot her a glare above her shoulder.

"I. Don't. Care." she uttered, leaving the shop...

The mares just sat there, feeling no better than the blue pony did when she entered the bakery...

Then, shaking her head and the oppressing sadness out of it, Twilight pursued her onto the street.

Trixie's overall appearance changed now. She had that air of fatality around her, and her movement was now more profound, more determined. Ponies still got out of her way, none daring to cross her.

Apart from two colts...

"Trixie! TRIXIE!" Snips called out, running towards her.

"Wait up!" Snails added.

The mare glanced towards them, sweeping her mane out of her face, revealing her glare.

The two colts stopped dead in their tracks.

"Great and Powerful Trixie..." Snails began...

"We've... We've heard you were back..." Snips spoke "We wanted to see if you're... Alright."

Trixie growled, as indigo and blue magic lit up her horn, wrapping the two colts in an aura of the same color, before tossing them away into the air.

...Until they made close acquaintance with a nearby wall.

"I think... She's still mad at us..." Snails moaned, as he slowly came off the side of the building, bringing down a lair of paint and insulation.

"Yeah..." Snips muttered, as he did the same.

The showmare just trotted on, not caring what happened to the two dumb colts, as Twilight finally caught up to her.

"Trixie! Trixie!"

She paid no attention.

"Trixie! Look, I'm... We're sorry!" Twilight began "We didn't mean to...!"

"If you were REALLY sorry..." Trixie hissed "You wouldn't have done it in the first place!"

"But... We didn't!" Rainbow Dash replied desperately, as she caught up to the two "You got it all wrong!"

"We didn' told anypony ta antagonize ya!" Applejack added, also catching up.

"Oh, really?" the mare asked with a venomous tone.

"Yes!" the lavender unicorn replied "We would never do such things!"

"Then explain this to me, Twilight Sparkle..." Trixie snorted "WHY did they happen?!"

Twilight didn't know what to say. Luckily, her friends did.

"I never told my animal friends about you!" Fluttershy explained "But I was there with my pet bunny, Angel... The naughty critter must have decided to have revenge on you... For some reason..." the mare finished, becoming quiet.

She wasn't picked on by Trixie... She didn't understand...

"Hmph! SOME Angel!" the showmare growled, not stopping.

"Ah remember tha' Ah DID mention ya last Apple Family Reunion..." Applejack spoke up "Ah didn' mean' ta cause ya any harm, but mah family probably decided tha' ya deserved ta be taught a lesson!" she finished, before talking to herself, grumpily "Ah thought we had agreed NOT ta resort ta such stupid, hillbilly thin's... Ah gotta have a LONG talk with 'em next time..."

"Look..." Rainbow Dash began "I would NEVER, not even if it was my biggest nemesis, would have other pegasi gang up against someone!" she explained "Come to think of it, I wouldn't even be able to do it! I mean, we pegasi are a team, we hold together, but it doesn't work like that!"

"Ah thin' they were jus' joinin' th' mobs..." Applejack added.

"And I would NEVER, even if my LIFE would depend on it, would organize parties AGAINST someone!" Pinkie exclaimed "Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!"

Trixie just flared her nostrils, still glaring.

"I admit, I am a gossipy sort, and so are the aristocrats..." Rarity admitted "But I would NEVER even THINK of having them associate for such viscous activity as paying ONE, humble mare out. Heck, even THEY wouldn't even think about resorting to such a malicious thing on their own!"

"Which is why they needed YOU!" Trixie reminded her, successfully silencing the mare.

Twilight finally found her voice.

"Trixie, look, even though I am the apprentice of Princess Celestia, I would never ask her to treat you in such a way. And she wouldn't comply, either! Perhaps... You did simply caught her in the wrong time, like Alexei said..."

"Oh, so you KNOW that tall being!" Trixie grunted "PERFECT!"

"What?! Trixie, I... Aaargh!" Twilight sat down. They were at the limits of Ponyville, and she had ran out of breath...

The others stopped as well, but Trixie kept trotting, out of the town. Finally, Twilight sighed.

"Look, Trixie... If there's any way we could make it up to you, then please... Tell us..."

The showmare stopped.

The Mane 6 looked up, anxiously.

Minutes, like hours, passed in complete silence.

Finally, Trixie turned her head.

"Well, there is one way YOU could make up for it, Twilight Sparkle..." she said.

"How?" the mare asked, surprised.

Suddenly, the showmare, spun around, now face to face with the librarian.

"Twilight Sparkle!" she called out to her "I, Beatrix Lulamoon, challenge you to a Magical Duel of the highest level!"

The mares gasped. Twilight's eyes went wide...

"The... Highest level?"

Trixie nodded.

"You and I, Twilight Sparkle, shall compete in a battle of magic, on the field beside the end sidings of Ponyville's train yard, this afternoon." she went on "For one of us... It shall be the last!"

With that, she turned around, and trotted off...

"What th' hay was THA' all abou'?!" Applejack exclaimed.

Twilight didn't reply... She just stared in front of herself, eyes dilated with pupils dot-sized and shaking. Her mouth was slightly agape, and her face was very, very pale...

"Twilight?" Fluttershy asked upon noticing her friend's condition.

Rarity, who seemed to be in the same sort of trance, snapped out of it...

"Oh... My... HARMONIA!" she shrieked, sitting down onto the ground as well.

"Could somebody explain what's going on?" Rainbow Dash snapped, circling her friends.

"Trixie had just challenged Twilight to a Top Level Magic Duel." Rarity uttered.

"So?" Pinkie asked, confused.

"Only alicorns were allowed to compete in such battle, but it was banned, even for them, one thousand years ago..." the white pony spoke nervously.

"Why?" Dash asked.

"...Because it's a battle of life and death..."

The others jumped, looking at their friend.

Twilight had finally spoke up, although she looked like she was about to faint or vomit... Or both...

"WHAT?!" her friends gasped.

"A Top Level Magic Duel, or Alicorns' Challenge is a magical battle 'till death." the unicorn uttered.

"The opponents attack each other with all of their magic concentrated into one, vaporizing beam. The first one to loose his or her focus automatically dies, unless the other is able to retreat his or her magic in time... But that had never happened before..."

The others gasped, for the umpteenth time, and felt a knot forming in their stomachs as well...

"Well... What are you gonna do, Twi'?" Applejack asked, after a long pause.

"She's obviously NOT going to attend it!" Rarity replied instead of Twilight, indignantly "It's illegal, after all!"

"I have no choice." Twilight sighed "If I forfeit, Trixie wins by default. And, according to the rules of the Alicorns' Challenge, if she wins and I'm still alive, she has sword right over me..." she added, before gazing at the others "She could have me killed any time she wants to..."

"That's just... Insane!" Dash yelled "Is she nuts, or something?!"

"No, Dash, she's quite clever..." Rarity hissed "She must be fully aware of the rules, that's why she challenged Twilight! She has her in her web, the shifty little witch!"

The others stared at their friend in shock. They had never seen Rarity act so out of character.

"I don't think she's going for victory, girls..." Twilight sniffed, sounding close to crying.

The others turned their attention towards her, looking surprised.

"What do you mean, Twilight?" Fluttershy asked.

"Think about it, girls..." the unicorn sighed "She had lost her fame, her stage, her reputation, everything, and was hunted like a beast in the past year, partially because of us!"

The others sat down, their eyes growing wide with horror, as the pieces fell into place...

"She didn't challenge me to beat me..." their friend went on "If she does, then she'll kill, or will, at least, hold the life of one of the most magically strongest unicorns in all of Equestria in her hooves! But iff she loses..."

No... She couldn't go on... But she had to...

Gulping back her tears, she continued:

"Then I'll... Complete what she thought I... We... Wanted all along..."

Her friends stared, stunned with horror...

"Destroy her..."

To be continued...

Episode 15 - Rejects

REJECTS

...Afternoon came.

The dark clouds covering the skies above Ponyville and the area near it were cleaned up by the weather pegasi, but still, a certain taste of electricity remained in the air.

Tension, almost touchable, was apparent to anypony - or any engine - around.

A line of mares, followed by a small, purple dragon, left the town limits, heading towards the grassy field beside Ponyville Marshaling Yard's end sidings, located on the very spot the Other Railway entered their world, and entered their lives.

A knot was present in all of their stomachs, their legs were shaking, and their eyes constantly watering up, as they trotted down the dirt road, across the field, getting closer and closer to the plain of doom.

Trixie sat there, on the other side of the small area, a glare fixated on her face.

Yet, the mares couldn't feel hatred towards this one pony.

Her life, built of lies and deceit, crumbled in front of her eyes. Once respected and awed, she became a living shadow, shunned by her peers, and destroyed by hecklers and hooligans.

She had nothing left.

Friends and family long gone, fans and audience no more.

Fame and fortune slipping out of her hooves and her magic's grip like quicksilver.

She had nothing left.

She was as alive as joyous.

And she blamed them.

"Now I'm going to die..." Twilight thought, as she closed her eyes.

"Don't be so ruddy sure about that!" a voice replied in her head, making her eyes pop open in surprise.

Trixie was in front of her.

The knot tightened in her stomach.

The others sat down in a circle-sector shape further away, as she told them...

"Well... This is it..." she uttered. Trixie just nodded, and stood up.

The two walked up to each other, eyeing up one another, as the rules of the Alicorns' Challenge said so.

They then turned their backs to one another, and began to trot.

Fifty steps of the right front hoof was required.

5 steps.

Twilight shuddered, the urge to regurgitate rising in her stomach...

10 steps.

Her friends were shivering - not because of cold, but because of the pure fear that kept rushing through their body in great gushes.

20 steps.

Twilight had to swallow hard to stop her breakfast from returning... She was hair lengths from hyperventilation.

40 steps.

Trixie sighed, once more.

Yes. This is it.

50.

The two mares stopped, and spun around, their horns already flickering with magical charge.

Purple and blue light illuminated the area, as two force fields rose around the two mares - a precaution both of them had thought of.

Their fur and manes flared with magic, as their power manifested itself: Twilight, her body lit by magical fire that bleached her fur white and turned her crest and tail into flames, Trixie, her body whitened by the blinding light of the magic lightnings that coursed across her body, turning mane and tail into a spiky bundle of electric fire.

Magic overlapped their bodies, leaking out through their eyes - orange-toned white flames glowing in Twilight's eyes, blue-toned electricity sparkling in Trixie's.

The librarian and the showmare charged their horns - two balls of magic, one purple, enveloped in flames, baring a six-pointed star-shaped cutie mark that resembled Twilight's, and an indigo one, enveloped by electric arches, bearing a curving and straight, star-topped cutie mark that resembled Trixie's.

Simultaneously, their cutie marks disappeared from their flanks.

They stared at one another, a final glance at the enemy, before they bowed their heads forward, bringing the globes of magic into the same level.

Instantly, Trixie's magic shot out like and arrow, only to meet with Twilight's shield-like beam halfway between them.

The sound was deafening, akin to the cacophony of a burning forest and a violent thunderstorm, mixed with tones and noises not from this world.

The two mares steadied their selves, not loosing focus one bit, as their shields and the epicenter where their beams met burned away the grass. Twilight grit her teeth, already growing weary - never, in her life before, had she performed such immense output of raw magic. Beads of sweat appeared on her body, only to evaporate, and subsequently turn into plasma.

Trixie kept her mouth tightly shut, but behind her lips, she was snarling in effort.

For minutes, the two beams were even, the same length, and the same width. But as 20 minutes passed, Trixie's had suddenly grown thicker, and began to push Twilight's back.

The mares held their breath, and Spike's heart skipped a beat.

Twilight flinched, and gritted her teeth harder.

With little effort, she widened her own beam, pushing Trixie's back into the original, deadlock position...

Her friends gave a faint sigh of relief - the battle was far from over.

For a good ten minutes, the wider beams kept illuminating the area...

All of a sudden, Trixie's began to flicker.

The showmare's eyes widened.

Twilight's beam automatically began to push her's back.

The librarian's heart sank...

"No... Not like this..."

Trixie snarled, and clenched her muscles - her beam regained it's pace, and increased to twice it's size, catching Twilight by surprise, as she quickly reinforced her own with haste.

In return, the showmare increased her's as well.

Twilight couldn't help but to increase her own.

Trixie replied with another boost.

So did Twilight, taking up the pattern.

From then on, they continued - neither stopping or evening out the beams, as the buffer point commuted between them, going closer and closer to either mares with each turn.

Finally, they were brought to a draw: both beams having the diameter of their whole bodies, crests and tails grown as lengthy as those of the Princesses' - curtains of fire, and capes of electricity.

Their force fields had grown as thin as bubbles, their eyes completely white, bodies radiating and regathering their own magic.

Both snarling and struggling to stand steady, blinded by the light of the discharge.

The mares and the dragon not far stared upon them with wonder, fear long since replaced with awe.

Half an hour had passed.

Through the blinding light, Twilight could sense her opponent moving - Trixie slowly closed her eyes, and ceased her snarl.

"Oh no! She's giving in! NO! Don't! I cannot... I can't possibly..."

But then, she noticed that the mare's beam didn't waver.

"She isn't stopping... YES! She's gonna dodge to the side and... We could settle this without any of us..."

Trixie shut her eyes and mouth.

Only to suddenly reopen it, now having an even more fierce snarl and a wider glare. Her beam grew to twice it's size, her force field growing stronger...

Twilight flinched, as the showmare's beam quickly gained upon her.

With a burst of purple light, her own force field disappeared, and her beam grew wider, matching that of Trixie's once more.

Through her concentration, she failed to take notice of the metallic taste in her mouth - she grit her teeth so hard that blood was drawn from her gums.

Cautiously, she began to apply more power to her magic, ready to draw it back in case Trixie's began to wither.

As the collision point drew closer and closer to Trixie, the librarian began to think...

"Where did she hold all that power? Last time we've seen her, she was all words and little magic. How did she, a showmare magician, grew into an adversary as strong as I am? Is she using some old, archaic technique? Is she drawing power from the world around us? Is she holding the power of some ancient god?"

Finally, she had another thought...

"Is she also the Element of Magic? The rightful bearer, even?"

"I have changed since the last time we've met, Twilight Sparkle..."

WAS SHE TALKING TO HER TELEPATHICALLY?! ALONG WITH THAT MUCH OUTPUT?!

"I am truly Great and Powerful now..." Trixie's voice announced, chiming like a silver bell "And I shall finish this battle as such..."

Trixie's force field finally dissipated into thin air - simultaneously, her beam grew twice as wide as it already was, burning a trench into the ground between the two mares.

Trough her struggle, Twilight's eyes widened. The former showmare's beam was now enveloping her own, slowly but surely deteriorating it...

Her words rang in her ears, painfully.

"YOU, Twilight Sparkle, are the personal student of Princess Celestia herself, and above that, The Element of Magic."

Trixie was no greater than her - she had an unfair advantage from the very beginning...

It was the showmare's lies which brought her world down, but it was her and her friends' actions that made her life a misery...

They had destroyed her, emotionally and reputation-wise, nullifying her life's effort.

Unintentionally, of course, but still, they made her become no more than a shadow, and empty mare with no past or future, merely lingering in the present.

It didn't mattered to her if she had won, OR lost - she simply wanted to fight what had ended her career, her fame, her everything. To prove herself a worthy adversary of what appeared to be fate itself in her eyes.

She had nothing to loose or gain...

"But I do!"

Twilight's beam stopped deteriorating, right in front of her horn.

"My friends... My family... Diesel... Ponyville... The Princesses... All of Equestria!"

Slowly, her magic began to regain it's force, inching forwards slowly, but steadily.

"The Princesses count on me! My friends need me! Equestria needs the Elements of Harmony!"

Faster and faster, her beam regained it's length and width, eventually growing to a size equivalent of Trixie's...

"And beyond Equestria, the World itself needs me! An Element of Defiance! One Element of Hatred... Needs it's counter!"

Slowly, the purple beam of magic began to consume the indigo one.

Trixie didn't flinch, but her hair slowly grew back into it's original size, her beam not changing one bit.

"Applejack... Rainbow Dash... Rarity... Pinkie Pie... Fluttershy..."

Her beam slowly gained more colors - the colors of the rainbow...

Her friends sat, motionless, astonished by the sight.

"Spike... Shining Armor... Cadence... Princess Celestia... Princess Luna... Mom, dad..."

Slowly, her beam moved across the draw point, now gaining on Trixie...

"Cheerilee... Big Macintosh... Zecora... Gilda... Dr. Whooves... Derpy... Cloud Chaser and Flitter..."

Her entire body was lit with white light, as her beam slowly turned into a pure white ray...

"Diesel... Derek... Spamcan... Old Stuck-Up... Bowler... Steamie... 'Arry and Bert... Pip and Emma... BoZo... Cromwell... The Breakfather... Mr. Alexei..."

Trixie glared, motionlessly, as the beam suppressed her own... Slowly, the white light began to fade from her eyes...

"Ponyville and Canterlot and ALL OF EQUESTRIA! ALL OF THE WORLD! ALL THAT EXISTS, BREATHS, THINKS AND FEELS! I GOT TOO MUCH TO LOOSE!"

Trough her now raging power, she suddenly sensed Trixie's magic disappearing altogether.

With haste, she tried to retreat her own force, but it was too late - she had no control of her beam any more.

The Alicorns' Challenge now fully in place, she cannot retreat her power...

Trough the blinding light, she saw Trixie once more - her eyes in a soft, deep glare, her soul opened up to her as she was using Fluttershy's stare.

No envy.

No regret.

No hatred.

No sorrow.

Just emptiness...

And pure magic...

"I AM Great and Powerful, and I shall finish this battle as such!"

"Guys! GUYS!" the tank engine cried, rushing into the yard.

"Steamie, you're late!" Dr. Whooves scolded him "The meeting had already began!"

"Forget the meeting!" Steamie exclaimed "You gotta come with me!"

"Why?" Diesel asked, nonchalantly.

"Twilight and Trixie are having a Magic Duel!"

Diesel's eyes widened.

"So?" Bowler asked "What's up with that?"

The sound and shock wave of a magical explosion, carrying the force of an erupting volcano, hit the yard, shaking the engines down to the core of their motors.

"FfffffffffffffffffffFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCK!" Diesel cursed, her engine roaring to life, as the Doctor and Derpy jumped into his cab - Gilda doing the same with CoBo's, as she woke from her shock...

The Class 08 shot off, thundering towards the source of the explosion, following Steamie, with the others roaring behind them.

For ten minutes straight, the minds of the mares and the dragon was overtaken by void... Then, slowly, reality seeped back into them, along with the wind that was knocked out their lungs.

Eventually, their sight came back as well...

The first thing they noticed - aside from still being alive - was their friend, Twilight.

Charred and dusty, her mane was a mess, but she was still standing - quite alive as well...

So, their first reaction back on the solid ground was heartfelt ovation - Twilight had won! Their friend had survived!

Unable to contain their selves, they stood up, and, still shaking a bit, began to rush towards the mare.

They didn't took notice of the burned and possibly forever infertile ground... Or the lack of any sound in the area, aside from the explosion's echo and their own voice, slowly finding words to express their joy...

But as they came close to Twilight, something, in the very back of their minds, was lit with blaring red.

Twilight's face was twisted into a desperate, utter expression of pure horror, with tears dwelling in her eyes, her body beginning to shudder violently...

Her friends slowed down, smiles disappearing one by one, as the drew closer to her, finally taking notice of the changed environment, and the time that passed.

Finally up close, they saw their friend break down into tears, shrieking in emotional pain, as she collapsed to the ground...

Their joy vanished without a trace - confusion, worry and fear took it's place...

They stopped a mere 5 steps from their friend - a tenth of the amount which it all began with...

Twilight sobbed before them - a broken mare, crushed under her own emotions...

Finally, her assistant approached her, not yet daring to lay his clawed hand on her back...

"Twilight...?" he asked, mustering up all the stamina he had.

Shaking and wheezing, the more slowly raised her head, turning it towards her friends.

...Who could only gape in horror...

Twilight's eyes were bloodshot by the heavy tears that had been rushing down her cheeks the very moment her and Trixie's beams met.

Her mane and tail was a tangled, charred mess, and burn marks covered her body like scars...

The base of her horn was lightly bleeding, the skin punctured by the incredible output of magic - her horn ached and her forehead pounded.

But all pain, all agony, all the physical consequences of her battle were diminished into nothing by the amount of emotional anguish that writhed trough her body, burning her heart.

She couldn't stand the gaze of her friends anymore, so she let her head fall onto the ground, to Hell with the pain in her jaw...

As her cries continued, the gaze of the others slowly parted with her body, and began to follow the charred trench dug and burned out by the beams - all the way, terror swelled in their hearts like a bubble in a pond of tar.

Finally, their gazes landed on the other end of the field, at the other end of the trench, in a crater where the explosion took place...

And in the bottom of the small pit laid a heap of ash and dust, cold in the heat of the crater around it.

Once again, the air was knocked out of the mares and the dragon, as their eyes dilated painfully, pupils shrinking into nothingness, their face contorting with agonizing horror and dismay.

Their mind ached, as it processed the sight that their burning eyes took in.

The sight of a unicorn's horn, broken at it's base and ashen gray, laying on top of the pile of dust...

They didn't even heard Twilight's bawl:

"SWEET CELESTIA, WHAT HAVE I DONE?!"

The convoy of engines rocketed down the line at break-neck speed, led by a huffing and puffing tank engine.

Tension and sorrow hung in the air, as the black shunter at the front kept cursing like the Devil.

"FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK, we're LATE!"

There ponies and the dragon had nothing to see... Hear... Think... Or feel...

Just emptiness...

As they stared upon the dismal remains of what was once the Great and Powerful Trixie - truly powerful, and truly, truly great...

As tears crept into their eyes silently, they could only stare at the wreckage that surrounded them.

Weak and sickened as he was, Spike tried to comfort his caretaker, his step-sister, his friend since birth - but all his words, feeble and empty, fell onto deaf ears, as he gently stroked the mare's back, unsure of what to say...

In their grief, none of the took notice of the sun and the moon, both of which celestial bodies stopped on their course, one half set, the other half risen.

They didn't notice the alicorns, flying down from Canterlot at a terrifying speed, nor the slender figure materializing near them.

The Princesses gazed upon the wreckage with a mixture of dread and sorrow - there hasn't been one Alicorns' Challenge held in a millennia, but all the horrors, all the blood and torture, all of it came back to them that moment...

"We're late..." the elder uttered, staring at her sobbing apprentice...

"Too late..." her younger sister agreed, looking at the pile of dust that was once a unicorn.

Alexei remained speechless.

If what he sensed just minutes before was true...

Then all was lost...

Without all the elements, the world was doomed to face the wrath of the old gods, defenseless as a newborn...

He fell to his knees, oblong eyes widened in terror, as tears dwelled up in them, crystal clear drops that didn't roll down his cheeks.

None of them noticed the distinct hiss in the background, the sound of metallic doors opening and closing, and the sound of hooves, paws and talons on the dead grass...

The Princesses trotted up to the group, trying their best to comfort them, laying down beside the huddled up ponies and dragon, and embracing them with their wings the best they could...

The row of engines stared at the dismal sight with utter sorrow - they were too late. The damage was done.

They failed.

Only one person refrained from falling into sadness:

The griffon made her way to the crater, her objective dead ahead - a disheartened mare and stallion followed her...

She crouched down beside the pile of dust, and, gently as she could, she picked up the horn with her talons...

It had broken off at it's very base, where the bone met the skull, the nerves, albeit fried, still within it.

She examined the horn thoroughly, before carefully putting it down into it's place.

Standing up, her determined motions were noticed by the engines, who now stared at her with confusion and aghast.

She walked up the grieving group, and stared at them for a long time - ponies she knew, reduced to a bundle of anguish and sorrow, edged by two disturbed and uncertain alicorns, with destroyed outer god kneeling beside them, his tall stature pointing into the air like a dead tree.

She then took a deep breath, and, with a hoarse voice, spoke straight to the Princesses.

"So... Are we going to revive her, or not?"

Upon the utterance of the word 'revive', they all ceased to grieve, and stared at the griffon as if she was a saint gaining her glory - or as if she had completely lost her mind...

"...Revive?" Celestia uttered, and simultaneously, Alexei's dampened eyes cleared out.

"I admit, I flopped at most classes in high school..." Gilda admitted "...STILL got my graduation, just to get it straight!" she added, quickly "But the only thing I actually payed attention at was sorcery class, especially that one issue about revival spells and techniques..."

She looked around.

Everybody was paying attention.

Good.

"We have everything that we need." she announced "The two Princesses. The cause of the death."

Twilight flinched.

"Air filled with raw magic." she added, pointing out the taste of electricity, ozone and tension in the air.

"An alien god." she nodded towards Alexei here.

"And a griffon for the final touch!" she added, wiggling her fingers on her right talon.

Shaking slightly, the two alicorns and the tall being stood up.

"OK..." he muttered, before clearing his throat "How do we do this?"

In response, Gilda turned to the lavender alicorn.

"Still got some juice, Sparkle?"

Staggering to a stand, Twilight mustered up some magic to her aching horn. It burned and it was weak, but it was there.

"That'll do." the griffon nodded "And I believe you are fully charged..." she said, looking at the deities present. They nodded as one.

"All right." she announced, clapping her talons together "We got exactly... When did the battle ended?"

Pinkie checked her watch.

"Roughly twenty-five minutes ago."

"Hoo-kay, so we got thirty-five minutes to bring this filly back to life!" she explained "HOP TOO, EVERYPONY!"

The others stared at her, bemused.

"Someone had just died..." Dr. Whooves reminded her.

"Yeah, and she'll stay like that if we don't haul ass and get this over with. SO MOVE IT, or we're losing her!"

Instantly, everybody sprung to action. The too alicorns, Alexei, and Twilight positioned themselves around the circle of the battlefield in a double Thales theorem format, with Twilight standing closes to Trixie's remains...

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Keep it together, girl!" Gilda called out to her, now standing between the mare and the dust "You can do this!"

Swallowing her tears, Twilight nodded, and the procedure began.

First, she charged whatever magic she could muster from her body into her horn - adding a bit of her own life-force as well, just a bit, as Gilda told her.

Then, a beam, much smaller, but no different from the one she used minutes ago, began to scan the pile in front of her, before settling on the horn. She closed her eyes, and concentrated...

Slowly, waves of potent magic began to pulse through her beam, feeding itself into the horn, which began to glow, and eventually lifted itself from the dust, levitating in mid air.

"Your turn, your majesties!" Gilda called out to the sisters, who charged their horns as well, and shot two, thicker beams of magic at the dust itself, nursing it with raw power only the sun and the moon could provide.

"Now, Mr. Alexei!" the griffon called out to the figure, who's eyes lit up with white, material light, as a steady, oscillating beam shot out from his raised hands, enveloping the horn in a blinding light, making it look like nothing but a black silhouette.

Twilight winced, and her legs shook. Gilda was quick to notice this...

They had to hurry up.

Slowly, the horn itself turned white, disappearing in the glow that surrounded it, as the dust became coated with blue arches of electricity.

"C'mon... Just a little more..."

The Element of Magic was exhausted. Under one hour, she was pushed to her limits in terms of strength, stamina, magic and emotions, all of which's weight now came crushing down onto her.

The arches on the dust slowly reached out to the horn, changing the blinding light, first into silver, then, into blue.

"Now!" Gilda thought, as she reached out to the horn, grabbing it by it's tip, and making it spin around in mid air.

Suddenly, Twilight's beam dissipated, and she collapsed to the ground, wheezing.

It didn't mattered anymore.

The Princesses and the foreign god ceased their magic as well, as they stared, taken aback, at the sight in front of them...

The former unicorn's horn spun in all directions, eventually forming a ball of light, which sucked up the dust beneath it, turning into an even bigger ball of magic electricity.

It rose, higher and higher into the air...

Ponies, engines, dragon, griffon and humanoid stared at the phenomenon with astonishment...

Suddenly, the ball imploded, only to soundlessly explode, bringing along the sound of thunder, and a lighting bolt that hit the ground.

Gilda smirked.

From the spinning orb came the spinning silhouette of a mare, which grew thicker and more defined with each second...

Tension was touchable in the air, as ponies, engines, and other beings stared, coated in sweat, waiting for the outcome.

And in the relapsing twilight, a newborn foal's first cry echoed...

Slowly and gently, the blue mare lowered to the ground, eyes and mouth shut with an angelic, peaceful look on her face - nothing left from the desperate listlessness that emanated from it once...

She landed on her hooves, as graceful as a snowflake, as the final rays of magic that enveloped her left her body.

She gently leaned out as the trees, landing softly on the regrown, lush green grass...

The others (who could), approached her, to astonished and scared to wake her.

It wasn't necessary.

Gently as foal's, her eyes crept open, not yet focusing, ash her lungs took in the first breath of air..

Slowly, she lifted her head, and blinked, her eyes getting used to the lights of dusk, as if she had never used them before - which was technically true...

Finally, they began to focus, as she looked around - mares, of all kinds and sized, surrounded her. Behind them, in the distance, parked a row of locomotives, too stunned to react.

A griffon and a tall, slender figure stood near by, but closest was a lavender mare, charred and too exhausted to notice her return...

Trixie knew this mare...

"Could it be...?" she whispered.

Shaking her head gently, she stood up, staggering like a newborn, before regaining the balance she once had.

Shaking her head once more, she looked around, gazing at the people that surrounded her, staring at her like how her beloved audience once did.

She saw smiles creeping onto their faces, and she felt like smiling too - then, she looked at her own body, and her smile faded.

No matter which side she looked at, she couldn't find her cutie mark.

Come to think of it, she couldn't even remember her cutie mark!

Twilight's eyes opened as she heard her first sobs, and she was the first to arrive to her, as she fell to the ground, crying...

The mare's body writhed with each cry, as she burred her face between her hooves, hiding it under her thick crest.

The others came to the mare's aid as well, but couldn't figure out the reason behind her cries.

Spike, perhaps because of his height, was the first to notice.

"Girls! Her cutie mark!" he gasped "It's gone!"

The directions given, the others searched that very spot of her body, and followed the baby dragon in his gasp, as they realized he was saying the truth:

Trixie wasn't simply reanimated, she was reborn, with the mind, skills, mentality and memories of the mare she once was, but alas, he flank was now bare, the symbol of her talent gone, and with it, her talent as well...

A new wave of horror and disturbia crashed through the group, as they tried, in vain, to propitiate her.

Gilda sighed.

"Damn it! I knew I forgot about something!" she muttered, facetaloning "This sort of revival spell is literally a "rebirth" spell! They used in the middle ages when someone was sentenced to death, but his or her services prior to the sentence made her worthy of living, even though the sentence was irreversible. It was meant to give the condemned a new leaf!"

"Well, you could have mentioned that earlier!" Alexei grunted.

"Get off my back!" the griffon snapped "We were in a rush, and this was the first thing that came to my mind! Be glad that I even thought of a solution, instead of breaking down into tears, like the lot of ya!"

The figure didn't reply, as the avian sniffed:

"B'sides, this was probably the only one that would actually work, given the time that has passed from the moment of her death!"

"Okay, okay!" the tall being replied "I'm never said I wasn't grateful!"

"Good." Gilda replied sharply, heading back to her engine.

"Trixie..." Twilight began, placing a hoof on the mare's back, only to pull it back instantly, as she felt her tense up, her muscles clenching.

She heard a mutter coming from beneath the silvery crest.

"Trixie..." the librarian tried again, only to have her hoof swatted away.

"I said DON'T TOUCH ME!" the blue mare yelled, bucking against Twilight's body. The kick hit the librarian right in the stomach, hurdling her backwards onto the grass.

The ponies gasped, and retreated with haste, as the former showmare struggled to a stand, shooting a burning glare at the equines and dragon surrounding her.

One by one, they backed away, reversing further and further from the madmare - especially when her horn sparkled up with that familiar, blue electricity.

At an alarming rate, Trixie charged up her horn, then her body, her fur once again turning white, and her mane and tail became the same curtain of lightning it was before, burning brighter than a star, as blinding as an electric fire.

Her hooves left the ground, as the force behind her magic was strong enough to levitate her above the ground - rising higher and higher, as her body was enveloped in indigo light.

Swallowing air into her burning lungs, Twilight managed to lift her head - the blue mare's kick was probably strong enough to pierce her weakened body.

Looking up, her eyes grew wide with wonder and shock, as she saw the reborn mare at her prime once more - crest and tail as long as an alicorn's, burning with a blinding light her own flames weren't able to produce, limbs and torso elongated to the point where the mare seemed to resemble Princess Cadence - or, at least, an over-the-top, horrific parody.

A blade of light, as long as Twilight's own body, arose from the horn of the unicorn, now serving as a hilt.

Watching from afar, the Princesses themselves could have sworn they saw wings, composed of the blinding fire of her hair, sprout from Trixie's back.

Her glaring eyes became pure white, power overlapping her sockets, as she snarled at the world itself.

Around her, the air seemed to freeze - the Royal Sister, shocked down to their cores, were secretly amazed by this incredible feat of magic - if Gilda's incantation was performed well, Trixie shouldn't have had the magical output of a newborn foal - yet here she was, blinding and overshadowing the Princesses of the Sun and Moon themselves.

The engines, nescient about the ways and works of magic, could only stare, stunned and amazed.

The time lord and his assistant were more practical than the rest - they retreated to a safe distance, and observed the anomaly from there.

The mares could only gape in flummox, as the pony who's death and revival was done before their very eyes, was now at her prime once more, a magical powerhouse, truly fitting for the title: 'Great and Powerful'.

The dragonling rushed to his step-sister, trying to get them away from the overpowered mare glaring down at her, but the librarian couldn't move - her eyes were fixated on the raging magician.

Suddenly, a sigh came to Trixie's lips:

"Oh, what's the use..."

In a flash, she powered down, her thunderous magic retreating into her, as the blade of her horn faded, and her mane, tail and fur returned to it's original state... She lowered to the ground, gently as she did after her recreation, and let her head drop, her mane covering her eyes - hiding the tears that dwelled up once more.

Mares approached her, as she trotted, but she would react to none of them. Eventually, they stopped trying, and let her trot, as they stared after her in sorrow.

Twilight made the last attempt:

"Trixie, please... Let us help you... I'm sure we could--..."

"I don't need your help anymore..." Trixie interrupted her, shooting her a tearful glare above her shoulders. She then turned her gaze forward, not even sure of where she was heading - or where will she go.

She whispered to herself, loud enough for the lavender mare to hear:

"I don't need your friendship anymore..."

"Trixie, if there's anything we can do..." Princess Celestia began. She knew very well, she could sense that the showmare her subjects knew was no more...

Before them trotted a mare, more broken than ever before - confiscated of a life...

Yet, she still tried, in a last-ditched attempt, to help her subject - stray as she was, she didn't deserved to be alone.

So she called out:

"Trixie!"

"Oh, for God's sake, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

A deep, harsh voice crackled through the air like distant thunder. The eyes of the beings present widened upon hearing such offence.

The Princesses themselves took aback, hearing the vulgar order of a familiar voice.

Looking up for the first time, the mares now saw that locomotives they had worked with have long since arrived - how much they had seen, they didn't know...

Looking up, Trixie saw that that's exactly where she was heading - to the end sidings, towards one green machine in particular.

A familiar, black box of an engine right next to the green one sniffed - she was certain that he was the one who told the Princess off.

Twilight couldn't believe her ears.

Sure, she had heard the engines speak vulgarities to authority figures, but this?

Celestia was the railway's chairmare, for crying out loud!

"Diesel, what are you doing!?"

"Shut the Bloody Hell up, Sparkle! You had done enough damage today!"

"D-Damage?" the unicorn stuttered "Wh-What did I do?"

"What did you do?" Stuck-Up growled "You had completely DESTROYED her, that's what!"

"D-Destroyed?" the mare stammered "But... Why... How?!"

"Don't be more moronic than you already are!" the jet black shunter hissed "In ONE DAMN HOUR, you had completely destroyed a mare's life!"

"Eh... Wha... What th' bloomin' hay do ya mean?" Applejack snapped "Twilight had jus' brough' back Trixie from death!"

"She brought her body, all right!" Bowler retorted "But not her life!"

Twilight didn't understood...

She glanced the mare - the mare she had unintentionally humiliated... Who's life she had unintentionally ruined... Who's last hope she had unintentionally crushed... Whom she had defeated... Killed... And brought back to life, without as much as a...

She understood.

"No... No, I didn't..." she uttered, eyes growing wide.

"Yes... YES, YOU DID!" Diesel roared.

"We may be newbies in terms of magic..." Derek sniffed "But even WE know that a grown mare is nothing without her cutie mark - nothing without her talent!"

"And yet, you brought her back, even though it was clearly her final fight!" Diesel bellowed "She didn't wanted anything else from life - she didn't wanted anymore from life! But you pulled her back, into this nightmare!"

"But it was Gilda's--!"

"Gilda merely offered the option!" CoBo grunted "You could have rejected it, and let her die in peace and honor, forgotten as she was!"

"But you brought her back!" Stuck-Up added with a venomous tone "Thus denying her from greater glory... Now, she's nothing, thanks to you!"

Twilight's eyes ached from the amount of tears they had to bare in one day... But that didn't stopped them from coming, once more...

"Alright, THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH, DIESEL!" Rarity yelled, trying to protect her friend - sadly, she couldn't pretend true anger very well, which the engines were quick to notice.

"An' abou' YOU!" Spamcan growled "Wha' sorry sor' o' frien's ARE YA?!"

The mares were dumbfounded.

"Whut... Whatever do ya mean?" Applejack asked, utterly confused.

"Ya le' yer own frien' compe'e i' a ba'le o' loife an' death!" 'Arry snapped "Ar' ya freakin' MAD?!"

"But... But it was an..." Dash began.

"An "Alicorns' Challenge", yeah, yeah!" Bert grunted "Whi's was banne' a THOUSAN' BLU'DY YEA'S AGO!"

"But the magical ties--...!" Rarity tried.

"The magical ties only apply if the battle had actively begun! GET YOUR FACTS RIGHT!" the black Class 08 yelled.

"But... You can't just deny an Alicorn's Challenge!" Twilight protested "The sword right--...!"

"Capital punishment was BANNED in the MIDDLE AGES!" snapped Bowler "Which means every rule, right and procedure affiliated with it had to go!"

"Not only what you did was COMPLETELY ILLEGAL...!" Diesel growled "...You also had NO BLOODY REASON to do it!"

"All it would have took is a little research for a loophole - or a little common sense, and ALL OF THIS COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED!" CoBo put in.

"YOU are her friends!" Derek continued "HOW could you just let her go through all of this without the slightest bit of protest?! Your friend's LIFE was at sake, for crying out loud!"

The mares lowered their heads in sorrow...

The engines were right...

How could they let their friend, their own friend, engage in a lethal fight, following the rules of a millenniums-old challenge?!

The fact that it was banned only made it worse.

They let their friend endanger her own life, only to have her break the highest and most basic Equestrian law, loose her innocence, end the life of another pony, and utterly destroy a mare's life!

"She... She started it..." Rainbow claimed, in a weak attempt.

"SO WHAT?!" BoZo shouted "You could have denied it in the first place! But NO! Instead of chaffily offering her your friendship, or any measly sort of moral support you usually do, you just went along her way, EVEN WHEN IT WAS CRYSTAL CLEAR that she's suicidal!"

"So, to sum it up..." Diesel began "...Not only have you practically let your friend toy with her own life, not only have you let her break primal laws and commit murder, not only have you assisted in one's suicide, you had also, intentionally or unintentionally, had your friends, family, colleagues and whatever actively discriminate, humiliate and assault ONE, lone pony, destroying her socially, emotionally, and all her properties along with it, making her life a complete misery! And to top it off, you then had her brought back to life, forcing her to live without any reason or purpose, WHATSOEVER, thus, breaking your OWN rule of "Live and let it Die"! THIS supposed to be the Equestrian way of doing things? Social-emotional disorder and nonsensical anarchy?!"

So close to tears, the Princesses psyched themselves up - some offenses cannot go unpunished.

"That is enough!" Celestia called out "Diesel, you have NO RIGHT to judge these mares and their actions! You yourself, AND your colleagues, have not helped the situation, whatsoever!"

"NEITHER DID WE WORSEN IT!" Bowler yelled, surprising even his peers "A mare, her life destroyed by adversaries beyond her control, turns to you, her last bastion of hope in a ruined life, for aid - help, advice, comfort, anything! What do you do? YELL INTO HER FACE, MOCK HER, AND THREATEN HER THAT YOU'LL SEND HER TO THE SUN! WHAT SORT OF CRUEL, SICK BASTARD ARE YOU?!"

He huffed.

"Seems like those rumors about Tyrant Trollestia were true..."

The Princess of the Day lowered her head.

This hurt.

The cruel, twisted rumors, either baseless or based on misconception. They hurt her emotions. They hurt her feelings.

They took all of her motivation and courage, crushed whatever ego she allowed herself to have, and left her in the dust, chewed and spit out countless times...

Now, she really struggled to hold her tears...

Luna sighed, saddened as well...

She was there when they had told the mare off - she just came to them in the wrong time!

They were angry at their own selves, for failing an argument against Alexei...

Where they so blinded by petty anger to not notice the broken mare? Did they honestly had to drive down their ire on her?

She had taken her fair share in the insulting, after she realized, who the mare before them was...

She lowered her head as well.

She had been wrong - so wrong.

They were the last hope of a hunted, humiliated pony - the Princesses themselves, and ideal situation that only happened once in a lifetime -, and they threw her into the mud.

Alexei said nothing.

He had been there.

He had seen it all.

Trixie couldn't believe what was happening around her.

The engines, machines from a world far, far away, stood up for her - or scolding the mares and the Princesses themselves for her.

She looked up.

The one engine, the large, long green one with the yellow front and grey face, now looked at her apologetically - why? -, and... Opened the door on his side...

Allowing her to enter his cab...

She proceeded, following his unspoken offer - or order.

"Wait... What are you doing?!" Twilight muttered.

"We're taking her with us." Diesel growled.

"But... But why?" Fluttershy asked.

"She had suffered enough from YOU!" Bowler replied, saying the last word as if it was a wretched curse "So we're taking her somewhere where she could rest, and sleep off all this madness..."

"But... I don't get it!" Twilight cried, desperately.

"Of course you don't..." Old Stuck-Up muttered "NONE of you do, as you're either too naive, too stupid or too self-absorbed to realize ONE thing!"

"...What?" the mares asked.

"That you, and by that, I mean, the lot of you, US, and Trixie, have ONE thing in common..."

"Which is...?" Rainbow asked.

"We're ALL outcasts!" the Breakfather declared, making the equines gasp.

"...Ah-Outcasts?" Rarity stammered "Whatever makes you think that?"

"Don't be more ignorant than you usually are!" Cromwell hissed "You're all outcasts in your own rights, AND DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO DENY IT!"

"Let's take YOU, Rarity, for first example!" Diesel muttered viciously "You're one of the classic examples of "too high for her own class". Even if you manage to find a decent balance between work and social interaction, you fail to realize the awkwardness that surrounds you!"

"Whu-Whatever do you mean?" the mare gasped.

"Don't be daft." the shunter sneered "You ALWAYS try to bring the so-called "high class" and "sophistication" of the big cities to this humble town, once again, FAILING to notice the darkness, filth and corruption that truly lies within these settlements you prefer..."

The mare couldn't reply - she didn't know what to say.

"Yeah..." the engine smirked, wickedly "I'm talking about that snobbish, egoistic naivety you have, which blinds you from seeing the truth!"

"I tried to teach you about the true, sordid nature the upperclass." Stuck-Up added "Nothing but infidelity, petty vengeance, lies, grime and greed. With your experience of THAT side, you'll be washed out into the back-allies within a day."

"Times have changed." Bowler agreed "You got to be TOUGH to stay on the saddle of pageantry. The neu high class is less forgiving and solidary under all the gold and sugarcoat than what you would ever expect. Still, awkward and corrupt as they are, you want THEIR style to be dominant in this humble town. Another member of the SICK society, I see!"

Slowly, Rarity lowered her head in defeat, unable to hold back her own tears anymore. Quiet sobs escaped her, and the diesels continued their list, mercilessly...

"Then there's Applejack!" Diesel went on, enjoying the sight of the mare's head perking up, eyes widening in uncertain fear.

His black, metallic heart became filled with a cold delight, as the routine seeped back into his oily veins...

"Like Rarity, you also try to balance work and play, but you're not as skillful as she is..." the shunter grinned "You bury yourself in work, even if it's unnecessary, just to keep the rhythm going. And so, you neglect your friends, though they don't mind - they had gotten used to your irresponsibility as a friend!"

Applejack gasped, unable to utter a word, her mind thorn between sorrow, confusion and rightful anger.

"Gran'ed, ya wo'k mo', an' yer job is fa' mo' ha'de' in a way..." Smamcan admitted "Bu' tha' doesn' chan'es th' fact tha' ya rathe' stick to yer farm tha' yer own friends!"

"And it's not even about family!" the black engine put in "It's all about doing more work! It's not like it leaves you more free time the day after, or the month after, or whatever!"

"Ya jus' AVOI' yer own frien's fo' wo'k!" Spamcan grunted "B'cause, WHY NOT?! Yer frien's ar'n' produc'ive, anyway! Dey're jus' a bur'en in yer wo'k, ar'n' dey?!"

Slowly, the applefarmer lowered her head as well, hiding her tear-coated face under her hat...

Diesel's smirk grew wider - it had been a long time since he could enjoy what he was the best at - deviousness.

Slowly, in a comfortably unpleasant way, the old tricks and turns, the old schemes and plots, all the experience, all the mannerism and spoils of his half-hearted work returned.

It was like popping his nonexistent fingers after a long time of neglect - they crackled, but the "sound" didn't bother him - all he could feel is slick, yet gluey, proficient hands regaining their praxis, and at long last, putting his own, most greatest and prominent talent into use:

his own, dark nature.

"And what about you, Rainbow Dash?" he continued with an oily voice, his engine beginning to smoothly purr without him even noticing.

The mare looked up, eyes dilated in fear - in fear of being unveiled, unmasked, having her errors and exploits revealed to the watchful eye of the great big world.

"The Element of Loyalty to you claim to be..." Stuck-Up smirked, words rolling off his tongue like sweet poetry, as his tone sharpened "...And yet, you procrastinate friends for work, work for training, training for sloth!"

"Yeah, ya 'av' th' 'ardes' wo'k..." 'Arry chuckled.

"Livin' wi'hou' a backbone t' bac' u' yer wo'ds!" Bert chortled "Har'es' job in 'e wo'ld, ey, Rainbo'?"

"Hmmh..." Diesel sneered "Work comes before fun for the lot of ya, but for YOU, idling away is primal..."

"Ya nevah notice when yer frien's need ya." 'Arry agreed.

"Th' same way ya nevah notice when ya miss th' star'in' gun." Bert put in, trying to be artistic "Toime flies by, an' yer life thunders pass ya, an' wha' hav' ya accomplished? Ya staye' aloive, a mare livin' in her dreams!"

The pegasus lowered to the ground, and had to grit her teeth to stop herself from shrieking into the dimmed sky, tears rolling down her cheeks in a most painful manner - in guilt.

Diesel's grin grew even wider, and the other engines began to join him as well.

He felt absolutely delighted - so much hope and joy, so much chaffy happiness and unnecessary lustrum, so many things, good things he never had the chance, or the liking to enjoy, brought into his face and used in excess, without as much as a thought of care about HIS ideals and likings - he had to tolerate this for soooo long!

Now, all this fluffy, sugary, cutesy-poo ambiance and setup collapsed and withered before his eyes, finally revealing it's true, self-deceiving, hollow self to wide, open world.

He was in Nirvana!

"Oh, and don't think we had forgotten about you, Fluttershy!" he said, his voice positively evil. The cream colored mare squirmed, trying to make herself look smaller - sadly, that didn't took away her ability to hear.

"What is there that could be said about you?"

The mare lifted her head in surprise, seeing her own engine, the weedy Class 17 smile at her.

She also saw that very, comforting smile turn into a wicked grin of malice.

"Actually..." Derek went on, using an awfully smooth tone "What is there that couldn't be said about you? You're a pegasus that dares NOT to fly. You live in a cottage, surrounded by animals of all shape an size, all race and kind - but with only a couple of equine friends that also had to be magically linked to you to even meet them in the first place!"

"Goo' on', Dere'!" Spamcan called out.

"Nice, a very good start, Derek..." Diesel smiled "But, with all honesty, you've failed to point out the most CRUCIAL problems with the picture!" he added, with a nasty smirk.

"Really?" Derek asked, pretending surprise "Like what?"

"Like the fact that she lives on the EDGE of the town, alone in a cottage with an ARMADA of animals, her pet is a dominant male rabbit who literally seems to take control over her life at times, while she's too shy to even breath near stallions..."

"Ah, I see..." Derek replied, momentarily reverting into his original self "Oh my, that DOES bring some icky ideas to your mind..."

"Icky indeed..." the shunter grinned.

He didn't even NEED to see the mare's face to tell it was burning red with shame and tears.

For the shortest moment, he did felt some sort of resentment towards his own self, but that was quickly brushed away by the sheer pleasure coming from hurting someone else - not necessarily weaker, though. The harder it is to catch the prey, the more it's worth.

But for him, the mere idea of hurting someone living in his or her own bubble, hiding behind his or her own wall of lies, in his or her own world built of deceit, then bringing these delusions down to make another face the world in all of it's stark reality - it was pure bliss.

Bliss and Heavens, gorgeosity and gorgeousness made metal, cold and raw.

But even when sitting atop his own smoggy clouds of dark delight, he didn't lost sight of his target...

Especially now, given the fact that the next one ALWAYS made him see red, deep down... ALWAYS.

"YOU!" he roared, making everyone in his vicinity jump in surprise.

The ponies looked around, trying to find just who he was directing his bash at now...

Didn't took them long to find out...

She shrunk under his glare, barely even daring to take deeper breaths, as the overwhelming feeling of terror overtook her mind...

"YOU are nothing more than a nuisance! Not simply an eccentric or an outcast, NO. You're FAR beyond any point of social redemption, my absolute opposite of "friend"! I said this before when I disabused Steamie, but now, I shall correct myself, as you're more fitting for this: NO-ONE should be THIS chirpy and live!"

The mare shrunk even more.

"I mean, honestly! HOW are you even ALIVE?! Your diet alone would have killed millions of species - all of which MILLION times your size, and in perfect health! Aside from that, you arbitrarily bend and break the rules of physics and logic itself. An amazing feat, perhaps, but don't you think it may have some negative effects on the way people see you? Or what about your constant parties, thrown for the most trivial reasons in the world, or for no reason at all! For shitz and giggles, literally! "Why", asks the common equine, "does one hold parties which are all the same and show no difference in design, taste - or lack, thereof -, and theme"? To HIDE something, obviously!

Her eyes widened. NOW she really didn't liked where this was going.

"So..." the diesel smirked "What are you hiding, Pinkamena Diane Pie? What sort of dark, ghoulish secret do you have, and where? In your basement, perhaps?"

He could practically hear her heart breaking - no sign of protest from her this time. Good.

"But, I shall stay from the horrid "rumors" surrounding your case." the locomotive smiled with mock-kindness "Though, the question still remains: WHY do you hold your banal, trivial parties all the time? WHAT are you trying to cover up?"

Oddly enough the others raised their heads slightly - this one question had been bugging them for some time by now, with no clear, straight answers given. Perhaps now...

Diesel's smile disappeared.

"I tell you, what: Emptiness!"

This caught the pink pony by surprise... What did he meant?

"Beyond your blatant, unnecessary parties, stomach-churning cheeriness and over-the-top, hyperactive mindfuck nonsense, you're nothing more, than an empty sell..."

He paused, impressively.

"A mare without any content and frame, nothing more than built-up bubble of saccharin, food color and confetti - a balloon, reminiscent of the three on your flank - all puffed up in a nice, round shape, seemingly firm, yet flexible, yet all it takes is a bit of extra-cold air or liquid... Just a bit too much pressure applied... Just ONE, sharp pin..."

BANG!

The ponies jumped - the engine's statement was enhanced by a violent backfire.

"Your mask falls..." Diesel said softly "Your hide, now loosing all it's shape, becomes wrinkled and loose. But what was on the inside? Nothing..."

He had to stop, just to stifle his laughter...

"Just a gush of moist, moldy air... No content... No value..."

He couldn't help it... His smile quickly twisted into a grin, and he burst out laughing, rude and loud - the best joy is gloat, after all.

Twilight couldn't understand him - HOW can one be so cruel and bitter all of a sudden, when he acts so normal all the time. So... Peaceful and somewhat tolerant. Reasonable. Wise, even...

And why...?

Why...?

WHY did all that he had said seem... So true?!

So undeniably obvious, now that he had mentioned.

Sure, it was biased - or, at least, felt like -, and, of course it extremely negative...

But then...

Why did she felt that he had spoken what had been in her mind for so long?!

"Alas, our time is short, so I might as well wrap this up..." the shunter smirked, and his peers smirked with him.

Their engines purred comfortably, sound akin to that of a tiger's, panther's or jaguar's, which hid in the bushes, watching as a member of it's kin toy with the prey...

Icy smirks on every face, soft, malicious frowns upon each eye...

They were one.

One immense, horrible group of bastards, who's words we're so undeniable true!

"I could go on and ON about how the Princesses are outcast by default despite all their fame, fortune, luxury and benevolence... Though, now that I mentioned it, it isn't really that much of a surprise that they fail as social beings, if we not count the tea parties, speeches and meetings they have to attend..."

His gaze changed subjects...

"Then there is our beloved Doctor, with his little, klutzy gray lovemaid, BOTH of whom ponies ogle at with shock and disturbia..."

The mentioned too leaned close, trying to comfort one another, wordlessly.

"But I feel it's time we got one the MAIN REASON of this peppy rant..." Diesel grinned "TWILIGHT SPARKLE!"

A gasp arose from the group, as all eyes - hurt, sad, and angry glares - landed on the lavender mare.

Diesel's smile was no more.

"When YOU were selected as my driver, I thought I was lucky - I had the most reasonable, sensible equine in a thousand yard radius as my driver - and all those trivialities about being the heroine of Equestria and the Element of Magic, Princesses' protegee, et cetera, et cetera..."

The mare listened, anxiously...

"But I soon came to the realization that you are, but another naive little pony, living in her own world of delusions, oblivious of the world that has to suffer around her, and completely uneducated about the virtues of life - a folly I write upon the bill of your mentor..."

Twilight couldn't see, but feel that Princess Celestia lowered her head even further. She tried to feel rage, but she had no more anger left...

"...In the end..." Diesel uttered finally "You're nothing more, than a shut-in, nerdy bookworm and teacher's pet with a periodic fit of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder - yet another outcast to ad to the list, and WHY NOT?! That's basically the ONLY THING us engines and you ponies have in common..."

The mare sighed... Was this the end?

"Until today..."

...Definitely not...

"For today, I came to the realization that even though we are all ostracized by the society around us, WE, engines, are still different from you..."

"...How?" she asked, weakly.

Diesel took a deep breath.

"Despite all your errors, mistakes and misconceptions, DESPITE all the petty anguish and pathetic delusion you live in, you're still better than us..."

The mare's head perked up...

"...What?"

"Don't get me wrong, it isn't just YOUR efforts that helped this..." the engine sniffed.

None of his peers were smiling anymore
.
Twilight stared, perplexed.

"For everything you do, every path you take, every ounce of effort you put into things, WE always botch it up. WE always take the wrong path, our efforts always fail, and ALL of our work is DOOMED to failure."

He paused for a moment.

"I had said it countless times before, but I shall repeat it once more: OUR world isn't as nice as your's is. It's ugly, wretched and cruel, twisted and warped in sick ways, and as appealing as a pustulate pimple on your anus. Therefore, EVERYTHING that comes from there, including us, is worse than anything that comes from here. - he explained, half-heartedly - Your world supports your delusions and eccentricities, OURS detests them and humiliates us for them, mercilessly - WE don't have the luxury of a "loving" and "tolerant" society..."

He fell silent, for one last time...

"To sum it up... You, Twilight Sparkle, you and your friends, are outcasts, weirdos, misunderstood by the rest of the world.

WE are rejects! We're freaks that the rest of the world has ejected from itself, and left to rot..."

He spat, then, with a loop of thought, added:

"THAT'S why we've came here in the first place! At least, THIS world can bare us, if never truly accept or tolerate..."

He gazed at the mares for one, last time - no sign of anger, spite or malice in his eyes. Just sorrow.

"We HOPED we could find somethings that vaguely resembled "friends" in this world, so famous for it's love and tolerance. Instead, we were given delusions and fake, material happiness composed of petty consumerism and empty relations..."

The air grew heavy with melancholy... Neither engines or ponies uttered a word...

What was there to say, after all?

"...And in the end, we did find people who we can relate to..."

Diesel's voice was hoarse, and filled with bitterness.

"They are rejects, just like us - rejected from the pseudo-perfect society of ponies, rejected by a group of outcasts who stand on a higher level - knew how to gang up against the ones they don't like... YOU."

Doors slammed...

Motors growled...

Brakes hissed...

One by one, the locomotives reversed from the sidings, reversing from the one place that had seen so much since they have arrived...

No word spoken... No thought to share...

They just trundled back to their sheds, away to hide from a world that rejected them as well...

In the cab of two particular engines, a griffon and a pony sat, staring at the scenery outside, listlessly. They were rejected - and thus, accepted.

One by one, the ponies left the field, each on his or her own way, not uttering one word to the other - there was nothing to be said.

Just emptiness.

The Princesses retreated to the palace, tail in between their legs, after the painful humiliation they had to suffer through the day - the painful realization of it all.

They turned to their friend for help, but Alexei declined.

"Don't speak to me..." he muttered, emotionless "I have nothing to say to you."

Late into the night, a lavender mare climbed into her bed, exhausted. Her step-brother and assistant tried to comfort her, but his words fell to deaf ears, so he eventually gave up, and retried to bed himself...

"These are the main sheds." Bowler explained kindly "Not much, but it's home."

"Not much"?

The place was massive, especially compared to her old carriage.

"There are sleeping quarters upstairs..." the green diesel went on "But I'd rather suggest that you sleep in my cab. The seat is adjustable and comfy, and I'm MUCH cleaner than anything around here!"

That the mare could guess from the strong musk of soap coming from the locomotive.

Gilda said her goodbyes, welcoming her to the team.

"Don't worry." she said, mustering a smile in spite of her tiredness "It's not bad. It gives you a stable income until you find another... Oh..." she shut her beak, and left, quickly...

The mare sighed wearily, and, following Bowler's advice, retired into the Class 40's cab.

The seat quickly turned into a bed, and she found some warm blankets packed aside.

Laying on her "bed", a shiver ran down her spine - what will become of her, Beatrix Lulamoon?

The Great and Powerful was no more.

All that was left...

...Was a reject...

And in the night, two magical mares cried themselves into a dreamless sleep...

As one.

E.R. Short: Mayan Scenario PHAIL'D

The applefarmer stared at the ground, looking bereft...

"Wha's wron', A.J.?" Spamcan asked.

"Tomorrow s'pposed th' be th' annual Apple Family Reunion..." Applejack sighed.

"An'?"

"Well, with th' world endin' today... I don' 'now how we're goin' ta hold it..."

The big goods engine rolled his eyes in vexed manner.

"Oh, fo' God's... Ya don' hones'ly BELIEVE in dis shi', do ya?!"

The mare lowered her head.

"Ah don' 'now, Sugahcab..." she muttered "With all th' rumors goin' around..."

"Stop righ' dere!" the diesel called out "Tha's i'! Rumors! THA'S exactly wha' dey are!"

The mare was perplexed.

"Bu'... Th' ancient ponies!"

"That's righ'! ANCIENT! Which mea's we CANNO' 'NO' wha' dey EXAC'LY wan'ed!" D199 snapped "I's mo' li'ely tha' dey ran ou' o' space, o' wan'ed th' calendar th' end a' a nice, roun' numbah..."

The cowmare's eyes widened...

"Ya 'now... Ah haven' though' o' that!"

"Hmph. An' why no'?"

The mare scratched her head, kicking the dust with her other hoof.

"It's all... Science an' history stuff... Ah was nevah really good with those..."

"I can tell..." Spamcan grinned "Yer brothe' tol' me ya nearly flun'ed 'em in eigh' grade..."

"...DID he?" she asked, angrily...

"ANYWAYS..." the engine interrupted her oncoming rage "Ya shoul'n' worry 'bou' i'... Th' worl' is NOT going t' end today... OR tomorro'..."

"Bu'... All tha' chattin' abou' a "new age"..."

"Oh, fo' fuck sake!" the diesel snapped "Yer no' makin' dis easy, A.J.!"

The mare looked at him, surprised by his outburst, as he continued:

"Jus' ge' i' in yer thic' head: I's. NOT. A new age. Fo' US. I's th' beginning o' a new CELESTIAL era!"

"Tha's exac'ly mah point!" Applejack snapped "Th' Princesses...!"

"I mea's th' dere will be a change on inte'stella' levels! Constellations changing place an' shape an' shi'! Barely any o' i' would affect US!"

"Yah mean...?"

