Lonesome Whistle

Chapters

Morning Routine
Gallow Drop
A Sickening Crunch
Reunion
Welcome to Ponyville!
Royal Recollections
Alexander & Cecilia
The Rail Gang
Brakes Down
Change of Plans
Reading Up On It
The Rail-Kiosk (A Day with Pinkie)
Test Drive
A Special Coach
Blitz and Sunshine
Santa Fe 1015
Rather Unexpected
Leaking the Truth
A Horrid Mistake
Deported
Forgiving?
Mudhen
The Silverton Train
Der Alptraum (The Nightmare)
Missing You
Cutie Mark Crusader Engineers, Yay! Take 2
Resolution
Triple Departure
Rough Weather
Light in the Dark
Huckleberry
Hell on Wheels
Dark Matters
Recovery
Reunion, Part 2
Reunion, Part 3
Epilogue
"And Now For Something Completely Different..."
Das Begräbnis des Lokführers (The Engineer’s Funeral)

Morning Routine

The early hours of dawn in Ponyville were normally quiet. One could wander through the streets and hear his or her own thinking without being interrupted by anything except the occasional squeaking of a door that hadn’t been closed properly. It was only when one walked by the roundhouse a quarter mile away from the Ponyville depot that audible commotion could be heard. In those early hours of the morning in Ponyville, there were always two noticeable characters shuffling about or making noise within the confines of the roundhouse. One was a Pegasus colt, and the other was his faithful iron steed.

Ironside was shuffling about the roundhouse in an irritated manner. The young colt wore a white button-down shirt which was his standard attire for his job as Equestria’s top express train driver. After all, he would say to himself, a prestigious job requires a formal appearance on the part of the staff. He brushed a few strands of his messy black hair out of his eyes as he searched high and low for his oil can. His alarm clock had gone off ten minutes after it was supposed to, and he was now in a rush to hostel his engine before the day’s journey.

Engine 2398 sat patiently as his engineer galloped around in search of the elusive oil can. The locomotive was the pride of the Equestrian Railways’ fleet. He was a high-drivered 4-4-2 Atlantic with compound cylinders. He was a special type of compound whose high-pressure cylinders were stacked on top of their larger low-pressure companions, with one pair on each side. Their rods connected to the top and bottom of each crosshead, stroking back and forth in tandem. The rationale behind this was that 2398 was simpler to operate than a four-cylinder compound that had four drive rods, four sets of valve gear, and cranked axles. Because his cylinders were paired up, he only needed two drive rods, two sets of valve gear (and two valves for that matter), and no cranked axles.

Despite this, 2398 was a fussy engine mechanically speaking, just like all compound locos. His running gear needed special care in order to run properly. That was why Ironside was fussing over where the can of cylinder oil had gone to. Without it, 2398 would wear down his pistons and cause his compounding system to run amok. Any unbalance in the cylinder pairs’ steam flow could break either one of his crossheads, with disastrous consequences. Ironside loved his engine like a brother, and the engine reciprocated his feelings. It was why he was the only driver allowed to operate 2398. He had read many journals and books on locomotives like his, so he knew how to best handle 2398.

After about seven minutes or so, Ironside finally found the can lying in one of the inspection pits. Holding it in his teeth, he craned his neck in a rather awkward position in an effort to pour the oil into the cylinder casing. He only filled the top cylinder, since the oil would flow with the steam into the lower cylinder once the engine got moving. He had been up for an hour now, letting his engine steam up. But it was only ten minutes ago that he had realized he needed to oil his engine and discovered that the can was MIA. In any case, he hauled himself into the cab and sat down in his chair, exhausted. While he loved running the express, Ironside still couldn’t come to grips with the little rest he could afford.

He heated the set pot in his cab over the firebox for his morning coffee. It was almost vital that he down as much caffeine as medically permissible, since falling asleep behind the throttle was nothing if not a fatal mistake. Ironside knew this would not at all help his sleep deprivation problem, but he really had no choice. His primary concern was always the speedy and safe travel of his passengers, and he was willing to sacrifice his physical health for the good of the people and the railway. He just loved his job (and his engine) that much.

Once 2398 had popped his safety valve, Ironside eased his engine out of the stall and out onto the turntable. The operator spun the table round until the engine faced toward the yard. Ironside cracked the throttle, easing his massive steed off the table. Instead of heading towards the yard, however, he took the track that led toward the depot. There, 2398 would wait while the yard goat shunted the express coaches into place. As the goat assembled the morning express, Ironside chugged his coffee. Now jolted out of his drowsiness, he sat fidgeting in his seat, waiting for the coaches.

Once the coaches were attached to 2398’s tender, all that was left was to admit the passengers to the platform. Not many showed up, but that was no surprise. This was the first train of the day, and many ponies were still fast asleep. It was the 10:30 express that would be packed to the brim. Ironside welcomed the light load, however. It was less stressful getting the passengers on board when the number of them was small. It also meant the train would be ready to depart sooner, and be more likely to depart on time. The coaches were only half-full by the time the doors were banged shut. No other passengers were on the platform. The station clock struck 6:00. The guard blew his whistle, which 2398 responded to with two blasts of his own. Ironside pushed the Johnson bar all the way forward, spun the brake lever into the full release position, and eased back the throttle.

Jets of steam shot out from under the engine’s lower cylinders as the train slowly edged forward. As the engine gathered speed, Ironside pulled back on the drain cock lever, shutting off the steam jets, and activating his engine’s compound system. The loud hisses were now replaced with the sound of rhythmic chuffing from the loco’s slender stack. Ironside smiled whenever he heard that sound. He was in his element now, and life was good. About a half-mile away, however, someone’s life had taken a serious turn for the worse. And as fate would have it, Ironside would become that poor little filly’s light at the end of the tunnel.

Author's Note

I apologize for the technical details of the engine in this opening chapter. I'm a bit of a gearhead.

Gallow Drop

As the morning express slowly pulled out of the station, a young unicorn pony sat under the window of the Cake residence. She watched the fast express pull slowly out of the station, gathering speed as it went. If only I had the money for a one-way ticket, she thought, I could get myself out of this hellhole. The young pony went by the name of Gallow Drop, which wasn’t very fitting until one took a good look at her cutie mark. It bore the image of some creature hanging by the neck, dead, from a hangman’s noose.

The young pony lost her parents in a train wreck when the family made the move to Ponyville. Her family occupied the last car on the train. The train’s journey had already been marred by bad weather and a broken brake pipe. But worse was to follow when the last car fractured one of its wheels. The coach was already known to be a rough rider because of its age, so none of the passengers or crew took any notice. But as the train crossed the wooden trestle about three miles outside of Ponyville, disaster struck. The fractured wheel disintegrated, and the back end of the carriage began to sway violently. Eventually, it struck one of the timbers of the trestle and lifted itself off the rails, dangling dangerously over the edge.

Before any of the crew or passengers could react, the carriage slipped free of its coupling with the penultimate coach and fell 200 feet into the gorge. It landed headfirst, causing the passengers and the potbelly stove to smash together into the grounded section of the car. Not surprisingly, a fire broke out, and those who weren’t killed by the impact were burned alive. Young Gallow was one of only three passengers to survive the crash and fire. Meanwhile, the engineer raced his train into town for help.

The train was evacuated of passengers, and local authorities and fire-ponies crowded into the remaining coaches, armed with whatever firefighting equipment could fit into the train. The last coach was fully ablaze by the time the rescue party arrived. The firefighters spent over 40 minutes trying to douse the flames. The locomotive even pitched in by shooting its blowdown valve and cylinder cocks directly onto the flames. It helped substantially, but the entire operation was doubtlessly in vain.

Before the rescue party had even arrived, Gallow had managed to drag both of her parents out of the car. Sadly, they were among those killed on impact. As the fire was brought under control, the engineer of the train climbed down the slope to help search for survivors. The two other survivors, a recently married couple, were taken on stretchers to the infirmary. Both managed to recover, but had suffered serious burns. Gallow had suffered a nasty blow to the head, and was bleeding profusely from a gash in her cranium. All in all, however, she was the luckiest survivor, though even that claim could be argued against.

It was her soft weeps that alerted the engineer to her presence. He approached the young filly, and was about to ask her if everything was alright. But upon seeing her crying over her parents’ bodies, the answer was already quite clear. Gallow looked back at the engineer, and saw that he was in tears as well. He felt responsible for the accident, since he failed to keep his passengers safe, and ended up costing the poor unicorn everything.

“I… I’m so sorry,” the engineer whispered to Gallow. She ran up and threw her arms around him, weeping bitterly. The two ponies just sat there for five minutes, holding one another, tears streaming down their faces.

After the fire was extinguished and the dead recovered from the wreck, the engineer took Gallow alone with his engine to Ponyville, signaling a second locomotive to recover the remainder of the train and the rescue team. Once in town, he personally escorted her to the infirmary, where Nurse Redheart took charge in caring for the filly’s physical (and emotional) wounds. Gallow said a heartfelt “goodbye and thank you” to the engineer. She hoped that if they ever met again, it would be under more favorable circumstances.

Gallow had spent the next three weeks in the orphanage within the hospital. She couldn’t bear it, though. The burned remains of the victims being stored in the morgue downstairs, followed by the mass funeral a few days afterward (which included her parents) were all too much for poor Gallow. It was nothing but a constant reminder of what had just happened. Soon, she was trying everything she could to bring her misery to an end, and by that I mean she tried committing suicide.

Her first attempt involved cyanide pills (how she got them no pony knows), but they were old and just induced vomiting. She tried slitting her throat, but the gruesome images that would have resulted were too much for her stomach to handle, and she simply dropped the knife and vomited in disgust. Her most recent attempt was to hang herself from the balcony of the library (Twilight Sparkle and Spike were not present at that time), but the rope ended up snapping, causing her to bounce off whatever branches she landed on during her drop. And in the ultimate case of Fate giving her the finger, she gained her cutie mark by this point.

Gallow now just sat under Pinkie Pie’s window, contemplating her next suicide attempt. She literally spent three hours browsing her options, from self-immolation to drowning to jumping in front of a cart. That last option seemed quick enough to be painless, but it wasn’t plausible since any pony pulling that cart would be more than likely able to stop in time. Then it struck her. Gallow looked back at the now vacant train tracks, thought about the road-kill idea for a second, and finally put two and two together. She was bright enough to know that trains were impossible to stop on a dime. For the first time in a long while, she smiled. It was a hopeful smile. She looked up into the sky.

As the sunlight shone down on her, she whispered, “I’ll be with Mom and Dad again. We’ll be a family once more….” With that, she stood up and slowly began to walk towards the rails, her silver anklets jingling as she went.

Meanwhile, Ironside and 2398 raced back to Ponyville. Applejack had accidentally herded her cattle over the main line, so now the express was roaring down the rails to make up for lost time.

“My cylinders are gonna pay big time for this!” a voice inside Ironside’s head called out.

“Don’t worry,” Ironside shouted out loud, “We’re only a mile from town. I’ll check on your running gear once we stop. I can always back the train up if you want me to slow down gradually.”

“Thanks, man,” the voice responded, “The last we need is for me to make a sudden stop!”

A Sickening Crunch

Gallow slowly trotted towards the tracks just outside the depot. She had watched trains come and go for a long time, and she knew that the locomotive often stops past the end of the station platform. As she approached the depot, she walked right alongside the border of the platform, so as to guarantee a hit when the train approached. It also kept her incognito, so that no pony could intervene until it was too late. Gallow reached the tracks, looking both ways in order to determine where the train would come from. Sure enough, she could make out the triple headlight configuration and columns of smoke emitted by the 10:30 express train. She sat behind the edge of the platform, waiting for the perfect moment to jump out in front of the train.

Ironside had decided that the best course of action by this point was to bring his engine gradually to a stop. It would cut down the risk of damage done to the running gear, and it also would be less uncomfortable for the passengers. The train would end up overshooting the depot by a good amount, but after consulting with the passengers on the express, the conductor informed Ironside that it was overall the best course to take. So now, as the station came into view, Ironside began pumping the brakes on his train. He twisted the brake handle back and forth, applying and releasing the air brakes with a steady rhythm to ensure a gradual, smooth braking. About a quarter-mile from the platform, Ironside noticed that the train’s speed had dropped to about 70 km/h. He continued to pump the brakes, keeping an eye on the speedometer. But with his concentration on the gauges, Ironside had no time to look ahead at what was on the track.

Gallow knew the time was now. The train was not stopping anytime soon, as far as she could tell. Taking a deep breath and keeping her mind set on the heavens, she took her leap of faith and landed smack in between the rails. She stood up on her hind legs, spread her arms open, and shouted, “Come take me, my cruel fate!”

“Liebe Fürstin Celestia! Halt!!! (Dear Princess Celestia! Stop!!!)” screamed the voice in Ironside’s head. The colt shot his head out of the cab window, and his jaw dropped. Standing there, in the middle of the track, arms outstretched, was a little pony!

“Scheiße! (Shit!)” the engineer screamed. Instinctively, he spun the brake handle all the way to the right, locking it in the emergency position. 2398’s massive drive wheels locked, causing sparks to fly from the rails. The passengers in the coaches were thrown forward by the massive deceleration. Ironside grabbed the whistle cord and began blowing the single-chime in a succession of short toots: the official whistle code for, “Clear the tracks!” Darting his eyes toward the speedometer, he winced as he read “40 km/h” on the gauge.

“Get off the tracks!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, “Get the f*** off the tracks!”

It was no use. Gallow just stood there, staring right into the face of the oncoming locomotive. As the buffer beam closed in on the little pony, she took one last look into the sky, and serenely closed her violet eyes.

“Goodbye, cruel world,” she whispered. Then, there was a sickening crunch….

Ironside knew exactly what had happened before the train even came to a stop. He was slumped back in his chair, an expression of horror spread across his face. His breathing was raspy and wavering. His heart beat as fast as the locomotive’s thumping air compressor. He felt for sure that the little pony that had been standing on the tracks was crushed. But his shaky hooves reached for the Johnson bar, and with much strain, he pulled it as far back as it would go. Then, with hooves still shaking, he eased off the brakes and pulled the throttle back. 2398 slowly backed up, but it was obvious that he was horribly shaken by this as well, as his driving wheels couldn’t keep a good grip on the rails. Ironside instinctively opened the sand dome to increase the traction, but it was clear that his mind was elsewhere. He peered out the window once more, to see if he could make out the pony he had just flattened. Sure enough, she lay there between the rails, in the same spot where she was standing only moments before. Her body didn’t look horribly disfigured, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t dead. Ironside weakly shut off steam and reapplied the brakes, bringing his train to a complete standstill. He then slumped back into his chair once more, his eyes beginning to tear up. I can’t believe it, he thought, I’ve killed a pony. Any remaining strength in his body immediately left him, and he fell to the floor and wept.

Meanwhile, the passengers had begun to stick their heads out of the windows of the coaches, curious to know what had just transpired. One rather enraged pony with long silver-white hair and glasses with purple lenses jumped out of her coach and galloped straight towards the cab of the engine. She placed her front hooves onto the bottom step of the ladder to the cab and lifted herself up onto her rear hooves, repeating the process once more before stepping onto the footplate.

“Herr Lokführer!” Photo Finish shouted in her native German, “Was ist los mit Ihnen?!”

Ironside looked up at the enraged fashionista, tears still streaming down his snout. “Wie bitte?” he responded weakly.

“What is wrong with you?!” Photo Finish repeated in English. “Don’t you know how to properly handle an express?”

Ironside couldn’t believe that he was being reprimanded for this. “I just killed a pony with this damned express!” he shouted back, highly upset.

Photo raised her eyebrow, unsure if what she just heard was true. “Come again?” she inquired.

“I… just… killed… a… pony…” the shaken engineer responded, he voice becoming more unstable with every word. “Just… look out… the window…” Photo Finish did so, peering past the engine’s boiler for a good look at the track ahead. Her squinted eyes then widened substantially, and she gasped in shock. Sure enough, there lay the poor little pony, knocked down by the massive train.

“Nein. Bitte, nein,” she whispered to herself. She looked back at Ironside, and it was only then that she noticed the tears flowing from his eyes. Any anger left inside her instantly vanished, replaced instead with compassion.

“I… I’m so… I’m so sorry,” Photo Finish said. Her voice became much softer than anyone who knew her would have heard. She crept up to the mournful driver and pulled him into a hug. “Forgive me, my dear,” she whispered, “I had no idea.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ironside responded, “You didn’t… wait…” Photo’s apology had just activated a flashback in his memory. He lifted himself up to the cab window, Photo Finish still holding him in her arms. He peered out the cab for a better look at the pony lying on the rails. His scanned her body, looking for something that might stick out to him. Neither her mane nor her braided tail looked familiar, but her coat did ring a bell. It was then that he noticed the two silver anklets on her left front leg. Ironside’s eyes widened again.

“What’s wrong?” Photo Finish inquired. She looked into his face, but recoiled slightly from the mortified look that she received. “My dear, whatever is the matter?” she asked again, her voice full of concern. Ironside didn’t answer. His eyes rolled up into his head, and he collapsed onto the footplate. Photo Finish had no idea what just happened, but she sat there, holding the fallen colt in her arms.

Reunion

Ironside lay sprawled out on the footplate of his engine. As if running over a little unicorn filly wasn’t bad enough, why then did it have to be the same filly he had recovered from the horrible train wreck he was involved in almost four weeks ago? His sub-conscience, however, was flashing rapidly back through the events that had unfolded back then. He remembered it all: the crashing of woodwork, the crackling of burning timbers, and the screams of those trapped inside the burning wreckage. His mind then flashed to him finding little Gallow Drop weeping over her dead parents and the sorrow that filled him from such a tragic scene. All the while, he lay perfectly still, supported only by the arms of Photo Finish.

The fashionista gently lay down the engineer’s head onto the floor, then clambered down the steps and galloped towards the pilot of the engine. She approached the filly’s body, doubtful that anypony could survive a hit such as this. Nevertheless, she checked her for injuries, and almost became sick from revealing how wounded and bruised the little filly was. Any open wounds she had were bleeding profusely, so even if she was alive, she didn’t have much time left to live. Photo knew exactly what to do. She ran off into Ponyville as fast as her legs and dress would permit.

Meanwhile, Applejack was hard at work assembling her apple stand to prepare for the day’s sales. With winter approaching soon, she knew that baked goods were sure to be in high demand, and any good farmer knew that apple baked goods were one of, if not the most popular. Already customers were lining up, eager to get their share of the produce before the lines got out of hand (or should that read, “out of hoof?”). The family farm’s harvest was especially high this year, so AJ wasn’t too worried about the line. There would be plenty of apples to go around.

Photo Finish galloped into the market square just as Big Mac finished unloading the first of the apple carts he had brought with. She skidded to a halt to the left of the kiosk.

“Miss… Applejack…,” Photo panted, “I have… need… of a… cart.”

“Um, may I ask what for?” AJ inquired.

“Incident… on… the rails,” Photo Finish responded, still short of breath.

“Come again?” Applejack replied, her eyebrow rising. Photo pointed back towards the depot. Applejack squinted for a second, and then widened her eyes upon finding the limp form of Gallow lying between the rails. “Sweet mother of Celestia!” she exclaimed. “Big Mac, hitch Ms. Finish onto that empty cart you got there.”

“Eeyup!” her big brother responded. Mac gingerly slipped the yoke of his neck and placed it around Photo’s. He then slipped the leather straps of the cart around each brass knob on the yoke. With a kick of dust, Photo hauled the heavy cart as quickly as possible back towards the depot.

The conductor and passengers were now fully aware of the accident, and a crowd had gathered around the front of the locomotive. Most wore looks of resignation, believing that there was no way the little pony could have survived. Many mares were already wiping their eyes with handkerchiefs. When the conductor heard the sound of galloping hooves and saw Photo Finish approaching with the cart, he ordered the crowd to break in order to let her through. “Help me load her into the cart,” Photo ordered. The conductor and brakeman nodded in response. Gently, they nuzzled their snouts underneath Gallow’s body and lifted her off the tracks. Her blood dripped down their muzzles as they carried her over to the cart and lowered her in. One of the mares kindly offered the crew her handkerchief to wipe their faces off, which they thanked her for. With that finished, Photo ran off with her precious cargo in tow, bound for the hospital.

Word of the incident spread quickly once the passengers reached town. Many headed over to the express, which still sat where it had been for the past twenty minutes. Others followed Photo Finish and Gallow to the hospital, eager to know whether or not the poor filly would live to tell the tale. Applejack watched Photo gallop past, cart in tow. She looked very worried, and rightly so. Drops of blood were falling off the back end of the cart, which actually discouraged many ponies from following Photo at all. Granny Smith approached her granddaughter. “Applejack, dear,” she said, “I’m going to see if that little filly will be alright.”

“OK, then, Granny,” Applejack responded, kissing her grandmother on the cheek, “I’m off to see if Ironside’s OK.” She knew which trains Ironside drove, since he was the most called upon for express duties.

“Should Big Mac and I take over the stand?” little Applebloom asked.

“That would be much appreciated,” replied AJ.

“We won’t let ya down, sis,” Big Mac responded. No one really heard Mac say much apart from his one-liner affirmatives and negatives, but come on, guys; do you really think that’s all he can say? In any case, Applejack made off for the express, leaving her siblings in charge of the stand. No one was in the mood for sales at the moment, though. All the ponies were concentrated on what would become of the wounded pony being wheeled to the ER.

“Do ya think the little pony’ll be OK?” asked Applebloom, shooting her brother a worried look.

Big Mac pulled his little sister towards him, nuzzling her. “I hope so, sis,” he replied, “I hope so.”

Applejack approached 2398 and trotted around to the engineer’s side (the right side) of the engine. She climbed up the steps to the cab, setting her feet down on the sooty floor. It took her a second to find the recumbent form of Ironside, who was still lying on the floor. She gently nudged him with her hoof. “Ironside,” she whispered, “Ironside, you awake?”

The colt let out a soft moan before opening his eyes. “Applejack?” he replied, “Where’s Photo Finish?”

“She took the filly to the hospital,” said the voice in Ironside’s head.

“Oh, that’s good,” Ironside replied softly.

Applejack looked confused. “I didn’t even answer your question,” she stated.

“I know,” Ironside said.

“Then who did?” asked Applejack, looking around the cab. Ironside pointed his hoof to the backhead of his locomotive.

“Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut,” the voice stated.

“It’s OK, 2398,” Ironside responded out loud.

Applejack stared at the colt. “Y’alright, hon?” she inquired, “It sounded as though you were talking to the engine for a second there.”

“I was,” Ironside stated, “He and I talk to each other all the time.” Applejack looked at Ironside like he had just lost it.

“Damn it all, Alex!” 2398 cursed, “Now she thinks you’re crazy!”

“Don’t call me that,” Ironside countered out loud. He wasn't fond of being called by his real name.

Applejack began to grow very concerned. She had seen this behavior from Ironside before, but she didn’t think that he was actually trying to converse with a locomotive. “Um, maybe y’all should head back to the roundhouse, Iron,” she said finally, “I think you should take the rest of the day off.”

Ironside looked back to the bloodstained rails ahead of his engine. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he sighed. Applejack smiled at him. Maybe his idea that the engine was sentient was just because he was traumatized by the accident.

“Shall I let the conductor know?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Ironside replied. Applejack pulled Ironside into a hug.

“Don’t worry, hon,” she whispered, “It’s not your fault.” Ironside began to softly weep into her shoulder. AJ pushed him back slightly and looked into his eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Ironside wiped his eyes.

“Why’d you have to say ‘It’s not your fault,’ AJ?” he replied, his voice breaking.

“Aww, come here,” she said, pulling him back into her hug.

Welcome to Ponyville!

Nurse Redheart sat near the operating table, her head in her hooves. She received just as much of a shock as Ironside when she saw who her latest patient was. Little Gallow Drop’s diagnosis was bad, to put it frankly. Her entire ribcage was shattered by the impact, and it ended up puncturing her skin, leading to the many lacerations on her body. She was lucky though: none of the bone shards damaged any of her vital organs. Redheart declared this as nothing short of miraculous, but Gallow would not survive unless her ribcage was wholly repaired. For that, she was going to need a little magic.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Redheart turned to see Twilight Sparkle and Spike, both fully decked out in surgeon’s uniforms. Twilight was the only unicorn the nurse could turn to at this point, since Rarity was liable to lose her lunch in this situation. Spike felt uneasy about this, too. He had never seen surgery performed before, but the description Twilight gave was not very encouraging. Nevertheless, he was willing to risk his stomach to save the little unicorn now lying on the table. She was still out from her brush with death, but Redheart gave her an anesthetic to be safe. “Are you two ready?” the nurse asked.

“We are,” Twilight replied.

“Uh, Twilight…” Spike began. The purple unicorn placed a hoof on her assistant’s shoulder.

“You’ll do fine, Spike,” she soothed, “Don’t worry.”

Back on the rails, Applejack pulled 2398 out ahead of the express to send for a second engine. She backed the Atlantic into the siding and set about switching the points that led back to the roundhouse. Ironside sat on the fireman’s side, tending to the boiler. He trusted Applejack with his locomotives, since he had given her a few lessons on how to drive trains with one of the yard engines. After setting the points, AJ climbed back into the cab and backed the Atlantic towards the turntable. Before setting the second set of points, she jumped back down and ran over to the nearest operating engine. The engineer readily agreed to take over the express and set off as soon as Applejack returned to 2398. This time, Ironside left the cab to set the points to the turntable. Once he was back in, AJ pulled the engine onto the table, which spun around until 2398 was facing into his stall. He slowly pulled in, stopping just a few inches from the end of the track.

In the operating room, Twilight and Nurse Redheart began the incision into Gallow’s body. Twilight gingerly sliced Gallow open with the scalpel. It was hard work, not just from trying to keep the blade steady, but also from Twilight’s gag reflex, which was starting to rear its head. Spike, quite frankly, wasn’t doing much better. Redheart watched the scalpel with baited breath, ready to intervene in case anything went awry. Luckily, that never happened. Twilight now began the difficult task of magically lifting each one of the bone fragments and reattaching it to its partner. She not only had to piece Gallow’s ribcage back together, but she also had to fuse the shards back into a whole ribcage. Spike stood on the table. He had to hold each shard up against the remainder of the ribcage while Twilight fused the shard back on. Fusing materials together (even two of the same kind) took lots of concentration on her part. Spike also had to hold the shards steady, which became troublesome given his queasiness. The entire process was slow and cumbersome. All the while, Nurse Redheart watched with anxiety written all over her face.