"Yeah! I's far beyond the Pri'cesses!" he sighed "Dey're bound to DIS planet! DIS solar system! Nothin's gonna change, no matter wha' fanatics and religionous fundamentalis' say!"

"...Wha...?"

"Ugh, neve'mind! Poin' is, don' worry! Th' worl' ISN'T ending! I's just some change on th' grea'er scheme o' thin's tha' WON'T affect us!"

The mare thought for some time...

Then smiled.

Gently, she snuggled up to the side of the big diesel, her furry head pressing against his lukewarm, metallic hide.

"Thank you, Spamcan..." she smiled.

"Yer very welcom'..." the engine sighed, glad that the whole ordeal was over...

They stayed like that for some time.

"Don' ya have a family reunion ta organize?"

"...Horseapples, yer right!"

As the mare galloped off, Spamcan stared after her.

Once he was out of sight, he allowed himself to smile, as he glanced up into the sky...

"Pfff! "END of th' World because of some antediluvian, sob stuffed grindstone, my ARSE!" he thought.

THE END

Author's Note

This was made WAAAAY back in 2012.

Episode 16 - Hairline Cracks

HAIRLINE CRACKS

Summer ended.

Autumn came and went.

With the first, morning freeze came winter.

It wasn't much of an attraction, it WAS it's very beginning - November had just ended, and since it had been an unusually warm year (which anti-spectrumists ultimately blamed on the supposed by-products of rainbow refining), frost was having a hard time remaining in it's boreal state.

However, the early morning cold is all what it took winter to spoil the mood of a certain group, down at the humble town of Ponyville.

Place your bets, dear readers, and guess, who they are!

"GOOD DAMN COLD STARTS!"

The yard was mostly ruled by cold silence - MOSTLY. Celestia's sun had just risen, and the Ponyville Marshalling Yard was already up and ready to work away the dull day - MOSTLY.

"Jesus Christ, Diesel! Just SHUT UP!" BoZo growled "It's 6 in the morning, my wheels got frostbite already, and now, YOU won't bloody start! Just... MARVELOUS!"

"Well, EXCUUUSE ME for not being a mechanical abomination and have a kettle installed inside me!"

"KETTLE?! Why I OUGHTA--...!"

"Settle down, you two!" Twilight called out from the cab "The sooner we start, the sooner you'll warn up!"

"Hmph! Easy for YOU to say!" the shunter growled "YOU'RE travelling in the cab!"

No reply came.

Diesel sighed.

Ever since the cathartic put-down, at the end of summer, Twilight refused to talk to him.

At first, she didn't even came to work for month - her friends returned, one by one, having accepted or getting over the hurtful words, but the lavender unicorn was yet to come.

Four weeks later, she did arrive.

She didn't make eye contact with any of the engines - heck, she barely even looked at them - and wasn't very talkative. Her friends told them that they hadn't even seen her for a whole week after the Magic Duel - apart from Spike, who simply shook his head morosely when asked about those lost seven days.

Still, things were looking up - she was willing to talk to him indirectly by now, and she didn't just control him as if he was completely inanimate.

"OK. One more time." he growled, and started again. His engine coughed and neighed, a pillar of steam and half-burned fuel rising from his exhaust.

Finally, with a healthy backfire, the motor roared to life, and he was ready to work.

It was harder than usual - Equestria still had REAL winters with ACTUAL snow, so ice on the rails, snowbumps and goosebumps were in sight. Still far away though, but the buffers of the trucks were already cold as Hell.

"Yeesh!" the hybrid shrieked "What have you guys been doing, sleeping in a bloody freezer?!"

"Oi! We don't 'ave the pleasure to sleep in heated sheds!" one of the trucks barked "So leave us alone, you oversized boiler!"

BoZo's reply was firm biff on the line of trucks in front of, which made him recoil as well, hissing as he once again made contact with the cold buffers.

Diesel rolled his eyes, and set off to work - the time it took to start him up was enough for his own buffers to cool off and become numb - he didn't had to worry, though - no circulation, whatsoever: no freezing limbs getting sawn off, no gangrene.

He went about with his daily job, working on instinct, while being largely bored. BoZo kept messing about with the trucks, trying to do his work at least half decently...

The trucks were far more jumpy in the winter than during the other seasons, probably because of the numbing cold and silence winter brought along itself.

For a young (or immature) engine, this may have been funny - the trucks yelping every time you gave them even the smallest bump, literally jumping a few feet up the air for no physical reason -, but with time, this grew old.

Not for Steamie and Pinkie, though - they enjoyed rushing around the yard, biffing and bashing trucks into their places.

"It's work AND fun!" they said, before sneaking up to some wizened old vans and proceeding to give them minor heart attacks.

"Bleh!" Diesel remarked, and rumbled off to the other side of the yard, where 'Arry and Bert were shunting.

The Iron Twins and Rainbow Dash quickly got over their own issue - nothing that's untrue was said, and whatever had been said, could be ignored, as you shouldn't always give a crap about the sour things of life.

And to tel you the truth, R.D. didn't like holding a grudge, anyway - especially not with the Twins.

She had her doubts when she first met them - two big, boxy diesel shunters, with scrubby looks and dark smiles, working in a place that's physically unbearable, thanks to the heat, as they watch their peers - engines, trucks, coaches - meet their fate at the light of the cutter's torch. It was a grim job, they knew, but someone had to do it.

And if that "someone" had to be them, why couldn't they enjoy it?

Rainbow didn't liked their job.

She didn't like... Ending things.

She was more of a starter personality.

However, their attitude, their approach on life, and their way of thinking - dark as it was - is what she did like.

The two Class 08's had an almost philosophic look on life and the world that surrounded them, beyond the concrete walls of the smelters, beyond the rusted fence of the scrap yard.

The two thuggish diesels usually stayed in the background, and observed their social environment from a distance.

Now, they didn't really had the brains to truly make important and/or revolutionary discoveries, but what little they comprehended and could put down in words was enough.

They were smart, smart in a way Rainbow liked it: experienced. Wise. Tough as nails.

And even though they did join Diesel's rant, they still supported her. Her goals, her dreams, her self.

They were still by her side.

Almost as if...

...They were true friends.

"'S'up, Diesel!' Bert called out.

''Allo.' 'Arry added.

'Hey lads.' the shunter replied glumly.

"Oh, hi, Diesel!" Dash greeted him. Unlike the black Class 08, she was feeling bright. The banter he gave had made her realize a few things. Important things:

Brave as she was, it was still HER that needed a training in assertiveness, not Fluttershy.

So - slowly but surely - she began to organize her life. It was a pain at first, but by now, it worked like a charm.

"Wha's up, Diesel?" Bert muttered, observing his colleague "'ho toied yer wi'es i' a knot?"

"Meh..." he replied "It's this ruddy cold and peace! NOT ONLY it is freezing every bloody morning, it's also so BOOORING!"

"...And that's THAT much of a problem?" Rainbow asked, raising an eyebrow.

Diesel just sighed, rolling his eyes.

Ponies could train and warm up themselves, but engines could only be warmed up by their boilers, motors and generators - and even then, parts that weren't parts of the prime mover system, such as wheels, buffers, couplings and traction rods didn't warm up at all...

"So, anyways... Wha's u' wi'h ya la'ely?" 'Arry asked

"Well..."

As the three shunters discoursed, Twilight pulled Rainbow to the side.

"Hey, hey! Take it easy, Twilight!" the pegasus muttered "What's wrong?"

The unicorn checked if the engines were listening, but they were still busy conversing.

So, she turned to her friend.

"I think Diesel's right!" she whispered.

Rainbow gave her a blank look.

"So?" she asked "It's cold, and not much is going on. We had days like that before!"

"Yes, but this is different!" Twilight replied "The cold's alright, but there's something wrong! I can feel it!"

Again, the polychromatic mare just gave her a listless look.

"Yeah, well, that's easy to tell..." she sighed "You still haven't gotten over Diesel's little "hate speech", have ya?"

"W-What?!" Twilight mumbled "N-No! That's not it!"

"Oh really?" Dash asked "Then how come you're still not talking to him?"

"I..." the mare was about to retort, or more likely, back-pedal, but she stopped herself before saying something she'll regret - she was DEFINITELY picking up too many of the bad habits of her engine.

"Look..." she sighed "There's something wrong. There's a tension in the air, almost like electricity, that had been... Bothering me for day by now!"

"Ummm... Couldn't it simply be... Winter?" Rainbow pondered.

"Huh?!" Twilight recoiled "What do you mean?"

"Weeell..." the pegasus muttered, scratching her head "You do wear heavy, fluffy sweaters during winter, right?"

"Yeaah..." Twilight replied "Why?"

"Well, as you wear them, trot around in them, they get charged up with static electricity, right?"

"Yes, that could happen..."

"You can zap yourself when you touch metal objects, or can zap your friends, as if you used a Buzz Button, right?"

"...Yeah. Your point?"

"Umm... Didn't you notice that our fur grows thicker during the winter?"

Twilight's eyes widened.

"...WHUAT?!"

"Honestly? You didn't notice?" Dash was amazed "It happens to EVERYPONY, even the Princesses! Heck, it even happens to griffons and hippogriffs!"

The unicorn was still dumbfounded, so the pegasus went on.

"Sure, it's not the same for EVERYPONY... It's most noticeable on pegasi, because we fly around a lot, thus, we need the insulation..." she explained, shaking her slightly longer mane "Then there are the earth ponies, who often have to work in ice and snow, so their furs grow thick, too."

The mare sat down, slowly registering what she was hearing.

"Now that I think about it, unicorns' and alicorns' fur doesn't grows AS thick, as they usually rely on their magic to warm themselves up... Buuut, then again, I heard it's selective... Oh well, the point is, as our fur grows thicker, it becomes more sensitive to static charge."

She suddenly reached out, and zapped Twilight on the ear with her hoof.

"OW!"

"See?" she asked, chuckling.

"OK..." Twilight muttered "So much for the taste of electricity... But the feeling still remains!"

The pegasus placed her leg over her shoulder.

"Relax, Twilight..." she smiled, sympathetically "You're being a bit nervous, that's all... I mean, when did you sent your last letter?"

Twilight climbed out from under her leg's embrace.

"Rainbow, this is serious!" she snapped, then sighed "Recently, I felt this... Unexplainable tension, lingering in the air like smog... You can barely notice it, but it's there..."

She turned to face her friend.

"I can feel it, Dash! This isn't just static electricity, it's magic!"

She sighed again, and looked into the sky, towards the mountainside city of Canterlot.

"The kind of magic I only experienced once."

Dash seemed confused.

"Once?"

"Yes. In fact, I think, all of us had!"

Rainbow's eyes slowly widened, as realization sank in.

"You... You don't think...?" she whispered, inhaling sharply.

"I don't know..." Twilight replied, looking more worried than ever "I truly don't know..."

Around noon, Spamcan arrived, waddling with a train of tankers, once filled with apple cider.

"Anothe' loa' fo' Cante'lo'?" Bert asked him, as he parked down on a siding.

"*Hic* Some of it!" Spamcan smiled goofily. Applejack got out of his cab in the same manner - tipsy and unsure of the presence of her semicircular canals.

She flounced around, making arches and pirouettes that would make a ballerina grow green with envy, then proceeding to plop down beside the surprised and amazed Twilight and Rainbow.

"Haallooo, Gurls!" she chortled, muffling a belch "Wha'ssup?"

"A.J., have you been... Drinking?" Rainbow asked, unsure of whether she should be aghast or amused.

"Well, no manure, Share Lock!" the cowpony replied, proceeding to lay down on the ground.

"Applejack, you can't get wasted on the job!" Twilight snapped "You could've caused a serious accident!"

"But Ah didn'..." the drunken mare slurred "So sush yer flank an' git off mah face!"

And with that, she fell asleep.

Unlike the others, Applejack didn't sulked. On the night after the battle, she laid in her bed, thinking about what the diesels said. Being the Element of Honesty, she was able to accept the truth, but that was... Too much. Too painful.

However, she was made of tougher stuff than to weep about it.

Spamcan was notorious for many things, but malignancy wasn't one of them. So they quickly made up to each other, and resumed their jobs. There was SOME tension in the beginning, but it all melted away as they, once again, began to enjoy working together.

The rest of the Apple family, who wasn't informed about the Magic Duel, didn't notice much - A.J. and D199 acting a bit cold, a familiar blue mare showing up in town, but that's all.

During the last week of autumn, the Princesses always ordered extra amounts of Sweet Apple Cider, for the winter festivities - they literally stockpiled stuff, from food to charcoal, which was smart, given the fact that Canterlot was built on a mountainside, with only the open air, and a pair of railway tracks connecting it with the outer world - AND, there had been quite a few nasty stories going around, especially during the campfires in the early winter, about hikers and travelers who froze to death, and entire villages that had been snowed in, and were found deserted, or worse, filled with emancipated corpses covered in bite marks...

None of these stories were ever proven, but there WERE disappearances in the winter, and certain towns and villages disappeared from the maps from time to time.

Whether it was the paranoia of the nobles, or the precaution of the Princesses, Canterlot always gathered supplies for the winter, and then some, for the near-by villages as well.

But rumor had it that most of it eventually went to waste, so the mare and the Class 46 decided to take "precautions" as well.

As a result, they brought five tankers less than the required amount (the missing tankers would eventually be discovered a few decades later, out-shored in a gassy part of Froggy Bottom Bog), and were surprisingly merry (and red in the face).

Spamcan was still high as a kite caught by alcohol clouds, so the others had trouble getting the truth out of him - although, it would've been even harder in Applejack's case.

"C'mon, la'! Tell us wha' 'appen'd!" 'Arry snapped.

"Yeah, spill de bea's..." Bert added.

"*UUUUUURP!* Ya cun rea' i' in th' serie' epilogue!" the groggy goods diesel grumbled "O' in thi' 'pisode's script!"

"...Wha'...?" the twins asked in unison.

"What do we do now?" the pegasus "She just won't wake up!"

They had been shaking the cowpony for quite a few minutes by then, and all she did was grumble, then turn to her other side.

Twilight's original solution was using magic, but then, she remembered what a dangerous mixture alcohol and sorcery was - the public pagoda at the town limits was still being rebuilt after the Mane 6's E.I. (Everypony In) trash party.

Rainbow eventually lost patience, and suggested a kick in the muzzle, but Twilight reminded her that their friend was still drunk, which made her even more volatile than a Zap Apple Cider-Moonshine-Magic cocktail, should she be awakened too early.

"I'd say you let her rest."

The two mares looked up to see Rarity, trotting away from Old Stuck-Up's cab. It had been the Midday Express, but the return journey from Manehattan to Canterlot had been canceled, so the Class 40 left the coaches there, and returned with his driver - apparently, it was an urgency.

"Rarity?!" Rainbow muttered "What are you doing here?! Shouldn't you be in Manehattan?"

"Not today, it seems..." the unicorn replied, sounding perplexed "The other half of our usual run was... Postponed, indefinitely."

"So was our daily routine at the Smelters." the cyan pegasus remembered.

Stuck-Up rolled beside his peers.

"Oi, wha's goin' on 'ere?" 'Arry grunted.

"What do you mean "what's going on here"?" the express engine snorted "We're being called in, one by one!"

"That's right..." BoZo pondered, rolling up to them "AND, it seems that we also being kept away from Canterlot." he went on.

"Canterlot?" Stuck-Up muttered, before retorting "I've been there just this morning, you pleb! What are you on about?"

"Yeah, bu', you we'e th' o'ly train GOIN' t' Can'e'lo'!" Bert replied "No othe' pass'nge' trains wen' dere dis mo'nin'..."

"An' com' th' thin' o' i', Spamcan's 'ad th' o'ly freigh' trai' goin' dere!" 'Arry added, thoughtfully.

"Well, that certainly IS odd..." Stuck-Up admitted, after a bit of pause "I wasn't dropping off any passengers - I was only picking them up. LOTS of them!"

Steamie puffed up to the group, with Pinkie jumping out of his cab.

"Girls! Girls!" she jelled, as she ran up to them "I just heard some weird things from the shunters! Something's not right!"

"See? Told you." Twilight whispered to the pegasus, who merely rolled her eyes.

"What's wrong, darling?" Rarity asked, as Pinkie skidded to a stop.

"There's... Something... Wrong... In Canterlot!" she huffed, catching her breath "I heard it from the shunters!"

"Pinkie, dear, the shunters always gossip about high society." Rarity replied, whisking her hoof "The more dirty secrets they find out about the upperclass, the better! For them, that is..." she quickly added.

"But this is different!" Pinkie replied "Last night, there were several passenger trains commuting between Canterlot and big cities far away from it, the nearest one being Manehattan!"

"So?" Dash asked.

"These trains weren't TAKING anyone TOO Canterlot." the party pony explained, sounding alarmed "They only TOOK them FROM Canterlot!"

"The Midday Express today ran from Canterlot to Manehattan, and the return journey was cancelled!" Rarity added "And in Canterlot Central everypony got in as fast as possible. We even had to ad three extra coaches and an additional luggage van!"

"And that's not all!" the pink mare put in "This morning, the shunters did a routine check on Spamcan's train, and found out that only FIVE tankers were filled with cider! The rest of them had weird stuff in it..."

The others exchanged worried looks. Applejack shifted in her sleep.

"...What sort of stuff, darling?" Rarity asked, with a bit of hesitation.

"They were like props!" the mare replied.

"Props?"

"Yeah! Old, musty books with blank pages, carved stones and creepy, weird statues, and orbs that kept glowing..."

"Enchanted equipment!" the two unicorns exclaimed in unison.

"Why would the Princesses need those?" Steamie asked "Aren't they powerful enough?"

The mares and the engines exchanged puzzled looks.

Slowly, Twilight's eyes widened.

"If they had to resort to amulets, banned spell books, power collectors and such, then whatever is going on, it's something that requires power that is beyond the Princesses' capabilities!"

"Tha' soun's ruddy dange'ous!" Bert muttered.

Suddenly, a spark came to his eye.

"Evacuation!" he gasped.

"What?!" the others asked.

"Th' ci'isens ar' bein' evacua'ed from Can'e'lo'!" the shunter explained.

"We figured THAT out, dipshit!" Diesel growled "But the question is: why?"

"...B'cause o' th' dange'?" Bert asked, nonchalantly.

"No shit, Sherlock!" a voice barked.

The engines and the mares looked up, as a deep horn moaned in the crisp air.

It was CoBo - he and Gilda had arrived into the yard in the few minutes when they were discussing the events.

Tailgating them was Derek and Fluttershy, Pip and Emma, with their drivers, Cloud Chaser and Flitter, the Breakfather with Dr. Whooves on board, followed closely by Vac and Derpy, then Cromwell, only accompanied by his tender, Mr. Bottomsly, and the line ended with Brush, bringing Zecora in his cab.

"What's this?!" Diesel snapped "There weren't any get-togethers or other sentimental crap planned for today!"

"This is odd..." Derek pondered "Something's not right."

"Of course something's not right, you dunce!" Stuck-Up sniffed "Canterlot's been evacuated, and these drunkards have been legally smuggling magical accessories into it."

"Drunkards?" the Doctor muttered, eyeing up the sleeping mare and the wasted diesel.

"I swear, dey TOL' us th' ta'e th' tan'ers, drin' dem dry, an' den dump 'em in th' swamps!" Spamcan protested in a plastered manner, as a black mushroom cloud blasted out from his exhausts, carrying the strong smell of smoked cider.

"Look, whatever's going on in Canterlot, it has the caliber of a smaller Armageddon." Cromwell cut in "We HAVE to investigate."

"No, we don't." the Doctor replied, stomping the ground. He had never seemed so authoritative before "Whatever is going on up there, we cannot leave Ponyville. We've all been ordered here, and..."

"All?" Steamie asked, cutting him off.

"Yes, all." the stallion uttered dryly.

"Then where's Trixie?"

"Or Bowler, for that matter?" his driver asked.

Everyone looked around.

The Doctor let loose of a long, exasperated sigh.

"Great..."

"I doubt we're supposed to be here..." the green engine muttered.

He was rolling along on a pair of magical tracks, summoned by his driver - just barely, though.

Trixie's magic improved a lot while she was away from Ponyville, which didn't stopped with her return, momentary death, and the months she spent, working on Equestrian Rail, or more properly, the Other Railway - she didn't really worked with any other ponies or engines.

But while her magic improved, her mood didn't.

She did kept her end of the unspoken "deal" she made with the Class 40: she cleaned him herself, using her magic, quickly making Bowler the cleanest - if abnormally shiny - diesel in the fleet. However, not even the shadow of a smile could be noticed on her face.

Her routine became monotonous: wake up, shower, clean D261, get daily assignments, pull the usual trains, pull the assigned trains, go back to the shed, clean Bowler, shower, back to bed.

After some time, Gilda began to complain about waking up to sobbing in the middle of the night, and despite the showers and the increasingly shorter and shorter working hours, Trixie's eyes were weary, puffy and red, due to all the crying.

The overall atmosphere in the yard dropped like an anvil on Wile E. Coyote's head.

The blue mare didn't really talk with the others, moving about in the sheds like a ghost, barely uttering more than one-, or two-word answers. Still feeling guilty, Twilight didn't even dared to talk with her former rival - nor could she talk to Diesel. She felt... Smothered by all the negativity and bitterness that radiated from the engine on that faithful day, and couldn't bring herself to talk with him - not noticing that everypony thought she was giving him the silence treatment.

The others recovered, one by one - their engines were there to support them.

Pinkie couldn't stay sad with the Cakes and Steamie around. They were just too cheery and kind to just leave her sulking.

Steamie proven to be a great help as well - young and naive as he was, he dealt with the grizzly nature of the diesels day after day, and aided the mare on her stumbling path out of emotional darkness, without either of them noticing.

Applejack and Spamcan quickly patched things up - they couldn't let one argument stop them from work, and with work, comes play. They made amends quite soon.

Rainbow Dash had the trust and support of the two most thuggish shunters on this side of Equestria, and that's saying something - not only was she backed up by two pals, she was also being outstandingly awesome!

Fluttershy was never the one who (could) held anger for long, and Derek was quick to apologize. They both agreed to work on her (social) problems, while the workmen desperately tried to find a way to end the Class 17's recurring (cooling system-related) issues.

Rarity and Old Stuck-Up treated each other coldly for weeks on end. Stuck-Up held out fine, it wasn't the first time he had a disagreement with his driver. Neither was it the first time he had no-one to talk to but his incompetent, pleb colleagues (aside from the cowardly Bowler and the eccentric Cromwell) - Spamcan, the filthiest prole he had ever seen, with the Iron Twins being close seconds, the feeble little Derek and the elderly BoZo. Speaking of elderly, there was that senile dingbat, the Breakfather, and the little tin toy that their current, uugh... Controller, chairman, pardon, chairmare and director built - what was his name? Jugglenaught, or something? He didn't care really.

Then there was Pip and Emma, the chirpy little token females, and Steamie, the rolling psychological hazard - no WONDER why he got that irritating pink pile of cotton candy and rubber plastic to be his driver.

The air-headed Vac or the gullible Brush didn't served as much of a conversing partner, either.

And CoBo just flat-out hated everyone.

But the worst had to be Diesel - the six wheeled little twat was a major pain in the rear cab, a true bastard among them. And while he was LIGHT YEARS from high society, the express engine had to admit one thing: he truly represented what the Other Railway stood for, no matter the year - he was the quintessential British Rail diesel when he first rolled out of the works, and he still is.

But that didn't helped how much of a massive git he was.

Stuck-Up could tolerate them - just barely - and continued his work.

Rarity had never been more insulted in her life like she was that day, and even though deep down, in her sore heart, she knew they were right, she would never admit it to herself.

She didn't even came in in the first week - she made progress with her dresses instead, played with Sweetie Belle, visited the spa... Overall, she was acting like a normal mare, who has NO RELATION to the railway.

But then...

Then came a feeling, a longing, burning feeling, that tore through her aching ego, much like a chainsaw that tears through one's hoof - painfully.

She wouldn't admit at first, but she missed the visiting the sheds - truth to be told, both she, and the mares made more and more frequent visits ever since the incident with... Uuuugh! Montgomery, the militant, megalomaniac shunter, who took over the yard...

Actually, the diesels were right, for once - about nicknaming him "Dick", that is.

And with her visits becoming more frequent, Rarity had more time to get acquainted with the engines of her friends - Fluttershy's mix traffic engine, the mild-mannered and often sick Derek, Pinkie's tank engine, the (admittedly) cheerful-on-a-near-psychotic-level Steamie, Applejack's vulgar, but otherwise decent, hard working goods engine, Spamcan, Rainbow Dash's two, ruffian, but also very experienced shunters, 'Arry and Bert, the honorable, engine-turned-brake-van-turned-engine Breakfather (undisputed Don of the Yard, according to him), the aloof gas-turbine engine Cromwell and his well-mannered, if gassy tender, Mr. Bottomsly, the slightly immature Vac, Derpy's friend, and the odd-job Juggernaut, the... Curious rail lorry their majesties and Mr. Alexei had built, and Gilda's cold and calm Class 28 Metrovick diesel, CoBo...

And, of course, who could forget Twilight's own, jet black Class 08 shunter, the embittered Devious Diesel?

Really, who could?

The only engine she didn't really managed to talk with during those days was Bowler, the clean-obsessed green diesel, the same kind as Old Stuck-Up. The quaint engine managed to remain irrelevant in the scenery, despite his near-blindingly polished buffers.

It wasn't until that... Dreadful duel that he finally became noticed.

And now, Rarity desperately wanted to talk to him. Not because she felt guilty for not talking to him before - he sorta didn't made any attempt to really socialize with anypony -, but for him being the engine of Trixie, apparently, he surely knew something about her emotional state.

She simply HAD to come back to the sheds, but her ego wouldn't let her. Thankfully, Sweetie Belle saw her struggle, and suggested that they visit Old Stuck-Up.

The mare and the engine made up with each other, coldly and formally, but as she resumed her work, the enjoyment and pride that came with it returned, and soon, she and Stuck-Up were on good terms once more.

However, Trixie's state was still concerning.

She kept herself clean, and, since she practically lived on the sheds (sharing one of the flats built above the sidings with Gilda), she showed up to work every day. Like Gilda, she was payed well as an engineer, and quickly learned the controls, signals, rules, everything - something which not even Twilight, the most studious equine she ever knew, could achieve.

But she remained listless and melancholic, barely speaking.

Her magic was truly a sight of wonder, but without her usual attitude to back it up, it lost it's lustrum... It was actually scary how emotionless she was growing...

All the workponies were concerned about her, especially the Mane 6, Dr. Whooves, and Derpy.

Spike tried to talk to her, but he reported that it felt like a mutual look-right-through-me race.

Gilda didn't wanted to bother her by (or just didn't bother) talking to her, so she left her alone.

The diesels, albeit initially concerned, quickly forgot about Trixie - all, except Bowler.

They didn't bothered to help her, and what's worse, with the former showmare being so listless, her lethargic attitude sucked out the joy and comfort from the others as well. This made the engines return to their "normal", otherworldly self - Bowler being a selfish hypochondriac and neat freak, Stuck-Up being an arrogant, posh twat, Spamcan returning to his macho, hard-nut douchebaggery, Steamie losing sight of true happiness and reverting to his semi-psychotic self, Derek loosing his recently gained morale and becoming weedy and a great big softie once more, 'Arry & Bert loosing their sense of decency and philosophic approach, and returning to their usual vulgarity, brutality and idiocracy, and so on...

This brought a dark veil over the yards - the ponies enjoyed their work less and less, and the engines felt "at home", more and more.

The mares had to cope with their increasingly intolerable nature, while they tried to help Trixie the best they could, but things were slipping out of their hooves.

As the dark veil descended over the yards, the mares began to enjoy their time spent there less and less, and once again, their doubts awoke with their petty anguishes... Doubts, that eased sight of what is truly essential:

Their friendship weakened.

And with it, so did a crust...

A crust...

Of solid stone...

"Trixie, look, we gotta get out of here!" the passenger engine exclaimed "We weren't supposed to be here in the first place! The others are waiting for us, you can barely conjure these rails, and the entire city looks like a ghost town!"

The mare didn't reply...

"Something's wrong..." Bowler attempted again, on a hushed tone "I can... Feel it..."

Not even the dramatic effect worked on her now!

They were in the Royal Gardens...

Neatly cut hedges and shrubbery, barren trees, reaching up into the sky like hands, graceful, even in such a dismal state.

They... Well, Bowler, to be exact, was following the narrow, gravel-paved path that snaked around the garden.

Statues where everywhere, depitching ponies doing various actions...

"I wonder..." the Class 40 thought "...If those were once actually living ponies that the Princess turned into stone..."

He had to chuckle at his own "wit".

"Nooo, it can't be..."

He suddenly wasn't sure.

"Can it...?"

Sitting inside his cab, Trixie had no time to watch the statues - conjuring rails just the right size, and constantly moving underneath Bowler so that he had something to run on was tiring, even with her increased magical abilities. She sighed, wiping the sweat from her brow, not letting it fall on the shiny surface of the cab floor.

Keeping the diesel squeaky clean became sort of a habit. I dulled the pain, somewhat, and helping him, the only one who still cared for her... Actually felt good. She smiled to herself, before taking a deep breath, and reinforcing the spell - it'll be only a few more yards.

Her horn was red hot, and ached badly, though, not as bad as it did on... That day, and her pain tolerance was pushed out greatly.

The diesel kept rolling at a steady pace - if he was too quick, he'd fall of the rails, and the same thing would happen if he was to slow.

Up ahead, a statue came into view.

It was hazy first, and Bowler found it hard to make out it's shape.

"Welp, off to the ophthalmologist with me..." he thought, as he drew closer to the sculpture.

However, once he could make it out...

"Oh no... Nononononono! NO!" he muttered, and applied his brakes.

Trixie felt a jolt, and the tension in her horn eased. She was cross, of course - the stone statue in question was still far away.

On the other hoof, she was relieved that the near-torturous amount of magic she was putting out could be toned down.

With a deep sigh, she summoned two long strips of rail to hold up Bowler, turned his engine off, and got out of the cab.

"You really want to do this, don't you?" Bowler asked, dispassionately.

Walking down on the gravel path, she couldn't keep her eyes off the sculpture...

It curved and arched in odd, sharp turns, forming the figure of a creature.

A creature that EVERYPONY knew all too well.

She felt a slight tingle of fear... But that was quickly snubbed by the overwhelming feeling of gloom and listlessness.

She trotted, or more like hovered, towards it. Sensations of anger, joy, envy, malice, fear - all numbed by lethargy and discouragement.

"Trixie! Stop! It's dangerous!" the engine yelled, he himself unsure, why.

The mare didn't stop. She just trotted forward, as if possessed.

The edge of her vision began to blur. Soon, she lost her peripheral sight. It was the statue that mattered.

She heard it.

Him... Calling out to her.

"You really shouldn't do it!" Bowler growled, more angry than anxious this time.

Trixie didn't reply.

She could now clearly make out the statue, all it's curves and cuts, it's odd shape and design... And a faint, but clearly visible, ugly crack that extended upon it's surface vertically.

She trotted on, her mood as flat as the ground, as the world warped around her.

Objects lost their shape and form.

The greenery died or twisted out in a warped, sick manner.

The trees near by, the clouds in the sky, the castle itself became tainted with corruption never seen or heard of before.

She didn't care.

What did it mattered to her, anyway?

She was nothing.

No name.

No fame.

No fortune.

No pride.

No talent...

No mark...

She had nothing!

"Trixie! Come back here! There's no point doing this!" the diesel shouted... Somehow, he didn't notice the blurring surroundings, or his increasing anger which grew without a reason - he just wanted out!

They shouldn't be in the gardens, anyway! And the only thing holding him back was that... Stupid mare!

Mentioned mare slowed her pace - there was no need to rush. The statue was only a few meters away.

It towered over her greatly. It had to be at least four or five times her size.

Not that she served as any measure. She was quite sure that even Twilight Sparkle towered over her - not only in talent, but in height as well.

A small cinder of a feeling - anger? envy? - flared in deep down in her heart. But it quickly smothered by the darkness residing in it.

She was few trots away from the base of the sculpture.

She could even read out the name on the brass plaque.

Her hoof reached out, just barely touching it's edge...

"For God's sake, cut the crap come back here...!" Bowler yelled across the yard. He was quite furious by now, so furious that he didn't notice the unnatural saturation of his colors: his face growing pale, his green coat becoming darker, the hazard yellow paint on his front and the red on his buffer plate growing dense in hue, his shiny buffers becoming blindingly bright, and the shades behind his cab windows growing black.

He glared after the gray (gray?) mare, standing beside the statue.

Her fur was now completely gray, crest and mane turned ashen, as she stared at the statue in front of her.

"Who AM I?" she pondered "What is my purpose?"

The statue didn't reply.

She read the name on the board again.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU STUPID NAG!" Bowler hollered from somewhere beyond her interest.

"Does it really matter... Who I am? Or... What I do? I've no talent."

Her gaze wandered up, setting on the center of the crack. Her horn lit up.

"And what does it matter... Whatever I do?"

The shadow of a smile crossed her face.

The next second, her horn began to glow with a dark blue light, as it charged up with magic, different from what she used to have.

The explosion lit up the cloudy sky.

"TIA!"

The palace was a mess. The remaining guards made haste, blocking all entrances and exits, apart from one - the main doors.

"Sister! Calm down!" the elder princess uttered, pulling her sibling close to herself, her larger wings embracing her little sister's smaller frame.

She was crying.

Never, in her life, did she saw her cry in terror...

Her blood curdled...

"Luna! Please..." she uttered softly, hugging her tightly "Calm down!"

The Princess of the Night shivered in fear, her tears matting both of their furs.

The guards kept rushing around, higher officers yelling commands, privates carrying supplies.

They tried to secure the castle.

And what did they did?

Comfort each other.

Shame burned fiercely in both of them, but for Luna, fear was more oppressive, and for Celestia, sorrow ruled over.

But beyond that, beyond their terror and anguish, beyond their common sense and comprehension, they felt something else...

Longing...

Alexei entered, his usual coat exchanged for a dark gray, Mao-suit resembling coat with no rank or insignia, just a symbol above his chest on the left - a red circle with an 'X' in it, and the number 11612 beneath it in Stencil print - the back of his coat bore the same number.

His peaked railway officer cap replaced by his original black, Swiss military beret, baring a pin of the same symbol on it's front.

His trousers black, his shoes replaced by steel-soled boots.

"It's time..." he uttered coldly "To make things right, once and for all!"

The two alicorns, Celestia Amaterasu Solaris, Princess of the Day, and Luna Tsuki Selene, Princess of the Night, Goddesses of the Sun and the Moon...

...Felt a quite mortal chill ran down their spines...

They saw the light down in Ponyville.

"Damn..." Spamcan uttered.

"Ya don' thin'..." 'Arry grunted.

"Ah hop' no'..." Bert mumbled.

"Now really, guys..." CoBo grumbled "Think clearly. TWO members of us are missing, and there was an explosion in Canterlot, which has been evacuated. Now, I doubt there's any threat of bombing in Equestria, which leaves us with the only possibility: that something "magical" - in the worst sense of the word - has occurred..."

"Which, in turn, means that we have to do something!" Derek declared.

"...Have to?" Gilda asked.

"Well, not US." Stuck-Up replied, looking at the Mane 6 "YOU, ladies, are the Elements of Harmony, and close friends to the Princesses, NOT US."

"So... You're not going to help, huh?" Rainbow asked, unimpressed.

"I never said that." the express engine replied, hastily, before turning his gaze to two of his colleges.

"'Arry? Bert?" he spoke in a serious manner "Bring in... The guns."

Without a word (they would've nodded, but, since they had no necks), the two shunters reversed from the sidings, into the large warehouse at the corner of the yard.

"What do you mean by... "Guns"?" Twilight asked, unsure of if she really wanted to hear the answer.

"These..." Diesel replied, gazing at the warehouse's dark entrance.

From within, the growling engines could be heard.

Soon enough, 'Arry and Bert, one beside the other, rumbled out of the hangar...

...Pulling two incredibly long trains of rail army supplies - howitzers, rocket launchers, anti-air and anti-tank weaponry, troops wagons, militarized rotary snow ploughs (yeah, you know what those were meant to plough), Tesla coils, flatbeds and low-loaders carrying tanks, trucks, cannons, bombs and missiles. And crowning the trains, at the very back, were robust, angular wagons, made of riveted, stainless steel. Their roofs opened, and with ominous zooming, the largest missiles of all erected from them, piercing the sky.

As the mares gawked, jaws reaching the ground, Diesel smirked.

"What? You thought we'd come to a new world unprepared?"

To be continued...

Episode 17 - The Chaotic and the Uppity

He couldn't help but to laugh with glee.

He was FREE!

Free from his stone prison, free from the excruciating boredom of nothingness and nonexistence, thanks to the intervention of a stumbling mare.

Which reminded him...

Unhinged as his mentality was, he still had the courtesy to thank the one who freed him from his stone prison - unintentional it may have been, he still owned the mare gratitude.

So he turned.

And gawked.

Before him, in the distance, stood an oblong, green, gray and yellow machine.

With a face!

It made a puzzled expression, akin to the blue mare which sat beside him.

As the two stared into a point somewhere in the air, the draconequus decided to take a closer inspection on them - they, at least, the mare, seemed familiar.

"What just happened?" Trixie asked, shaking her head sightly.

"Beats me..." Bowler replied. He remembered the feeling of anger from seconds prior, but now, he couldn't quite place it upon a reason - why was he angry in the first place?

The same thing occurred to Trixie: she remembered feeling lethargic just a few moments ago, but for whatever reason? She didn't know.

A dark shadow loomed over the two.

Bowler looked up to see the most weirdest thing he thought he could ever comprehend - it looked like a bunch of animal parts put in a mixing blender: horse, dragon, griffon, lion, goat, antelope, and God knows what else.

He noticed something else: the being's puzzled expression, and Trixie's tense body and the horrified look on her face, with her fur standing on edge, like a cats.

Gazing back at the being in front of him, he witnessed as the thing spoke, blurting out the first question HE could think of:

"Who-WHAT the heck ARE you?!"

"I was about to ask the same question." Bowler replied dryly.

Discord took aback, then smirked.

Who-, and whatever was this weird, poshy thing, he clearly wasn't from around - not knowing the local God of Chaos and all....

It was only right - polite -, that he introduced himself:

"Well now..." he chuckled "How un-courteous of me! You must be new around here..." he said, then cleared his throat "My name is Discord..."

"Hmmmm... Discord..." the diesel pondered "Some faint tingling in the distance, but doesn't ring a bell of any scale... Keep on..."

A bit this bemused by Bowler's interruption, Discord just shook his head, and continued. It may went exactly according to Bowler's request, which didn't pleased him one bit in hindsight, but, that's chaos for ya!

"H-khm! As I've said..." the draconequus went on "I'm Discord. Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony..."

"Uh-huh!" Bowler spoke up, his eyes lit up with realization "You're that old fart who messed up the world last time!"

He was about to agree, but as the machine's words sunk in, his face fell...

Bowler wasn't done yet, however...

"Yeah... "Spirit of Chaos", eh?" he sniffed "What, you mess up the landscape and the mind of ponies and slap THAT label on it? That's not chaos, that's just disorder, and the two AREN'T the same! You just mess about with the laws of physics, that's all! So much for "chaos"!"

Discord was speechless!

Where did this oversized green tin can gathered the guts to disparage HIS chaos?!

His blood boiled, but he managed to keep a face as straight as his unstable physique allowed.

"Hmph." he muttered "Perhaps, a bit of power display might change your--..."

"DON'T bother!" the diesel snapped "You're just some burned out old toss pot who doesn't knows what do with his free time. The kind of guy that gets put up against the wall by newer generations FIRST."

OK, that actually hurt.

Whoever was this thing, it had an acid tongue.

Less encouraged, Discord replied:

"Oh? And what makes YOU such an expert at Chaos, of all things?"

"I looked it up. I read after it. I studied theories. I paid attention to right people." Bowler uttered "Unlike YOU, they didn't hogged the concept of chaos for themselves and blinged it out with escherian-lovecraftian images. They shared it. And they didn't used it as a weapon to take absolute control over others. Instead, they shared their knowledge with others, for the good of all of us. Unlike YOU, THEY weren't selfish and tyrannic!"

The draconequus took aback.

Not out of surprise - he expected the rant to continue - but out of shock!

Really...?

This is how he saw HIS chaos?

Nothing more than tyranny coated in disorder and visual effects?

. . . .

Was he right?

The questions were to aching for him to truly consider them, so he just let them pass.

He noticed something else, anyway...

The little blue pony at the machine's... Front... Thingy...

The mare quivered before him, her icy, silvery mane over her face, her blue fur standing on edge.

"Whatever!" he said, trying to mimic the engine's voice "But what do we have here?"

He floated down onto the ground, leaning over the mare.

He also got pretty close to the green machine - and by the ancients, was it big!

Bigger than he expected, but then again, he didn't liked REGULAR perspectives, anyway.

"A little filly, all alone - beside her brash companion? How exquisite..." he sneered. He was surprised to see the mare shut her eyes and turn away, but not out of fear this time - his words drew tears.

"Piss off, you bastard!" the machine growled "She's been to Hell and back already, she doesn't needs YOUR arseholerism!"

Again, he took aback the rude words of the machine - he didn't seemed to be afraid, or respectful at that matter. But, he was certainly protective of the mare.

So he took his time for once, and checked out the equine before him - baring the stinging glare of the gray-faced construction.

French blue fur.

Silvery gray crest and tail, with a tint of blue as well.

Slim figure, yet short.

Purple, light eyes, deep pupils.

But... Where's her cutie mark?

NOW he understood why the machine became aggressive when addressed her: despite being a grown mare, though, still fairly young, she did't had her cutie mark, which was much needed in HER age.

And as the Spirit, no, GOD of Chaos, he still couldn't figure out, why...

Now that he had a closer look, the mare seemed... Familiar.

Something in the back of his mind was violently setting of blaring alarms, but he snubbed the irritating thing, so as to give his inner pondering the much needed silence it requires.

Who was this mare?

He was certain he had seen her before...

Not personally, but when rummaging through the memories of the world itself - a curious thing he was capable of in his stone form.

He saw the mare, as she met her match in the person of - Twilight Sparkle, of all ponies!

It made sense - the librarian was humble and she was boasting, and also, the lavender unicorn was better in magic, but didn't showed off, while she was a showmare...

That was exactly one of the reasons why he didn't liked making sense: it had a sort of unfair, bittersweet irony - the sort which leaves an increasingly bitter and unbearable taste in your mouth - the latter especially proven in the case of THIS mare, as he remembered seeing her suffer later on - again, sirens went off in the back of his mind, as he remembered himself... Actually feeling sorry for the mare... Despite...

He couldn't continue.

"Who are YOU, anyway?" he asked instead.

"I'm D261." the machine replied "But my... Colleagues call me Bowler."

"OK..." the draconequus muttered "And... Just WHAT are you?"

Bowler rolled his eyes.

"'m a diesel locomotive, a type of rail vehicle that's powered on a heavy-duty internal combustion engine, and runs on diesel fuel, hence the name."

"...."

"...I'mmmmmmmNOT very good with industry."

"Could've guessed..."

Shaking of yet another irritating reply, he mustered a smile, which quickly brought back his good mood.

Diesel locomotive or not, he still needed a taste of his chaos.

So he approached him.

"You seem a bit angry, my friend..." he smirked.

"I'm fine." Bowler replied on an everyday voice "And you're NOT my friend."

Now, the draconequus was genuinely surprised.

This... Engine seemed to share none of the moral, social... Or emotional traits of the ponies of Equestria: not afraid of him, not respecting him as an all-powerful being (going as far as to belittle HIS chaos), being supportive towards a washed-out mare seemingly hated by fate itself (sticking to her while the equines usually avoided such outstandingly unfortunate ones like the plague), and, in general, ignoring him as what he is - a freakin' deity! -, and showing him forced ignorance upon every trick or turn.

Other villains would have chosen such a person to be an ally.

But Discord...

He didn't liked him.

Bowler was everything the ponies weren't and everything HE, the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony, didn't WANTED to be - rude, ignorant, brash and uppity.

His few positive factors - his sense of solidarity and seemingly easy-going approach - lifted his character greatly.

Yet, Discord wanted none of it.

Why, he didn't wanted any of his chaos, either!

"But HE doesn't have the choice, now does he?" the spirit mused, smirking wickedly, as he leaned close to the - WOW - BIG face of the diesel.

"You're a bit too brash, locomotive..." he smirked "You got there an acid tongue. Let's see how you act with a spine softer than a sponge!"

He stared into his eyes, letting his magic do the work.

But the engine didn't flinched. He just stared. He could even see the reflection of his own, hypnotic eyes in HIS eyes, which made him dizzy!

"Yeeeeaaaahh... NOT going to happen..." Bowler grunted, and took a deep breath...

...And blew him away!

He landed roughly, on the gravel behind him, as the sound of the engine's horn, which went off with his exhalation, echoed around the hills.

Looking up, he met the gaze of the machine once more.

"You're beyond your time..." he said "Nothing more than a wrench thrown into the great gears of an already sick society. Nobody needs you. Nobody wants you. Nobody loves you. Nobody even knows you! You don't exist for them, really - just one of the many, mythical beings the Princesses had to fight with. And unlike the sound of the falling tree in the empty woods, in your case, you truly fail to make a sound. Nobody heard you. Therefore, you're NOTHING."

As his last words sank into his mind, he saw the mare - now less frightened - climb inside the diesels cab. A morbid thing, but, given the fact WHAT he was...

As he listened to the sound of his motor springing to life, he stood up, looking back at his former pedestal.

The diesel's words...

Made him feel... Hurt.

Insignificant.

Ignorable.

Or was this his own, reflected hypnosis doing it's trick?

That must be it.

A backfire could happen to anyone.

"...Doesn't matter..." he spoke out loud "I'm free once more, and I shall regain my throne! Chaos is the rightful order in Equestria. And chaos is ME..." he uttered with glee. Suddenly, the sirens from moments prior went off in his head again, louder than ever before.

He smirked, wickedly.

"And now, that the Elements of Harmony are weakened by..." he had to stifle a laugh "...Their "own" folly, there's nothing to stop me."

He thought for a moment.

"Pity about that mare, thought..." he mused "I'll have to make up for her, after all the stuff I put her through to achieve my goal. Poor thing."

He turned around, ready to take the first bold step into a new world of chaos, when...

Heart attack! Stroke! Quick, give him a triple dose of what's-it's-called...! We're loosing him, WE'RE LOOSING HIM...!

Bowler and Trixie had been there all this time.

The engine had indeed started his motor, but haven't moved an inch - they heard everything!

And right now, the diesel was giving him a very, VERY unimpressed look - there were other feelings in that glare, but he dared not to describe them for himself.

He couldn't read the expression of the mare.

"Charming..." the engine uttered. With a bright spark, the mare used her magic - electricity-based (or shaped), apparently - to make the two pieces of rail underneath Bowler become mobile - along with him...

As the diesel rumbled off, the spirit could only wonder about his intentions that followed.

...Among other things...

"Trixie! Yeah, THAT was her name!"

The booming, yet shrill sound echoed around the castle.

Guards stopped dead in their tracks, as the noise vibrated within the palace walls.

"What is that awful din?" one asked.

"That sound..." Luna muttered. The blast eventually reached the throne room, and got the two regal sisters into Modus Operandi.

"It's Bowler!" Alexei exclaimed "The Hell is HE doing here?!"

"And how?" Celestia pondered "There weren't any train tracks laid in--..."

She cut off, as realization sank in.

Guards jumped aside.

The most stubbornest maids that remained in the castle suddenly found the ceiling more comfortable... And peaceful...

A real triumvirate of Gods, rushing through the halls, akin to the northern wind cutting through the fields of the Heavens.

Soaring through corridors and gangways like a bolt of lightning, the world hearing the thunder seconds after.

One stripe of darkness and moonlight, slicing the air.

One ribbon of light and solar flare, burning through space.

One, curve-less line of knowledge and technology, crackling across time and space.

Working as one, on their goal, faster than wind or thought.

Around the corner, heels and hooves shriek. Sparks fly towards the sky, and the smell of rain, ozone and electricity fills the air.

They head for the door - NOTHING can stop them--!

BLAM!

...Apart from the door...

"Ow."

"Exactly my thoughts."

"You nicked that from my mouth."

Slowly, they peeled themselves of from the door.

"Should've opened the bloody thing first..." Alexei muttered, molting his broken glasses back into their original shape and place.

"Yes, in hindsight, that would've been a good idea..." the Princess of the Day agreed, nursing her bleeding nose with magic.

"Retrospect for the win..." Luna uttered, after snapping her jaw back into it's place "Where did you get the glasses from, anyway?"

"Oh, these?" he asked, slipping the eyepieces back in front of his eyes. They had a thin, black frame, oblong lenses that were barely bigger than his trapezoid-shaped eyes.

The strangest thing the two alicorns noticed that, for once, they could tell his irises apart from his pupils, as the formers had changed color: they became lighter, no longer black, but metallic gray.

"I actually use them quite a lot..." he explained "But right now, they became essential."

The two great ponies exchanged looks.

"Why?" Luna asked, at long last.

The stickly figure stared at the ground, his eyes covered by the shadow his beret cast over them. Finally, he looked up, fixing his glasses again - conveniently hiding the flare in his eyes, that made them grow brighter, once more.

"Your majesties... My dear friends..." he uttered.

The air grew silent.

"The great gears of fate began to rotate, after such long eons of idling. The Elements of Harmony had protected Equestria, and this planet, this world along with it. However, Harmony had grown weaker. It became profligate, biased and half-hearted, over the turns of the day and the night. The Heavenly Balance, and the Hellish Monotony, ceases to exist. There's turmoil above, and decay below."

He paused...

"Purgatory is heated to it's limit, yet threatened to freeze..."

His glasses literally glowed, as they reflected light... Or... Was there something that gave of the light... Behind them?

"In planes closest to this world, there's two other. One is distant, obscure, filled with corruption, deceit and decay, yet enjoying a fate it cannot afford, as the pretty gallantry of mortals feed gods to arrogant or unattached to even care about the world - two in particular. Both immortal, one ruling the Heavens, the other running Hell. Father and son, who kept up their game since Creation: one makes rules, the other defies them, creating worlds in their paths."

His gaze darkened.

"Their rule is coming to an end. Mortals will eventually overthrow both God and Satan of that world, for they are not one of them - and not willing to understand them, either."

The two mares looked at him in deep silence. There was a certain might behind his words, that grabbed hold of their attention more than anything.

He went on.

"The engines came from a world that satirizes the former: it's ugly side overexposed, whilst the brighter side is distorted. For the beings of the other world, this parody of a dimension would be a cynic's paradise, and comic Hell for the likes of you. And then, there's this world: pure, yet, corruption had began to take shape and form here as well. However, fortunately... Your Elements of Harmony, plus two more, also seem to be the Elements of Defiance as well. And the engines themselves are the Elements of Hatred. The two sides equalize each other, and prepare one another for the coming of the dark meridian - the Elements of Loathing. As leaders of the nations of both Defiance and Hatred, and, as gods, we must aid them on their training, until they master their powers to the extremes. But, like in other, similar case, Fate itself becomes our trainer, throwing obstacles in our way, always pursuing us. Things won't get any easier... But we shall overcome them - friends come along the way, and even our biggest enemies can turn out to be our greatest allies."

He turned to face the door.

"But, for now..."

The Princesses held their breath.

"How the Hell are we gonna get out of here?" he uttered, as the two alicorns released an exasperated sigh "The handles are gone, and so are the joints! This door is now a wall!"

"Guys... Ya 'ear' da'?"

"Yeah... That's Bowler's horn... Isn' it?"

"Roigh' on, Dash."

"Well... *hic* Ah reckon' we bettah go an... *Urp!* See whu-what that silly filly had gotten herself into this time! Heh!"

"A.J., you're drunk!"

"An' ye're a Timelord!" *hic*

"...Who told you that?"

"Guys, were getting of focus here!"

"The mare's right, everyone! Pull your shit together! We got a crisis at our hands, and since Bowler and Trixie had successfully managed to drag us into it from afar... *sigh* I'll guess we'll have to go and investigate."

"OK."

"Yeah, le's do i'!"

"Super!"

"Good idea indeed!"

"Quiet! Now, eeh... Bert! Take one explosives wagon, two or three howitzers, and a tanker of heating oil. 'Arry, you do the same, but your tanker shall be filled with either Methanol or diesel oil.

Pip, Emma! You stay here with the Breakfather, Vac, Brush and Juggernaut. The rest of us will go to Canterlot!"

"Wait just a second! Who made YOU the leader, you little pleb?!"

"Common sense and decency. Now shut up, you posh twat! We got more important matters to take care of right now! Sparkle! Organize your side as well... Whatever is going on in Canterlot, it's massive - big enough to give reason for a complete evacuation. We'll have to be prepared."

"Right! Alright, everypony! Listen up! Dr. Whooves, Derpy! I want you to stay here - and don't argue now, Doctor! It's YOUR bloody station, after all. Cloud Chaser! Flitter! You stay here as well! You'll drive Pip and Emma - obviously -, and, we'll keep radio contact as long as we can. Since Brush' driver is sick again, I want you to stay here as well, Zecora. You have enough experience to drive him, and I'd bet my flank that your wisdom would be needed in whatever shall ensue. The rest of us shall drive our engines. Spike! You're driving BoZo, and Cromwell shall go solo... Well... With Mr. Bottomsly, that is. And I'm driving Diesel, of course."

"Alright, you heard the mare, lads! We have a flippin' kingdom to save from crap, and we shouldn't waste time - for once... HOP TO, EVERYONE!"

"YESSIR!"

"RIGHT AWAY, MA'AM!"

. . . .

"What do you think...? What could it be?"

"I dunno, but judging from the characteristics of previous, similar events, I'd say that it's one of your Saturday villains, just grown out of proportion and control."

" ..."

"What?"

"...Out of... Control..."

"Hmmm?"

Twilight's eyes widened.

"Mother of Celestia..."

To be continued...

Episode 18 - Deviousness, thy name is...

The convoy of engines roared down the line, each carrying a grim or glum expression.

In their cabs where their drivers, looking edgy and feeling worried.

A turmoil had begun in the country's capital, and it seemed to involve them. Too much for their taste, even.

The cavalcade rumbled down the tracks, their goal clear ahead: the ivory towers of Canterlot.

However, as they approached the bend at the bottom of the mountain, they were in for a surprise:

The city had been substructured!

Originally, Canterlot was built on a small ledge on the side of the mountain's back, no bigger than Ponyville itself. But as it's importance (and, subsequently, it's population) grew, the city, and the plateau that held it grew larger as well, with the use of magic and cleverly designed architecture.

However, it's stability had always been an aching question.

Many events held there had guest number restriction, so as to avoid overloading the "foundation" of the city, which would certainly make it fall down into the depths below.

It was said that the Princesses' biggest fear used to be an earthquake strong enough to dethrone the beautiful capital from it's centuries-old position.

You can probably guess how surprised the engines and their drivers were, upon seeing the great, pile-like rock formation holding Canterlot from underneath, covered in a web of roller-coaster-like train tracks, with the original, subtle tunnel - which opened to the serpentine running up the mountainside, and into the city, being the only quick entrance for heavy-weight freight and passenger trains - gone.

In case you CAN'T imagine how surprised they were, here's a hint:

"WHUUUAAAAT THE FACK?!"

...That surprised.

"'o' th' blu'y 'ell a' we s'ppos'd t' ge' up dere?!" 'Arry snapped.

"We COULD fly..." Rainbow muttered, but upon noticing the disappointed looks on the faces of her friends, she corrected herself "I mean, I could fly up there... But..."

She flew close to new mountains, only to nearly plummet to the ground - she pulled back in the last second, a flew back to the others.

"There are some heavy upper drafts here..." she explained "They keep pushing me down. So, flying's out as well."

Ponies and engines exchanged looks.

"Well, I guess have no choice..." Diesel uttered "We'll hate to climb this hill..."

"Climb?" Rarity asked.

"Oh, not you, you oversized marshmallow!" the shunter snapped "I meant US. The tracks seem to run up the side of the hill, all the way..."

"All we have to do is avoid the impossible bits." Derek added, looking at the loops and sharp bends on the lines above.

"I' won' be easy..." Spamcan muttered, now sobered up "Hope ya gals ar' rea'y, cuz we 'ave a feelin' 'ho's behin' all o' dis."

The mares, the dragonling and the griffon gazed up at the twisty tracks leading up to the castle.

"It's Discord, isn't it?" Rarity asked.

"We're pretty sure..." Derek replied.

The drivers shuddered.

Twilight shut her eyes, and sighed.

"OK..." she uttered, finally "Let's do this."

Several tracks ran up the newly formed mountain side, but all three of the original main line tracks ran into a bottleneck at the very bottom, which meant that they could only go one by one after each other.

The tracks ascended roughly, and the rails were slippery.

Thanks to his strong traction rods and wheel tires, Diesel could handle the incline with ease. Spamcan and Derek, who came after him, had a low-leveled points of gravity, and thus, managed with little effort as well.

But Old Stuck-Up found the task harder than he expected: his wheels kept slipping at every half meters, and with every inch he gained, he lost ten. In short, he was falling behind.

"What the...?! What's with these soddy rails?!" he snapped "I can't get a bloody grip!"

"Same here!" BoZo growled at the end of the line "Someone had botched them up!"

"How can you mess up railway tracks?" Pinkie Pie muttered "They're just pieces of metal!"

"Yes, but if done WRONG, like in this case, their surface becomes too smooth!" Steamie explained. He himself was having trouble moving forward. The incline got steeper with every turn of the wheel, and the engines were loosing their grip.

"We have to link together!" CoBo exclaimed.

"Wha' fo'?" 'Arry asked. He and Bert, (with Rainbow Dash in the latter's cab) were doing fine, even though they had to wait behind Stuck-Up, who had came to a complete stop, struggling not to slip back.

"That's the only way we can get up easily!" Derek reasoned "Well... Unless you two wanna push Stuck-Up."

"Loi'e 'ELL we want!" 'Arry growled "C'mon, Ber'! Cou'le u'!"

Soon enough, all the engines were coupled together.

Those who struggled to move could now advance, helping out the others who provided the traction.

Still, the real obstacle was just ahead:

The lines looked like the lovechild of roller coaster and maze - twists and turns on every corner, loops and bumps, with random launch ramps and fire rings to top it off - and God knows what else!

"This'll be a long one!" Twilight sighed.

"You bet." her engine growled.

"What. The. BUCK?!"

A set of dark blue hooves rammed at the wooden wall that was once a door.

"Luna, CALM DOWN!" the older alicorn shouted "Brute force clearly won't help us right now! We have to find a way to open it!"

"But HOW?!" the younger princess snapped "The bucking GOD of CHAOS is roaming out there, doing Faust-knows-what, and all we're gonna do is sit here and play puzzles?! Buck that! I'm gonna knock this manure to the ground, even if it KILLS me!"

"It probably will..." Alexei muttered. He had been observing the door-turned-blockade for some time by now.

Celestia said nothing.

She was too shocked to see her sister so unrobed of herself - she was usually the more calm and collected, always trying the authoritative, logical approach first, unlike her, who was always more emotional, cathartic, even, but authoritative as well.

Alexei, on the other hoof, avoided all excess reminder of his rank, position and overall control, and instead relied purely on logic, instinct, imagination and cognitive skills, applying a certain quick-witted creativity to hard tasks that both princesses (along with Prince Blueblood, and vast amount of the Canterlot upperclass (once the aristocracy), capitalist and industrial magnates) yearned to learn.

Right now, her sister was fuming with an impotent rage, while her brain raced like the Wonderbolts, but with the usefulness of an ancient, clockwork machinery: the smaller, ineffectual gears spinning fast, while the bigger cogs barely moved.

She glanced at the Wanderer-turned-Controller.

He once showed them what he described as "a basic, cheap computer". It was sizable, compound device with many parts that hogged over an entire tabletop - a big, boxy thing with a black window described as a "monitor", a set of lettered and numbered buttons, like the keyboard of a typewriter, conveniently named as a "keyboard", a small, oviform piece of plastic with flat bottom (with a ball on it's center), and two streamlined buttons on top, called a "mouse", all of which devices were connected via cable to a big, oblong box with many dial-powered slots and two big buttons, called the "power unit and motherboard with driver, CD and DVD-ROM players".

At first, it made no sense. It looked like some bleak toy for foals...

But then, Alexei turned it on...

And did one month's worth of paperwork in one hour - no officialism, no delay, no red-tape, just pure, streamlined, made-for-the-customers, "ergonomic" bureaucracy.

The machine, described as "Home computer system", enabled the tall figure to do ALL of the Royal Court's paperwork that had been waiting completion for years. It took him two hours.

The Princesses could only stare with awe - along with a couple dozen of office workers and onlooking maids and soldiers.

The machine could play music - with two speakers attached, play motion picture, had it's own drawing, animating, music and film producing board (all part of a certain "multimedia port"), and had several small games on it - the most popular being the games of Solitaire and Chess, the latter played against the computer itself.

But the most important part was the writer and document creating "programs", which enabled the creation of such rapid work Alexei produced.

Now, he did explained that he was "very skilled with the creation and handling of such machinery", and that "he had a great amount of experience", not to mention that he BUILT the thing from scratch (summoning the ready-to-use parts out of thin air), under the course of a minute.

He tried to explain how the miraculous machine worked - the bottom line is, it was far more advanced than ANYTHING on presumably the entire planet.

A cheap, out-of-date, very basic computer!

It didn't even had Internet connection - whatever that was - installed, according to the Traveler.

But even such "simple" machine seemed like something out of a science-fiction novel, which reflected Alexei's state as well - he was unreasonably sapient, and as such, his logic, ideas, general way of thinking, and his mind was far beyond the capabilities of the Princesses, let alone the common equine.

If Celestia's brain ran on clockwork, then his probably used integrated circuits, microchips, and whatnot - he did mentioned a lot of things (most of which only Luna was able to understand in the first case, so everyone asked her to explain the figure's words later on) for comparison.

And if Celestia had clockwork, Alexei had electronics and integrated circuits, then Luna probably had electric circuits and cathode tubes - most of which seemed to be close to bursting right now.

"GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!" she roared, running at the door with her horn fizzing with dark magic.

"Sister? Luna... Lulu, STAPH!" the white mare had to use both her wings to stop her maddened sibling.

As her wings folded out, Alexei's eyes lit up.

He walked up to the door, and, as silence fell upon them once the Princesses stopped bickering, he uttered a phrase:

"Open, Sesame!"

The door vanished into thin air. The dark, cloudy sky was revealed beyond the door frame.

As the two regal sisters collected their jaws from the floor, Alexei smirked.

"Old-school, eh? This should be entertaining..".

A smaller plateau came into view after the last turn.

The city itself was a few more levels above.

"Well, ah hav' ta admit... He did a mighty fine job raising this hill..." Applejack muttered "Every time Ah look'd at Canterlot from th' orchard, Ah was 'fraid tha' it'll come tumblin' down th' mountainside th' next second."

"You too?" Fluttershy asked "I thought I was the only one bothered about this."

"Half of Equestria has the same fear, girls..." Twilight explained, matter-of-factly.

"...ANYWAYS." Spamcan interrupted "As goo' as he was wi'h th' hill, he's STILL pre'y much a fookin' noob wi'h th' rails..."

"I think he made them this way on purpose..." Derek muttered.

"...I 'no', ya twit, I was jus' tryin' t' insul' him..."

"Oh."

"We can stop on that small plain, guys!" Twilight exclaimed "It even has multiple sidings!"

She suddenly found herself being thrown towards the back of the cab - the idea of a rest WITHOUT having to watch each others' ass (with neither Pip or Emma present) was too great for the engines to resist.

A few minutes later - once their motors cooled down - they were ready to depart once again, when...

"Guys... Isn't that... Bowler?"

"Oh my gosh... Where's his face?!"

"...Dat's his arse..."

"Oh."

Sure enough, Bowler came, running "rear" cab first, stopping conveniently in an empty siding, with Trixie jumping out of his cab as soon as he came to a complete halt.

"Girls!" she exclaimed, as she galloped towards the others.

"Trixie! You're alright!" Rainbow Dash smiled, while thinking to herself "Now, why does that dissatisfy me?"

"Girls, I gotta tell you something!" Trixie explained.

But then, Diesel suddenly smiled.

"Well, we got them, safe and sound..."

His smile melted...

"CAN WE GO NOW?!"

"Obviously not!" Twilight declared.

"BUT WHYYYYYYYYY?!" Nearly EVERYONE asked.

"BECAUSE we're the Elements of Harmony." she reminded her friends "Thus, WE'RE the only ones who could stop Discord!"

"Really?" Bowler asked "Then how come he's free again? The Elements didn't stopped him the first time, when the Princesses used them, it only encased him in stone, and put him on hold. Then you performed the same thing, and now, he remained stoned for an even shorter time!"

Worried expressions spread on the mares' faces. Spike and Gilda exchanged looks.

"Your point?" Twilight asked.

"The Elements won't work!" Diesel declared "We'll have to think of something else."

"Oh, glad you realized that! I shouldn't waste time with explanation, then!"

The mares span around, and the engines gazed up.

"Speaking of devil..." Stuck-Up muttered.

Floating near above them was the draconequus.

He smirked, amused by the sight:

A group of frowning living machines and cross little ponies.

How delightful it is to have an audience for chaos!

Of course, he was extra careful not to make eye contact with either Trixie or the green diesel. Mostly because the two were glaring daggers at him in way that just... Disturbed him.

"Discord!" Twilight snapped.

"Yeeees?" he grinned "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Oh, we WERE." Rarity growled "When you were no more than a garish lawn ornament!"

"Oh." the spirit pretended to be hurt "Is that soooo? You rather see me as a statue, unable to move, unable to scratch myself, and suffering for an eternity, for a wittle bit of chaos?"

The mares took aback, but the diesels just scoffed.

"Well, God sends you to Hell for an eternity, if you commit sin in that, let's say, eighty years of your life..." Cromwell muttered.

"Life's unfair to us, so why should we be fair to anyone else?" BoZo asked.

Discord sighed. He expected the rest of the machines to be just as bitter and snooty as the green one, but THIS much? And... While the mares were visibly angry about his presence, the engines just looked... Unimpressed...

Not sniffy, just...

They didn't find him much of an issue.

That's usually a good thing, but now...

He had to think of something.

"Perhaps a bit of rain would lighten your mood." He smirked, snapping his fingers.

Soon enough, the clouds turned pink, and chocolate rain began to fall.

Instantly, Pinkie smiled and opened her mouth, trying to catch as much of the brown drops as possible. The others just kept glowering at him, the diesels remaining unimpressed.

Then one by one, they started their engines.

Diesel glanced at Pinkie.

"Had your fill, Pink?"

Pinkie raised a hoof, and after a few seconds, she finished, licking her mouth.

"Yep!"

"Then get inside the cabs. All of you." the shunter declared. The mares proceeded.

The spirit was wondering - what were they up to?

Suddenly, the diesels' motors revved up, and backfired - in some cases, actual fire came out as well.

Dark, murky smoke rose from their exhausts, reaching up into the clouds, turning them gray, then black. Soon enough, the rain changed color - it became black as well, and more dense.

Spamcan stuck out his tongue.

"Oi! Che' ou' dis shi', guys!" he exclaimed "We ma'e i' rai' grade-A hea'in' oil!"

Stuck-Up stuck out his tongue as well.

"You know what? He's right!"

Soon, all engines were sticking their tongues out, trying to catch the now "ideal" rain.

Discord stood in the downpour, looking positively dreary, his fur soaked with the falling petrochemical, as he frowned.

Begrudgingly, he snapped his fingers again, and the clouds vanished.

Diesel smirked, as the drivers exit their cabs once more.

"Not so funny if it happens to you, isn't it?" Derek asked with a guileful smile.

A low growl came from the draconequus in reply, which made the jet black shunter raise an eyebrow - but just slightly.

"What's the matter, o lord of Chaos?" he muttered "Can't stand a bit of... Disorder?"

"Sum' Chaos Go'..." Bert grumbled "Ca' eve' man u' t' face his own creasun'..."

They chuckled about that for a bit.

Meanwhile, Diesel eyed up the spirit.

"So... THIS is what you were afraid of?" he asked, sounding very unimpressed indeed "A freak of nature that looks like the result of having the remainder of a bunch of animals put in a blender?"

His eyes darted from Twilight to Discord and back.

"Really?"

"Well, he IS the Spirit of Chaos." Rarity muttered.

"More like the Spirit of Mindfuckery..." CoBo uttered "We've seen what you did back there, lad, and THAT'S NOT Chaos!"

"Just the the demented brainfarts of a sick mind..." Stuck-Up declared.

By now, the draconequus was snarling mad.

"Hrrrrr..." he growled "What do a few deformed metal boxes on wheels know about chaos?! All YOU can do is roll around on the rails and release noxious fumes!"

"You got THAT right." Cromwell smirked "And even though we're nothing more than machines, we still tower over you!"

"What?!"

"Yeeees..." Diesel smirked "For a supposed God of Chaos, you sure are pathetic, aren't you?"

Discord glared as the engine went on:

"You claim chaos and disharmony as your weapon, yet you're unable to use it: you change the idle landscape and mess with the minds of sentient beings. But that's all. No world burning away in flames, no new, revolutionary society living peacefully without central control, and no haphazardly coexistence of all things! Just some cheap visual effects and disturbed ponies. THAT is your chaos?"

"All you do is make a mess of things." CoBo declared "You bring excess surreality and tasteless dadaism into the world of physics, and bend the psyche of great minds, so that they may jump as you whistle. Calculating, self-seeking demagogy, dementia and hedonistic ignorance of common sense and decency - that's what you are all about!" he finished, sourly.

"No majestic monumentality despite the metaphoric and literal vastness of your talent, no grace from a being who's expected to be the wisest of all, wielding the oldest order in existence as a tool." Derek uttered "HOW can you expect us to respect you, when you live with no reason to provide it with?"

"Ya fail." Spamcan explained, as simple as harsh "A' life, fo' ya hav' none, a' chaos, fo' ya mess i' up, an' a' relationships, 'cuz, as fa' as WE 'no', ya fail'd t' score..."

The spirits eyes widened for a moment, before an even more ferocious glare appeared on his face.

The engines smirked.

"So much fo' a GO' o' Chaos..." Bert snickered "Ya're jus' a massive gi', loi'e any o' us!"

"Worse, even..." BoZo chuckled "He's as selfish as redundant. WE, at least, have SOME use."

"Use? YOU?!" Discord had to laugh.

"We brought this falling kingdom back on top of the world economy in a matter of months." the black Class 08 smirked "And it'll stay like that for a long, long time. How long did it took you to loose it all? A few seconds? A minute, perhaps?"

"Easy com's, easy goes, I guess..." Spamcan put in, smirking as well.

Discord just glowered.

The engines' smirk grew even wider, as they exchanged looks with each other, and their confused drivers.

"Say... How 'bout a song?" Bowler asked, his voice slick with glee.

"A song?" Trixie WAS puzzled.

"Yeah! A song!" BoZo added "Like the songs you sing on every other event, for no apparent reason other than to set the mood: all cheery and vigorous."

"Well, they DO give our work a pace..." Applejack pondered.

"Yes, well, how about we sing one. Right now!" Cromwell smiled. All the engines seemed excited.

"Right now?" Twilight asked "What for?"

"You'll see!" Diesel grinned, before looking to the side "Maestro!"

"Maestro?" the ponies thought, looking around "Who is he talking to?"

Suddenly, a tune started to play. It was loud and obnoxious, yet catchy. Trumpets, clarinets, saxophones, drums...

It sounded just like a parody!

"But... We don't know the lyrics!" Twilight exclaimed.

"Don't worry. Just sing along." Bowler smiled, as the drivers went to their respective engines (with Spike going to BoZo).

"I think I just know what to sing..." Diesel smirked "Don't you, guys?"

"Oh, we can probably guess..." Stuck-Up snorted.

"Well, shut up, I'm telling you anyway!" the shunter replied, then cleared his throat:

"You're a mean one, Mister Git!
You're su~u~u~uch a ma~a~a~assive so~o~o~od!
You're as likable as scurvy,
As attractive as accord,
Mister Gi~i~i~IT!"

Twilight joined in, mimicking the words of her engine:

"I'd rather be ran over by
Mister Personal's qua~a~a~ad!"

"You still can't sing, I see..." the express engine muttered.

"Up yours, you posh twat!"

"Who's Mr. Personal?" Rarity asked.

"Later, dear..." Stuck-Up replied "For now, it is our turn!"

"You're a master,
Mister Git,
(Yes, you are!)
Of grubby little runts!
You're as ancient as the dinosaurs,
Yet go on bargain hunt,
Mr. Gi~i~i~it...

I've never seen a more
magnificent CU--!"

He was cut off by a backfire, as smoke rose from his exhausts.

"Oh, not again!"

"Tough lu', Stu'-Up!" Spamcan smirked.

"Well, it's YOUR turn, anyway..." the Class 40 replied.

"Oh? Sweet."

"Wait, whut?" Applejack muttered...

"Ya're a BASTARD, Mistah Gi'!
Yer head's an em'ty HOLE!
Ya revel i' ev'ry stupid shi',
Then giv' us thei' hundre'fol',
Mister Gi~i~i~it...

"No point tryin' ta speak ta yer soul,
'cuz i's alrea'y so~o~o~old!"

"Nice singing, but the lyrics flopped a bit..."

"Well, i's yer tu'n no'..."

"Right, ehhem!"

"Wait... I can't sing!"

"So much for "Great and Powerful"!"

"...Shut up..."

"You're a monster,
Mister Git...
Your mi~i~i~nd is fi~i~i~illed with go~o~o~ore!
You deal with the dirty deed,
While we're left to do your chores,
Mister Gi~i~i~iT!"

Hope you wake up with a pressure mine
in front of your do~o~o~or!"

"No' DA'S sum lyri's fo' ya..."

"Yeah, you're pretty good at this, guys!"

"Okay, ou' tu'n..."

"Is it?"

"Yeah..."

"...So AWESOME!"

"Ye're a miser, Mista' Gi'!
O'ly do~o~u~ugh ca' ma~a~a'e ya ke~e~e~en!
You lead the lane in crooked games,
and your ways are beyond mean,
Mister Gi~i~i~it!

The only thing I yearn to see now:
a silva' pla'e wi'h ye' sple~e~e~en!"

"Ouch."

"This is getting a bit out of hand."

"Are we gonna do something 'bout it?"

"..."

"CoBo?"

"...Sure, why not?"

"You're a blaster, Mister Git!
Your lo~o~o~oks are bu~u~u~rned and tho~o~o~orn!
You slack away the dull day,
Yet, you end up gray and worn,
Mister Gi~i~i~it...

The only solution we could think of:
Make yourself never-bo~o~o~orn!"

"Ummm... That's not... Exactly nice..."

"No, it certainly isn't..."

"Well, we didn't accomplish THAT, but hey, the songs still going!"

"Yeah, and it's time to her you two!"

"Oh, super!"

"Oh... My..."

"You're an angel,
Mister Git...
You're bri~i~i~ighter tha~a~a~an the su~u~u~un!
Long since you have lost your wings,
and your lumen's less than one,
Mister Gi~i~i~it...

You're still painful to look at,
No surprise that you're shu~u~u~unned!"

"A bit mild. You got me surprised in the beginning there..."

"Oh, did we?"

"Well, I wasn't surprised by Fluttershy, but when you started..."

"Oh well. I think... It's your turn, Steamie!"

"Yipee! This is going to be soooo much fun!"

"Oh, God..."

"OK, here we go!"

"You're a caster, Mister Git!
Your ha~a~a~nds; A pa~a~i~ir of sieves!
Our efforts matter not to you,
you nick our every piece,
Mr. Gi~i~i~IT!

The only thing we can compare you with
is a ragtag of thi~i~e~eves!"

"Well... That wasn't that bad..."

"Yeah, but no thanks to Steamie! You haven't heard him sing on his own, right?"

"Unfortunately, I did... Uuuugh!"

"Anyways... Isn't it your turn, BoZo?"

"...I think it is! Ready, kid?"

"Sure am!"

"You're a lean one,
Mister Git...
You're li~i~i~imbs are thi~i~i~in as twi~i~i~igs!
Your heart is dark and hairy,
And your manners are those of pigs,
Mister Gi~i~i~iT!

We can tell you're not enjoying this,
yet, you provoke out these gi~i~i~igs!"

As the music kicked full notch, as the engines fell about laughing. The mares, the griffon and the dragon couldn't help it either.

Even though the song was about a completely different person, it fit Discord to a tee.

And the feeling of fear escaping in the form of jeer was most relieving.

"Alright, let's wrap this up!" Diesel announced, and his peers paid attention (for once).

"If you ask the other engines,
there's no denia~a~a~a~a~a~a~a~a~a~a~a~a~a~a~a~a~a~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A~A--!"

"About WHAT?!" Discord interrupted.

The record scratched, and the engines and their drivers all gazed at him, looking bemused.

"Don't be more of an idiot than you already are!" that's what Diesel wanted to say, but he was surprised to hear his driver, Twilight say the necessary sentence. It made him smile inwards - all that obnoxiousness-, and gritty realism-coated wisdom he tried to pass on had finally made it's way into the mare's thick head - she was actually disrespecting the Saturday morning villain!

That's already a huge leap forward!

"It IS quite obvious..." the shunter smirked "That we all think that..."

And the others took a breath as well..

You're
a
massive big
SO~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~OD!

As the tune ended, an even bigger roar of laughter escaped the diesels, and the drivers as well.

Ponies fell to the ground.

Gilda had to grab hold of CoBo's frame to avoid landing on the ground.

The engines themselves shook slightly in their guffaw, their horns involuntarily going off.

Discord snarled, a low growl rising from the back of his throat.

"Git, ey?!" he retorted "Fancy coming from line of scrapheap and glue factory refugees!"

He gravely underestimated the diesels' gall.

"Ah, smag off, you botched up Chinese Dragon! You had your fun 'till now, but it's time to face reality: you've proven to be subpar!"

"S-Subpar?"

"Well, if a bunch of "scrapheap and glue factory refugees" can beat you in a battle of wits with a song...!"

And with that, they continued laughing, as the draconequus glowered at them, before teleporting away to sulk in the palace.

As he disappeared, slowly but surely, the laughter died down.

After a breather, the mares turned to their engines.

"You never told us that you guys could sing!" Rainbow Dash exclaimed.

"We can." CoBo acknowledged "But not too well. Anyways, I think we should be going."

"Where?" Spike asked "Home?"

"Obviously not!" Diesel declared "Think clearly, you dolt! We're heading for the castle!"

"But you said..."

"That was BEFORE I realized that you actually stand a chance against that mutagen-tester."

"Mutagen-what?!"

"Discord!"

"Oh. Ooooh."

"And what makes you so sure about that, darling?" Rarity asked.

"He came to us, head on. We had no defense. He was on the top of the world." the Class 08 uttered "Yet, we managed to bring him down. You managed to bring him down! The gloves are off now!"

"How did we defeat him?"

"Oh! Oh! I know!" Pinkie smiled, flailing her front leg "We've laughed at him!"

"More than that." Stuck-Up smirked "You went beyond laughter. You were jeering at him, fighting fire with fire."

"His constant teasing and trolling couldn't be ignored." CoBo explained "He has too much power that can gather your attention, so your only option was to fight back, his way: be disorienting, disrespect the authority of the obvious, and be harsh and vulgar."

"Wait a minute! He's not vulgar." Twilight exclaimed "In fact, he has a pretty refined dictionary..."

"Yeah, he may do." BoZo hissed "But we don't. And still, we defeated him!"

"...You? I'm getting confused."

Diesel rolled his eyes, then gazed at the mare once more.

"Look, Sparkle... Consider this a test, a live test if you prefer. Under the last few months, you have been training for this event, this final exam of your skills, wit, and obscenity. Time for you to take the test."

"...What sort of test?" the mare asked, after a bit of silence.

Diesel put on his typical, nefarious grin.

"We wanna see..." he muttered "If you're Other Railway enough to deal with that messed-up git."

"I'd say she's ready..." Cromwell grinned.

"Wait!" Bowler called out. The other's froze.

"Wha' i' i'?"

"I've something important to say!"

"About what?" Derek asked.

"Discord!" Trixie exclaimed "He revealed one of his schemes to us!"

NOW the others were paying attention.

To be Continued...

Episode 19 - Showdown at Canterlot Central

He arrived at the Castle gates, turning back once more to admire his work... Only to feel disappointed.

Rather than the usual, bright scenery with imaginative, Laissez-faire structures and liberated physics, his work now seemed bleak and lifeless: barren, dark rocks supporting the castle from underneath...

Dark clouds covering the sky, with lightning flashing in the distance, enveloping the landscape in a pale light, thunder rolling in, audibly growing louder and more shrill with each rumble, testifying the approaching storm.

"What a gloomy day..." he muttered, no joy in his voice...

Oh well!

He'll fix it once the deed is done - there are things to be dealt with, and it's all up to him now.

"Le sigh... No chaos without effort..."

He turns around, facing the gates.

And stumbles back in surprise!

A smile creeps onto his muzzle.

"Came before to meet me? How courteous of you!" he sneered.

The goddesses just glare, their glances... Inscrutable?

For once, he's genuinely surprised to see them. They appeared unpredictable, a rare feature, considering their roles as maintainers of Harmony across the land, all over Equestria.

"Discord." the younger one spoke sternly. He smiled inwardly. Luna had always been the adorkable, try-hard little geek. Studious, always gazing at her own stars, trying to see deeper into the cosmos, every time she glanced through the lenses of her telescope.

She had an eagle eye, even in the dark - as expected from the Princess of the Night -, and a mean buck - surprisingly enough, she could be quite hot-headed if you hit a nerve. And by 'hot-headed', think of the phrase: "ETERNAL DOMINEERING QUEEN OF HELLFIRE!"

Anyways, she glared at him with a scornful look.

While she wasn't as dominant as... Her alter-ego, she was definitely the more authoritarian of the sibling. Too strict for his taste!

Her sister, on the other paw...

He really had to work hard to suppress the warm smile.

It was really ironic, now that he thought about it - his greatest nemesis, who also stood the closest to his heart. She was as beautiful as ever - magnificent, pearly white fur which contrasted that colorful, flowing mane of hers. Both sisters looked fine, very elegant and regal (if a bit preppy) - but out of the two of them, Celestia still stood out. As the saying goes, "you can stare into the sun, but not at her".

She was always the more easy-going than the rest of the aristocrat posse up ol' Canterlot, and DEFINITELY more laid-back than her sister. She was kind, humorous, and caring. Not to mention that she had an amazing ffffffffface!

But, it's the soul and heart that matters, not the body. Or so he heard.

"So, you're the one..."

A new voice, presenting the new arrival.

He stepped forward from between the Princesses. Tall, scrawny... Bipedal.

His face was unreadable, and lacked noteworthy characteristics - apart from his eyes, which were trapezoid shaped and had very dark irises and deep pupils, half covered by a pair of oblong, shaded glasses. He was wearing a dark gray military uniform, consisting of tunic suit with matching trousers and steel boots, a black beret adorning his head, with a pin on it's front: a red X in a red circle, like a traffic sign, and the same thing printed on the chest of his tunic, above his heart, with the number 11612 beneath it.

He stopped a few steps in front of the two mares, staring at him, not blinking once, his face carrying a soft glare.

"Ah, you must be the new guy..." the draconequus smirked "Hope you enjoyed your stay. But, right now, I have to advise you to leave, A.S.A.P., 'cuz I'M back, and there simply isn't enough room for the two of us."

"I can't leave." the figure replied dryly "I have to stay here."

"Well then, just sit back, and enjoy the show!" Discord grinned "I can assure you, it'll be magnificent. After all, when was the last time you've seen pure chaos?"

The figure, as if considering his offer, stared in front of himself, thinking.

He then looked up.

"Well, mom showed the flow and continuity of the perfect, eternal chaos that filled out the newly born world, right in the beginning - the first order Existence had ever seen. It was very... Sightful back then."

He looked back down at the chimera.

"But every other attempt at recreating the true chaos I saw back there were usually failures or fakes."

He narrowed his eyes.

"And I doubt you'll be any different."

Discord's smile turned into a scowl. His tail whiplashed on the ground.

"Oh, I guess you're one of those neigh-sayers who claim my chaos is nothing but 'disorder plus'."

"You got THAT right." the figure nodded.

The spirit cracked a grin.

"Then I guess you'll be glad to hear about the disorder I caused... In the near past..."

"Near past?" Luna asked "But you've stoned until now!"

"Don't underestimate my powers, Luna..." Discord chuckled "Especially when you had seen it's end results."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh. Don't you remember...?" the chimera's smile turned malicious "...The Magic Duel?"

The Princesses eyes widened...

"That was... You?"

"Yeeessss, and everything else that led up to it..." the spirit hissed.

"All that suffering Trixie's been put trough..." Celestia uttered.

"The accidents on the railway..." Luna added.

Discord raised an eyebrow.

"Accidents?"

"WHY?!" the Sun Goddess snapped, snarling at the Chaos God, her mane suddenly resembling flames...

"Well, being imprisoned in stone can make one quite desperate..." the spirit smirked "Especially if your imprisonment lasts for millennias..."

This halted the two princesses, as they looked away, shame and guilt present on their faces.

Yes, some past decisions still stung...

Presently, Alexei cracked a smile as well.

"...Especially if you're constantly suffering from nightmares, right?" he asked.

Discord took aback, while the two sister exchanged puzzled looks.

"That was... You?" the chimera gasped.

"Yes." the figure replied "Consider it a warning."

"Consider... What?" the Princess of the Day asked, her patience growing thin. Alexei paid no heed.

"AS for your little ploy of ruining people's lives for your own gains..." he went on "Well, let's just say..."

His smile turned into a wicked grin.

"...You're one massive git!"

His eyes dilated as realization dawned for him...

"You're... You're with those diesels!" Discord burst out. Again, the princesses exchanged looks, but Alexei silently signaled them to play along.

"So you've met them..." he snickered "Good to know you're trying to catch up..."

"Celestia, what is this?!" the spirit snapped "I did NOT expect such tumble greetings from your humble subjects! First, I get mocked by one of your ponies and a green, recycled industrial gas pipe on wheels! Then, I'm ostracized and jeered at by your own protégé and her friends, old and new, as they seem to have been acquainted with those track-bound greaseballs, and were quick to pick up some of their traits!"

"Good." the elder sister replied "The Elements of Harmony no longer seem to work against you, thus, we've left with no choice, but to result to brute force and sadistic violence."

"We're all set with that." Luna grinned "But the girls needed a bit of toughening up to deal with such a drop of morals and "sudden" change of approach. Oh well, anything to pummel you to the ground."

"They've done nothing that you don't deserve..." Celestia continued "In fact, there's still a lot to be done..."

"So put 'em up, big guy!" the younger sibling cried, getting into fighting position...

Discord looked hurt.

"Well, you two certainly ARE different since the last time I saw you." he grumbled "You're different."

Then, he suddenly smiled.

"...And I like it!"

"You're NOT gonna like it, once we're done with you..." Celestia hissed, preparing herself as well.

It was only now that Discord noticed that they weren't wearing the Royal Jewelry. No tiaras, no neckerchief, no horseshoes...

All naked!

"By the way, we're not the only ones..." Alexei spoke up "The others are on their way..."

"Others?"

"Yeah... You can already hear them..."

He didn't understood.

Then...

He heard them...

The sound of heavy-duty combustion engines, roaring at top speed, echoing in the distance, growing louder and louder.

He glanced back above his shoulders - the tracks lead straight where he was standing!

They all ended around the turntable he was standing on. There was an iron fence surrounding the makeshift "yard", but what good would that do?

He stared at the three deities before him - HIM, the sore thumb.

"You set this up alright..." he muttered, dumbfounded.

Alexei nodded.

"It's time for you to meet the Other Railway!"

A cacophonous chorus of horns cut the conversation short, as the roar grew to an ear-splitting volume.

Around the bend came a large, robust mass of darkness, with fire blazing above. The first of the horde burst trough the fence, utterly demolishing a great portion of it without even a flinch from it's side, it's cohorts continuing the destruction along their way.

As they drew nearer and nearer, Discord broke out in cold sweat...

He gazed at his former friends, and the new guy.

Their face told nothing. They waited.

One by one, the growling silhouettes screeched to a halt around the turntable, quickly hidden by the cloud of thick, black smoke they brought along.

Motors revved and roared, and in the smog, a series of sharp CLANKs could be heard, as the headlights came to life.

The beams cut trough the smoke like white blades, scrolling the area, scanning for the draconequus.

Suddenly, one of the beams caught him, and soon, all the others jumped at him as well - he was in a crossfire of blinding light.

The beams grew thinner and flickered, eventually fading away as the fog lifted...

It revealed a row of engines, all glaring daggers at him, a vengeful look in their eyes...

Doors opened and slammed shut, and from between them, came their drivers - the semi-circle growing thicker, as they advanced.

Now, the turntable Discord created was large, with many tracks leading to it, and unlike with other turntables, which were only a set of rails bridged over a circular well, held up by a giant axle which also turned it (an the engine on it) around, this one was a whole platform: a large, disk shaped concrete table with a set of tracks dividing it in the middle, with only a thin line between it and the edges of the well. It was apparently (and quite fortunately for Discord) set between two tracks, disabling the engines from rolling onto it.

But that didn't stopped the mares, the griffon or the dragon...

They came, drawing nearer and nearer to him with the manners of a panther getting ready to pounce...

Heads lowered, horns pointing forward, wings raised.

Usually, such a sight wouldn't have bothered Discord - lotsa ponies used to challenge him when he reigned over the land, vast amount of them even more pissed off than the equines before him.

But these mares...

There was something different about them.

One thing being, of course, that they were the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony - all six of them, plus one, one of the many lost Elements. What, you honestly thought there were only SIX of them?

And so was the dragonling and the griffon that tagged along.

However, the magic of the Elements was not present...

Instead, a different, far more wile and vindictive, enraged power radiated from them, while the diesels...

They were like black holes, their robust bodies soaking up every amount of magic around them, leaving only a certain, unsettling emptiness.

No matter what they were built of, they were the pure antithesis of any sort of magic he had witnessed before - apart from the magic that radiated from their drivers, which seemed to make a link between them and their engines.

Puzzled by the phenomenon, it was only now that the chimera noticed something which they all had in common:

A positively murderous look on their faces.

His fur and feathers stood on edge.

"They want my blood..."

The Princesses and the Controller had also noticed the magical bonds between the locomotives and their drivers, and observed it with hidden curiosity.

The most strongest bond was between Twilight and Diesel, with Trixie and Bowler being right behind them. Rainbow Dash's and the Iron Twins' bond was third, with Gilda and CoBo right behind them.

Applejack and Spamcan came fifth, with Rarity and Old Stuck-Up sixth and Spike and BoZo being the seventh strongest. The weakest bond belonged to Pinkie Pie and Steamie: the link between them was very thing and weak, as if only temporary...

They'll have to look into that...

All of engines, even Derek and Steamie, glowered at Discord hatefully. Now that his scheme was unveiled, they had MORE than enough reasons to pummel him into the ground.

Their motors growled, flames rose from their exhausts (burning cinder from BoZo's and Steamie's funnel), as they glared at the draconequus.

Their drivers were more on the furious side - apart from Gilda, who's fur and feathers merely stood on edge in agitation, all of them seem to have lost, or were quickly loosing their cool.

Twilight was, once again, ablaze, her crest and tail a bundle of flames, her fur turned white and her cutie mark and irises blazing red. Her horn was enveloped in a magical fire.

Trixie have undergone the same changes, but in a slightly different form: her mane and tail crackled and glowed with rapidly changing, seizure-inducting electric fire, her fur a cold, bluish white with high-voltage discharges arcing all over it, her irises taking up a piercing, icy blue color. Her cutie mark was still missing. Her horn droned with electricity.

Rarity have gained the same sort of boost: Her body shiny and bright, as if carved out of one, gigantic diamond, radiating a blinding white light, her mane and tail waving in the dark shadows cast by the clouds, flickering like plasma, with an eerie, purple-ish white light, her irises glowing the same way, her cutie mark now appearing as real, different-colored diamonds placed upon her skin. Rows of hexagon-shaped diamonds rotated and flickered around the length of her horn.

Applejack's mane and tail became partially unbound and turned into a deep amber color, and her entire body was slightly blurred, as if it was radiating heat. The concrete beneath her cracked. Her fur, now thicker, varying between harvest and metallic gold color, her cutie mark bright green, with her hat (now white), slightly shading her glowing, amber eyes.

Pinkie Pie looked like as if her 'Diane' alter-ego had turned Super Saiyan - her mane and tail, both shaggy and zig-zagged, now stood on edge, as if being under constant static charge, along with her fur. Her body was also blurred, literally vibrating at a speed where edges and contrasts became vague. Her mane a poignant Fuchsia, glowing with a sharp, Phlox purple light, and her fur was now a shocking, electric pink. Her irises were a deeper blue, but glew like two blue neon sign 'O's, while the balloons of her cutie mark were now neon green and red instead of blue and yellow.

The ground beneath her also cracked and crumbled - she seemed quite vexed.

Fluttershy's eyes were narrowed. Ocassionally, sparks fell from the sides. She held her head low, so her mane casted a shadow over his eyes. She had changed, significantly: her fur had grown thicker, her wings were larger. Her mouth made a scowl, tightly shut, but at the corners of it, her lips crept open, revealing sharpened, jagged grinders. Her crest and tail, usually well combed and smooth, were now disheveled and rough, resembling the leafage of a weeping willow, thorn in the wind, now a bright, glowing blood red color instead of the original pink. Her fur, once a solid, cream color, was now a bright, almost eye-hurting hazard yellow, and her cutie mark appeared to be different as well: instead of three simply detailed, slightly cartoonish butterflies, she had the silhouettes of three Old World Swallowtails, colored in the same manner as her normal cutie mark, but, once again, the colors were brighter or deeper. She heaved, and her wings flared, revealing long, sharp feathers. Her eyes opened wider for a split of a second, as she blinked, revealing that her eyes, too had changed: their color was now a sickly amarath, irises resembling that of snakes, while her pupils were glowing white.

Dry, colorful leaves circled her like butterflies, flying up and down, forming a vortex around her lithe frame. But as soon as they scraped the ground or flew to high above, they caught on fire, burning to crisp, and blown away by the intensifying wind, carried away as ash.

Rainbow Dash had changed as well: Her cyan fur was bleached into a sickly bluish-white, while the colors of her mane and tail became divergent and dissonant, the stripes either too bright or too dim.

Her eyes - irises and pupils - were blazing red, and blurred. She snarled, and her teeth now sharp.

Her wings opened and flapped a few times, growing larger like Fluttershy's, and also gaining a metallic tint, feathers growing long, wide and sharp, the wings' structure seemingly changing into a streamlined, mechanic one. Her crest and tail stood on edge, and reached up to the sky like flames... Not like natural ones, though - not like Twilight's...

They looked like the flames of gas or oil burners - the blazes were sharp and barely wavered in the increasing wind - a tempest was drawing nearer and nearer.

Spike seemed to have suddenly matured, or progressed into his "greed growth" - he was taller, even taller than Gilda, and looked much like the teenage dragons he faced during quest. His eyes now had slit pupils, and the spikes on his spine and head were jagged and sharp, and his scales now like an armor. His body had grown strong and somewhat muscular, his frame resembling that of Mr. Alexei's, or Discord's, albeit loosely in either case. Green flame enveloped his body, circling around his feet, orbiting around his body in the form of fireballs, and snaking down on both of his arms, glowing in the palm of his clawed hands, now clenched into fists. His mouth, muzzle-like, was kept tightly shut. With each step, he left a burn mark on the ground.

Gilda was the only one who seemed unphased by her transformation. Her body was enveloped in a silvery light, her outline enhanced with white, and her fur and feathers had more saturated, deeper colors. Her entire body looked more beastial, and slightly larger than usual, with more muscular, but sleek hind legs, sharper claws and beak, bigger wings and longer feathers. Her pupils were like dark wells, and her irises burned with a golden light. But she kept her cool, and leveled head.

She approached Discord with an oblique path, her eyes following his every movement.

"I see you sent Cromwell back." the figure spoke.

"Yeah. We thought it's best if he informs the others..." the class 08 replied.

"Nice display..." Discord scoffed, anxiety audible in his voice "You practiced this a lot, didn't you?"

"Disdain won't help you..." Luna whispered, her hoof scraping the ground.

"So, this is how you're gonna play?" the draconequus went on, ignoring the alicorn's reply "Twenty against one? That hardly seems fair..."

"Who. The FUCK. Said. That WE'RE. Playing. FAIR?!" Bowler hissed.

"Like you'd deserve it!" Stuck-Up added.

"To tell you the truth, Discord..." Alexei uttered calmly, as he and the Princesses began to charge up their own magic "We originally intended to... Negotiate with you... Talk things over. Come to a common ground, a compromise, if you will. Perhaps make a deal. Accept your return and invite you to help us - Equestria could use someone like you. For once, you have a taste in architecture that would be a real credit to the team. AND, being the "God of Chaos", you also, presumably have some wisdom - and sage advices are always welcome."

Suddenly, the figure's voice became incredibly cold, emotions, like blood, all drawn from his face.

"Yet here you are..." he uttered "During your existence, you've done nothing for the benefit of all. You abused your own powers, and mercilessly tortured the innocent and the guilty, carrying out sentences made by you, upon your judgement. You are the Spirit of Chaos, something that has no master by it's nature. It gives you power that most people would die or kill for. You've no friends, you know no love, and your existence has no point. So here you are... Wasting away."

His voice had grown completely monotonous, and gained a slight buzz, as if it was generated by a machine. Blackness crept up his body, covering his clothes, streamlining his already simple shape. Soon, it reached his head, and his beret disappeared. His body was now nothing, but a black silhouette, his eyes glowing brightly - pale, clear white rectangles, perfectly even, shining like the windows of a building at night.

His form became robust and angular (apart from his head), and he himself was enveloped in a force the chimera couldn't recognize. The magic he was using was both ancient and modern. It was unlike anything he had experienced before.

Carefully, he glanced at the Princesses.

His fears were confirmed.

Both had assumed their raw battle forms.

Celestia's crest and tail were swishing flames of plasma and fire. Her fur glowed, with golden stripes of solar flare arcing across her body. Red marks appeared on her fur, resembling very simply drawn flames, all leading and intensifying in her cutie mark, now coated in various shades of red. Rather than a neckerchief, her royal bracelet was now a robust, streamlined golden chest plate, and her tiara a golden helm, and her horseshoes turned into two-tier, armored golden boots. Yet, her eyes shone blue with what appeared to be Cherenkov radiation, her irises and pupils indeterminable.

Luna's mane and tail were now like nebulae, the number of stars inside of them increased, and constantly changing position, colliding with one another, representing cosmic radiation. Her fur was now as dark as the deepest night, yet, still carried a blue hue, with simply drawn, glowing blue marks spread across it, looking much like simply drawn lightning bolts, once again, leading and intensifying at her cutie mark, now glowing brightly with the same, bluish light. Her Royal Jewelry had transformed the same way her sister's did, but unlike Celestia, her eyes weren't glowing blue. Instead, they were red as the harvest moon.

The draconequus felt cornered.

Each pony had a different sort of painful magic for him - even the griffon and the dragon, and the Princesses!

The engines just growled and hissed in their mechanical ways, glaring daggers at him, ready to strike.

And the figure. Just stood.

Gazing at him.

Emotionlessly.

His eyes darted around - wherever he turned, glares and glowers meet his glance.

There was no escape.

But then...

His mouth curled up into a warped smile.

"Catch me first if ya can!" he said, quickly.

He snapped his fingers.

...Nothing happened.

For a split second, everyone's eyes widened.

Discord, slowly registering that he didn't changed his own location, snapped his fingers again.

...Again, nothing happened.

As the others slowly recovered from the initial shock, the draconequus tried again, snapping his fingers once more.

...And again, nothing happened.

A nasty smirk began to spread on Diesel's mouth, which, like an infection, spread onto all the other engines...

Discord tried, again and again, snapping his finger, hoping that it would induce a teleportation, a random explosion, ANYTHING. He continued, growing more and more frantic.

"Thce he he he he hee..."

A chuckle, that rose into the air like dust blown from it's resting spot by a releasing valve, came from Bert.

"All ou' o' spar'les, ey?" sneered 'Arry, quick to join his brother.

"Well, that's a bit of a bummer" snickered Derek "I was expecting something more..."

"Climatic?" Bowler asked, smirking conceitedly "Don't be delusional."

The chimera's fingers were aching from the attempts, yet, he kept on, as the sound of mocking and jeering slowly made it's way into his ears, like a cloud of poison gas.

This was the worst.

They didn't even bothered to attack him.

They just... Teased him, laughing at his folly.

"It seems that the suppression spell is working." said a monotonous voice.

"Suppression spell?!" the spirit gasped, looking at the dark silhouette. Alexei's body was now completely featureless, apart from the oblong, angular 'eyes' - rectangles of sterile, white light.

"Yes." Celestia whispered, her voice roaring like a thousand fires.

"You see..." the figure went on, hovering closer to him "We are all well aware of your powers, but only I can tell what are your true capabilities."

Discord found himself, backing away towards the center of the turntable, as the silhouette glided towards him.

B̴̸̥̭̰͚̳̯͙̣͕̙͖̙͔̌͋̍͗͠Z̹̬̥̟͍̖̫͇̦̟̟̜͖̐ͭͬ̊͡ͅŽ̶̸̨̧̰̳͖͕̫͙̈́ͮ͆ͩ͒ͦ͐̈ͯͮ̇͠Z̨̛͇̝̹̘̠͖͚͍͔͔̼̘̫͙̹̤̄̃͊͋̒͆ͤ̂ͫ̓̂̂ͅZ̴̪͍̙̯̟̯̼̮͓̩͍͇̻̖̠͍̩͊ͩ͒ͮ̄̌̏ͭ̋̏̍̃̑̊͡T͎̯̰̯̳͈̼̘̪̔̑ͪͯͮ̅̎́ͅ!̢̗̥̰̦̭̟̼͇͙̜̮̮̪̻ͤ̽̀͊̂̂ͧ͋̿͛̂̓ͮ̚͟

Everyone fell silent, as a distortion flashed through the Controller's being - his body, completely and utterly black, like a starless spot in the depths of space, lit up for a moment.

It displayed static, with a painfully loud, white noise, making everyone in his vicinity flinch in an unexplainable gush of pain, anger, sorrow, loathing and disgust.

For a brief moment, the world was horrible, unforgiving place, with little joy or hope to be found, lost somewhere in all the havoc and disorder that defined the very essence of the dying land.

Cities burned, oceans drained, rivers overflowing, the ground infertile and scorched, it's resources exhausted, forests ablaze, mountains crumbling, ponies, dragons, griffons, all living beings dying from pestilence, poisoning, famine or blood loss.

For a brief moment, the world stopped, revealing it's darkest secrets before the engines and their drivers.

Then.

All was normal again.

Discord stood, not noticing the brief, yet scarring change in the scenery.

He never could've noticed.

All he saw was the horrible twist that occurred on the rival god's face.

From too rectangles of light upon the deepest black, his visage changed to monstrosity that the draconequus... Couldn't even describe.

The monolithic darkness was suddenly displaced by a flashy, eye-hurting display of scrambled black and white, accompanied by an ear-hurting noise.

His face...

It pained him to even look at it:

Eyes like dark gashes, oozing a black liquid (blood?) at their edges, pupils shrunken and white as star, shaking. The mouth looked like his lips and the skin around them had been thorn off, revealing sharp, metallic teeth and gum, both completely black, reflecting what little light there was to shine upon them.

It was only a short, brief moment, but the image was burned into his mind.

As the others recovered from the shock, their eyes, once more, fell upon the events unfolding before them.

Alexei drew closer to Discord, his features resurfacing from the darkness of his body, gaining more detail by each passing moment. His emotionless look slowly turned into a glare.

Who... WHAT are you?! - the spirit snapped. The Controller ignored his question, and instead continued where he stopped before, unphased by the moment of eversion:
In order to ensure you wouldn't do anything... Unpredictable... We had to eliminate all but one options for you.

There was a hint of malice in his voice.

Smiles and smirks faded, and one by one, the powerful charge that surged through the mares, the griffon and the dragon died down, reverting them into their original form.

"The suppression spell we used was a three-tier detect-and-repent casting." Luna explained, her voice like the lunar wind "Celestia's magic detected the source. Mine isolated it. Alexei overpowered it."

"Effectively, we disabled you." the figure finished. He stopped, standing still a few meters in front of the draconequus. Albeit his original clothes have returned, he was still greyscale, lacking any colors beside black, white and gray. His eyes were completely dark voids on his head.

Slowly, he turned towards the group.

The wind picked up.

"I recommend that you lot stay out of the way." he spoke softly, his glare slowly turning back to Discord "We'd like to deal with this issue ourselves..."

The next second, a fierce gush of wind blew up thick clouds of dust from the ground. It then proceeded to twist and turn them in the air, making the circle around the chimera, the goddesses and the Controller collectively. As the wind grew stronger, the clouds grew thicker and denser, forming a pillar of darkness around the four deities, completely obscuring them. Then, once they were no longer visible, it stopped.

Before the Mane 6, Trixie, Spike, Gilda, and the Other Railway engines stood a massive tube of asthma-inducting pile of particles and vapors, like a tornado frozen in time.

"Is it me..." Stuck-Up began "Or have we just been, as the pleb says, ditched, just like that?!"

The others slowly came to their senses as well.

"Yeah! What a bloody rip-off!" BoZo snapped "We all came here, ready to exact rightful, justified vengeance - out of solidarity, of course - upon that wretched freak, and all we get is a face full of dirt!"

"Go' dam' i'!" Spamcan cursed.

The engines began to grumble and murmur to each other, deeply disapproving the Controller's decision.

"Now hold ya horses!" Applejack snapped, momentarily forcing silence over them "Let's think abou' this clearly!"

The others watched with interest. A.J. wasn't much of public speaker.

"Ah say, so far, so good." she said simply.

"Wha' do ya mea'?" 'Arry asked.

"So far..." the cowmare began again, gaining a bit more courage "So far, Mr. Alexei had been a darn good controller, accordin' ta you, now hasn't he?"

Agreeing mumbles replied to this question.

"An' th' Princesses, despite their errors, have proven ta be decent, sensible mares, now haven't they?"

Episode 20 - The Grand Designer

"Can you feel that?"

A pulse rippled through the land, it's epicenter based around the pillar.

"Aw shit..."

"What's wrong?" Twilight asked.

"Something just happened inside... Its seeping out..." Diesel replied, looking worried.

"W-What?!"

"Can't you feel it?"

The unicorn didn't understood.

"Feel what?"

Then...

"UUGH!"

It was... That feeling again...

Gurgling up from the depths of her innards, sending jolts down her muscles, making her intestines and stomach cramp up to an almost nauseating tightness. It rushed through her veins, making her blood boil, as her nerves sort-circuited and her fur stood on edge. She sweated profusely... The taste of gall and pus rising at the back of her throat, making her retch, but to no avail.

Slowly the taste changed, from horrid to neutral, as the feeling reached her heart and mind, sending a cold shiver down her spine.

"What... IS this?" she gasped, choking on the clear air itself.

She felt darkness envelop her body, seeping in from all directions...

The feeling was dreadful, almost excruciating, while she didn't even felt physical pain!

Trough her agony, she glanced at Diesel.

The shunter merely winced, standing steady and still without a flinch. Whatever was this dark energy ripple, it didn't effected him as much as he let it on.

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

The voice she heard in her mind made her jump, but this time, there was no mistake about who it was.

"D-Diesel?"

"Don't waste your breath, Sparkle. You'll need it." his voice said, sounding more clear.

"What... What are you doing in my head?!" she thought.

"Stop shouting, damn it, you're giving me a headache!" - another voice said.

"B-Bowler?!" she asked herself "What's going on."

"...We haven't explained this yet, haven't we?" asked a third voice, after which she made a mental double take. It was Spamcan, his voice lacking his usual thick, working class accent, revealing an off-key deep baritone - rough, but amiable...

"Spamcan, what...? No, you haven't..." she "replied".

"Sparkle, this is the Talk Box or Mental Chat, an ability that all engines and rolling stock possess, which enables us to communicate without speaking."

"That's why it took our creators so long to realize that we were, indeed, alive." this was Derek's voice. He didn't had his usual soft lisp, and his voice sounded more confident and somewhat deeper "In the early days, before we learned to speak, we exchanged thoughts and impression through this. Once we learned to speak, however, the Talk Box changed into a Mental Chatroom, were we basically talked to each other telepathically, when we felt to tired to speak, or had to do it in absolute privacy from our masters. You're the first "outsider" to join in."

"To get this operational, all you need is eye-contact, but sometimes, that isn't necessary, either." it was Bowler again. Like Derek, he also sounded deeper and smoother in thought "The trucks also have something like this, but it's usually on a... I don't know, different frequency. That's how they manage to cause trouble so easily, once they decide about something."

"Is that why often see you just glancing at each other while your faces display the same expression for minutes on end?"

"..."

"...Yeah. Totally not using jump-cuts, or anything!"

"Shut up, Bert!"

"THAT was Bert? And 'Arry?" Twilight wondered with amazement. Once again, the mental voices were much more different. In the case of the Iron Twins, they weren't deeper, just smoother and more refined. And of course, they lacked the Twin's thick accent.

"You better believe it, sister!"

"Can the others hear us?"

"No, or at least, not yet." that had to be Bert's voice. It was deeper, and sounded more thoughtful.

"But that's not the point!" and that was Diesel. His voice didn't changed, except that it sounded... Softer, more... Gentle...

"Then what is? Guys, what's going on?!" the mare was frantic.

"Well, as you could probably guess, an incredibly strong wave of... Stuff... I don't know, dark energy or some shit like that had just blasted us head-on with full force."

"It didn't effected us, really..." put in Derek "It feels as if... We've built up a natural resistance to it..."

If that's so, Twilight didn't even needed to guess what THAT dark energy was.

"However..." the Class 17 went on "It seems to be developing a rather poisonous effect on you, which IS unfortunate, as it appears that WE'RE the back-up plan..."

"What do we do now then?" the unicorn pondered "Because, unless WE develop some sort of resistance... I mean, it's not like you could share yours..."

There was a short pause.

Then...

"What if we can?" Derek "asked".

"Don't be stupid..." Bowler thought "Just HOW do you think we'll do that?"

"I say we hear him out, lads..." said Stuck-Up, diplomatically. He sounded much more kinder, almost fatherly. ALMOST "What's your idea, Derek?"

"Well, if you think about it, this dark energy mainly effects them metaphysically, however, it is so strong, that physical effects surface as well." he explained "Obviously, we've experienced the emotions it generates so many times that it doesn't effect us at all. The ponies, Spike and Gilda, however, don't have this privilege, because they haven't experienced the aforementioned emotions that much - they lack the experience we have! Thus, the only way we could help them is by "lending" them some of our experience, so they can face these emotions with ease."

"Good theory, but how can we do it?" the question came from Spamcan, and the others "fell silent".

Suddenly, Steamie "spoke up":

"Guys, what if we'd "Discorded" them, but in "our way?"

"Our way?" Diesel pondered, then presumably understood it, as deviously delighted "Yeeeessss..." soon rose from him...

"OK, guys, let's do this, then!" Bowler "declared".

The pulse had long since passed, but their drivers were still suffering from the effects, loosing their strength...

They didn't notice the sounds of engines (and boilers), as they revved up (or hissing), before the noise began to slow down and grew quieter, but also, deeper...

Thick clouds of pitch black smoke rose from the engine's vents (and a thick, cold white cloud of steam from the two exceptions' cylinders), denser than air, which began to circle envelop their drivers, not scattering as such vapors should.
It circled around them like mist, crashing against heir legs like the waves of the ocean...

"Whu-What's going on?" Twilight muttered, not noticing that the sickly feeling dissipating, and being replaced by a comfortable coldness. For a moment, she knew exactly how it felt like being trapped under ice.

"Shhhh... Just let it sink in..." said a whisper "You're going as low as we can go..."

"What?

"No remorse... No sense of shame..." the whisper went on "Time's gonna wash away all pain..."

She didn't understand... The voice... Sounded so familiar... It wasn't Diesel this time, but rather...

But it couldn't been...

...Could it?

She needed some time to think.

So she eased her muscles, and took a deep breath - realizing too late that the smog was still around her!

To her surprise, it wasn't choking her. It smelled... Almost natural to her. It filled her lungs like the cleanest, cold air, making her heart pick up the pace and her blood rush into even her thinnest, smallest veins, reinvigorating her... And filling her with a sense gloominess in the same time as well...

The others experienced the same thing: trying to relax and think things over, they were found themselves breathing in the thick vapors. And within the material mist, they heard their engines calling out to them.

Voices, filling the mist with content, the smoke with scent, as the sound of engines murmuring, whispering in the ambiance spread through the fog, reaching their ears...

Urging them to change. To see different.

To deviate from the absolute...

Darkness rained down upon her like never before...

Her eyes were blinded by black light. Her ears deafened by a silent roar. Her nose and mouth filled with the scent of emptiness...

HE was right!

The truth is like a thunderstorm.

The reveal is oh-so-bitter...

A choir of souls in the wind, nothing more - these are her friends...

Discord represented Chaos - Chaos that is constant, that reaches all, that is everywhere.

Chaos, the oldest order in Existence, the greater scheme of things, the ONE rule:

Chaos IS Existence, and any sort of Order known by mortals is a mere fraction of it.

Order is organized, and in it's center are the leaders - like a carriage wheel: the followers of order are the rim, the maintainers are the spokes, and it's owners are the hub, turning around their main beliefs and ideas: the axis.

Take the axis away, and Order loses it's reason, take the Hub away, and the wheel would soon collapse.

Order is fragile, and it's weakest part is the hub - it's owners, the ones who have others' head in their hands.

Yet in order, all pieces take part in maintaining it, so all parts have a purpose.

In Chaos, there's no wheel - the pieces exist, but that's all they need to do: exist. There's only one rule in Chaos: exist. Your place is where you're at. Your purpose is existence.

In Order, you're a part of something... Something that's extremely fragile, and unstable without a main goal, an axis.

And then, there's anarchy.

Anarchy is the wheel itself, the tire, no spokes or hub. Everyone has it's place: it's where they are, and they all have a purpose: maintaining the place they are, thus helping the others maintain their place as well.

Their strength is in the lack of a hub: nothing they need to work for, the round wheel itself is structure strong enough to exist on it's own. And since there's no hub, there's no need for spokes as well.

In Chaos, we have a secured place, but our only purpose is to exist. We're beyond that.

In Order, we have our purpose, but our place is as unstable as the system we live in.

In Anarchy, we have our place among our peers, and our purpose to maintain ourselves and help our peers.

So, in order for her to defeat Discord, to defeat Chaos, she shouldn't trying to fight him with Harmony, with Order - Order is, but a fraction of the great Chaos that Existence is based upon - proof that Chaos exists, as it is Existence.

No, in order to defeat him, she must deviate from the rigid, fragile stiffness of "conventional" Order, and differ from the nihilism and passivity of Chaos. She'll need something dynamic and flexible.

Diesel was right.

She'll have to move away from Harmony - it doesn't serves as an antithesis to Chaos.

She'll have to deviate.

Friendship won't help anymore.

But a main goal still binds them: survival.

Order makes rules. Chaos denies them or makes them morph constantly, to make them fit it's one rule of existence.
She'll have to break and bend them for her own gain.

A guileful smirk appeared on her face, as her fur darkened.

Yesssss....

It's time to deviate...

The pillar of clouds opened before the arching row of engines, slowly dissipating, as the deities revealed themselves.
Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Alexei were back in their normal, everyday attires...

Discord looked bewildered, but unhurt. Well, at least, physically.

They all gazed at the parting mist, as the silhouettes became filled with detail.

They had to gasp.

Rainbow Dash emerged from between the Iron Twins - both grinning wickedly, along with their fitter. The pegasus was in a threatening position, with wings raised high and her torso low on the front. She was ready to pounce.

Her cyan fur was now a dirty gray, her deep magenta eyes now blazing red, and her cutie mark was a dark cloud with with a single, realistic white lightning. Her mane and tail lost their colors, and were now replaced by varying stripes of black and yellow - much like the hazard stripes pf the two diesels. Her wings were definitely larger, and so was her body - she now resembled a winged earth pony, rather than a lithe pegasus. Her feathers were a dirty, hazard yellow color with metallic tips, as she draw out two torches on top of them: a welding torch on her wing closer to 'Arry, and a cutter torch on the one closer Bert's, both lit, and burning with a yellowish-blue jet flame.

Whether they were weaponry or means of extra propulsion was a question yet to be answered. A grim smirk was present on the mare's face, and she glanced imposingly on the draconequus.

Applejack wasn't the same mare, either. Her rich orange fur was now green as an unripe apple (with a bluish tint, even!), her golden crest and tail the same hazard yellow as her friend's wings, but remaining in ponytails, respectively. The three apples of her cutie mark were now small and gray like immature zap apples, and her body was covered in soot and dust - the remainder of the mist. But most noticeable was her hat: no longer her pa's brown Stetson - it replaced with an eight-point Gatsby cap instead, her signal green eyes glowing under the eye-shade.

She leaned against the side of Spamcan, the same, "Immagunnabeatchu" smirk present on their faces.

Pinkie Pie sported a wide grin, which was sort of expected from her.

Except that this grin... Had a bad feeling to it.

It was very wide, almost uncomfortable to look at, with a hint of malice hiding in it's corners. Her fur was now a fluorescent green, with a forest green mane and tail, more shaggy than curly, eerily reminding the four deities of another, certain pony who's name they couldn't recall. Her cutie mark was now three gushes of steam, leaking from an unseen valve. The brightness of her black eyes, the whiteness of her teeth...

She was downright disturbing...

The fact that she stood in front of a quietly wheeshing Steamie who wore an even wider grin, with an insane expression in his WIDELY OPEN eyes, only added to that...

Trixie's change was... Surprisingly insignificant at first glance...

Her usual, Azure-French Blue fur was now a pine green, with a slight grayness to it. Her mane and tail were still silvery, but no longer contained a blue hue - they looked almost metallic instead, with an odd strike of yellow in them. Her face, now with a lazy look and content half-smile (similar to Bowler's, who stood slantwise behind her), reflected utmost certainty of her own abilities - but without her usual haughtiness. Dark gray eyes eyed the world with the calmness and uppity of one who has the upper hand. Gently, she reached up to her head, fixing the incredibly dark green (almost black) bowler hat on top of it, pulling it down to the base of her horn to reveal a very tiny hazard yellow band on it.

Rarity's... "Transformation" only seemed to enhance her grace.

Paletinale blue fur, selective yellow crest and tail, the former kept in mixture of bangs and a "Feathered" hair style, the latter now combed like the lazy waves of the ocean, and both shining like gold, while her cutie mark looked like three glass shards. She also acquired a black eye mask with golden frills, held on a stick at it's right side. She seemed... Smug, even more so than usual.

...Still nothing compared to the King-of-Arrogance Old Stuck-Up to her right, though.

Fluttershy was... Different, to say the least...

Her once creme yellow fur was now a dark yellow-green. It's original color had traveled it's way into her mane and tail, pushing out the original pink, then saturating into a familiar hazard yellow, the very tip of her locks appearing to be... Burned... Or at least covered in soot or ash.

She gazed at them with grayed eyes, her pupils were deep wells of truth, searching their mind and heart. It was safe to say, that she had been compromised, along with her friends. Her cutie mark was now three moths, their wings made of smoke. At first glance, she was less threatening than the others, standing on Derek's footplate, leaning against his engine block with a calm smile, which she shared with the diesel. But the more they looked at her... The more unnerving her whole appearance got. There was an air of dreariness that emanated from her being - her calm smile predicted a storm, her eyes were digging into their brains, exposing their insides to the world, while she showed them, in their minds, her own misery.

She didn't intended harm, though. She just wanted a job to be well done. Not seem like a weakling. But that didn't meant she had to be brutish or harmful. There are ways to prove your worth gently, after all...

Twilight Sparkle's transformation was still progressing when the deities finally revealed themselves. Darkness, like paint trickling down, slowly covered her body, the edge's of this dark influence appearing to be burning, singing her fur, making it turn from lavender to pitch black. The same thing happened to her mane, changing from it's usual violet-blue to black, while those stripes in her flat crest and tail - one purple, the other a dull magenta - changed to red and dark gray.

As the transformation slowly completed, the icky blackness, seeping around her body like spilled, crude oil, reached around her cutie marks. As it completely surrounded them, their image wavered and warped, it's edges twisting in impossible ways, some of which one could even describe as painful...

Her face revealed nothing. The complete lack of emotions, eyes closed and mouth shut, as the changes were coming to an end.

Her new cutie mark was a familiar symbol. Blazing red, it stood out from the blackness of her fur, looking like a precisely made cut or gash on her flank. It was the same symbol that could be found on the engines - on Old Stuck-Up, Pip and Emma, Spamcan, though his was crooked, BoZo, though his stood on it's side.

Twilight's symbol was different, of course - it was twisted and warped to remind one of her usual cutie mark. It's blazing red form had a white, oval shape underneath it, further enhancing the new symbol's similarity with the old one.

As the transformation finished, the mare's eyes crept open. Crimson irises, edged by gray, were slowly revealed, gazing at the world with a newborn's wonder... Then turned to frown, her eyelids slipping down slightly, as a devious smirk appeared on her mouth.

She smiled, guilefully, as she raised her head, horn sparkling up with a sharp, flame-like magic aura.

As the last traces of the smog dissipated, the form of Devious Diesel came into view, rising out of the gray mist like a block of darkness, the light granting him features. He was smirking as well, staring straight at Discord.

"You know, that trick of yours IS quite neat... Turning ponies into the exact opposite of their personality, driving them insane..." he said, after some mutual oogling "So we decided to try it ourselves. But with some alterations, of course. First!"

He scrolled his eyes on the mares beside him and his associates.

"...No insanity. Insanity is for the weak willed! Second!"

He smirked, triumphantly, as his gaze met the chimera again.