Back at the depot, the express stood by with its new engine (a homebuilt Equestrian engine) while a small van was added to the back of the train. Pinkie Pie and the Cakes were busy loading some of their baked goods onto the van for the express to take to the markets of the surrounding villages. Like the Apple family, the Cakes were known throughout Equestria for their exceptional pastries (the only difference being that the Apple family was known for their produce as well). Pinkie always loaded the van onto the 11:15 express, which was normally pulled by 2398. As she skipped up towards the locomotive to wish the engineer a safe and fun journey, she failed to recognize the new engine now sitting at the head.

“That’s weird,” she said, “2398 always pulls the 11:15. I wonder where he is.” She skipped back towards the van, but instead passed it to get a better look at the roundhouse. Sure enough, she could make out the maroon tender of 2398 sticking out of his stall. Pinkie automatically knew that something was up. Ironside loved his job to a fault, so his engine still sitting in its stall was an indication that something was wrong; very wrong. Worry came over Pinkie, and she began to gallop towards the roundhouse, narrowly avoiding the switching engine in the yard.

Ironside lay down on his bed, still heavily shaken by the day’s events. 2398 and Applejack sat nearby, watching him. No news of Gallow’s condition had been received since the accident, so Ironside still assumed the worst. His mind kept flashing back between the wreck from almost four weeks ago and the incident of today. He even remembered making a promise to Gallow. “Thank you, Mr. Ironside,” he remembered Gallow saying to him. “I hope we meet again someday.”

“We will,” he had responded. “And it will be under much better circumstances. I promise.” Tears began to stream down his face again. “But these aren’t better circumstances,” he whispered to himself. 2398 (though you couldn’t tell) was tearing up as well. He couldn’t bear to see his driver in such a miserable state.

Suddenly, the door to the roundhouse burst open. “Something’s wrong!” Pinkie Pie shouted in a very serious tone.

“I suppose y’all heard the news, then?” Applejack inquired.

“No, but I could sense that something bad must have happened. Otherwise, Ironside wouldn’t be lying on his bed in tears, would he?” replied Pinkie.

“Hey Pinkie,” Ironside responded weakly.

“What happened, Ironside?” she asked. “I’ve never seen you this sad before. Did you run over another little critter that happened to be on the tracks?”

“Pinkamena Diane Pie!” shouted Applejack. “Don’t remind him of that, especially not now!” Pinkie was taken aback by being called by her full name by anyone outside of her parents. Apparently, she had forgotten not to speak of the reason why Ironside was so uncomfortable around Fluttershy.

“Applejack,” she replied. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just…”

“You’re not far off, Pinkie,” Ironside said softly.

“What do you mean?” she asked. It took a while for Ironside to gather up the courage to say it.

“I… I killed… a filly,” he stated with much struggle. He then pointed with his hoof to the buffer beam of his engine. Pinkie looked over, and then gasped. The beam was stained a deep red from colliding with Gallow’s body. Pinkie’s normally poofy hair suddenly dropped down into thick, straight locks.

She slowly turned her head back toward Ironside, who was now staring at the ceiling with a grimace on his face. “You… you actually did,” she whispered to him.

“We aren’t 100% certain,” Applejack cut in. “Photo Finish rushed her to the ER soon after the incident.” Pinkie felt a little relief from that. She gently trotted over to Ironside’s bed and looked him straight in the eye. Then, she smiled at him.

“It was just an accident, Alex,” she said, able to read the guilt on his face like a book. “It’s not your fault.” Ironside let out a soft chuckle as the tears welled up.

“Why must you girls tug my heartstrings so?” he asked.

“That’s what friends do,” Applejack replied. Ironside smiled back at Pinkie.

“You’ve always been our friend,” Pinkie said before Ironside could even ask the question. “The heartstring tugging isn’t going to stop anytime soon.”

“Quite frankly, my dear,” Ironside responded, “I don’t want it to.”

Royal Recollections

Most ponies never normally gave a second thought about the switch in engines for the express. There were times when 2398 was suddenly stricken with some form of ailment, and his post had to be filled by another engine. On this day, however, with everypony knowing about the incident with Gallow, the absence of the familiar Bavarian engine and his driver from the head of the express was obvious to all. Some of the younger ponies wanted to stop by the roundhouse and console the poor driver, but the public was of course barred from railway property for safety reasons. Nevertheless, some of the other railway ponies stopped by the roundhouse and gave Ironside consolation cards that some of the regular express passengers had written in order to try and cheer him up. Ironside was glad that there were ponies out there that cared for him, but he was still haunted by the events of the day, and he knew that he was going to lose some serious sleep over this.

Since it was now late autumn, Princess Luna was raising the moon much earlier. She did welcome the change of seasons, since the ponies of Equestria were now given more time to appreciate her work of crafting the beautiful night sky. She had long since lost her jealousy of Celestia’s position as the sun goddess, but her favorite time of year was always around winter, when short days and long nights gave astronomers and stargazers alike more opportunity to study the wonders of the night sky. Once the moon and stars were in place, Luna landed in order to get a better view of her handiwork. She had become more critical, since she had been out of practice for a whole millennium, and didn’t want any flaws in the constellations.

Once Luna was certain that all the stars and planets were in their rightful places, she figured she’d visit some of her newfound friends in Ponyville. Twilight was bound to be trying out her new reflector telescope since her old refractor was in for lens adjustments. The princess trotted down a beaten path that led her behind the roundhouse. She watched the little yard engine race about, setting up and taking apart trainsets. The amount of modernization that Equestria had experienced in the 1000 years since her departure never ceased to amaze Luna, and the railways were of particular interest. She was enamored with trains to the point that she actually commissioned a royal train for her and Celestia. While Celestia was fully on-board with the idea, it didn’t take long for the princesses to find out just how impractical a royal train was for two winged unicorns. Not only that, their chariots were always on hand, and they were less of a pain to maintain, mechanically speaking. Unsurprisingly, the royal train was decommissioned, and Luna had to reluctantly fire the engineer from his job.

The engineer in question was now sitting outside the roundhouse, sipping German schnapps from a canteen he held in his hoof. As Princess Luna approached the roundhouse, she noticed him, and a bright smile spread across her face. “Alexander? Is that really you?” she asked. Ironside’s ears perked up; apart from his family, there were only two other ponies that he let call him by his real name, and this voice certainly wasn’t Celestia’s. He turned his head quickly, and an equally bright smile spread across his face.

“Luna!” he exclaimed in delight, “Hey!” He ran up to the princess and eagerly jumped into her awaiting arms.

“It is so wonderful to see you again,” said Luna, “We have not seen you for so long. Were you successful in acquiring a job?”

“Luna, you don’t need to speak so formerly,” replied Ironside.

“Sorry, Alex,” Luna chuckled, “It’s a habit of mine.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with it,” he said, “It’s just a little out of place. Oh, and yes, I did get a new job. I’m currently the express train driver for the Ponyville division.”

“Wonderful,” the princess replied, “I knew your royal connections would get you somewhere.”

“I was your engineer for one year, Luna,” Ironside stated, “That’s hardly a royal connection.”

“Still, it’s a claim no other engineer in Equestria can make,” Luna pointed out. Ironside couldn’t disagree with that fact: he was still the only royal engineer ever.

“I assume you’ve become acquainted with Twilight Sparkle and her friends?” Luna inquired.

“Oh yeah,” Ironside replied, “We see each other from time to time.”

“I was actually just on my way to visit her,” the princess said, “Would you like to come along?” The smile on Ironside’s face suddenly vanished. Luna was confused. She never thought visiting Twilight would discourage Ironside from tagging along. “Is something the matter?” she asked him. He sighed, hoping in vain that he wouldn’t have to explain the day’s events to her. But he answered her nevertheless.

“I… I…” he began. He turned his face away, unable to look his friend in the eye. “… I ran over a filly with the express,” he finally stated. He took a quick glance at Luna. Her eyes seemed like they were about to pop out of her head, and her jaw was fully slack. Ironside quickly turned his glance away from her again. Luna held her expression for about five seconds, then blinked and closed her mouth, though her eyes remained widened.

“Nurse Redheart asked Twilight and Spike to perform surgery on the girl,” he stated, “I don’t know how well the operation went. Honestly, I think it was more of an autopsy.” Applejack and Pinkie had told him that Gallow was sent to the ER, but they did not yet know of the details or the aftermath. Ironside still assumed her to be dead. All of a sudden, he felt Luna’s hoof place itself upon his shoulder. He looked up at her face again, and was met this time with a comforting smile.

“We should probably still go,” she replied, “Maybe Twilight can explain the situation with the filly. If she still is dead, at least you’ll have some closure.” Ironside could have cared less for closure at this point, since it would already be obvious as to the cause of death. Nevertheless, he took Luna’s advice and began to follow her down the path.

“Uh, hold on a sec, Luna,” Ironside stated suddenly, “Almost forgot.” Trotting back to where he had been sitting before, he picked up his canteen and took another swig.

“What is that?” the princess asked.

“Oh, it’s schnapps,” the engineer replied.

“Schnapps?” Luna asked, “You really shouldn’t be drinking that stuff.”

“Don’t worry,” Ironside replied, “I’m off for the rest of the day. I only started drinking it now, anyway. You can have some if you want.” Luna decidedly picked up the canteen with her magic, popped the lid off, and took a swig. She had heard of schnapps, but had never actually drunk it before.

Her eyes widened, and she quickly retracted the canteen from her lips. “Oh my!” she exclaimed.

“Heh, yeah, strong stuff,” the engineer replied. Luna figured it best not to take another sip of the stuff, but she still held the canteen by her magic. She was intrigued by the designs on the sides. “You like it?” Ironside asked. Luna lit up her horn’s tip and examined the patterns. On one side, she found miniature number plates from all the engines that Ironside had driven throughout his career, including 2398, whose number was located at the top.

As she rotated the canteen to examine the other side, she stared for a second, and then smiled. Opposite the number plates were three cutie marks. On top were two marks: one was the bent-ray sun mark of Celestia, and the other was the crescent moon and blotted night sky mark of Luna. Underneath the royal crests was the third mark: a black steam locomotive passing over a level crossing complete with cross-buck. The three marks were enclosed within a heart etched into the metal of the canteen. Luna looked back at Ironside, still smiling. She was deeply touched by how much she and her sister meant to Ironside.

“Why a heart, though?” she asked him with a raised eyebrow.

“Eh, it was Fluttershy’s idea,” Ironside said, “She can be a real romantic sometimes.”

“Well, it suits us,” the princess replied, “You were one of the first friends I made since my return to power.”

“As far as I can tell, I was one of your only friends,” Ironside pointed out. Luna nodded. She and Ironside had spent much time together in Canterlot during the time of the royal train. Since the train was rarely ever called out, Ironside spent much of his time getting Luna acquainted with the modernized world she once called home. As a result, Ironside became very close friends with Luna, and vice-versa. It also explained her reluctance to fire him from the position of royal engineer. After being pressured by both Ironside and Celestia, Luna finally conceded, but only on the condition that there be left provision to reactivate the train if the need ever arose, which the other two both agreed to.

The two ponies resumed their journey towards the library. Ironside still felt uneasy about visiting in case the news he received about Gallow was exactly what he feared. Luna could tell just as easily as Pinkie could that he was still nervous. She wrapped one of her wings around him. “You should not worry so much, Alex,” she spoke softly, “I am quite certain that Twilight did everything in her power to help that little pony.” Ironside nodded. He was familiar with the power of Twilight’s magic, and how much of it she could control. For once, he actually began to feel hopeful. Luna looked at her friend, and was delighted to see a smile on his face again.

Alexander & Cecilia

Twilight galloped down the stairs as soon as she heard the knock on the library’s door. She had received Luna’s letter not long after she returned home. Suddenly, though, she stopped. She remembered that she needed to be quiet, lest she wake up the two lumpy figures under the covers of the two beds opposite hers. With that in mind, she gently trotted down the last half of the staircase and over to the double door. There was another rap at the door, which was soon opened. “Hey, Luna,” Twilight started, “It’s great to see…” She looked behind the princess to find a tuft of black hair just above Luna’s flank. “Ironside?” Twilight asked incredulously. Luna nudged the tuft, and the engine driver’s head popped up from behind the princess.

“H-hey Twi,” the engineer responded in a soft voice similar to Fluttershy’s. Twilight looked worriedly up to the bedroom, but then smiled.

“Actually, it’s great you’re here,” she stated.

“Why?” asked the engineer.

“Because, I’ve got something to show you two,” the purple unicorn responded.

Ironside raised his eyebrow in confusion, but stepped inside as Twilight opened the front door to let Luna and him in. Twilight directed the engineer to the upstairs bedroom. Ironside followed, unsure of what she had in store for him. He felt comfortable, though. Twilight was possibly the most trustworthy pony he knew. He ascended the stairs without incident, Luna following close behind him. Twilight held out her hoof as he approached the top, indicating the two beds across the room from hers. At first, Ironside saw nothing out of the ordinary. He easily recognized Spike tucked into his cradle and fast asleep, but it was when he looked towards the guest bed that he widened his eyes and gasped. There was a certain pony lying in the bed. A certain pony that he had seen only twice before….

“It…it’s her,” Ironside began.

“Who?” asked Luna.

“The pony I…ran over,” he finished. Ironside slowly trotted over to the sleeping Gallow. “Is-is she…?”

“She’s alive, Ironside,” Twilight responded. Before she could say anything else, though, Ironside picked her up and hugged her tightly.

“Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” he squealed. Twilight chuckled and returned the hug.

“You’re welcome, Iron,” she replied. “Spike and I tried our best to fix her up. It was hard work, and neither one of us really has the stomach for surgery.” Ironside gingerly lifted the covers off Gallow. Her body was still discolored from the bruising, but there were no disfigurations or open wounds. Ironside smiled again, this time with tears forming in his eyes.

“You saved her life,” he said, “That’s all that matters to me right now.”

Just then, Gallow shifted in the bed. She seemed to be waking up! Taken by surprise, Ironside dropped the covers back onto her and stepped back. “Uuuh…is someone there?” the little filly asked. Ironside bravely stepped forward.

“Uh, Cecilia,” Ironside said, “How do you feel?” Gallow froze. Nopony knew her real name! At least, nopony who was alive knew it. But, there was that one pony…

She slowly lifted her head off the pillow and turned. Was that who I think it was, she thought. Sure enough, her eyes caught sight of the young engineer who had brought her out of the train wreck. “M-Mr. Ironside!” she exclaimed.

“Hello, Cecilia,” he responded softly with a smile.

“Where…where are we? And who are these ponies?” she asked, looking at Twilight and Luna. Upon seeing the princess, however, she froze again in amazement. “Princess Luna!” she exclaimed. In no position to formally bow to Luna, Gallow simply lowered her head, which Luna acknowledged.

“We’re in the Ponyville Library,” Ironside explained to Gallow, “Miss Twilight Sparkle here is the librarian.” Here he directed Gallow’s gaze towards Twilight, who waved her hoof.

“Hello there,” she said, “I was asked by Nurse Redheart to perform the operation on you. I brought you here to recover.” Upon hearing this, Gallow examined her body. It was heavily bruised from the impact with the train, but was structurally sound.

“So, it didn’t work,” Gallow whispered. However, Ironside heard what she said. What didn’t work? he thought. He was unsure of what she meant, that is, until she lifted the covers off her flank to examine the rest of her body. Ironside took a good look at the cutie mark she now had. His eyes widened. He recognized the hangman image instantly. There were only two things he could think of that the gallows could represent: execution and suicide.

“That’s, uh, an interesting cutie mark you got there,” Twilight suddenly said. Gallow looked at her in confusion, then at her own mark. Oh, shit, she thought, my cover’s been blown! Desperate, she quickly tried thinking up a lie to cover up the disturbing image on her flank. “Uh…yeah…” she began.

“Pray tell, what kind of mark is it?” Luna asked. The princess stepped over to examine the mark. She reeled back in horror. “What the bloody hell?!” she exclaimed. Twilight, taken aback by Luna’s strong language, quickly stepped over to look at Gallow’s cutie mark as well, and reeled back in equal shock.

“Oh my goodness!” she shouted. Suddenly, Spike shot up in his crib.

“What happened?! Was somepony brutally murdered?”

“N-no! No, it’s OK!” Gallow exclaimed, “It’s just a joke!” Twilight, Spike, and Luna all looked at her in confusion. “My cutie mark: it’s just a joke,” she went on.

“What kind of sick joker drew that on you?” Luna asked, still recovering from the shock.

“I was, uh, playing Hang-pony with some of the other fillies at the orphanage,” Gallow falsely explained, “Somepony wanted to draw the image on my flank. We all thought it was hilarious.” She added some forced laughter into the equation, which was repeated semi-genuinely by the others, except for Ironside. His laugh had a certain tinge of nervousness.

There was a seriously awkward silence afterwards, which Ironside decided to break after only about ten seconds. “So, uh…” he began, desperate to change the subject, “Twilight, didn’t you want to show Luna your new telescope?”

Twilight gasped in surprise. “Oh yeah! Luna, I just got this awesome new reflector telescope I want to show you!” The princess quickly followed Twilight down the walkway towards the balcony, with Spike close behind. Once they were out of earshot, Ironside let out a heavy sigh of relief and fell back against Gallow’s bed.

“Mensch, das war schrecklich!” he exclaimed. “Sie könnten die Wahrheit über dir ausfinden.”

“Huh?” asked Gallow in confusion.

“They could’ve discovered the truth about you, Cecilia.”

“W-what truth?” Gallow asked, “I didn’t hide anything. The mark’s just a joke, like I said.”

“Uh, throwing yourself in front of my train earlier this morning tells me otherwise,” Ironside stated matter-of-factly, “I know what you tried to do, Cecilia. Or do you not remember the circumstances under which we first met?”

Gallow realized that there was no point in trying to hide the truth from Ironside. He obviously remembered the traumatizing situation she was stuck in when they first met. It probably wasn’t that hard for him to figure out that she was suffering from suicidal tendencies at this point. “Geez, Mr. Ironside,” she said, incredulous, “Why didn’t you become a psychiatrist instead of a train driver?”

“Because I too am prone to depression,” he responded, “Honestly, I’m not that different from you.”

“How?” the filly asked, “You always seem so happy when you’re behind the throttle.”

“Well, that’s when I’m at my happiest,” he replied, “But when I was growing up with the other pegasi, I was anything but happy.”

“What do you mean?” Gallow asked.

“Well, think about it for a second,” Ironside said, “When have you ever seen a pegasus who loved anything more than flying? What pegasus in their right mind would have a train obsession?”

Gallow thought about it for a minute. It certainly was unusual for a pegasus pony to love anything more than flying. Sure enough, she began to realize just how much of an oddball Ironside was. “I never about that before,” she finally murmured, “Did you have a difficult childhood?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he said, “None of the pegasi would ever accept me because of my “earthly” desire to be an engine driver.” Gallow felt horrible. She herself never had trouble being accepted, but she understood how lonely Ironside must have felt.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, “I never knew your childhood was rough too.”

“Well, it’s nothing to be concerned about,” he replied, “I’m just glad I only lost my wings and not my life.”

“Wait. What?” Gallow asked. Ironside spread his wings open. It was hard to notice when they were folded down because of his white button-down shirt, but his wings (excepting his feathers) were encased in articulated metal scaffoldings painted to match the color of his clothes.

“I’m not called ‘Ironside’ for nothing,” he stated.

Gallow went completely slack-jawed. “Wha-what happened to you?”

“Suicide attempt,” he stated, “I tried to kill myself by jumping off one of the clouds and slamming into the ground. Opened my wings involuntarily at the last minute but landed wrong. This is the end result.” At that he flexed his artificial limbs. “Consider yourself lucky,” he finished. Gallow didn’t know what to say. She just stared in shock.

“Well, then,” Ironside said, “I guess I should be going.” Without another word to Gallow, and without informing the others of his departure, Ironside briskly trotted down the stairs and out the front door. Now feeling saddened just by having to retell his story, he didn’t feel like being around anypony at that moment. He started up the path that led back to the roundhouse, not even bothering to look back at Twilight, Luna, and Spike, who were all busy stargazing with the new telescope on the balcony. He was depressed again, but all he did was tell himself that it didn’t matter, even though it did. It was this same feeling that drove him to jump off the cloud many years before, and there was always the risk that he might do worse next time….

The Rail Gang

Early the next morning, Gallow decided to check in on Ironside to see if he was feeling any better. Twilight and the others were worried after his unexpected departure the night before; they had never seen him simply trot out as if he wasn’t wanted anymore. She decided to keep the details of his back-story a secret, fearing that it would only add to their concern. Nevertheless, she wanted to make sure that he wasn’t still upset about having to recite his darkened past. So, once she had eaten breakfast and finished helping Spike with his chores, she made her way over to the roundhouse, following the same backwoods path that Luna and Ironside took to get to the library.

She gently trotted around to the side entrance, hoping not to be seen by any of the other workers; pedestrians were not permitted to be on railway property without written consent. She slowly opened the door, which creaked slightly on its hinges. She stepped in, and then gently shut the door behind her. Nopony seemed to have noticed her entering. Well, she thought to herself, I guess I should start looking for Mr. Ironside.

It was dark inside the roundhouse. Even though there were windows at the top, they were blackened by the copious amounts of coal smoke that would often fill the structure close to asphyxiation point. The giant stall doors were all shut. Gallow could barely make out the silhouettes of the massive locomotives she was walking near. There was no way she would find Ironside amidst all this heavy machinery. In fact, she couldn’t even see the inspection pit five feet in front of her.

There was a sudden yelp as Gallow fell hooves-first into the pit between the rails. Her jaw landed with a thud on the other side of the pit, but her front hooves dangled helplessly into it. “Oh crap,” she muttered, “I’m stuck.”

“Need some help there, li’l lady?” said a voice inside her head suddenly. Gallow looked around in surprise. She didn’t know where the voice came from, only that it wasn’t Ironside’s. This voice sounded deep and gruff, but friendly. Suddenly, a light shone down on the little filly. Temporarily blinded, Gallow blinked several times into the light to see where the source was. “Oh, I’m sorry, miss,” came the voice again, “I didn’t mean to blind you.” Gallow’s eyes widened when she saw where the voice was coming from. There, shining its headlight down on her was a massive black steam engine. Now, Gallow had seen the engines of the Ponyville Division before, but none were as big as this one. This engine seemed to tower over the other engines surrounding him on either side.

“You OK there, Gallow?” came a more familiar voice inside her head. She strained her neck to try and look in the direction of 2398, which she found at the end of the roundhouse opposite where she had entered.

“Oh, hello 2398,” the filly replied, “I seem to have fallen into this pit here.”

“Hey Mike, help a little sis out, why don’t you?” 2398 called to the black engine. The massive Mike gently rolled forwards towards the helpless filly. He nudged the end of his cowcatcher under her belly and rolled forwards some more, using the wedge of the catcher to lift her out of the pit. Gallow was surprised at how gentle of a giant Mike was. Once the little filly was clear of the pit, Mike rolled back away from the doors, allowing Gallow to slide off his cowcatcher.

“Thank you, Mr. Mike,” she said. “Oh please, dear, just call me ‘Mike,’” replied the engine.

“Mike here is our number 940,” said a Germanic female voice to Mike’s right, “I’m Hildegard, number 917.”

Gallow trotted over to the light switch at the end of the stall. Once she flipped it on, she got a chance to look at the three engines now sitting in the stall. 2398 she already recognized. Hildegard was a trim and very beautiful Danish steamer. Like 2398, she was an Atlantic, and a compound engine, except that her compound system was different. Her high-pressure cylinders were located under her steam chests and smokebox, while her low-pressure ones were located in the normal position on either side. Her smokebox saddle had a double concave shape, which resembled long black hair. Mike was much scruffier-looking than the other two, and was much more massive. He was an American 2-10-2 “Santa Fe”-type engine: two pilot wheels, ten driving wheels, and two trailing wheels under his cab. Like the others, he was also a compound. He and 2398 were actually built by the same manufacturer, and they shared similar compound designs. Their HP cylinders were physically connected to the LP ones. The main difference was that Mike’s cylinders were connected end-to-end, while 2398’s were attached over-and-under.

Gallow stared in awe at Mike. She had never seen an engine so big. “Come now, Gallow,” the big engine said, “You’re embarrassing me.” Gallow stopped staring and looked over to the other two.

“Might I ask why a young filly is trespassing on railway property?” asked Hildegard in suspicion.

“Oh, I was just looking for Mr. Ironside,” replied Gallow, “Have any of you seen him?”

“He was gone long before you got here,” replied 2398, “He was requested by the railway to test some new bogies for the sleeper cars.”

“I see,” Gallow said in a disappointed tone, “He suddenly left the library last night and didn’t seem to be doing too well. I wanted to see if he was OK.”

“Well, he seemed fine this morning,” replied Hildegard, “I wouldn’t worry about it. My little Ironside is a strong young lad.” Mike and 2398 chuckled at this. They couldn’t help but find Hildegard’s attachment to her driver anything short of comedic. Gallow sat down on the floor, unsure of what to do now that Ironside was gone for the day.

Mike happened to notice the disappointed look on Gallow’s face. He looked over at his colleagues and whispered a question to them. Both looked down at the little filly, then back at Mike. You couldn’t tell, but they smiled at him, indicating their approval of his request. “Say Gallow,” Mike said, “I’ll be leaving for the morning drag freight soon. Unfortunately, my driver is sick today. I can’t miss this assignment, so I was wondering…”

“Yes?” asked Gallow.

“Would you like to be my driver for the day?” the big engine finished. Gallow’s jaw dropped. She had never been asked to do anything like drive a train!

“I-I don’t know, Mike,” she stuttered, “It’s-it’s an awfully big responsibility.”

“Don’t worry, dear,” he replied, “We won’t be going any faster than 25 mph anyway. Besides, I can teach you how to drive me. Just listen to what I say, m’kay?” Hildegard and 2398 exchanged confused looks. Didn’t Mike remember that Ironside was his driver?

“Well…alright,” Gallow finally said, “I really have nothing better to do, and I don’t want to just sit around in the library all day.”

“Excellent!” replied Mike, “Let’s get started.” Gallow timidly stepped over towards the driver’s side of Mike’s cab, lifting herself up by her front hooves. Once inside, she gazed in amazement at the menagerie of levers and knobs that littered the backhead. She sat down on the rather comfy chair and tried her hoof at reaching for each of the controls on the engineer’s side. Mike went over the main controls with her: the throttle, the Johnson bar (reverser), the independent and train brakes, the drain cock/simpling valve lever, and the sand bar. He then instructed her to head towards the fireman’s side, and explained the controls that the fireman would deal with in keeping the boiler running smoothly. He explained that the fireman needed to control the flow of water from the tender to the boiler, as well as keeping the fire burning brightly and evenly to ensure adequate steam generation. Gallow was at least familiar with the coal shovel and its purpose. Once Mike was certain that Gallow knew what to do, he gave her the go-ahead to ease him out of the stall and onto the turntable. Gallow pushed the Johnson bar gingerly, but nothing happened. “You need to push harder than that, sweetie,” the kindly engine pointed out, “Engines like me take ‘heavy machinery’ to a whole new level.” Gallow tried again, putting all her weight into the push. This time, the bar slid forward all the way. With Mike now in full forward gear, the little filly released his independent brakes, opened his cocks and simpling valve, and eased his throttle open.

With a mighty shove, the Santa Fe engine chuffed ahead onto the turntable. Gallow stopped him once she knew he was positioned correctly and jumped out of the cab. She headed for the table’s controls, first making sure to unlock the table from its position. With the pull of a lever, she spun the 225-ton loco and tender until they faced the depot of Ponyville. She relocked the table, then hopped back into the cab and drove Mike off towards the depot to await the freight train.

“Not bad,” Mike said to his little driver as they sat at the platform, “Not bad at all. You’d make a great hostler, Gallow. How old are you exactly?”

“Twelve,” replied the filly.

“Twelve? No kidding?” the engine exclaimed. Gallow shook her head. Mike chuckled to himself. “There was a time when every little colt dreamt of becoming a locomotive engineer,” he said pensively, “I was your age around that time.”

“How old are you, Big Mike?” asked Gallow.

“One hundred-eight,” he replied.

“What?! One hundred-eight years old?!” the little filly exclaimed.

“Eeyup,” replied Big Mike, “Baldwin built me in 1903. They built 2398 three years before me, and Hanomag built Hildegard in 1909. We’re all over 100.”

"What’s Hanomag?” asked Gallow. “They’re the Hanoversche Maschinengebau or Hanomag for short,” the engine replied, “They’re a German machine company based in Hanover.”

Gallow couldn’t believe that the engines were all over 100 years old. They looked so clean and fresh, she swore they were all brand-new! “Wow,” she whispered impressively, “You guys must have been through a lot.”

“We have,” Mike replied, “And we all would be dead now if it wasn’t for Celestia and Ironside.”

Gallow was confused. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean, the three of us would’ve been cut up for scrap if Celestia hadn’t taken us in,” explained Mike, “We were retired from active service long before we came to Equestria. Bigger and better engines replaced us, and there was no place left for us. When the princess realized that bigger and faster motive power was needed for the Equestrian Railways, she sought us out and brought us here. We’re all very thankful to her for saving us.”

“So, you’re the heavy freight engine, and 2398 and Hildegard are the passenger engines, right?” said Gallow.

“Exactly,” responded Mike, “No matter how hard or strenuous our work gets, we keep chugging on because we’re thankful for still being around to work and live. It’s our duty as locomotives to care for you ponies because you care for us.”

Gallow smiled upon hearing those words. She realized how happy the engines were to be alive and well. She began to think about how she was having so much trouble trying to see her own life in the same happy light, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of freight cars being coupled to Mike’s tender. It was time to head off. Putting her musing aside, Gallow mimicked the same procedure she had seen Ironside pull off so many times before. Two blasts of the whistle, Johnson bar full forward, brakes off, simpling valve open, and throttle open. The familiar alternating steam jets appeared as Big Mike strained to get his heavy load going. Once he knew it was under control, he signaled Gallow to shut off his simpling valve, switching him to compound mode. Gallow pulled the cock lever back, shutting off both the drain cocks and the simpling valve. Now, all she had to do was keep the train moving at a safe and steady pace. Simple in theory, but not in practice, as driver and engine were soon to find out….

Author's Note

More technical crap

Brakes Down

The initial ten miles out of Ponyville were on level grade. All Gallow had to do was control the train’s speed with the throttle, since the drag of the freight was enough to brake the train without actually actuating the brakes. “Got the hang of things?” asked Big Mike.

“More or less,” replied Gallow, “It’s my first time driving a train of any kind.”

“Well, freight trains are slow, but I should warn you,” said Mike, “Controlling them when going downhill can be a real hassle. I’ve had my fair share of runaway freight trains, and let me tell you, they are one of the deadliest mishaps to occur on the rails.”

“How do they happen?” asked Gallow.

“Well, mine were always in the winter. Ice on the rails plus lack of sand equals uncontrollable speeding downhill and lots of soiling on my footplate. But there’re lots of other ways that a runaway could occur.”

Gallow kept the thought of runaways in mind, but didn’t worry about it too much. There was no ice on the rails so far, and she had plenty of sand in the dome. Besides, the start of the climb through the Draconian Range was a shallow grade. All she really had to concentrate on was keeping the speed of the train above 10 mph. Mike kept giving her instructions when needed, using his experiences with Ironside as reference. Gallow felt relatively comfortable behind the throttle. She began to think that she might have found her true talent, and if it were possible, her cutie mark might change to something less disturbing.

It was a single track all the way through the Range. The trains would start at the bottom and gradually climb up to 8000 feet above sea level, remaining at that altitude until they were about three quarters of the way through the range. At that point, the downward coast began. Tunnels and trestles provided a relatively straight shot through the mountains, but the grades were notorious for being amongst the steepest in Equestria. The ruling grade on both sides of the line was about 1.5%, but it got up to 3% on certain sections. This made coasting downhill a hoof-biting experience. Throughout the railway’s history, over 50 trains (passenger and freight) had lost control and derailed. Over 200 passengers and crew were lost. Much of the damaged rolling stock and locomotives still littered the landscape on both sides of the pass, haunting reminders of what happens when things go wrong. Celestia had requested that some of the engines be repaired and returned to service, while those damaged beyond repair remain where they wrecked to serve as memorials to those lost.

The daunting grade soon began. Mike had Gallow drop his valve gear into full forward. This ensured maximum steam input for every stroke of his valves. It would cost him fuel efficiency, but he was a compound engine for a reason. Gallow felt the heavy strain of the freight cars immediately. She kept one hoof on the throttle and one on the sanding lever, as the grades were steep enough to cause slipping without water or ice on the rails. Mike’s chuffing soon became slow and laborious. He had handled freights up and down the Draconian Pass many times before, but his age still took its toll; it was much easier when he a new engine. Sweat began to pour down Gallow’s head. Already the trip was starting to become dangerous, and she had only been driver for half an hour now. Hearing Mike’s strained chuffing, she opened up his throttle wide, leaving the Johnson bar in the full forward notch. She also opened the sand bar, just in case.

The move worked. Mike’s chuffs became fuller and stronger as he continued to haul the train up the grade. As Gallow hopped off the driver’s chair to build up some more steam, she took time to look at the two water glasses on the backhead. One measured the water level of the tender; the other measured the level in the boiler. She noticed that both were below half. Realizing that the right glass should never read below half, she quickly opened up the injectors that fed water from the tender into Mike’s boiler. She heard hissing and then gurgling as fresh steam shot the water through the pipes underneath the cab into the boiler. Slowly, the water level began to rise. Once it got to about three-quarters up, Gallow shut the injectors off. She knew that Ironside always worked as both driver and fireman for his engines, but she never realized just how hard he had to work. His focus had to dart between speeds, water level, fire temperature, steam pressure, and a myriad of other important things that began to make Gallow’s head spin.

Her eyes jumped back to the tender water glass. “We need to find a coaling station soon,” she noted, “Our water tank is less than half-full.”

“There should be a water tower somewhere around here,” Mike replied. Sure enough, they found one just half a mile from where the grade leveled off. Mike pulled up to the water tower, Gallow inching him forward to line up his tank with the spout. She shut off the throttle and sand and applied the brakes. The train came to a stop.

Or so it seemed. Before either one of them knew what was happening, the whole train began to roll back down the grade. “Hey! What’s going on?” Gallow called out.

“Didn’t you set the brakes?” Mike responded.

“Would your drivers be locked if I hadn’t?” Gallow pointed out. Sure enough, Mike’s driving wheels weren’t turning at all. But the freight train was dragging him and Gallow back down the grade! Gallow began climbing over Mike’s tender to see what was going wrong with the brake connections. She couldn’t understand why Mike’s brakes were applied, but the train’s brakes were not. As she peered over the tender and looked down at the coupling, she soon understood why. She had forgotten to connect Mike’s brake hose with that of the rest of the train!

Gallow screamed in panic as the now runaway train began picking up speed. Inside the cab, the speedometer read above 30 mph. The speed limit on the grades was 15! As the train continued down the grade, the freight cars began rocking dangerously from side to side. Desperate, Mike commanded Gallow to release his brakes and open the throttle. Gallow did so, and Mike’s drivers spun forwards again. It was no use; there was too much weight and speed for Mike to be of any use as a brake. “Uncouple us!” he called out to the filly.

“What?! Mike, we’ll lose the train!” she cried back.

“We’ll lose our lives if we don’t!” he yelled. Gallow, realizing this to be true, reluctantly ran back over to the tender and began climbing down the ladder towards the couplers. She gripped the handle that locked the coupler on the tender and lifted it up. The coupler unhooked from the one on the train. The freight cars, now free, picked up speed and rolled away. With the weight gone, Mike’s spinning drivers regained control, and the engine was finally able to slow himself down.

Gallow hopped back into the cab and shut off steam. Mike’s drivers stopped spinning. Gallow this time applied his independent brake, which worked only on his and his tender’s brakes. But Mike was too concerned with other matters. “We have to follow the train!” he yelled, “It might run into whatever trains are following us!” But before Gallow could respond, they heard a high-pitched whistle ahead of them. “Oh no!” Mike exclaimed, “It’s Ironside and the special coach!” Sure enough, a train consisting of a single engine and a single sleeper coach could be seen on the track ahead. It was the new sleeper car that the railway was testing, and Ironside and many of the Ponyville upper-class were on board. Scared silly, Gallow released Mike’s brakes. The engine began rolling back down the grade, following the path of the runaway freight cars.

Ironside sat in the lounge of the private sleeper car, his hind leg bouncing up and down nervously. Not surprisingly, Rarity had invited herself on board the car to join in the testing of its luxury, but she had also brought Fluttershy along for the ride. She felt that Fluttershy was the best pony to get a second opinion from, since Fluttershy herself was well-read in matters of style and luxury. Of course, as mentioned before, Ironside was anything but comfortable around Fluttershy. It was like standing next to a family member of somepony he had accidentally run over. Although, considering Fluttershy’s relationship with the woodland creatures of Ponyville, Ironside actually was standing next to the family member of the victim. Every time the yellow Pegasus pony looked at him, she smiled. He would smile back, and then whisper “Holy shit” to himself when she turned in another direction. Luckily, Rarity had Fluttershy engaged in conversation with the other upper-class ponies, so Ironside had time to relax. Yet he had a nagging sense that something was amiss…

Meanwhile, Gallow and Big Mike rolled down the Draconian Pass, trying to catch up with the runaway freight train. As they blasted through a tunnel, Gallow caught sight of the cars, but she didn’t like what she saw. They were on a trestle about a mile away from Mike, and they were rocking dangerously. Suddenly, the worst happened. The last car on the train rocked past the tipping point and tumbled over the side of the trestle. The rest of the cars followed suit. Boxcars, tankers, hoppers, gondolas, all kinds of cars and cargo went tumbling down the trestle into the gorge. They landed with the resounding sounds of crunching metal, shattering wood, splashing liquids, and breaking glass. The cargo was now spilt all over the ground. Furniture, food, drink, cosmetics, and all sorts of goods littered the valley floor. Mike couldn’t see the train behind him crash into the gorge, but the sounds produced when it did made him go, “Well that didn’t sound good.” Gallow just stared, wide-eyed, at the wreckage in the valley. She couldn’t form any words in her mouth, so Mike just took her stunned silence as confirmation that the train was officially screwed. “Right then, back to Ponyville,” he said to himself as he coasted back down the grade.

About five minutes later, the sleeper car and its engine passed over the trestle and the wreckage. The debris was spread far and wide, so it was easy for the passengers to make out the devastation. When the engine crew saw the wreckage, they immediately stopped the train and inspected the damage. The driver ran into the sleeper. “Ironside,” he called out, “The 8:30 freight has wrecked!” Ironside didn’t know that Gallow and Big Mike were pulling that train, but he jumped up in surprise nonetheless.

“Wait, what?” he asked.

“Look out the window, dear,” Rarity responded. Ironside then noticed that everypony had their faces plastered against the windows. He tried to find an opening to get a glimpse of the wreck, but couldn’t find any. So, he lifted his head up above Rarity’s and peered down into the gorge. Sure enough, he could see the destroyed freight cars and their spilled cargo on the ground.

For the second time that week, his eyes rolled up into his head, and he fell to the floor unconscious. But then, for some reason, Rarity did the exact same thing. Fluttershy was shocked to see them both pass out, and asked the engineer of the train what had happened. Looking at the waybill, he noted that Rarity had some new fabrics and cosmetics on the freight train. Unfortunately, they were now stained with milk, eggs, wine, and soda, as their boxcar had been crushed by the refrigerated car that now rested on top of it.

Change of Plans

Gallow and Big Mike rolled back into Ponyville about 3 hours ahead of schedule. Nopony seemed to notice, though. Daily life in Ponyville was quite lively, and the citizens all had their own lives to concern themselves with, so nopony thought that the big Santa Fe freight engine rolling back into the yards minus a string of empties was anything suspicious. Nevertheless, Mike tried his hardest not to make any excessive noise as he snuck back towards the turntable and the roundhouse. Had he a face, it would have been as pale as Gallow’s.

2398 and Hildegard sat quietly in their stalls. Word of the incident in the Draconian Pass had not yet reached the surrounding areas, so the two Atlantics were quite shocked to see Mike spinning around on the table. As they glimpsed the right side of his cab, they saw little Gallow sitting there, her head in her hooves. The two engines exchanged worried glances. Mike soon had his tender facing the roundhouse, and he rolled silently and slowly in. Once he came to a stop, Hildegard and 2398 looked at him and saw the blank stare on his smokebox.

“Uh, Mike?” asked 2398. Mike jumped (literally!) as his trance was shattered. His front end landed back on the rails with an earth-shattering clang, causing the shelves and racks behind him to come crashing down on all three engines’ tenders. “Ow! Damn it all, Mike, what the hell happened?!” yelled 2398.

“Why are you two back so soon?” asked Hildegard, directing her question to Gallow. Gallow didn’t answer. Her head was still buried in her hooves. “Gallow, dear,” Hildegard whispered, “What happened?” Gallow slowly lifted her head up and stared out the fireman’s side window at the Danish engine. Her throat was dry as paper. When she tried to speak, all that came out was a raspy, unintelligible whisper.

Mike sighed and answered for her. “We lost control of the train and it fell off one of the trestles in the Draconian Pass.” 2398 stared at Mike. The tone of the Santa Fe indicated that he was being sincere about it. Gallow buried her face again.

“It’s my fault,” she moaned in a muffled voice, “I didn’t hook up the air pipes for the brakes before we left.” The Bavarian engine looked down at his coupler. He knew that hooking up the air pipes was a mundane but crucial job that could cause disaster if forgotten. He wasn’t surprised that Gallow had forgotten about it, but the fact that she was able to cause such a huge train wreck still shocked him.

Gallow hopped out of Mike’s cab and sat down on 2398’s pilot. “Ironside’s gonna kill me, isn’t he?” she asked, looking up at the Bavarian.

“Not if you get the lead out of here before he comes back,” he responded, “And you’ve got quite some time before that happens.” Gallow didn’t seem relieved to hear that. She couldn’t believe that she had left the engineer who saved her life in such a horrid position.

“I can’t come back, can I?” she asked mournfully.

“Not true,” the engine replied, “You’ll just have to stay in Ponyville while the railway officials sort this out.”

2398 thought for a while about where Gallow could go and what she could do while she was away from the railway. Something told him that the hospital wasn’t a good idea, since it was full of bad memories for her. The mortuary (yes, Ponyville has one) was even worse. “Why the hell did the mortuary pop into my head?” he said to himself. In any case, he browsed through the options in his mind, considering all the possibilities. After a good ten minutes, he figured that the library was the best place to send her. Twilight and Spike would take good care of her, and it would be a nice place for Gallow to stay in while the freight accident was sorted out.

Meanwhile, the special test train continued its return to Ponyville. Ironside had by this point recovered. Rarity, on the other hand, was having a panic attack. Without the new fabrics, she would be behind schedule on her latest dress designs. While plenty of her materials could be found in Ponyville, Canterlot, and the surrounding areas, some of the fabrics had to be outsourced. Luckily, the fabrics on the train weren’t in short supply. They were just hard to come across. Nonetheless, Rarity commenced her “Worst Possible Thing” routine, complete with obligatory couch. Ironside looked on with an “Oh brother…” expression on his face.

Luck seemed to be on Gallow’s side, though. The conductor of the train had double-checked his waybill and discovered that there was no scheduled freight for the 8:30 timeslot. He then relayed this to Ironside, who scratched his head in serious confusion. The freight train itself was listed in the schedules, but it wasn’t supposed to leave until 10:00. This meant that none knew what engine and crew took the train out so early. For all they knew, the crash could have been the work of arsonists, even though such occurrences were rare. Ironside decided that all possible causes should be investigated, and that the surrounding areas should be patrolled near the railway in case arsonists were behind the crash. The conductor agreed.

Fluttershy wore a worried expression on her face. If arsonists were the cause of the derailment, then the crews of the railway, Ironside included, were all in serious danger. She had heard and read many stories regarding things gone wrong on the rails. The gory details concerning passenger train wrecks were too much for her, but she knew that freight train wrecks were horrific in their own right. She also worried for her little woodland friends too, as train wrecks could occur in the forest. Fluttershy shook her head and tried to force the worries from her brain. She instead tried to concentrate on Rarity’s panicking. Nothing came to mind as to what she could do to help her, though. Fluttershy sighed and sat down next to Ironside, deep in thought about the safety of her friends.

Back in the roundhouse, Big Mike, Hildegard, and 2398 all said goodbye to Gallow, who gave each engine a farewell kiss on the smokebox before heading off to Twilight’s. Once the little pony was out of sight, Mike let out a heavy sigh of relief. The move took Hildegard by surprise. “Why so relieved?” she asked.

“Well, I didn’t want her to hear what I have to tell you two,” the Santa Fe replied. The two Atlantics rolled forward so that their smokeboxes were close to Mike’s. “That freight we took wasn’t supposed to leave for another two hours,” he whispered. 2398 rolled back in surprise, knocking his tender against another shelf, which promptly fell over.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked.

“I’m not,” Mike replied, “The freight was scheduled to leave at 10:00.”

“Why would you do that?!” yelled Hildegard, “You threw the schedules out the window and risked an inexperienced engineer losing the entire train?!” She angrily let off steam from her cylinders, causing the entire stall to be filled with steam.

“I…” Mike began. He just now realized how dumb he was to let Gallow try her hoof at running a full-size freight train without her having any prior experience in railroading.

“I thought that maybe railroading was her calling,” Mike said finally, “I’m sure that the creature hanging from a hangman’s noose isn’t the kind of cutie mark she wanted.”

“What, you were trying to change her cutie mark?” asked 2398.

“It’s possible, 2398,” Mike responded, “You know that.”

“I know,” 2398 said, “But it’s a real rarity.”

“Still, think about it. The poor little girl’s been stuck with that mark since her parents died. Don’t you want her to have a cutie mark that represents her true calling and not just a tragic episode in her life?” 2398 looked back down at his buffer beam, mulling over what Mike had said.

“Look, Mike,” Hildegard whispered, “I’m glad your heart was in the right place, but cutie marks are formed when a pony discovers what his or her true talent is. They must find this true talent on their own.”

“Not only that,” piped up 2398, “But very few ponies ever find that their true talent is railroading. Ironside just happened to be one of those whose talent was just that.”

Mike sighed and rolled back against the fallen shelf behind him. “I’m the one Ironside’s going to kill.”

“You’re going to confess?” Hildegard asked.

“I have to. I can’t let him believe that Gallow was to blame for the accident. Besides, this was all my idea from the get-go,” the Santa Fe replied. He looked over at Hildegard, who wore a worried expression. Mike simply chuckled. “It’s going to be OK, Hildegard,” he said, “I’m a 160-ton locomotive. He can’t do much harm to me.” Hildegard softly laughed to herself too.

Then, in a twist worthy of Hitchcock himself, 2398 turned to the readers of this story. “Hey folks, you won’t be seeing us three making much of an appearance in the next few chapters. This story is about little Gallow, so we’ll instead see how her time with the Mane 6 (as you call Twilight and her friends) goes. Don’t worry, we’ll still be present in the story, but more as background characters, just like those two ponies…um, what were their names? Oh yeah, Lyra and Bon-Bon!”

Mike and Hildegard stared at 2398, then at the readers. “Dude,” Mike said, “You just broke the fourth wall…”

“Naw, I do it all the time!” Pinkie Pie replied.

“How the [bleep] did you get in here?!” Mike shouted. Pinkie just turned to the readers and winked.

Author's Note

Random ending, I know

Reading Up On It

What Big Mike, Hildegard, and 2398 didn’t know was that Gallow had heard every word of what they said. She knew that they were bound to start talking when they thought she wasn’t within telepathic earshot, so she now knew the whole reason behind her test drive on the freight train. While she was touched by the fact that Big Mike cared so much for her and was eager to help her find her true calling, she was at the same time disappointed and worried by the utter failure of the whole experiment. With the railway officials soon to find out about the crash, she worried that Mike would get in serious trouble if they found out that he was behind it. She also worried about what would happen to her if Mike told the officials that she was behind the throttle, and she didn’t even want to think about what Ironside would say.

Knowing what she had to do, she quickly trotted back to the library. Twilight and Spike were eating lunch in the café about a block or so away, so Gallow simply waited outside the main entrance of the library. She didn’t bother knocking, since Owlowiscious was likely to still be asleep. Instead, she began to think about what her true calling could be. For the next half-hour, she pondered about what she was good at, what she seemed to have a particular interest in, etc, but nothing came to mind. Her thoughts were briefly interrupted by the high-pitched whistle of the sleeper car train pulling into the Ponyville depot, which indicated to her that the investigation was soon to begin once Ironside submitted the report to the officials.

Before she could refocus her thoughts, Twilight and Spike returned from the café. “Hello, Gallow,” said the familiar purple unicorn, “What’re you doing back so soon? Did you get a chance to talk to Ironside?”

“No,” replied Gallow, “He was with some of the rich ponies testing the new sleeper car. I just chatted with his engines in the roundhouse for a while.”

“Oh, really?” asked Twilight, “Because Rarity and Fluttershy were on that train too.”

“Well that must’ve made for some interesting conversation,” replied Gallow.

“Did you need anything from the library at all?” asked Spike.

“Actually,” said Gallow in a soft voice, “Is it OK if I stay with you guys for a while? I can’t really stay in the roundhouse with Ironside.”

“Of course, Gallow,” Twilight responded with a smile, “You can stay as long as you need to.” Relieved to hear this, Gallow followed Twilight and Spike into the tree.

“So what did you and the engines talk about?” asked Spike as the three entered the reading area.

“Oh, well we mainly talked about what my true calling might be.”

“You know,” Spike replied, “You should talk to Sweetie Belle, Applebloom, and Scootaloo about that sort of thing.”

“Who’re they?” asked Gallow.

“They call themselves the Cutie Mark Crusaders, or CMC for short,” replied Twilight, “Sweetie Belle and Applebloom are Rarity and Applejack’s sisters, respectively, and Scootaloo is Rainbow Dash’s 'sister'.”

“Not to mention her biggest fan,” Spike put in.

“Yeah, that too,” chuckled Twilight. Scootaloo and Rainbow Dash aren't biological sisters, but Scoots often sees Dash as a big sister.

“What do they do?” asked Gallow.

“They mainly get involved in antics that deal with trying to find their true talents,” replied Spike.

“Their antics cause trouble from time to time,” said Twilight, trying to dampen the actual impact of the CMC’s antics, “but they mean well.”

Gallow thought for a while before asking, “Did they ever try railroading?” Spike and Twilight paused, and then looked nervously at each other.

“Um, actually, yeah they did,” Spike sighed.

“Judging from your reactions to my question, I’m assuming that it didn’t go well,” Gallow stated.

“Understatement right there,” replied Twilight, “Ironside almost dropped dead from the result.”

“Why, what was the result?” asked Gallow.

“Two engines backed through the walls of the roundhouse, and one in the turntable well,” replied Spike. Suddenly, Gallow thought that the freight in the gorge wasn’t so bad an accident after all.

“I’m guessing that Ironside didn’t forgive them for that, huh?” said Gallow.

“Not true, said Twilight, “He did forgive them.”

“Yeah, after having them clean out the ashpit and the coal tipple,” Spike put in, “Which they were, ironically, all too eager to do.”

“You make it sound like they’re desperate to get their cutie marks,” Gallow pointed out.