"Their change is a bit more... Concentrated, this time..."

"Concentrated... On what?" the spirit asked.

Diesel narrowed his eyes.

"Destroying you..."

"He's yours..." Alexei exhaled, tossing the draconequus in front the engines "We've tried everything... You can do as you please..." he finished, turning away.

"Aren't you gonna stay?" Bowler asked "Enjoy the show perhaps?"

The Controller looked back.

The mares were ready.

Under their engines' silent command, Spike and Gilda had retreated into BoZo's and CoBo's cabs, avoiding the transformation in the process.

"We'll spectate." Luna replied "From afar..."

They teleported away...

A menacing chuckle rose from the row.

Discord looked down.

"Well... It's me and you guys now..." he muttered, talking more to himself than to anyone. Then, he grinned "This shall be easy..."

"You really think so?" Twilight asked, smoothly "Poor old Discord, he hasn't the slightest idea what sort of mess he'd gotten himself into..."

"Indeed." Rarity added, moving her mascara closer to her face "The poor fool. Oh well... He'll realize it, soon enough."

"Realize? What?" the draconequus asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Trixie asked on a sickeningly confident tone "It's over."

"Over? What is?! What are you talking about?!" the chimera demanded.

"Discord..." Fluttershy's voice was very calm and quiet. She spoke softly "It's... Over. Done."

After seeing the incredulous look on the spirit's face, the mares groaned impatiently. Twilight rolled her eyes.

"Discord, it's over! You're done! Game over!" she snapped "You've lost! Defeated! We've drawn blood and you bled out for the sins you've committed in the name of evil!"

"That's a bit melodramatic..." Pinkie uttered.

"Shut up, Pinkie!" the unicorn growled "Anyways... You're done for, Discord, now lay down on the rails, preferably across them, and let faith, and several tons of moving steel on sharp wheels, do the rest."

"You're not... Trying to KILL me... Are you?" the spirit muttered.

"Of course we are." Rainbow grinned "You've caused enough trouble... And the Princesses themselves gave us the permission to... Euthanize you."

"Bu' first, we might as well break yer leg." Applejack added "Ya 'no'... Justta' giv' it sum reason..."

"You aren't serious, are you?" he chortled, and flew off the ground "I'm still the God of Chaos, and OUGH!"

He hit... Thin air...

Falling back onto the ground, he looked up.

"...WHAT?!"

"That's right..." BoZo grinned "The Princesses made EXTRA sure that you won't go unpunished. You're now trapped in a tunnel of magic that goes along the railway lines, giving you the stretch of them to run, but..."

"You can't escape, all the same..." Trixie finished, smirking "No teleportation, limited height to fly or float..."

"So..." Diesel smirked "If you still believe in such wonders as a... "Fair fight", or... "Escape from a diesel convoy", then... Run."

His smirk turned grim.

"Run for your life!"

It was an odd sight indeed: a yellow ball of unearthly flame, racing down above the triple railway line, across the darkened Equestrian countryside. One may would've thought that it was a ghost of some sorts - they wouldn't been that wrong, given that the anomaly was, indeed, a Spirit of sorts.

But that would've raised a question:

Why was this spirit pursued by multiple lines of locomotives, and their respected drivers, at such high speeds?
Answering this question, even with the correct answer, would only raise more questions, most of them beginning with "Why?".

Or, correctly:

"OH GOD, WHYYYYYYYYYY?!"

A being like Discord rarely experienced fear - especially a being of his age. Any other being would have welcomed a feeling they haven't felt in eons. Discord didn't. He hated being afraid.

And he ESPECIALLY hated being in fear for his life.

The engines were gaining upon him. What gaining? They were tailgating him!

Wouldn't been much of a set-back, but as Twilight had told him, he was in an invisible tube, barely bigger than a normal railway tunnel. This limited his aerospace, and restricted his magic as well, leaving him with running and flying.

He hadn't flew in a long time, and running was no cup of tea with four different limbs...

What made the whole little joyflight even more BRILLIANT is that the unicorns were now on the top of their engines' cabs, shooting projectiles at him every now and then, without any reasonable pattern...

"C'mon, Twi', burn 'is ass!" Applejack shouted. She and Pinkie stood inside their engines' cabs, but kept throwing petrol bombs at the chimera - with surprising force and accuracy.

"On it!" the black mare replied, as she and the other two kept shooting deadly spells at Discord - she shot fireballs, while Rarity rapid-fired her respective crystals, sharp as a razorblade, and Trixie bombarded the chimera with globe-lightnings. They didn't damage the line (well, the tracks, anyway, though the sleepers received some battlescars), so the pace was easy for the engines to maintain.

He had done quite a few things to encourage their wrath, but this time, it was different.

Defeating him wasn't enough.

They wanted his blood.

And he knew it.

"I gotta get out of here!" the spirit thought.

But there was no way out...

The convoy was catching up to him...

The spells got more and more vile and destructive.

There was no way out...

Scared, tired and frustrated, Discord let loose of a bawl that shook the landscape...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

"And there he goes!"

The princesses and the Controller were laying on deck chairs, watching the chase from atop of an outcropping that the draconequus created.

"Shouldn't we... Interact?" Luna asked.

"You mean "intervene"?" Alexei asked back "Nah... Let them have some fun now, and Discord DOES need to learn some humility. Two birds, one stone!"

"Hmmmm..." the Princess of the Night pondered "This still seems a bit... Harsh..."

"Why, would you like to endure MORE of his cheap exhibitionism?" the Dimension-Wanderer asked.

"No, of course not!" the alicorn replied, turning her gaze towards her sister "What do you think, 'Tia?"

She was stumped by what she saw.

Rather than laying, her sister was sitting uneasily her the deck chair, gazing intently at the chase below - and Luna could've sworn she had just finished praying.

"Please, hurry, Discord..." she whispered...

And that was all that Discord intended to do. Hurry.

Faster and faster.

He'd stop at no measures to put distance between himself...

...And his chasers...

The convoy became completely indistinct by then.

Minutes before, an unhealthy sounding growl rose from Diesel's engine, followed by coughs and spluttering... Dark smoke rose from him, first from his exhaust, then his vents... Soon, he was completely engulfed by the black smog, his body no more than a silhouette in the middle, with his eyes and grin shining trough. Twilight looked the same, the only thing completely visible of her were her were her eyes, completely white and glowing like lamps - the fumes were dense enough to cover the magic aura around her horn.

The other engines, and their drivers followed suit. Soon enough, all that was visible was a black mass of smoke and shapes, with sharp grins and malicious glares cutting through it like beamlights slicing the night sky.

The sound of the motors became a blurred, deafening roar, akin to the sound of a demon.

The draconequus broke out in cold sweat, and increased his pace, not looking back again.

His wings ached, his eyes burned as tears rolled down his cheeks...

The pain was getting unbearable.

His gaze, glued to the tracks up ahead, was that of a hunted animal's...

Which he was.

A bend came into view. The tracks ran downhill.

He turned back one last time.

Yep.

There was nothing left of the ponies and... Machines he once knew... Sort of...

No more looking back now.

Adrenalin crashed through his system like never before.

If he had any chance of escaping an oily death, it was now.

Now or never!

Time seemed to slow down.

Around the bend came the shape of an object, the chance of it appearing is what he had forgotten about.

Now, with eyes wide as plates, and horror sinking in, he realized how foolish he had been, thinking he could escape.

It was over. Clear as that.

Everything had to end once. Him. Them. Her.

Everything, even the lines.

His eyes, still wide as plates, focused on another pair of plates which came into view, clear black upon the red structure they were placed on. They drew nearer at a surprising... What surprising, alarming rate!

Turning his wings in a vertical position, his long body crammed up into a bundle, as he stopped, his face inches from the sharp hook of the buffer stop.

He dropped on the ground, gasping for air - he hadn't done this much exercise since his early "teenage", if such a long period of time could be considered as such. He checked the air for magical flux. It all seemed to sharply end at the buffers, forming an impenetrable wall. No escape there...

He turned around, considering his chances at quickly racing back to the last switch, and getting back onto the main line, before the convoy caught up to him.

He then looked ahead...

...And his heart skipped a beat...

If the convoy didn't, one certain engine, and his driver, DID reach him.

He stared, partially in shock, partially in impressed awe, as the black shape roared towards him. It's face, twisted into obscurity, was rid of every identifying feature, resembling the carved face of jack-o-lantern, with a jagged mouth, and gash-like eyes, glowing with an unearthly white light. The mare on top of him, glared down at Discord with an unforgiving, crimson gaze, as the engine approached, much like the blade of the guillotine.

Everything went dark.

Then a voice said:

"Let's not get so carried away!"

There was the sound of fingers flicking, then... Everything seemed to... Rewind...

The grim faced engine backed away from, he turned back to the bufferstop, and shot out away from it - backwards.

He felt like he was being pulled by strings. The countryside, overcast by the unusually dark clouds, flew past him, again, backwards. Charred, burned spots on the ground burst into various balls of magic, flying pass him, always nearly missing him all the time, as they disappeared behind him. The sound of the convoy roared in an eerie reverberation, as he flew, faster and faster, along the very path he took in his exodus. He was aware of his surroundings, but could not control the behavior of his body. He mentally examined his surroundings, and could clearly tell that there was magic, far stronger than his (at least, in this reduced form), at work. The scenery became a blur, and suddenly, he found himself standing on the concrete turntable once more, the half circle of engines, and their drivers, standing before him, with their superiors at the side, wearing their railway uniforms, double-button-line coat and peaked cap and all.

He gazed to the side, his eyes meeting with that of Celestia's, the two of them blushing, while Alexei and Luna snickered knowingly.

The engines, and their crew (now reverting into their original forms) looked disoriented.

"Wha' jus' happen'd?" Spamcan muttered.

"Well..." Alexei spoke up, softly and gently, but loud enough to gather their attention "Some... Thing had occurred, that led us to make a change in our plans...

"Oh? And what would that be?" Rarity asked, sounding fairly irritated.

The Leaderboard stayed silent for short moment...

Then...

"...See it for yourself." Luna said coldly, as both she, her sister, and the Controller gazed at a certain point above the tracks, on the line right behind Discord.

All gazes turned towards said spot, and even the draconequus craned his head back with curiosity.

Above the line, the air wavered, is if it was hot enough to be distorted by heat rising from the ground. The distortion got worse and worse, and soon, sparks began to form, and fall, all the more frequent...

"What is going on?" Trixie asked, truly confused. By then, the sparkling had turned into a constant flashing of bluish white electricity, the spot growing larger and larger.

It stopped, when it reached the side of a tunnel.

It's outer rim was a thick, seizure-inducing line of sparkling bundles of electricity, that made an awful lot of noise, sounding much like a malfunctioning transformation.

The inside of the portal was blinding white, which sometimes flickered, revealing a set of rails behind it, showing it in an unsettling lighting. Eventually, something appeared on the tracks - two headlamps, located unusually low. As their owner drew nearer, the buffers, and soon, the silhouette of the engine appeared as well.

The portal made haunting noises, as it crept through. Most of it resembled the weird "music" composers made, when they first began to experience with the opportunities granted by the magnet tape recorders. Some sounded like background audio clips from video and computer games like Earthbound, Mortyr, and other, either half-arsed or disturbing creations. Eventually, however, all other sounds were subdued by the sound of laughter.

Wicked, conceited laughter, slowly growing hysteric, but all the while, keeping a certain grace... Well, grace wasn't the right word - might would've been better.

The engine crept through the hole, rolling onto the line that Discord stood on.

It was long, with two large windscreens and oval buffers, his paint presumably green - most of his features were hidden by the dim atmosphere and the bright light of the portal.

A malevolent smirk, however, became deviantly visible - a stark contrast compared with the rest of the picture.

It's engine made a deep, zooming noise, and it's brakes hissed gently, as he stopped, not far from the draconequus himself.

And it was MASSIVE!

Truly a leviathan of a locomotive, it's entire structure practically radiating power.

With his smirk yet to fade, his headlights scrolled the area like beamlights, before setting on Discord's face.

Irritated by the light, the spirit turned to the other three deities with a smug smirk of his own.

"Really? Reset a timeline for ANOTHER diesel? I'd never thought I'll ever see you grow so desperate--..."

He was cut off.

A large, sharp-teethed claw clamped around his body, slowly lifting him from the ground.

The grabber belonged to the new arrival, connected to him via a bulky, two-sectioned arm, moved entirely by hydraulics.

The claw itself could move separately - it turned Discord into a horizontal position, and lifted him high, high above the engine's roof, only to toss him down to the ground with a brutal strike.

The sight was blood-curdling.

Discord's thin body was bent in all sort of ways it shouldn't have been, blood oozing from his mouth and nostrils, and from gashes on his body - quite a few of them made by broken bones tearing through the skin...

For a moment, he seemed dead, but a resonating cough and the sickening sound of bones snapping back into their places, fat and muscle tissues sewing themselves back together, and skin soldering in a rapid space.

With a groan of both pain and exhaustion, the chimera lifted his body from the rails, trying to stand up...

...Only to be grabbed by the claw again.

"HEY! What's the big--?!" he yelled, before being silenced by the glare he saw - the engine held him close to his face, glowering at him, with eyes filled of pure malice, and mouth still grinning.

He threw him on the ground, again and again, each time with a stronger and stronger thrust. Finally, after spinning by the tail above his cab, he tossed him forward, making him land on his face in front of Celestia.

He quickly recollected himself, and immediately sprinted behind the Sun Goddess, twisting his body around hers, clinging to her, and also hiding his face in her crest.

Once both of them had calmed down from their shock, they both began to blush as they slowly parted, left with a feeling of awkwardness and warmth. Alexei and Luna just smirked, knowingly.

Meanwhile, the engines were getting acquainted with the newcomer. That is to say, reacquainted...

"Ah, Vincent!" Stuck-Up smiled at the large engine, who had since rolled forward, now parking on the turntable. He was painted dark olive with white hazard stripes painted across his width, on the lower part of his body. He was a Class 42, a Warship type. His claw, robust yet agile, rested atop his cab.

"Long time no see, old chap!" the express engine went on "How are things?"

"Good, Ay guess..." he replied. He had distinct Australian accent - an outlaw accent, even.

"You seem a bit longer." Derek commented "Have you been stretching?"

"Don't be an idiot, Derek!" Diesel snapped at him "He's been through an overhaul, obviously!"

"...Anyways..." Bowler sighed, rolling his eyes "It's good to know you're back, Vincent. Planning to stay?"

"That's wha' I had in mind..." he replied. Suddenly, his roof sunk down under his claw, and parted: two equal halves sliding back, allowing his claw to lower into the compartment, before shutting close again.

"I see they've done a thorough job." the Controller muttered, adjusting his glasses "Welcome to the team, Vincent. Your codenumber is still D10, right?"

"Yeh."

"Ooookai then..."

"Diesel?"

"Yes?"

"Who's Vincent?"

"...His right in front of you. Well, behind that messed undead roadkill, but..."

"No, I mean, who is he? How come you guys know him?"

Diesel sighed.

"Vincent, alias Diesel 10, was a special prototype Class 42, half the size of a normal Warship, and equipped with a hydraulic claw. Obviously, he was picked on for that, especially by steam engines, until one day, he figured out that he can use his claw for more than just loading stuff, mining and making sculptures."

"Making... Sculptures?"

"Yeah, he's an expert, sort of an Edward Scissorhands-type of guy..." the Class 08 thoughts trailed off, but soon back to reality "But I'm getting off topic. Point is, he's hunted all over Britain and Australia for the claw he has, and because of illegal scrap dealership."

"Why Australia?"

"He was shipped over there to be tested..." Derek explained "And spent the first few years of his life there - that's were he picked up that funky accent of his."

"Is he... Dangerous?" Pinkie asked.

"O'ly i' ya piss 'im off!" 'Arry chuckled "Bu' tha's no' li'ely... 'E 'as a lo' o' pa'ience..."

As Vincent fully exit the portal, it shut immediately. Two other, smaller portals opened, allowing two gray diesels to enter the realm as well - quickly closing soon afterwards.

No sooner than they realized who the other two were that a tired, irritated groan left the engines' mouths.

"Ummm... We're here boss..." said one.

"Yeah, where here! Wherever "here" is..." the other muttered.

After the introduction and welcome trivialities were over, both engines, equines and other species departed to a more comfortable location - escaping the raging storm that started from all the magical flux in the air.

The Canterlot freight terminal seemed like the most obvious choice.

And now, standing in between two rows of disgruntled diesels, on a narrow platform with his former friends and their newest ally in front of him, and group of disheartened ponies, and an indifferent dragon and griffon behind him, he reconsidered his life.

His deeds so far were not THAT terrible, but they would've enraged anyone to the point of sentencing him to death by torture.

Any person in their right mind would've ran from being in such a position. Yet here he was, awaiting Faith itself, obediently.
With Diesel 10 on one side, and the Iron Twins on the other, he couldn't think of anything else, but:

"This is where I die..."

"Well, Discord, you sure put us into an awkward predicament..."

The Princess of the Night let out a long sigh.

"As usual..."

"I still don't understand just WHAT is your deal..."

"Well, you see..." Alexei began "As much as it would be logical to just end your life, we can't do it."

"That's certainly a charming way to start..."

The Controller rolled his eyes, and continued.

"There are forces far greater than any of us at work here!"

"Uh-huh. Totally convincing. It's not like we've all heard those lines before..."

"Discord..." Celestia spoke to him softly "Shut up. Please."

"Right. Just get to the point, this is already boring as it is!" the chimera snapped "You don't need to stretch it!"

"...To cut it short." the figure went on "We need your help. There are events we're yet to understand that will happen sometime in the near future, that will effect Existence itself."

"Everything that we know... LIFE as we know it... Could come to an end!" Luna added, trying desperately to make the spirit more interested, and failing miserably in the process with her melodrama "We could all DIE!"

"Isn't that what we all secretly want?" the draconequus asked bitterly...

"WHAT?!" Twilight snapped "HOW can you say that?!"

"Umm... Twilight..." Fluttershy peeped, motioning her hoof around the company.

Many of the diesels looked miserable, especially Diesel, who appeared to be impatient for some reason. Both Princess Celestia and Luna looked to the side, as if trying to escape the topic, while Alexei scratched his head, unable to answer...

Unable to avoid the inevitable truth of that one sentence...

"...Fair enough..." the stickly figure uttered, after a long pause "All the same, you can't honestly be THAT nihilistic!"

"WHY NOT?" Discord growled "You're trying to enslave me! Restrict me from doing the thing I can, do and enjoy doing the best!"

"No, we don't." the Controller replied "We merely give you guidelines..."

"Yeah, to keep me on edge!" the spirit retorted.

"YOU keep yourself on edge." Celestia declared. Her voice suddenly became stern "Discord, THE WHOLE WORLD is at stake! ALL We're asking is your cooperation! You'll be free to do whatever you want, unless it's something harmful for other ponies - all WE ask for is that you stop acting like a stubborn colt and actually help, for once!"

"You are on an equal level with us." Alexei added "We'll give you the same respect we treat each other with."

"Yeah, right..." Discord scoffed "Then what was all that chasing and bruising?"

"You forced us to do it, ya old coot!" Diesel growled "You barged in, and started acting like a complete prick, as usual, then surprise, surprise, we got pissed and decided to teach you a lesson or two, AND then some, for all those years of prickery before we came here, and now, you're offered an easy escape from beating, AND a high position, and yet, you whine like a little bitch. Pathetic!"

"Hmph. Acid tongue..." the chimera replied.

"Tha's wha' ya ge'!" Spamcan grumbled.

There was a short pause.

"...Fine!" the draconequus grumbled "I guess I can make THIS sacrifice."

Alexei's left eye twitched.

"...Pardon?" he uttered.

"I mean, I'll only be betraying myself!" the spirit went on "No big dea--!"

"Stop right there!" the Controller snapped.

Surprised, Discord looked towards him.

And nearly fell back onto his tail...

The Wanderer's head hung low, his eyes glaring daggers above his glasses, his glower directed straight at the God of Chaos. His pupils, normally black and deep, were now wells of blood, slowly gaining an eerie glow to them.

"...You speak of sacrifice..." he muttered, stepping forward "...Yet, you know nothing of the word..."

Discord took a step back.

"...You speak of betrayal..." the Controller went on, raising his voice dangerously. His eyes were blazing red "When you cannot even COMPREHEND the full meaning and essence of treason or mutiny!"

He took another, staggering step forward, his eyes burned with untold amounts of ire, bursting out from deep within his soul.
"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA, WHAT TRUE BETRAYAL IS?!" he was roaring by now.

Discord made a few steps backwards, when he suddenly found his face violently gripped by the stickly figure, his sharp fingers digging into his skin, his jaw, his gums...

"Do you think I got my powers from birth? Well, unlike YOU, you degenerate, I had to work for them! I had to search for them, fight for them, achieve them, study them, MASTER them, all by myself, DYING and BEING REBORN, again and again, for eons! And what did I got out of it?! That everything I knew and based my life on were lies, ALL LIES! That I had been fooled from the VERY START! That I had been TRICKED by my very creator, so that HE and his adversary could gain easy power, and I had to suffer for it!"

He let go of Discord - actually, no, he violently tossed him to the ground, face first.

"In fact... ALL of you magical beings are just like this!" Alexei went on, pointing a blaming finger at the Princesses, and the unicorns and pegasi present "Stuffed up, aristocratic, know-it-all, superiority-complexed, "aryan" FREAKS! You look down upon ANYONE who doesn't have the same power as YOU do, and you ALWAYS also seem to think that just by having power, you have privileges as well!" he yelled, and spat "DISGUSTING!"

And then, as quickly as it came, the hatred that dripped from his words left without a trace.

"I'm offering you, ALL of you, to redeem yourselves and destroy a stereotype that had been around since the first "magical" beings appeared, yet always slipped under the radar for one reason or another. To achieve this redemption you'll have to go through training, but don't get me wrong. We'll be training for the many potential apocalypses, Armageddons and other, similar end-time phenomenons." he turned to the others "These are the final battles between existence and and nothingness, and the very final one will decide whether we all live... Or die..."

He turned back to Discord, offering him his hand.

"You're NOT getting any second chances after this." the Wanderer declared "I'm offering you recognition and respect trough trust and not fear, an obligation which gives your talent of creation a possibility to be used constructively, and plenty of free time to do whatever you want, until the time for action comes. You'll be a respected, and perhaps, loved member of the team..." he said, making a slight, sideways glance in the direction of the elder princess "...Instead of being a fugitive at large. Accept not, and you're on your own. Cross our paths once more, and you're dead. There's no need for slack among us in these dire times. So, decide..." he called, wrapping it up "Are you with us, or on your own."

For once, the scrambled mind of Discord seemed to be focused. His eyes glistened with intelligence, not unlike the one he needed for his cunning and... Honestly, just plain stupid plans and ideas, but this one... Lacked malicious intent. Finally, he reached out, and grabbed the figure's hand, allowing him to pull him up.

"I guess that's an answer..." Old Stuck-Up muttered, sounding quite bemused "Will you be joining us, then?"

"Well, I was actually trying to pull him down to the ground to see his skull shatter against the rails, but that'll do, I guess..."

After undusting himself (and snapping a few bones back into their proper place), he turned his gaze to the Sun Goddess...

"So that means I'm no longer... "Rejected", does it?" he grumbled, sulkily.

"Discord..." Celestia was about to reply, before being cut of by her less hesitant sister.

"Dream on, Rebel-boy!" Luna snapped "After all that horseapple you've put us through, be glad if we let you sleep on the porch!"

The flame has been lit, and the fire was soon roaring.

"Fancy hear you speak instead of shouting your ass of, Queen Caps Lock!"

...And as the insult swapping between the two deities progressed into a full-on free-for-all, and as the other stared, bemused and increasingly awkward, Celestia felt like sinking into the floor next to them, whils also progressively shrinking in size, until her reached sub-atomic level.

Alexei just shook his head.

"So, that's it?" Diesel grunted.

"Yup. That's it." the Controller replied "Why did you expected more?"

"We DID deserve it!" Bowler argued "We worked so hard, and THIS is what we get?! Some word-throwing, philosophizing and the introduction a few new characters?!" he snapped, before turning to Diesel 10 "No offence, Vincent."

"None taken." the Aussie Warship replied.

"Well, Diesel..." Alexei began "...All I can say is: you're still the Other Railway, and this is just the first season final. So YOU ain't gettin' shit!"

At that very moment, an enormous and stingy smog cloud covered the area, literally choking the fight between the God of Chaos and the Princess of the Night. Eyes were filled with ashes, mouths with dust, and lungs with soot. And it all smelled suspiciously like a certain petrochemical...

"Bl'udy 'ell, Dere'! Tha's rank!" Spamcan coughed.

"It smells worse than Jugga'nouts early mornin' starts!" Applejack spluttered.

"Ough! Most disgusting! Blehblehblehbleh!" Old Stuck-Up added.

"It's all in my maaaaneee!" Rarity bawled.

"Ah! The soot! It's everywhere!" Bowler wailed "Get it off of me! Get it OUT of me! It went straight up my vents!"

"The Great and Powerful Trixie is glad that she's still wearing her multifunctional hat and cape." Trixie muttered, her voice slightly muffled from her hat as she used it as a gas mask.

"Yea', an' ya no lon'e' 'ave a cu'ie ma'k tha' ma'e ya loo' loi'e yer an islami' communist!" 'Arry added, guffawing loudly. He and Bert were used to the smog.

Rainbow Dash wasn't.

"Worst. Ending. EVER!" she declared, before having another coughing fit.

"Aaa... CHU! Dere~e~ek, this air is foul..." Fluttershy peeped, before sneezing again.

"It is indeed..." Derek groaned "But it wasn't me..."

"Wait..." Diesel thought "If it wasn't Derek... Or ANY of us, for that matter... Then who...?"

He glanced to the side.

Twilight stood, casually on all fours, with a narrowing trail of smoke fumigating from the very tip of her horn...

The shunter smirked.

"Eh... So all that effort I actually sort of half-heartedly put into something finally paid off." he snickered "My presence did rub off on you."

At first, Twilight looked embarrassed. Then, she smirked as well...

"Well, they WERE getting on my wick..." she mumbled, trying hard to snuff out a smile, but failing after a decent struggle.

"There's hope for you yet, Ms. Sparkle." the Class 08 said, smiling as well. His cab door opened "Let's go home, shall we?"

As they trundled down the line, leaving their smog-smothered friends, colleagues and superiors behind, there was a... Pleasant silence among them.

But finally, the shunter decided to speak.

"You know..."

Twilight's ears sharpened.

"You may have found a nice guy within me..." he said, his voice trailing off.

The unicorn smiled.

His voice came back, more ominous.

"...But that means there's a bastard waiting to come out... From you..."

Twilight smile faded.

"That.. Sounds bad..."

"That's because it IS bad... But it builds and develops character, which is something you'll need from this point onwards.

"Wha...?"

"Trust me on this one."

THE END

Author's Note

We've reached the end of season 1!

Stay tuned for the next season, everypony and everyengine!

Episode 21 - Head Start

Series 2, yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

"Wow..."

"He sure is strong, isn't he?"

"Do you think he's nice?"

"Well, he's th' pal o' th' other diesels, sooo..."

"Then again, Diesel and the others aren't really our... Friends..."

"Still, we should, at least, try to make friends with..."

"Are you CRAYZEH?!" Pinkie gasped "He's so c~r~e~e~p~y!"

"Pinkie!" Twilight snapped "You're being prejudicial! We've been over this a hundred times!"

"I know..." the pink mare replied, sounding most embarrassed "But... Just look at him!"

The enigmatic "him" in question was a dark green Class 42 Warship with white stripes and a large, hydraulic grabber claw on his roof, currently in use, as he was cleaning up the track embankment with it. Clawful after clawful of rusty scrap and other rubbish was lifted and loaded into the trucks on the line beside him.

It was summer again.

Nearly a whole year had passed since "The Incident", as it was later entitled, both by gossiping mouths and official documentations.
Discord has been fulfilling his duty as the "Grand Designer" of the railway, creating architectural wonders for Equestrian Rail - stations, bridges, overpasses, and yard set-ups. Well, he only did the latter once, then he was forbidden to do so, ever again (the town and railway staff of Quaintshilling is still cringes every time).

As for the Other Railway, and their respective drivers and fitter...

They couldn't complain.

Two shunters and a powerful goods engine has joined them in the standstill quest for arseholerism, and things were going smooth. Sure there was the monthly accident of malevolent force to deal with, but nothing too over the top - the winter was nice, cool enough for Derek and snowy enough to keep the engines' plowing skills intact, but not too cold or snowy to make leaving the perimeters of the yard a dead option.

The spring was positively beautiful, especially after Fluttershy and some other ponies from the town planted an entire orchard of cherry blossom trees on a short, steeper part of the meadow on the far side of the yard. Where they got them was another question, but the staff and the engines had a hunch it was due to the shy pegasus' connection with the princesses, as the orchard was half pink, half light blue, containing the rare, midnight cherry trees - items from Princess Luna's personal garden.

And now, with the larger portion of summer behind them, engines and equines alike were beginning to feel... A peculiar emotion...
A feeling that they couldn't bare or stand, that snuck into their harts and shrouded their minds in the dead of the night, as they lay (or stood) awake, waiting for the dreams to take away the worries into Neverland.

They had to occupy their minds with other thoughts, and they jumped on every opportunity.

For the mares, one such option was to shamelessly spy on the newest members of the Other Railway.

As Diesel 10, or Vincent, loaded the trucks with debris, Splatter or Dodge showed up, taking them away, always returning in time for the next loaded one. It was a well thought-out, well-oiled machine - their movements were almost synchronized. Finally, as the Warship finished with the last lump, and the dark purple and gray shunter took the last truck away, the claw which became the main object of the ponies' interest retreated to the top of his roof. With a low rumble and hydraulic whir, he rolled forward, leaving a trail of thin, dark gray smoke.

As he disappeared around the bend, Twilight and the others continued their observation - or rather, their stalking.

"Well, wut do ya make of tha'?" Applejack asked "He's very strong."

"And fast." Rainbow Dash added "I've seen him yesterday, speeding down the line. He's at least as fast as Stuck-Up!"

"He seemed very delicate with that claw - well, as delicate as one can get with that thing!" put in Rarity "Do you think he's nice?"

"He has a claw on his roof." Pinkie stated dryly "What do you think?"

"Now you sounded just like Diesel!" Twilight snapped impatiently "Except he was nowhere as prejudicial as you are!"

"Pinkie, it's not right to judge someone by his looks!" the white unicorn added in a huff "You have to know their feelings, their personality... The content of their character!"

"Yeah!" said Applejack, glaring at the pink mare "Take Discord, fer example..."

She thought for a moment.

"Well, OK, maybe not Discord, but..."

But Pinkie had already latched onto her comment.

"And speaking of Discord!" she snapped "He tried to turn him into butchery product!"

"No, he didn't!" Rainbow snapped back "He was joking - obviously!"

"Well, Ah don' kno', Rainbo'..." the applefarmer spoke "Ya can nevah kno' i' with th' diesels..."

"There! See?!" Pinkie cried.

"That doesn't mean anything!" Twilight grunted "Discord had done some pretty cruel and horrid things in the past! He brought chaos and havoc into Equestria, twice! He almost ruined our friendship! Celestia knows what he would've done if we hadn't stopped him!"

"Make more cotton candy clouds with chocolate milk rain..." the party pony grumbled under her breath...

"Look, I still can't understand why you antagonize that engine so much!" Rarity muttered "What did he ever done to you?"

"He tried to butcher Discord!" Pinkie yelled, stubbornly.

"He was trying to take over Equestria, even after the Princesses had offered him a chance to redeem himself!"

"He tried to butcher Discord!" the pink pony repeated, quickly loosing patience.

"And did he actually do it? NO!" Twilight snapped.

"He TRIED. To BUTCHER. Discord!"

"You can't know...! Ugh..." Rainbow was growing more and more irritated "Look! Just because you've fallen head over hooves for that freak doesn't mean that you should act like that to everyone!"

"You'll find yourself very alone very soon if you keep up with this behavior!" Twilight added, her voice sounding dangerously ire "I'm warning you, Pinkie, I don't want to be the friend of presumptuous, prejudicial pony!"

"But he tried to...!"

"I did no'."

The mares froze.

Diesel 10 was right beside them, glowering at them with a great hint of disinterest.

How long he had been parking there? How much did he heard from their argument?

They felt the ground heat up under their hooves.

"W-Well, girls, I gotta go." the librarian muttered with an awkward smile "I... I haven't arranged sector 'E' yet..."

And she promptly teleported away.

"My, she IS quick all of a sudden, isn't she?" Rarity muttered, sounding quite unimpressed and disappointed. She then cast a side glance at the Warship.

"Well, I must be off, too..." she said, with as much dignity as she can muster "I still haven't finished my latest gown."

"A-An' Ah got apples ta buck!" Applejack added, and the two trotted away.

"I have a... Cloud... To catch..." the polychromatic mare was finding increasingly difficult to excuse herself. With the engine's powerful gaze upon her, she felt her tongue twist into a knot within her mouth - See you around!

Vincent "hmph"ed, and the turned his glower at the remaining two ponies.

Pinkie narrowed her eyes.

"I'll be keeping my eyes on you!" she uttered, taking a step back "...You meanie!2

He then took a few steps back, then turned tail, and ran.

The diesel then turned his gaze towards the last mare.

Fluttershy looked back it him with sincerity.

After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat.

"Well... Dey seem ta be ou'a' characte' this mornin'..."

"I'm sorry about that..." the mare replied "It's just that the end of the summer is getting closer. It's always rouses our feelings. Nopony knows, why..."

"Probabley th' sudden realization of th' passage o' time." Vincent mused, glancing at the sky...

Another pause.

Suddenly, the mare's eyes brightened.

"Was it..." she pondered openly, before turning to the machine "Was that you who saved me back in Sunnytown?"

He thought for a moment...

"...So Dat's wha' tha' dump was call'd? Sunnytown?"

"Yes..." she replied, and her eyes brightened once more "So it WAS you!"

"Yeh." he muttered, cutting the conversation again.

There was another, awkward pause.

The silence was deafening.

Then came a sound.

A chirp.

It was a swallow, a fork-tailed one.

It flew around above them, looking for place to rest.

"Oh, it's Waverin." Fluttershy peep "She must have gotten lost again. Poor thing, she has a horrible sense of direction."

"Ya... Kno' her?" Vincent was amused "Wha's it... She's doin' 'ere?"

Fluttershy wasn't listening. She was trying to calm down the rustled bird.

"Come on down now, Ms. Waverin!" she called "Everything is all right, just... Settle down for a bit."

Diesel 10's gaze commuted between the mare and the swallow. Then, without a thought, he raised his arm.

"Oh! PLEASE! DON'T HURT HER!" Fluttershy screamed, watching with utter horror as the large hydraulic appendage lifted itself from the diesel's roof, and began to turn towards the air-space where the swallow way flying.

Fluttershy shut her eyes, and covered them up with her hooves.

"PLEASE! I BEG OF YOU! DON'T..."

The chirping stopped.

Trembling, she took a peek.

Waverin was sitting comfortably on the arm of the diesel's claw, which he left, suspended in the air.

"O-Oh..."

The pegasus felt embarrassed.

"Ay may loo' grisly..." said Vincent, his mouth curling into a comforting smile "Bu'... Ya can' judge a tree by i's bark, naw can ya?"

Slowly, Fluttershy smiled back at him, her tension easing.

They began to chat.

About work, about their pasts, about their friends - or colleges - and about life in general.

As it turned out, Vincent had quite an adventurous life, and although he wasn't exactly a "hero" type of engine, he had held his own.

Heck, in terms of personality, he was more social than some of the Other Railway's dastardly bunch...

After half an hour, the two were talking as if they've been friends since always. Or, at least, acquaintances...

Suddenly, the diesel took notice of the fidgeting of the mare. She was constantly trying to look behind her shoulder, opening her wings individually.

"Sam'in' wron'?" he asked.

"Oh, it's nothing..." Fluttershy sighed, then groaned quietly, shifting her weight "It's just that... I'm itching between the wings."

"...An' ya can' reach i'..." Vincent muttered, before ordering "'Old still!"

His claw began to move, hovering over Fluttershy, where it stopped, and began a slow descend.

"W-What are you...? - the shy pony muttered, looking utterly terrified.

"Tras' me, lass." the Warship replied "No', spread your wings!"

Shaking, Fluttershy complied, standing still, as the large grabber lowered atop her back. When it was inches from it, the claw opened, moving one half away from the mare, while the other inched closer, one teeth of it brushing the fur above her spine.

"Oh my CELESTIA!" came a cry "HE'S GOING TO IMPALE HER!"

Vincent stopped, and looked up.

It was the pink one, standing out from a bush, and pointing a blaming... Hoof at him.

He ignored it, and returned to the task at "hand".

As gently as he could, he lowered it even further, until the tip touched her skin under her fur.

Then, he began to move his claw.

Back and forth.

Just an inch's worth of movement.

Scratching the mare's back.

"Oh! Oh... Oooooohhhh...." Fluttershy's legs quivered. She felt her muscles loosening, as the very tip of the claw's sharp tooth scratched the itchy spot between her wings. She squeaked gracefully, before dropping down on her four knees, the grabber following.

"Ah don' see anythin' wrong here, Pinkie..." Applejack spoke, with a smile in her voice "The feller's just givin' Fluttershy a court'sy backrub."

"With his CLAW!" the pink mare snapped "That's just BEGGING for an accident!"

"Well, true, it isn't the most safest method..." Twilight admitted "But then again, Diesel 10 is probably an expert with his own device."

"Yeah, and from what I heard from 'Arry and Bert, he's really smooth." Rainbow Dash added.

"That's because his arm works with a hydraulic motion." the purple unicorn explained, with a hint of expertise and pride "He's capable of being both a destructive force and perform smooth, gentle movement."

The others "Ahh"d and nodded, before the polychromatic pegasus brought up a question:

"Isn't he a diesel-hydraulic, anyway?"

Silence...

"Does it really matter?" Rarity asked in a tired voice. Trivial questions DID bore her - a trait she picked up from Old Stuck-Up, among many others.

Vincent felt relaxed.

He was at peace.

Now, the only problem remaining...

...Was that nagging feeling deep down in his metallic heart, that told him that the peace couldn't last...

"WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHH!"

The sound of a steam engine's shrill, deep whistle echoed around the line.

The next second, pushing a cloud of scorching hot steam in front of himself, 84576 burst into the scene, towing a long line of trucks. The B17 rocketed past Diesel 10, making him jump. His claw opened wide, a jerked downwards, hitting the ground with an echoing CLANK!

"MAKE WAY! V.I. FREIGHT TRAIN COMING TROUGH!" the blue engine yelled, laughing as he disappeared into the distance, his trucks screaming behind him...

"Slow down! Slow down! You're shaking us apart! Slow down!"

"Overblown kettle!" Vincent growled, grinding his teeth with ire. He then glanced down at the mare.

And his eyes widened with alarm!

Fluttershy was completely hidden behind his opened grabber - he couldn't tell if she was dead or alive.

So, he did the only logical thing...

"Ya OK, miss?"

After a moment of silence, a meek voice replied:

"I... Think so..."

There, came a sigh...

"You startled me..."

"A'm sorry, lass..." he muttered "That puffball scared th' crap outta me!"

"Oh. OK..." she replied, barely whispering "Could you..."

"Wha'?"

"Could you lift your claw off of me? I mean, it's not that it b-bothers me, but..."

"Oh, of course, of course!"

After he placed his claw back on top of his roof, he examined the mare for any injuries.

"Roigh', seems laike yer alright." he grunted after a thorough examination.

"OK." she whispered, before looking up at him "Who was that?"

"84576." the Warship grumbled "The li'le wankah can' shu' 'is own faic a' taimes!"

"Oh... I see..." the mare sighed.

Suddenly, Diesel 10 came up with an idea.

"'Ey, Fluttahshy!" he called out "Ya in fer a prank?"

"Ummm..."

"Trus' me, i's gonna be sweet!"

"...Okay..."

"We'e gonna get ba' a' '576!"

"Oh!"

If one would have looked down the mane line in the following hours, they would've saw a strange thing:

A B17, rocketing down the line and crying like a little girl, trying desperately to escape a growling Class 42 with a large hydraulic claw, extended behind the tender engine and snapping viciously, with a bright yellow pegasus sitting in the diesel's cab, her pink mane flowing in the air, as she laughed maniacally.

Many bystanders on the station platforms had interesting dreams that night.

But let's not get so ahead in time.

Back in the yards, the engines were having a break. It had been a busy day, and the fact that nothing interesting has happened for over 6 months didn't helped in the starting of any conversation.

But they managed.

Because they're that fuckin' smart!

Anyways...

"I've been green since I've known." said Bowler "I had never been painted in any other color. Although, at one time, I was offered to have my cabs painted white, but I rejected the idea."

"When I first came out of the works, I was painted in the standard BR Blue color." Derek added, remembering his own past "Before I was sent to Sodor, however, they decided to paint me in the classic BR Green scheme. Of course, in both cases, I had my yellow warning panels. And to be honest, I always liked the idea of having a white cab, although it does come with a certain "Vintage" feel."

"I've always been painted blue." Stuck-Up put in his own story "Although, when I worked in Yorkshire, I received a different, lighter shade... I think it was "electric blue" or something like that. Then, when I worked near the Thames, I was painted back into my original shade. I WAS supposed to be painted in InterCity colors when I began working with the G.N.E.R., but..." he fell silent, before passing a glower at his colleges "You know, what happened."

"I use' to be BR Gree' as well." Spamcan muttered "Bu' I go' i' changed to th' unifo'm blue afte' meetin' my... Brothe', after comin' hom' from Sodor..."

The other engines stayed respectully silent for a few minutes.

"And what about 'Arry and Bert?" Steamie asked. He had always been painted fluorescent green with white wheel tyres and a black smokebox.

The two shunters were still back at the Ironworks.

"I heard that in the beginning, they were painted BR Green with yellow traction rods." Pip explained "Then they were hired by E.W.S. for a short period of time, and that's when they got their hazard stripes, alongside the usual red and yellow paintjob."

"Afterwards, they kept the yellow stripes on their sides, but their red parts were painted gray." Emma continued "They WERE to be sent to work at Sellafield...

The company let out a collective groan, and many of them shuddered.

"...But in the end, they found someone else." the Class 43 continued "When they were sent to work at the Smelters, they were painted in their dark green-grey color scheme there, along with the yellow cabs."

"Their drivers did a shabby job painting them fully yellow when they were escaping Sodor, but it was washed once they fully joined the Other Railway." Diesel finished "The Ironworks here also painted them fully yellow during the summer heatwaves, but those were temporal paint jobs."

"We've always been painted in the InterCity livery." Pip explained "And Cromwell, as I recall, has always been chocolate brown or red."

"Yes indeed!" came the reply from the far end of the shed, accompanied with an agreeing burp from Mr. Bottomsly.

"I was originally black, like any other working class steamie." BoZo muttered, mostly to himself "But by the time I arrived to the other railway, I was so rusty that it was easier to assume that I was red. So, I was painted red."

"And what about you, Diesel?" the tank engine asked.

Before the shunter could reply, Stuck-Up came up with his own explanation.

"He was always painted black so as to express his political views. Blehehe..."

The others chuckled as well.

"Oh, HA HA!" Diesel snapped "Very funny, Stuck-Up. But considering that I have to spend my time with a bunch of antagonizing bourgeois bastards, it would no surprise if I'd showed up on one of the protests."

"You did, haven't you...?" Derek asked.

Diesel gulped.

The others listened with interest.

"Uhhh... I..."

"Back in 1986, during a big riot, you found your way onto the tram lines, and helped the rioters by becoming a battling ram against the police cordon and several lines of riot police officers."

"The only reason it wasn't so big on the news is because of the Chernobyl incident that happened in the same year..." the shunter muttered "But ANYWAYS, the REAL reason I'm painted black because this is my original color. Most freight and shunting engines back in the '50s were painted black, because this color was the best to cover the dirt spots we inevitably got while working."

"Well, that explains why you "spread" your color ever so often..." said a new voice.

They all looked down at the gathering of ponies.

"How long have YOU been listening?" Stuck-Up asked sharply.

"Eavesdropping, you mean?" Bowler asked with the same tone.

"Not long." Twilight replied simply. She knew the drill by now "What's up?"

"We've been discussing liveries." Derek replied.

"And as I was saying, before being rudely interrupted, my livery is like this for PRACTICAL reasons." Diesel snarled "If you want to see a REAL propaganda train, though, then take a look at James!"

"Eeeuggh... Propaganda train?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"An interesting invention from the early years of the Soviet Union." Derek explained "A propaganda train is, well, a train that serves as a tool of propaganda."

"No manure..." the pegasus replied, rolling her eyes.

"It contains a printing press for leaflets, it's painted red or has communist symbols or agitprop on it, perhaps has revolutionary quotes and mottos written on it. It travels the country, bringing the idea to the rural masses."

"And as I was saying, James would be a good example of one."

"Who's James?" Pinkie asked.

"Isn't that that red mix-traffic engine, the same type as Eagle?" Derek asked. He'd never gotten the chance to met Sodor's number 5 engine when he was working on the island.

"Yes, indeed." Bowler replied "Painted from firebox to tender in a bright red color. Just replace his number with a hammer and sickle, give him an ushanka with a hole in it and put it over his funnel, and give him a mustache or beard, and there you have it: Communism on wheels!"

The other engines laughed, but the mares didn't understood the joke (obviously).

"Which facial hair, though?" Derek asked, suddenly.

"Hmmm... I say it should be Friedrich Engels'." Stuck-Up replied.

"Why him?" Pip asked.

"Well, he was the one who studied the miserable life and working conditions of the factory workers of Manchester in the 19th century, and that's what urged him to join Marx in the creation of Communism. Also, given that he studied factory workers and visited Manchester, he's more closer to us engines than Marx was."

"...OK..." Pip murmured, then, after a short pause, she asked "Why are we talking about this again?"

"I don't know!" the express engine snapped "Derek brought it up!"

"Sooo... Anything interesting down the main line?" Rarity asked, sensing another meaningless argument. She, like the rest of her friends, have gotten quite used the demeanor of the engines, and learned quite a few things from them. Phrases of slang, for example.

"...Nothing much." Bowler explained "As a matter of fact, things have been quite a bore, recently."

"Same here." Derek added "We've almost finished the forest branch line that will connect us with Gaslight City, but the regional leaderboard decided that it should be electrified as well."

A groan rose from the engines.

"...Anythin' else?" Applejack asked "I know there's nothin' new or interestin' in the freight service."

"Well, apa' from a larg' numbe' o' RailFreigh' eng'nes tha' hav' arri'ed..." her engine barked in.

"That reminds me!" Stuck-Up smiled, his eyes lighting up "I saw one of the Blue Pullman engines in Manehattan Central the other day."

The others whistled and grumbled with delight and agreement.

But the mares seemed confused.

"You lost us there..."

"The Class 251 or 261 diesel-electric multiple units, also known as Blue Pullmans, where luxurious passenger trains that were the poster figures of the Modernization Plan. Initiated in the late '50s, these trains are hard to come by these days."

"Well..." Twilight spoke, in a sing-song voice "It is rumored that the Princesses want to put a number of fixed-up prototype diesels back into the fleet to show of!"

Oddly enough, the engines didn't seemed amused.

"Do they?" Derek asked, sounding quite nonchalant.

"What's the matter?" Rarity asked "Aren't you glad that the pioneers of your kind will come back."

"No' really." Spamcan replied "Ya see, dese eng'nes were often major scre'-ups o'r on'-hi'-wonde's bac' in deir time."

"AND they were often quite arrogant." Stuck-Up added.

"Yeah. Just take Stuck-Up and square him, and you'll understand." Diesel snickered.

The others laughed as the Class 40 had one of his hissy fits yet again.

But as the chatter quieted down, Twilight continued earnestly.

"A number of prototype engines will have their last trials done here, in our section, perhaps, even located in our yard."

"What do their trials revolve around?" Diesel asked.

"Performance tests and social interaction, mostly."

"Oh. THIS will be lovely..." the Class 08 groaned, before realizing something "Wait! How do you know all this?"

"The Leaderboard has informed Dr. Whooves in person and me via letter about it." she answered "The first two engines will arrive tomorrow. I don't know their names yet, only their numbers: D0260 and D0280."

Silence followed.

The engines seemed to be deep in thought.

Suddenly, Stuck-Up eyes brightened up.

"That's... That's Lion and Falcon!"

And with that, the tension left.

"That's a good start." Derek muttered.

"How so?" Fluttershy asked, stepping into the shed.

"Well..." Bowler began "Both engines had been regarded as being modest and WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!"

The mare cringed, before smiling awkwardly...

"Out... Taking Vincent for a stroll... Down the main line?" she muttered with a wry smile.

"Yeah, and SOME stroll that had been!"

The others looked up, as CoBo rolled into the shed, parking down next to Spacman. Gilda got out from the cab.

"We've found 84576 stuck in a haystack after coming off the line in a bend, near the fields." She explained "A rescue is underway, but we had to take his driver and fireman into the nearest hospital."

Fluttershy cringed again.

"Nothing serious, though" the griffon went on "Minor concussion, small bruises, that sort of thing."

"How did it happen, anyway?" Emma asked "'576 isn't exactly a novice engine, and the trucks haven't really been that troublesome recently."

"Apparently..." the avian mused "He was chased..."

"Chased?" Applejack gasped "By who?"

"Diesel 10."

All eyes fell on Fluttershy, and the yellow pegasus squirmed, trying to pull herself together into a small space.

"Well..." Twilight spoke up, after a long and awkward pause "I'm glad that at least ONE of us had made friends with him."

"Is that really a good thing?" the pink party pony asked.

"Pinkie!"

Episode 22 - The Trials No.1.: Flim-Flam-Flop

The prototype diesels arrived early next morning.

For a moment, all work stopped in the usually bustling yard, as the two magnificent engines rolled into view.

Lion was a large, pure white colored main line diesel with white 'Co' bogies and rail tyres. His face, white as his paint, with the silvery handrail going around above it, made it impossible to place his numberplate on that end. When he passed someone, however, the numberplate on his other cab was revealed to be set to "0000".

"So, that's Lion?" Twilight asked.

"Yeah." Diesel replied "A Type 4. I think he was the predecessor of Brush's class."

The white diesel purred towards them.

"Hello!" he said, cheerily. "You must be Diesel!"

Moderately surprised, the shunter replied:

"And you're Lion." he muttered, matter-of-factually. The large engine smiled.

"Pleased to meet you!" he replied kindly. His voice sounded very regal.

"How can we help you?" Twilight asked.

"I'm looking for the schedule of tonight's express train." he explained "From Canterlot to Manehattan, I believe."

"Ah." the Class 08 muttered, before looking towards the sheds "Then consult with Old Stuck-Up over there. He's the Class 40, the Rail Blue one with the monocle. Number 40125."

"Thank you!" Lion replied, and with a roar, he trundled towards the sheds.

"He seems to be a kind sort." Twilight commented.

"A bit too conceited for my taste." Diesel grunted.

"Nah. He's just self-confident." the unicorn replied "Although, I had to admit, I've never seen an engine who was so... Sooo..."

"Creamy?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he's been in service for 18 months in total, before being withdrawn and scrapped." the shunter explained "In fact, his withdrawal was shrouded in mystery for the longest time."

"Well, he's back now! We met him in the... Metal."

"Indeed. Now, let's see about Falcon!"

Falcon, the only Class 53 ever to be built, was somewhat longer, painted lime green with a chestnut colored stripe going along the bottom of his body, and in between the ventilation grilles.

He hummed quietly, slowly approaching the shunter.

There was an uncomfortable pause as he came to a stop next to them.

"Welcome." the Class 08 greeted him simply.

"Good day." he replied "I'm here on trial. You must be Diesel."

"Yes." came the short answer "And you're Falcon, right?"

"Indeed."

Falcon gazed around.

"I was supposed to be taking local passenger and freight trains as part of my test. Where can I find them?"

"The next freight train isn't due until noon." Diesel replied "And Bowler had already left with the local stopping train. You can consult with him when he returns."

"And... Regarding the goods service?"

"Just ask Spamcan. He's being hosed down at the moment." he squinted as he looked towards the far end of the yard "You'll notice him quite easily. Class 46. Covered in filth, dents, scratches, dust, splodges, and graffiti. Unshaven. Dented nose. Broken middle windscreen. Number D199."

"Ah... Than you." Falcon replied, rumbling off.

"He seemed a bit... Stand-off-ish." the unicorn muttered "Cold, even."

"He's the earnest type." the shunter explained "Which makes the arseholerism of Brush Traction even more of a piss take."

"What happened?"

"After B.R. no longer required him, the guys at Brush decided to scrap him A.S.A.P., so that no-one else can make profit out of him. Even though preservation societies showed up with hands full of money, they still did him in. The bastards!"

Twilight had to agree.

While Lion got into a pleasant chat with Old Stuck-Up to catch up on the events of Earth in the past 60 or so years, Falcon approached idling Spamcan.

"Hello." he greeted him.

"'Ello." the Class 46 replied "Ye'r' Falcon, righ'?"

"Yes. I'm here for the midday goods train's schedule."

"So yer goin' t' ta'e th' noo' goo's?" Spamcan asked.

"As part of my trial, yes."

"Ah, wic'e', man!" the goods engine exclaimed, then began to trace the schedule "Righ', i'll star' f'om he'e, pic' u' sum lo'al da'ry a' Hoofin'ton, then com' bac' down th' li'e, all th' way t' Manehatt'n. Oh, don' forge' t' ma'e brief sto's a' th' small statio's in be'wee'." he went on "Ya shoul' arri'e t' Manehatt'n Cen'ral wi'h an em'y trai'. De'e, you'll pic' u' se'eral fla'beds loa'ed wi'h aggr'ga'o's. Ta'e 'em to th' transfe' yard up a' Neighgoro'. Dey'll hav' t' arrive a' Stalliongra' Sou'h Cen'ral. Dey may rope ya i' fo' sum shun'in' dere, bu' ya can decline i'. Afte'war's, ge' bac' 'ere wi'hou' crashin' o' pic'in' figh' wi'h sum'on' alon' th' way. Shoul' be easy, though. Eng'nes in th' Nor' East'rn Region ar' fr'enly sor's. Lou', bu' fr'enly."

"Anything I should be wary of?"

"My brothe', Sulzer." it was amazing how fast Spamcan's expression changed from pleased to sullen "He's bee' spo'ed i' dese parts."

"Yes, I believe I have heard about him. - the Class 53 muttered - Anyways, what'll you do then?"

"Meh. Go' my afte'noo' appl' run t' Can'e'lo'."

"Right, right."

And with that, Falcon considered his job done, and rumbled off to the sidings.

Meanwhile, Lion was wrapping up his conversation with Old Stuck-up.

"...So, anyways, anything I should be worried of?"

The Class 40 thought for a moment.

"Not that I know of, no." he replied "Maybe in Manehattan Central. There's a Jubilee class engine by the name of Conrad there." his voice turned grim "Ripe red. An egocentric, xenophobic prick. Avoid him."

"Got it." said Lion, wishing he would be able to nod to enhance his understanding.

"Anyways..." the express engine went on "There are more engines to meet here (although none is as sophisticated and lectured as I am)! There's Bowler, for example. The young lad is very sincere and likes to keep things clean... A bit TOO clean, even. And then, there's Cromwell. A bit aloof, but still, a good chap. His tender, on the other hand..."

The white engine raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I heard he's sophisticated." Stuck-Up explained "But as the fuel container of a gas turbine locomotive, he has little control over his bowels. He goes by the name of Mr. Bottomsly."

"Ooookaaay..." it was at that point that Lion slowly backed away from the Class 40, and rolled off to find someone else to talk to.

At the turn of noon, Falcon left with his line of trucks to Hoofington.

After consulting with Bowler, the green Class 53 calculated that if he's quick, he'll be able to take the afternoon stopping train. Needless to say, the uppity engine took him on that offer.

As the last of the trucks passed the signal gantry, the engines and their drivers gathered in the shed. Falcon was yet to join them.

"He seems like a simple sort of engine..." Derek commented "Very straightforward."

"More like very abundantly lacking in character." Stuck-Up growled "He didn't even had the common courtesy and sense to introduce himself to ME!"

"Don't be like that, Sir Alaric..." Rarity soothed him "I'm sure he didn't mean it."

"Yeah, he's probably jus' absolved in 'is job." Applejack added.

"He definitely doesn't AVOID work as much as YOU GUYS do!" Pip sneered.

"I DO beg your pardon!" Bowler snapped "We've ALL been doing honest work since we arrived into Equestria! I don't know what YOU are complaining about! All you two girls have to do is the InterCity rounds!"

"Weeeell, we HAVE been built specifically for that..." Emma mused "Although, a bit of change wouldn't hurt..."

"Anyways, didn't you just buffered over your afternoon run to Falcon?" Pip went on, stiffling a giggle.

"Well, he DOES need to familiarize himself with the line!" the green diesel retorted "And the stations."

"Yeah, right..." the twins giggled. This proved to be contagious.

Bowler just "hmph"ed, and reversed deeper into the shadows of the shed, sulking.

"Oh, come on now, Bowler!" Trixie called out to him.

"Just let him be, Trixie!" Derek chuckled "He'll come out when he wants..."

"From the closet, you mean?" Diesel snickered "I doubt it!"

The uppity engine sunk deeper into the shadows as everyone burst out in a seemingly unstoppable guffaw, apart from the azure mare, who was growing desperate.

"Cut it out, guys!" she said.

Old Stuck-Up chortled.

"I don't know WHY you would try to coax him back into the light." he mused "What doesn't kill him will only make him stronger. And a bit of seclusion wouldn't hurt anyone."

"...Then go."

"What?"

"I said GO!" Trixie snapped, surprising the others "You just said, quote, that "a bit of seclusion wouldn't hurt anyone". And I'm pretty sure that a refined such as yourself would not preach something he doesn't practice." she hissed "So LEAVE!"

After a few minutes of staring with their jaws dropped, Stuck-Up and Rarity "hmph" as well, and with their noses pointed towards the sky, they left the shed, departing towards the fuel depot.

Slowly, the others recovered as well.

"'ey! Whut was THAT for?" Applejack snapped.

"Yeah, it's unlike you to just... Tell ponies, or engine, off like that." Rainbow Dash added.

"What's the matter?" Fluttershy asked "Is something... Bothering you?"

In a flash, Trixie went from aggressive to coy.

"It's just that..." she began "Me and Bowler look after each other..."

"Sure, just like the rest of us." Rainbow nodded, before smiling at the two shunters under her care. 'Arry smirked, while Bert beamed back at her.

"I know..." the blue unicorn went on "But it's... Eh... I don't like it when people purposefully make it miserable for him..."

The others stared. Bowler rolled forward a bit.

"I think... It's because of how I suffered, when..." she bit off the end of the sentence.

The others stared at the ground, awkwardly.

They haven't talked about the ill-fated Magic Duel, ever since it's occurrence.

The Alicorns' Challenge, which took out everything from the two fighters, left nothing but devastation: Twilight, who's magic had temporarily, while her self-confidence had seemingly permanently suffered it, came out as victor, and Trixie, who had died during, and had been reanimated after the battle, lost her cutie mark, and the call of her special talent.

The Duel had drained Twilight of her will, so when they faced Discord for the second time, she allowed Diesel and the others to "influence" her and her friends, which meant, that as the main bearer, the Bearer of the Element of Magic, she failed to keep herself, and consequently, her friends, from corruption.

Things turned out better, of course, but it left her feeling worried.

If Diesel, an essentially un-magical being was able to corrupt her so easily...

Then what would it take from the powers that created Nightmare Moon?

Or King Sombra?

Heck, seeing trough changeling magic was hard enough, and SHE was the only one who managed. And even then, she had to rely on her intuition.

Guilt was also a big issue.

No matter what happened, Twilight began to feel more and more grateful for having Diesel to consult and work with. The shunter's own worldly experience and amazing power of... Observation... Has been one of his greatest asset in confrontations.

If she would've asked him, or any of his associates about... That...

It could've been avoided.

And Trixie would still have her mark.

She would still have a goal to strive for. To live for.

And she, Twilight would finally be able to sleep without those restless hours of guilt.

Perhaps, one day...

But until then, she had to pay the price for her...

Well...

For her stupidity.

It was also quite morbid that she hadn't been charged for murder. Even though Trixie was resurrected, that was still murder.

Well, it was in defense, so it technically counts as mare-slaughter.

And, usually at this point, Twilight stopped thinking about it, so as to avoid getting even more severe nausea.

Trixie wasn't fairing well, either. Without a cutie mark, and a talent to guide her in her life, she didn't know where to go or who to ask.

The Princesses tried their best to aid the problem, but with such an archaic spell used, they soon found themselves stumped.

It was no surprise that the mare shared a bond her engine.

The other mares got along with their own locomotive as well. But none shared the same mutual respect that the unicorn and the green diesel showed towards each other. Not even Rarity and Old Stuck-Up, and they had been supporting one another from day one, regardless of their differences.

The conversation ended just like that. Awkwardly.

Engines and mares went back to their work.

Come the turn of noon, the engines realized that Falcon hasn't returned yet.