“Not at all,” Spike retorted, “They just try to make adventures out of every opportunity they have at trying to gain their marks. That’s why I thought you might enjoy hanging around with them.”

Gallow looked at the morbid mark on her flank. “Yeah, um, I don’t think they’d accept me because of the mark I already have.” Twilight and Spike looked at the mark too. Spike shuddered from the image, and Twilight stepped back slightly.

“I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me sooner, but wouldn’t that mark have washed off in the shower?” asked Spike. But Gallow had already planned for this.

“Oh, one of the unicorns decided to magically draw it,” she replied, “But she didn’t know that she was using a spell that would make it permanent. Think of it as an accidental tattoo.” The story worked: both Twilight and Spike seemed convinced.

“Well, getting off the topic of the morbid mark,” said Twilight, “You said you were talking to the engines about finding your true calling.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Well, books are often a really great way to start finding your interests. Just browse the shelves and see which books catch your eye.”

“OK.”

“Let me know if you need any help getting books from the upper shelves,” said Twilight.

“Will do,” replied Gallow.

With that in mind, Gallow began browsing the shelves of the library; keen to find what books might pique her interests. She looked at Equestrian history, world history, equine philosophy, human philosophy (particularly Plato), classical magic, alchemy, classical physics, chemistry, herbology, biology, medicine, equine and human anatomy, psychology, classical literature, music, railroads and locomotives, automobiles, aircraft, ships, astrology, astronomy, nuclear physics, radiochemistry, optometry, taxidermy, Roman law, Equestrian mythology, Greek mythology, Roman mythology, Nordic mythology, Egyptian mythology, and the Kama Sutra (don’t ask).

Out of the multitude of books that came off of and were put back onto the shelves, only anatomy, biology, taxidermy, classical magic, and chemistry remained on the table. Gallow asked for some bookmarks, which Twilight happily gave. Gallow then set about placing a bookmark in various sections of each book. While they didn’t seem to have any sort of pattern, Gallow had actually marked sections in each book that all shared something in common. What that something was, only she knew.

Ironside trotted in unexpectedly as Gallow inserted the last bookmark into the classical magic book. “Hello, Cecilia,” he said as he passed by. Gallow jumped in surprise. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” the Pegasus pony quickly relented, “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“It’s OK, Mr. Ironside,” Gallow replied, “I was just really concentrated on my studies.”

“What’re you studying?” Ironside asked.

“Basically, I’m trying to find my true calling,” the filly replied.

“Oh, well good luck with that,” said Ironside, patting his hoof on her shoulder. He then turned to Twilight. “Hey Twi?” asked the colt.

“Yes?” replied Twilight. “Could you and Spike come with me to the shops, please?”

“What do you need?” asked Spike.

“Well, Big Mike appears to have lost one of the bolts connecting his grates to the levers that control them. He ended up dumping his fire. Think you guys could help me shape a new bolt?” At that he produced a long metal rod resting along his right wing.

“OK, sure,” said Spike, always eager to put his fiery breath to good use.

“Of course, Iron,” Twilight responded. “Alright, let’s go. Hey Gallow?”

“Yeah?” asked the filly.

“We’ll be back in a bit, OK?” said Twilight.

“OK, I’m not going anywhere,” replied Gallow. With that, the two ponies and dragon left the library for the shops.

“OK, Spike,” said Ironside as they approached the anvil in the shops, “I need you to heat up the rod with your flame. Once it’s red-hot, Twilight, you’ll use the hammer to flatten out the head. Understood?”

“Yes,” Twilight affirmed. Spike prepared his breath, but was too excited to remember one slight detail…

Princess Celestia sat in her chair in the royal banquet hall, sipping her afternoon tea. “Luna, dear, could you pass the sugar please?” she asked her sister from halfway down the table.

“How many lumps do you want?” asked Luna. Before Celestia could answer, however, a long steel rod appeared above her head. It fell down on her cranium with a resounding CLANG!!! Luna watched, bug-eyed, as her sister keeled over, unconscious.

Twilight, Spike, and Ironside stared bug-eyed and slack-jawed at the spot where the steel bar was just sitting. No pony said a word. For two whole minutes, the three of them stood around the anvil, trying to process what had just transpired. And if that wasn’t surprising enough, the first words to come out of Spike’s mouth after the two-minute silence were, “Oh. Shit.”

The Rail-Kiosk (A Day with Pinkie)

While Spike, Ironside, and Twilight Sparkle stood in utter shock around the anvil that was now missing the iron rod, which itself was currently resting on the unconscious Celestia’s head, Gallow had realized that she forgot to eat lunch. Realizing that the restaurant would more than likely be crowded with customers due to the lunchtime rush, she decided instead to make a beeline for the Cake’s residence, but not before writing a note to Twilight that she’d be out for a while.

Gallow trotted over to Sugarcube Corner, waving to Applejack as she passed by the latter’s apple cart set up just outside the house. Applejack waved back, happy to see the filly enjoying herself today. The front door to the Corner was open, indicating that the Cakes were in today. Gallow watched with delight upon entering as Pound and Pumpkin frolicked around on the floor beside the counter where Mr. Cake was standing. “Why, hello there, Ms. Drop,” said the friendly father as Gallow approached the counter.

“Hello, Mr. Cake,” she replied, “I actually haven’t eaten lunch, but I didn’t want to wait at the restaurant. So, would it be too much to ask if I ate here?”

“Not at all, dear,” Carrot said, “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, some cupcakes would be nice,” Gallow said.

Carrot sighed and smiled. Pinkie’s cupcakes were always the talk of the town, so it was no surprise that Gallow would come in for some as well. While Carrot went upstairs to fetch Pinkie, Gallow spent some time playing with the babies. Their father returned with a confused look on his face. “I’m sorry Gallow,” he said, “But I can’t find Pinkie. She wasn’t upstairs and she’s not in the kitchen either.” Gallow scratched her head, wondering what Pinkie could be up to. Knowing that crazy little pink pony, she could be hanging around with one of her friends, or causing random mayhem (all in the name of good fun, of course).

“Well, thanks anyway,” Gallow replied.

“Actually, Gallow, I just remembered something,” Carrot started, “She might be by the railyard. She told me she was working on a project that involved some heavy machinery.”

“What would Pinkie need with heavy machinery?” Gallow asked.

“Search me,” responded Carrot, “But you know Pinkie. Whenever a crazy idea pops into her head, she just has to make it come to life.”

“Ha-ha, yeah, I know,” said Gallow with a laugh.

“Well, see if you can get her to come back to the house,” said Carrot, “I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to lay off her project for a few moments to cook up something for you.”

“OK, thanks!” called Gallow as she headed off towards the yard.

Sure enough, there seemed to be some commotion going on in the shops of the yard. Gallow simply assumed Pinkie was running around grabbing whatever materials she needed for her “project,” but that actually wasn’t the case. Ironside, Spike, and Twilight galloped around the anvil screaming and with crazed looks on their faces. Simply put, they were all having panic attacks. Not surprising, seeing as how they KNOCKED PRINCESS CELESTIA UNCONSCIOUS WITH A STEEL ROD! “Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!” screamed Twilight, “We’ve just knocked out the Princess!” Spike was now lying curled up in the fetal position and sucking his thumb. Ironside stared blankly into space, looking like he had just been given the death sentence.

“Luna’s going to kill me…” he whispered, his voice trailing off.

“You think Luna’s your biggest problem?!” screamed Twilight, “Celestia is going to whip my flank with a wooden board when she wakes up!”

“Which gives me exactly three hours to fire up one of my engines and get us out of here,” Ironside replied.

“I’m still waiting on my new bolt!” called Big Mike from inside the roundhouse.

“Screw that!” Ironside called back.

Realizing that the commotion inside wasn’t Pinkie, Gallow began wandering around the yard, looking for an indication that Pinkie had been in the area. She found some pieces of scrap metal, along with what looked like the remains of an old mining engine. The mining engine was actually pretty intact; Gallow could make out the three compressed-air cylinders and running gear. But it seemed to have been buried under a mountain of various pieces of wood. There was suddenly a sound of hammering, which took Gallow by surprise. Jumping back, she realized the sound was coming from the opposite side of the engine. She slowly trotted around to the right-hand side; hoping whatever was on this side wasn’t belligerent. “Hi there, Gallow!” called the familiar pink pony.

“Hey Pinkie,” said Gallow, “What’re you doing with the mining engine and the wood.”

“I’m building a rail-kiosk,” Pinkie replied.

“Rail-kiosk?” asked Gallow, “What for?”

“It’s to help sell goodies to the ponies working in the railyard,” Pinkie replied.

“How so?” asked Gallow.

“Well, there are plenty of tracks running through the yard here and through the machine shop. I can sell the Cakes’ goods to the workers for a cheap price and get more customers, not to mention more profit for the Cakes. Children are expensive, y’know?” Pinkie explained.

“Well, is there anything I can help you with?” asked Gallow.

“Actually, yes, there is,” Pinkie responded, “I hope it’s not too much to ask if you could help me get this wooden body formed around the engine.”

“Aren’t you just going to attach it to the engine already?” Gallow inquired.

“No, silly,” Pinkie replied, “I gotta paint the engine up before attaching the body. I can’t drive a rusty old mining engine around! It’s gotta look cheerful and happy!” Gallow shrugged; when it came to Pinkie, either it looked like a party or it looked like a funeral parlor.

Gallow found a rotary saw not far from the mining engine and began taking measurements of the engine’s dimensions. She then took pieces of wood and began sketching portions of the engine’s shape in pencil, then cutting the wood along those lines. Pinkie stopped and stared wide-eyed at Gallow as the latter showed wonderful skill at cutting the individual pieces. Once she finished that, she and the still stunned Pinkie took to restoring the engine’s livery. Initial inspection showed that the engine was in good condition cosmetically speaking, but it needed touching up in several places. Gallow asked Pinkie if the latter was content with the current cream color of the engine, which she was. Gallow then galloped into the shops, returning a while later with a can of paint that matched the engine’s livery exactly.

As Gallow began touching up and restoring the engine’s paint, Pinkie couldn’t help but ask, “How’d you know all that carpentry you just did? I’ve never seen a filly work with construction so well.”

Gallow looked at her and smiled. “My father was a carpenter before his death,” she said in a soft voice.

“Wait, your father’s dead?” asked Pinkie in shock. Here Gallow’s smile faded, replaced by a pained look. She took a deep breath and recounted the story of her parents’ death in the train crash that occurred a month ago. She also told Pinkie that that was how she met Ironside. She was about to recount her various suicide attempts, but Pinkie held up her hoof to stop her. “Please, don’t tell me anymore,” she said, nearly sobbing.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gallow relented.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Pinkie replied, “It’s just, you don’t want to see me when I’m depressed. It’s enough to make a pony cry.”

Gallow smiled and nodded her head. “I know. Ironside told me about what happens when you get depressed.”

“He thinks he’s too depressing to be around me,” Pinkie said, “Yet he’s helped me out of it on more than one occasion.” Gallow looked over towards the shops, where Ironside, Twilight, and Spike were now rolling around as their mental integrities continued to fall. “He’s got his funny moments, too,” said Pinkie, looking at them with a smile.

“Yeah, he does,” replied Gallow with a similar smile.

“He’s a really good friend, Gallow,” Pinkie stated, “I don’t know why he doesn’t seem to think that.”

“Maybe he has trouble seeing the good he has in him,” the unicorn replied.

“Well, I hope it doesn’t lead to him doing any self-harm…” said the concerned pink pony.

“Yeah, he was lucky the last time,” Gallow whispered under her breath.

“What was that?” asked Pinkie.

“Nothing,” replied Gallow.

Test Drive

With the paint of the mining engine now looking factory-fresh, Gallow and Pinkie finally set about fitting the wooden components of the kiosk around the engine. The little loco sat low to the ground, which was ideal for the cramped quarters of the mineshafts it was designed for. This meant that Pinkie could fit a tall kiosk on top of it without having to worry about clearance issues. In the meantime, Pinkie had found various cans of wood varnish in the car shops next to the machine shop. She then started painting the varnish on the external surfaces of the wood, making sure not to stain the paint of the loco. Gallow gave her tips to ensure best coverage.

The two ponies stepped back to admire their work. The roof of the kiosk itself stood ten feet in the air; tall enough for Pinkie to walk around in, yet still short enough to clear the roofs of the rail-yard’s buildings. There was more than enough room inside for Pinkie to climb over the compressed-air tanks without much difficulty, and the fact that the mining engine was powered by air meant that there was practically no risk of the thing getting dirty. The shelves along the kiosk’s sides were well-protected by the overhang of the roof, ensuring top-quality goods even in less-than-ideal weather conditions.

“Well, I’d say that’s a job well done,” Gallow said, grinning.

“Alright, now get in!” Pinkie said, jumping into the engine’s cab.

“Wait, what?” asked Gallow.

“We have to test-drive the darn thing, silly,” Pinkie pointed out, “There’s no point to this if it doesn’t even run!”

“Then why’d we go through all the trouble of building it if we’re not even sure it runs?!” Gallow exclaimed.

Pinkie thought about it for a moment, then shrugged and said, “It looked in good enough condition to me.” Gallow sighed and rolled her eyes before stepping into the cab.

Inside, the cab looked a bit less like any other cab Gallow had seen before. The Johnson bar reverser was still on the right-hand side, with the brake handle next to it. The throttle was located in the center of the backhead, however, similar to more European-style locomotives. There was no firebox, no water glasses, and no brake gauges. There were still pressure gauges: one for the air tanks and the other for the valve chests on the cylinders. And unlike most locomotives where the brakes were actuated by either air or vacuum, the mining engine’s brakes were mechanical. This wasn’t supposed to be an issue, though, since the engine was light and slow enough to not require a stronger braking system. Gallow hoped, however, that the addition of the kiosk would not increase the engine’s weight beyond the brakes’ capacity.

“Can you tell if it works?” asked Pinkie.

“I’m not really sure,” Gallow replied, “There’s no noise made by these compressed-air engines until they’re actually moving.” She looked at the tanks’ pressure gauge. “Well, at least we have pressure. We should be able to get a few miles out of her.”

“Alright then, let’s go for it!” said Pinkie. Gallow pushed the Johnson bar forward, pulled the brake handle back, and pushed the throttle into the full-left quadrant. A loud hiss of air issued from the tanks, followed by the same sound from the cylinders. With a lurch, the mining engine jumped forward before grinding to a halt. “What the…?” asked Pinkie.

“Oh, oops,” said Gallow sheepishly. Realizing that she had accidentally applied the brakes, she pushed the brake handle forward.

It was around this time that Gallow realized that opening the throttle all the way before releasing the brakes was not the best idea. Now freed from the brakes, the engine’s wheels spun wildly before catching the rails, at which point the engine quickly accelerated down the track, knocking the two ponies off their hooves. Gallow quickly jumped back up and shut off the throttle. The engine began to coast, but was still flying down the track at a relatively high speed. Gallow grabbed the brake handle and pulled it back once more. The brake shoes instantly clamped down on the wheels, causing sparks to fly. Realizing the serious fire hazard, she re-released the brakes, stopping the sparks. This time, Gallow pumped the brakes, trying to stop the runaway engine without accidentally setting fire to the kiosk on top. As she did so, the entire machine rocked back and forth uncontrollably. “I don’t think [grunt] this is [grunt] what you [grunt] had in mind [grunt], huh Gallow?” asked Pinkie as the engine rocked. Gallow simply shook her head. Her technique worked, though. She had the engine under control and soon brought it to a stop.

“Well, that was intense,” Gallow stated, “I think this shows that you shouldn’t drive this thing too fast around the shops.”

“Aww, but there’s a lot of mouths to feed!” Pinkie whined.

“I know, but you can’t brake suddenly when going fast,” replied Gallow, “You saw how much sparking there was from the brake shoes.”

“What about what you just did with pumping the brakes?” asked the pink pony.

“Not recommended,” Gallow said, “It might shake the whole kiosk apart, and you’ll likely have a case of flying pastries.” Gallow looked back to the pressure gauge. It didn’t seem like their little adventure had cost them much in terms of compressed air. “Do you know how to drive a locomotive?” Gallow asked.

“Nope,” Pinkie responded.

“Well, it’s a skill you’ll definitely want to learn before starting up the business,” the unicorn said with a small laugh.

“It doesn’t seem too hard,” Pinkie replied, “I mean there aren’t too many controls to memorize.”

“Just be glad we’re using a mining engine and not a full-blasted steamer,” Gallow stated.

“Yeah, I’ve been in 2398’s cab enough times to know how much of a pain in the flank that is,” Pinkie replied. Gallow explained each control to Pinkie in detail, giving tips she learned from Ironside like using cut-off on the valve gear to save air (or steam in a steam engine’s case). She also recommended limiting the speed of the engine to about 15 mph, since engines like this one weren’t likely to be used for fast operations.

With the lecture over, Pinkie took over for Gallow and drove the mining engine out of the yard. “So, are we going to pick up some pastries from the Corner?” asked Gallow.

“Yep,” came Pinkie’s answer.

“Um, the tracks don’t go all the way into town. You know that, right?” asked Gallow.

“I know. They end right about…” There was a crash as the engine smashed through the buffers at the end of the rails and skidded across the ground.

“PIIIIIINKIIIIIIEEE!!!” Gallow screamed as the engine slid. Ponies trotting along the streets of town jumped this way and that in panic as the runaway rail-kiosk rolled by. The engine smashed whatever it ran into: carts, tables, chairs, and even Applejack’s stand! Luckily, AJ wasn’t on duty at the time, though it’s safe to assume that she flipped the shit when she saw what befell her apple stand. Meanwhile, Pinkie wasn’t even phased by what was going on. In all honesty, she seemed to be enjoying her little joyride through Ponyville. Gallow, on the other hand, felt her heart skip a few beats.

Perhaps it was luck, or perhaps Pinkie has some weird hue about her that makes physics and nature work in screwed up ways, but the rail-kiosk ended up stopping right in front of Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie gingerly hopped out of the cab and skipped into the shop, singing “The Ballad of Casey Jones” (another gift from Ironside) and skipping in tempo with the song. Gallow, who had been hugging the backhead of the engine like her life depended on it, finally felt safe enough to let go. Her stride was very uneven and unstable; not surprising given her roller-coaster of a ride on the engine. Pinkie came back in no time at all with a tray of cupcakes balanced on her poofy hair, still singing “Casey Jones.” She slid the cupcakes into the shelves, and then trotted back inside for more. After only about five minutes, the shelves on both sides of the kiosk were filled with various assortments of pastries. And using her crazy Pinkie powers, she backed the mining engine towards the shops, following the grooves the engine had already dug in the ground during its joyride.

Once the engine was back on actual rails, Pinkie took off in the engine to deliver her goods to the workers and pay a visit to Ironside, who I should point out was still suffering from a lack of mental integrity. To be fair, Gallow wasn’t in much better condition. Having hopped off the engine, she sat down on a pile of crossties and stared blankly into space. “Nothing in the world makes sense anymore,” she said to herself.

“With Pinkie, nothing ever does,” said 2398 as he rolled by.

A Special Coach

With Pinkie now busy with the rail-kiosk, Gallow decided that lunch plans were down the toilet. Not surprising, seeing as how she and Pinkie had spent the past three hours assembling the darn thing. The sun was now setting on the horizon, so Gallow figured that she should find some dinner. It would be nice, Gallow thought, to at least eat with somepony I know. Of course, Twilight, Spike, and Ironside were still in the same place they’d been for the past three hours, and it didn’t look like they were leaving anytime soon. So, Gallow headed for the familiar carousel-shaped house near the center of town.

Remember how Rarity was having a panic attack when she learned that she lost her fabrics in the freight train accident? Well, she was still having one. In fact, she had never stopped having the one that started on the sleeper car. As in, she was going through her “Worst Possible Thing” routine for the fifteenth time and actually had her couch carried across the street from the station to her house while she performed the routine on the couch. [facepalm] In any case, her condition had not improved, and it was now becoming an annoyance to both Sweetie Belle and Opalescence.

After watching her owner for about five minutes, Opal left the room with cotton balls stuffed in her ears. Sweetie Belle was about to do the same, but a knock on the door distracted her. Trotting over, she opened it to find Gallow Drop standing in the doorway. “Hello. May I help you?” Sweetie asked; she had never met Gallow before.

“Yes, um, is Rarity at home right now?” Sweetie pointed her hoof in the direction of her hysterical older sister, of whom Gallow caught a good glimpse. “Rarity, what’s going on? Is everything alright?” Gallow asked. Rarity immediately stopped her routine and looked in the direction of the door.

“Oh, Gallow dear,” Rarity replied, “Yes, um, everything’s fine, heh-heh.” She kicked her couch off to the side with a nervous smile on her face.

“Do you mind if I come in?” Gallow asked.

“Not at all. Come in, come in,” Rarity said, waving her hoof in the “come hither” fashion.

Sweetie Belle stepped aside to let Gallow in. Gallow had never been to Rarity’s house before, so she scanned the whole house as she walked towards Rarity. “What can I do for you, dearie?” asked Rarity as Gallow approached her.

“Well, I was hoping I could find a nice place for dinner,” Gallow replied, “I was going to eat lunch with Pinkie, but we got caught up in her latest project and I lost track of time.”

“Did this project involve a mining engine with a kiosk on top of it?”

“Um, yes…it did.”

“Did it end up running off the rails and smashing whatever was in its path?”

“Yeeeaaahh…”

“Well, that explains Applejack’s mental breakdown.” A sweat drop slid down Gallow’s cheek upon hearing that. Sweetie Belle giggled.

“In any case,” Gallow continued, “Our lunch plans were shot, so I was wondering if you didn’t mind me having dinner with you.”

“Oh, not at all, sweetheart,” replied Rarity, “Let me just gather my bearings and we’ll get cooking.”

Rarity trotted off to wash up before dinner, leaving Gallow and Sweetie Belle alone. “So, what was all that about?” asked Gallow.

“What, you mean the drama on the couch?” replied Sweetie. Gallow nodded. “Oh, she lost some fabrics she needed for her dresses. Something about a train wreck,” Sweetie Belle said. Gallow instantly knew which train wreck Sweetie was referring to, causing another sweat drop to slide down her cheek, followed by an “Oh crap!” expression. Sweetie Belle looked at Gallow in confusion. “You OK?” she asked.

Gallow shook off the shocked expression. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she replied. Sweetie Belle didn’t seem convinced, but she let it go. Rarity soon returned and headed straight for the kitchen. Gallow and Sweetie Belle followed her, both anxious to get munching.

Rarity put on her favorite apron and started boiling the water for the soup. As she did, Gallow decided to get Rarity’s mind off the train wreck and instead asked her, “So, how did the test run of the new sleeper car go?”

Rarity turned her head. “Would you believe that I’m looking into purchasing the car?” she responded with a smile. Gallow and Sweetie Belle’s eyes widened when they heard her say that.

“Really? You’re thinking of buying an actual sleeper car?” Gallow asked, incredulous.

“Do you have any idea how expensive that would be?!” Sweetie Belle shouted.

Rarity just winked. “I’ll have Ironside put in a good word for me. It’s not like they’re going to use it on the railway anyway.”

Gallow raised her eyebrow. “Why not?” she asked.

“It’s much too massive for the existing track,” Rarity replied.

“How would you know that?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“I overheard a couple of the railway officials saying such things during the test,” said Rarity. Here her smile faded. “I’m actually quite sorry for Ironside. He put a lot of time and money into having that car built.”

“Really?” asked Sweetie Belle, “Ironside built it?”

“No, dearie,” Rarity replied, “He got the designs from the castle and brought them here. He paid the coachworks to build the car.”

Rarity then turned her head toward the counter, where a small group of papers and photos sat. Using her magic, she picked them up and set them down on the table. “There you are,” she said to the fillies.

Gallow then used her magic to pick up three manila sheets of paper. These were the blueprints for the car. “Where’d the photos come from?” she asked.

“Ironside got them from the castle as well,” Rarity replied.

As Gallow picked up each one of the photos, her eyes widened. This car was from the world outside of Equestria; the human world. One of the photos showed humans in mourning clothes lined up alongside a train draped from locomotive to end coach in black crepe: a sign of a funeral train. Upon careful inspection, Gallow noticed that the second-to-last car of the train was the sleeper car. Turning to the blueprints, she looked for a sign of the car’s history. She found one clue in Princess Luna’s handwriting on the top of the first page: Pullman Sleeper Car “United States,” Built 1865 in Alexandria, Virginia, United States. Apparently, Luna was aware of the car’s history, but it didn’t make sense to Gallow why she had taken the blueprints of the car. It was well-known that Luna had taken an interest in railroading thanks to her friendship with Ironside, but Gallow didn’t understand why this particular car was so important to them. Looking for more clues, she then had the sense to check the back sides of each page. Again, the first page held the clue.

“This sleeper car was the first constructed by George M. Pullman. It is best known in the human world as the funeral coach of Abraham Lincoln, 16th President of the United States. The coach was to be test ridden by the President on April 15, 1865, which was the day Lincoln died after being shot in the head by actor John Wilkes Booth the night before. The ‘United States’ was reassigned to be the hearse car of the funeral train, which would carry the bodies of President Lincoln and his son Willie back to their home of Springfield, Illinois. The train retraced the route the President had taken to his inauguration in 1861. After the President and his son were buried, the ‘United States’ served more mundane roles until it was destroyed by fire in 1911.”

Gallow took a look at the blueprints of the “United States.” The car was quite exquisite, especially by Equestrian standards. Like the Equestrian coaches, its body was made of wood, but its clerestory roof was straight and flat, unlike the curved roofs of the Equestrian coaches. The body was paneled and sat on four two-axle trucks, indicating that this coach was heavy for the time, probably equivalent to a modern steel-bodied coach. Equestria’s locomotives and rolling stock were pretty small compared to those of the human railways despite being run on similar track gauges, meaning that the sleeper was gigantic for Equestrian rolling stock. Only engines like 2398 or Hildegard were capable of pulling this car without assistance.

As Gallow continued browsing through the pictures and designs of the Lincoln car, a bowl of soup floated down and landed in front of her. “Time to eat, Gallow,” Rarity said, “I’ll let you look more at the car when we’re done eating.”

“Oh, OK,” Gallow replied. Rarity lifted the papers off the table and replaced them on the counter, safe from harm. As the three ponies sipped their soup, though, Gallow couldn’t help but ask, “Um, Rarity, have you even looked at the papers Ironside gave you?”

“Well, just the blueprints,” Rarity replied.

“Because the photos show it being used as a hearse for a human head of state,” Gallow said. Rarity put her spoon down and looked up at Gallow.

“A hearse, you say?” she asked. Gallow nodded. She then lifted the photos back off the counter and laid them in front of Rarity.

Rarity’s expression upon seeing the photos of the Lincoln funeral train was the same as Gallow’s. “I don’t think she’ll want to buy the coach now,” Sweetie Belle whispered to Gallow.

Rarity put the photos down and stared down at the bowl of soup in front of her, deep in thought. “Hmm…” she hummed. Gallow and Sweetie Belle looked at each other, and then back at Rarity. She seemed to be conflicted as to whether or not buying the coach given the original one’s history was such a good idea. “Well,” she said finally, “I think I’ll still purchase it.”

“Really?” asked Gallow.

“Yes,” Rarity replied definitively, “It’s obvious this coach is a very historically important piece of rolling stock. I’m glad Ironside had it built. Perhaps I might be able to use it for its original purpose.”

Gallow seemed content with Rarity’s decision, but she still felt uneasy about the whole thing. Why would Ironside want to replicate a coach with such a morbid history? She worried that bad luck might result from it, and she was especially worried about Rarity purchasing the car. If bad luck did indeed result from it, Rarity would be the first victim for sure…

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to own a sleeper car that was used as a hearse,” Rarity said suddenly, placing her hoof on Gallow’s shoulder. “I’ve heard that there are humans out there who collect motorized hearses.”

Gallow was taken aback by what Rarity just said, but the comforting look the older pony gave her calmed her down. “Is that true?” Gallow asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Rarity replied, “And nothing supernatural ever happened to any of them.”

“In fact,” Sweetie Belle interjected, “Ironside has a bit of that same interest.”

“Really?” asked Gallow.

“Yes,” said Rarity, “And he’s just as superstitious as you.”

Blitz and Sunshine

The sun was now setting on Ponyville. Ironside said goodbye to Twilight and Spike, and the latter two headed for home. Iron, on the other hand, decided that he should visit a couple of friends whom he hadn’t seen for a while. He stepped off of the United States and trotted over to the roundhouse to visit his engines again. It was only now that the weight of the investigation regarding the wrecked freight train started to bear down on him. It was only now that he realized just how hellish his life was going to become. The stress was starting to bear down on him, and he needed to find a way to escape it, and fast!

Stepping inside, he found his three companions sitting silently in their stalls. 2398 looked over to find his driver looking rather disheveled and pretty worn out; the effects of simply thinking about the incoming stresses were quick to appear on the engineer. “You alright, Al?” asked the Bavarian.

Iron looked up at his engine. “I just realized that I need to help investigate the mystery surrounding that freight wreck,” he sighed, “It’s gonna be absolute hell for me until the board figure out what happened with the train, who was behind it, and why it happened.” 2398 looked over to the other engines, giving an especially concerned look to Mike. Hildegard gave a similar glance. Mike didn’t seem to notice; he was staring into space, obviously concentrating on what Ironside had just said. He felt absolutely devastated knowing that he was behind the stress Iron was suffering, as was the little filly that looked up to the engineer.

“Maybe you should give Blitz and Sunshine a visit,” 2398 suggested. It was the answer Ironside was hoping for.

Feigning reluctance, he replied, “OK then…” Big Mike rolled his indicator lights in annoyance; he could often tell when the emotions Iron exhibited were genuine or not. Nevertheless, a good amount of perspiration rolled down his smokebox as the engineer approached. Ironside stopped in front of Hildegard, addressing all three of his engines. “Listen, guys,” he said, “If you know of anything that might pertain to the incident that occurred early this morning, please let me know now. It’ll help all of us in the long run.” All three of the engines looked with pity upon their driver. They knew how stressful his job would become given that this kind of incident was rare but serious. But they didn’t want Gallow to get tangled in such a heavy mess.

2398 spoke up. “Alex, if we knew anything about what happened we’d have told you by now.”

Realizing that to be true, Ironside nodded and replied, “Thanks, guys. That’s all you needed to tell me.”

“Try not to let the stress get to you, mein Kind,” Hildegard said, “We don’t want you getting sickly from such things.”

“Ich verstehe, Hildegard,” the engineer replied, “Danke schön.”

“If anything comes up, we’ll let you know, m’kay?”

“Thanks Mike.” With that, Ironside trotted out of the roundhouse. Once outside, he spread his iron-edged wings and took off into the evening sky. The three engines watched him go, their hearts now ridden with guilt.

Ironside glided towards a very familiar cloud mansion located just outside Ponyville and about 500 feet above it. He was surprised by the lack of company as he approached the house; normally Rainbow Dash was done with her shift and heading home by now. The first thing he could think of was that she was working overtime. Whether Blitz or Sunshine was home, he didn’t know. He just hoped that somepony was there to greet him at the door.

(Now before I go any further, I should point out that Dash, Blitz, and Sunny all live in the same house. If you’ve already figured out what I’m going for here, congratulations. If not, just sit tight and keep reading. Also, I’m not responsible for whatever rages result from the following lines.)

Ironside landed just outside the front door. Giving it a couple of raps, he widened his eyes when it slowly opened as a result. Stepping inside, he looked around for a sign of life. “Um, hello?” he called out, “Dashie? Blitz? Anypony here?” What happened next was Ironside being tackled from the side by a white filly with rainbow hair and purple eyes (catching on yet?).

“Uncle Alex! You’re here!” the filly screamed at the top of her voice while hugging Ironside as tight as she could.

“Urgh, yeah. I’m here, Sunny,” he responded with a grunt. Sunshine gingerly released Ironside from her bear-hug and ran over to fetch her father. “Daddy, Daddy, Uncle Alex is here!”

“Al, that you?” came a voice from inside the living room.

“Yeah, Matt, I’m here,” Iron responded. Matt (or Blitz, as everypony else knew him) stepped out to greet his best friend. He offered his hoof, which Iron took, and pulled the iron-winger into a hug.

“How ya been, buddy? I haven’t seen you in forever!” Blitz said laughing.

“I’ve been doing alright,” Iron replied, “Same old railroad life as always.”

“Have you heard from Mommy yet, Uncle Al?” asked Sunshine as she approached the two pegasi.

“Not yet,” he replied, “I’m assuming she’s still working with the rest of the weather team.”

“That or she’s been practicing her Wonderbolt maneuvers again and lost track of time,” Blitz put in. Ironside nodded.

(Alright, folks, I’m sure you all know what I’ve done here. And all I have to say is…
PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!!!)

Ironside trotted over to the cloud couch and plopped himself down on it. “Rough night, huh, Casey Jones?” Blitz asked.

Iron chuckled at the nickname, “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Isn’t railroading always rough?” asked Sunny.

Iron ruffled her mane. “Not always, kiddo. Not always.”

“But it is this time, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, what happened?” asked Blitz. Taking a deep breath, Iron recounted the incident in as much detail as he could describe. Father and daughter listened intently, and with (not surprisingly) shocked expressions.

“So yeah, Casey Jones has had a rough night,” Ironside finished.

“Holy crap, man!” Blitz exclaimed, “Since when has the Royal Equestrian had an accident that serious?”

“Not since our incident with the City of Manehattan a month ago,” Iron replied.

“Our?” asked Blitz, “You’re the only pony I know who was on that train.”

“You’re forgetting about Gallow, Daddy,” Sunshine said.

“Oh yeah,” Blitz realized, “I forgot about her.”

The conversation was interrupted by the doors bursting open. “I’m home!” called Rainbow Dash.

“Mommy!” exclaimed Sunshine as she flew over to her mother.

“Hey, sweetie!” said Dash as she hugged Sunny.

“’Sup, babe?” asked Blitz as he kissed Dash.

“You’re not gonna believe this, but I actually got to spend the whole day with Spitfire!” she exclaimed.

“Get out!” Blitz yelled incredulously.

“I’m not kidding. I got photos!” Dash brandished a group of Polaroid photos in her hoof. “Wanna see?”

“Hell yeah!” exclaimed Blitz. The two Pegasi ran off into the living room. Ironside didn’t really mind Dash not even noticing he was there. But Sunny didn’t like what she saw. She hopped onto the couch and cuddled up next to him.

“Mommy didn’t even say hi to you,” she moped.

“It’s OK, sweetheart,” Ironside replied, “She wanted to show your dad her day with her idol.” Sunny seemed to accept the explanation, but she still wore a concerned look on her face.

“So, what’ll happen now?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” asked Iron.

“What’ll happen to you with the whole train crash?”

“Oh, that. Well, the railway is starting an investigation into what caused the accident and who might be behind it. It’ll probably involve tighter security measures on all scheduled trains.”

“So, will they be putting guards on the trains or something?”

“They already do that with trains that carry precious cargo, like bullion or heads of state. But they might start putting them on our regularly scheduled trains too.”

“Can’t take any chances, huh?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“You really shouldn’t have anything to worry about,” Sunshine said, “I’ve met the guards at the castle in Canterlot. They’re really kind.”

“I don’t think they’ll be sending royal guards on our trains, even though these are the Royal Equestrian Railways,” Ironside replied, “The royal guards’ duty is to protect and serve the princesses directly. We haven’t been directly connected to them since the royal train was decommissioned.”

“So, what does that mean?” asked Sunny.

“It means that the railways are on their own in terms of looking for guards to hire.”

At that moment, Dash and Blitz called Sunshine into the dining room. She jumped off the couch and trotted over to the doorway, then stopped. “Aren’t you coming with, Uncle Alex?” she asked.

“You go on ahead, Sunny. I’ll be fine,” he replied. Sunshine trotted into the dining room. Ironside lay back and mused over what he and Sunny had discussed. Already he began mentally preparing himself in case he ended up being assigned a guard who was less than suitable for the task assigned. And already he could feel the initial stages of a headache forming. But then his thoughts were interrupted.

“C’mon, Iron,” said Dash, suddenly appearing beside the couch, “We can’t eat until everypony’s at the table.” Ironside smiled and followed her into the dining room.

Santa Fe 1015

In the early hours of the morning, the two princesses stood outside the Ponyville Main Station, awaiting the arrival of their latest acquisition. A Santa Fe Prairie-type (2-6-2) was supposed to be coming at any minute, and they wanted to see the work done to ready the loco for its new life as a main-line engine.

The engine in question was another Baldwin engine: Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe 1015. Like many of his kind before, he was a Vauclain who lost his compound cylinders once the Santa Fe felt that the increased maintenance costs weren’t worth the increased fuel efficiency. Always believing in second chances, Celestia requested that the engine be re-equipped with Vauclain cylinders, and the task was soon carried out. Eager to show his stuff, the Prairie roared past the platform at speed with a fully loaded express train behind him. Celestia and Luna smiled as he blew past; another investment in human technology had paid off.

“Is it going to become a habit of ours to continue purchasing locomotives from the humans?” asked Luna.

“We’ve still got our home-built engines, Sis,” replied Celestia, “We’ve only bought a select few that were deemed best for dealing with the longest and heaviest trains on our railways. Besides, it was either this or rust away as displays outdoors for Big Mike and 1015.”

“I’ve only been back for about four years now, and I still can’t believe how much we’ve come to rely on trains in such a short amount of time,” said Luna.

“I know what you mean,” her sister said, “We are pretty late to the party. I still remember when ponies pulled the carts on the railway. The humans stopped using that technique in the 1830s.”

“You still remember the Rainhill Trials,” pointed out the Princess of the Night.

“Of course I do; I was there,” Celestia replied.

Ironside arrived at the platform, fully rested and eager to try his hoof at running the new engine. He landed behind the Princesses just as Celestia reminded Luna that the former was an eyewitness to one of the greatest events in railroading history. Not surprisingly, “You witnessed the Rainhill Trials?!” came the exclamation. Celestia and Luna both jumped about three feet into the air. Both wheeled around the moment they landed. “Oops, sorry,” said the engineer sheepishly.

“I have to get used to you popping up out of nowhere whenever I start mentioning trains,” said Celestia.

“Heh, you know me,” Ironside replied, “I’m attracted to trains like iron to a magnet.”

Meanwhile, 1015 backed down towards the platform. It had been a long time since he’d been able to run under his own power, and even longer since he got to run as a compound. His new 79-inch drivers shone in the morning sun. Ever since his conversion to simple expansion, he and his brethren had had to run with smaller 69-inch drivers. He never really understood why the change was necessary; in fact, he’d felt a whole lot slower when running as a simple. But since Celestia insisted on him being rebuilt to as-built dimensions (but retaining his superheater), he regained his compound cylinders and his larger drivers. “Now I feel like a proper express engine again!” he exclaimed.

The Princesses and the engineer watched as the engine halted in front of the station. The guard who had been piloting hopped down from the cab covered from mane to hooves in sweat. Ironside was shocked at the sight, not from how sweaty the guard was, but from the fact that he had been operating the engine in the first place. “Uh, why was a guard driving the engine?” he asked.

“As of right now, we can’t risk any damaged rolling stock, especially not a brand-new locomotive,” Luna replied.

“Yeah, but, one of the Royal Guards? Really?” asked Iron.

“Don’t worry, son,” the guard stated, “I’ve been given some rudimentary training in operating steam engines. You’re the one doing the actual test run for the engine.”

“Oh, alright then,” replied Iron, very relieved.

“Don’t depart just yet, Ironside,” Celestia said, “Silver here is still going to be on board for the run.”

“Alright,” the engineer replied, “As long as I’m not being bothered while driving the train, I’m fine with that.”

“I’ll just be standing guard and that’s all,” Silver said.

Ironside hopped into the cab of 1015. It was spacious and comfortable, and not very different from Big Mike’s cab. All the controls were in their usual locations, and there was even a speedometer on the backhead (for some reason, many locomotives did not have speedometers. The engineer was supposed to judge the engine’s speed on his own). “Hello, 1015,” Iron said as he ran his hooves along the controls.

“Morning, sir,” the engine replied, “Are you my new driver?”

“Indeed I am,” the pony responded, “I’m Ironside.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Shall we get started?” asked the Prairie. His answer came in the form of Ironside blasting his whistle twice.

1015 crawled slowly out of the station, his cylinders shooting steam as he went. Unfortunately for the princesses, that resulted in them getting soaked in condensed steam and water (and some cylinder oil). On a brighter note, they both were now glistening and wet, and Iron decided to go the extra mile by blowing a wolf whistle at them from 1015. While Luna was barely, if at all amused, Celestia had a devious smile form on her snout. Ironside cackled as he opened the throttle and roared off down the main line.

Once all of 1015’s pipes were nice and warm, he settled into a steady chug. He could cruise like this all day long, but because this was his test run, he’d be doing anything but. The first test was his brakes. Ironside opened the throttle wide, and 1015 shot off like a rocket down the track. Once he reached 60 mph, Iron shut off steam and threw the brakes into full emergency; this was supposed to simulate a worst-case scenario, as all Equestrian trains were limited to 60 on the main line. 1015’s wheels locked and he skidded across the rails for about a mile or two before stopping. During this time, the inertia of the ponies in the cab threw them forward. Iron at least had the throttle and Johnson bar to support him, but Silver almost smashed head-long into the backhead. He glared at the engineer. “Next time, give me a little warning so you don’t kill me,” he growled. Iron looked away embarrassed, realizing that he’d forgotten to signal “Down brakes” with the whistle.

Next would have been the emergency reversing test, in which Iron would accelerate the engine up to speed again, then reverse the valve gear and get the driving wheels to either lock or spin backwards. But Ironside remembered that Vauclain compounds don’t take very well to being reversed at speed. With that in mind, he then proceeded to test 1015’s hill-climbing capabilities. Now, being a passenger engine, the Prairie was not likely to be very good at climbing grades that Big Mike would have no trouble climbing, but the railways were quite hilly in certain sections, especially in the Canterlot vicinity. 1015 was planned to be the newest express loco, meaning he would be traveling all over the Equestria mainland. While most of the hilly areas on the lines would have helper engines assigned to work those sections, Canterlot was one of the few that did not. And since the capitol city of Equestria was a natural hotspot for commuters and vacationers alike, many trains were forced to climb the hill without helper engines.

Always trying to remain a realist when it came to trains, Ironside requested that 1015 be equipped with a laypony’s idea of an express train. Being built for ponies instead of humans, the coaches were smaller and lighter than their counterparts, making them much easier for 1015 to haul. Since he didn’t want passengers on board for fear of injury from the rigorous testing, Ironside had more coaches added onto the train to simulate the weight of the ponies that would normally be on board. As a result, 1015 had to start up the grade slowly to avoid snapping a coupler. Driver, guard, and engine were apprehensive. 1015’s large drivers were meant to allow fast running, but they also cut down on friction, making traction on an incline harder to retain. If he slipped too much on the grade, 1015 would run the coaches into each other, and because of their light weight, very likely derail them.

Ironside kept one hoof on the throttle, and the other on the sand lever. Whenever the drivers slipped, he’d have to shut off the throttle and apply more sand to the rails to increase traction. 1015 hoped that his weight distribution on the drivers would help with the decreased traction, and it did to a small extent. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before he began to slip. Sure enough, Ironside dropped more sand on the rails to keep the traction up. The Prairie caught the rails and once more climbed the grade.

It was a slow and tedious process. 1015 kept a steady pace, but the slippage was frequent, and Ironside began to worry that he’d be out of sand before reaching the summit. Already they had come close twice to losing traction altogether and running backwards into the coaches. Both ponies were covered in sweat and coal dust, both from working the fire and from the stress. About half a mile from the summit, Ironside decided to gun it and see what happens. He opened the sand up once more, and then opened the throttle wide. 1015’s wheels surprisingly didn’t slip. Instead, they gripped, and the Prairie’s steady chuffs slowly grew faster and faster until the locomotive was literally roaring up the line. The couplings held. Realizing that the test was already a success, Ironside held down the whistle cord, letting 1015 sing with joy at the feat they’d accomplished.

“We could hear you all the way from over here,” Celestia beamed as Ironside and Silver disembarked from the engine.

“And I thought 1015 was supposed to chuff softly,” Luna chuckled. You couldn’t tell, but 1015 was smiling from running board to running board.

“He’s all set to go,” Ironside said, “I’ve never driven an express engine without helpers up the Canterlot Climb before; 2398 only does double-headers on that stretch.”

“You pass, 1015,” Celestia said to the engine.

“Well, I didn’t exactly ace the exam,” he replied, “I slipped quite a few times on the climb.”

“That’ll happen to any engine, even with helpers,” Celestia responded, “What you did today is one for the history books.”

“Thank you, Princess,” said 1015, “That means a lot to me.”

That evening, Iron backed 1015 into the Canterlot roundhouse for the night. He was one of only two engines who had a permanent stall here; the other was 2398. Many Equestrian locos were already tucked in for the night, so the Prairie didn’t have to worry about feeling lonely. “Hey Iron?” said the engine.

“Yeah?” replied the pony.

“I’m pretty certain any Baldwin like me could’ve made that climb look easy.”

“Why?”

“Because the rolling stock here isn’t as big as the ones back home. A small string of empties here is like running light for us.”

“It doesn’t matter, 1015. You proved yourself worthy to be part of the Equestrian Railways. You’ve got a home now. That’s all that matters.”

Author's Note

Warning: technical jargon

Rather Unexpected

Rarity had gotten Sweetie Belle and Gallow Drop up early that morning. Both arose groggily from their beds, annoyed that Rarity wanted them to get busy so early. Aside from making breakfast, she needed them to help set up the boutique for the day’s patrons, especially for Rainbow Dash.

“I’ve got a new dress design that I simply must have her model,” she announced to the fillies.

“And what kind of dress is it this time?” asked Sweetie Belle in a half-drowsy, half-annoyed voice.

“I’m going with a Roman consul design, dear,” her older sister replied.

“You mean, like, with a helmet and body armor?” asked Gallow.

“Ehm, not quite,” said Rarity, “That’s a gladiator. Still Roman style, but Dash wouldn’t be able to fly with all that metal on her.”

“You could always just use plastic armor painted like bronze,” Sweetie Belle suggested.

Rarity shot an offended look at her. “Sweetie Belle! How cheap do you think I am?!”

“I was just thinking it’d be more practical,” the little sister replied.

“I spare no expense when it comes to my dresses,” Rarity said in her lofty voice, “If I had to make a dress out of pure gold bullion I’d do it.”

“Really?” asked Gallow.

“Not quite,” Rarity responded, “I’d need some twine to hold it all together.” The two fillies facehooved in response.

Rarity’s Roman consul dress design wasn’t very different from Rainbow Dash’s Grand Galloping Gala dress. It even included the laurel wreath from the latter dress, only this new design would be using real laurel instead of the gold wreath of the Gala dress. Also, the tunic would be a simple white, but the badge attached would bear Rainbow’s cutie mark. The toga that went over it was called a toga picta. It was an embroidered purple toga decorated with gold. Now, since Dash was a Pegasus, Rarity had to make space for wings in the design, but realizing that this would ruin the toga’s shape, she decided it best for Dash to simply fly with just the tunic and wear both when walking. While this dress historically was for human males only, Rarity saw it as suitable for females as well, human or pony.

While Rarity busied herself with the final touches on Dash’s dress, Gallow slipped outside to obtain some lumber for her own newest project. She felt it best to attempt this while she was with Rarity, since the latter had the tools for measuring a pony’s dimensions. Heading over to Lumber Jack’s woodshop, she picked out several planks of pine, oak, cherry, and mahogany, all of various sizes and thicknesses. She also bought woodworking tools, since Rarity had none of those. The fabrics that would line the interiors of these boxes in potentia, however, Rarity had plenty of. Then, with Jack’s help, she hauled all the materials she purchased back to Carousel Boutique.

By this point, both Rarity and Sweetie Belle were working on the dress. So when Gallow and Jack walked in with the mountain of lumber balanced precariously on their front hooves, Rarity didn’t give it a second thought when Gallow asked her if there was an extra room she could do some woodworking in. She just gave a “Yes, darling” in reply.

As soon as Jack bid Gallow “Adieu,” Rainbow Dash flew in, early for once. She was eager to try on the new dress, hoping that Blitz, and somewhere down the line, Spitfire, would be impressed with it. “I felt the Roman consul look would suit you, dear,” Rarity stated, “It gives a very commanding appearance.”

“Aw, yeah!” Rainbow Dash replied.

“Just one thing,” Rarity put in, “You can’t wear the toga if you want to fly.”

“Wait, what?” Dash asked.

“You can wear this, though,” Rarity said, pulling out a toga picta cape.

“Oh, phew, thank Celestia!” Dash replied, “I didn’t want to be wearing just the tunic and the wreath. That’d look too plain.”

“Oh come now, darling,” Rarity responded, “Even the simple tunic was the height of fashion for Roman citizens.”

“Yeah, well we’re not in Rome, so there’s no reason for me to ‘do as the Romans do,’” Dash said.

Before anything else, however, Gallow came galloping out of the side room with a measuring tape. “Dash, Rarity, Sweetie Belle, I hope it’s not too much to ask, but could I measure you guys, please?” she asked in a quick voice.

“Um, sure thing,” Dash replied, somewhat confused.

“OK, but I’ll need you three to stand on your hind legs for this one,” Gallow said. All three ponies assumed what is known as “standard anatomical position” for us humans. Gallow then went to work measuring the distance from ear to ear, ear to shoulder, shoulder to side of hoof, and hoof to hoof for each pony. Taking the measurements down in a notebook, she then ran back into the side room and shut the door.

All three ponies stared at one another, confused. It was only when Gallow stuck her head out and asked Rarity if she had velvet that they thought they knew what she was up to. Rarity went back to assembling the dress, with Dash holding still as she went. Once assembly was finished, Rarity had Dash step onto the three-way mirrored platform. Dash just couldn’t help but smile at what she saw. She spent the next five minutes spinning around, looking at herself from every possible angle in the mirrors, and even decided to impersonate Julius Caesar’s death with Rarity playing Brutus’s role. All the while, Gallow traced, cut, nailed, and lined the containers she planned to show the girls later. While these boxes would normally be more decorated externally than they were, Gallow was just trying to get the feel of things at this point.

Once she was finished, Gallow beckoned the other three ponies into the side room to see what she had accomplished. Given that Gallow had asked her about velvet, Rarity thought that she was about to see a new dress design Gallow had come up with herself. Rainbow Dash and Sweetie Belle thought the same thing, the latter having completely forgotten about the mountain of lumber Gallow had brought in.

Unfortunately, all three ponies were in for a nasty shock. Now, if you paid close attention to Gallow’s measurements, you’d notice that they formed a hexagonal shape. As far as I can tell, there’s only one type of box that requires a form-fitting hexagonal shape and is lined internally with fabric. Sure enough, the first thing the three ponies saw upon entering the room was Gallow standing proudly next to three coffins, each sized for an individual pony.

Not surprisingly, all three ponies’ eyes widened substantially upon seeing the coffins. They were all lined with the velvet Gallow had asked about, and were lined up to mirror where Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Sweetie Belle were standing. “Well, what do you think?” asked Gallow, beaming. Rarity’s right eye began twitching. Rainbow opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Sweetie Belle gave the most obvious response and simply keeled over.

Rarity gave a nervous smile and tried to congratulate Gallow on her work. “It’s…great, darling,” she said, trying to think of what to say next, “It’s just…”

“…why coffins?” Rainbow finally managed to force from her mouth. Gallow’s smile faded. She knew it wasn’t worth the effort to try and impress them with coffins.

“It’s all I could think of,” she softly replied.

Rainbow looked over the pine box that had been built to her specs. “Well, I’m not gonna say you did a bad job, ‘cause you didn’t,” she said as she stood up and backed into it. “In fact, it’s really quite comfortable, not that it’d matter when I actually have to use it,” she continued, giving a soft chuckle. Gallow’s mood didn’t improve.