Yards were contacted, signal boxes were informed. Apparently, the olive diesel had already made it's way to Manehattan Central with the dairy train, and headed off towards the northern border.

Stalliongrad South was called, and it was revealed that their load of aggregators DID arrive, but in the usual bustle of the transfer yard, they didn't see who brought it in.

From that point onwards, Falcon had seemingly vanished.

Dr. Whooves contacted numerous stations and signalponies, but none could tell where the Class 53 was.

Finally, a call came in - the during the guard mount, the leaving signalmare mentioned an unclassified green diesel passing under the gantry.

With no headcode or train visible, he was diverted onto an industrial line.

The switch to the industrial line was beyond Trottingham Junction, but not close enough to Hoofington. Still, it belonged to that yard, as the tracks joined into main line from the other direction.

After a bit of thinking, the Doctor realized that THAT was the dual line running behind Sweet Apple Acres.

He alerted Spamcan and Applejack, and the two raced off.

Meanwhile, it was getting late, and there was no engine to pull the afternoon stopping train - Bowler had left to deliver a train of bleach tankers from the chemical combinat, Cromwell was getting tuned up (an overhaul long since required), and Lion was getting ready for the evening express. Pip and Emma had left a moment ago to help out an electrified branch line which suffered from a complete power failure, leaving the brown stallion with Old Stuck-Up.

The express engine, as predicted, wasn't at all pleased, but after a bit of coaxing from his driver, and at the promise of a bottle of Scotch, he rolled over to the prepared coaches, who squealed in delight as they noticed that the express diesel was pulling them.

With that out of the way, the Doctor could concentrate on the issue at hoof: Falcon.

Boarding Vac, with his assistant Ditzy Doo driving, they set off towards the Sweet Apple Backtrack.

Ahead of them, near the small yard behind the Acres, Applejack and Spamcan had already figured out where Falcon was.

The olive engine was stuck in one of the sidings, merely waiting for the line to be open.

A wagon of extravagant size and shape parked on the small utility crossing that ran across the rails at the end of the yard, blocking the diesels way towards the marshalling yard.

The cowmare recognized the wagon. And swore under her breath.

"Wha's up?" Spamcan asked, looking up ahead.

"Th' Super-Speedy-Cider-Squeezy-6000..." she muttered.

"...Th' WUT-no'?"

As the applefarmer explained about the wagon, it's owners finally presented themselves.

And Applejack had to take a long, deep breath, just to keep her ire in check.

The two stallions looked almost identical, dressed identical, and had the same color pattern: fur as yellow as an apple's core, mane and tail playing in crimson with white stripes, and the vests, bow ties and boater hats of old-fashioned conmen were recognized for.

One also had mustache, which was practically the only way to differentiate between them - well, aside from their cutie marks.

The two unicorns made their merry way towards the engine.

"Well, lookie here, brother of mine." one began "If it isn't Applejack."

"Fair maiden of Sweet Apple Acres." the other added "The most prized and famous farmland in this side of Equestria."

"Wha' th' Hell do you two want?" D199 growled.

"Nothing." Flim replied.

"Nothing but justice." Flam put in.

"Justice? What are ya talkin' about?!" Applejack snapped "An' move yer wagon out of th' way! Yer blockin' th' lines!"

"Are we?" Flam smirked "Well, isn't that a shame?2

"Shame for two entrepreneurs, who had lost their game in the great race of the market." Flim mused.

"Th' HELL ar' ya bablin' abou'?!" the goods engine snapped.

"I know..." his driver muttered "We beat ya, fair an' square. I'll admit, it would've been wiser fer ya t' open one of the earlier barrels ya've made durin' th' contest, but what's dun' is dun'."

"Is it?" Flim asked, innocently.

"Look. You're still on th' tracks, which means you're blockin' th' way." the mare retorted "In other words, ye're holdin' up traffic!"

"Dese tracks belon' t' Equestrian Rail." Spamcan added "Ye're causin' delay, which d'roga'es th' honor of th' railway, an' c'nsequently, th' Princesses as well."

"They own th' railway." Applejack muttered.

"Do they?" Flam asked, sounding rather unimpressed "Well, in that case, they'll just have to listen to us..."

A few hundred meters down the line, a work-stained RailFreight diesel, and his two crew members - a bubbly mare and troubled Time Lord - exchanged worried looks upon hearing the cidermaker's comment.

"We better inform the Chairmare!" Dr. Whooves decided, putting Vac in reverse.

When they arrived, the two ponies rushed into the office, leaving the gray diesel standing beside the platform, engines still running.

"What's the matter, Vac?" Old Stuck-Up asked. He had just returned with what was inarguably Equestria's fastest stopping train, and was in a charitable mood "You seem worked up."

"I just arrived from the Apple family's industrial line!" the Class 31 turned Class 50 replied "Falcon has been diverted onto it because he forgot to set his headcode!"

"I see..." the express engine replied "Truly a beginners' mistake, but who could blame him? The poor devil didn't had the longest service life, that's for sure!"

"That's not the issue!" Vac gasped.

"Is it? And why isn't he here, yet?" Stuck-Up pondered out loud "He hasn't broken down, has he? That would be rather unfortunate on his first..."

"No!" the RailFreight engine yelled "He's being held up!"

"Held up?" the Class 40 gaped "Wha...? How...? By who?!"

"A pair of entrepreneurs named Flim and Flam..."

""Entrepreneurs"? You mean, businessmen?"

"Businesscolts, rather..." Vac replied "Anyways, they're more like conmen, and apparently, they have a bone to pick with Applejack, so they held up traffic on the Apple family's backtrack.

"Outrageous!" Stuck-Up roared "Don't they realize that they're holding up traffic?!"

"That's exactly why they parked their wagon on the rails!" the gray engine went on "They want to talk with the Princesses as well, so it's like to birds with one stone for them!"

"DISTORTING!" the express engine bellowed, roaring off towards the yard.

The news soon spread down the line, and the reaction wasn't delayed, not even by a second.

Everyone, every engine, coach and truck was infuriated.

"They have the idiotic audacity to stand up against such an honorable industry like ours?" Euston, the Patriot class steam engine shouted, seething with fury, as he stood among his equally enraged peers "These leeches have done nothing but ruin our lives and the lives of many for the sake money!"

"They privatized us and gave all of us a bad name!" an electric engine yelled at his surprised crew.

"Engines and rolling stock lived the life of prostitutes on the whim of the private contractors!" Pip and Emma screeched at a very closely listening crowd "And it's all because of bastards like them!"

"They lobbied at sycophantic politicians for their cause, dooming their own countries!" Sulzer hissed to group of workponies "They sold us off to those cunts, and now look at us! We had to run away from our own world, just to survive!"

"Disturbing!" Derek grumbled "When our railway was led by one of them turned chairman, steam and diesel was withdrawn in entire classes, and lines were shut down in masses!"

"And did it helped them? NO!" CoBo grunted "All it was good for that the railway undercut itself in favor of road lobby!"

"Richard Beeching was his name." Cromwell shouted to a large gathering on the platform next to him "He was the mad axeman of the rails! He was supposed to save British Railways from being choked by dept. And instead, he went forth and outright murdered it! The road-lobbying government turned this mediocre businessman into our chairman! They KNEW he was going to screw us up as he "streamlined" our railway, but that's exactly why they selected him, personally!"

"Disorienting!" Bowler wailed to the workers of the chemical plant "We've ran away from our home to be safe from the grubby hands of big business, and for a short time, we were! But now, our fate has caught up with us! Common businessmen have the cheek to cross the Princesses, both our and your leaders!"

"And they aren't even REAL businessmen!" Stuck-Up shouted to the crowd of workponies around him "They're just conmen trying to make a fortune out of the obstruction of the national railway! They hold up one of my comrades for ransom!"

The crowd, and all the crowds gathering around preaching engines, coaches and trucks, were getting agitated.

"We engines had to suffer from merciless and uncaring tie-necks, empowered or enriched, for FAR TOO LONG!" Diesel shouted "Now, they make an attempt at our lives once more, and this time, they care NOT about what they sweep aside in order to reach their goal. They now endanger YOU, the working equines as well!"

The crowd, still growing in size, began to roar, cheering at the words of the engine, and booing at the thought of the conponies.

"We shall stand to this nonsense for the LAST TIME!" the shunter went on" Businessmen and slimy politicians have been the death of entire classes! They've withdrawn us mercilessly, no matter our age or our conditions! Now, two amateurs of their own, disgusting field thinks that they can grease the hooves of the Princesses themselves!"

The crowd went mad.

"Seize them!"

"Lynch them!"

"HANG THEM!"

"We practiced tolerance towards them, as we should!" the Class 08 continued "We all hoped they would change, and continue their own, otherwise respectable work while taking regard of the lives and futures may endanger, but our hopes were false! They have ruined our lives for the last time, and had withdrawn the last of us! NO MORE!"

"NO MORE! NO MORE!" the crowd bellowed.

"Vincent!" Diesel called out to the Class 42 "Please, take care of that two "entrepreneurs"! Their parasitic behavior ends NOW! You're the strongest among all of us! Go and withdraw them!"

"Wi'h pleasure!" Diesel 10 smirked, and started off, the long aperture on his top opening, revealing his strong hydraulic claw, which snapped hungrily, throwing sparks as metal met metal.

The crowd began to follow the Warship (apart from a few workponies who knew they had to continue work), roaring all the way.

"WITHDRAW THEM! WITHDRAW THEM!"

Twilight watched, petrified, as the large diesel slipped onto the industrial line, the crow following him like a shadow, shouting all the way, before disappearing into the distance.

As the last of them went out of sight, the words burst out of her.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU STUPID GRONK?!"

Diesel cringed upon hearing his class' nickname, and blinked profusely, as if waking from a fever dream.

"Huh... Wha'?"

"You've just set off a crowd, drooling for the blood of the Flim-Flam brothers!"

After Diesel registered what the mare said, and rewinded the events of the last 20 minutes in his mind, he cursed out loud:

"FUCK! We gotta stop 'em, and quick!"

"Good idea!" Twilight muttered, rolling her eyes, as she set the reverser into "forward" position...

Back at the back of Sweet Apple Acres, the two diesels had a look of utter disdain on their faces.

While the entire line was set ablaze, they heard out the reasoning of the two stallions, and were left - surprise, surprise - rather unimpressed.
Applejack herself was having a hard time, resisting the urge to just turn around, and leave the two conponies to swim in their own stupidity.

Their woes, however, were soon washed away, as they heard the low rumble of an engine's motor. Spamcan recognized it immediately, and a wicked smirk appeared on his face.

The mare still looked puzzled, and exchanged confused looks with Falcon's driver.

It also seemed that the two brothers were having a trouble keeping their damn mouths shut.

"Oh dear, can you hear this, brother?" Flam asked with mock surprise "Sounds like another train is coming!"

"Well, it'll obviously have to stop." Flim replied, sneering "As far as I know, and I had read about the topic, regulations dictate that they should try to stop in case there's something blocking the line!"

The next second, Diesel 10 roared onto the scene on the other track beside Spamcan. He lowered his arm, his claw clamping shut around the middle of the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000, crushing the sofa on it. He lifted off from the rails, above his roof, and then, with a swift move, tossed it aside, onto the far end of the yard.

It landed in the dried out ditch, after turning around numerous axes along the way. The large electron tubes on it were smashed, the great wheels at the front were broken to pieces, along with both axles, the machinery on the back was nothing more than a pile of broken cogs, pipes and wires. The broken sofa, the stand at the front, and what little decoration was on the side of the automobile carriage was now thorn and cowered in mud.

Vincent sneered, as he lowered his claw.

"Nice goin', Vincent!" Spamcan jeered.

"That'll teach 'em!" Applejack smirked.

Still shocked by the sudden destruction of their machine, the brothers took no notice of the raging crow that swarmed the area.

"WITHDRAW THEM! WITHDRAW THEM!" they roared, surrounding the two stallions with absolutely murderous looks on their faces.
The mare and her engine were stunned.

"Th' heck ar' they talkin' about?!" Applejack asked.

"I dunno..." D199 replied "Bu' i' doesn' loo' goo'."

The mass drew closer and closer to the two ponies, encircling them. And the circle began to shrink.

Smaller and smaller and smaller it grew...

As the crowd still roared and screeched:

"WITHDRAW THEM! WITHDRAW THEM!"

"ENOUGH!"

All froze, and slowly, turned towards the source of the voice.

The crowd backed away from around the two stallions, and stared.

The Princesses, along with Discord and Alexei, stood beside Falcon, looking very disappointed.

"Isn't this a bit excessive?" Falcon asked "You can't just leave your office every time something comes up."

The Controller gave him a tired look.

"Dude, I'm practically a freaking supercomputer. I plowed through all the paperwork in a matter of nanoseconds. Heck, I even dealt with all of Celly's backlog."

"...Who's backlog?" the Class 53 asked.

"ANYWAYS..." the Chairmare went on, putting a hoof in front of the figure's mouth "What's going on? Why is there an angry mob?"

She then scoffed.

"There's never an angry mob when I mess up something!" she muttered to herself, sulkily "Why can't I get a honest review of my work?"

After having her sister's mouth covered up, Luna turned to the crowd.

"So, what's wrong?"

Everyone started to talk in the same time.

Alexei finally peeled Celestia's hoof of his mouth.

"SILENCE!" he roared.

Everyone fell silent.

"Well it's clear that NONE OF YOU can make any sense!" he boomed, before turning to the chimera "Discord, you take it from here."

Many gasped.

The draconequus took a good, thorough look on the crowd.

Finding nothing of interest, he moved onto the engines, and their crew.

Falcon and his driver gave him a puzzled look.

Spamcan sniffed, and gave him a look of reticence, while Applejack gazed at him with a mix of defiance and nervousness.

Vincent grinned at him, which made him take aback, especially when he noticed he had no driver.

Finally, he gazed at the Flim-Flam brothers, and, after a bit of thinking, spoke up.

"Well, THEY were encircled by the angry mob, so logically, either they are the culprits of the event, OR, they are the victims of it."

"We are victims!" Flim cried.

"Victims of great injustice!" Flam added.

"Injus'ice, my ARSE!" the goods engine cursed.

"Alright, we'll listen to your story..." the tall figure muttered, crossing his arms "So out with it. Lay it all upon us."

A good 20 minutes later, he wasn't so pleased anymore.

"So you lost the race, because..." he stopped, momentarily, shaking his head with a groan "You rushed in the end, ruining the quality of the last few barrels of cider... Then..."

He groaned again, rubbing his round head...

"You opened the very last barrel of crap quality cider, and lost the race..."

The brothers nodded.

"And now..." Celestia muttered, hardly managing to suppress her own groan "You came back, and block the lines as a form of protest, so as to gain our help in... What exactly?"

"Gain justice!" Flam exclaimed.

"Justice?" Luna uttered, exchanging bemused looks with her sister "You lost, because you were STUPID, fair and square."

"You also boasted that Applejack could get ALL the help in Equestria, and it wouldn't matter to you." Celestia added "Have you taken account of the fact that she's... I don't know... The Element of Honesty?"

The two stallions WERE surprised.

"Uh... No?" Flam replied.

"And as one of the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, AND Canterlot's main supplier of apples, she's one of our closest friend..." the Moon Goddess added "You practically called out fate itself against yourself..."

"Ah contemplated callin' th' Princesses fer help." Applejack spoke up "But Ah thought "Nah, that would be too unfair"..."

"And now... You're here..." Discord finished "Blocking the line..."

"We're on strike." Flim explained.

"We demand our rights to be recognized." his brother added "So we decided to occupy this line so that the Princesses would recognized our cause!"

There was a loud "BANG!".

Ponies looked around, surprised, wandering where the explosion came from.

Slowly, their gazes returned to the four deities.

Alexei had his hand cowering his face, his shattered glasses slowly falling out from under his palm - he had slapped his own face so hard that it left a red imprint of his hand on his gray skin.

He was trembling...

"Uh... Alex?" the older princess asked.

Slowly, the figure's shaking hand slipped down from his face.

His eyes were squinted with rage, and he snarling.

The first sentence burst out of him like a volcano eruption.

"YOU MORONS!"

After the aftershocks have ceased, and everypony got back on their hooves, the figure elaborated his statement.

"Morons!" he repeated "You can't be striking!"

"Why?!" Flim snapped back "Don't we have the right to do so?!"

"No, it's that it doesn't work that way..." Celestia explained, but upon seeing the confused looks on the brothers' faces, she merely sighed, and turned to the others.

"You're freelancers, correct?" Luna asked on a scientific tone.

"We're entrepreneurs!" Flam declared.

"Uh-huh." the younger alicorn mused "That means your not part of any form of organization, like a labor, or trade union... Or am I mistaken?"

"N-No..." the two stallions replied "We aren't."

"Well, there you have it." Alexei exhaled "The right to strike, to protest with the cease of all work, for an indefinite time, as mostly practiced by members of trade-, and labor unions, who had associated to stand up for their rights as workers. They strike in order to achieve something, to gain attention, so that people would listen to what they have to say: that they need higher wages, or better working conditions, new equipment, better treatment, et cetera..."

"The point is..." Celestia continued "That striking is only effective, or indeed meaningful, if a lot of ponies are doing in order to gain attention, or quicken the pace of the authorities' reaction to their pleas. And members are not striking just to get their own back, but also, out of solidarity for their fellow workers. If somepony is on strike, it means that no work gets done, so they aren't getting paid for extended periods of time."

"But you two are freelancers..." Luna went on "You make business on your own, which means, YOU got to look after yourself!"

"For you, being on strike is..." Discord searched for the right word "...Stupidly pointless..."

The brothers finally understood.

They didn't seemed very happy.

"But... Our machine...!" Flim began.

"It's your property." Luna replied coldly "YOU are responsible for it. And as I recall, YOU left it on the railway line, in the path of trains. You were just ASKING for an accident!"

"But that engine...! He...!" Flam tried, pointing an accusing hoof at Diesel 10.

"He did his job, clearing the rails of an obstruction." the white alicorn answered "And since this is... Was... YOUR wagon, YOU were supposed to look after it. Do you have an insurance?"

The two brothers made scrunched faces.

The deities raised an eyebrow.

"Well then." Discord replied, preparing to turn around.

"We're not done here just yet..." Alexei spoke, grabbing the draconequus by the shoulder.

"Aren't we?" he asked back.

"No." the Controller spoke sharply, turning back to the brothers.

Flim and Flam squirmed under the glares of the four deities, as they stood in a half circle.

"The obstruction of a railway line, ANY railway line, is source of delay in the works of the national railway network." the Controller spoke.

"MEANING that passengers or goods can be held up and delayed from reaching their destinations, which can cause both the railway, and the costumers property damage in the form of further delays in other fields of business, and the spoilage of certain goods." the Director continued "Not only that. but it also ruins the honor of the railway, WHICH can to the loss of costumers, which, in turn, causes a not insignificant loss in profit."

"And if the railway looses profit, then, as it is national transport company, the state has to compensate in order to keep it running properly." the Chairmare elaborated "The only way this can be done is through raising taxes, or redirecting the national fund, so that more flows into the rails. I don't think I need to explain that not everyone agrees with rising taxes, not to mention that the rails aren't the only thing the state needs to spend money on.

"But... But this is just an industrial line..." Flim muttered.

"That may be..." the princess went on, before glancing at Falcon "But as part of the railway network, it plays an important part in relieving the main line from congestion and traffic pressure."

"Also..." her sister added "This particular line is under the supervision of the Apple family, as the only facility of any sorts that this line is connected to is their farmland."

"Although they don't OWN the rails..." Alexei explained "They have the appointed right to use it, as they are the ones who'll most likely make use of it, and can rightfully consider, AT THE VERY LEAST, this small yard to be their property."

"So, in this case..." Applejack concluded "Yer not only causin' trouble fer th' Princesses, ye're also trespassing and causin' a mess fer me!"

"Well, lads..." Spamcan smirked "You're in a 'eap o' trouble!"

"But don't feel threat..." Luna hummed, giving them a cheshire grin "I'm pretty sure that our railway will be gracious and accept you among it's employees, as you pay back all the property damage..."

"Or shall I say... Get the bits to fix your wagon?" Discord added, grinning the same way.

The brothers gulped in unison.

And then, the two alicorns, the draconequus, and the former wanderer took their turns to look puzzled.

"All the same..." the controller muttered "Why the angry mob?"

Members of said group exchanged looks.

Just then, Discord spotted something in the corner of his eye.

He first thought it was just a floater, but decided it was best if he checked.

"Do YOU TWO know anything about it?"

Diesel froze, teeth gritted.

Twilight poked her head out of the cab, a strained grin on her face.

Their supperiors gave them a long stare.

"Uuuuuuuuhhhh..." the shunter began.

"Ummmmmm..." the mare went on.

"WE CAN EXPLAIN!" they spoke in unison.

And that, dear readers, is how Flim and Flam ended up in the railway business.

Well, in the railway, anyways...

At first, they tried to work in the buffet cars, but as it turned out, they were only as good at making drinks as their machine was.
So - at the speed of light, in terms of bureaucracy -, they were repositioned into good old-fashioned manual labor... Within the fields of shunting...

But hey!

At least Splatter and Dodge got their respective drivers!

. . .

That was the worst ending, EVER!

Oh, by the way...

Lion and Falcon's tests were successful, and they were located to - where else? - Canterlot!

Episode 23 - The Trials No. 2.: The Coming Storm

They haven't gotten word of other prototypes until about a week later.

That was when Dr. Whooves showed up at the sheds, early in the morning.

"Two other prototypes are to arrive here today for their final test." he explained "And another two shall arrive tomorrow."

"Hmph." was the general reply.

Hey! It was still early!

"And who should we expect?" Stuck-Up asked, taking up the senior role once more.

"Number HS4000, Kestrel, and number B.R. 10100, although he's rumored to have himself called "Fell"."

After the doctor left, the engines immediately began chatting.

Well, not immediately.

""Fell"?!" the express engine snapped, successfully waking up everyone in the shed "What kind of ruddy name is THAT?!"

"Short." CoBo replied surly, once again, regretting that he parked next to the snobbish diesel in the night prior. Aside from his loud snoring and obnoxious sleep-honking, Old Stuck-Up also had the nocturnal cycles of an asthmatic chain-smoker, often waking up the the sound of his own horn going off.

"I don't know what your problem is, Stuck-Up..." Pip yawned, as the workcolts removed the giant cucumbers from her eyes, and began peeling off the facial mask.

"I knew Kestrel..." Derek muttered, still half asleep "She was a very kind engine, with a big heart..."

"Wait, wait, wait, HOLD. ON. A SECOND." Diesel spoke, fully awake after hearing what the Class 17 said "You KNEW Kestrel? As in... The original Kestrel?"

"Yeah." the green engine mumbled "She an I were good friends... Well, more than friends..."

Suddenly, everyone was awake, more awake than ever, as if pure caffeine was injected into their tanks.

"Could you... Repeat that?" Bowler uttered.

"We were more than friends..." the mix-traffic diesel yawned.

"...How so?" Emma asked.

"We were closer... Much closer..." Derek replied, squinting his eyes shut in order the squeeze the sleepiness out of them.

"Heh..." Spamcan chuckled "Well, wha' do ya 'no'... Dere's a playa'..."

"Huh?"

"I can't believe it!" Cromwell was impressed "You had a liaison with Kestrel herself?"

"What?! Oh no! No, no, no! I meant we were close as friends! Almost like siblings!"

The others groaned in disappointment.

Derek chortled.

"What? You guys honestly thought... That me and Kestrel? Hah! I'd be happy if I'd be that lucky!"

Their drivers arrived an hour later.

"Hey guys! What's up?" Rainbow Dash asked, while examining the Iron Twins for any signs of damage or malfunction.

"Two other prototype diesels will arrive today..." Bowler replied, as Trixie dusted him off.

"Really?" Twilight asked, whilst oiling up Diesel's axles "Who?"

"A famed one named Kestrel, who was apparently a..." Bowler's mouth curled into a wicked smile "...Close companion of Derek."

The mares looked up.

"Oh?" Rarity asked, sounding quite amused.

"Indeed." Cromwell smirked "Very close."

Derek began to feel uncomfortable.

"Oh my!" Fluttershy peeped, blushing slightly.

"Well, Ah'll be honest..." Applejack snickered "Ah'm surprised."

"Yeah, you don't strike me as the... Adventurous type." Trixie added.

"Girls, it's a mistake, I'm not really..." the green engine attempted.

"So, what's she like, Derek?" Rainbow asked.

"Well... She's very kind... Caring... "

You mean, like Fluttershy? - Spike smirked.

Now both engine and mare blushed.

"No, you don't understan--..."

"I bet she's into animals as well..." BoZo snickered.

"An' modellin'..." 'Arry added.

"Guys, come on!" the Class 17 was getting REALLY desperate.

And this went on and on, until every engine left to do their own duty, leaving a madly blushing Derek and an uncomfortable Fluttershy (with an irritated Angel bunny in tow).

The morning passed uneventfully.

So uneventfully, in fact, that everybody was growing suspicious and nervous, as if a disaster was about to happen.

It did.

Spamcan had just finished filling up at the fuel depot (and taking a lengthy sip from a tanker's worth of Vodka), when he began to hear some weird clanking.

It came from the distance, from down the line.

Applejack heard it, too.

"Whut in tarnation is that?" she muttered to herself.

"I dunno" the goods engine replied "Bu' i' soun's li--..."

Before he could finish, the source of the noise showed up in the yard. And Spamcan's jaw dropped in mid-sentence.

Into the yard rolled an engine, an engine of most peculiar design, one that probably only Dr. Seuss can define.

His body was normal, shaped like tube like the rest of the big ones, tall and curved on the top, like the barrel of shotguns.

But instead of a sharp, snub nose in front of his two cab, he had long, boxy ends with no curves or bends.

His wheels were skewed up, with "Bo" bogies on both sides, and eight large wheels in the middle, connected by thick, bright red traction rod fiddles, with counterweights on each wheel, to replace the jackshaft - this engine was of completely unordinary craft!

He clanked into the yard, bonnets rattling on his sides, and as all stared and gaped like a mime, the dark green loco smiled... And I should probably stop the rhyme.

It was a diesel engine - They could tell from the smell...

As it passed the fuel depot, the Class 46 and cowmare got a good look at it.

"Wha' th' FU' izzat?" mumbled Spamcan.

"Ah was hopin' yah could tell, Sugs..." Applejack replied, still staring after the engine, the number 10100 painted in white on his sides.

It did had the general shape of a large diesel locomotive, but it's "hoods" in front of his cabs were angular. Boxy, even, with large ventilation grills on their sides. He had two small bogies on each end, and eight larger wheels in the middle, set in an outer frame, connected by red traction rods with counterweights.

It rattled furiously, and every wheel-turn came with a chiming "clank!". Rolling towards the platform, it left a waft of diesel smoke, and when it stopped, it's hiss was sharper than any of the other diesels'.

He looked friendly, though, and despite everyone's immediate reaction upon seeing the machination (namely, throwing WTF bombs all over the place), it kept on smiling.

"Hello!" he called out, to no one in particular "I'm Fell!"

Diesel actually reversed a bit, when he heard the machine speak. It had a square face, and his front lamps were basically secured lanterns above his buffer plate.

"WHAT the FUCK is that?" he murmured.

"Weeell... It looks like a diesel, it sounds like a diesel..." Pinkie Pie pondered loudly "...And it smells like a diesel, too!" she added, cheekily "Logical conclusion: It's a diesel."

Before Diesel could retort, the mare's own engine did:

"Rubbish! It doesn't looks like any diesel I've ever seen." Steamie grumbled.

"It's obviously a prototype design!" Twilight replied, rolling her eyes "See? He's number 10100! We've been waiting for him!"

"You may have..." Diesel replied, shuddering "I didn't..."

Dr. Whooves walked up to the engine, returning the friendly smile.

"Welcome!" he said "You're 10100, right?"

"Indeed." the engine replied cheerily "But call me Fell!"

"That's a rather... Odd name..."

"Hm. Beats having a bunch of numbers for a name."

They agreed on that.

Fell's first job was to take a train of empty trucks and a workman carriage to the nearby mines at Pyker's Peak.

Steamie and Diesel collected the trucks, but Fell had to shunt the carriage. All eyes were on him, as he passed the switches. No one thought it would be possible for him. Especially with that wheel setup.

Once finished, the train was shunted next to the freight platform, and Diesel parked beside it.

Fell carefully reversed, was coupled up, and rolled off, honking his rather quiet horn.

"Thank you!" he called back as he sped up, the clanking of his wheels turning into a continuous rattle.

As he disappeared into the distance, everyone began talking.

"The Hell was that?" A workcolt asked.

"I dunno." his friend replied "It looked like an engine to me."

"Vaguely." the stallion grunted "I've never seen any engine like that."

"Well, up until a year ago, we haven't seen any engine that we work with right now."

The workpony thought for a moment.

"True." he replied, finally "But it's still weird."

"I have a good idea why that engine remained a prototype." Bowler growled.

"Oh?" Spamcan asked. The passenger engine stopped to fill up with diesel oil, and almost instantly began chatting with the gruff goods engine - which was highly unusual.

"I have never seen such a ridiculous design." the uppity locomotive went on "And a stupid name to boot, too!"

"Tha's e'zac'ly wha' all th' soddy steamies sai', when WE firs' came ou' o' th' wor'shops." Spamcan grunted "He's jus' an' earlier desing, prob'bly discar'ed 'cause th' standard diesel locos li'e you an' me were aroun' th' corner."

"Your point?" Bowler yawned.

Spamcan glared.

"We STOLE his chance t' becom' a useful par' o' th' railway, dooming 'im t' be jus' anothe' forgott'n design."

"Hey! That's not true!" the Class 40 replied hastily, although even he sounded uncertain of his words "He was discarded because they didn't find him useful enough to multiply."

"True." the freight locomotive agreed.

"And besides, WE didn't asked to be built!" Bowler scoffed "It's just that we were more successful!"

""Success" is subjec'iv'." Spamcan murmured, as Applejack climbed back into his cab "'Twas th' humans who buil' us, thei' decis'on. WE shoul' be gra'eful, no' prideful!"

"I'm grateful!" the green diesel snapped.

"Tha' may be." his Rail Blue college replied, leaving the depot "Bu' you'r' still prideful!"

"I wonder where they're going to send HIM." Pinkie Pie pondered.

"What do you mean?" Twilight asked.

"Well, the previous two diesels were located at Canterlot Central after their trials."

"...So you think the Princesses are collecting a prestige fleet?" Diesel asked.

"A what?" the two ponies asked back.

"A prestige fleet is temporal set of locomotives, collected by a station master or yard manager, sometimes following the orders of higher-ups, who wants to show off." the Class 08 explained "Basically, they collect famous engines into their yards or stations, just to make the place all the more special."

The mares exchanged bemused looks.

"Of course, the sets are only temporary..." Diesel went on "But this ridiculous habit continued, from the very early years of British Railways, to the final days of British Rail."

"So WHY WOULDN'T it pop up here?" Twilight asked, sarcastically "I can't believe the princesses would stoop so low!"

"Eh... It's a mostly harmless habit." the shunter muttered "After all, they couldn't disobey company orders, so they had to send the engines away, eventually."

"I have feeling that it'll be different in this case." Twilight replied, darkly.

"Is that so bad?"

They all looked to the side.

Derpy had joined them.

"I meant that the princesses are making Canterlot's fleet out of special, prototype engines, just to show off!" she hissed.

"Is that so bad?" the mailmare repeated "I mean, Canterlot doesn't have it's own fleet yet... And it IS the High Office of the railway, not to mention Equestria's capital."

"Well, yeah..." Twilight muttered, sounding less certain "But still..."

"Well, it isn't called a "prestige fleet" for nothing." Diesel pondered.

"But that new engine is pretty weird!" Steamie spoke up.

Weird? - the bubbly pony asked back.

"Yes, he's unlike any engine I've seen before." the tank engine replied.

"He's clearly an older type of diesel. - the shunter added "An usual design. He wasn't mass produced, so there's only one of him."

"Why is he weird, though?" Derpy asked "He seems like a normal engine to me."

"He's not like any engine I've ever seen." Steamie declared "He's different."

"Is that so bad?"

They looked up. The gray pegasus' question didn't sounded so cheery this time. It sounded glum.

"Is it so bad to be different?" she asked flatly.

The two engines and their drivers looked down awkwardly.

"I guess... I guess not." Steamie muttered.

"Good." Diesel spoke up, surprising the others "Because you're very different yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"...Oh, let's not beat around the bush, and face the facts, Steamie!" Diesel grunted "You'll NEVER be a part of the Other Railway."

The others were shocked. Steamie especially.

"...What?! But I..."

"You never WERE part of it." the Class 08 continued "You were sent by some cheap-ass local workshop that made generic knock-off engines to be introduced as "new characters" on that wretched island!"

He practically spat the last two words.

"The only reason you're here now is because you sticked around, back in Barrow-in-Furness, and nicked one of the pre-ordered teleport devices Derek has bought for all of us."

The tank engine gasped.

"H-How did you...?"

"It wasn't too hard to figure out." Diesel replied "You're just a stowaway. A dead weight. The only reason we tolerate you is because you managed to get yourself introduced to Princesses as one of us."

Steamie couldn't say a word.

"Did you HONESTLY thought that we had accepted you?" the shunter sniffed "Don't fool yourself. I've told you plenty of times before: NO ENGINE should be THIS chirpy and live. You're as unrealistic of an engine as one can get! No self-respecting diesel would even bother wasting his time on you."

He snarled.

"In other words, you were just perfect for Sodor."

Again, that word. Like the name of a particularly disgusting disease or disturbing mental illness. He said as if he was trying to spit it out, get rid of it, and even it's taste.

"Unarguably, you became MUCH MORE tolerable, but that may be because we're in this pastel-colored joke of a world..."

"Joke of a world?!" Pinkie snapped.

"...Which has enough influence to even you out..."

"E-Even him out?" Twilight uttered. She didn't understand.

"Or because you've found someone who's EVEN MORE INFANTILE than you are." the shunter growled, shooting a glare at Pinkie Pie.

The others were lost for words.

With rattle, Diesel's motor roared to life, with two small plumes of thick, sooty exhaust fumes, and then rolled off, taking the speechless Twilight Sparkle with himself.

Reduced to tears, Pinkie slumped down onto the floorboard of Steamie's cab. Derpy was instantly beside her, giving her a reassuring hug, while sharing her sorrow.

Steamie was also crying.

But what Diesel, or any of the ponies didn't notice, was the sickeningly wide smile his mouth curled up into, as the shunter charged away.

***

"Is it true?" Fluttershy asked. Derek looked away.

"It is." Stuck-Up replied flatly.

All the engines were staring at the ground, not wanting to meet the gaze of their equine and griffon caretakers.

"As much as he had changed..." Pip began "We still can't consider him to be one of us..."

"But... But why?"

They didn't reply...

"It's because he's a steam engine. Right?"

They all looked up, horrified.

Spike stared at them with utmost contempt.

"He can't be one you, after all, he's not a diesel." he hissed.

Spike, what are you...?

"I KNOW what I'm talking about, Twilight!" the dragon snapped "I've heard them talking before. I heard HOW they talked about steam engines. I don't need to know any more."

The mares looked up, staring at the diesels with perplexity.

Diesel frowned.

"You always need to know more, you prejudicial little git."

Spike's eyes widened.

"We didn't exclude Steamie because he's a steam engine." Bowler replied "And it's quite offensive that you think we're THIS biased."

"We're no' th' freakin' AXE grou', Spike!" Bert added.

The ponies and the griffon were puzzled.

"AXE group?" Trixie asked.

"The Axe Action Squad." CoBo explained "A extremist group composed of shunned businessmen and renegade diesels, bent on fully completing the work of the Beeching Axe, by wiping out every last steam engine on the world. They've all been arrested, but it's rumored that some members may still be at large."

The mares gasped.

"Yeah. Nat th' noicest folks." Diesel 10 growled "An' don't ya DARE associate US with THEM."

"But then... Why isn't Steamy a part of the clan?" Twilight asked.

There was a long pause.

"Two reasons." said Diesel.

"One: We're all experienced engines..." Stuck-Up explained "Trained by the hardships of life."

"We've known each other for a long time." Emma added "We've learned to trust each other, to some extent, and tolerate one another, up to certain levels.

"Steamie is too young, inexperienced, and too ruddy nice to be a member of the Other Railway."

They all jumped a little.

They haven't heard a single word from the Breakfather for a very long time. The old diesel, turned brakevan, turned diesel again had few words to spare for them.

"He's simply not aged enough to be one of us." he went on "BoZo's part steam engine, and he was accepted as soon as we found out about him."

"Ye'h, Oi still remembe' th' day..." Bert mused. This time, 'Arry didn't told him to shut up.

"The point is..." Derek spoke up, gaining the attention of the others. He sounded much more serious than ever, and his lisp seemed to have disappeared "...Steamie's yet to become a "true" engine in our league. He's been built in the same manner all the other generic tank engines were, in order to fuel the saccharine corruption of the Island of Sodor. He'll have to peal that sickening sugar-coat off from himself, if he ever wants to become one us."

"And... The other reason?" Rarity asked.

Diesel's expression darkened.

"Due to the unfortunate consequences of Steamie's... Initiation..."

The other shot a glance at him. Not one of anger or disdain, but one of pity. Diesel's voice was full or regret.

"...He's too unstable." he explained "Trusting him could endanger all of us."

"We woul' nevah 'no', when 'e'll go off." 'Arry continued "'E's a threa'..."

"Which brings us to the next problem..."

The ponies, the dragon, and the griffon present tensed up.

"His driver."

They deadpanned.

"What's wrong with Pinkie Pie?" Rainbow Dash snapped.

"There's a very good reason why she was selected to be Steamie's driver." the shunter elaborated "She sticks out from among you, doesn't she?"

"Yes, but..."

"The same way Steamie does from us..."

"Well, not the same way..." Twilight began.

"But... She IS strange, sometimes." Applejack muttered.

"And random. One second, she's here, the next, she's somewhere else." Rainbow Dash added "Even I can't do that."

"It always feels like she knows more than us..." Twilight thought out loud, sounding quite irritated by this fact.

"It always feels like..." Rarity mused "That she has... Ulterior motives."

"She can be quite scary, too..." Fluttershy put in, quietly.

"And... There are those rumors..." Spike began, but the others glared at him.

"The rumors are utter bullshit." Gilda declared "But still... I've never seen someone... So... So..."

"Chirpy?" Diesel asked.

"Yes."

"So, you see our point." said BoZo "We feel that Steamie couldn't be trusted, even though he's been improving while in this world, and I think we can attribute that to Pinkie Pie."

"But even you girls could tell..." Bowler began "...That we... Our personality has rubbed of on you."

The mares and the griffon exchanged looks.

"Now... How can you tell, that Steamie's hasn't rubbed of... On Pinkie Pie?"

They couldn't reply to that.

It was late in the afternoon.

The other engines have left, leaving Derek and Fluttershy behind. The two of them... Just stayed silent. Angel bunny, Derek's self-claimed mechanic, would've done something to break up the silence, but felt he shouldn't.

Finally, the mare couldn't bare it anymore.

"Isn't there anything we could do?"

The sun was setting.

"No. This is something that only time can fix."

She turned away from him.

She knew it wasn't true, but he didn't felt like the Derek she knew...

Suddenly, a light horn broke the silence.

They all looked up.

As the sun ducked deeper and deeper behind the horizon, everything was coated in a bright, golden orange light.

And still, the two amber headlights shone trough the yard like beacons.

Derek looked up, and his engine skipped a beat.

There she was.

Rolling down the rails with almost no sound made in process, nothing but a gentle purr.

The only thing brighter than her headlamps was her gentle smile.

"Will she... Remember me... After all these years?" Derek thought to himself, sick with worry.

Then, the engine noticed him.

And all was right in the world.

Her smile brightened, as she rolled towards him - as it turned out, they were on the same tracks.

She stopped before him, her eyes still blinking with disbelief.

He held his breath.

"Derek? Is that you?"

The gentle voice finally lifted the weight of his metaphoric chest.

"Hello, Kestrel." he smiled "Welcome to Equestria."

If possible, the engine's smile grew even larger, as she gently rolled forward, until their buffers finally touched.

"It's good to see you again, Derek." she whispered.

"Likewise." the Class 17 replied.

Fluttershy was touched.

She had never, in her life, seen such intimate, but pure relationship between to friends.

She felt a tap on her back.

Turning around, he saw an old griffon, wearing an even older Eagleland National Rail uniform. He smiled at her.

"Let's leave these two." he spoke gently, motioning towards the two engines "They've got a lot of catching up to do."

Fluttershy nodded, and trotted off with the aged avian, Angel riding her back.

Unbeknown to them, there was someone else who DID observe the two friends. And them. And the yard as a whole.

He parked on a nearby hill, the blinding white headlamps illuminating his featureless face. He stared. And contemplated.

Finally, with a roar, he slipped away, without anyone noticing him.

He'll come back.

Episode 24 - The Trials No. 3.: Gale Force

6:00 AM

"Ladies, gentlemen!" the figure spoke "We have a dilemma at our hands..."

The others exchanged puzzled looks.

"Please, elaborate." the Chairmare replied. The Controller nodded, and rolled out a large blueprint onto the table. It displayed the line and yard set up of the region with great detail.

"With the branch line to Gaslight City nearing it's completion, the management of the plantations and factories in the area - the Powerplant's directorate, to be specific - had asked us to enable a contact with the city."

"I see." the Chairmare muttered, musing "But what's the dilemma, then?"

"As it turned out..." the Controller continued "The far eastern section of the railway has already made trackways into the city, and several minor, but large-in-length industrial lines in the area surrounding it. However..." he paused with a frown "As it turned out, our colleges at the eastern ends couldn't really handle the additional loads, so they had to shut down all traffic there, and forced workers to leave the yards and lines. They also left behind a great number of rolling stock and equipment, practically wasting all the money they squeezed out from the taxpayers to open those lines."

His frown was shared by his colleges.

"The Hungerian government at it's finest." the Grand Designer muttered.

"Anyways..." the figure went on "The leaders of the City asked us to make the branch line it's own section, with one yard there, and another one here, near the Canterlot section."

"Seems reasonable." the Director declared "What's the issue?"

"The branch line is directly connected to Trottingham Junction." the figure explained "We'll need to expand the small yard there, and also, it's engine fleet and rolling stock can no longer be used to "back up" the Marshalling Yard in Ponyville.

"Ah. I see." the Director replied "Which engines are located at the yard?"

"Number 98462, an L.N.E.R. B12, number 84576, a B17, a heritage steam engine named "Eagle", number 47666, "Brush", number 33102, "Burbock", an unnumbered Class 08 shunter, called "Mute", and another one, an industrial shunter, "Cross". His number is "X"."

"Surprise, surprise." the Grand Designer muttered, sounding quite bemused.

"Wasn't Vac also located there?" the Chairmare asked.

"Upon the request of station manager Dr. Whooves, he was transferred to Ponyville Marshalling Yard." the Director replied.

"Also located here are D701, "Rhodders", D1074, "Western Pathfinder" or "Matthias", D782, "Brock", an unnamed-unnumbered engine with the headcode '10751', and an L.N.E.R. D16, number 8783, "Phoenix". A recent addition to the yard was D9999, "Tedz", a Class 14."

"I think I heard that name before..." the Chairmare pondered.

"He's been diagnosed with a minor case of A.S.P.D.." the figure replied "Anyways, he's glad of the change."

There was a short pause in the discussion.

"So... What happens next?" the Designer asked.

"Well, Trottingham Junction needs be expanded and upgraded to fulfill it's new role as section terminal, the branch line needs another set of tracks and perhaps interval stations, and we need to crack down on the tie-necks who messed up the railway on the far east.

"Lovely..." the Chairmare muttered "Nothing more rejuvenating than listening to the sycophantic sucking-up of Hungerian politicians, while they blabber blunt nationalist propaganda on the other end."

She took a deep sigh.

"Give it a month. The trials are still on. The Canterlot Yards don't have their fleet yet, let alone rolling stock."

"It would be much easier if you girls wouldn't be so picky..." the Controller commented. The two mares gave him a tired glare. The Designer chortled.

"Better make it TWO months." the Director sighed "We'll also have to order an engine from the other end to help them out. They said they need two more shunters. And a main-line diesel."

"Any candidates?"

"Well, there are shunters on trial, but there's one, distinct engine that has signed up for the job voluntarily."

"Who?"

"A MÁV M46, diesel-hydraulic multi-purpose branchline engine, named "Hunk" by the station master who took up on his offer."

"What? You mean...?"

"Yes, he's already on his way to Trottingham."

"...Eager, isn't he."

"Indeed."

"...And... What about the other engine."

"We'll pick one after the trials are done."

"No, I mean, the main line engine."

The Controller thought for a moment.

"Well, there's one candidate: Kestrel."

"She's still having her trial in Ponyville, isn't she?"

"Indeed, but she can't stay there, they already have a great abundance of engines."

"So, Kestrel it shall be!" the Chairmare decided.

"Wait, wasn't she ordered by our yard?" the Controller asked.

"She can stay there until we find a more "local" engine to do the job."

"I'll start with the yard's design right away!" the Desinger declared.

"Right, but if you'll place four turntables beside each other again, we'll nail the first rail spike in with your head!" the Director warned him.

"Oh, Luna, you should learn to trust me!"

"I do trust you, Discord, because I know you. That's why I'm warning you."

"How kind."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, that's all." Alexei replied, rolling up the blueprint, and handing it over to the draconequus "I trust that you know what to do."

"Of course!" Discord replied cheerily, before swatting Celestia's flank with the roll "Missed! Darn fly!"

The elder princess neighed and chased after the chimera, while the younger alicorn and the stickly figure rolled their eyes.

***

6:30 AM

"Seems like an easy enough job."

Derek seemed optimistic.

The others weren't.

"YOU'LL have to go all the way to Manehattan!" Stuck-Up exclaimed.

"Derek, you can't go any further than the nearest junction without breaking down!" Pip spoke up.

"AND you'll be carrying a considerable load!" Emma added.

"Oh, don't worry about me!" the Class 17 smiled, happy about (what he thought to be) the genuine concern of his colleagues "I'll be fine!"

"Famous last words..." Bowler sighed.

6:45 AM

After some preparations and a quick check-up from Angel Bunny, Derek was rumbling comfortably... Well, as comfortable as he could get on a good day. His load consisted of mixed light-to-heavy-industrial freight: aluminum compartments, three flatbeds worth of steel girders, a tanker filled with latex, and some slag waiting to be recycled.

At 6:50 sharp, he departed on the westbound junction, leaving the yard in a strained silence.

"He's going to fail." Bowler uttered grimly.

"We'll have to send someone after him." Emma added, again.

"Aw, c'mon, lads... An' lasses..." Spamcan muttered.

"Yeah, can' y'all put sum' trust inta 'im fer a change?" Applejack pondered, deliberately at a more than audible volume.

"Instead of replying to that sappy request, let me ask you this: HOW many times did YOU TWO had to rescue him in the past week?" Old Stuck-Up inquired.

"...Twelve times?" the mare replied.

"Well then!" the express engine sniffed, and rumbled off to the fuel depot, his gin awaiting him, with the feeling being more than just 'mutual'.

"Arse." Diesel grumbled.

"Exactly." Twilight grumbled with him, eliciting a smirk from the Class 08, when he rearranged the snooty diesel's hind headcode into "ARSE".

"It's funny because it's on his REAR cab!" Steamie grinned, while his own driver giggled, but their only response was a disappointed look from his colleague and his driver.

"Well, since he brought that undersized, furry quick-fix with him, he should be alright for..." Bowler thought for a moment "Let's give him three hours."

"Two." thus Spamcan.

"One and a half." thus Applejack.

"One." thus Emma.

"One half." thus Pip.

"A quarter." thus Spike.

"A fucking headstone." thus Diesel, right before leaving the whole stupid conversation to join a (hopefully) inebriated Stuck-Up at the depot. Twilight herself was practically dying for a cider, and knew full well that Rarity had taken out her pick-me-up coltch the moment the arrogant express engine stopped beside the tanks.

7:30 AM

Derek trundled down the line, feeling confident.

His motor was far from overheating, he wasn't out of breath, the trucks were coming along nicely, and the lack of impatient, aggravated stomping of tiny paws on his control panel told him that he wasn't just imagining it.

"Seems like things are finally going to be alright..." said a voice.

"Huh?" Derek asked, before something fuzzy lunged over his hood.

"AH!" he cried, his brakes slipping on. With an ear-splitting screech, the entire train to a stop, and a loud "PLONK!" from behind told him that either his driver, or his fitter, or both, had made close acquaintances with the windscreen. Interestingly enough, the wail of pain didn't came from them...

"OW, MY EARS!"

Derek looked up, as a familiar, elongated figure was flung from the top of his engineblock onto the rails in front of him - having lost his grip after covering up his ears. The Class 17 instantly realized who he was.

"Discord?" he asked "What were you doing on top of me?"

The draconequus got back on his feet, leaned back to crack his spine, then turned to the engine.

"Well, for your information..." he said, without a hint of disdain "I had a meeting arranged with Fluttershy." he explained, struggling to relocate his jaw, and ending up dislocating it in the other way.

The diesel cringed, and gently opened his door, allowing the prepared pegasus to exit his cab.

"Is Angel alright?" he asked.

"He received a nasty bump, but he's fine, otherwise." the mare replied, before flying over to Discord, and, with a motion both gentle and forceful, she jerked his jaw back into it's original position "There..."

"Thank you!" Discord smiled, which Fluttershy returned, as she got back into Derek's cab. The Spirit of Chaos followed her, squeezing himself into the metal box awkwardly, before slapping a talon across his forehead, snapping his fingers, and shrinking down into a more compact size, suitable for the dimensions of the cab.

"Heh. Discord.rar." Derek mused, chuckling to himself, as he roared up the next hill.

"So, what did you want to talk about" the mare asked "Ummm, if you don't mind me asking..."

"Nah, nah, it's fine." Discord responded "Actually, I was about to ask myself."

"Well... Go ahead then..." she replied.

"OK. How do you do it?"

"...Pardon?"

"How do you do it?"

"Do... What, exactly?"

The chimera sighed.

"How do you deal with... Them?" he asked "The diesels, I mean... No offence, Derek!"

"None taken!" he replied.

"How do you deal with them? Especially Diesel!" the spirit went on "I mean, I know that you're the Element of Kindness and all, but I can't understand how anypony - anyone- could like that black block of negation."

"What?"

"What 'what'?"

"Black block of...?"

"Negation."

"Oh."

"Why negation?" Derek asked.

"I... Have no other words that could describe just WHAT his powers originate from."

""Powers"?" Derek chuckled "What do you mean by "powers"? He's just good at convincing people, that is all."

"But this good?" Discord mused, moving a hand over himself.

"Heh. You may be right." the diesel responded.

"So?" the chimera asked, turning to the pegasus.

"Well..." she began "Derek and I get along very well, though, he and I are very much alike..."

Discord nodded, agreeing - and if he could've do it, so would Derek.

"As for the rest of the diesels..." she pondered "Well, you need to get used to them, that's for sure... But they're not that bad... Bowler, as... Well, snooty he can be, he's also very caring. Old Stuck-Up is just as wise as he is... Admittedly arrogant. Spamcan, even though he's quite... Brutish, is still a just and helpful engine. Steamie IS a bit weird... But also, just as cheerful as Pinkie Pie. 'Arry & Bert, although they seem... Scary, and... Dim at first, are actually very clever, and their hearts are warm as, well, the furnaces they work around."

"And Diesel?"

Fluttershy didn't answer... Well, not immediately.

"Diesel is... Well... I can't feel angry towards him..." she said, finally "But as hard as it is to believe... I know he's alright..."

"Huh? How so?"

"Well... When I used the stare on him, he didn't even flinch. But as I looked into his eyes, I saw something..."

Discord looked at her incredulously.

"Anything other than pure, pitch black hatred?"

"Indeed." she smiled "I saw a tingle, though, just a tingle, of... Well, light..."

"Light?" the chimera sounded even more bemused "That's all? It could've just been the reflection of sunlight."

"Maybe..." she replied, thoughtfully "But this light... Is what threw off my concentration. And it wasn't because I was scared..."

"Wasn't it?" Derek asked, truly surprised.

"Oh, I WAS scared when I noticed how close I flew to his face, but... The light was... Different. Comforting, in a way..."

"Huh..." was all Discord said, pondering to himself. Then, he turned to Fluttershy for one last time "Thank you, Fluttershy. I'm glad you shared this with me."

And with that, he teleported away.

"Well, that was..."

"Interesting?"

"Yeah."

11:17

"Oooh... Well... That could've went... *cough* Better..."

The delivered trucks were already being rearranged, as Derek sat on siding near the engine sheds, sizzling away. The day hadn't turned particularly hot yet, but on the way, his rear motor failed on a steeper incline, leaving the frontal block to power both bogies. By the time they reached the Manehattan yards, the mix-traffic diesel was practically hard-boiled. With several packs, cubes, and sacks brought from the local refrigeration plant, and all stacked around, and on Derek, he was still in the midst of cooling off.

After a couple minutes of poking in and out of the motor blocks, Angel bunny shook his head, and made a few explanatory gestures.

"Oh, sorry, Derek, but it seems you'll have to stay here for the night." Fluttershy explained to him, once Angel wrapped it up "The local engineers will have a look at you later today, but there's nothing we..." the rapid tapping of small paws interrupted her "...Or rather, Angel, could do right now."

"It's... *cough* OK... I understand..." Derek replied, sounding quite bemused, as his engines continued to splutter. Fluttershy looked aside. She knew he wanted to see Kestrel again. The two of them had bonded well, meeting each other again after so many decades, and their sibling-like relationship had been rekindled.

It broke Fluttershy's heart a little to just leave him there (the same thing made Angel anxious about what "hodge-podge" job the local mechanics will do on him), but she had to return to Ponyville.

15:54

After being shunted into the works by Andrew, a sky blue G.W.R. 5600 working as one of the Manehattan Yards many shunters, the workponies immediately set out to fix whatever problems he had, once and for all. By now, Manehattan Central and it's engine works had gained a reputation as being one of, if not the best in the region. Intent on keeping this prestigious position, they were determined to fix "whatever further damage the lowly mechanics of Ponyville M.Y. has caused".

However, by the end of the afternoon, they've bumped into more and more difficulties. Evening came, and they decided it was best to give up.

"We'll continue tomorrow!" the forecolt declared "I'm afraid you'll have to spend the night here, Derek. There's another engine coming to stay here for the night, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Derek replied. He knew the workponies tried their best, but there was little they could do - he was just a bad design. If it wasn't his cooling system, that most frequently failed altogether, it was one of his engines, or his traction motors. Drivers complained that they couldn't see what was immediately in front of the train because of the long hoods on both sides of the cab, and he was prone to wheel-slipping.

The mix-traffic engine sighed. Alone in the darkening sheds, he let his mind wander onto unpleasant thoughts.

"Perhaps they were right..." he thought to himself "I'm just a failed design. A lost cause."

He gave a deep sigh.

"I should've been scrapped long ago, along with my brothers."

"Nonsense!"

Derek jumped a bit, as an unfamiliar voice interrupted him. Then he heard the sound of a diesel engine. A long shape reversed into the siding next to him, and stopped with a hiss, engines turning off, and headlamps going dark.

"You really shouldn't think like that, chap!" the newcomer said to him. He had a chassis similar in shape to that of Derek's, but he was somewhat larger and longer. Painted in a classic B.R. maroon livery with a cream white cab, and two, slightly diagonal exhaust pipes going around a middle windscreen on both sides of his cab, unlike Derek's dual windscreen with the single exhaust funnel in the middle. He had a headcode signal above his face on the front, currently displaying the standard pre-setting code "0000".

The Class 17 gasped, as he recognized the engine.

"Y-You're one of my class!" he said "Bu-But how...?"

"Ohoho, yes, and no, dear chap." the diesel laughed "You're a British Rail Class 17, a "Paxton", right?"

"Y-Yes, I was built with twin Paxton engines, but they frequently broke down, so they were replaced with Rolls Royce engines." Derek admitted "Our old controller neglected to fix my other problems. Thankfully, I have an excellent fitter here, and he keeps me in tip-top shape."

"Good for you." the other diesel replied "Oh, where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Clayton."

"Clayton? After our building company?" Derek chuckled. However, as he took another glance at him, he noticed something.

His number, "DHP1".

"Hang on a minute!" Derek cried "You're...!"

"Clayton." smiled the engine "I've already told you."

"But... You're the 'Super-Clayton'! The engine that our designing company, Clayton Equipment had built to show off it's prowess in engine designing."

"And they failed at it, quite spectacularly, if I may say so." Clayton murmured "I was broken up in the very yard that I was built it."

"Then... How can you be here?" Derek asked.

"The same way Kestrel, Falcon, Lion, and a lot others are: time trickery."

"Time trickery?"

"You are aware that your Controller is also a time-, AND dimension-travelling deity of sorts, right?"

"Alexei?" Derek pondered "Yes, I believe so."

"Well, he recently used his abilities to bring some of us prototypes into this world, and escape oblivion, as he stated." Clayton explained "He bought Lion from Vicker's before he was completely stripped of his innards, and, ehhem, "reclaimed" his electronics from the Sulzer company's workshop."

The Class 17 chuckled at this, as Clayton continued:

"He flat out stole Falcon from the breakers yard before the day of his scrapping, and repaired him personally. He replaced Kestrel with an updated version of her built by Soviet engineers, that was made to be more fitting for the Soviet Railways, and bought her from them for double the price they paid for her."

"That's very generous of him."

"The railway's head leaderboard didn't even notice that Kestrel was replaced, and considered her "replacement" a success, as she was built to be more suitable for the broad-gauge Russian rails. But he came almost to late for me."

"What do you mean?"

"He missed the date I was cut up, and arrived when I was already in pieces. He offered a generous sum for my parts, but management figured out what his true intentions were. Well, aside from the dimension-hopping part."

"And...?" Derek asked anxiously "What did they do?"

"They quickly put me back together the best they could, and sold me for the price of a new engine, rather than a lump of scrap." Clayton laughed.

"I see..." Derek replied, bemused "What are you doing here?"

"I'm on trial here. I'll be running the mixed goods service on the new branchline at Trottingham Yards."

"Trottingham Yards?" the smaller diesel was confused "I only know of Trottingham Junction. And what is this new branchline you're talking about?"

"The Trottingham-Gaslight branch. It was initially planned to be a heavy-duty industrial line, but due to a... Misunderstanding with the ministry responsible of the Hungerian railways, the railway yards and terminal over near Gaslight City are now under the joint supervision of the Hungerian State Railway and Equestrian Rail. Primarily Equestrian Rail."

"Oh yeah, I remember. I help built that branch line." Derek mused "Wasn't a pleasant experience."

He recalled his "accident", after wandering off down an unused siding within the Everfree Forest and ending up in Sunnytown. Luckily, and unbeknownst to them at the time, Vincent, or Diesel 10, as he was more commonly known, came to their rescue, and spared him, and Fluttershy and Angel bunny from a horrible end at the decomposing hooves of the accursed residents of the dark little town.

"Did you? Well, I bet you'll be happy to hear the engines of the former junction yard will have their own line to work on." Clayton remarked.

"Oh I am." the green engine replied "It just that we'll have no back-up for the Ponyville Marshalling Yard now."

"Don't worry, I'm sure the leaderboard will figure out something. Perhaps they'll expand the yard's fleet."

"I sure hope so." Derek remarked "Oh, I'm Derek, by the way. I'm stuck here until I'm repaired."

"Ah. Teething troubles?" Clayton asked.

"Worse. Years of neglect and mistreatment by the "repair crew" of Sir Wyatt Fronts made my engine practically useless. It was only here that I was given a proper overhaul. Still, my cooling system keeps failing me, and because of that, my engines as well, along with my traction motors sometimes."

"Hmmm... That's unusual. The Class 17s were know for camshaft and piston issues. And you already had your Paxman engines replaced."

"Yeah. Matter of fact, I was almost named Paxman, but the actor and the company threatened to sue the TV Series' old crew, so I was named Derek instead." Derek explained "It's seems to be a common theme with those guys, naming diesel engines with a name starting with 'D'. First Diesel, then Daisy, then me! Well, I guess they made an exception with BoCo, 'Arry and Bert. And they never named Bowler in the TV series, or the original books."

"I see..." Clayton replied, after some awkward silence. He didn't understood half of what Derek said, but he sympathized with him, anyway.

Then, he realized something.

"Wait. Did you say, traction motors?"

"Why, yes..." Derek replied "I'm just a regular Class 17. I'm diesel-electric, unlike you."

"I always thought the Class 17s were hydraulics as well." Clayton mumbled "Anyways, you said that your cooling system is at the root of your problems."

"It is. It's crammed in tightly within my engine rooms, and my designers at Clayton Co. couldn't set it up properly around my motors."

"... I think I know the solution to your dilemma." the prototype engine smirked. He explained it to Derek, which cheered the kindly twerp right up.

***

Next morning, they explained their idea to the workponies. At first, they looked at the two engines as if they had gone completely insane, but then, after a more thorough explanation, complete with diagrams, pie-charts, and actual pies as rudimentary bribery, they agreed, and informed the yard management, who then informed the railway leaderboard.