Rarity looked with pity on the poor filly. “I’m sorry, dear,” she said, placing her hoof on Gallow’s shoulder. Gallow looked up at her.

“It’s not your fault,” she replied, “It was a dumb idea to even attempt this.”

“It wasn’t dumb at all!” Sweetie Belle exclaimed, raising her head up from the floor, “This is a very useful skill.”

“Yeah, Gallow,” Rainbow put in, stepping out of her coffin, “It’s not just useful, it’s a part of life. We need ponies who do this sort of thing when it’s time to lay our loved ones to rest.”

“It’s not exactly the most enjoyable topic,” Gallow replied.

“I know, I know, but it still affects ponies every day. And it’s not very common to find a pony with as much skill as you in building coffins,” Rainbow Dash said.

“Eh, they’re only prototypes,” Gallow said, “I’ve seen coffins with much more ornate shapes than those.”

“They’re very nice for first attempts, darling,” Rarity said, giving hers a try, “And Dashie was right; they are comfy.”

“If you are planning on making a career out of this, you should go for it,” Sweetie Belle said, “A lot of ponies would appreciate you doing this for them.” Gallow seemed unsure.

Rainbow sat down next to her. “Look, kiddo, I know you’ve been plagued with failed suicide attempts and deaths in the family, but death doesn’t necessarily have to play a negative role in your life. I mean, look at me: both of my parents are gone too, but that hasn’t weighed me down at all.” She paused for a bit to let that sink in. “Let Death be your guide instead of your adversary.”

Gallow looked up through the window above the coffins. Through it, to her surprise, she saw a white Pegasus with black wings and mane staring back down at her. In his hooves was a scythe. But instead of giving her a menacing look, young Thanatos smiled down at her, and she could tell it was a legitimate, friendly smile. She finally understood what Dash meant, and smiled back at him. Thanatos waved at her before flying off to do his work. She waved back as he left, and then nuzzled her head against Rainbow Dash’s neck. None of the others saw Thanatos through the window, but they could tell that Gallow was convinced.

Author's Note

Warning: Greco-Roman references

Leaking the Truth

The three engines sat quietly in the Ponyville roundhouse, staring out of their partially open stall doors. Ironside wasn’t supposed to be back until later that day, having spent the night in Canterlot after his test run with 1015. 2398 daydreamed about what he and Ironside would do once the driver got back; probably go for a light run just to keep his driving wheels from seizing up. Hildegard expected to be pulling the midnight “City of Manehattan” later on and was understandably excited. But if these engines had faces, Mike’s would be the one noticed first.

The old Santa Fe engine sat brooding over his incident with Gallow. He had actually begun to lose sleep over it, just as worried as ever about what would happen if the truth was discovered. He was so caught up in his thoughts that 2398 startled him when the Atlantic called his name. With a yelp, Mike jerked backwards into the wall, once again knocking over the shelves behind him, which again landed on the three engines’ tenders.

“Ow! Damn it all, Mike!” 2398 shouted.

“What do you want?” Mike asked in an irritated voice.

2398 was taken aback. “What’s with the attitude, man?” he asked. Mike didn’t answer. Instead, he went back to staring out the doors.

“Something’s on your mind, yes?” asked Hildegard.

“Mm-hmm,” Mike replied.

“Is it about the incident in the mountains?” Hildegard further inquired. Again Mike answered with “Mm-hmm.”

2398 sighed in exasperation. “Not this again, Mike! How long are you going to keep mulling over that? What’s done is done, and there’s nothing we can do to fix it.” What Mike said next shocked the Atlantics.

“We have to tell Ironside the truth.”

“Have you got a hole in your smokebox?!” 2398 shouted, “We can’t do that!”

“If we do, he’ll reprimand us for sure,” Hildegard joined in, “And don’t even get me started on what could happen to little Gallow!”

“I just can’t take it anymore!” Mike retorted, “We’ve caused the railway to go into paranoia mode because of this! The Royal Guards are required to search through the cars of every train prior to departure now, which means trains are leaving on a delay. They have to run at faster speeds now to make up for the time lost during the searches, and I’ve already heard of a few close calls where the trains ran so fast around curves that they almost tipped over! And don’t get me started on what would happen if this constant rushing leads to a cornfield meet!”

Hildegard and 2398 shuddered. A “cornfield meet” was railway jargon for the worst kind of crash: a head-on collision. In the early days of railroading, head-ons were the most feared of all rail accidents. Two steam engines smashing into each other could easily cause boiler explosions, which would send giant pieces of shrapnel into whatever happened to be standing nearby. Coupled with coaches shattering and telescoping into each other, the thought of it made for a graphic image. Big Mike still remembered hearing the news of the Great Train Wreck of 1918 during his days on the Santa Fe. On July 9, 1918, two Nashville, Chattanooga & St. Louis (NC&StL) passenger trains smashed head-on, killing 101 people and injuring 171 more. To this day it is considered the deadliest rail accident in U.S. history.

Luckily (used loosely) for Mike, the engines wouldn’t have to confess. They had been eavesdropped on the whole time by a nosy unicorn pony: a young lad by the name of Yarrow. The colt had just retired from his first job on one of Equestria’s ocean liners, and wanted to start a new life on the railroad. He was just about to take his engine out of the roundhouse when he overheard the three engines talking (remember that Ironside is the only non-magical pony who can hear his engines). Yarrow had also heard about the incident with the freight train in the Draconian Pass, and had been subjected to the searches on the trains as well. Realizing this as his chance to straighten things out for the management, he magically recorded the conversation between the three engines. All that time, none of the engines ever noticed they were being observed and recorded.

Once he was sure they were finished talking, Yarrow climbed aboard his own engine and drove off to Canterlot to visit the management. He felt certain this would solve all his problems, never realizing this would cause a load of problems for somepony else. Meanwhile, the engines once again sat quietly in their stalls. They had come to the agreement that Ironside deserved to know the truth, and that Mike would take sole responsibility for the incident. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that simple…

Ironside stood on the Canterlot station platform, waiting for the 4:00 train to take him back to Ponyville. He was eager to get back to work with his engines, remembering that he and Hildegard would be heading the midnight “City of Manehattan” together; something they hadn’t done in a long time. He also wanted to make light runs with Mike and 2398 so that they’d be ready for their runs the following day. As he stood there, he saw Yarrow rush by with his engine. “Huh, what’s his hurry?” he said to himself as the engine blew past. He didn’t have long to wonder, however, as the 4:00 train soon pulled up to the station.

Ironside boarded the train, taking his favorite position in the front coach, just behind the tender of the engine. Even when riding as a passenger, Ironside loved being close to the engine. As he stared out the window, he could have sworn he saw Yarrow speaking to the Princesses about something. But the train rounded a curve before he could get a good glance at what he saw. With the station out of sight, he sat back in his seat and thought no more of the scene.

Yarrow was indeed speaking to the Princesses; no prizes for guessing what he was telling them. Celestia and Luna listened intently, their expressions unwavering, nodding once in a while as they heard what Yarrow had to say. Even though they seemed convinced, Yarrow replayed his recording of the engines’ conversation for good measure. Once the recording ended, he looked at the two Princesses. Celestia let out a sigh, as did Luna. While he couldn’t tell if Tia’s sigh was one of relief or disappointment, he could easily tell that Luna wasn’t happy. “Thank you for informing us of this, Yarrow,” Celestia stated, “Your help is greatly appreciated.” Yarrow bowed to the Princesses and left for his engine.

“You realize Ironside will be held responsible for leaving the roundhouse unattended and open, right?” Luna asked her sister.

“I know, Luna, but he’s not to blame for the actual crash,” Tia answered.

“That doesn’t really help matters,” Luna replied, “A punishment must still be given.”

“I’ll be lenient, I promise,” said Celestia. With that, she flew off to fetch her chariot. Luna meanwhile called over Shining Armor and told him to end the mandatory searches; the culprits had been found.

As soon as Ironside got to Ponyville, he realized something was up when he saw Celestia standing on the platform. As he got off, she beckoned him over. “Hello, Tia,” he said, bowing to her, “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes. It’s about the incident in the Draconian Pass. The good news is we’ve found the culprits. The bad news is…”

“What?” asked Ironside.

“It involves your freight engine and you,” Celestia replied. Ironside suddenly felt scared. He slowly began to back away from Celestia, the first time he’d ever actually felt scared in her presence. Celestia simply used her magic to hold him still. “Ironside, please,” she said calmly, “Come with me.”

Ironside sighed in defeat. There was no point in trying to run from Celestia, especially not if it meant putting the whole issue of who smashed a train into the Pass to bed. He could tell there would some punishment in the end, but if he knew Celestia as well as he thought, it wouldn’t be very severe. Hoping that to be true, he walked back over to Celestia. The two ponies then set off to the roundhouse to find the engines.

A Horrid Mistake

Iron lay face-down on his bed. Celestia had forbidden him from running trains for a whole month! While she had kept her promise to Luna about being lenient in punishment, the severity of the train wreck (damages and such) still required a degree of harshness. “Son of a bitch…” the engineer muttered into his pillow. He wouldn’t be paid for the month he was off, which meant that, being an avid spender, he wouldn’t be able to spend much for new or replacement parts for his locomotives and other equipment; apart from the engines, he also owned a homemade steam tractor that saw frequent use at Sweet Apple Acres. Also, since it was almost wintertime, foodstuffs were beginning to become scarcer and more expensive.

Big Mike was more harshly punished (in his opinion, anyway): he was not allowed to leave the sheds for any assignment for the rest of the year. His tender had been emptied of coal and water; he was to simply sit cold in the shed. In a sense, he was grounded. But Hildegard and 2398 weren’t in a much better situation. Because Ironside was the only driver qualified to drive the compound engines owned by Equestria (the only ones being his three engines and 1015), they too weren’t able to leave the sheds. As a result, there was a very sour mood permeating through the shed.

Ironside rolled onto his back and reached for the bottle of whiskey sitting on the table near his bed. He never drank before or during his shifts; he did know about the dangers of drunk driving, after all. But because he was not to drive for the next month, he felt there was no reason he shouldn’t take a few swigs from the bottle. Of course, being in a rather depressed mood, he would take more than just a few swigs. But at this point, he really didn’t care.

Meanwhile, Gallow Drop hauled a wagon loaded with the coffins she had constructed over to the mortuary. It had been in town since Ponyville’s founding long ago, and had changed hooves in ownership several times. The only haunting thing about the place was its purpose in society. There were no stories about ghosts haunting the place or anything like that; and it always had a very comfortable, homey feeling about it; but it had been left vacant a couple of times for several decades since nopony really wanted to go into the undertaking business.

Since moving in (which was only a few hours ago), Gallow had dusted off most of the furnishings and restocked the embalming materials. The place looked more like the lobby of a fancy hotel or the living room of an antique home. The only way one could tell of the place’s real purpose, apart from reading the sign, was when one noticed the funerary bier sitting at the far end of the visitation room. Gallow stepped out into the room wearing a silk top hat and a ribbon of black crepe around her right front leg. She felt proud of the work she had done, and was eager to restart the business.

Realizing that there weren’t likely to be any customers for a while, Gallow instead got to work on making a stock of coffins, as these again had not been seen in the mortuary since the last owners moved out. She figured that she would start with more basic designs before working up to the more elaborate stuff. She had all the time in the world; there was no rush to get a bunch of coffins completed in one day.

Back in the roundhouse, the three engines sat watching the daily traffic go by. The freight trains had not shrunk in size simply because Mike was out of work for the time being. The Equestrian locomotives now had to double- or even triple-head the trains, meaning there were fewer engines available. The passenger trains had to be cut down in size as a result, and the engines’ smaller size meant that the expresses weren’t traveling nearly as fast as they would behind Hildegard or 2398. Mike had not realized until now just how important he and the others were to keeping rail traffic moving at a steady pace. As a result, he felt guiltier than ever.

Ironside had undergone an unusual and dangerous transformation over time. See, when we get drunk, our inhibitions go down the toilet, and we often end up acting completely unlike ourselves. Some of us become very affectionate when we’re drunk; affectionate to the point where we make others feel uncomfortable. Others among us find things super-funny, even when they’re not. Ironside was the kind who becomes very irrational and violent. He had downed almost half the bottle in the past 15 minutes, and now had a crazed and very angry expression on his face. Somehow, he managed to hide it from his engines as he stumbled out of the roundhouse.

Gallow was interrupted by a knock at the door, though it was more of a loud banging. Nervously, she trotted to the door and opened it. “I-Ironside?” she asked, seeing the engineer standing in the doorway. If she didn’t feel nervous enough already, she was even more unnerved by the dark and possibly murderous look on her friend’s face.

“Hey, Gallow, how ya been?” asked the engineer in a tone of voice that wouldn’t have sounded out of place coming from the Joker.

“Um, all right, I guess…” she answered in an uneasy voice. The awkward smile on Iron’s face faded.

“Well, I’m about to have the worst month in my whole life,” he replied, “Want to know why that is?” Gallow sighed, realizing that he knew what she had done.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” she said in a soft voice. Ironside scoffed.

“You’re sorry,” he mocked, “You don’t seem to realize just what your joyride has accomplished. I’ve pretty much been laid off for a whole month. A whole frigging month! And I’m not getting paid, in case you didn’t know.”

Gallow became defensive. “It was Mike’s idea! I was just along for the ride!”

“Oh, so it’s Mike’s fault, huh? That engine can’t tell horseshit from coal, let alone decide who’s a legitimate engine driver!” the engineer retorted.

“You should be ashamed insulting your engine like that,” Gallow chastised, “He cares about you.”

“Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do! You’re in no position to be giving me orders, little missy!” came the answer.

Indignant, Gallow responded, “At least I’m not a drunken shithead who drowns his sorrows in alcohol! I’ve certainly got a much clearer head than you!”

Ironside didn’t respond. He just gave her a stare. Then he trotted up to her. His expression didn’t waver. Gallow watched him approach, her indignant look still on her face. Ironside stopped a foot in front of her and lowered his head to line up his eyes with hers. “Now, you’ve gone too far.” At full force, he right-hooked Gallow across the face, knocking her sideways. Gallow didn’t even have time to recover before he pounced on her, jamming his front hooves into her side.

She screamed in pain. “Alex, please! Don’t!” He didn’t listen. Spinning a 180, he clocked her square in the stomach with his hind legs. Another scream of pain, followed by whimpers. Gallow couldn’t believe what was happening. She tried pleading with him again, but to no avail. He took one of the lamps and smashed it against her face. She rolled over, clutching her bleeding nose and in tears.

Ironside raised the lamp, preparing for another strike, when he realized that the lamp wouldn’t budge. “What the hell?” he exclaimed.

Twilight stood at the entrance to the room, her horn aglow and with a look of pure anger. Ripping the lamp out of his grasp, she slammed it down on Iron’s head. He fell over, but that wasn’t enough to take him down. Stumbling back to his feet, he charged Twilight. It was futile, of course; Twilight was one of the strongest unicorns in Equestria, and it was no trouble for her to magically pick up the Pegasus and throw him against the wall, knocking a couple of pictures off it and onto his head. “Ironside, stop this madness at once!” she ordered. Picking himself up, Ironside snorted through his nostrils and charged at her once more, this time with his iron wingtips extended. At the rate he was going, a clothesline strike to the neck from the wingtips would surely fatally injure Twilight.

Twilight jumped onto him as he approached, blinding him by covering his eyes. “Aw, shit!” he shouted. Unable to see, he charged right through one of the windows and out onto the lawn. Tripping, he landed face-first in the grass and skidded to a stop. Twilight stood above him, having dismounted from him after his fall. She rolled him over and clocked him in the face repeatedly with her hooves.

Ironside was finally able to get a good look at Twilight. What he saw struck his heart. Twilight was definitely angry with him, no doubt. But tears were streaming from her eyes as well, and her heavy breathing was accented with sobs. “How could you?” she asked, choking as she did, “How could you do something like that to your friend?” Ironside couldn’t think of anything to say. He knew, even though still intoxicated, that he had made a horrid mistake. He turned his head sideways, looking at the weeping filly still lying on the floor in the mortuary. He closed his eyes, refusing to look at either Twilight or Gallow.

“Leave,” Twilight said in a sharp voice, “Leave and don’t ever come back.” Ironside felt like his heart had just been stabbed. He knew he deserved the rejection, as much as he felt it unfair. But there was nothing he could do. “Do you hear me?!” Twilight snapped. Ironside opened the eye closest to her and looked at her. “I will if you get off me,” he replied in a soft voice. Twilight backed off him. Ironside stood up, still wobbling from the effects of the whiskey, and slowly trotted off, hanging his head.

Twilight walked back through the broken window toward Gallow, who was still lying on the floor. She lay down and gently wrapped her arms around the weeping filly. “There, there,” she whispered, “It’s not your fault.” Gallow buried her head in Twilight’s coat.

From a distance, Ironside watched Twilight comfort his broken friend. “She’s right, Gallow,” he whispered as tears formed in his own eyes, “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” With that, he trotted back to the roundhouse.

Deported

Celestia sat on her pillow holding her head in her hooves. She had just gotten Twilight’s letter about the incident with Ironside, and knew that she had no choice but to fire him from his job. Twilight was obviously very upset, as told by the strong wording in her letter. She had even written the suggestion of downright deporting him from the town. There wasn’t any sympathy left in Twilight’s heart for the Pegasus, which wouldn’t have surprised him in the least.

Luna took it much worse than her sister. She had spent the past twenty minutes sobbing into her pillow, unable to believe that her friend could do such a thing. Despite Twilight attempting to console the brokenhearted princess, Celestia’s student knew there was nothing she could do to soften the blow. The incident was hitting everypony hard.

The rest of the Mane 6 were in agreement with Twilight in having Ironside resign from his post. They were more reluctant to forcing him out of Ponyville, but they knew it was going to happen anyway. Like Luna and Celestia, they found it hard to believe that Ironside could do such a thing to Gallow. The fact that he was drunk at the time didn’t make matters any better. Twilight was also upset about that factor; Ironside had been hiding his drinking problem from them all this time. He should have known it would lead to trouble in the future.

Rainbow Dash relayed the news to Blitz and Sunshine, which also took them by surprise. Blitz, to say the least, was horribly disappointed in his friend, and Sunshine equally so. Blitz thought for a long while about totally excommunicating Ironside. He just felt so ashamed that he was even acquainted with the iron-winger. Sunshine wasn’t as enraged. She felt that cutting Ironside off completely might come back to bite her father in the flank someday.

It took a while for Celestia to write down the letter demanding Ironside’s resignation from chief engineer of the railway. It was hard forcing her best engine driver to give up his job, but she knew that what he had done was unforgivable, and he had to suffer the consequences. With the last few sentences scribbled onto the paper, she signed it and sent it to Spike, who was with Ironside in the roundhouse at the present time.

Spike belched up the letter and skimmed it over before handing to Iron. The Pegasus read the letter in full before handing it back to Spike. “That’s it, then,” he stated, “I’m gone.”

“Gone?” asked Spike.

“I know when I’m no longer wanted, Spike,” Iron replied.

“You’re leaving town?”

“Yeah, I’ve lost my job. There’s no point in me sticking around, especially after what I did to Gallow.” Spike winced a bit upon being reminded of what happened the evening before at the mortuary. “I don’t think any of the girls will forgive me, even if I do apologize,” said Ironside.

“You should apologize anyway,” Spike responded, “At least it would tell them that you regret doing it.”

Ironside shook his head in denial. “It wouldn’t make a difference. Apology or no, they won’t forgive me. I just know it.” Spike sighed in resignation. He could argue back and forth all day with Ironside about whether or not the Mane 6, Gallow, and the Princesses would forgive him; the Pegasus was wholly convinced it wasn’t going to happen.

“Do you want me to step out for a minute or two so I’m not in the way while you pack your things?”

“Sure,” Iron replied.

Spike stepped outside and stared back into the stalls. Ironside had disappeared behind Mike’s tender, grabbing whatever he could bring with him on the train back to Las Pegasus. All he ended up taking was his flask with the engine road numbers and cutie marks on each side. Spike was surprised that it took Ironside 15 minutes to recover the only thing he’d be bringing back with him. “That’s all you’re taking with you?” the dragon asked.

“It’s all I need,” Iron replied.

“Why a schnapps flask?” asked Spike, “Won’t that just be a reminder of what happened here?”

“It’s all I have to remember of this place,” was the answer, “I won’t be coming back ever.”

“Ever? Come on, Ironside, don’t you think you’re taking this too hard?” asked Spike.

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation at hand here,” replied Iron, “I just beat a little filly senseless; a little filly whose life I once saved. She always looked up to me, and this is how I thanked her for it. She deserves better than me. They all deserve better than me. They’re right to hate me.”

Ironside’s words hit Spike like a runaway train. He couldn’t believe Iron said that the girls hated him. As much as he wanted to convince the engineer otherwise, the little dragon couldn’t think of a counter-argument. “I really wish I could convince you that you’re wrong, Iron,” Spike said finally.

“You can’t,” the engineer responded, “Twilight told me to leave and not come back, so that’s what I’ll do.”

Ironside stepped back into the roundhouse one last time to say goodbye to his engines. None of them had been fired up since two days before, and all three were asleep now. The engineer sat back in each one of the engines’ cabs for a few minutes, remembering all the times he spent with each one of them, and how those times would never come again. Tears came to his eyes as he grasped the finality of the situation. It was almost as if he was dying.

Not wanting Spike to see him in such an emotional state, he wiped the tears from his eyes and stepped out of the roundhouse. Spike hopped onto his back. “Can I ride you to the station?”

“Eh, sure, why not?” Ironside trotted across the railyard towards the depot, being careful not to trip on the rails in case a train came by. Once on the platform, he walked over to the ticket office and purchased a one-way ticket to the end of the line. Spike felt sadder the more he watched Iron prepare for departure. He was sure the girls would eventually forgive him; they couldn’t stay mad at him forever. But there was nothing stopping the engineer from going through with his plan.

The sound of a familiar chime whistle broke through the clamor of ponies on the platform as the train rolled in, pulled by none other than 1015 himself. Ironside was actually smiling a bit watching the engine roll past. He’d at least be riding behind an engine he knew. The conductor called out the stops along the way, with a town called Silverton at the end of the line.

The passengers began to crowd into the coaches. Ironside opted for a spot in the foremost coach with a spot closest to 1015’s tender. Before he could embark, however, he felt the need to turn around. His glance was met with Spike standing right behind him, eyes watering. “I… I guess this is goodbye then, huh?” asked the dragon.

“Yeah… I guess so,” Ironside replied.

Spike couldn’t think of anything else to say. He ran up and hugged Ironside one last time. “If it’s any consolation to you, I’d forgive you,” Spike said, his voice muffled beneath Iron’s coat. Not if you saw what I did last night, Ironside thought as he hugged Spike back.

Two long, throaty blasts erupted from 1015’s whistle: the signal that the train was now departing. Ironside and Spike broke their embrace just before the engineer had to step onto the coach. The Prairie’s wheels slipped for a moment, but soon regained traction, and the passenger train was soon rolling out of the station. Spike ran alongside as the train picked up speed, waving goodbye to his friend. Ironside suddenly stuck his head out the window. “Spike!” he called out over the loud chuffs of the engine.

“Yeah?!” Spike replied.

“Tell them I’m sorry. Twilight, Pinkie, Rarity, Gallow, all of them… I’m sorry!” Ironside shouted back.

By this point 1015 was accelerating fast, and Spike could no longer keep up. He stopped just before the end of the platform and watched the train speed away. But he caught every word the Pegasus had said. “I won’t let you down, buddy,” he sighed. Thinking that there was no point in waiting for the next train to Canterlot to arrive, Spike found an old handcar in an empty siding and tried pumping it all the way to Canterlot Station. He was exhausted after the first 50 yards. “Yeah, maybe I should wait for the next train…” he said panting.

Forgiving?

As 1015 rolled past the mortuary, Ironside tried to get one final glimpse at Gallow through the windows. He could just barely make out her form through the glass. She appeared to be conversing with a family in the office. He smiled weakly as the train rolled past; she seemed to be recovering well after his drunken beat-down on her. The memory of that night was still fresh in his mind, and he winced as he remembered. It broke his heart that that was the last time she would ever have any interaction with him again; it was such a horrible way to end what should have been a lasting friendship. Once the mortuary was out of sight, he turned his gaze away from the window and concentrated on the stack of locomotive drawings in his hooves. He knew that his days as an engineer in Ponyville were numbered, but he had to return to the cab as soon as possible; he had no other skills to his name other than driving trains. Fear crept through him as the thought of never finding a sustainable income raced through his mind.

Gallow was indeed conversing with a family in her office. The father’s mother had just passed away from old age, and the family was now making the funeral arrangements with Gallow. In spite of last night’s incident, Gallow kept her mind focused on working with the grieving family. Her own dark filly-hood helped her in communicating with the ponies, especially in feeling sympathy for the father. “Are you wishing for a traditional burial or a cremation?” she asked the father.

“Mother wanted us to bury her,” replied the stallion.

“Alright,” Gallow replied, writing the request down on a sheet of paper. She passed the paper on to the stallion and asked him to fill in the remaining necessary information, including any family members who would be acting as benefactors to the service. The stallion passed the sheet back to Gallow once the remaining info was filled in. “I will let you know when I am finished preparing your mother for burial,” Gallow told the family. “And if you need anything else, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Thank you, Miss Gallow,” the stallion replied, sniffing. Gallow took a tissue and wiped the father’s teary eyes, which took him by surprise.

“Oh… You didn’t need to do that,” he said.

“It’s the least I can do for you,” she responded with a smile. The mother looked at Gallow with an expression of sincere gratitude.

“Promise us you’ll be staying here a while,” she said to Gallow, “Ponies don’t tend to stick around in this business. It’s great to know the place is run by a little filly with such a big heart.”

Gallow smiled back at the two ponies. “I’ll be here for quite a while,” she replied. The family gave one last goodbye and thank you before leaving.