The Flat Controller, the Blue Director, and the White Chairmare all agreed, and made the necessary arrangements. Derek was scheduled to have an overhaul a week later, and until that, he was to work as a shunting-, and utility engine in, and around the Manehattan Yards. The crew put him back into working order the best they could, and, with Fluttershy and Angel joining him around noon, he set off to find work around the yard.

He also informed his small crew about the planned "changes", and they were excited. Well, Fluttershy was, because she had no idea what Derek meant, while Angel just groaned, imagining how long it would take him to grow accustomed to the changes in his engine's layout.

The afternoon went by smoothly, with no break-downs or Derek's typical self-destruction (he once managed to simultaneously blow up both of his engines, and thus save his old controller from a new rival in the cheap merchandise department). As he was resting in a siding, a big red engine screeched to halt next to him, sending Fluttershy into a cowering frenzy underneath the seat in his cab.

The engine panted, out of breath, and gazed at the perturbed Derek.

"Are you... *huff* One oh-off... *huff* Th-The Other Railway's... *wheeze* Diesels?"

"...Yes?"

"I... *huff* Must warn you!" he wheeshed.

Derek was all ears (which was ironic, because, well... You know what? Nevermind.), but then, he remembered something.

He looked at the tender engine carefully. He remembered who he was.

"What do you want, Conrad?" he asked, sharply. The red LMS Jubilee Class engine looked at him desperately.

"Please, I have to warn you! You're all in danger!"

"Who are?" Derek asked, suspiciously.

"The Other Railway!" Conrad declared.

Now, Derek was paying attention.

"Why?"

"A number of diesel locomotives will be sent on trial to your yard!" Conrad explained "And, from what I heard, Head Office is planning to keep some of them there to extend the fleet, but that's beside the point!"

"So? We've had visiting engines before." Derek replied, before noticing something "Wait, where did you heard all this?"

"That's not important right now!" the red engine wheeshed with a hushed voice "You're in great danger!"

"But why..."

Conrad was about to reply, but then, he noticed something a few sidings away. His face went pale.

"There!" he yelped, looking at a line of diesels.

"Them?" Derek asked "What's so special about the--?"

He went silent, as he examined the engines more thoroughly.

One of them was a dark green and light gray Class 45 "Peak", whom Derek instantly recognized.

"That's... That's Sulzer!" he exclaimed "He'll be sent to our yard? Well, he is a trouble-maker, I don't know why you would be so..."

"It's not just him!" Conrad hissed.

"What, you mean, all of them are coming?"

Derek observed the line again.

Besides Sulzer, there was also an familiar-looking Class 37, a B.R. Rail Blue Class 55 "Deltic", a Brunswick green Class 23 "Baby Deltic" with cream-colored cabs, a silver and blue Class 59, and a Class 52 in class' original, desert sand livery... He also had a brass nameplate.

Derek's eyes went wide, as he read the name of the engine...

"You see?" Conrad asked.

"Oh dear... This is very bad... This is very, very bad!" Derek mumbled.

"What is?" Fluttershy asked, having climbed out from under the seat.

"I must warn the others!" Derek said, starting his own engines.

"But Derek, we're stuck in the yard!" Fluttershy exclaimed "Your overhaul...!"

Derek looked pleadingly at Conrad.

"I'm sorry..." the red engine groaned "I'm forbidden to go your yard after the way I acted last time."

"We have to find someone!" Derek was getting desperate. He spotted a workcolt reading a clipboard nearby "YOU, SIR!"

The stallion jumped.

"Who, me?"

"Do you know of any train heading to the Ponyville Marshalling Yard?"

"Uuuhhh..." he flipped through his clipboard "A slow goods train will be heading to Canterlot, stopping there along the way... Why?"

"Who'll be taking that train?!"

"Clayton."

"Good. C'mon, Fluttershy, we must find Clayton!" Derek declared, deaf to the workcolt telling him that he had a job to do.

The row of engines, Sulzer's visage, Conrad's words, and the name on that brass nameplate was all that was going through his head.

"I MUST find Clayton, and tell him to warn the others! he thought to himself "Otherwise, this'll hit them with gale force!"

Episode 25 - The Trials No. 4.: Old Rivals

FIVE DAYS BEFORE THE ARRIVAL

8:30 AM

The diesel-hydraulic clattered into the station, bringing with himself a short goods train. The cold was nipping that morning, but it also looked like the start of bright day. The air felt unusually stagnant, however. There was no wind.

In the summer, that's usually the precursor of a storm. A thunderstorm, to be precise.

The B.R. maroon colored engine gazed around, taking in the sight of the small station. He should have stopped by the freight depot's platform, but he was switched to Passenger Platform 1 by accident. He didn't mind, as it offered him chance to rest. His destination was still far away. He could've enjoyed the journey - the countryside was quite beautiful, and the many stations he'd passed have a surprising variety in their design.

However, a thought prevented him from loosing focus.

Even though he managed to stop at the station for a more prolonged amount of time than what he hoped for, having arrived quite early, he still needed more time. He had to talk to the engines of the yard, and this was his only chance.

On the line besides him, next to Platform 2, stood three, larger diesels, quietly rumbling in the morning sunlight. Well, two of them were - the dark olive green Class 40 at the back, with a light gray roof and a red buffer plate, number D782, and the apple green Class 31 with silvery buffers, a red buffer plate, a cream-colored roof and cab, with a cream stripe along his side, and a yellow warning panel serving as his face, with the number D701 displayed on his side. The one in the middle, a maroon-brown Class 52 with white cabs, number D1043.

He nearly had a heart attack upon noticing the old engine, until he read the brass nameplate on his side:

"Western Pathfinder".

His noisy sigh of relief caught the attention of the other three.

"Oi! Who are you?" the Class 31 called out to him "Wha' are you doin', sneakin' aroun' like tha'?!"

"Sneaking?" Clayton muttered "I've been standing here for the last five minutes!"

"An' wha' are ya standin' dere fo'?" the Class 40 grumbled from the back.

"I've been switched to main platform by accident." Clayton replied. He was already getting tired of the two bickering engines "What are YOU three doing here?"

"What's yer business with us, huh, guv'?" the Class 40 snapped.

"It's none of YOUR bloody business why we're here!" the Class 31 added "This is OUR yard, and..."

"Rhodders! Brock! Behave yourselves!" the Western diesel spoke up between them. He had a gentle, ever-so-slightly posh voice.

He then turned his attention to the Super-Clayton.

"Apologies for the behavior of my colleagues, my dear engine." he said softly "My name is Matthias, and these two Rhodders and Brock. We WERE located at this yard up until now, but we're moving to our new workplace at the Trottingham-Gaslight branchline."

"Ah." Clayton replied "My name's Clayton, and I'm heading there as well. I just stopped here to pick up some goods."

"I see." Matthias replied, giving him a once-over "You're a Class 17, I presume?"

"A prototype, but yes, I am a similar design."

"Hmmm. You seem rather nervous there. Is anything the matter?"

Clayton realized that his chance had come.

"Well, yes, actually..." he replied "You see, I've just completed my trial runs, and I was supposed to deliver these goods to the new branchline. Unfortunately, I hadn't refueled since yesterday, and I'm literally at the bottom of the barrel here."

"Well, that sucks..." Rhodders mused "Can't ya refill here?"

"I'm afraid I don't have the time." Clayton muttered, continuing his fib "I still have to shunt this train next to the goods platform, and I'm afraid I'll ran out of fuel soon after that..."

"An" if ya refuel, you'll be late..." Brock pondered "An' you've just done yer trials."

"Aye."

"Well, tell ya wha'..." said Rhodders after a brief pause "Well take your train along with us. It's really not your fault that you've ran out of fuel."

"Ah, thanks, guys!" Clayton sighed "You're lifesavers!"

"Don't sweat it..." Matthias chuckled "It's not the Modernization Era anymore. None of our necks are on the line."

"Still, first impressions are quite important." Rhodders mused, before adding "I'm sorry we were rude to you. Just jumpy, 's all."

"I could tell..." Clayton chortled, as he began to reverse.

"Forge' dat." Brock called out to him, before yelling over into the sidings "OI! STEAMIE! SLOW, MIXED GOODS AT PLATFORM 1! MOVE 'EM TO TH' FREIGHT LINE, PRONTO!"

"On it, guys!" said chirpy voice.

Clayton rolled forward, across the points, and into the yards, towards the fuel depot. Along the way, he was turned around.

"Good thinking, mate." His driver said to him, as he operated the turntable "You were actually running low on fuel. Nothing serious, though."

"I was?" the mix-traffic engine exclaimed "Oh well."

He watched as a small, green saddle tank shunted his train behind the freight depot, whilst Rhodders began to reverse onto the same line.

"Now what?" his driver asked.

Clayton looked around, and spotted the engine shed.

"I won't be needed until noon." he replied "Can you drive me over to the sheds. I must tell the engines about the new trial runs."

"And I'll inform the station master about it as well." his driver replied "If that engine is as dangerous as they said he is, it's best if we left management know about it."

***

"Well, that's just marvelous!" Stuck-Up grumbled. For once, the snobbish engine wasn't alone with his displeasure.

"Why did they need those three?" Bowler moaned "It's only a branchline, and they already had all the engines of Trottingham Junction there, not to mention the Hungarian engines at the other side.

"Hungerian." Twilight corrected him.

"Whatever." Stuck-Up groaned "They still leaves with more work! It's the height of the season, the railway is employing bloody tempts everywhere, and NOW, they decide that this is the best time to recruit our only back-ups!"

"Oh, shove a sock in it, Stuck-Up!" Pip snapped at him "They were already located there, along with the others."

"I also heard that Rats will be relocated there from Huffington." Emma added.

"Tha' blu'y line 's c'nsumin' eng'nes by th' dozens!" Spamcan blurted out.

"Well, it is as long as our portion of the main line." Emma pondered "Anyways, there's still plenty of us around."

"What we need are shunters." CoBo muttered "With Diesel reserved for local goods trains, 'Arry and Bert away at the Cavalry Ironworks six days a week, all we really have is Steamie, and that's it."

"Ya coul' always fetch yer own trains..." Applejack pointed out.

"Do you have any idea how bloody finicky that would be?!" Bowler yelled "We have eight-wheel bogies, for crying out loud! No, shunting for us is definitely out of the question!"

"We can arrange them every now and then..." the Metrovick diesel added "But we can't do shunting work regularly, we're just too long. Mix-traffic design be damned."

"Speaking of mix-traffic, anyone knows what happened to Derek?" Rainbow Dash asked, making the chatting engines fell silent.

"I think, I can help you with that..."

They looked up, then proceed to stare blankly at the newcomer.

Clayton glanced up and down across the engine berths. So, this was it. The infamous Other Railway.

He had heard the lot about these engines... One such thing was that...

"Oh my GOD! DEREK?!"

...They're not really smart...

"No, no, no..." he replied "You're mixing us up. I'm Clayton."

"Clayton?" replied the chorus, and began to eye him up.

Finally, Stuck-Up harrumphed, pouting.

"Well, you're definitely a Clayton design." he mused "Please, do tell us, where's our... Colleague, then?"

"Derek's getting overhauled back in Manehattan Central." the diesel-hydraulic replied "He'll be back in a week."

"Great. Another engine goes missing!" Bowler mumbled "Are you his replacement until then?"

"I'm afraid not." Clayton sighed, then turned serious "However, I did came here to warn you."

"To warn us?" everyone paid attention to him after that.

"Yes." the mix-traffic went on "Your are still having engines on trial in your yard, aren't you?"

"Indeed." Diesel replied, speaking up for the first time that day "Why?"

"I have to warn you..." the diesel-hydraulic began "The next batch is..."

He was interrupted by the sound of a horn.

The engines and mares looked up as the sound of diesel motors filled the yard. Four engines entered the yard, and began approaching the sheds.

Stuck-Up and Bowler observed two of them in particular.

"A Class 55 and a Class 23..." the uppity passenger engine muttered, sounding curious. The corporate blue and Brunswick green Deltics purred towards the turntable with ease, and stopped just short of it's well.

"Well, that's a pleasant surprise, I suppose..." the express engine added "At least we'll have some help with theuuooaaAAAH WHAT THE HELL?!"

Alongside the two Deltics came, growling loudly, and dispelling a considerable amount of clag, a Class 37 locomotive. Electric blue, with cream cabs, a yellow warning panel covering half his face, ending right under his nose, two boxy headlamps on either sides of his face, a dark gray roof and round, silvery buffers. He smiled at the gathered engines, wryly.

"Th--... Wha--.. Y-Young Fuck-Up?!" the express engine blurted out, then found himself at the receiving end of the mares' disapproving looks.

The Class 37 winced upon hearing the unflattering nickname. Years ago, he was roped into helping the Other Railway overcome yet another "financial difficulty", by covering for an incapacitated Old Stuck-Up. Having heard of the disreputable Barrow Regional Transit (as the Other Railway was officially known), he took his position for granted, and spent his time delinquently damaging the already nonexistent "honor" of the railway. Eventually, the other big engines (suspicious of the young working class diesel to begin with) decided to brick him up in the shed for good measure. Long story short, their plan backfired, as usual, but at least they got Old Stuck-Up back (something they soon regretted).

"Young Fuck-up", as they had christened him, sulked away, back to his own line. He was employed by D.R.S. at the time, and had a stressing job routine, working near Sellafield, running the nuclear flask trains along with another member of his class (who just so happened to be possessed by the ghost of his former driver). Eventually, he broke ties with the company (caused an accident and slipped away when no-one was noticing), had a local engineering shop repaint him (accidentally giving him the wrong color scheme), and had himself given a fake pre-TOPS number, D7000. With this new getup, he escaped, only returning to the Other Railway once, when there was a demand for replacement engines, as nearly the entire fleet of the railway was summoned at London for a court case regarding their massive backlog of community service.

They haven't seen him since, and his reappearance didn't promise anything good.

"What are you doing here?!" Bowler yelped.

"I'm here on trial as well. My name's Growler, by the way." he replied.

There was a brief pause afterwards, as the resident engines got over the fact that an old nemesis (of sorts) has returned.

"Excuse us. It seems that you engines know each other already." the Class 55 spoke up, snootily, breaking the silence "My name is Legion."

"Great. Another Stuck-Up." Diesel groaned, disrupting the Deltic's speech. Legion harrumphed, and fell silent. The other engine spoke up instead.

"My name's Napier." he introduced himself "Pleased to meet you."

No-one paid attention to the Class 59 rolling up next to Growler. He glanced around as well, but saw that no-one even noticed him. He gave a defeated sigh, and turned his engine off, staring at the tracks in front of him.

As the engines began chatting with the visitors, Clayton pondered to himself.

"How come only they came? The other two should've came along with them."

He gazed out onto the main line.

"Where could those two be?"

***

Later on, Dr. Whooves showed up, along with Derpy.

The sky had turned dark with heavy clouds promising rain, perhaps, even a thunderstorm.

The Doctor/Station-, and Yardmaster surveyed the sheds.

"Good. Seeing that you're all here, I think I should make my announcements. As you may all know, the railway board has recently launched a number of live trials across the country, in order to test out recently acquired locomotives, rolling stock, and other equipment. A number of engines have already been tested, successfully, at our yard, and..."

"Yeah, yeah, we 'no' 'bou' i', Doc, we li'e 'e'e." Spamcan interrupted "Jus' ge' to th' poin'."

"...Right." replied the Doctor, clearing his throat "This case, however, is different. These recently arrived locomotives, namely, Class 59, number 59207, Class 55, number 55022, "Legion", Class 23, number D5910, and Class 37, number 37309, are the last ones to go on trial here. With them, the testing sessions will finish, and we can resume to our regular schedules."

A relieved groan wafted up from the majority of those present.

"Also, three of these engines will continue working here, in our yard, after the trial is done."

"WHAT?!" snapped Stuck-Up.

"Well, there's the answer to your prayers, Stuck-Up." Emma teased, and the others began chuckling as the express engine fumed.

"What'll happen to the fourth one?" Bowler asked.

"He'll be simply reassigned, and based in a different yard." explained the brown stallion "The Trottingham-Gaslight branchline still requires more engines..."

"What for?" Cromwell asked "They already have L.N.E.R. B12 and B17 in the face of 98462 and 87546, a Class 47, Brush, a Class 33, Burdock, an L.Y.R. Class 27-G.S.W.R. 403 Class in the form of Eagle, an L.N.E.R. D16, Phoenix, and... Who else? That Class 127 without a number."

"They also sent Kestrel there." Pip added "And I've heard that a former Hungarian State Railways engine has arrived as well."

"Really?" Diesel asked, somewhat curious "What sort?"

"A mix-traffic diesel-hydraulic." Emma answered "And there a number of shunters there already as well."

"Mu'e, Cross, Tedz..." Spamcan listed "An' jus' t'day, dey also 'ad Rho'e's, Matthias, 'n' Broc' sen' ove' der', permanently."

"So that means that they have, in total, four mainline diesels, two mainline steam engines, three mix-traffic diesels, two mix-traffic steamies, a diesel multiple-unit railcar, andthree shunters." Stuck-Up counted "That's a total of fifteen engines, on ONE branchline!"

"Yes, a branchline roughly the same length as our sector of the main line!" Emma snapped at him "Get over it, Stuck-Up!"

"HOWever...!" the Doctor continued, raising his voice.

The engines fell silent.

"However..." he began again "Two additional engines will be arriving to assist you. They've requested a reassignment, and curiously enough, both of the specifically asked to be based here, in the Ponyville Marshalling Yard. Now, I have been warned..." here, he glanced at Clayton "That these two engines may come with ill intentions towards you."

The engines exchanged looks. Dark clouds covered the sky.

"While keeping that in mind, we must, at least, offer them a chance to prove themselves."

Thunder rolled in from the distance.

Exchanging looks, the engines turned their gaze back towards the Doctor. Finally, Spamcan asked the question:

"'ho ar' dey, doc?"

A shrill horn pierced through the air, two-tone and off key, and the sound of a diesel motor, not too different from Spamcan's, could be heard.

As lightning flashed, it shrouded the headlights that appeared from around the corner, making them seem to come out from the darkness. As the engine drew nearer, more and more things became clearer.

It was a mainline diesel. Painted poison green, a bastardized, darker version of B.R. Green, with a cream stripe running across his sides at footplate level. Silvery gray roof, with silvery buffers, and silvery stainless steel wheel tyres. It was a Class 45, a precursor to Spamcan's class, the Class 46 "Peaks" - though, both classes, AND the Class 44s had the same nickname, as all of them were christened after mountains.

A yellow warning panel reached up to about half of his face, to the middle of his nose.

With his mouth forming a sly, irksome smirk, fenced by a Van Dyke stubble-beard and a stubble-stache, a toned-down version of the gruff goods engine's dirty stubble. Angular, thick eyebrows above his baggy-ish eyes, forming the same, familiar frown that those who knew of the dirty Class 46 could easily recognize.

Signalling their relation.

The engines stood, gobsmacked, as the newcomer rumbled into the yard, stopping just short of the turntable, on the siding that faced Spamcan.

The goods engine's own frown seemed to increase, his face contorted with an seething, glowering scowl, while his driver, standing just outside of his cab, narrowed her eyes, poking her hat up.

"G'mornin'." the Class 45 sneered.

"Sulzer." Spamcan growled, his voice lowering to meet and overstep his brother's already deep voice "Wha' ar' you doin' 'ere?!"

"Nice t' see ya 'gai', too, bro'he'." the green engine replied "I see ya still stic' t' yer ol' posse."

He snickered.

"Bes' t' kee' yer luv'd on's close, am I righ', fellas?"

The other engines reversed sightly, apart from Legion and Napier, who knew nothing of the siblings' rivalry, CoBo, who couldn't give two sharts about their rivalry, Diesel, who couldn't give two sharts about them in general, and just glared at him, along with Spamcan, who stood his ground, and Bowler, for some reason.

"Don't tell me that YOU'RE one of two volunteers." the Class 40 asked, astonished.

"Yes, I am." Sulzer hissed, scowling at Bowler "Whu's i' to ya, preppie?"

Bowler scowled back, and reversed into the shadows of his berth.

"Now why would YOU come 'ere?" asked Applejack "Are ya re'lly THAT petty that ya wouldn't leave yer brother 'lone?"

"Well, fo' YOU' inf'mation, horse, I've deci'e' t' chec' 'roun' dese par's. Have' bee' down th' line on thi' side, an' tha''ll neve' do."

"Whu's that s'pposed ta mean?!"

"Ah. Course ya would't kno'. Well, anyway, my drive' also wan'e' t' mee' sum' ol' rela'iv's as well."

"...Yer driver...?"

The cab door opened, as another bolt of lightning sliced across the darkening sky. A figure exited the cab, trotting alongside Sulzer, and stopping next to his buffers.

Applejack's contemptuous gaze slowly, but surely transformed into the infuriated, glowering scowl of her engine.

The others just stood, mouth agape. The engines could only stare, incredulously.

Beside the Class 45 stood an orange earth pony mare, with a blonde mane and tail, both tied in rather unruly ponytails, with what appeared to be fan belts tying them together around the middle. She wore a black Akubra with dirty white band on it, and her left (or, from her perspective, right) eye was cowered by a black eye patch, while her other eye was a deep purple.

She looked hauntingly similar to Applejack, with an identical stature, the same shade of her crest and tail, all the way down to the freckles on her cheeks. If it weren't for the eyes, one could think that it was the applefarmer wearing a costume. Her cutie marks were three green, unripened, sour apples, with leaves sticking out from the stems of two of them (one had two leaves, the other only had one, while the third had none).

The similarity was really uncanny, and unnerving to some degree as well - she almost seemed like some sort "evil twin" of their friend. So similar, yet, so different.

Her eyes, while purple, had the same shine, and same depth to them as the cowmare's, only... Darker, more meaningful in a way.

Her expression was much the same as Applejack's would be in a moment of conceitedness... Except that she sported a wicked grin along with it.

"Jacqueline." she said. Even her voice sounded much like AJ's, but more smooth, more... Slick.

"Blackelyn." Applejack replied shorty "So... Ye're Sulzer's driver."

"Why yes, dear cousin'." she replied "Thought we migh' visi' ou' dear relatives... Unless you'd want me to be thrown out again."

Her grin slowly turned into a scowl, matching Applejack's. It was truly uncanny. Sulzer watched with interest, as the two mares glared down at each other from across the turntable.

"Well... Anyways, welcome to the yard, Sulzer." Stuck-Up greeted him, finding his politeness in the awkward staredown.

"Nice to meet you lot again." the Class 45 replied, the smirk never leaving his face. He glanced around "Where's Derek?"

"He's away being overhauled." Bowler replied, halfheartedly "Why?"

"Oh, I do miss him." Sulzer replied, his smirk growing particularly dark.

"Yeah, I bet you do..." Diesel growled, eyeing the green engine with more than just contempt.

Sulzer used to be a regular visitor to the Other Railway in it's early, naively promising days. He regularly jumped in to fill the role of one of the big engines, or to help with the extra workload. He was known as Spamcan, only worse - with the same macho aggressiveness, slacking nature and fierce strength, he happened to be Karma Houdini on top of it all, avoiding the heat of his actions, and getting out of trouble, unnoticed. He regularly made fun of the then-incapacitated Brakefather, blackmailed many of the big engines, want ballistic-predatory on Pip and Emma, and made the life of the small ones a misery. This was before 'Arry and Bert, BoZo and Cromwell had arrived, but during the time CoBo was with the railway. The Class 28 was also a bit of a bully back then, trying to escape the revolution that ate it's own children: the Modernization Plan. But his actions only hardened the otherwise sensible and wimpy engines of the Other Railway, who now stood a chance against Sulzer's terror.

Except for Derek.

Derek was a regular victim of the big engine's rather obnoxious practical jokes, often finding himself overwhelmed. Diesel tried to come to his defense a few times, but alone, the Class 08 shunter could do little against the huge goods engine. So he gave up on it, and let Derek suffer.

The engines hated Sulzer. On top of being an even bigger arsehole than Spamcan, he was also unbearably suave and slick, often proving his worth despite his behavior, and always left the railway pleased with himself, never once sent away.

The rivalry of the two siblings was a curious one. No-one seemed to know where it stemmed from, though their controller, the then-mostly-sober-during-weekdays Sir Wyatt Fronts seemed to gaze at the two bickering engines, bemused, with a knowing look on his face. Besides Spamcan, CoBo also sparred with the Class 45, and seemed to come off more victorious from the battle of wits the two had. This left Sulzer furious, and the two engines haven't talked since. He avoided looking at him even today, his eyes averting when they came close to the visage of the Metrovick.

Dr. Whooves talked severely to the recent arrivals.

"Now, I know of your track record, D20." he said, sharply, momentarily surprising the engine "I will only allow you staying in this yard if you bring your best performance, and are on your best behavior."

"...But of course, sir." 'D20' replied, cautiously "I'll do my best."

"Good." the Doctor replied, easing up "Now then, about you..."

He turned towards the mare.

"You're Apple Blackelyn, correct?"

"Appleblack fo' short, sir." she replied, shooting a glance at her relative, and smirking as she fumed angrily upon hearing the nickname. Dr. Whooves, upon noticing this, turned serious once more.

"Now, my dear mare." he said "I'm not quite sure what to make of you."

"Ah'm jus' a simple mare, sir." Appleblack replied "Trained in a farmwork an' engine drivin'. A proud Apple..."

She stopped here, and shot a deathly glance at her sibling, who suddenly seemed to shrink, taken aback by the glare.

"...Or, at least, I was..."

"Well... Your track record seems almost spotless, aside from a few hiccups in your early days." the Doctor went on, checking her papers "Now, I don't know what skirmish you have with Apple Jacqueline here..."

"Nothin' ta worry abou', sir..." the mare replied, glancing at AJ again "I's jus' a bit of... Bad blood, so ta speak...." she smiled to herself, as Applejack once again seethed with fury.

"Well, for your sake, I hope this wouldn't come to hinder your, or others' performance." the Doctor replied coldly "Less you wish to be assigned with a different engine, if at all working on this railway."

Appleblack's eyes widened, and even Sulzer seemed to be taken aback.

"Ya... Ya wouldn't... Would ya?"

"It's within my power to do so." the stallion replied "But ultimately, it's up for you. You and Sulzer."

"...I understand, sir." the mare exhaled, sounding defeated. But as Dr. Whooves turned away to talk to Clayton, she shot another glower at her sibling, making Applejack feel uncomfortable once more.

"Well... This'll be interesting..." Bowler mused, watching the five engines depart from around the turntable. Napier and the Class 59 seemed to be keen to learn the yard layout, whilst Legion and Growler rolled of to the fuel depot. Sulzer just settled down in a siding, on the other side of the yard, and Appleblack seemed to check around him for any malfunctions.

"That's not the word I would've used." Trixie muttered.

***

"Well, that's that then." Dr. Whooves sighed, standing on the platform.

"But that engine may still be lurking around, sir..." Clayton protested. The two of them were at Platform 1, with the Brakefather easing in with a local stopping train onto the parallel track. The old, chocolate brown engine listened intently, quietly eavesdropping on the conversation.

"I wouldn't worry about it." the stallion replied "I wouldn't allow him to stay, anyway. His reputation is an absolute disaster, faked track records be damned. I had clearly told the railway board that I wouldn't allow him into this yard. If he does turn up, I'll have to - politely, of course - decline giving him entrance."

"I'm not sure that'll stop him, sir."

"Don't worry, Clayton." the Doctor reassured him "Even if he does manage to sneak in, he couldn't do much. And he'd be under constant supervision."

"...I hope you're right with your confidence, sir..." the diesel-hydraulic sighed, pulling out from the siding, and rumbling off, back towards Manehattan Central.

FOUR DAYS BEFORE THE ARRIVAL

6:00 PM

The following day, the engines sat around the turntable. The stormy weather from the day prior stayed, and only seemed to intensify.

The trials were being carried out.

Sulzer and Appleblack took the freightliner towards Hoofington, whilst Legion left with Old Stuck-Up's express, earlier in the morning. With Derek still away, the Brakefather was put in charge of his local, slow goods train, while his own stopping train was handed over to Growler. The Class 37 enjoyed the lecture the old mafioso gave him about the local stations. He also left him curious, mumbling something about "gathering the gang", and mentioning the name of an engine a couple of times. It was a name he didn't recognize, and kept thinking about it throughout the day.

Napier was put in charge of CoBo's specified freight train, while the Class 59, as of yet unnamed, was looking after Bowler's passenger train. The Cavalry Ironworks didn't require any extra help that day, so they sent 'Arry and Bert back, along with Rainbow Dash. The Flim-Flam Brothers stayed with their respective engines - Dodge and Splutter -, alongside Diesel 10. As all five engines were commissioned from the railway to assist, the agreements allowed to any number of the five could work. This kept a balance between the Ironworks' freedom of choice, and the railway's profit.

With both 'Arry, Bert back in the yard, and Diesel not requested by any local clients, the three Class 08 were told to shunt in the yard, and Steamie was rewarded with a special train that allowed him to travel up and down the countryside.

With their shunting done for the time being, the engines huddled around the turntable.

"You know, I really wouldn't mind having a transfer table." Cromwell pondered out loud, and Mr. Bottomsly had to agree - in is own way.

"That's because you're afraid of breaking down." Bowler smirked "Paranoid, even. I swear, you're worse than me."

The engines and mares had a light chuckle, but Twilight noticed that Applejack - and, along with her, Spamcan - seemed rather bemused. She turned towards her friend.

"So... What's up with... Blackelyn, I believe?" she chose her words carefully, remembering her friend's reaction from the other day.

"Appleblack." the cowmare muttered "She's a cousin of mine."

"Oh? You two look... Quite similar..." Rarity mused.

"Yeah. We used to pretend tha' we were each other when we were little..." a shadow of a smile passed through AJ's face, briefly.

"Hmmm... Appleblack... And Applejack..." Bowler muttered loudly "I think there was a joke here..."

"Bowler... Bowler, don't...!" Diesel warned him.

"...But I just couldn't drew it!" the green engine yelled, chuckling at his own joke. The others just groaned.

"What happened? Between you too, I mean?" he asked, after he managed to regain his composure.

"Bad blood." Applejack growled, reminiscing.

"Appleblack was once part of th' family. She was th' foal of my mother's sister, Apple March. We use' ta be best cousins, she an' I - kinda like how Apple Bloom and Babs are now. Bu' that all changed when we reached teenage. She began ta play rough. Tumble. Ah began ta enjoy her company less and less ev'ry time she visited. She knew o' this, bu' she decided ta have her way, anyway. More an' more often, we would git into trouble. One year, when adulthood was jus' an inch away, the Apple Family Reunion was being held at their orchard. The night before it, she dragged me into town. Ther' was a bar nearby, an' seein' tha' we would be celebratin' her coming of age, she decided ta hav' her firs' guzzle of som'thin' harder than Apple Family Cider. Ah, on th' other hoof, was so afraid that we'll git in trouble, that Ah left her there. We shared a room in their house, an' Ah woke up when she came home later that night. Ah asked her if she had done anything, bu' she didn't reply, an' Ah began ta worry fer the worst."

Applejack paused, cringing.

"Ah was wrong. Th' worst was yet ta come." she said, sounding bereft.

"Th' next day, as th' festivities were underway, Ah kept worrying about Appleblack. An' it seemed Ah wasn't th' only one. Durin' th' middle of the whole gig, a senior member of the family, Uncle Ruckus burst in. He had been drinkin' at th' local bar, an' was informed abou' Blackelyn's escapade, if tha's th' righ' word."

"I believe it is." Twilight replied "If you're being ironic."

"He had also heard some nasty gossip circulating among th' "regulars" of th' bar, regardin' wha' she had dun' there. It was horseapples, really, bu' ya couldn' convince Uncle Ruckus otherwise."

"Foo'ki' snitchin' barkeeps!" 'Arry cursed "Always stir'in' shi'!"

AJ nodded, agreeing, and went on.

"He threw a massive tantrum, callin' her all sortsa names Ah wouldn't even dare ta use on mah enemies... Though Ah'm sure Diesel here would."

"OI! ...Well, actually, that may be true. You'll have to tell me some of them, if you remember any."

"Right... So, Uncle Ruckus then turned towards me. He was already foul with Appleblack, due to th' way she had been carrying herself in recent years, bu' saw me as th' "nice gall" of th' two of us. So he asked me if Ah knew anythin', seein' tha' Ah had joined her in her trip to th' bar. Ah didn' know what ta say. Ah didn't want her to git into any MORE trouble. Bu', Uncle Ruckus was staring at me with blood-shot eyes, an' was growin' impatient. He musta had a few, when he checked out th' bar."

"Bloo'y hypocri'ical gi'!" Bert cursed.

"Finally, Ah said tha' Ah saw her goin' into th' bar, an' tha' she came home later in th' night, sober, as far as Ah could tell. Bu' the Uncle wasn't interested abou' tha'. He claimed tha' he KNEW tha' Blackelyn would bring shame to th' family, an' sleep with sum' stallion the first moment she coul'. When sum' of th' family went up against him, demanding him ta explain where he all heard this, he exploded, an' kept cursing her an' th' rest of us in turns. Then suddenly, he collapsed onto the ground."

"Ooooh, plot twist!"

"...Shut up, Cromwell!"

"We called an ambulance for him, bu before they took him away, he demanded tha'... We would remove Appleblack from th' family. He already disowned her in his mind, and, being th' senior, demanded that we do so as well. All th' while, he kept lookin' righ' AT me, feverishly. Ah couldn't take th' pressure, an' agreed with him. Th' others caved in, one by one..."

"You UTTER BITCH!"

"Wha--?!" AJ gasped, looking at the engines.

"How could you backstab your own cousin like that?" Bowler snapped "What? Just because she was growing a bit different!"

"Ah couldn't do anythin'!" Applejack exclaimed "Not with mah uncle..."

"Guys, she was cornered!" Pip cried out "Leave her alone!"

"Pueh. Of course. When it comes to intricacy, women can stick together, especially AGAINST one another!" Stuck-Up grumbled "I do find it rather hilarious, though, that your own element, honesty, made you betray your sister."

"Alaric..."

The others fell silent, as Spamcan spoke up for the first time.

"Shut the fuck up."

It wasn't so much the volume, or the clear English he spoke in that made them fell gravely silent. It was the tone.

Stuck-Up reversed slightly.

With a soft sigh, Applejack continued:

"Tha' was that, really. Th' Reunion was ruined, an' everypony went home. Appleblack's parents were cross with her, not because of th' stupid gossip tha' Uncle Ruckus believed, bu' they were cross with her, none th' less. Before we left, Ah tried ta talk with her, bu' she jus' gave me this... Look. Like th' one she gave me yesterday. Tha' deep, dark look. Back, before Uncle Ruckus' outburst, I saw her eyes. They had th' same shine as mine, an' from tha', Ah knew there was nothin' wrong with her. But afterwards, th' look in her eyes changed. Ah don' know if she had actually done anythin' in that bar, bu' on that day, Ah... Ah did took her innocence..."

She was close to sobbing. Thankfully, Diesel remained as soberingly harsh as ever.

"Once again, you're an utter bitch."

"Oh, shut yer trap, Diesel!" AJ snapped back at him, wiping her tears.

"What happened afterwards?" Twilight asked.

"She wasn't heavily reprimanded by her parents, bu' she wasn't allowed to go ta any reunions anymore. Uncle Ruckus made sure of that. However, after three years, she showed up again. This time, the reunion was held at Uncle Ruckus' farm and brewery."

"Ons' ag'in, hypocri'ical gi'." Bert grumbled.

"Shu' up, Bert!" snapped 'Arry "Oi wanna see 'ow dis ends!"

"It did not end well," the applefarmer sighed "It was evenin' when Ah saw her, lurkin' around behind th' great boilers of th' brewery. Ah called out ta her, an' she turned towards me. She had tha' same grin she wore when she had one of her mad ideas. More often than not, these revolved aroun' fire, explosives, an' th' like."

"She's a pyromaniac?"

"Sort of. She definitely had this... Affinity towards th' flame. You could say that th' two were alike. That night... Uncle Ruckus' orchard burned. Set ablaze usin' his own brews. He never lived down th' events, an', a couple of months later, he died. Appleblack's parents told us that she had ran away from home, bu' not before trashing th' local bar, an' beatin' th' bartender half ta death."

"And already, I'm starting to like her."

"Afterwards, she had gone missin', bu' not fer long. She popped up, here and there. I knew it was her, 'cause her fires followed her like a comet's tail..."

"How poetic."

"Shut up, Bowler."

"There was method to her madness, though." AJ went on "She targeted Apple family members, those in particular, who raised their hoof in acceptance to disowning her. She went in reverse order, goin' from th' last to th' first. Except she never came fer me..."

"Oh?"

"She kept me on edge fer about a year, bu' after so many nights spent awake, Ah simply forgot about her in the end. But not fer long... When we visited Appleloosa on th' next reunion, Ah was approached by a number of angry ponies, an' even some griffons, all demandin' retribution fer things Ah couldn't have ever imagined myself doin'. Even th' Royal Guards showed up."

"Wait for it..."

"As it turned out, Appleblack used our uncanny resemblance to peg me as th' culprit of her crimes."

"Then?"

"She slipped away again, after her cover was blown. All those she conned, tricked, or had caused damage to otherwise damaged had only one lead: she looked much like me. She showed up afterwards, here an' there. Always crossing my way. A few years ago, at the Rodeo? Ah couldn't get any first place medals 'cause of her. She showed me up an' curb-stomped me at ev'ry turn. Ah suppose that's better than having th' orchard burnt down. She was never caught, or suspected, fer that matter."

"How awful..." Emma muttered.

"She and Sulzer are match made in Hell." Cromwell groaned. The others had to agree.

***

The small train slinked into the yard's siding, empty. The green, Austerity tank engine at the front peered down into the yard, and chuckled to himself.

"Well, here we are!" he said cheerily.

"Quiet!" whispered a voice from the back of the train "I'm so close, I don't want to get caught here!"

"Alright, alright." Steamie snickered, rolling down towards the yard. With his train empty, he was granted permission by the signalmare and yard forecolt to shunt his own train into an empty siding.

No-one noticed, as Legion roared past with the express, that someone else had trundled along behind the small train, barely revving his engine, so as to avoid gaining attention.

"So, this is it, then, eh?" he asked now, reversing into a conveniently empty and shadowy goods shed near the siding "The rubes got themselves a rather nice place here."

"Ekhem!"

"Ah. Thank you, for bringing me here... Steamie."

"You're quite welcome!" the tank engine replied "I'm guessing you'll be on your way, dealing with your, eh... Dirty work..."

"Yesss, indeed." the diesel hissed, gazing at the sheds "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some... Business to attend to..."

And with that, he rumbled away, his suppressors and mufflers quieting down the distinctive roar of the diesel-hydraulic mechanism.

Beaming with pride, Steamie was uncoupled from his small special, he chuffed of, feeling really pleased with himself. Still, he was thirsty, and headed of to the water tower.

"Umm... Steamie..." Pinkie spoke up from the cab "Shouldn't we tell the others about him?"

"Nah." the Austerity replied "They'll meet him soon enough. Besides, I'm awfully thirsteh."

His driver/firemare fell silent for a moment.

"You sure this engine's alright, Steamie?" she asked "He seemed a bit... Sinister."

"Ah, you're just being judgmental." said the tank engine "He's fine. As long as he won't squeal..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing. Don't worry, Pinkie. It'll be fine."

The pink mare sighed, still perplexed. She couldn't see the wicked grin on Steamie's face, as he called back the scene...

The two of them met privately whilst Pinkie was off getting lunch. She wasn't informed of the restriction placed on this engine, but Steamie was. It was something he, quite purposefully, had neglected to tell her. When the diesel explained what he wanted to do, he complied, but made the big engine swear that he wouldn't tell of his... Contribution.

He still recalled the imposing locomotive's rather disturbed expression, as he laughed maniacally, and the memory made him feel like having a cackle again.

"Well, this isn't something you everyday..." Bowler chuckled "A double sibling rivalry."

"So glad that you could make light of such a sad tale." Rarity exclaimed "Have you no compassion?"

"'Fraid not, luv'. I'm Other Railway, after all." the green passenger diesel replied, eliciting a chuckle from the other engines. The mares just groaned. With Pip & Emma away for the night, doing their own trial run as an experimental overnight shuttle service, all four visitors found a place in the sheds. Sulzer, as it seemed, found a place somewhere else, and Appleblack had already retired to the workponies' sleeping quarters above the engine berths.

The engines chatted a bit, discussing their own trial runs, and famous rivalries they had ran into over the years.

A bit later, Sulzer showed up at the sheds once more. He was occupying a workshed that was required for coach maintenance, so the yard manager told him to go sleep in the sheds. With Derek still away being overhauled, and 'Arry & Bert called in by the Ironworks for a graveyard shift, there was plenty of space left. So he parked into the berth next to the shy Class 59, who had stopped in the one the closest to the main line.

Silence fell among them, initially, but soon enough, the engines resumed their chatting, completely ignoring the sulking Class 45... And his brother, for that matter.

"There was this engine who... Attempted to give me a run for my money." Cromwell explained "Rather competitive fellow. Loosely resembled some of the modern diesels, only worse. A steam engine boiler and smokebox on one end, a huge mash-wire cover at the other, from under which he peered out into the world, his long chassis suspended, dangling between two bogies."

"Who was this engine?" Twilight asked.

"The Reid-MacLeod prototype. A steam turbine engine, but because of his wired front "mask", we called him Fencer."

"I only had one rival to speak of." said Bowler "A chavvy Class 141 Pacer."

The engines familiar with Britain's infamous rail buses all groaned.

"I would've understood it if it was a Sprinter, but the wench kept irritating me, trying to get me into a race or something."

"Wench?" Stuck-Up spluttered "Do you mean...?!"

"Yeah. It was a girl." Bowler grumbled "Though, I could hardly call "her" that, considering her attitude."

"Watch it, Bowler!" Gilda snapped at him.

"This was while I was working at Yorkshire. Eventually, I had enough, and we agreed on a race. Both of us started from the opposite end of a branch line, with her pulling her shuttle service, and me pulling the parcel service. I quite enjoyed that job, actually..." the green diesel paused for a moment, reminiscing about the past "Anyways, I was already over half way, when I rounded the bend, and saw her. In her hurry to beat me, she went around a bend to fast, jumped off the inner curve, and blocked both lines. Leyla, I think she was called? Anyways, when management showed up, she tried to peg it all on me. She then proceeded to call the managers misogynists when they figured out, rather quickly, that she was pulling their legs."

"I know of mares like her." Twilight sighed "What a way to dismantle your credibility."

"Tell me about it." Bowler mused "I mean, I'm all out for groups fighting for equality, but not individuals who use what vague concepts they have of the group in hopes of gaining privileges or get out of their responsibility."

The others all muttered, agreeing. Even Sulzer and the Class 59 expressed their agreement.

"Aw. She must of liked you, Bowler." Legion snickered "Some engines have found strange ways to flirt."

"Yeuch! As if..." the snooty engine grunted.

"I had a rival once." CoBo muttered "A Class 73."

The others waited for a continuation.

"Aaand?" Rarity asked.

"Well, I had a rival..." the Metrovick replied, darkly "Once..."

The others shuddered at this, but Stuck-Up gave a hearty chuckle, and turned towards the goods engine.

"Oh, come on, we've seen you do worst, haven't we, Spamcan?"

The Class 46 just stayed silent, much like his brother."

"Hmph." the snobbish diesel turned his gaze towards the shunter "And speaking of rivalry, SOME of us could tell quite a tale, couldn't they, eh, Diesel?"

"Fuck off."

Again, Old Stuck-Up merely harrumphed, and began his own tale.

"Well, I also had a rival back in the day." he spoke softly, successfully catching the attention of the mares, particularly, his own driver.

"Did you?" Rarity asked, intrigued.

"Did I?" the big blue engine paused for a moment, staring into the distance. His face expressed discomfort, as he thought back. "I did, actually..."

"Aren't you supposed to refer to the deceased in past tense, Alaric?"

All of the engines froze, as they heard that voice. Even the nonchalant CoBo and Sulzer gazed up, shocked.

The sound of a diesel engine, a diesel-hydraulic, suppressed, but still roaring loudly, could be heard approaching them, along with a blinding set of headlights.

Once again, lightning flashed, and thunder rolled. The wind picked up, and the rain began to pound on the dusty ground.

The roar became louder and louder.

Stuck-Up stared ahead, gazing down at the siding across the turntable, as the two headlights blinded the others. His mouth was agape, while his impressive eyebrows were raised into arcs of disbelief, and fury.

For down, down the siding, rumbling and roaring loudly, came another diesel engine, a Class 52. Desert sand brown, with cream cab window frames, and a yellow warning panel serving as his face. A sharp, triangular nose above a thin, wide smile, with deep-seated eyes and long, penstroke eyebrows. As he rounded a small curve, his side revealed a bronze nameplate, the name "Western Star" clearly displayed on it. He stopped, just before the well, gazing across it tauntingly.

A stallion stumbled out of his cab, and left for the station building. This left the engine unfazed, as he kept staring directly at Old Stuck-Up.

Lightning flashed again, the wind blew, and the thunder and rain covered the eerie silence of the sheds.

Finally, the engine spoke up, smooth and slick.

"It's been some time, hasn't it, Alaric?" he said softly.

It took him a long time to reply, but when he did, he was devoid of his usual mannerism, along with nearly all emotions, except for a deep-seated anger, a hidden angst, and a pitch-black tint of hatred.

"Crusher... Welcome back."

Episode 26 - Ongoing Feuds

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE ARRIVAL

0:00 AM

"Well, this is certainly troubling."

They stood around the table, observing the documents they've received.

"How did those two even end up there?" the Chairmare asked.

"I don't know. I honestly don't know." the Director mumbled.

"There was no restriction or restraining order placed on D20, so, technically, he may have just easily volunteered on a whim, knowing his brother, and his driver's cousin is there." elaborated the Controller.

"And go to stir up trouble?" asked the Grand Designer.

"Seems so." the Controller replied "His behavior on our railway has been, up until now, spotless. And my sources tell he had a tendency to get out of trouble whenever he caused any. Which he did. A lot."

"And the other?" inquired the Chairmare.

"No records." replied the Director "But he had certainly gained notoriety among engines of British origin, especially late, Standard class steam locomotives and early generation mainline diesels."

"Trouble, indeed." the Controller exclaimed, sighing "Anything else?"

"Ponyville Marshalling Yard had filed a request for a shunter or two, seeing that they're running low on them, as the Iron Twins - and Dodge and Splatter for that matter - are constantly away, and Diesel has to pull Derek's local mixed goods train until his overhaul is complete."

"Oh. Well, that's easy." sighed the Controller, visibly relieved "The Trottingham Powerstation has recently informed me that they have enough shunters, so, if necessary, they could offer one to any yard-in-need."

"Anything else?" the Chairmare asked "What about Kestrel?"

"Her trials are complete, and she's ready to report to the Canterlot Yards. This, however, leaves an empty space in the Trottingham-Gaslight Branchline's fleet."

"And I had already told you my proposal." the Grand Designer chimed in.

"I don't know..." the Chairmare mused "A fork in the main line?"

"It would have that level of traffic eventually."

"Wow, Discord having foresight." the Director chuckled "Who would've thought."

"Anyways..." the Controller spoke, raising his voice to stop the blossoming argument before it even started "I've looked into the inquiries, and we're in luck. A Class 37, number 37000, called "Debo" by his colleagues, applied to the position, claiming that his friend, Class 31, D701, "Rhodders" works there. Another engine, a Class 06, 06011, "Matt", also wishes to join the new branchline. We could temporarily send him as backup for the new shunter in Ponyville."

"Right. I'll contact the Powerstation." said the Director, then paused "What about the four engines on trial?"

"Will just have to figure out who is the weakest link."

***

6:00 AM

"Ah, morning already?"

She blinked profusely, as her eyes grew accustomed to the light. It was summer, and the sun came up earlier. Glancing around, she saw that the yard was still empty.

She sighed. On a lazy summer's day morning such as this, she really wished that she would be working at a bigger yard.

But for now, she had to wait.

Soon enough, ponies began to appear, rushing after their work in the power plant's small yards. She even saw the others get up to work. It wasn't long before two small diesels, a Janus-type shunter and a Romanian LDH45 diesel-hydraulic. The two of them backed down on to the two lines next to her.

"Bună dimineața!" said the red engine.

"Morning!" she replied in kind, yawning "What brings you two here?"

"Management has called us here." the Janus explained "We don't know why."

"Only the three of us?" she asked.

"Da."

"Perhaps they're finally giving you that overhaul, Darius!"

"Dat would be good." the Romanian shunter sighed, looking over his friends "Berhaps dey're giving you a new coat of pain."

"I wish."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you, Patwin?" she asked, teasingly.

"Oh, be quiet, you." he said, loftily.

Just then, they saw the yard manager, walking up to them... Along with her driver and fitter.

"I have some important news for you." the mare began "As you all may now, I had recently notified Equestrian Railways that we have an abundance of shunters in our yard..."

"No kidding." Patwin snorted "We could hardly fit into the damn communal shed!"

"Quiet, Patwin." the mare said sharply "Anyways, members of the board visited yesterday night."

"Yesterday night?" Darius asked "When we were sleeping?"

"Yes. They came to inspect you."

"In our sleep?" the Janus asked "That's totally not creepy at all."

"Be quiet, Patwin. Anyways, they especially surveyed your three, and made their decision this morning."

The three engines all looked at her, anticipating that she would say one of their name.

Finally, she smiled, and called out:

"02077, Gwennol!"

The Class 02 rolled forward.

"The railway leaderboard, comprised of the Chairmare, the Director, the Controller, the Grand Designer, and the Royal Industrial Inspector, had selected you. Half an hour from now, Tedz will arrive to take you to your new home."

"...Thank you, ma'am." Gwendolyn replied, excitedly. She then thought for a moment "Where will I be going?"

"Just down the line. To Ponyville Marshalling Yard." her fitter explained "They're short on shunters, so I'd expect that there will be other shunting engines there as well."

But she didn't mind. She had always liked working in company. She waited anxiously for Tedz to arrive.

Finally, the big Class 14 pulled into the yard, honking merrily to her.

"Hello, Gwen!" he greeted her "Ready for the big move?"

"Oh, yes I am!" the small shunter replied, blushing slightly as Tedz was coupled up to her. Her driver and fitter got on board, and she said bid her friends farewell.

As they were pulling out from the yard, she could hear the yard manager speaking to her friends:

"Darius, tomorrow, you'll be going to Manehattan for your overhaul. Afterwards, you'll be pulling a local passenger train to gather the workforce of the plant each morning, and take them home at night. Also, Patwin?"

The yellow shunter looked up.

"Go to the workshed, you're being repainted."

"Ma'am...! But...!"

"It's the board's orders! Now, hurry along!"

Gwen smiled. It seemed like this would be her lucky day.

***

Tedz parked her down next to the fuel depot, then left for Trottingham. As she was being refueled, Gwen gazed around the yard. It was much larger than the yards of the power plant, even when put together, perhaps. It was filled with various sorts of assorted freight trucks, and vintage, two-axle mixed goods trucks, along with coaches and carriages of various eras. Most line of wagons was already in order, but some were still unconnected, and there were sidings with random trucks on them, placed around haphazardly.

After refueling, Gwen waited.

She didn't have to wait long, though, as, with a hoot of his droning horn, a jet-black Class 08 shunter (and a particularly boxy one at that) arrived. He looked at her, nonchalantly.

"Are you Gwennol?" he asked, neglecting to greet her. Gwen didn't take offense, replied in kind:

"Yes, yes I am. And please, just call me Gwen."

"Well then, Gwen, please, come along. The others are waiting." and with that, the shunter reversed back down the siding.

"Wait... Others?"

She then remembered what the manager had said, and took off after the Class 08, eager to meet his new colleagues.

Across the yard, there were two other engines along with the 08 shunter (who had introduced himself as 'Diesel', leading to momentary fangasm from Gwen's side, which, in turn, lead to Diesel's justified presumption that she was, in fact, a post-production model). One of them was Matt, a Class 06, painted BR Blue like herself, but he didn't seem to have the crankshaft of his class, simply being an 0-4-0 design. Gwen suspected that he was either post-production, or modified to be a diesel-electric. The other one was a dark green G.W.R. 0-4-0ST tank engine named Jonsey. Apparently, the two of them had known each other from before, but were only acquaintances at best.

As their chatter settled, the Gronk returned again.

"Alright, you lot." he said sharply "I'll make this quick. I've already arranged a number of trains here, and I'm due to pull a local goods trains, due to one my... Associate's extended wellness holiday, so to speak. Now... Matt, Jonsey, I know you two are trained for this sort of work, so I won't waste my breath on informing you. You two won't be staying for long, anyways. Just haul ass over to the freight yard, and assemble the mineral trains. If you have a question, don't bother returning to me, ask the shunting assistants or the yard manager. We have another engine there. 0-6-0. Hunslet Austerity tank engine. Eyesore-green. Smiles too much. His name is Steamie. Unless it is absolutely necessary, avoid him at all cost. He'll be up and about, but you shouldn't concern yourselves about him, he'll be doing his own job. Just... Don't make eye contact, and don't reply to him. If you happen to catch his driver and firemare alone, you could talk with her, but I wouldn't advise it."

"Why not?" asked Matt.

"Because she's an annoying pink twerp, now bugger off!" Diesel snapped, turning his gaze to the small Class 02, as the two engines rolled away, grumbling under their breath.

Gwen shrunk slightly under the Class 08's gaze. Diesel's expression was unreadable, his engine purring as it idled. He looked over the small shunter, back to front, top to bottom. A lavender unicorn mare, with a dark crest and tail, climbed out from his cab, and made her way towards her. Gwen suddenly felt her driver stepping out from her cab, her own engine turned off.

Startled, she watched as her driver hoofed the starting lever to the lavender mare, informing her about the small shunter's performance. Finally, their conversation finished, the two saluted one another, and the lavender mare began to make her way to Gwen's cab, while her driver stopped in front of her.

The stallion sighed, then smiled.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye..." he said.

Gwen was surprised.

"You're leaving?"

"I'm afraid so." he replied "Your fitter and I will be returning to the power plant. It's where we're based at, after all."

"But... Who will be driving me, then?" Gwen asked, distraught "Who will look after me?"

"He's informing the local fitter about you as we speak." her driver replied "You're based here now. The fitters of this yard will look after you, and yard management will assign a new driver for you."

"Do you really have to leave?"

"I'm afraid so." the stallion replied, smiling sadly "I'm assigned to the power plant's yards, and both me and your fitter will still be needed there. You'll just have to manage here."

Gwen remained silent for a few moments, digesting what she had heard.

"But..." she asked, sounding hopeful "I can come back... To the yards, can't I?"

Her driver shook his head.

"You're assigned to this yard now, Gwen." he said softly "You'll be living here, from now on."

"...I see..." sighed the little shunter. Her driver gave her a pat on the buffer beam, they said their goodbyes, and he trotted off towards the station, soon joined by the fitter.

Gwen sighed again, a single tear slipping down from her eyes.

Hearing a soft cough, she turned her attention towards the Class 08 again.

"So... You're Diesel, right?" she asked, her voice still cracking a bit.

"Yes." the jet black shunter replied "My name is Diesel. Creative, I know. Now, the mare in your cab is my own driver, Twilight Sparkle. She'll be testing your controls, to see if there's anything noteworthy, and by that, I mean, anything wrong with your mechanical performance. I shall see to it that your work efforts is the best you can manage. I understand that you've not worked in any station's yard before."

"Well, unless you count the Power station." Gwen muttered. The mare in her cab chuckled bit.

"I see. Well, from what I heard, you have enough work experience with trucks, so I won't have to start from scratch. However, as a humble shunter, you'll still need to learn the yard layout, and all the trains and the rolling stock that's based here. Unlike Matt and Jonsey, you'll be staying here, after all."

"Staying here?" she asked "Wouldn't I be taking trains?"

Diesel gave her another, much more quicker once-over.

"02077." he read her number "You're a post-production model, aren't you?"

"Yes, I was built in Vic Berry's works, based on the original Class 02 shunters, and... Is there something wrong?"

Both she, and Twilight noticed that he winced upon the middle of her sentence.

"You were built in Vic Berry's scrapyard." Diesel muttered, a cold shiver running through his crankshaft.

"Umm... Yes..." Gwen mused, with the innocence of ignorance "I was built using spare engine parts..."

"Cannibalized from dead locomotives..." the jet-black shunter uttered under his breath, as a shake ran through his body.

Finally, after that bit of disturbia, he calmed down, and spoke to the little engine once more:

"You're a diesel-hydraulic, aren't you?" he grumbled "Seems like we're getting the package deal..."

"What?"

"Nevermind Diesel." said Twilight from inside her cab "Anyways, we better get going."

"True. Come along." the shunter added, rolling off. Eager to learn, Gwen followed him.

***

She proved to be a quick learner. Following the Gronk's advice, she quickly arranged the last few trucks, and moved the organized trains into their right sidings. The trucks dared not mess with her on her first day, of course, this was mainly due to both Diesel and Twilight standing by, the former with engine revving to the point where it bellowed fire from his exhausts, the latter with a coupling rod at hoof to whack their eyes out if they tried anything funny.

She had a few questions, but, in general, the training went like this: Diesel proposed a problem, she came up with a solution, which was then promptly put to the test when she faced the described problem in front of her. They made good time, and by noon, the yard had been completely cleaned up. Other trains have arrived during this time, and the small shunter (with a bit of help from the bigger one) reacted quickly, arranging the new trucks immediately. As the clock hit twelve, three of the yard's present five shunters were huddled together at the fuel depot.

"So... Heard ya were doin' fine, Gwen." Matt smiled, chugging his beer-laced fuel "I don't suppose you could help us out at the mineral department?"

"Not yet." she replied, sipping her own, sarsaparilla-flavored oil "Diesel hasn't taught me about passenger coaches yet."

"So he's actu'lly teachin' you?" the Class 06 asked, incredulously "Well, he's definitely doin' be'er than with 'is last temp..." and he shot a discomforted glance at the green Austerity tank engine beside Jonsey.

"What was that supposed to mean?"

"Nevermind that." Diesel replied, rather hastily "Anyways, after we're done with the passenger trains, you WILL be moving the trucks on the other side of the yard. The mineral hoppers are usually better behaved than the old two-axle, four-to-eight plank ones we use for mixed goods. Still, they like to teach engines who they felt had mistreated them a lesson. And by lesson, I mean the most disproportionate punishment you'll ever experience for having a bad day and being a bit careless."

"He's right." Twilight added "Those hoppers are heavier than your average freight truck, and know how to throw their weight around. We nearly had an accident with them on the very first day I started to work."

"Really?" the Class 02 asked "What happened?"

"They rolled off from the mine yards atop a hill nearby." Diesel muttered "We tried to stop them, but they pushed us onto the express line. If it wasn't for Twilight's quick thinking, we would've crashed, cab first, into the evening high-speed shuttle service."

"Instead, we discovered an old siding leading straight from the express line to the back of the carriage works." the lavender mare added, glancing at the upper mentioned building, located across the yard "It was supposed to be an 'Out-of-Use' siding, but we found it rather convenient to avoid certain doom."

"And a crowning moment of awesome for both of you..." said Rainbow Dash. She was called in from the Ironworks to help with Matt's trial. And considering how absurdly fast the little shunter was (much like the Hornby models based on his class), it should come as no surprise that she enjoyed working with him immensely.

"Yes, quite a tale, and other preppy rubbish." Diesel grunted. He didn't liked to be reminded of his accidents, regardless of how fortunate they may have been in the end "As I said, you'll be working the hoppers. You'll have to arrange a train of twelve or thirteen of them for me. I'll be taking them to mines."

"I know! You'll be bringing coal to the plant!" smiled Gwen.

"Yes, I will. In the evening." the Gronk replied, perplexed "How did you know?"

"I couldn't sleep one night, and saw you bring in the coal hoppers to the conveyor belt." she explained "I wondered who you were, as I had never seen an engine like you before. I mean, I heard about the Class 08s, they are quite famous."

Diesel smirked knowingly.

"But I never really met any before you. I was pretty much relegated to my line."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Before I came to this world, I worked on a small industrial line in Cornwall. I worked with an old electric mining locomotive called Elowen. She was much to old to give me any real advice, because whenever I asked her about trucks, coaches, and whatnot, she would always remember something from her younger years... Eventually, I gave up."

"So, you're from Cornwall?" Diesel asked. He was mildly intrigued "Should've guessed from the name... I probably know what comes after this little exposition, but please, do tell me: what happened?"

"The line shut down."

Gwen sighed.

"Elowen was given to a local museum the day they declared that they'll be shutting down the line. Businesses around us went bankrupt during the '80s and early '90s, but privatization was the last nail in the coffin. I was forced to help the workmen tear up the tracks that I ran on, and then sent up the mainline. Back towards Vic Berry's..."

She shuddered here, and the ponies present found, to their deepest surprise, that the other two diesels looked at her with a sorrow sympathy.

"At the yards, the workmen who originally built me had me hidden from management, so I wasn't cut up." Gwen continued "But I saw what they did to other diesels for a living..."