After they left, Gallow took the mother to prepare her body for burial. The books she had been reading from Twilight’s library had helped her understand the proper embalming techniques and materials. As she pushed the cart into the embalming room, she stopped to look at a photo hanging on the wall. It was a photograph of the train wreck that had orphaned her. She wasn’t looking at the wreckage of the coach, however; she was looking at two figures embracing each other in the middle of the photo. Gallow let out a heavy sigh as she remembered the Ironside she used to know: the tender, caring Ironside. She still couldn’t believe that a pony like him could have such a violent side as the one she dealt with last night. But trying to not let what happened distract her, she pushed the cart into the room and began her work.

Spike had managed to make the train to Canterlot after waiting for a good half hour. After inquiring a passer-by of the whereabouts of the Mane 6, he was directed, not surprisingly, to the castle. Upon arrival, he was greeted by Rarity, who told him that Twilight was still not in a good mood. “Did you manage to see Ironside off?” she asked him.

“Yeah,” Spike replied, “He was really upset about what happened last night. It’s pretty obvious he wasn’t himself that night. I don’t Twilight realizes that.”

“No, I’m sure she does,” said Rarity, “But she’s still upset that he was drunk that night. She thinks that he should have told one of us as soon as possible.”

“That’s not really something you willingly tell somepony,” Spike said, “And I think it was better that he was drunk when this happened. If he had been sober, then there would be no reason to forgive him at all.”

“It doesn’t exactly justify his beating of Gallow, you know,” Rarity replied.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now. He’s not coming back,” Spike said with a sigh.

The rest of the Mane 6 felt conflicted about the situation. While Ironside was highly intoxicated during the beating, and technically not in his right mind, it still didn’t justify him beating Gallow in the first place. But they also felt conflicted about him leaving. It seemed a good idea that he leave Ponyville, but him never coming back left a sore feeling in their hearts; he was still their friend, after all, and they didn’t want him out of their lives completely.

Spike entered the Main Hall with Rarity to be greeted by Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy. They all asked him the same questions as Rarity, and he gave them the same answers. “So, that’s it then?” asked Applejack, “He’s just up and flown the coop for good?”

“Seems like a good decision to me,” Dash put in. Applejack and Pinkie glared at her for making the remark.

“You really think Sunshine is happy that Iron isn’t ever coming back?” Pinkie asked in an indignant voice.

“You know she isn’t,” Dash replied, “And I’m not either, trust me.”

“I bet Blitz doesn’t give a damn,” Applejack stated. Dash glared back at her.

“He does give a damn,” she retorted, “He’s just as upset about this as the rest of us.”

“I meant he doesn’t give a damn that Iron’s gone for good,” Applejack replied, “And apparently neither do you.”

“I just told you that I didn’t like his idea of permanent exile, AJ!” Dash exclaimed.

“That’s rich coming from the pony who just said his permanent exile was a good idea,” Applejack responded. Rainbow Dash couldn’t think of a way to retaliate.

"She's upset, Applejack," said Pinkie, "We all are."

“Look, the main question is, can we forgive Ironside for his actions?” Fluttershy finally said. The ponies and dragon thought long and hard about the question.

“I don’t know…” Pinkie said.

“I really want to…” said Applejack.

“Me too, but…” began Dash.

“Could we really…?” asked Rarity.

“After what he’s done?” finished Spike.

Fluttershy sighed. “I guess we can’t really answer that question, can we?” she asked her friends. They all shook their heads in response.

“In all honesty,” Applejack put in, “I know that we’re all conflicted here, but I feel like it’d be better if we’d just confronted Iron and kept him here. At least we could’ve kept an eye on his behavior, and he would’ve been able to stay in Ponyville.” The girls nodded in agreement.

“Why didn’t we think of this before?” asked Rarity.

“I think it was because Twilight was so adamant that he leave,” answered Pinkie.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now,” said Dash, “He’s gone, and he’s not returning.”

All this time, Twilight had been listening in on the conversation. After hearing the girls’ alternative, she began to question whether her plan was really best for all. She heard the muffled sobs of Princess Luna from behind the closed door to the princess’s bedroom. “Maybe I was wrong…” she whispered to herself. But she still felt reluctant to forgive Ironside for his transgression.

Their meeting adjourned, the girls went around the castle to try and find things to take their minds off their engine driver. But Pinkie and Spike simply walked over to the balcony and continued conversing about Iron. “I really want him back, Spike,” Pinkie sighed, “He’s still our friend, and we shouldn’t have let him go off on his own for good.”

“Doesn’t he have friends back home?” asked Spike.

Pinkie shook her head. “It’s not something I like to talk about. But the friends he did have don’t even think he’s alive anymore.” Spike couldn’t believe what he just heard. “We’re the only friends he’s had for a long time,” Pinkie continued.

“You think he’ll be OK on his own?” asked Spike.

“I’m not sure,” Pinkie replied, “He does tend to spend time on his own, but trust me, it only prolongs his sadness…”

“How do you know that?” asked Spike again.

“Pinkie senses,” she replied, “I can read his emotions like an open book.”

Mudhen

If Pinkie were indeed with Ironside on the train, she would’ve been able to tell that he was still horribly worried. He had finished reading everything there was to read within the locomotive drawings he had been holding, and now his eyes were just darting around to random places on the top page. His left leg had been perpetually bouncing since the train departed. His mind had long since left the horrid memories of his final day in Ponyville behind, and was now solely concentrated on the financial and legal quagmire in which he had gotten himself stuck. He knew that if word of his drunken beat-down on Gallow reached ears outside of Ponyville, he would have a very difficult time trying to find a sustainable income regardless of what job he applied for.

“Last stop: Silverton!” called out the conductor as the train began to slow. By this point, the only ponies left on the train were Ironside and some prospectors looking to strike it rich in the silver mines surrounding the town which had received its name as a result of its close proximity to those mines. It was at Silverton that the tracks became dual gauge: that is, they had a third inner rail which allowed narrow gauge trains to run on the same right-of-way as standard gauge trains. Narrow gauge trains were the norm around this part of Equestria; the mountainous terrain held steep grades and narrow ledges that were far too dangerous for standard gauge trains. Narrow gauge trains, with their lower center of gravity and narrower footing, were able to negotiate these right-of-ways with much less trouble and with a lower risk of falling off the ledges.

As soon as 1015 came to a complete stop, Ironside and the prospectors disembarked. Iron looked around at the populace. It was pretty similar to most depictions of the western frontier he had seen in movies or read about in novels. The stallions had a very rough-and-tumble appearance to them, and the mares were mainly showgirls who worked at the saloon in the center of town. The ponies all seemed relatively polite, however, and the showgirls didn’t look as though they were in the prostitution business or something of that sort. There were actually prospecting mares as well as stallions, all looking to strike it rich on their own or with their companions in the mines of Silverton. Ironside began to feel more comfortable once he came to this realization.

“Excuse me, son,” came a voice from behind him, “Are you an engineer by any chance?” Ironside turned to see a mare with a ten-gallon hat and leather vest standing behind him.

“Yes, I am indeed,” the Pegasus answered.

“Well, if you’re looking for work, I could use a colt like you,” the mare answered.

“Who are you exactly?” asked Ironside.

“Oh, my apologies,” the mare replied, “The name’s Theofillya [Theophilia]. I’m the mayor of Silverton. And what might your name be?”

“You want my full name?” asked Ironside.

“Sure,” Theofillya replied.

“Alexander Matthias William Baldwin,” the colt stated.

“Oh, wow,” Theofillya said with a chuckle, “That’s quite a mouthful. You got a nickname?”

“Ironside,” was the answer as the colt extended his iron-edged wings.

“A very fitting nickname, if you ask me,” said Theofillya with a smile, “Hang on, you said your last name is Baldwin. You mean “Baldwin” as in…?” asked the mayor as she indicated a locomotive standing a few hundred yards away.

“Yes, I am related. Distantly, but still related,” Iron replied with a smile.

Theofillya beamed upon hearing that. “Then you’re perfect for the job,” she said.

Theofillya led Ironside to the locomotive she had indicated when asking the colt of his family history. The engine in question was indeed a Baldwin product; a K-27, to be precise. This engine was one of a 15-strong class of 2-8-2 Mikado-type locos built for the Denver & Rio Grande Western Railroad in 1903. Compared to Iron’s main engines, this engine was pretty small, though compared to her narrow gauge companions she was quite large and powerful. Her road number, painted in broad white numbers on her cab sides, was 463.

“This fine lass hasn’t had an engineer for a while. I keep her in serviceable condition just in case anypony wants to join the railroad with her. Looks like today’s her lucky day,” said Theofillya as she and the engineer stopped next to 463.

“She is quite a looker,” Ironside replied, “I’ve never driven a K-27, though they are one of my favorite classes.”

Theofillya chuckled. “You’re the first pony I’ve met who knew this engine’s class just from looking at her,” she said, “I think my work here is done. I’ll let you get acquainted with her for now. When you’re ready to start work, meet me by the coal tipple.”

“Will do,” Ironside answered. Theofillya trotted off to the coal tipple a few hundred yards away.

Ironside approached the engine. “Hello,” he said out loud.

“Hi there!” replied the voice in Iron’s head. Ironside’s eyes widened upon hearing the voice. Thinking that Pinkie Pie had somehow snuck on board the train without his knowledge, he trotted around 463 and peeked into her cab to see if the pink pony was around. “What’re you looking for?” asked the voice. Realizing then that the voice he was hearing was indeed inside his head, he sighed and walked over to 463’s front.

“Nothing,” he replied, “Just thought I heard someone I knew.”

“Well, the only one talking to you right now is me, and I don’t think you know me,” 463 said.

“You’re Denver and Rio Grande Western K-27 No. 463,” Iron stated.

“That’s my official title,” 463 replied, “But that’s not what I go by.”

“Well, what do you go by?” asked Iron.

“M,” the engine replied.

“M?” asked Iron, “Like, ‘M’ for ‘Mudhen’?”

“Yep,” 463 replied. “Mudhen” was the nickname given to the K-27s because of their tendency to waddle around on the ground like hens whenever they derailed.

“So you’re my new engineer, huh?” asked M.

“That’s right,” replied Iron, “Name’s Ironside.”

“Why’d they name you that?” asked M.

Ironside stretched out his wings to give M a good look at the iron leading edges. “That’s why.”

“Oooo, shiny!” mused M.

Ironside stifled his laughter upon hearing her remark. “You’re funny,” he said smiling.

“Applesauce!” shouted M for no apparent reason.

“And random,” put in Iron.

“So, we gonna start work or what?” asked M.

“Oh, forgot about that,” said Iron.

“Very nice,” M replied sarcastically.

Ironside climbed into the cab and went over the controls as he had done so many times before. M’s controls were the same as any other American engine he had driven, so he felt quite comfortable as he sat down in the engineer’s chair. “It’s great to be back in the cab,” he said out loud.

“What do you mean?” asked the engine.

“Hmm? Oh, I’ve kind of been out of work,” Iron responded.

“Why’s that? You get fired?” asked M.

“Yeah, big time. Also got kicked out of Canterlot and Ponyville,” the engineer answered. He heard a clapping in his head as M answered with a sarcastic “Nice.” “Well, I deserve it anyway,” Iron said, now with a more melancholy tone in his voice.

“Why? What did you do?” asked M.

Ironside lowered his head. “Well…” It took him a while to find the courage to explain to her what had happened between Gallow and him. But finally he did, including what Twilight had told him afterwards.

“Dude…” M said finally, “You really screwed up.”

“I know…” he sighed, “I don’t even deserve to be in your cab right now. I think it was pure luck that Theofillya even approached me.”

“Well, to be fair, you were highly intoxicated at the time,” M said, “I can’t say you weren’t to blame for what happened, but you weren’t totally in your right mind when the shit hit the fan.”

“It doesn’t matter,” replied Iron, “I can’t go back. They’ll never forgive me for what I did.”

“Then just stay here and work with me,” said M, “At least you’ve got an engine to drive and trains to pull. You can’t change what’s already happened. You just have to move on and be happy with what you have now.” Ironside nodded, knowing what M said was true. But knowing that the past couldn’t be changed still hurt him emotionally. You can’t be happy when you know that you’ve done damage that can’t be repaired, he thought to himself. “You don’t know that,” M countered, obviously able to read his mind, “Just give it time. I feel like they’ll want you back eventually.”

“But what about you?” asked Iron as he backed M towards the coal tipple and Theofillya. “I mean, I don’t want to just leave you behind once I go back. Theofillya told me you haven’t had an engineer for a while.”

“Well, are there any slim gauge tracks near Ponyville?”

“Um, there’s an old streetcar line near the edge of town that’s slim gauge,” Iron answered.

“Well, there you go,” M assured him, “I’ll still be around when you go back.”

“I’d hope so,” said Iron, “You’re the first friend I’ve made since I got here.”

M accelerated as her mood livened up. “You’re the first engineer who’s called me his friend in a long time,” she said.

“All the more reason to not let the two of us separate,” he said smiling. And so the two new friends backed down towards the coal tipple to begin their work on the line.

The Silverton Train

“Ever worked with ore trains before?” asked M as she was hitched to the front of a string of empty ore cars.

“I’ve done some freight work out of Ponyville with my Santa Fe engine,” said Ironside, “But no, never pulled an ore train.”

“Well, they’re no trouble when they’re empty,” M replied, “It’s when they’re loaded that it becomes a pain.”

“To whom, you or me?” asked Iron.

“Both of us,” said M, “These grades will do a number on you if you aren’t careful.”

“Why? Have you ever gone over the side?” asked Iron.

“No, but 476 did once,” replied M, “He still gets the heebie-jeebies whenever he runs downgrade on the High Line. He’s lucky to still be running.” The High Line was the portion of the Silverton Branch Line that ran several hundred feet above the river on a rather skinny ledge. K-28 no. 476 once fell off the line and tumbled down the slope. Though seriously damaged by the fall, he was eventually repaired and brought back into service. Despite his survival, 476 always felt uneasy running along the High Line alone and always tried to double-head with another engine whenever he could.

Once M was given the all-clear signal, Ironside gave two blasts from her hooter whistle, pushed the Johnson bar forward, released the air brakes, and eased back the throttle. Jets of steam shot out from the cylinders, discharging condensed steam and water from them. Once M knew her cylinders were purged, she had Ironside shut the drain cocks. The engineer opened the throttle a bit wider and notched back on the Johnson bar. The ore cars jerked a bit as their couplers picked up the slack, but the motion wasn’t violent enough to knock Ironside out of his seat.

As soon as M knew the last car on the train was moving, she had Iron open up her throttle all the way. She figured it would be fun to highball on the journey to the mines since she wouldn’t be able to do so during the trip down the grade to Durango. It also meant that she got the first loads of ore from the mines and could depart sooner. Like their original namesakes, the towns of Durango and Silverton were connected by a narrow-gauge branch line that used to connect to the main line at Durango. The Equestrian counterpart to the Denver and Rio Grande Western, like its predecessor, had been shut down long ago, and only certain sections of the line remained.

Princess Celestia had spent some time away from Equestria during her solo reign. The purpose behind her absences was to observe the progress of humans. It was for both industrial and military purposes; in case the humans became hostile, Celestia would have long before copied and developed the technologies they possessed thereby giving the ponies a better chance of surviving whatever fights broke out. In the end, however, she discovered that most humans denied Equestrians from ever having existed; the term “equestrian” in human parlance denotes the rider of a horse, and not the horse itself. She did find, however, that certain human technologies were worth copying and developing, and those that were helped modernize Equestrian life on an unprecedented scale.

M and her ore cars reached the entrance to the mine shaft at about 4:30 in the afternoon. The sun was already setting on the horizon, so it would be dark by the time the ore train was fully loaded and set to depart for Durango. As Ironside and M sat by the entrance, they could hear explosions from deep within the mine as workers set off sticks of dynamite in order to remove the ore from the shaft walls. Needless to say, mining was a seriously dangerous job. Everything from cave-ins to gas fires could abruptly end the life of any miners working in the shafts, although there was also the added danger of stumbling into a dragon’s lair. As a result, Celestia made sure that miners were paid well for putting their lives on the line.

Pretty soon, the first cartloads of ore were being brought out from the mine and rolled up the ore trestle. This was an above-ground structure that held a giant trough within its woodwork that stored the ore collected from the mines. Four large chutes were connected to this trough, and these chutes dumped the ore into the cars of the waiting ore train below the trestle. This allowed the ore trains to be loaded more quickly, meaning that more trains could be loaded and sent down the branch line to Durango. Each mine cart had to be hauled up the trestle one at a time. The bodies of the carts were much narrower than their axles, meaning that when the cart was tipped over all the ore fell between the rails and into the trough.

As soon as the trough was full enough to completely fill M’s ore train, the chute pony pulled the chain that lowered the four chutes toward the first four cars of the ore train. The ore fell by gravity into the hopper cars. The chute pony raised the chutes as soon as the ore began to form peaks above the tops of the hoppers, preventing unnecessary spillage. With her first four cars loaded, M pulled ahead until the next four hoppers were aligned with the chutes. The process was repeated until all twelve of the ore cars were fully loaded. Ore trains were required to have cars in multiples of four since the chutes of the ore trestle could not be controlled individually.

With her train fully loaded, M and her engineer began the trip through Silverton and down to Durango. The process of loading the ore trestle was very slow, so darkness had already fallen by the time M was ready to leave. Her headlight and indicator lights shone bright and clear as she marshaled her way through the sea of traffic littering the main street of Silverton. The tracks ran right through the road for its entirety; at the end of the road was the start of the branch line to Durango. Ironside kept the bell and whistle busy as he signaled ponies and their carts to let his train pass. Once the train was clear of the traffic, Iron opened up M’s throttle and let her accelerate until the train was cruising at a steady 35 mph. He would be mainly working the brakes during the descent to Durango, and M wasn’t allowed to exceed 15 mph along the High Line, so Ironside needed to cover the distances in as little time as he could.

About 20 minutes after leaving Silverton, the train reached the point where the downward descent began. Ironside shut off M’s throttle and returned her valve gear to full forward, allowing air to circulate through her cylinders and prevent a vacuum from forming, which would otherwise suck all the oil out of her cylinders and cause her to seize up. As he began actuating the brakes to prevent the train from speeding out of control, he began to realize that Gallow and Big Mike found themselves in a very similar situation the day they lost the freight train in the Draconian Pass. As memories of Gallow began to pop up in his head again, he sat back in his chair and sighed.

“Hey, you OK?” asked M when she felt his hooves let go of the brake handle.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Iron replied, “Just thinking about my friend back home.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story, but she was in a situation like this when she drove my freight engine into the Draconian Pass and lost the freight train,” he answered.

“And that’s when everything went wrong?” the engine inquired. Iron nodded in reply. “Man, you just can’t escape those bad memories, can you?” said M in a somewhat complaining way.

“I’m sorry, M,” Iron said back, “I’m trying to, I swear.”

“Look, just concentrate on getting us down in one piece. That should keep your mind busy,” M said. It was just as well that he should, as the train was now approaching the High Line. Ironside applied the brakes harder, at least he tried to. Realizing that his trip down memory lane had caused the air pressure in the brake line to run low, he shut off the brakes entirely and turned on the air compressor.

M was frightened a bit by the feel of her brakes coming off entirely. “Ironside, what’re you doing?”

“Just giving the brake system a chance to recharge,” he replied, “Don’t worry, M, I won’t let you run away.” As he said this, he reached forward and pulled the Johnson bar back all the way to the full reverse position, followed by him opening the drain cocks.

“Ironside?” asked M.

“Relax, M,” Ironside responded in a calm voice. He reached for the throttle and opened it a quarter of the way. M yelped and shuddered as she felt steam flow through her cylinders and out her drain cocks. What made her uncomfortable was that the steam was flowing the wrong way. What Ironside was doing was called counter-steam braking. By reversing the direction of steam flow within the cylinders, Ironside was using M’s running gear as the brakes instead of the actual brake shoes. M felt her speed drop as the train entered the High Line.

Ironside slowly closed the throttle once more. “Sorry, M,” he said softly, “I should’ve warned you before I did that.”

“It’s OK, man,” she replied, “I just didn’t expect you to be one of those engineers.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, you used me as the brake,” she answered, “I really don’t like being used as a brake. It feels wrong, and it does hurt a bit.”

“I’m sorry,” Iron said again.

“You did what you had to,” she replied, “We were going too fast for the High Line.”

“I still don’t like knowing I did something uncomfortable to you,” he said.

“You can’t please everyone, man,” the engine answered, “And please stop apologizing so much. You shouldn’t doubt everything that you do.” Ironside nodded as he realized just how true those words were.

“Then you know that that won’t be the last time I use counter-steam braking on you.”

“I know,” M answered, “I just want you to do so only when you really need to.”

Ironside went back to using the brakes, as the air pressure in the pipes had once again reached a suitable level. He let his mind wander a bit again, but this time he mused over what M told him. She could read the thoughts in his head. “I was being serious when I told you to stick with me,” she said after a while.

Ironside nodded again. “You’re quite a wise engine,” he said in response.

“Well, there’s that and I’m trying to watch out for you,” she said, “You’re the first engineer I’ve had in a while. I’d like to have you stick around.” Hearing M’s voice kept reminding Ironside of all the time he had spent with Pinkie Pie. He wiped his eyes as he began to miss her. “I remind you of her, don’t I?” asked the engine.

“Yeah…” the engineer answered.

“Well, think about it this way: perhaps you were assigned to me for a reason. Maybe the world doesn’t hate you.”

“You always seem to know how to make me smile, M,” Ironside said in a thankful voice.

“Anything for a friend,” she replied.

Ironside chuckled softly. “It’s like every friend I have loves to tug my heartstrings.”

“Then you were blessed with some very special friends,” said M.

Der Alptraum (The Nightmare)

Ironside wandered through the darkened streets of Ponyville. Checking his pocket watch, he noted the time being 21:32 (he used military time). It was no surprise, then, that the streets were completely devoid of life. Every door was shut, and most of the lights in the buildings had already been extinguished for the night. Looking up at the sky, he could not see the moon or stars at all; it was a very cloudy night. A feeling of profound loneliness began to permeate through him as he continued his stroll through town.

Passing by Sugarcube Corner, he noticed the lights were still on. It wasn’t too unusual, really. Pinkie and the Cakes were often up baking goods well into the night during the winter months. But when Ironside peered through the window, that wasn’t what he saw. Instead, the Cakes and Pinkie were gathered around the table playing board games. They all seemed to be having the time of their lives, the little ones included. Iron smiled at the sight, but at the same time, he felt like something was off. Following his instinct, he walked over to the front door and knocked. He placed his ear against the door, waiting for somepony to respond to the knocking. He listened for hoofs pattering on the floor, but there was no such sound. Instead, he heard the ponies chatting happily amongst themselves. Figuring his knocks weren’t loud enough, he knocked on the door again, this time with more force. Again there was no answer.

Reaching for the doorknob, he was surprised to find that the door was unlocked! Gingerly pulling the door open, he crept inside the house, trying to keep himself within eyesight of the Cakes and Pinkie. They didn’t seem to take notice. A sense of fear began to form inside him. He continued walking to the table, hoping that one of them would see him approaching. Still there was no response. Finally, he walked right up to Pinkie, grabbed her shoulder, and shook her. “Hey, Pinkie,” he said in a clear voice. Pinkie never even looked up.

Iron’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. Pinkie was never one to blatantly ignore a pony. What made it worse was that she didn’t even react to him shaking her. “What the hell is going on?” he asked himself as he backed away from the group. He turned around and made for the farm.

Applejack and Big Mac were apparently busy bucking apples, which was odd given the time of night. Ironside saw this, and again the fear crept into him. “Something’s way off here…” he muttered. He approached his two friends and tried to strike up a conversation. “Hey, guys,” he said, “It’s a little late to be bucking apples, don’t you think?” Neither one of them responded. “Is something wrong? Why won’t you guys answer me?” asked Iron. Again he got the cold shoulder. He sighed. “Alright, look,” he stated, “I know you guys are still mad at me for what happened between Gallow and me, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go into a drunken rage and beat her up.” But again they didn’t acknowledge him.

“Why won’t you answer me?!” he shouted, his voice shaking. “Applejack, McIntosh, please answer me! Don’t leave me hanging like this!” Nothing. Ironside fell back onto his flank as he watched his friends continue their work as if they’d never heard him in the first place. He began to shake as he felt his strength leave him. “Am I dead to you?” he asked them in a softer, but still shaky voice. Mac could’ve just said “Eeyup!” and left it at that, because again, the only answer either pony gave the Pegasus was silence. Iron felt his heart sink and the remainder of his strength leave him. His front legs slid slowly out from beneath him. He lay down in the grass, his head hung and his eyes dripping with tears. “I am dead to them…” he said to himself, “I’ve forever severed the bonds that I held with them… All because of what I did to poor Gallow…” Big Mac and Applejack by now had brought in the last of the buckets of apples and were now heading back into their house for the night. Iron wiped his eyes and looked up at the sky. There was still no sign of the moon or the stars. He hung his head again. “I’m even dead to her…” he whispered.

Unbeknownst to Iron, Gallow had actually been following him. She was surprised to see him back in Ponyville, and was curious as to why he had returned. As she followed him through the town, she also felt that something was amiss. That feeling became more apparent as she witnessed his futile attempts to reconcile with his friends. She was shocked by the total ignorance of Pinkie to his calls. As soon as Iron had left the Corner for the farm, Gallow knocked on the door to see if she would get the same reaction. This time, however, the door was actually answered, by Pinkie nonetheless. “Hey Gallow, what’s up?” she asked in her usual upbeat voice. Gallow stared slack-jawed and wide-eyed at the pink pony for a second. Her expression then went from shock to pure anger as she slapped Pinkie across the face with her hoof.

“Ow!” Pinkie cried, “Gallow, what was that for?!”

“That was for blatantly ignoring Ironside!” the unicorn responded indignantly.

Pinkie looked back into the house confused. “Iron was never here, Gallow,” she said.

“Yeah he was!” Gallow replied, “He was standing right next to you. He even shook your shoulder, for heaven’s sake!”