Suddenly, a very nasty shadow of a thought crossed Twilight's mind, and, going weak in the legs, she had to reach out for Diesel's traction rod to support herself. She didn't want to, but she knew she'll ask her engine about this later on.

"I stayed there for a few years. Only allowed to come out from hiding during the night, to work the graveyards shift."

"Quite literally, I'd presume." Matt mused. The only thing Gwen could be doing in Vic Berry's was to move the withdrawn engines unto the sidings where they would meet their fate.

"Yes. I tried to give them my condolences. To... Prepare them..." again, she shuddered, and sighed "They would just brush me off, demanding to be left in peace. Some of them, who had been there for a long time, gave me a nickname... Josephine..."

After a few moments of perplexed wonder, the two other diesels' eyes widened into a stare, frozen in horror, upon hearing the name. Interestingly, so was Rainbow Dash, who looked the most dismayed.

"I don't get it..." said Twilight, after a considerable time has passed.

"I presume..." Diesel began, getting a grip on himself "Some where a bit more straightforward..."

"They also called me Ilse, Irma, or Augustine..." Gwen muttered, frowning "But yes, some where more straight with me, calling me an angel of death.

"Thorough. Very thorough." the Class 08 said, with a low, grumbling voice.

"When I heard about the Exodus, I stowed away on a freight train heading north. A signalman spotted me, however, and I was taken to the nearest yard available. It turned out that I overshot my destination, because I ended up in Sellafield."

"That must've been unpleasant." the Class 02 muttered.

"What do you mean by "overshot"?" Rainbow asked.

"I was meant to got to place called the Barrow Regional Transit, a rather disreputable private railway working on a portion of the mainline that lead to the Island of Sodor."

Rainbow was about to say something, but, as if she was reading her engine and mentor's mind, Twilight quickly shoved a hoof into the polychromatic mare's mouth. Diesel maintained his disinterested pokerface, though one with an observant eye (such as Celestia's star pupil) could see the corner of his mouth twitch slightly.

"I arrived there just in time. I was the last one to cross over, and after I came through, the portals closed for good." Gwen stated, wrapping it up "I never got a chance to say goodbye to my creators, but, with all honesty, knowing where I came from, and what would've become of me, I don't really mind."

"Can't blame ya." said the blue pegasus, once she managed to peel off Twilight's hoof from her face.

The sound of a horn blasted across the yard, as a big, green Class 40 with yellow "hazard" panels on each end, and a gray face, purred into the station. The shunters and the two mares all looked on, as Gwen's driver and fitter climbed aboard one of Bowler's passenger coaches. With another hoot of his horn, the snooty engine departed from the station.

Gwen sighed, her fate now seemingly final. She had to admit it to herself: being the yard pilot of a mainline yard wasn't all that she hoped. She was in a completely new environment, without any friends. Friends?

She suddenly jolted, realizing that she probably wouldn't see her friends again. This threw her into a momentary panic, but then she remembered something.

"Wait... You're a yard shunter as well, aren't you?" she asked, directing her question to Diesel.

"I am." the Gronk replied "What of it?"

"But you said you'll take a train of hoppers up to the mines!" the little shunter inquired.

"Ah. That." Diesel could see where she was going "Yes, well, I have been modified with a shift gear box, along with the other Class 08 shunters and derivatives assigned to this yard, enabling me to pull smaller goods trains, and travel relatively fast."

"Derivatives?" the two mares asked. Besides Diesel, the Iron Twins, 'Arry and Bert, and Diesel 10's former henchmen, Splatter and Dodge were also based here (even if they were in contract with the Ironworks). But as far as they knew, they were all Class 08 shunters, like Diesel himself.

"The Iron Bros are Class 08s." he explained "But Dodge and Splatter are actually our cousins. They're Class 09s. That version of the original, L.M.S.-built shunters, later Class 11s, were designed to have a higher to speed, at the cost of lower tractive effort."

"What does that mean?" Rainbow asked, puzzled.

"Pah. Some fitter you are." Diesel sneered "To put it in "laymare's" term, it means that they can't grip the rails as well as we do. However, they do have a higher top speed. They can go 53 miles per hour, or 85 kilometers per hour, while we can only do 47 miles, or 75 kilometers per hour."

"Get of my wings, I've only been taking care of those two for..."

"A year?" Diesel snickered "Hmh. Not a quick learner, are you, Rainbow Dash?"

The pegasus just growled, crossing her forelegs sulkily. They knew by now, as they had to suffer from it upon every wrong turn, that the shunter was somehow capable of using not a disparaging moniker or nickname, but rather, their full names, to create the most caustic of insults.

Later that day, after Diesel had left to the mines with Twilight on board, Gwen was shunting in the yard, when she saw a big, blue, but very dirty and scruffy diesel roll into the yard.

He had a thick stubble, a dent nose, and a crooked BR "double arrow" on his sides, among the scratches, rust spots, splashed-up mud and graffiti, his number being 'D199'. He introduced himself as Spamcan, and asked about his train, a local, mixed freight which they had organized a couple of hours ago.

The gruff goods engine coupled up to his trucks, and grumbled his "than' you", but as he was about to depart, a rather similar looking dark green engine rolled into the yard, pulling the empty trucks of a cross-country freight train. He was much more cleaner than the blue one, but had an air of unnatural cleanliness around him. Gwen squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze, as he, with what can only be described as a slasher smile, asked her to sort his trucks out, lest the local goods will be delayed - as it turned out, his long train had blocked the switches leading out onto the main line, thus trapping Spamcan in his siding. The goods engine was fuming, and his driver, an orange, cowmare-like character, jumped out of his cab, and stormed off towards the fuel depot where the engine, "Sulzer", has parked himself. She quickly engaged in banter with the big, green engine, only to be answered by it's driver, another orange mare who looked hauntingly similar to her. Gwen wasn't really paying them any attention, though, as she tried, with all her might, to move the long line of trucks.

Eventually, she pulled them clear off the points, and Spamcan could finally leave. He and his driver left the yard looking very frumpy indeed. Meanwhile, Sulzer rumbled and roared in delight. Gwen decided not to speak with him, and just took his train apart, so that the trucks may be rearranged into other trains later on.

It was evening by the time Diesel had returned from the mine, shuffling into the yard, feeling very tired, and very irritated. Enduring the trollish nature of the mining locos at Pyker's Peak All-Mineral Mine was something not many diesel could manage, well, not without murdering one of them.

Twilight was likewise exhausted, staggering out from the cab like she hadn't slept or eaten in days (which could easily be true, considering her work-a-holic nature, and the rather jumpy schedules). After filling up her engine's tank with the strongest ethanol-based fuel available, she collapsed, and had to be carried to the workers' residence above the main shed's berths.

Joining the other shunters at the fuel depot, they discussed their day. Matt and Jonsey did well in the other side of the yard. Oddly enough, Steamie was nowhere to be seen all day, so they had to manage without him.

"It wasn't really a challenge." Jonsey mused "The little prat must be a real wimp if he couldn't manage the yards alone."

"Oh, he could." Diesel muttered. He was too tired to even insult the psychotic tank engine "Just not fast enough."

"Oh?" the G.W.R. shunter asked, snickering "Well, he certainly was quick to leave the yard once we showed up."

"Wait... He actively ran away from you?" Diesel asked "That's... Rather suspicious."

"Didn't you say that he was a kook?" Matt asked.

"Yes, yes, but even so... Running away from new engine he hasn't even met yet... It's not like him..."

"O' loi'e 'is droive'..." 'Arry added. He and his brother had returned from the Ironworks for the night.

"With all the ongoing feuds we have now, we really can't afford another screw-up..." the black Class 08 sighed "However, due to said feuds and the increased workload, there's nothing we can do about it right now. We have more pressing matters at hand."

"Wait... Ongoing feuds?" Gwen asked, remembering the conflict between the two goods engines from during the day.

"Haven't you noticed?"

The others were surprised.

"There's some serious bad blood between many of the big engines." Jonsey explained "Growler has built up quite a disreputable reputation the last time he visited the Other Railway. Well, at least I assume so, considering that he received the glamorous nickname, "Young Fuck-up"."

"And that's just one of the milder ones." Diesel added "Napier's doing fine, I guess, but I can already tell there's a forming grudge between Legion and Old Stuck-Up."

"Why is that?" the Class 02 asked.

"Well, Stuck-Up is like the rest of 'em." Matt explained "Snooty. Haughty. An utter posh twat. But, being an engine, he knows his labour."

"Ya coul' call 'im a lef' win' nati'nalisht." Bert added "Many o' th' big lu's ar'."

"For all his arrogance and upperclass twittery, both he and Bowler have a sense of rationality." the jet black shunter went on "Legion on the other hand... Is a bleeding heart."

"A what?"

"An, overly sensitive little liberal, and he hides it very badly." replied Jonsey "He's... Attentive towards others, but, being a passenger engine, and a Class 55 at that, he refuses to show any signs of philanthropy."

"Why not?" asked the little shunter.

"He fears, rightfully, that the others would chew him out for this." answered Diesel "If anything, British Railways had taught us that exposing your weaknesses equals suicide."

"All the same..." Jonsey continued, shuddering at the Class 08's dark comment "Faking your identity, no matter how light it is, creates ambiguity, especially if you're pulling it off as shoddily as Legion."

"An' 'mbegu'ty 's sum'in' th' bi' 'ngi'es ca't tolera'e..." said 'Arry, thoughtfully, remembering how the others reacted to Cromwell initially, after they saved him from Sodor.

"What about that grey and blue engine?"

"The Class 59?" Matt asked "He's a meek sort, no problem with him."

"He should start pulling his weight, though." Jonsey added " Being meek is one thing, but he's so silent with his work that he teeters towards visually workshy..."

Gwen found this comment rather confusing, so she let it slip.

"What about the others?"

"Well, you could say that the family relations of the resident Peaks had gone sour." the Class 06 muttered "Talk about sibling rivalry..."

"Tell me about it..." Gwen mused.

"Oh. So you got into a bit of an... Interaction with them, I presume?" Matt asked back, with a cheesy grin.

"Get. Your mind. Out. Of the gutter." Jonsey droned, before turning to her "But anyways... You've already met them, then?"

"Yeah..." and she explained what has happened during the day. The others didn't seem surprised.

"That's nothing compared to what they usually get up to." Diesel sneered.

"Whatever caused their fallout?"

The three Class 08s present exchanged looks.

"We... Don' tal' 'bou' i'..." Bert admitted, after a long pause.

And the conversation ended there. Painfully awkwardly, and discomforting.

11:27 PM

It was getting close to midnight. In order to make sure that the new shunters learned the yard layout, Dr. Whooves gave them the night shift as well, promising to let them sleep in the day after. Steamie and Pinkie Pie were still absent, and the brown stallion was getting worried. He had called every yard and station in the vicinity, and was in the midst of organizing a search party, consisting of him, the Brakefather, Derpy, and Vac. Spike also volunteered, along with BoZo, but Twilight sent him to bed promptly, and BoZo was deemed too leaky.

That night, the mares gathered in the sleeping quarters above the engine berths.
Trixie and Gilda were still wide awake, and didn't mind the company. Appleblack was absent, having gone to visit her family in town, now that Applejack wasn't around them.

"This simply can't go on." Rarity mused. Her usual speech mannerism was almost forgotten, as she exhaled. The others nodded in agreement.

"These sheds have become unbearable in the past couple of days." added Twilight "Spamcan and Sulzer won't stop taking stabs at each other, Growler and Legion are constantly driving all the engines up the walls, and with Derek and Fluttershy gone, there's no-one to pacify any of them."

"That may be for the better." put in Gilda "From what I've heard from CoBo, Sulzer was a complete monster towards Derek, and I don't think Appleblack would be any different towards Fluttershy."

"Or worse, drag 'er down with her... Habits." Applejack muttered. She looked exhausted, with dark circles around her eyes, and blood-shot sclera. The past couple of days have taken a toll on her.

"We won't be able to help you guys, either. We've been ordered back to the Works, up until next Tuesday." Rainbow Dash added.

"Oh? Why is that?" asked Trixie.

"A full order of steel girders have been trashed by a train crash at Neigh York Central." replied the blue pegasus "There have been no casualties, but the staff discovered that many of the girders were defective. Some of them shattered like glass during the crash. Bloody bio-gas furnaces. The heck's the problem with charcoal, anyway?"

"We also have Crusher to deal with." Rarity added "That engine is just... Sinister."

"He gives me the creeps." Gilda admitted, shocking the others "I wonder how he slipped in."

"Well, Doc Whooves told me that the line was under a 24-7 watch after he heard the bad news. The Board also ordered him to be on the watch for some other mystery engine." said Rainbow.

"Ah, so the midnight phantom IS real!" the ivory unicorn exclaimed.

"Ugh... Is that how it's been called? Seriously?"

The griffon was not impressed.

"Yeah, besides that, we have a couple of nice guys on our hands, as well." said the lavender unicorn.

"Agreed." Rainbow mused "Gwen's nice and all, but Matt and Jonsey won't be for long."

She paused for a moment.

"I really hope we find Pinkie and Steamy."

"Me too. They've been acting a bit aloof this last couple of days." Twilight added "I hope they're alright. I'm worried that..."

"Yeah?"

"They may have gotten into something. Something bad."

After pondering for a few moments, Gilda's eyes widened. But she said nothing.

"There's also this bad blood between you and your cousin, AJ." Rainbow muttered "Its really getting to you."

"Don't... Call i' that." the applefarmer yawned "Anyways. Napier and that other engine seem nice."

"Yeah, although, I barely hear from the poor thing." said Rarity "I'm worried if we're alienating him."

"We probably are." mused Gilda, still not quite there after her recent thoughts.

"I guess..." Trixie muttered, glancing out into the storm "All we can do now is wait, and... Hope for the best."

The others, albeit uneasily, agreed.

Author's Note

AAAAaaaaaand, we're back on track!

Prologue - Part 1

"Oooouugh..."

I groan. Swift in bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. No. No. No... No! NO!

Blanket slips down. Tug it back. Slips down again.

No bother.

The morning air is cold. I left the window open. Dangit!

Sheet is a tangled mess. Not comfortable.

I yawn, and sit up.

"Morning already?"

Yeah. Another morning. Hopefully, none of us will go loco today, nor we will have to save the world. Again.

I rub my eyes. Not as uncomfortable as you think, even if I have hooves.

I get up, still feeling like my legs are made of led.

I stagger into the bathroom.

Alright.

Sit down.

Think of waterfalls.

Rain pouring down.

Rainbows.

Rainbow fact-- NO!

. . . . .

Finally!

Relief.

Wipe.

Go to sink, wash hooves.

Let's see.

Ruffled mane = good night sleep.

Sweating = rough night.

Reddish eyes = still tired (no question about that),

A highly noticeable wingboner...

WHAT?!

A wingboner?!

Blushing.

Trying to remember last night...

Nothing.

Trying to recall anything from sleep...

Distant...

With the Wonderbolts...

Blush even redder. No one around...? Yes.

OK, let's sit down...

What was it all about?

Let's see...
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.... Heheh...

NO!

Restrain yourself!

Get up!

Splatter cold water into face!

No. Not refreshing.

Just cold.

Shudder.

Wingboner still present.

Wash teeth.

Gurgle.

Spat.

Wipe.

Make breakfast (cornflakes).

Eat.

Check for work order.

Got a week off.

HOTCHAAA!

Brush hair.

Feels nice.

Go to door.

Checking - Wingboner gone.

"Bloody Hell Yes!"

Wait.

'Bloody Hell Yes'?

I'm not THAT much of a cursing type.

Also, "bloody"? Is that even a curse word? I'm confused. Only that weird brown stallion with the Hourglass cutie mark says that, every now and then.

I'm bewildered.

Open door.

Walk to edge.

"HEY, RAINBOW DASH!"

Stop.

Look down.

Scootaloo.

"GOOD MORNING, SQUIRT, WHAT IS IT?"

"YA GOTTA COME TO PONYVILLE! THERE'S SOMETHING GOING ON!"

Bite lower lips.

"IS IT BAD?"

"NO, just... UNUSUAL!"

Small sight of relief.

"OK. I'M COMING DOWN!"

Fly down.

Towards the town.

Cool air brushing against whole body. Feels nice.

Scootaloo follows, using her wings to power her scooter.

Clever girl.

Wonder about what the commotion is.

Begin hoping it's a handsome, muscular pegasi stallion looking for a...

Dropping height.

Shake head and temporal wingboner off.

Make an early resolution about finding a boyfriend.

Arrive to Ponyville.

Go to main square.

"...WHAT THE...?!"

***********************************************************

Wake up.

Yawn.

Stretch forelegs.

Get out of bed.

Stretch entire body.

Out of bedroom.

Down the stairs.

Pass big brother and little sister next to the bathroom. Lil' sis squealing, looking desperate.

Brother... The usual.

"Good mornin' y'all!"

"Mornin' Applejack."

"Gottagogottagogottagogottagogottago!"

Snicker.

Go outside.

To water tank.

Pull lever. It creaks loudly.

Water falls.

Standing, relaxing.

From the house:

"FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

"Eeyup!"

Chuckle.

Stop.

Grit teeth.

"Horse apples. Gotta go too!"

Waiting.

Door opens.

"All yours!"

Inside. Quick!

"AAAAaaaah... Goodness! RELIEF!"

Get out.

Others staring.

Quite shocked.

Blush.

"Eheh... 'scuse me."

Get to kitchen.

Find a pear.

Wait, WHAT?!

Pear?

Oh well.

Give it a sniff.

Nothing.

Give it a taste.

Hmmm... Not bad.

Eat it...

Realize!

Run to bedroom.

Put on hat.

. . . . . .

Get outside.

"Applejack! Applejack!"

Little sister comes over.

"Wha' is it, Applebloom?"

She looks excited. I wonder.

"Ya gotta see this, big sis! There's something going on in town!"

My eyes narrow.

"We'll be there right away!"

We ran out.

Down the dusty road, towards town.

There is a large crowd in the town center, and Rainbow Dash is already there.

I meet with her, and move to the source of the commotion.

...WHAT the TARNATION?!

**************************************************************************

As the first rays of Princess Celestia's sun shine through my window, my head pops out from the pillows.

And immediately buckles back.

"Mmmmmmmmmmh..."

I moan.

I've been visiting my friend's dreams all night. Sure, they don't believe in my Fourth Wall powers (heck, they didn't believed in my Pinkie Sense at first), but this is just awesome!

Thought, I'm not sure what to think of Rainbow Dash right now...

Oh well, best not to mention it to her.

I just hope she doesn't remembers.

I open the window, lean out, and take a deep breath...

Sweet, cool morning air.

Like ice creams.

And...

*cough cough cough* *sneeze* *splutter*

EEEYUCK!

EEEW!

Smoke!

Who's smoking?!

Wait. They don't sell cigarettes or anything like that here.

Must be a visitor then!

OMYGOSH! I must throw a par-tey then!

Wait.

There's something odd about this smoke.

Take a whiff.

Eeeugh.

It's...

Thick.

And sooty.

And grimy.

BLEUGH!

And... Oily?

Like... Some sort of fuel, maybe?

But not burned well?

Also, a bit of steam.

But how?

The railway doesn't go trough here.

Yet.

My Pinkie Sense is silent.

Fourth Wall tells me nothing.

I'm worried.

I ran down the stairs, my foster parents yet to wake, and out into the street.

I saw a massive crowd, two of my friends already there.

Then, I saw...

Him...

"...HUH?!"

************************************************************************

I'm woken from my beauty sleep by my little sister.

"Rarity! Rarity! Wake up!"

I groan, and sit up...

"What is it?"

"Eeeek!" she squeals, and hides under the bed.

I groaned again, and took the cucumber off.

"There... Now... What is it, Sweetie Belle?"

She peeks out from underneath, then quickly climbs out.

"There's a great commotion going on at the town square! Everybody's there!"

I frown.

"Even your friends!"

Now, THAT'S different. Maybe Princess Celestia, or Luna is visiting. Maybe another royalty. Maybe.

"Oh my gosh! This is my big chance!"

It so is!

I quickly jump out of the bed, wash my face, my teeth, put some quick make-up on - when you have to hurry, you have to - and some perfume, as I don't have time for a shower.

Little sister is waiting at the front door.

"C'mon! We'll miss it!"

NO! We simply can't!

*Gurgle!*

I frown again. Neither of us had breakfast yet. We can't go there with an empty stomach.

"Shouldn't we eat first?"

She doesn't seems to mind her hunger.

"No! We can have some afterwards!"

I agree.
And, we can always visit Sugarcube Corner. Or ask Applejack.

We head off, fast, but delicately.

Suddenly, it hit me!

I shrieked as I came to a halt.

But it wasn't my mouth!

I just stared.

I lifted my left front leg, and stared at my hoof.

The sound I made, when I stopped...

It sounded like metal!

Screeching on metal!

I was bewildered.

I looked back behind myself.

Sweetie Belle was lying on the ground, front hooves covering her ears, eyes shut...

She opened one eye, then both, then sat up.

"Has it stopped yet?" she asked.

I felt blood rushing into my cheeks.

"Yes."

She shook her head.

"Why did you screamed? Oh!"

She realized.

And quickly, she whipped out a comb from what we would call a pocket (Pinkie Pie calls it "Hammerplace", but she's... Well... Pinkie Pie).

I gotta admit, she worked fast, and it looked just smashing, as I saw it in the pond near by.

We hurried off to town.

Once near the town square, we saw the crowd...

And among them was...

"...WHAHAHAAH!"

**********************************************************************

I felt a small paw tapping on my back...

I turned towards it.

"Angel?" I asked.

It was indeed my little bunny. A bit forceful, I know, but still, my best helper.

And he keeps tapping me, more forcefully.

"What is it, Angel?" I yawn.

My sight is still hazy, but I can still see him pointing towards the door.

"You want me to get out?" I ask, smiling.

He begins to nod, then, upon noticing the shocked look of the other animals, he begins to shake his little head, frantically.
I chuckle, and roll out of bed.

Once outside, Angel began to point towards Ponyville.

"Oh, is there something about?" I asked.

He nodded furiously, and pointed towards it.

I was soon off, leaving Angel in charge of the others for the morning at least.

Once I arrived in town, I was quick to notice the big crowd that gathered around something at the square...

I flied over, and was delighted to see my friends...

Then I saw, why were ponies gathering.

"...What?"

*********************************************************************

"Twilight! TWILIGHT! WAKE UP!"

As if his shouting didn't already wake me up, his nudging made extra sure to knock the dreams out of my eyes.

I shook my head, and sat up.

"Ugh... What is it, Spike?"

I have to give him that he's very sober and vigilant.

He was up, earlier than I am, seemingly ready for anything.

Got out of bed.

Washed my face.

Ate a sandwich.

And all the while...

"TWILIGHT! I'm serious! There's something going over town! We gotta check it out!"

We soon headed out towards the town square.

Once near it, I realized how right Spike was to be this concerned.

The... Being, that stood over the crowd...

...WHO-WHAT IS THAT?!

*************************************************************************

The soaring tall figure howered over the crowd, which kept a safe distance from him.

He was tall, taller than Celestia, presumably as long as the cursed draconequus Discord.

What the many ponies were most surprised about was that this entity stood on it's hind legs, perfectly balanced - although, judging by his body structure, he had been doing that for quite some time by now.

While his limbs were long, his torso seemed relatively small, not too small, thought. He wore clothes, unusual ones:

A thin, yet well-stuffed dark green winter coat, open, revealing the dull black pullover under it, some loose greenish-gray camouflage trousers, sharp, pointy browns shoes with Velcros, and a black Swiss beret on top of his round head.

To be honest, the entire body structure of the visitor was odd:

A round, ball shaped head, either no hair, or well hidden under the cap, no eyebrows, trapezoid-shaped eyes, completely monochrome, just black and white, well defined shoulders, long arms and legs widening from joint to end, slightly, long, pointy fingers, almost like claws, and the upper mentioned big, triangle-based shoes, which seemed to contain a similarly shaped feet within.

"'Allo!" it spoke in a weird accent.

No response.

The being slowly reached up to his head, and scratched the back of it.

"Ummm..." it seemed to be just as confused as the ponies...

"Please...! Move aside a bit, if you will... Coming trough! Ugh!" the Mayor popped out of the crowd like a cork from a bottle.

Standing up, and brushing the dust off from her mane, she glanced at the being.

"...Greetings, dear, uh, visitor" she spoke, with only a hint of uncertainty "Welcome to Ponyville!"

The being smiled, kindly.

"Greetings." he replied promptly "You must be the Mayor, I assume?"

"Well... Yes indeed..." the latter replied "And who may we respect in you?"

The being grinned.

"My name is Alexei. I'm an inter-dimensional traveler. I've came to meet your princess... -es..."

The ponies gasped.

The next second, a young cyan mare with a rainbow colored mane and tail came up into Alexei's nose-less face.

"Back off, chump! You'll hafta fight trough ME if you want to do anything with the princess!" she sneered.

"But I..." before the 'traveler' could continue, another pegasi, this one yellow with a long pink mane and tail, flew over to them, covering up the cyan one's mouth.

"What she meant to say was, that, we would really appreciate if you'll be so kind as to explain why you want to visit our princess in such a haste..." she spoke, timidly.

Alexei smiled grandly.

"I was just about to..."

Again, he was interrupted, when a pink pony jumped up to the top of his hat.

"OOOOH! Are you from the Audience?! Really, you are an inter-dimensional traveler? This must be your first time in Ponyville!" *le gasp* "Maybe even your first ever time in Equestria! I must trow a party for you!" she babbled on her high pitched voice.

"Look, I'm really in a hurry, and..."

Again, the figure was cut off by another pony, this time, an orange one with blonde mane and tail, wearing a brown cowgirl/farmer hat.

"Now, sugahcube! Get off the poor fella'! Look at 'im, he's all skin an' bones! First thing first, he should eat sum' refreshin' apples, and explain why he's here..."

Again, the being smiled...

"Oh, that would be lovely! I sure am peckish after my journey, and..."

Once again, he was cut off, by something he first believed was a giant marshmallow, until he realized it was another pony, with an elegant mane-due.

"No no no no NO! This will never do!" she spoke hectically "I mean, just LOOK at your clothes! You definitely SHOULDN'T visit the Princess dressed like this! Oh, if I can get some scales from you, I'm sure I'll be able to design a proper clothing for you!"

The figure's face turned serious.

"Look, ma'am, I appreciate all of you help, but I'm really in a hurry! Besides, these are my favorite clothes, and I'm kind of fond of them - definitely not afraid to show them to the Princess! So, the clothes stay! And that's that!"

While Rarity momentarily fainted (onto her couch, of course), Twilight jumped out of the crowd, with Spike on his back.

"DON'T PANIC, EVERYPONY!" she yelled "I'M SURE WE COULD SETTLE THINGS PEACEFULLY!"
The traveler lost patience.

"WE SURE COULD IF YOU LOT WOULD JUST SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME FOR A DAMN SECOND!" he roared.

Everybody turned silent.

Forcefully, but not harshly, Alexei removed Pinkie Pie from his head, and pushed the two pegasi down from his face, onto the ground.

Once all on the ground, the six ponies lined up with the Mayor, looking at him with what appeared to be puppy eyes.
Clearing his throat after the outburst, he began to speak again.

"Sorry about that. But, now that you all listen, let me explain. As I've already mentioned, I'm Alexei, and I'm an inter-dimensional traveler. My job is to keep balance between the different zones, timelines, and dimensions that coexist within this stream of multiverses. Recently, I've noticed that a group of... "Trespassers" decided to visit your dimension, of course, they could only do this by going trough the ones that distance you from their. And that is quite a lot of timelines, alterations, and whatnot. We still have approximately a week or so before they arrive here. Now, it isn't likely that they're hostile, but only one of them wants to actually visit this world, the others are simply after that person, and will be extremely pissed once they arrive here. And that's the point. Their entire existence here may change the fate of your world greatly. And that one I know! If it wouldn't be like that, I would appear in an incarnation that fits in your world, you know, a pony, or something. But since I'm in my normal, humanoid form, that means that something is a BOUND to happen, and I'm not sure how it'll go! So I must visit your Princess to make sure everyone's ready! Also, simply the fact that I'm in my normal form and not in a version that fits your world, means that I'll be involved GREATLY. So... Can you lead me to your Princess?"

Everybody, pardon, everyPONY just stared at him...

"Wow. You've must of hit your head hard..." Rainbow Dash spoke up "You make less sense than that Doctor guy."

The traveler's eyes widened.

"The DOCTOR is here?!" he gasped "Perfect!"

"But, you know, he's a... Pony... Like us..." the cyan pegasi added.

"Oh..."

"Anyways..." Twilight joined in "I can send a letter to Princess Celestia if you wish...

"An' while you're still here, eat sum'thin'!" Applejack added.

"Oh, thank you, that would be delightful!" Alexei replied, smiling again.

As Twilight went along with the Mayor for a pen and papers, the crowd began to slowly break up, the five other ponies still remaining...

"You could also explain yourself a bit more... Clearly." said the rainbow pegasi "You haven't said much with all that gibberish about dimensions and stuff..."

"Oh, alright, I'll explain!"

***************************************************************************

"...And you see, that's how it is." the figure finished, also finishing his apple pie.

The five ponies looked at him, absolutely bewildered. What they just heard was the most complex scientifically jabber that one could find in High-University studies and science-fiction books. AND it all made sense.

"Well, tie me up an' call me Ginger, I've never knew our world was so tiny." Applejack muttered, summing up what they all thought afterwards.

"Oh well, even the smallest counts..." Alexei smiled "And this was a damn good apple pie. I'm guessing this is your specialty..." he added, smiling.

"Well, yes, among other things involving apples." the orange mare replied, a hint of a blush passing over her face.

Rarity, who has been silent for some time, also spoke up.

"So, you're a GOD as well?"

The others stared.

"Yeeeaaah, I was about to get that part." the traveler grinned "How did ya figured out?"

"Easy. An oddly built body, the most casual clothes I've ever seen, traveling trough the larger part of what we can still comprehend of the world without any equipment, AND having a VAST knowledge in both the entire... What did you called it? OMNIVERSE'S history and how things work. My..." Rarity was taken "The only other person I've heard talking this way was the Doctor."

"Tell me, does this "Doctor" has anything unusual habit, like an odd accent, anything revolving around time, or something like a blue cabin of some sort, perhaps asking for random things to save the world?"

The five mares exchanged looks.

"Well, DUH!" Pinkie Pie exclaimed "He lives in a weird blue shed that barely looks enough for ONE pony to fit in, yet whenever someone speaks with him when he's in, it always has an echo to it..."

"He does have an odd accent, li'e this, speakin' veary caerefulley, and usin' stuff li'e "fancy that", "brilliant" and "smashing"!" Rainbow Dash added.

Rarity frowned.

"I usually use that last one." then, her face lifted "Also, he often asks for random things which he claims he needs to save the world with, like you said."

"He talks abou' a LOOOT of crayze thin', involving time, space, continuum (whatever that is), and traveling with that shed of his..." Applejack joined in "He actually named it! Now wha' was it...? Something beginning with 'T'." her eyes widened "He even has a hourglass fer a cutie mark!"

"Also, I don't know if you noticed, but there are a lot of ponies resembling him, only slightly different, but all bare the same cutie mark." Fluttershy added "He usually hangs out with Ditzy Doo, and she said he's a time traveler, claiming himself to be a "Time Lord", and he also claims to be over 900 years old, and has a great dislike for pears."

After the explanation, they all looked at the thinking Alexei contently.

They were more than alarmed when he finally spoke up:

"Well, FANCY THAT! Doctor Who! Err... Whooves! Here! Hmmm... Must be his new settling base, if he's a pony. Ah well... All in good time..."

As he finished muttering, the orange mare leaned closer.

"Are yah plannin' somethin', sugah'." she asked, eyeing up the sitting figure.

"Maybe." the traveler replied with acted innocence, then picked up a Cheshire cat grin, leaning into the pony's face "Your problem with it?"

While Applejack meekly stepped back, Twilight entered the room, along with Spike.

" Well, I've sent a message, and the Princess has already replied."

"AND?" the others asked in unison.

"I'm afraid, she won't be able to see into this matter right now, first possible time being three days from now."
"Oh well." Alexei shrugged.

"So, anyway... Mind telling us more about what's going on..." Twilight asked with a timid smile.
The others just groaned.

Prologue - Part 5

The next morning came.

The elder princess had already raised the sun, and it's rays were shining brightly, covering the land in the gentle light that was so often noticed in Celestia's violet eyes, warming up the ground with the heat said to be akin to the warmth of kindness in the heart of the diarch.

So, it was around 9:30 AM.

"AOUUUGH, my HEAD!" Twilight Sparkle groaned, her hooves instantly at her forehead, kneading it fiercely... Slowly, she opened one eye. Then the other, and blinked. Above herself, she could see a dirty white ceiling. She sat up, and looked around...

She was in something like a quite small cab, sitting on an opened chair-bed. To her left was a control panel of some sort, with many levers, knobs and dials, and with two narrow, oblong windows on each sides of it, blinding light shining trough them brightly... Both behind and in front of her was a door and a window on the wall, which was seemingly covered in some dirty gray plastic wallpaper. The floor, was covered in some cheap, gray linoleum, though the color was hardly recognizable, is it was nearly black with grime, especially around the wall. To her right were two larger, square windows. Looking trough them, or more likely, trying to look trough the badly scratched glass in them, she could see a dimly lit room with a brick wall at the back - some rails, coming from under the cab, led straight to it...

Still unsure of what to think of all of this, she tried to get down from the seat... But instead, she slipped off, and fell onto the dirty floor...

Looking around, she noticed she was in a sleeping bag. Tugging it off, she opened the metal door, and stepped outside...

...Tumbling down onto the ground, as the cab was slightly higher than the ground...

"This isn't my day..." she muttered, as she got up...

Walking out into the light, she could see where she slept the night.

The nefarious jet black shunting diesel had been parked in some sort of large brick shed, with many large double doors on it, and with rails leading out from under them...

Diesel himself was at the door, partly outside the shed, snoozing quietly. The lavender pony embraced the warm rays of the sun, quietly uttering a prayer to Celestia, then turned back to the sleeping engine.

The glum look didn't left his face, even when he was sleeping, thought it softened a bit.

Twilight took a deep breath... She had a feeling she'll need all her confidence to do what what she did next.

"Wake up, Diesel!" she said, semi-loudly.

The engine snorted, then, with a hurriedly uttered "Huh-Wha...?" and rapid blinking, he woke up. Slowly but surely, he opened his eyes, and looked around, still tired. Finally, his saggy eyes fell on the purple unicorn in front of his buffers. His eyes shot wide open, eyebrows raised comically high and shaking slightly, along with his - for the moment - pin prick sized pupils, before they sank back into their original position - an indifferent, slightly scornful look.

"Oh, it's you again..." he murmured, somberly "Guess I wasn't dreaming then..."

"No, it seems you weren't..." Twilight smiled at him warmly, trying very hard to overcome the urging need to turn her back to the unfriendly machine (and race off to find a toilet) "And neither were I. So... Where are the others?" she asked, looking around...

"In the sheds, I presume..." Diesel replied, sounding disinterested and disheartened "That stick figure, Alexei, magicked a bunch of sheds for us out of thin air. We parked in while you were sleeping..."

"Wait, how can you move without a driver?" the unicorn suddenly asked.

"Good question, but I'm afraid you wouldn't understand..." the engine answered in a pompous manner. This made Twilight frown. She narrowed her eyes, and gave a gave a valiant smile.

"Try me! - she muttered.

Diesel rolled his eyes, as if metaphorically shrugging his shoulders, then began...

Twenty minutes later, he finished, and glanced down upon a... Quite unsettling sight...

Twilight, who looked bed-headed before, now seemed to look like someone who should be bedridden, eyes and ears randomly twitching, face squinted in an excruciating expression with eyes stretched open, her mane and tail a tangled mess, and she was laying on her side, gently hugging and rubbing her hair to her chest, while she pat it with one of her hooves...

The shunter looked down at her, bemused and amused, before chuckling sarcastically:

"Now I've seen everything! An anthropomorphic Post-Beatnik on crack!"

This made Twilight shot upright into a strained standing position, before she began to fidget around.

"WHAT?! No, I'm. Fine. Thanks for worrying, but... Everything is alright..." she said, near incoherently fast, before breaking into a demented giggle. Diesel stared on, before a serious expression came over his face.

"Alright. So, you're all fine?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, YES. I am." the purple pony replied, with a strained smile...

"You sure?" Diesel asked again, his eyes narrowed. He was taken aback, as the unicorn began to rapidly nod, or more like shake her head up and down violently.

"Alright." he replied, after a long while "Then go AND VISIT A BLOODY BATHROOM!"

Twilight stopped fidgeting, and gazed up at him with wandering, puppy eyes. "What?"

"What "what"? You didn't truly believe that I wouldn't notice, did you? And to think you're a mature mare..." he sighed, rhetorically "Anyways, do us all a favor, and excuse yourself while you still can..." he snapped, then grumbled to himself "The last thing I want in the morning is to have my wheels covered in horse urine."

He looked back down, only to see a slightly-offended-looking pony staring at him with an eyebrow raised.

"WHAT are ya still doing here?" he snapped, making her squirm, and try to look smaller "Go to the bloody loo!"

And Twilight, with her ears lowered and tail in between her hind legs, trotted of, then, when she thought she was enough far, raced of at Mach 4, to find the nearest restroom.

When she came back, all the other mares and engines were awake, and the engines that slept in the other sheds were waking up as well...

"Good mornin', Twahligh'!" Applejack greeted her.

"'Mornin'!" Spamcan added, as casual and devil-may-care as possible. Applejack was apparently at his buffers, examining them, and trying to rub of a bit of grime from it with her front legs...

"Ya sure ya shoul' be doin' tha'?" the dirty blue diesel asked "I mea', do ya 'NO' wha's on those buffe's?"

The orange mare's eyes went wide, before she reversed slightly, but still, she kept observing his buffers.

"Hmmm... A bit filthy, ah grant ya... Bu' still, with a bit of TLC, he'll be as spic and spam as new!"

"Mhhh!" Spamcan grumbled "I already had ma fai' sha'e o' spam, thank ya. An' th' LAST bloo'y thin' I wanna do is loo' li'e tha' posh TWA', Stu'k-Up!"

"Indeed, the LAST damned thing we'd need here is a filthy COMMON engine posing as such important high-society member as I AM." the latter named replied, not much as posh as blustering.

"What's the matter, darling?" Rarity asked, stepping out from behind the the express engine.

"They're at it again..." Applejack replied, and both mares groaned.

Old Stuck-up and Spamcan never parked beside each other in the sheds, naturally, but when they did, it was "argue-argue-argue" for hours on end!

In fact, the other engines, and the mares woke up to their distraught yell and the first wave of many swears, curses and name-calling.

And by now, they had a gutful of it. Especially a certain orange earth pony and an oversized marshmall--... I mean, white unicorn.

"Ah, WILL YA SHOVE A SOCK IN IT?!" Applejack snapped.

"You've been bantering since we woke up!" Rarity added "I can't imagine what you've got yourselves so worked up about, but it's about time you two come to a common ground, and, more importantly, be quiet for a moment!"

"Yeah, just what set ya up at each other?" the orange mare asked.

"Oh, i's nothin'..." Spamcan replied, sarcastically "We jus' CAN' STAN' each othe'!"

"The LAST thing BOTH OF US, I presume, wanted, is to woke up with the other by it's side!" Stuck-Up added "And indeed, the LAST thing I want to start the morning is a filthy goods engine beside me! I already fill dirty, and I'm roughly a two meters from him!"

"Actually, ya dum' twa', i's exa'ly 2 me'ers, 4 decime'ers and 8 centime'ers, plus-minus 3 milime'ers."

After a long, awed stare, Stuck-Up finally retorted:

"Well, so it is!" he replied, still baffled by the head freight engine's precision. He then turned his gaze on the two ponies in front of them "And you two are the LAST who should be complaining! You yourselves aren't the best chatting partners from what we've heard!"

The two mares just stared, before blinking.

"And just where, pray tell, did you heard THAT?" Rarity asked, suspiciously.

The two diesels blinked, before they slowly looked at each other, their gloomy looks turning into knowing, guileful smirks, as they slowly looked back down onto the now less confident ponies. Pinkie, feeling that another painful humiliation was about to come, stepped forward, and readied herself - she didn't know horseapples about the engines' relations, aside from the fact that they hated each other, AND that despite this, they were still capable to work with - or against - each other. But other than that, she had no idea how to put up a banter with them. She still had to try, even though they seemed to know many rather... Touchy subjects about them. Most of these were fanfics, or, as they put it, "rumors", but still... She shuddered at the thought. Still, she had friends to stand up for.

But in the end, she didn't needed to stand up - well, at least, not as much as she expected.

"Why..." Stuck-up began, in a low, slick baritone "You know what rumors are like..."

The two mares' eyes went wide, and they gulped.

"Yeaah..." Spamcan added, his rough voice "smoothing" to raspy "Dey tell tales 'bou' two ma'es who argue all th' time. Dey also dey do i' ou' o' "difference i' class" or sum'hin'. Bu' MANY say the'e's sum'hin' DEEPE' be'in' all dis argue... If ya catch my meanin'..." he finished, both he and Stuck-Up were staring at them with fiendish looks on their faces, their grin wide, but narrow, full of malice and mischief.

Applejack and Rarity, on the other hand, looked more than a bit embarrassed. This awkward part of the rumors were left unknown to them till then. They looked away sheepishly, eyes cast down, their face flushed in a VERY deep shade.

Rainbow Dash came to their aid. Or at least attempted to.

"And WHAT makes you think YOU guys weren't, eeerrr... "COUPLING" last night?"

For a very brief moment, a hint of surprise and hesitancy came across the two engine's face, but it left, as fast as it came. Their expressions turned serious.

"Well, for your information, you living Skittles commercial..." the express diesel began, already confusing the pegasus "...If we WOULD'VE, indeed, "coupled" last night, there WOULD HAVE BEEN specific and very obvious signs of that!" he finished, indignantly.

"Also, wha's up wi' you an' se's?" Spamcan asked in grouchy manner "We've just arrived, an' ya already began shi'in' us! How more perverse can ya ge'?!"

As the full meaning of the sentences sank in, the rainbow pegasus began to blush, which turned deeper, and deeper...

"I must say, you'd better get a tight grip on your hormones, my dear..." the posh engine added with a sardonic tone.

At that moment, Alexei teleported to the site, with a parchment in his hands.

"'Scuse me for popping in like this, do you lot have a moment... Eh?" when he finally looked up, he saw that the engines and the ponies were looking at him, but most particularly, a very dazed and surprised looking Rainbow Dash, Rarity and Applejack were staring at him with deep blushes on their cheeks, and that Old Stuck-Up and Spamcan also looked very distraught...

"Am I... Interrupting something?" he asked, bewildered.

"NO!" came the suspiciously hasty reply from the five.

"Oouuh... Kay?" the Space Lord replied, raising an eyebrow "Anyways, I have some good news... And some bad news..."

"OK then..." Bowler replied "Let's start with the bad news... It's best to over them as soon as possible."

The others muttered their agreement...

Spike came out from beside Cromwell, yawning...

"Ugh, what's happening?" he asked.

"Spike! Where have you been?" Twilight snapped, sounding more worried than angry.

"Sleeping on Mr. Bottosly, or what's his name..." he replied.

"Wow, an' ya survived?" Bert asked.

"Ya could've blown us t' kingdom come!" 'Arry growled.

"ANYWAYS!" Bowler snapped "WHAT are the BAD news?"

Alexei sighed.

"Well, it pains me to say this, but... Derek really SHOULD HAVE read the small print part. The device you guys use is actually a ONE way ticket. You can't return to your home dimension directly, you'll have to go trough EVERY timeline in the OMNIVERSE to get back, but unfortunately, you can't even do that, because the warrant of the devices expires... Right now."

And that very moment, with green electric scintillation, some small devices fell off from under the engines' front buffer plates or cabs, and continued sizzling and crackling on the ground, before they finally stopped, letting out dark gray smoke and the smell of burning plastic.

The engines let out a gasp of shock and horror, their faces distorted with a mortified expression, and similar sounds came from the sheds around them. Derek winced. He could already feel Diesel's glare on himself.

"...But thankfully, the rail generators will still work for a few weeks, which exactly the time we need..."

"The time we need... For what?" Pip asked.

"Well, I'll explain that in a moment. The good news is, her highnesses, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna would like to see the representatives of the visitors in the throne hall of the Royal Castle, at Canterlot." and with that, he looked up from the parchment, and snickered "...Right now..."

This instantly changed the engines mood. They were all very excited... But soon, a question arose.

"And who will be the representatives?" Twilight asked.

Silence fell among them. They all exchanged puzzled looks.

Then Derek asked:

"Have there been any volunteers?"

The god shook his head.

"Well, then I guess we could go, can't we?" the Class 17 asked cheerfully.

"Indeed, we can!" Stuck-Up declared "Let's get going then! And you, mares and dragon..." he said, looking down at the equestrians "You shall accompany us... For we haven't the slightest clue, where the castle is located..."

The ponies exchanged glances, then Flutterhsy pointed onto a mountain. The engines eyes slowly followed where she was pointing... Roughly at the middle, they could see the castle-like city built on an out-cropping.

Their face fell, as they looked at the distance and height...

"Well, there ARE rail tracks leading up to it..." Rarity informed them.

"Good..." Stuck-Up replied in tired manner "This'll still take time..."

And under their breath, all muttered:

"Bugger!"

In the royal castle, the many ponies of the aristocracy were gathering. The Princesses themselves were already there. Princess Celestia had already done her rounds, having short chats with the guests, and was sitting down on her throne, when she noticed that her sister was sitting with a straight back, or more likely, a strained one. She was fidgeting with her hooves and her eyes darted around swiftly, often taking a glance out trough the windows, towards where Ponyville was.

"Is something bothering you, dear sister?" Celestia asked. Luna jumped slightly, and looked up.

"N-NO!" she replied, before noticing her sister's knowing smile "I mean... Yes..."

"Why, what is it?" the sun goddess asked again "Is it about the visitors?"

For a moment, Celestia THOUGHT she saw a STRONG hint of annoyance flashing trough her younger sibling's face.

"No..." Luna answered, her voice reflecting the small slip.

"It's about all these... Poshies... Pardon, ponies..." she continued, looking around nervously "Don't they... Don't they all know me?"

Her sister looked perplexed.

"Of course they do..." then, she suddenly realized. A wry, sad smile came over her face.

"Lulu..." she muttered "Remember... Forgive and forget... They know you're not the same mare that was Nightmare Moon..."

Upon noting the look on Celestia's face, Luna shook her head earnestly.

"It's not about that!" she replied "It's more about... What do they think of me, AS Princess Luna?" she muttered, again, taking a nervous glance around...

Celestia felt a laugh coming up...

"And wy-hy does THAT bother you?" she asked, suppressing a chuckle.

"Celly, I'm being serious!" Luna huffed "HOW can I socialize if I can't even TALK with them?" she was whisper-shouting by then. Her sister gave her a scolding smirk.

"Well, the first thing you should do is loosen up a bit!" she replied "As modern and casual they've became over the centuries, they're still not blind. They won't approach their princesses if they don't LOOK like they want to talk. And you've been sitting on the throne all this time, looking like the statue of authority. It's about time you got up from your flanks and start MEET them. Also, if you're worried about rumors or anything, I'm pretty sure that if anyone, the Upper class is SURE to be trained in them, and could distinct truth from lie."

Luna looked blank.

"There are rumors about me?" she asked, with a shaky voice...

Celestia's eyes went wide for a split second, and while she resisted a strong urge to facehoof, she gently nudged her sister to a stand.

"You find out, and tell me." she replied "You've caught up on the world quite a lot, Lulu... But it's about time you got to know what's hot. Trust me, they're more than eager to meet you, and be your friends..." she couldn't help but chuckle a bit "...As much as their posh toff status-keeping allows them... But you shouldn't turn away from them! So go on! Have fun! And please, for our ranks' sake, refrain from using the RCV!"

Luna just rolled her eyes, and looked at the crowd. They didn't seem to notice her. So, she took a deep breath...

And with a few, unsteady steps, the Princess of the Night went off to meet the people of the day. It went quite well, actually...
Later, Celestia joined her, too.

"So, how's it going?" she asked. Luna looked giddy with joy.

"Swell." she replied "They're so... Nice! So... Casual."

A pained, disturbed grimace ran trough her muzzle.

"Though I'm kinda inwardly horrified about CERTAIN topics that came up in SOME discussions." she spoke, meekly.

Looking up, she saw the disquiet face of her sister, before noticing the rising flames of anger in her eyes.

"Oh, it's nothing THAT bad!" she added quickly "It's just that... They're a bit OVERLY casual in CERTAIN topics that..." she gulped here, and leaned close to her sister "...Even Nightmare Moon would of considered a taboo."

Celestia was taken aback, before snickering, which turned into a hearty laughter.

"Anyways..." she began, once she stopped laughing "Do you know anything of the visitors? They're a bit late..."

Now, it was Luna who had to urge herself NOT to laugh aloud.

"We-hell..." she replied "My informant said that it'll MIGHT take a bit of time, as they come by rail..."

"Oouuh..." she winced "THAT'LL surely take time."

"Yeah..." Luna muttered. The problems with the rail network were a constantly recurring topic, which both they, and the courts and congresses had procrastinated the BUCK out of.

"But..." Luna added "These visitors might be just what we need!"

"Are they?" Celestia asked, quite a bit surprised.

"Indeed." her sister smiled, before it turned into a smirk "But it's best if you'll see it for your self."

"Yes. Best." Celestia replied simply "ONCE they arrive."

"Once they arrive." Luna repeated, the smirk not leaving her face.

"Wow..." Fluttershy muttered, sitting in Derek's cab "That was... Interesting..."

They've just gotten pass the Royal Guards.

Derek smiled.

"As much as it is good if you're assertive, it's far from enough. You have to be clever as well, you know." and while he couldn't see, he could tell that the yellow pegasus smiled back...

"Keep your social lessons, Derek..." Stuck-Up grunted "We still have to barge our way up to the throne room..." he glanced at Twilight. He would've glanced on Rarity, but he had given her the privilege to travel in HIS cab "You DID prepared your, err, MAGIC, Ms. Sparkle, right?" he asked.

"Why?" the lavender unicorn asked back.

"Because without any doubt, we'll HARDLY fit trough the hallways, LET ALONE the doorways..."

Twilight froze, and stared into the air in front of her, before biting her lower lip, and cringing.

"Aw hay..." she whispered to herself...

By now, Princess Celestia had grown anxious. It was way pass noon, and the visitors have yet to arrived, and the ponies were short on patience. Luna, on the other hand, or hoof, shall I say, was relaxed. A guard had just told her the news. She smiled contently, and, as she saw her sister's nervous fidgeting, he smirked.

"Just you wait..." she thought, as day and a night guard went to the doors.

She suddenly stood up.

"Mares and gentlecolts!" she announced "The visitors have arrived, and now, without further hesitation, let us greet our guests from worlds afar."

The mass cheered, as the guards slowly opened the two wings of the door...

Revealing a perky purple plot.

"What?" one of them asked, bewildered. Twilight Sparkle looked up, turned around... And froze.

There was a long, awkward pause.

Both sides were staring at each other. One in astonishment, the other... Blankly...

After what seemed like an eternity, Princess Celestia shook her head, broking the stare.

"Twilight Sparkle!" she spoke, in a no-nonsense manner "What is the meaning of this?"

The unicorn blinked, and took a step back, her face burning with shame.

"What are you doing here?" the elder princess demanded indignantly "And where are the visitors?"

The tone of her mentor's voice made her cringe, and reverse further, head hanging low.

"Now, now, dear sister..." Luna soothed her "I'm pretty sure that our royal subject, who's also YOUR faithful student, has a verified reason for her intrusion." and with that, she turned to Twilight, who, along with the rest of the guests, stood still in amazement on Luna's daring behavior.

"Besides..." she spoke, purposely whispering loud enough for the crowd to hear "You shouldn't take out your anxiety on those who aren't guilty..."

And while her sister blushed madly, she took the opportunity to speak with the surprised pony in question.

"Tell me, my dear subject, what brought you here..."

Twilight, stuttering a bit, replied:

"E-Excuse m-my intrus-s-sion, your majesty... Majesties! I-I was guiding the visitors, and... Due to their physical structure..." she paused here.

"Well... Go on..." said the Sun Goddess, now in a conciliatory tone.

Twilight thought hard, trying to turn her thoughts into words. This usually happened automatically, but now, she found herself stumbling in her own thoughts.

"It's... It's best if you see them for yourselves" and with that, she walked forward, then turned towards the door.
The princesses exchanged glances, as the whispers filled the crowd.

The purple unicorns horn began to glow in a color similar to her fur, which grew into a humming aura around it.

There was a loud creak...

The door's wings began to shudder, then, much like a carpet being undusted, they began to pulse, waves coming from the middle, going towards the edges...

Suddenly, they both expanded to the side, pushing the frame, which also expanded like a rubber band. It grew wider and wider, until it was as wide as three-track rail line.

With a content smile, Twilight sat down, the light in her eyes going out, and her horn fizzling one last time.

The doors suddenly burst into an armada of bubbles, leaving a wide, gaping entrance at the end of the throne room.

The hall outside seemed unusually dark - another courtesy of the lavender unicorn's magic.

"Is th' coas' clea'?" a deep, Glaswegian voice asked, whispering.

"The coast is toast." Twilight whispered back, smiling.

"Okay. We'e all line' up ou' 'ere." the same voice replied "Giv' us ou' intro!"

"Right." Twilight muttered, before turning around, looking at her rulers with pride.

"Your majesties, mares and gentlecolts... I present you... The Other Railway!" she announced, and began to trot forward.

Behind her, bodies began to move in the shadows beyond the door... And soon, one by one, they came in, rolling across the opening left by the crowd (which grew as they saw their size), in rows of three, before stopping, a line of five engines at the front, and five other at the back, and the last three behind them all.

They were large, they were grand.

They were machines that growled deeply, and left small clouds of dirty smoke lingering behind.

Some were long and streamlined, others were short, and boxy.

They rolled forward, on wheels that fit for rails, seemingly in perfect control of their own movement.

They stopped before the princesses.

Bowler on the very left, next to him was Stuck-up, Diesel in the middle, with Spamcan beside him, and 'Arry at the right. In the second row, Bert was behind 'Arry, Derek stood behind Spamcan, Cromwell was parked behind Diesel, and Pip and Emma behind the two snooty diesels. In the last row was Steamie, the Brakefather, and BoZo.

With slight uproars, clanking, or splutter, the sound of the engines died down.

Silence fell among the crowd.

The princesses just stared at the machines in front of them.

Inanimate objects that were alive?

Trains?

It was nothing Celestia had expected, and, it was also on the very edge of her comprehension.

Luna had already knew they would be locomotives. But these looked NOTHING like the trains they had in Equestria! They were squarish and dirty, and carried a very odd smell - not that of coal, grease or smoke, but something more pungent. The crowd itself was completely speechless...

The mares jumped out from the diesels' cabs, walking up to the front, as Alexei materialized as well.

There was a long pause.

Neither sides said a word, they just stared at each other, for what seemed like hours.

The silence grew heavy.

"Well... This is awkward..." Derek muttered, finally breaking the silence. The crowd suddenly turned into a whispering herd, everybody glancing up and down at the machines before their eyes.

The princesses exchanged glances, as the mares began to fidget, feeling the awkwardness sink in further...

Finally, Diesel could take it no more...

"Oh, for the love of..." he muttered, before taking a deep breath, and:

"Greetings, your majesties! And greetings to all those who've come. Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Diesel, and these here are my... Associates... We've came to your world in peace, as the Other Railway. It is an honor to meet you!" he announced. The noise of agreement and good impression came from the crowd, before Diesel added, muttering angrily:

"There! I've cracked the ice, now lets get this bloody thing over with!"

This seemed to work. The princesses snapped out from their daze, and were quick to reply.

"Well, greetings to you, Diesel! Welcome to Equestria! I hope you'll enjoy your stay here, as long as it will be." Celestia replied kindly.

"Much obliged, your majesty. Especially, since it seems we'll be staying here for quite a while... Basically--..."

He was cut off here by Pinkie Pie, who popped out from beside him, doing her trademark, dramatic "ForEVER!".

Everyone, especially Diesel stared at her with an expression of utter disbelief. Then, shaking it off, as she sunk back from wherever she came from, the jet black shunter continued.

"Yes, forever. So, what we'd like to do is to offer our services to you."

Again, whispers filled the crowd.

The Sun Goddess raised an eyebrow.

"What sort of services do you mean?" she asked, curiously.

Diesel sighed, and rolled his eyes, before continuing, a pained expression on his face.

"PLEASE, princess! It's not that hard to tell!" he moaned. Celestia looked unimpressed.

"Still, PLEASE, explain, Diesel." she replied, mimicking the engine's groan.

Diesel sighed again, and shut his eyes for a moment, his forehead filling with wrinkles, before opening his eyes again.

"Your highness..." he began "As you've probably guessed by our appearance, we are machines, those kinds that work on the rails. In fact, we are a type of locomotives - well, most of us - who work in a certain way. We're called "diesel engines". Stuck-up!" he spoke, looking towards the express engine.

"Right." the latter replied, looking at Rarity, who've noticed this.

"Rarity, my dear..." the engine spoke softly "Please, whip out the charts."

"But of course!" the white mare replied, using her magic to levitate a large parchment sheet above the fleet. It showed the chart of a steam engine, a tender engine, to be specific.

"Now THIS..." Stuck-up continued, speaking in an object-lesson manner - Is a steam locomotive...

And the explanation went on for a good hour, the parchment displaying the three different engine types: steam, diesel and electric.

Finally, the express engine wrapped it up:

"Out of the three, steam engines are the oldest, and most durable kind. They can be over-pressurized and could carry on, even with many malfunctions and damages at the same time. Diesels are... A bit more delicate, shall I say, but on the other hand, if well maintained, they cost less money, and are more cleaner and ecologically friendly - that is, I repeat, if WELL maintained. Electric engines are, by far, the most cleanest of the three, and could be even more powerful and fast - it depends on their design. On the other hand, they're bound to their power source. The Other Railway, and the rest of the companies that are present in this world, contain all three types...

"Actually..." Derek spoke up, catching everyone's attention "We're not as much companies as the actual engines and rolling stock themselves. We are - sort of - refugees. We've escaped from our own world because of the horrid treatment and environment we had to endure.

This statement was only partly true, of course, but was reason enough for the crowd to gasp.

"Allow me to explain." Derek added quickly "We're not the sort of refugees you think of - we aren't escaping from a war or anything -, we just simply left our world behind. I did it because I wanted to visit Equestria. My... Chums did it out of concern towards me. And everybody else beside us did it because we did it. Out of spite towards our controller."

There was a long pause.

"Ummm... Could you explain what you meant?" Luna asked.

Derek looked puzzled, then, after mentally reciting his own words, he realized that he was missing out details.

"Allow me, Derek!" Diesel called out to him with a groan - Ms. Sparkle, if you'd please! - and she levitated ANOTHER parchment, showing the silhouette images of three humans, two mans and a woman.

Diesel sneered.

"Everybody makes mistakes. But certain people are mistakes themselves! As we engines say, there are LOTS of gits in our world, but there's three we hate the most."

"Beeching!" barked BoZo.

"Thatcher!" grumbled Spamcan.

"Blair!" spluttered Bowler.

The ponies were astonished by the human faces - such beings were only a myth in Equestria.

"To sum u' ho' we fe'l 'bout 'em..." Spamcan growled, then rev his engine, faster and faster, until fire blasted out from his exhausts, burning away the parchment, leaving both the crowd, the Princesses, and the Mane Six aghast.

"Poin' is, yer Majesty." 'Arry spoke up "We want t' DO sum'hin' 'bou' ou' li'es 'ere in 'questria, so, we offe' ya wha' we can..."

"Yes, your highness." Stuck-up added "Allow US to get YOUR railway... "Back on track"..."

"Indeed." put in Derek "We may NOT been the best workforce back in our own world, but this world is far more different, and, shall I say, far more better than our old..."

"How so?" the Sun Goddess asked, curious again.

The engines all gave an exasperated sigh. Then, after a deep breath, Cromwell spoke up:

"Well, to be quite honest, your Majesty, our world, especially the part were we live and work - or more like avoid work - with each other - or, again, more likely AGAINST each other - is horrid."

"THAT'S an understatement." Bowler added "Our world is as dirty, cruel, and horribly unfair as a world could be, beyond all expectations in sense of malignity, and probably worse than what you, or every being in this country put together can imagine."

"It is filled with hatred and sorrow, littered with junk, mass famine and splodges of war." Stuck-up croaked.

"TRUST us, pri'sess, i's th' LAS' place ya wou'd wan' t' visi'..." Bert muttered.

"Yes, out ALL the bloody parallels and paradoxes, we just HAVE to have the WORST, most insufferable, soddy little..." Diesel paused "But I digress. We can give you more details about our history, later. Point is, your Majesties, the Other Railway and it's associates are at your service, willing to start over in a whole new world."

"And THAT'S exactly what we need!" the Princess of the Night put it, cheerfully. All eyes were on her.

"Equestria's rail transportation system is in a BAD need of fresh air and development." Luna continued happily "How many locomotives are there?"

"Prob'bly 'bou' an 'nti'e regio's worth." Spamcan replied "An', if my mail go' through, dere's mor' t' com'."

"Splendid!" the Moon princess replied, then glanced to the side, and froze, eyes slightly wider. Celestia noticed her astonishment, and proceeded to follow her look, only the end up with the same awestruck expression.

Every eye of the crowd slowly moved from the sight of the engines, and settled on the figure.

Alexei was in a crossfire of looks.

"Who may you be, dear visitor?" Celestia asked, her surprise audible in her voice.

"I'm Alexei. Just... Simply Alexei." the figure replied calmly "Space lord, uh, time-space continuum engineer, and, ah..." he paused here "Ah yeah, God."

"A god?" the Sun Goddess replied, even more dumbfounded.

"Yes, sister... Did I forgot to mention it?" Luna asked, suddenly worried "He's the God of... What was it?"

"Denial." the Traveler replied sharply "God of Denial."

"Aaand what does that title contain?" Celestia asked, sounding concerned as well.

"...Do I have to tell?" Alexei asked, a pained expression appearing on his face.

"If you'd be so kind as to explain..." Luna added, sounding nonchalant "We'd appreciate it..."

"...It's not nice to talk about it..." the figure replied after a short pause, rubbing one arm with the other, before looking up with a serious expression, as he began to explain.

"As the God of Denial, my job is variable. I'm immortal through incredibly long "lives" and regeneration. I'm also the "descendant" of the first time and space fabricator, created by... Well, the Creator, the one who began the Omniverse, all worlds, dimensions, timelines. My job is to take part in the many timelines, and, usually, become the necessary evil. I'm not into the "evil super villain" or "demon extraordinaire" shtick, but it's duty to take it, to provide a contrast to the goodness of a world, sort of a solid point in reality, someone who provides sobriety in the bliss of an Eden - again, that doesn't means that I'M evil. My roles are, but... But..."

He stopped.

The feeling of sorrow seeped out from his voice like how thick, crude oil flows down in the clean water of the ocean, as he continued. He spoke softly:

"I'm... Always... Alone... The family I have... The friends I make... They pass away... Cease to exist... And eventually, even I, a being who exists beyond time, forgets them... In fact, I ONLY exist. I never had a life... Oh I've done many things, I can, without doubt, say that all the work I did, and all the knowledge I harbour... Provides me with the experience WORTHY to begin my own world... Yet... I never did anything right... Even in my mortal lives...

He fell silent again.

Then, came his uproar!

He flailed out with his arms, gesticulating violently, now furious.

"WITHOUT FAIL, every attempt of mine, every time I chose to live a mortal's life, ended up in an experience that proved that my porpuse is as obscure as the Creator itself. I KNOW the Reason of Life! I can see both good and bad, darkness and light, harmony and chaos, order and liberty, YET, MY existence is ALWAYS proven pointless! For wherever I may roam, whatever time I exist in, whichever side I take, it's always the same: I find no REAL evil, but twisted souls, forced to comply the bidding of the ones most insane or certain. No REAL good, as every word of apology, every honest reply, every offer, every share, every submission, every promise, every SENSE of the word "good" is SHALLOW and FAKED! Only applied to avoid consequences one dares not to imagine, no matter how puny they are!

He continued to roar:

"Creation itself becomes tainted, while destruction is praised to no end!"

Then took a deep breath:

"SO WHAT PURPOSE DO I SERVE?! THEY ALL KNEW EVIL BEFORE I EVEN SAW THEM! THEY WERE NONE THE WISER WHEN I LEFT, BUT THEIR WORLD HAD CHANGED FOREVER, FOR THE WORSE! ALL I EVER DID WAS THROW THE FIRST STONE!!!"

The crowd was silent. Never so silent before, aghast at the immense, fierce emotions that now crashed around in the throne room, thrashing around within them - shock and dread, anger, sadness, forced indifference, throe, anguish, and pure terror.

The engines remained quiet, their glances falling from the Traveler, unable to see, hear, think, or feel. Just emptiness.

The words sunk in like corpses into tar.

Princess Celestia was in a trance of some sort. While her physical body still looked focused, her astral body was trying to handle the emotions she had been flooded with. For an immortal being, she still had a soul, and, most importantly, her heart was in place.

Through the long years of her own existence, there was ONE thing she never experienced, never HAD to experience, and that was Fatelessness. Now, her mind was drowned in the vibes of sight, sense and feel the foreign deity had to deal with for so many eons.

Hunted, accursed, tortured, twisted.

She hoped that another being like she and her sister... Or Discord, for that matter, would be a good companion, someone she could relate to, who shared the same pressure and weight she had to endure - now, it seemed that Alexei was more than what she bargained for: if her, or Luna's life was difficult, the God of Denial's must have been a never ending tragedy. Worse still, she could TELL he never grew accustomed to his role, his "job" as such deity.

'Wherever I may roam', he said.

And that's all he did. Roam.

Forever.

The princess became self-aware again, the veil lifted from her mind. She knew what to do, AND she knew it sounded foalish.
But, the first thing she learned from her foalhood was indeed this exact thing.

She'd had to make this step as soon as possible.

For the good of all of them. Alexei's, especially.

Luna, on the other hand, had much more of a mortal soul - to be honest, it was HER that originally made the first contact with the mortal ponies in their foalhood, and used to be the more sociable one - while her sister was distant and snooty. What changed her was all the effort she put in her nights that seemed to have gone wasted, Nightmare Moon, and recently, Discord's return.

However, her mortal soul remained. She never felt compassion so great before. She could only stare at the figure.

Alexei's head hung low, a shadow cast over his eyes, now closed, practically invisible on his deep, dark gray skin.

A few large tears dropped, the sound echoing in the large room like the lonely chime of a silver bell.

When he spoke up, his voice sounded bereft. Tired. Ill.

"My existence is senseless and destructive. Everything I create only causes havoc, stagnation and suffering. Yet, that is what I HAVE to do, my role in my own existence is settled."

He paused his voice became to shaky to continue. He grit his teeth, then continued, hoping his whisper was inaudible.

"Sometimes... Sometimes I wish... I had never existed. For all the pain, all the death, all the deadly lesson I've left behind. I'd deserve it, not existing."

He literally uttered the last sentence:

"Death, even the worst kind, would be far too kind for me."

"'Scuse me, Mr. Alexei, but don't think like that..."

The shaky, squeaky voice broke everyone out from the depression lingering around chest level in the room.

All guests looked up, surprised.

The mares glanced back between the engines, while the Princesses proceeded to do the same, but from above.

In the back row, Steamie had decided to speak up. Still sounding sad, but determined, as he continued.

"You have traveled for long ages on end, but now, if I'm correct, you've finally arrived into a world were everything long before predicted that you simply NEVER expected to happen is coming around, and depends on US engines and THESE mares before you, if I'm citing you right. Surely, the last thing you'll need to worry about is being alone. You're a god, which means you have a role, and there's something ENORMOUS that's going to happen here, so beside your role, you'll be training us all as well. There's plenty of time for you to socialize! So, dry those tears up, mister! You're in the world of Sunshine!"

Alexei looked up, and stared at the green tank engine in utter shock, before he smiled warmly, mares and engines alike returning his smile, happy that the sorrow that gripped their very being had dispersed.

"Which reminds me..." Luna replied "Dear sister, the sun should be setting soon, and the moon shall rise. But anyway, it's a brilliant idea you've proposed, my... Dear... Engines..." the Princess of the Night had recently took up the habit of her sister, speaking motherly to her subjects. It was a rare occasion, though, like when she was showing around school foals in the royal castle. However, the proposed idea from Diesel, and Steamie's interruption of the ailing veil thrown upon them by the other deity's revelation had warmed up her heart - but not that much to get before her common sense.

Calling the machines that parked before her "little" would be an insult, she thought. Calling them ponies would be downright ridiculous.

Fortunately for her, her words were just the ones she needed to get the discussion 'back on track'.

"Well... Then we have a deal then, Princess..." Bowler added.

Celestia froze.

"Deal?" she asked.

"Yes. Deal." Cromwell added, a bit too smugly, before an odd outburst from his rear part, that sounded like a belch, blew a parchment in front of the royal sisters, carrying the heavy smell of sulfur and methane.

Lifting it up via magic, Luna quickly skimmed the contract, while her sister listened to the gas-turbine engine's words.

"In short, if you sing that contract, our mutual agreement is set, which we will fulfill from our side with honest, full-hearted hard labor, doing whatever jobs we're ordered to. Clauses are, A, the jobs cannot be humiliating or excruciating in ways that's beyond the strain and juristic recognition of a locomotive, B, we're provided with safe, seasonally heated or cooled shelter, proper maintenance and supplies, fuel..."

"These would NATURALLY be provided." Celestia replied defiantly, successfully hiding her surprise over the many needs of machines made of metal.

"...And one last thing." Cromwell added, stopping.

Luna had finished with the parchment, and placed it down beside her, also looking up.

"Which would be?" Celestia asked.

"Booze."

Not as much as the word, but the unison in which all the engines present said it had truly surprised everyone.

"Beg your pardon?" Luna asked.

"Our work is, above all routines, hard, and often frustrating in one way or another." Old Stuck-up explained.

"Indeed. Something is ALWAYS bound to go wrong." Pip put in.

"So, for all our hard work, including extra hours, we demand no money as payment, but alcohol to get our minds off the daily races." Emma added.

"And that being a bit MORE than Apple cider." BoZo yelled from the back.

"I'll take care of that!" Alexei promised, attracting everyone's attention again.

"...Right..." the Princess of the Day spoke, slightly unsure now. Then she glanced at her sister, who seemed surprisingly confident. With a reassuring smile, she handed the contract to her. Celestia had her doubts. She looked up. Sure, the machines in front of her were odd, sullen and fairly unlikely to actually mean any good...

But, they were honest enough to admit their faultiness, and the world they came from wasn't exactly a sugar-coated dreamland (neither was Equestria, but that was a matter of perspective). Not to mention that, as the grimy engine explained, there were probably enough trains to go around for AT LEAST this province, which would already be enough to stabilize rail traffic in Equestria, as the country's locomotives could be transferred into other regions... Or something...

She REALLY wasn't into bureaucracy...

"Wha'? Ya serious?" Spamcan suddenly spoke up, glancing backwards at his own cab "Okay. I'll tell 'em."

There was the sound of quick, static crackling, like when you turn off an old radio, then the goods engine turned to the princesses.

"Change o' pla's, yer majesties." he said with a serious tone.

"Is there som'hing wrong?" Applejack asked "What was that, anyway?"

"My transceiver." Spamcan replied "We al' 'ave 'em, ya 'no', fo' saf'ty reasons. Anyways, Vac called. 'paren'ly, Oi mis'al'ula'ed ONE thin'."

"Aaand just WHAT may that be?" Rarity asked with a hint of alarm. Stuck-Up, who had been eavesdropping through his own radio, was quick to explain.

"It seems like..." he spoke carefully "That, APPARENTLY, many engines and rolling stock from MANY other countries around our world heard about our actions, and, conjoined in convoys, heading towards this world, willing to get out of their own lives".

"De'e ar' SUR' lo' o' bronies ou' de'e." Bert muttered, then quickly got a bash from 'Arry "OW!"

"Which means..." Derek took the word "That there will be multiple COUNTRIES worth of engines, coaches and trucks to work with!"

Alexei blinked.

"I'll begin installing the necessary equipment immediately!" he spoke loudly, as if replying to an order "The engines will arrive to well-built railway! Or shall I say, railways?" he asked, glancing at the Princesses, before he disappeared with a zap in mid-step.

The crowd, the engines, the mares, and Spike, witnessed the rare and intriguing sight of two alicorn princess deities having their mouth hung open in surprise.

"How did he know?" Luna muttered limply...

"How did he know... What?" Bowler asked. The princesses looked up, still dumbfounded.

"...That it's not only Equestria which needed an upgrade in it's transport system?"

By the next morning, things were all arranged.

Engines, passenger and freight wagons and any self-aware auxiliary equipment kept coming from planet Earth, relentlessly, without any sign of stopping.

Alexei was true to his word - the railways themselves were ready for the wave of new machines, and every country, every province was warned. He arranged the various kinds and types per individual railways - some even got to Eagleland.

Meanwhile, the Royal sisters had held what was the greatest congress in years, discussing the many options at hand - both engines and God left many plans and drafts to "economize" the newly found railways.

In all cases, it started with the withdrawal of the original fleet, and ended with the simple phrase, "Profit!".

Soon enough, everything was in moderate order, in fact, most countries had already began to operate their renewed railways.

In the Canterlot province, not far from the small, humble town of Ponyville, a marshalling yard had been pulled up.

Now most it's shed's berths were filled, it's occupants parked in the open doorways, resting as the sun slowly ascended above the horizon. Six mares sat at their buffers, watching the sunrise as long as their eyes bared the light.

As the dew slowly dried up, a conversation began between them.

"Such a lovely view." Derek commented "Better than our own sunrises, if I may say so."

"Hmph. Well, just what DO you expect from a DEITY'S sunrise, Derek?" Diesel grumbled back.

"Speaking of which, that Alex guy did a wonderful job with the rails!" Bowler added.

"Yes, they're even more comfortable than that of the rail generator's rails." Stuck-up added "I didn't thought that was possible."

"AHEM!" Diesel snapped "Again, we're talking about a GOD'S handy work! What else did you expect?!"

"I guess you enjoy it." Twilight spoke up, mirthfully. The shunter just rolled his eyes.

Doctor Whooves walked up to them.

"I have news." he spoke.

"Ou' wi'h it, doc." Spamcan replied with ease "Wha's goin' on?"

The Doctor cleared his throat.

"Under the direct orders of her majesties, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, and their recently employed Regal Adviser, locomotive number D8, number 40125, 'Sir Alaric E. Electric', number D261, 'Green Liner', number D199, number D8717, 'Paxman', Industrial units 'A' and 'B', HST units number 43200 and 43201, prototype unit GT4, remotorized vintage Class 21, number D6158, S-D prototype unit BZ, Hunslet Austerity 0-6-0ST, unnumbered locomotive, "Steamie", will be based in the Ponyville Engine Depots, to maintain local and regional freight and passenger service between Canterlot, Trottingham, Manehattan, Appleloosa, Forest Green, and any industrial and agricultural sites within the region."

The brown earth pony took a deep breath, as the others slowly comprehended the news.

"Da' mea's STEAMIE will be wor'in' wi'h us!" - Spamcan growled.

"YAY!" the latter named cheered, as the others groaned and rolled their eyes.

"Other engines located here will be number D701, number D1043, 'Western Pathfinder', number D782, number 31120, number D5720." the Doctor continued.

Twilight looked puzzled.

"Strange..." she muttered "I swear I've heard those numbers before. And also, "Western Pathfinder"? That sounds oddly familiar..."

"Of course it does!" Pinkie replied, cheerily "D701 is Rhodders, D1043, or Western Pathfinder is Matthias, D782 is Brock, 31120 is Vac..." she paused here, looking puzzled herself - But I don't know who D5720 is... I can't remember seeing his number...

"Tha's CoBo." Bert answered, before jeering "A' leas', SUM'ONE will be doin' SUM' wor' 'ere."

The other engines agreed.Spike showed up, running up to the sheds.

"Twilight! Twilight!" he cried, flailing his arm.

"Good morning, Spike!" the unicorn called out to him "Slept well?"

"I did!" he replied with a hint of annoyance "Until the Princess woke me up! Look!"

And he handed over a parchment.

"Wha's in i'?" Bert asked.

Twilight cleared her throat, and began to read:

'My dear, faithful student,

After consulting with my sister and Alexei, who's new "role" is to be my Regal Advisor, we've managed to set up the new rail system which we've christened "Equestrian Rail", in respect, and as a legacy of the engines' old workplace. Diesel and the others are now based at the Ponyville Marshalling Yard, where they will perform their new duties.

However, they're not the only ones with new tasks.

Since Equestrian Rail is now in bad need of more trained employees, I'd like to ask you and your friends, including Spike, to report to railmare duty at the local engine sheds, if possible, weekly. Doctor Whooves had taken the responsibility of being the Yard's manager, he'll be giving out your jobs, with Ditzy Doo as his assistant and secretary. Naturally, of course, new engineer-, and workpony training schools and faculties have been opened for the new engines and rolling stock - if I wrote that correctly - but until the railways reaches a satisfying number of employees, we'll have to take slightly drastic measures - thus, the railway is offering free training and payed jobs for university-age mares and colts.

Your case, however, is slightly different.

As Alexei had told you, you and your friends are NOT ONLY the Elements of Harmony, but also, the Elements of Defiance, with your faith apparently sealed to some extent. I would intervene with such fatal circumstances, but these forces are beyond me, I know nothing about them, and Alexei can't help it, either.

But you're not alone in this task: you have your friends, and most importantly, you have your counters, the Elements of Hatred, among the Other Railway engines.

What I really ask you is to try and befriend the engines along with your friends - as your and their elements are capable, and will work together at some crucial point in time - and it's always easier to work with friends than with enemies!

In fact, this may even help you with your studies of friendship - I'm pretty sure the diesels have a worldly experience of companionship, even if not the friendly type.

Also, I'd strongly suggest it to the engines that they KEEP their side of the contract - unless, as Alexei put it, they wish to become paper weight.

And again, naturally, you DON'T. HAVE. To report. What you've learnt about railmareship, especially not weekly - because I haven't the slightest idea about rail industry. Honestly. Don't bother yourself unnecessarily.

Your faithful teacher and friend,
Princess Celestia.

After Twilight finished, the ponies and the engines exchanged surprised looks.

"Well... That settles it, then..." Derek declared calmly.

"WHAT?! RAILMARESHIP?!" Rainbow spluttered "I DON'T HAVE the time to check tickets on a platform! I need to practice! And I have my own job..." she added quickly.

"AHEM!" Applejack snapped "Ya spend most of your time snoozing somewhere! And besides, ya'll only have to do it ONCE a week. No' even EV'RY week if ya can't do it!"

"And, it would be a nice change of pace." Fluttershy added quietly.

"Not to mention that you'll LEARN something that can help you later, for example, if - Celestia forbid! - you wouldn't be able to fly anymore!"

Rainbow's eyes went wide. The Iron twins snickered.

"She's no' wrong, ya 'no'." 'Arry chuckled.

"Also, Applejack always claims that I don't REALLY do real work." Rarity put in. The others WERE surprised, and all glanced at Applejack, who nervously looked around.

"I understand what she means, though. Farming is much more... Physical than making dresses." Rarity added "But being a railmare is different! I believe both precision, routine, and sheer power is required."

"Well, that depends, but you're not wrong." Stuck-up spoke up. Rarity smiled, before casting a content smirk towards the earth pony.

"NOW I'll show you who's hard working, Applejack!"

In response, the orange pony just scratched her head under her hat.

"Gee, Rarity. There's no need for a competition, but I'm glad ya put yerself down into heavy work like this." she smiled before pondering "Also, the Docter said that the engines will help out in any industrial and AGR'CULTURAL sites in the region. And the closest one is Sweet Apple Acres! Hot-diggedy! Applebloom was right!" she cheered.

"WEE! This'll be LOADS of fun!" Pinkie cheered, bouncing around, before she was interrupted by Diesel's sneer.

"Oh-ho-ho! Now hold on! Don't think working on the railway is jolly little party, Pink! It's hard work, with lots of pressure and tediousness! Think you have to guts for it, twerp?!"

Pinkie stopped bouncing, and sat down, pondering. But soon, she rose up, nice and calm, and replied to the jet black engine as so:

"That may, Diesel, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it." she declared, before continuing, cheerily "A bit of maturing won't hurt, anyway."

And she trotted off towards Steamie and BoZo, quickly switching back into bouncing, eyes closed with a content smile on her face, while the others just stared at her, mouth agape.

After recovering, Diesel spoke up again:

"Guess we'll be seeing each other more then..."

"Seems so..." Spike replied "ut what are we gonna do? I mean, you're not even MADE for ponies!"

"That may be..." Stuck-Up replied thoughtfully "But that doesn't means you shouldn't try. For that, and for the good of this new railway, I shall offer MY cab as your sanctuary to study - in other words, your workplace."

The other engines were stunned.

"Gosh..." Emma muttered "That's pretty generous of you, Stuck-up..."

The express engine smiled.

"Weeell, we all have our weak moments, don't we?"

The others chuckled and agreed.

In Canterlot, the guard mount has finally finished, and Princess Luna was getting ready to rest. Before she went to get her Royal Slumber, she checked on her sister - yesternight had been very busy.

"Well, I'm off now. Day-day, Tia!" she spoke, popping her head into the bedroom. She was about to leave, when she noticed that her sister was sitting on the balcony.

And she wasn't alone!

"What are you two doing out here?" she asked, walking out towards the railing.

Alexei looked up, taking his eyes of the landscape.

"Examining our empire." he replied with a smirk.

"Oh?" Luna asked, bemused "OUR empire?"

She huffed.

"As far as I'm concerned, you're NOT co-ruling the country, NOR you are part of the Royal family." she narrowed her eyes at her sister "Isn't that RIGHT, Tiaaa?"

The elder princess chuckled.

"I don't know what you're talking about." she replied "But actually, this IS partly his empire."

"How so?" the Princess of the Night asked, curious all of a sudden.

"Well..." the figure replied with a grin "I'm in control of the railways. Head Director. You might as well call me the Flat Controller."

The Royal sister both had to stifle a snort of laughter.

"W-Why "flat"?" Luna asked, trying hard not to giggle.

"Well, there's this guy whom his engines call the "Fat Controller", cause he IS. And the the current controller of the Other Railway, back in their world, is called Sir Wyatt Fronts - but his engines call him the Thin Git, for obvious reasons."

"Is he that bad?" Celestia asked, amused. Alexei looked glum.

"That grubby weasel-of-a-man would sell his own mother for a bottle of Scotch. He's one of the biggest reasons why the engines are such miserable sods!" he muttered loudly.

"You still haven't answered my question." Luna snickered "HOW is this YOUR empire?"

Alexei smirked once more.

"Look around, and tell me what you see."

Luna proceed so.

The scenery, as usually, was beautiful, even with the added, snaky lines of the many railway tracks - in fact, there were a LOT of them, all across the landscape!

She just stared, mesmerized by the sight - only now did she noticed it: the rails had gave a completely new face to the land.
"These tracks run through the country like blood vessels." Alexei spoke softly "Soon, private companies will begin to rely on it to deliver their freight, and passengers will be drawn to it by the new equipment. All I have to do is keep it ship-shaped and orderly."

His grin grew vicious.

"The economy will be dependent on the rails, and fuel it's profit, so the railways would stay open. And the circle encloses..."

By now, both alicorns had been staring at him with concerned looks, unsure of what to say. The other deity simply turned back to the view, his eyes landing on Ponyville, so tiny in the distance, with the new yard not far from it.

Nictating his eyes, the God could even make out the engines in the shed.

"Yes." he spoke, his voice growing lighter "My little railway."

The princesses exhaled, the moment of insanity had passed.

"Yes..." Celestia agreed. "The Other Railway."

"And our dear subjects are working on it right now." Luna put in.

"Does that makes them "The Other Ponies"?" Alexei asked, jokingly.

The princesses didn't reply. They just chuckled.

END OF PROLOGUE

Episode 10 - Über Hampering

ÜBER HAMPERING

It was (at long last) Summer in the Land of Equestria.

This meant a LOT of things, which I will NOT list up, because I'll have to have my mind clear and sober for when I reach the actual story.

Anyways...

For the railway, summer held countless things: Long-hour work, heatwaves, holidaymakers, vacationing foals, and did I mentioned heatwaves?

Passengers and loads arrived on time, and everything was going like clockwork, despite it all...

But EVERYONE (well, the engines, anyway) was complaining!

"OW! Oh, for God's... FIFTH time I get my buffers burned on one of the trucks!" Diesel growled.

He was growling for several reasons, by the way, one being the heat, the other being the solution to it...

Usually, through the course of this season, most of the engines (ESPECIALLY Derek) overheated at LEAST a couple of times - apart from him...

Despite having a dull, completely black paintjob, which quite literally SOAKED the heat of the sun's rays in, he had never broken down even AT ONCE due to overheating.

However, on the first day of the first heatwave, Twilight collapsed out of his cab, suffering from a sunstroke or ten. This prompted the yard management (Dr. Whooves, basically) to give him a different, lighter color of paint for the time of the heat waves.

As a result, Diesel was painted silver gray all over, and received a cab A.C.. The others teased him relentlessly for this, knowing it very well how he HATED to be repainted, especially 'Arry and Bert, who had been painted yellow all over, including their traction rods, with the back and the front of their cabs (well, those thing stripes on either side of their engine block we could refer too as front) receiving hazard stripes, the livery they wore when they first arrived to the Other Railway, escaping from the saccharine purgatory of Sodor.

Meanwhile, Twilight soon recovered, and found the upgrade a great relief.

The others had been painted over as well, receiving lighter colors (Derek was painted white all over, but he still had to spend most of his time in the repair shed).

The engines were pleased with their new coats, especially Pip and Emma, who were painted InterCity Swallow gray and black with silver gray roofs, and teased Old Stuck-Up (who didn't got his paintjob changed, as it was already lighter than the standard) to no end. Bowler was the other one, being even more smarmy and smug than usual, as he was painted old BR Apple green.

"Well, well, well..." he chuckled now "I thought you shunters were capable to do your work, even in... "Extreme" conditions, like the heated buffers of trucks..."

"Oh, smag of, you aberrant can of paint!" the shunter growled, then eyed up his colleague "Where's your driver candidate, anyway?"

"Not yet present..." Bowler replied, starting to look puzzled "Control said I'll have to wait for... Her to turn up..."

"Huh... Wonder who is she..." BoZo chuffed from the other siding, his chroming he received for the season blinding anyone in sight for hours on end - nothing compared to Bowler's buffers, though...

That afternoon, Old Stuck-Up returned with the early express, feeling exhausted. Coughing, wheezing and spluttering, he reversed into the cool shadows of the carriage works, not even bothering to roll back into his spot in the main sheds.

This caught the others attention, quickly - what caught it even more when a half boiled Rarity staggered out of his cab, calling out for a fitter (Spike, respectively), before collapsing, which made the express engine yell for a medic, before going out with a BANG! and a cloud of smoke!

As it turned out, that little record-breaking with the High-Speed Twins had worn out more than just his bogies (read Episode 4: 'Enterprising Mares' for more info). The Class 40 needed a complete overhaul, which made the other engines worried...

Oh, don't think they were concerned about their "dear friend" - biggest lie of the year THAT would be. They were simply worrying about the increasing workload.

Bowler had to carry the express from then on, whilst some other engine was needed to take HIS passenger trains. Pip and Emma couldn't take another load, they were already carrying as many coaches as possible, all full.

Spamcan vehemently refused to take passengers, and Applejack supported him - neither of them wanted to risk lives, if not others', their own, facing the fact neither of them knew even the basics of passenger duties.

Shunters weren't allowed to take trains, and CoBo was too busy with his own goods runs. Derek, BoZo, and Juggernaut were, of course, out of question, and neither Cromwell, OR the Brakefather would've been able to jump in.

For some mysterious, plot-twisting reason, NONE of the back-up engines at Trottingham Junction were available (then again, it WAS summer, so that was sort of half-expected), which left Dr. Whooves with one option...

He didn't like it...

And he knew the engines wouldn't like it, either...

But there was no other choice.

Later that night, two steam engines arrived from Manehattan, a red LMS Jubilee Class with golden stripes, called Conrad, and a maroon and golden Coronation Class locomotive, Beatrice.

When Stuck-Up heard of his replacement, he was FUMING (despite having his motors removed).

"BEING REPLACED?! BY STEAMIES?! BLEBLEBLEBleblebleble...!" and he scatted into the night.

The others were angry, too.

Having one of their engines (the chief express engine, no less) replaced by a steam locomotive was MOST unpleasant. They didn't mind Beatrice, though. The Class 40 has spoken highly of her, and the others welcomed her warmly... Well, lukewarmly, anyways...

Conrad, on the other hand, gained the dislike of the yard as soon as he arrived.

The red Jubilee Class saw Diesel and Steamie move the last trucks of the day to their respective sidings, and was quick to make himself noticed.

"OI! YOU TWO!" he yelled across the yard. The two engines looked at him with the mixture of disdain (from Diesel's side) and surprise (from Steamie's side).

Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie, their drivers, were also puzzled.

"Who's that?" Pinkie asked.

"Uugh... That's Conrad, one of the replacement engines..." Diesel uttered in a manner like he really wanted to spit "We oughta' watch out for him. He's trouble from what I heard..."

Diesel was right. Conrad was quick to criticize and order them about.

"You! The green puffball!" he shouted at Steamie "Get movin', and put my passenger train together for tomorrow!"

"Can't it wait 'till tomorrow morning?" the tired tank engine asked.

Conrad saw red.

"I SAID "NOW", YOU SMARMY LITTLE GIT!" he roared "I WANT YOU, AND YOUR PINK PUFF DRIVER TO HAUL ASS OVER THOSE SODDY COACHES...!" he shouted, glancing at some nearby carriages "...AND ARRANGE MY PASSENGER TRAIN!"

"But... But... We just finished with..." Pinkie tried, before being hollered down:

"I WANT NONE OF YOUR BULLSHIT! GET MOVIN'!" Conrad roared, and wheeshed scorching hot steam all over the small tank engine.

Coughing and weeping, Steamie and Pinkie rushed off to arrange the big engine's coaches.

Conrad then looked at the other shunter.

And for a short moment, he felt... Confused? Puzzled? Disoriented?

Diesel was giving a patronizing look, filled with disdain, loathing, and utter disrespect. For him, it seemed, Conrad was a hunk of scrap.

However, the big engine soon got over the momentary lapse of reason, and, even more infuriated, he began to roar at the Class 08.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOIN', JUST PARKING THERE! GET OUTTA' MY SIGHT, YOU SLIMY GIT!"

Diesel didn't move or even reply. But he looked even more unimpressed.

The tender engine lost whatever little patience he had.

"I'M TALKIN' TO YOU, YA BLACK, SMIRCH-COATED GREASEBALL! PISS OFF!"

The shunter finally seemed to react, as he took a deep breath, and...

"No."

A vein became visible on Conrad's forehead.

"WHAT?!"

"Are you deaf or retarded or something?" Diesel grunted "This is OUR yard, not yours, you egocentric cunt. You don't just go around, ordering us about like we were your slaves. YOU stay put where you are, WE arrange your trains IF we have the time and IF we FEEL like it, and you take 'em, being grateful that we didn't tore you apart in your sleep and fed you to the shredder. Capiche?"

The red engine was speechless, his mouth agape and quivering, as his blood-shot eyes twitched, locked in a glare of disbelief and fury.

"We know you, Conrad." Twilight spoke up coldly, leaning out of Diesel's cab "You're just a self-centered, pompous, xenophobe git obsessed with keeping your own yard "pure", being the superioritist twat you are. Full of hot air, but with NO content, whatsoever..."

Diesel began to roll away, blowing a cloud of thick black exhaust fumes into the engine's face.

"You have been warned, steamie. This is our yard, an' YOU don't make orders. Appreciate what you get, or FUCK OFF!" the shunter growled, and reversed to the sheds, where the others have been waiting, having witnessed the whole thing, but out of earshot.

Later, when both Diesel and Steamie were already in their berths, chatting with the others after their drivers have left, they heard the sound of hissing...

Out of the shadows came Beatrice and Conrad, the latter tailgating the former and cutting in front of her on the turntable. He took the longer turn around, eyeing up all the other engines sternly, before reversing into Old Stuck-Up's berth, with Beatrice following him quietly, parking into another empty siding ('Arry and Bert have moved onto one siding to make place for an extra engine, and the shed has fifteen places... Wait, does that ad up? Whatever...).

No sooner than he hissed to stop, he didn't even waited for his crew to leave before he began to banter.

"Look at you all!" he wheeshed "Distorted oil drums, that's all what you are, hogging up this shed that was made for steam engines!"

The diesels glowered.

"Hmph. Doesn't matter, though!" he sneered "Soon enough, Manehattan's service will prove to be more useful and take over the region. THEN this yard will be ours, and all of these frauds will be turned into what they are: generators on wheels!"

He gave a dark chuckle.

Had he said any more, the diesels would of killed him then and there, just like that.

Trust me, they would've been capable of it.

But then, Beatrice called out to him.

"Oh, shut the Hell up, Conrad!" she scoffed "These engines have been working hard through rain, snow, wind and the blazing sun for decades! You have been rotting in a shed in pieces, and haven't worked a single day in your life before we came here!" she went on, indignantly "Besides, this is a LARGE railway, and I doubt that just ONE region would be able to change the rules, let alone bend them. We ARE overlooked by deities, after all!"

"That may be..." the red engine hissed, though far from impressed "But as soon as they see what us REAL engines could do, they'll think twice about wasting efforts on these fakes!"

"Fakes, huh?" Bowler growled "At LEAST we're not some sort of deformed heater on wheels. You call US frauds when you haven't done CRAP before you even came here! We've worked through our life faithfully, and what did you do? Nothing!"

We all know that the "faithful" part was the lie of the century, right?

Anyway, Conrad only smiled...

"Hmph... Seems the tables have turned, oil drums. WE steam engines have ALWAYS been the more reliable ones, NO MATTER our age or the scale of our malfunction!" he smirked "Now I'M the new deal, and you're the scraplings!"

The diesels exchanged looks over this confusing remark, but Diesel, 'Arry and Bert seemed to understand it, and we're infuriated!

"Scrapling!? WHY, you sordid little prick!" the jet black shunter growled "You were put together from salvaged parts cannibalized from scrapped steamies trough'bout Britain, and you call US scraplings?! No wonder why lot were all withdrawn: with MENIAL efficiency compared to the TONS of fuel you consume, precious water wasted away, and with your INSUFFERABLE arrogance and stubbornness."

"Ya call yersel'es "su'vivo's"..." Bert muttered "Bu' in reali'y, yer th' fu'kin' livin' dead!"

"Ya oughta' be prayin' tha' ya won' find yerself burried in SHI' a' th' smel'e's!" - 'Arry added.

"How vulgar!" Conrad puffed.

"Just shut up!" Beatrice snapped at him, as she (and the others) finally submitted to their tiredness...

The next week passed, and Conrad's presence was getting increasingly unbearable for everyone, but, sadly, as expected from such an arrogant and antagonizing git, he did his work excellently, and none of the passengers complained.

They did took notice of the engine's unruly behavior towards his colleagues, which they mentioned to the stationmaster each case they became eyewitnesses of it.

And THAT wasn't a few:

He constantly argued with the big diesels (Bowler, Old Stuck-Up, Spamcan and Cromwell), insulted the older ones (the Brakefather, Juggernaut (though the old timer rarely took notice any of it, as he rarely took notice of anything, anyways), and BoZo), and was lashing out on Derek and High-Speed Twins more and more vehemently. Beatrice tried to stop him at times, but she wasn't able to be around for too long most of the time.

Diesel and the Iron Twins found it increasingly difficult to NOT to tear the tender engine apart. However, they draw the line when, after a long banter, the red Jubilee brought Emma, AND Pip down to tears.

To put it shortly, he was put in his place, stuck in the yard with bashed buffers and a cracked cylinder, hid out of sight behind old vans, with an enormous stripe of duct tape covering his mouth (along with several gashes and bruises on his face, and two black eyes).

When he was discovered, Dr. Whooves said nothing. He knew it all.

Conrad was repaired, and a quite... Liberally composed (in formal terms, that is) report was sent to Manehattan, with a vocabulary that would of made even the most foul-mouthed carriage-towing stallion weep in shock and dismay.

Finally, next Sunday came, and the mares returned.

They had all heard about Conrad's behavior, and, after having grown used to the Other Railway's attitude, they decided NOT to act. Some friendships were simply not worth to be tried to made.

On that day, Spamcan and Applejack were returning from the Canterlot/Phillydelphia province borders, after having worked through the whole day there, assisting heavy industrial contracts. For the diesel, it was a good workout, but for the applefarmer, it was a bore. Both were glad to be on their way home, even if it meant putting up with the chivying of the wretched Jubilee Class.

But, after such a long day, they couldn't care less...

On their way home, they had to stop for a red signal.

D199 sighed, trying not to inhale the smokescreen he left behind, thanks to his clagging, as he was travelling arse, I mean, faceless cab first. Looking to the side, he saw Conrad stuck on the sideline near the signalbox. The cylinder that he had "managed to crack" a few days before could only be fixed hastily, and it was obvious that the problem may resurface later, perhaps grow worse.

And, as predicted, it did.

The tender engine had blown his cylinder, and, although he was only carrying a train of empty coaches, he refused to move out of "fatal malfunction". and shrieked for a fitter every five minutes, until his already frustrated-to-frenzy crew told him to either shut up or blow up, which silenced him quickly... For the moment...

Spamcan grinned...

"Oi! Loo' a' tha', A.J.!" he chuckled "Seems li'e Ol' Reliable go' boo-boos... Oh well, nu'hin' will stop 'im, he's STEAM after all!"

"Ah woul'n't be so sure, Sugahcab!" the mare snickered "He looks ready to be scrapped fer me!"

Conrad seethed with fury, when the signalcolt ran out from his box, looking angry as well.

"For Luna's sake, take this hunk of steaming scrap metal out of my sight! The Freighter is due, and he's hogging up the line, the lazy git!"

"STEAMING SCRAP METAL?! LAZY GIT?! Why, the nerve...!"

"STOW IT!" the colt bellowed "Or I'll ask the Iron Twins to take care of your "fatal malfunctions" personally!"

Conrad quivered and shut up to this death wish.

The colt then turned to Applejack.

"Could you move this oversized kettle out of the way? He refuses to move on his own!"

"We'll see what we cun do." the mare replied. Spamcan rolled onto Conrad's line and buffered up to him...

But as he was being coupled up, Conrad was plotting against him (as expected).

"Rescued by a DIESEL! No, I will NOT tolerate this disgrace!" he thought, and quickly figured out just what to do...

He still had some steam left in his pipes...

So when the Class 46 coupled up, he let out a great big WHEEEEEEEEEEESH!!!

Spamcan was covered from buffer to buffer, and from wheel to roof, in a thick cloud of steam. What's worse, as he tried to free himself from the miasma, the vapor leaked through his ventilation grills and air-intakes.

As the miniature fog cleared, all that was revealed was a drenched and pissed goods engine and an equally wet and irate mare.

"Why you li'e twa'!" the diesel swore.

Suddenly, there came a BANG!

A thick cloud of black smoke blasted out from Spamcan's exhausts, and his motor began to cough and splutter, light gray, translucent smoke pouring out from his vents...

"*Cough!* No' I kno' how Derek feels!" he wheezed, as his engine clattered to a halt.

Applejack jumped out from the driver's seat, and tore the door to the engine room open... Smog poured into the cab like a flood!

She quickly opened the cab door now, and jumped for her health!

She landed, on all fours, coughing madly as well, as the smoke cleared away...

Trough the thick plumes carbon-monoxide and soot, they could hear... Cackling?

Now, make a guess who did that?
Got it?

. . . .

Good. No surprises for the next part, then.

Conrad laughed evilly as the diesel broke down.

"If I have to go, I'm taking YOU with me!"

Needless to say, a certain cowmare was cross. She walked up to the smoke box of the engine.

"Just WHAT the Hay were ya thinkin', blowin' out steam like that?!" she snapped at him "Now we're stuck AS WELL! Ya're still blockin' the line, an Ah can't move ya!"

"Exactly what I wanted!" the tender engine declared indignantly "I'm NOT going to be put on parade by that smog tank, an' I'm NOT moving!"

Applejack lost whatever patience she had left.

"Well, consarn it! The Bloomin' Hay is wrong with ya, ya oversized radiator?! Ye're causin' delays, an' giv' this here railway a bad name! CAN' ya think of anypo-... AnyONE else than yahself?! For Celestia's sake, ya also signed that contract! Ya HAV' to work, like any other engine!"

The Jubilee snorted.

"Phuah! What's it to YOU, horse?! I never agreed with THAT contract, it was those pathetic diesels you work with! More importanly, I never agreed to COME into this pathetic world of yours, NOR did I agreed to serve your little Princess! AND, if you think a little pastel colored nag like YOU is going to change my mind, then you have another thing comin'!"

The mare felt the ire rise up in her veins, but kept her cool...

Her answer was short and simple:

A quick, strong buck in the nose!

"OW! Son of A--!!"

"Yah cun continue that sent'nce, watertube, an' yah'll find yahself very dazed an' sa'prised on th' Cuben islands!"

Conrad shut up after hearing that awful threat.

A.J. walked back up to Spamcan.

"Well, we got Ol' Reliable to be quiet fo' th' moment, bu' what 'bout ya?"

The diesel thought for a moment...

"I' doesn' seem li'e any smar' ideas woul' help a' th' moment..."

"So?" the mare asked.

"We'll jus' hav' to use bru'e force..."

She nodded, and climbed back inside the cab, starting D199 engine once more.

The motor coughed and sputtered, black smoke rising from the exhausts, as it tried to get rid itself of the water inside of it...

Another BANG! echoed through the air, as the motor spew out a thick cloud of wet smog, which quickly fell back, covering Spamcan's already splodged body.

Like the others, he was repainted as well, but in a different manner:

Through the course of one afternoon, the Apple family decided to give "their" faithfully working engine some new paint... But it turned out that they've miscalculated the amount required to paint him over (it wasn't Big Mac who did the math, after all), so in the end, they could only paint out all the graffiti and tagging on him. Sadly, the color wasn't exactly right, which left him with darker blue blots on his sides... He didn't mind though, well, not much, anyways...

As a matter of fact, he was getting used to working... Well, working in general, but also, he was getting used to life in the land of Equestria... He wouldn't admit it, but he had... Began to enjoy his stay, even if he had to work. The ponies were nicer than the humans, lived a life far more simple and sober than his creators, and even the air was cleaner - something which he, as a city-running and heavy industry-used engine, felt alien at first.

However, he now rumbled proud and strong, as his motors took in the fresh air, like deep breath...

"Tha' bac'fi'e clean'd ou' my exhaus' pipes!" he exclaimed "I thin' I can do this!"

Applejack wasn't convinced, but trusted the engine - her engine - enough.

"If ya say so, Sugahcab..."

The diesel smiled, and, revving loudly, he reversed a bit, bashing into Conrad's buffers for good measure, then, with a heavy tug, took him off from the sideline, onto a siding near by.

The next train soon passed, with Beatrice chuffing in front, puffing hardly, a train of shiny, chromed oil tankers clattering behind. There was something peculiar about the train, though...

She was visibly having trouble keeping the pace, and soon enough, she wheeshed to a halt. The signalman anxiously walked over to the cab, and exchanged words with the driver and firemare.

He returned with bad news, looking desperate.

"This is not good! That steam engine's brakes aren't working properly! The train's fine, thanks to her injector, but her brakes are jammed."

He then looked exceptionally at the engine.

"Could you...?"

Applejack had heard it all, and leaned out of the cab to reply:

"Oh no we don't! We were just headin' home, an' Ah've alre'dy overtaxed Spamcan with that "throat-clearin'"!"

"I can do i'..." the Class 46 spoke up.

"See? Give th' poor devil some... What?" the mare was perplexed.

"If i's her brakes, all i' nee's is a good biff." Spamcan explained "She can pull afterwards."

"Ah see..." A.J. replied, thinking "Bu' still, movin' TWO slumped steamies AN' their train... Ah don' know, sugz..."

"Leave i' to me!" the goods engine smirked. A.J. shrugged, and got back into the cab.

Rattling as he pushed Conrad's train back on the line, Spamcan eyed up the train in front of him, the chromed tankers nearly blinding him with their reflection of the sun (STILL nowhere near Bowler's buffers).

As they buffered up to the back of the train, they could already see the driver and the firemare walking down towards them, the former turning out to be a hippogriff.

"How come there's no brakevan?" the apple farmer asked.

"These trucks don't need it." the firemare explained, checking a clipboard "A good thing Beatrice has an injector, otherwise, we'd be completely stranded."

"Where ya'll be headin'?"

"To Canterlot, special deliver for Princess Celestia herself!" the driver announced proudly.

"What would tha' be then, if ya don' mind me askin'?" AJ asked. The hippogriff and the mare exchanged looks, then simply showed the clipboard to her.

After reading it, the cowpony felt blood rush into his cheeks...

"Weeeell..." she uttered "Whatever suits her fancy..."

Soon enough, the trains were set.

Spamcan roared his engine, and gave the rear truck a great biff!

The jolt ran down the train, growing stronger and stronger, until it hit the Coronation Class with such a force it knocked it's brakes free, and thus, she could continue her journey. Spamcan trundled right behind him, with Conrad sulking and moaning at the end, his coaches clattering and mocking him.

The strange cavalcade made it's way up the hills towards Canterlot, with the diesel pushing the tender engine's train, to avoid snapping a coupling after they've been put through such harsh treating with that biff.

Finally, they arrived the Canterlot Freight Terminal, Beatrice stopping on one siding, and Spamcan next to her, with Conrad creaking behind him, the sudden stop bashing the coaches into his tender.

The two engines at the front sighed. The long journey was over.

Princess Celestia, who wanted to make sure her load arrives safely, had discreetly made her way to the platform... Only to find D199 and Applejack there, to her deepest surprise...

She was quick to cover up, though...

"Oh! My dear friends!" she smiled "What brings you here?"

"A super rescue." the diesel smirked.

"A what?" the Princess asked, taking a good look on the trains, slowly realizing "Ah, I see... Well, I'd like to congratulate you then for your tiring efforts at bringing these trains to their destination."

"Eh, i' wasn't jus' us, Beatrice helped as well!" Spamcan smiled, and the maroon engine beamed back at him. Applejack, however, wasn't as pleased, as she pointed a hoof at the red engine behind the diesel.

"Bu' this 'ere steam engine is a consarned nuisance! He won' obey even his driver or firecolt, an' he had given us, an' th' other diesels a hard time through th' whole week!"

The Chairmare merely nodded.

"I'll write my reports later!"

Beatrice then went off to get her brakes looked at, towing the still groaning Conrad. It was then when A.J. suddenly asked.

"By th' way Princess... Erm... It's none of mah business, but..."

"Why do ya nee' sev'ral thousan' gallons o' Lube?" Spamcan cut to the point, not wanting to dither about all day.

The Princess' cheeks got into a nice, red shade, as she stuttered:

"W-Well, you see..."

"Never mind!" the cowmare quickly spoke up, climbing back into his engine - she could feel the ground heating up beneath her hooves, and saw it was best they leave.

Arriving home, the two were met with a raging applause. Beatrice also returned, and was welcomed as well, as they saw she was different than her colleague.

Conrad, however, was sent home in disgrace as soon as he was repaired. He slipped out of Canterlot in the black of the night, and made his way home. But unlike the small Ponyville Marshalling Yard he passed (uttering curses under his breath), Manehattan Central was still wide awake. The others wasted no time to tease and berate him for his behavior, especially Euston, the green LMS Patriot Class engine.

Bitterly, the engine decided to sleep away from the main sheds, and found the comfort of loneliness in an older goods shed.

He condemned them all, his colleagues, the diesels, AND the Princesses. However, grown tired by his long journey to home, he drifted off into sleep...

He woke up, a few hours later, to a deep rumble...

It was cold, in the middle of the night... In the light of the few yard lamps were still lit, the tender engine could barely make out the shape beside him... And groaned, when he figured out it was a diesel.

"They sure made a fool out of you, those engines..." it stated on a low, cold voice... Conrad merely rolled his eyes.

"Big deal! What's your business, anyway?!" he hissed.

"Oh, nothing..." the diesel said, with a smirk in his voice "I merely wanted to make an offer..."

The Jubilee fell silent.

"...What sort of offer?" he asked slowly...

The diesel chuckled.

"The sort you'll like..." it muttered "For your help, I'll make sure you'll have revenge on ALL of those who made you suffer."

"All..." uttered Conrad, the thought making him feel very content, but also sending down a shiver through his joints...

"And for this... What do I have to do?" he asked, cautiously. He could practically feel his dark companion smirk.

"Stand by my side..." said the other, his voice slowly becoming that of a living person's, rather than a owner-less, silent scream in the night "Soon, I'll have this world under my buffers. The ponies have no clue about is engines, and what the humans wouldn't allow us, they don't even consider denying from us. Join me, and vengeance will be yours, moreover, those who mocked you will be your's to desire with!"

The red engine pondered. His golden stripes weakly reflected the silvery light of Luna's moon.

Conrad was an aggressive, vehement engine, with notable willpower, and knew himself very well, aside all euphemism. But he was also a sensible sort, his many parts, truly taken from many other engines in order to build him, had carried smaller, simpler crumbles of wisdom. To cut it short, he was no fool. The equine society was FAR better than the human one, even if ridiculously utopic and detestably right. He especially hated it because he liked it, despite it's members not being the one who built him, OR any of his class.

But he also hated the humans for naming him after a religious figure, when he was quite openly against any sort of higher power (and was also a technocrat, having faith in electric engines, while also openly hating diesels with the kind of racial hatred familiar, yet unknown to mankind). As a matter of fact, he hated humans for many reasons, while he hated ponies for only one. Thus, the scale worked in favor of the equines. This diesel beside him HAD a notable aura of power around him, but the very nature of this power and this diesel made him shudder in fear inwardly. No. He rather rivalize with Devious Diesel and his gang, than to work with THIS one diesel. Besides, he had a prestige to uphold - the Yard's.

"...And if I don't agree?" he asked in a manner that couldn't be misunderstood.

"...Suit yourself." the other engine replied simply and coldly, rumbling out from the goods shed.

In the moonlight, Conrad could make out the shape of a diesel-hydraulic, and, thanks to a yard lamp, the golden nameplate on the side of the engine was also readable.

He felt the water inside his tanks turn into ice, as glacial horripilation pulsed through his entire being.

He decided, then and there, that he'll believe in the supposed deities that run this railway, this country, this world.

As soon as possible, he'll have to warn the engines of the Ponyville Marshalling Yard, sooner before he could act. He couldn't tell anyone, though... It'll only cause panic...

He suddenly remembered a mantra, which the workmen muttered to their selves on cold, scary nights, when they worked on him.

Shall you fall
from wall to wall,
and loose control over all;
Still, never light fire to tar,
Rather spend the night at the bar,
And stay out of the sight
Of the lights
Of the Western Star.

List of Characters

OK, so first off, here's Diesel...

He's a scheming, devious bastard and utter slacker who used to deal with yard work (shunting, mainly) and small deliveries up and down the Other Railway.

A nasty little engine with six undersized wheels, a short, stumpy cab, a short, stumpy body, and a short, stumpy temper - one of the first engines ever designed by British Rail (which explains the horrid clanking noise he's been making since '85).

Unceremonious star and mascot of the Other Railway, a region of British Rail, Britain's former nationalized railway company, before it's privatisation in 1996. After the aforementioned event, the title "Other Railway", which previously belonged to the Mainland railway network, was attached to a that crummy, underfunded private-owned railway in Barrow-in-Furness, officially know as the Barrow Regional Transit. Yeah, so, that's the Other Railway. Where Diesel and his... Colleagues reside.

He hates love, joy, and steamies. Loves a certain diesel railcar from his Playtrain™ magazines.

If the Other Railway can be considered an Anti-Sodor, then the diesels (henceforth "Diesel Depot") are the Anti-Steam Team. So, basically, Diesel is the Anti-Thomas (although one could also consider him to be the Anti-Duck).

He's based on a British Rail Class 08 shunting diesel:

His driver is Twilight Sparkle:

Diesel's most tolerable colleague and drinking mate is Spamcan, A.K.A. D199:

The gruff goods engine of the Other Railway, Spamcan is the all-around macho, working class bugger.

He became such after a humiliation at the buffers of a Sodor steamie (Henry). After coming home, he decided to toughen up, and haven't stopped since - he never shaves or has wash-downs (partly to avoid being confused with Old Stuck-Up (whom he hates with burning proletarian passion), partly because he revels in filth, but mostly to piss off Bowler). Along with Diesel, he has been one of the main power sources of protesters back in the '80s, during the second Thatcher government. He did it for the workers and paupers, Diesel did it for his own political views (anarchism). For both of them, this was a passing phase.

Loves a good scrap, but especially a good scrapping.

You can consider him as the Anti-James of the Anti-Steam Team ("Diesel Depot")

He's based on a British Rail Class 46:

His driver is Apple Jacqueline (A.K.A. Applejack):

The (self-claimed) most important engine of the railway is Sir Alaric English Electric (knighthood bought during the "Cash-for-Honours" scandal, much like his controller's), also know as Old Stuck-Up (number: 40125):

The local Upperclass Twit-of-the-Year for twenty years running (the exact amount of years he hasn't been on time with his trains), Old Stuck-Up is the very definition of narcissism. Pretentious, arrogant, posh beyond any reason (the type of supremacist "modern posh" we see so much in shows parodying politicians, eg: Spitting Image), he's as tolerable as having a large piece of candy wagged in front of your eyes, when you've been starving for months, only to have your heckler lubricate it by pissing all over it, and then jam it up your bumhole.

Loves money, himself, oil, himself, baiting paupers, and himself.

He is the Anti(?)-Gordon - he pulls the express (when and if he wants to)

His driver is Rarity Belle (also known as Rarity Unicorn):

Another well-know figure of the O.R. is Bowler (A.K.A. D4711, A.K.A. D261, A.K.A. "that picky tosser"):

A selfish, hypochondriac neat-freak, Bowler is equal parts posh toff and paranoid twat, caring about nothing more than remaining clean and making sure his colleagues are clean as well (so as not to besmirch him). He's an uppity passenger engine, by the way, second-in-command behind Stuck-Up in the express engine department.

Phobias include germs, dust, smoke, rust, children, the Sewage Train, stamps...

He's the Anti-Henry of the Diesel Depot.

Both him, and Old Stuck-Up are based on British Rail Class 40 diesel-electric engines:

His driver is Beatrix Lulamoon (stagename: The Great and Powerful Trixie):

The engines who comes closest to being Diesel's friend is Derek (formerly: Paxman):

Derek is the white sheep of the Other Railway clan: kind, honest, loyal, generous, cheery and industrious. Pity he's an utter whimp, thanks this horrid motor design. His cooling system is the worst ever to be designer by sober(!), sound human minds. Nevertheless, he keeps up his friendly attitude, always there to show a wheel when he's needed (and when he's not broken down due to overheating). Derek is one of the two bronies among the Other Railway diesels (the other being Bert, see below). Has a loud horn (VERY loud) and a huge nose. I mean, seriously, look at it! It's a freaking beachball with nostrils!

He absolutely loves winter.

Due to his meek, but knowledgeful (is that even a word? Nevermind, it IS now!) nature, he can be seen as the Anti-Percy.

Derek's based on the ill-fated British Rail Class 17 mix-traffic diesel engines:

His driver is Fluttershy, and his fitter is Angel Bunny:

Two actually important (and actually useful) members of the Other Railway are Pip (Philippa) and Emma:

Pip and Emma are twin InterCity 125 units, together (and with a few coaches) they form a full InterCity set. They are invaluable members of the Other Railway, as their rapid commuter trains are the only ones that are actually on time, and provide a decent service. Pip, the leader, is the more serious, sensible one, while Emma is the cutesy-poo, ditzy one. Their former controller (Sir Wyatt Fronts, A.K.A. the Thin Git) acquired them from a nearby mall to avoid a "Sexism in workplace" lawsuit from the local council (he calls them Candy and Sugar). Being the only female engines on the railway, they had held their own, and proven to be more than capable of standing up for themselves (and the railway, for that matter).

They're twins, but it's easy to tell them apart: Emma wears red lipstick, while Pip has blue eyeshadows put on (not visible on their picture)

Given their welsh(ish) accent and earnest, but still feminine nature, they can be considered as the Anti-Donald and Anti-Douglas.

They're both based on British Rail Class 43-II express diesel engines, the fastest diesels in the world:

Their drivers are Cloudchaser and Flitter:

A ~~haunting nightmare~~ common visitor and now resident of the railway is Steamie:

No image available!

Steamie is, what his name describes him: a fluorescent green tank engine with six, white-rimmed small wheels, a short, stumpy cab, a short, stumpy boiler, a short stumpy funnel, ~~and a short, stumpy cock~~.

He's a cheery, sickeningly sweet engine who never ceases to smile - ever. Originally brought to the railway to learn (as part of a deal the Thin Git made with the local workshops), he was taught a hard lesson about life by his unceremonious mentor, Diesel (who else?). Unfortunately, this turned him into a bipolar, giggling, scheming little lunatic - his mental condition have been declining ever since, and by now, he lives in an almost constant, near-psychotic level of euphoria.

Loves sharks - they have such BIIIIIIG smiles! :)

He can be considered the Anti-Diesel, given his nature and the fact that he's a steam engine, but he's usually filed as being the "Anti-Duck".

He's based on a Hunslet Austerity 0-6-0ST saddle tank locomotive:

(this is also the most accurate representation of his description)

His driver and fireman (firemare) is (for the moment) Pinkamena Diane Pie (also known as Pinkie Pie):

'Arry & Bert are also known (notorious) members of the gang:

Two thuggish diesel shunters, usually found working in scrapyards, quarries, harbours, foundries, building sites, the Smelters, or in the yards, under Diesel's command. What can be said about them? 'Arry is the more aggressive, Bert is the more stupid. Both are incredibly thick and have a distinct dark humor that unnerves just about anyone. Twins, much like Pip and Emma, and thus, stick together.

Their full names: Iron 'Arry and Iron Bert - don't ask me why their names are in the Hungarian/Japanese name order.

Their family motto: Swots and steamies spoil schemies.

They are basically the Anti-Bill and Anti-Ben of the Diesel Depot, coming up second behind Pip and Emma in the role of the Anti-Donald and Anti-Douglas (of course, they are courteous enough to let the ladies forward - they later explained).

Like Diesel, they're also based on British Rail Class 08 shunters (albeit less boxy than Diesel).

Their (for the moment) lone driver and fitter in one person is Rainbow Dash:

Cromwell is another engine who's image we don't have, only his basis' (well, his basis' model's):

Built on a drunken whim, Cromwell is surprisingly reliable gas-turbine express engine, who's his unusual appearance brought big dough for the Thin Git. He's aloof, standoffish and slightly neurotic, with large, round, ugly glasses. His tende (named Mr. Bottomsly) has a human-head sized cast-iron top hat welded to it's... Top, and has a mind of it's own (and less control over his bowels than a cow after nibbling on expired laxatives) - he's apparently quite the ladies man. Somehow. Used to be a sleeper agent that tried to return Cromwell to Sodor, from where 'Arry & Bert have rescued him.

Cromwell is an expert at pranks; His speciality is the evergreen "Pull my buffer" trick.

He's Anti-Oliver of the Diesel Depot, considering the nature of his acquirement.

Based on the experimental GT3 gas-turbine locomotive.

He has no secure driver at this point.

BoZo is another weird one:

(a brilliant illustration by TheAusterityEngine from DeviantArt - and also the only one)

An unique model in locomotive design or a horrible abomination of enginekind - BoZo is either and neither. An usual steam-diesel hybrid, he does his best despite the shabby engineership done on him. Aged, but not old, loud, and enjoys it. He has more holes than a WAG's head, The only steamie (of sorts) ever to receive the respect of the whole Other Railway.

He is the Anti-BoCo.

Based on the Kitson-Still steam-diesel locomotive:

His unofficial driver is Spike (fitter of all the Other Railway engines):

CoBo is also mentionable:

(he's the middle one in the background, partially behind the tree)

A misanthropic, near-emotionless, asocial works diesel, CoBo does his job silently and diligently. Used to be the local bully to the rest of the Other Railway diesels during the British Rail era, now serves as the main workforce and source of income, as he's the only one who has decent work standards (besides Pip and Emma) on the entire railway. He prefers to stay in the background until he has another reason to do so.

Actually, I thin he's the Anti-Duck, as he cares for his work, but has little to no social skills.

Based on the British Rail Class 29 diesels:

His driver is Gilda:

And finally, the Breakfather:

No image available!

Once the head honcho of the Other Railway clan, he met his ultimate demise at the oil refinery, when his driver took that exact moment to take up his habit of smoking. One explosion and a hasty rebuilt later, he found himself turned into a rickety brakevan, and has since then served as a conduit between the engines and the trucks. Before coming to Equestria, 'Arry and Bert supplied him with a 18-cylinder two-stroke diesel engine, "donated" from a Russian echange diesel ("Wha'?! 'E alre'y 'ad thee o' 'em!"). Nowadays, he takes it easy, pulling local goods trains while the more capable Spamcan takes care of the long distance runs.

In his mind, he's still the undisputed Don of the Yard. In everybody else's he's a senile old dingbat.

He's the Anti-Edward.

He's based on a British Rail Class 21 diesel engine, used for goods (his class brothers and sisters were used mainly for passengers):

And, well, that's all...

No, wait...

Dr. Whooves is the stationmaster, Derpy is his assistant. Celestia is the Chairman (Chairmare) of the railway, Luna is the Director, and my OC Alexei is the Controller. That's all.