“Nopony shook my shoulder,” said Pinkie, “I would’ve felt it. Go ahead, shake my shoulder.” Gallow grabbed Pinkie’s shoulder and shook it. “See? I felt that. I didn’t feel that before,” said Pinkie. Gallow looked around, trying to determine where Ironside might have gone. “Are you feeling OK?” asked Pinkie.

“I swear Iron was here, Pinkie,” Gallow replied, “I’ve been following him since I saw him in the street.”

“Are you sure you’re not just seeing things? Maybe you’re imagining him because you miss him,” suggested Pinkie.

“I promise you, he was here,” Gallow answered.

“Applejack, McIntosh, please answer me! Don’t leave me hanging like this!” Gallow recognized that voice.

Leaving Pinkie behind, she galloped her way towards Sweet Apple Acres. “Ironside!” she called out. She was too far away for Iron to hear her voice, unfortunately, so all Ironside heard was the silence that finally caused him to break down. As Gallow approached the Acres, she could see Ironside weeping in the grass while Applejack and Big Mac headed inside for the night, neither one of them noticing the broken Pegasus just a few yards away.

Again anger coursed through Gallow’s veins as she watched. Completely ignoring Ironside’s presence, she sternly trotted over to the front door of the house and rapped on it firmly. Applejack answered. “Oh, hey Gallow,” she said surprised, “What’re you doin’ here this late?”

“I happened to notice you completely ignoring a certain hurt pony who thinks that he’s dead to you now,” she replied. “Huh? Who’re you talkin’ about?” asked Applejack.

Gallow scowled at her. “You’re not being funny, AJ,” she growled, “Now you are going to come out here right now and apologize to Ironside for being so rude. Bring your brother too.” Big Mac, who had just come to the door upon hearing Iron’s name, looked out.

“Gallow, there’s nopony there,” he said. Gallow then realized that the weeping she’d heard was gone now. Looking back, she too noticed that Iron was not there anymore.

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake!” she exclaimed. Without speaking another word to the Apples, she galloped off in search for Iron.

Ironside meanwhile had left the farm and trotted over to Carousel Boutique. He was still unable to believe that none of his friends were even aware of his presence. He could see Rarity and Sweetie Belle through the window. After several attempts to grab their attention by tapping on the window, frustration and desperation took over, and he threw a rock at the window, shattering the glass. Even that failed. The loneliness was now starting to cloud his mind, preventing him from thinking clearly and rendering him insane. After failing to get the attention of Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash, he finally made his way over to the library. Each time he failed, Gallow would follow up his attempt and successfully manage to get hold of the target pony. And each time, that pony would say that she never even noticed Ironside’s call, although Rarity did notice the broken window after Gallow pointed it out to her. Applejack and Pinkie had been following Gallow, and both urged the rest to follow her, unsure if Ironside was really around or if Gallow was just losing her mind.

By this point, Iron’s mind was racing with thoughts of his abandonment by the girls. Not at any point did he stop to think that he was being paranoid or over-reactive. He didn’t even bother to tap the window or knock on the door of the library. He simply leaned against the wood of the tree and peered through the open window, watching Twilight and Spike as they worked. “Hey Twilight, I found some of these old railroad books here. What should we do with them?” asked Spike as he brought the stack of books over to her.

“We’ll just have to give them away,” she replied, “Nopony reads those anyway.”

Had anyone been near Ironside when he heard those words, they would have sworn that they heard something snap. His hearing cut out leaving out the rest of the conversation. He now knew that the time had come for him to depart, not just from Ponyville, but from the world. Looking over to the railroad tracks at the edge of town, he felt there would be no better way to go than by train. With an unwavering expression, and the demented thoughts still swirling in his head, he trotted over to the tracks.

Gallow and the rest of the Mane 6 arrived at the library just a few minutes later. This time, Rarity knocked on the door. “Hello girls,” Twilight said upon opening the door.

“Gallow here thinks that we’ve been ignoring Ironside’s cries for help, or something,” Rarity replied.

“Twilight, please, I’m serious about this,” Gallow cut in, “Ironside has been trying to get you girls to forgive him for what he did to me.” Before Twilight could respond, however, a locomotive’s whistle sounded in the distance. Gallow immediately galloped in the direction of the whistle, the Mane 6 and Spike following close behind.

Ironside sat right next to the railroad tracks, watching the familiar triangular headlight pattern of 2398 get brighter as he and his train approached. Iron smiled; for some reason, knowing that it would be his own engine taking him away was comforting to him. Meanwhile, Gallow and the girls galloped as fast as their legs could carry them toward the tracks. As they rounded a corner, the tracks came into sight, with Ironside sitting right next to them, his gaze fixated on the incoming train. For the first time, the rest of the girls saw him too.

“What is he doing?!” exclaimed Rarity.

“Oh sweet Celestia, he’s going to kill himself!” Gallow shouted. Without a second thought, she ran as fast as she could toward the engineer, the rest of the girls in hot pursuit. Ironside looked one last time into the sky, hoping a ray of light might break through the cloud cover. But there was nothing. He lowered his head and shook it slowly. “Ironside!” Gallow shouted as she ran to him, “Please, don’t!”

Hearing his name being called, the engineer slowly turned his head back to see the girls galloping toward him. “I’m sorry, girls,” he said as 2398 approached, “But it’s time for me to go. Take care of yourselves, alright? I love you all.” He turned his head back to the track. 2398’s whistle screamed as the engine roared at him, as if pleading for him to back away from the tracks. But Ironside stood up, his wings outstretched, an adamant expression on his face.

“Ironside!!” Gallow called out as loud as she could.

Iron jumped into the air right in front of his engine. It was all over in an instant, but to the ponies, it seemed to all happen in slow motion. 2398’s smokebox made direct contact with Iron’s torso, ripping off his wings and mashing his internals into a pulp. It was almost as if he’d taken a direct hit from a cannonball. Immediately the train’s brakes applied. The driving wheels locked, spewing sparks as the train skidded to a long and slow stop. The Mane 6, Spike, and Gallow all felt their hearts stop temporarily as the blood-stained engine screeched past. Gallow, Twilight, Rarity, and Spike all heard a heart-breaking cry from 2398 in their heads. “NNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” Gallow screamed at the top of her voice. She felt her back legs give way. Her head dropped down and she wept bitterly, her front legs barely holding her up.

The Mane 6 all hung their heads as the reality of the situation came to light. Pinkie’s hair was no longer its puffy self, and her bright-pink hue was gone. Fluttershy was hopelessly choking back her tears. Spike felt his throat become dry as paper. As he looked to Rarity, he saw her holding her hoof over her mouth and turning her head away from the scene. He looked over at Twilight. Her eyes were closed; her head hung low and shook slowly. Applejack took off her hat and held it against her chest. Rainbow was the only one who looked back at him, her eyes soaked with tears. She held out her hoof. Spike ran over and hugged her tightly. She wrapped her arm around him and hugged him back just as tightly.

Gallow looked back at the Mane 6, then back at the tracks. The last three cars of the train were visible, but the rest of the train was hidden behind the trees. She looked up at the sky; it was now starting to rain. Gallow lowered her head again, tears streaming from her eyes. As she sobbed, she noticed that she wasn’t the only one doing so. But it wasn’t the Mane 6’s sobs or those of 2398 that caught her attention. It was those of somepony else, much closer to her.

Turning her head to the left, Gallow caught sight of the Princess of the Night looking over at the stopped train. “Nothing has ever moved me so much as the expression worn by Princess Luna that night,” Gallow would later say to me, “I’ve never seen a pony so sad…” Luna’s horn began to glow. Gallow wasn’t sure what the Princess was up to, but before she could do anything, Luna touched her horn on Gallow’s.

Gallow found herself in her bed, her pillow wet from the tears she’d been shedding. “Gallow dear…” came Luna’s voice. Rolling over, Gallow found Luna standing on the right-hand side of her bed.

“Princess Luna…” she started, unable to think of what to say next. Luna’s horn glowed again. This time she magically lifted Gallow out of bed and into her arms. Gallow hugged the Princess tightly.

“It’s OK, sweetheart,” Luna soothed, “It was just a dream.” Gallow felt the tears fill her eyes again.

“I don’t want to lose him, Luna,” she sobbed, “He doesn’t deserve what he got in that nightmare.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Luna agreed.

“But how can we bring him back? We have no idea where he went,” said Gallow.

“We’ll find him, dear,” Luna replied, “I promise.”

Luna carried Gallow on her back out of the house next to the mortuary. “You’re spending the night in the castle,” Luna told her, “I want to make sure you get a good night’s rest.”

“Thank you, Princess,” Gallow said smiling. Gallow made sure to lock up the house before remounting herself on Luna’s back. Luna took off into the night with Gallow wrapping her arms lovingly around the Princess’s neck.

Missing You

Gallow wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping that night. In Silverton, Ironside lay wide awake on the pilot of his engine, unable to calm his mind. Unlike the roundhouse in Ponyville, there was no space in the Silverton roundhouse for a cot or bed of any sort, so Iron ended up sleeping either in his chair in the cab or on M’s pilot.

He had been losing sleep ever since he came to Silverton a year ago; the incident that drove him away from his friends kept replaying in his head every single night. He would often wake up with a start and be unable to get back to sleep in the middle of the night. This was becoming a source of concern for both M and Theofillya, since Iron had almost fallen asleep at the controls twice now. Unfortunately, there were no therapists in Silverton, and Iron didn’t believe therapy worked on him anyway, so he was forced by Theofillya to take the day off and try to recuperate. In the meantime, while M was tucked away with her driver, the smaller Consolidation (2-8-0) engines would double-head on the ore trains.

M didn’t mind staying in the roundhouse too much. She welcomed the break after having worked almost nonstop with Iron (they got some time off for Hearth’s Warming), but she got bored really easily and longed to be out on the high iron again. The brother-and-sister pair of 41 and 42 were happy that M was pent up, however. Being the smallest and lightest of all the engines on the Durango-Silverton Branch, they did not get many chances to pull heavy freight trains since the larger engines did most of the revenue work. They normally ran a small train for visitors and children, which they felt was nowhere near as fulfilling a job.

Ironside felt reluctant to wake M up, but he just couldn’t stand feeling alone. He tapped gingerly on her smokebox. “M, hey,” whispered the engineer.

M stirred a little. “Hmm? What is it?” she asked in a groggy voice.

Realizing that she wouldn’t want to hear him say “I can’t sleep,” he sighed and lay back down onto her pilot. “Never mind…” he answered.

“Can’t sleep again?” she asked him. Iron shook his head.

“I don’t know what to do, M,” he said, “I’m going to lose my job again if I keep suffering from this damned lack of sleep.”

“It’s not your fault, man,” she answered, “It’s just insomnia.”

“I’ve never been diagnosed with insomnia,” Iron replied.

“It’s not something you’re born with,” said M, “Maybe you’re just starting to suffer from it now because of stress.”

“To be honest, this job isn’t really that stressful,” said Ironside, “I mean, the whole downhill coast thing is a little scary, but I’ve already done similar work in the Draconian Pass.”

“I mean you’re stressed because you’re always reminded of the life you left behind,” replied M.

“I left more than one life behind, M,” the engineer pointed out.

“And you miss them,” she continued. Knowing instantly whom M meant by “them,” Iron sighed and nodded.

“I don’t want to say that I feel lonely here, M,” Iron whispered, “You’re my friend, and so is Theofillya, but…”

“You have other friends out there, but they’re not here with you, so you feel like you’re alone,” M finished for him. Again Iron silently nodded.

“Don’t think that I don’t know what it’s like to miss somebody,” M said, “The friends I miss will never come back to me.” She was referring of course to her brothers and sisters: the rest of the K-27 class. The class once consisted of 15 engines, all originally Vauclain compounds like 2398, but later converted to simple expansion. They were the oldest Mikados on the Rio Grande, and each engine was very close to his/her siblings. Now only two K-27s, 463 and 464, survived. In service, the engines were only known by their road numbers; the nicknames were only given to the two that survived to the present day. 463 became known as “Mudhen” in memory of the class itself, but she had it shortened to just “M” instead. 464, her younger brother, gained the name Huckleberry after he joined a shortline railroad of the same name and became their flagship locomotive.

But the last time the two siblings spent any time together was before 1955, when M was bought from the Rio Grande by a famous movie star. Huck remained in Durango long enough to say goodbye to his older sister 461 before her retirement and scrapping in 1961. She was the last K-27 to be cut up. Huck was then sold to a berry farm that hoped to use him as a mainline freight engine. Because of his size and weight, however, they never used him, and so he was sold to his namesake line, where he still worked. M was eventually given back to the Rio Grande, but by the time she made it back to the Silverton Line, Huck was long gone. It was a heartbreaking day for M; she had hoped that the two of them would be together again. They had become ever closer as they watched their siblings get shipped off to the scrapyards.

Ironside noticed water drops streaming down M’s smokebox. He lifted himself off her pilot and trotted over to the shelf behind her tender. He pulled some cotton waste out of it and began wiping down her smokebox. “Thanks,” said M in a soft voice.

“Anything for you, M,” Iron replied just as softly, “But hey, at least you know that your brother is alive and well.”

“It’s not like I’m ever going to see him again,” she answered.

“You can’t be too sure about that,” replied her driver, “I know where his shortline is located. Maybe someday I can drive you to him.”

M suddenly felt very warm and lively upon hearing that. “Would you? I’d be forever grateful if you did!”

“Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye,” swore Iron.

“No, don’t stick a needle in your eye! How will you be able to drive me?” asked M.

The engineer rolled his eyes. “Oh, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know,” answered M with a chuckle.

“But I’m serious about taking you to see your brother. What’s his name again?” asked Iron.

“Search me,” replied M, “He and I just know each other by our road numbers. I don’t know if they even gave him a nickname.”

Ironside got off M’s pilot again and trotted over to a small desk on their side of the roundhouse. He pulled a fold-up map out of a small stack of papers on one side of the desk and unfolded it to reveal a full map of Equestria’s railway network, all gauges included. After finding which color corresponded to the narrow gauge lines, he searched the map for the shortline Huck was now working for. It turned out to be several hundred miles to the northeast, and there was no narrow gauge line connecting it to the Silverton branch. He relayed this information to M, who then suggested renting a flatcar that she could ride on. Iron went back to the map, making sure there was at least one standard or broad gauge line running between the two narrow gauge ones. Since the standard gauge trackage was the most extensive, it didn’t take long for him to find a route leading from Silverton to the Huckleberry line.

“Think Theofillya will mind us taking a little trip up north?” asked Ironside as he lay back down on M’s pilot.

“Are you going to keep losing sleep?” asked the engine.

“I don’t want to answer that question,” the engineer replied.

“Well, it’s the only way we’re gonna have time off to take that trip,” said M.

“Well, it won’t do us much good if I fall asleep at the controls and run you off the rails,” replied Iron.

“I’m kidding, man,” said M, “Lighten up.”

“Do you think the twins will mind having to do your work for a few more days?” asked Iron.

“Oh please!” responded the engine, “Those two would want me laid off if it meant pulling an actual ore train for all eternity.”

“They’re that desperate, huh?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe…”

Cutie Mark Crusader Engineers, Yay! Take 2

Early the next morning, the three mischievous fillies met in their treehouse. Gallow’s nightmare had left her with the impression that Ironside was either dead or going to die soon. It wasn’t a very farfetched idea that dreams could predict the future (Abraham Lincoln apparently had a nightmare about his own assassination). Having overheard her conversation with Luna, the Crusaders consolidated at their hangout to discuss how they were going to bring Ironside back to Ponyville.

Sweetie Belle was rather reluctant about bringing the engineer back. Nopony had even mentioned Iron’s name since his rampage and booting the previous year. His locomotives had sat dormant in their stalls all that time, too. Also, since Twilight was officially a princess now, she had more authoritative power, which could not only prevent Ironside from returning on his own, but also prevent anypony from trying to bring him back.

“You got Twilight all wrong, Sweetie,” said Scootaloo after the unicorn filly voiced her reluctance, “It’s not like she’s going to give us the guillotine if we bring Ironside back."

“It’s not that, Scootaloo,” replied Sweetie, “Twilight had a good reason to kick Ironside out.”

“She’s also got a good reason to bring him back,” put in Applebloom, “That nightmare’s been driving Gallow insane.”

“She doesn’t really think he’s dead, does she?” asked Sweetie, “It was only a dream.”

“Dream or not, she wants him back,” said Scootaloo.

“But why?” questioned Sweetie, “He got drunk and beat her up! How could she possibly want him back after something like that?”

“Because friends forgive each other,” answered Applebloom.

“Even after one of them beat the other one up?” asked Sweetie.

“Yes,” replied Scootaloo, “If she’s willing to forgive him for doing that to her, she deserves to get her friend back.”

“But would Iron even want to come back? I’m sure he thinks they still hate him to the core,” pointed out Sweetie Belle.

“We’ll just have to convince him that that’s not the case,” replied Scootaloo.

“And I’m sure he’d be willing to come back if he knew how Gallow felt,” added Applebloom.

“I guess so…” agreed Sweetie.

“Come on, girls, let’s go get our engineer back,” declared Scootaloo as she stuck her hoof into the middle of the circle. Sweetie Belle and Applebloom placed their hooves on top of hers, and all at once the three girls shouted, “Cutie Mark Crusaders Engineers, Take 2! Yay!”

The Crusaders had to keep quiet as they snuck their way into the roundhouse. 2398, Hildegard, and Big Mike all sat dead silent in their stalls. The three engines had been drained of both coal and water since their driver’s departure. The girls stood in front of the massive locos, feeling very small indeed. “Um, I don’t know much about trains,” whispered Scoot, “Which one of them should we take?”

“Take Hildegard,” whispered a voice in Sweetie’s head.

“Who’s there?” asked Sweetie Belle in surprise.

“There’s nopony here but us,” replied Scoot.

“No, I heard a voice in my head,” replied Sweetie.

“Look to the engine on your left,” said the voice. Sweetie Belle fixed her gaze on 2398.

“Wait, are you talking to me?” asked the pony out loud to the engine.

“Yeah, it’s telepathy,” replied 2398. Scootaloo and Applebloom stared at Sweetie like she had lost her mind.

“Who’s Hildegard?” asked Sweetie.

“She’s the engine on your right, the pretty one,” answered 2398. Sweetie Belle turned to look at the Danish engine on the right. “She’s the fastest of us all,” said 2398, “She’ll get you where you need to go.”

“Are you Iron’s engine?” asked Sweetie. 2398 choked up a bit upon hearing his driver’s name.

“Yeah,” he said, “Are you going to look for him?”

“We have to bring him back to Ponyville,” replied Sweetie Belle.

“I’m glad to hear someone still wants him around,” 2398 said with a sigh, “But no one knows where he went. There’s been no word of him since last year.”

“Then we’ll have to search all of Equestria until we find him,” replied Sweetie Belle.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” asked Hildegard’s voice, eager to recover her dear driver.

“You need to get loaded up first,” replied 2398. Hildegard suddenly remembered that the three of them had been emptied of coal and water.

“Shit,” she muttered.

“Hey, language!” exclaimed Mike, “We got kids here!” Mike’s booming voice caused Sweetie Belle’s head to ring.

Sweetie turned back to the other two, who were still looking at her like she’d gone crazy. “We’re taking Hildegard,” she declared, pointing her hoof at the Danish lady, “But we need to refuel her.”

“How?” asked Scootaloo, “We can’t use any machinery to load up the tender without attracting attention.”

Sweetie Belle smiled and pointed at her horn. “Leave that to me.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Scootaloo, “You’ve got to move a whole steam engine.”

“Well, there’s no way we’ll be able to push her out,” replied Sweetie Belle, “It’s the only way we can get her out of the shed.” Scootaloo and Applebloom reluctantly agreed and slowly opened the stall door, while Sweetie Belle gathered up her magical strength to move Hildegard outside. It wasn’t going to be easy; Hildegard and her tender weighed 129 tons. Sweetie Belle’s horn began to glow a pale green, and a similarly colored aura formed around Hildegard’s wheels and valve gear. It felt awkward for her to be moving, but not under her own power. Sweetie cringed and strained to get the engine out of the roundhouse and onto the service track. Luckily, the turntable was already lined up to lead Hildegard directly to that track.

It took ten long and strenuous minutes for Sweetie to push Hildegard onto the track, and the little unicorn was exhausted by the time the engine was in place. The Crusaders took a break to let her recover before loading up the water and coal. In addition to Sweetie’s magic, Scootaloo and Applebloom loaded the coal manually into Hildegard’s tender. The water spout simply had to be swung round, the water tank uncovered, and the spout opened. It took another twenty minutes for the tender to be fully loaded before the Crusaders could fire up Hildegard and begin their search for Ironside.

Hildegard gave instructions to Sweetie Belle, who then relayed them to the others. They had to pump water manually into Hildegard’s boiler, since there was no steam to run her injectors. Applebloom found an old rotted out bench next to the roundhouse that seemed incapable of supporting any pony’s weight. She figured this would make a suitable kindling for the fire. Meanwhile, Scootaloo found a tank of kerosene under the fireman’s chair in the cab. With the utmost care, she poured some onto the rotten bench, making sure not to spill any onto the floor. With the kindling prepped, Applebloom slid the bench onto the lip of the firebox, leaving about half of it sticking out. Sweetie Belle brought out a lighter from under the driver’s chair, had the girls and herself stand back from the bench, magically ignited the lighter, and lowered the little flame onto the kerosene-soaked bench.

Flames shot up from the bench almost instantly. Sweetie pushed the bench all the way into the firebox, and then had Scootaloo begin shoveling coal into it. All the time she was relaying instructions given to her by Hildegard. It was going to take quite a bit of time for steam to build up inside Hildegard’s boiler, so Scootaloo left on her scooter to get the girls some lunch. Meanwhile, Sweetie Belle and Applebloom stayed in the cab, shoveling coal and adjusting the water level in the boiler. Hildegard then told them that her running gear needed to be tended to, so she had Sweetie relay to Applebloom where the grease and associated machinery were located, as well as what parts of the running gear needed to be lubricated and with what type of grease.

The two Crusaders soon realized just how hard being an engineer really was, and they were tuckered out pretty quickly. While Applebloom was lubing up Hildegard (yeah, I know, that sounds dirty), Sweetie Belle was left to shovel coal on her own. The shovel, which was designed for a human, was long and awkward to hold, and it was very difficult to balance when the blade had coal on it. Scootaloo’s first attempt to shovel a load into the firebox had actually ended with her banging the blade against the backhead, spilling the load of coal all over the floor.

By the time Scootaloo returned with lunch, the other two were tired, filthy, and very grateful to see their comrade. “I have…no idea…how Ironside…is able…to do this…on his own,” panted Sweetie Belle.

“Oh yeah,” panted Applebloom, “He runs…his engines…solo.”

“Jeez,” said Scootaloo, “I think you two should take a shower before we leave.”

“You have no idea how good that sounds to me,” replied Sweetie.

“It won’t do you much good, liebes Kind,” put in Hildegard, “You’ll be getting dirty again once we begin our travels.” Sweetie Belle groaned and looked at her dirtied mane and coat.

“Thank Celestia my sister isn’t here to see me like this,” she said softly. Actually, Rarity, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash had no idea that the Crusaders were going off to search for Ironside. They simply assumed that the girls were going to spend a day in the treehouse and head back home before nightfall.

By the time lunch was finished, Hildegard had a large enough head of steam to get going. The boiler pressure wasn’t as high as it would normally be when she was running the express, but she would be running light (running without any cars) for this trip, so it wasn’t a big deal. Scootaloo was to be the driver for the initial part of the run. She had never driven a locomotive before, as had neither of the others, so Hildegard instructed her through Sweetie Belle how to operate each of the controls. Actually, Scootaloo had operated Hildegard before, but this was during the incident when the Crusaders tried their hooves at driving trains the first time round. The end result (as Spike stated before) was 2398 and Hildegard backing up and busting out the back ends of their stalls, while Big Mike was driven forward and into the turntable well.

Having given clear instructions to Scootaloo, Hildegard felt confident in the little filly this time. Scootaloo spun the screw reverser clockwise until it reached the end of its travel, then released the air brakes and pushed the throttle lever to the left. The familiar steam jets shot out from Hildegard’s low-pressure cylinders as the engine slowly rolled forward. On Hildegard’s (and Sweetie Belle’s) cue, Scootaloo shut off the drain cocks and the simpling valve, then opened up the throttle more and rolled back the valve gear a bit.

The majestic Danish engine slowly chugged away from the roundhouse and onto the main line. The tracks were clear, so Hildegard called out “Highball,” as did Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo opened up the throttle all the way, and Hildegard accelerated down the line, her chuffs becoming quicker and quicker until her stack was roaring. Neither the engine nor her crew knew where their missing friend was, or whether they were going to find him, but they were going to bring him back, and they weren’t returning until they had.

Resolution

The sounds of chiseling, sawing, drilling, and screwing echoed through the halls in Canterlot Castle. Gallow had been up all day working on a special coffin made just for Ironside. This was to be her greatest work yet, so there could be no room for error. Since she was making a custom box from scratch, she decided to make it up as she went along, and as such had no idea how the final result would turn out. At this time, she was making multiple panels, each with its own designs and artwork. She had had mahogany planks shipped straight to the castle, along with the necessary tools, paints, and varnishes. Any pattern that came into her head was automatically put to wood. The only part that was absolutely certain to end up on the finished coffin was the lid, which bore Ironside’s cutie mark. And this was just the exterior she was fretting over; she hadn’t even decided which upholstery was to be put on the inside.

Every once in a while one of the Mane 7 or one of the Princesses would poke her head in to check on Gallow. Rarity and Spike spent five minutes watching Gallow dart between each panel, wailing upon it with chisel and brush. Given the morbid nature of this maniacal progress, it wasn’t long before the two of them had to pull their heads out of the doorway. “I can’t watch, Rarity,” Spike complained, “I know artists get very sensitive about their work, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anypony use up so much time and energy on a coffin.”

“I know,” Rarity replied in worry, “I’m tempted to declare that the poor dear is officially insane.” Now, Gallow hadn’t gone insane like Twilight had when the latter was unable to write up a substantial report to Celestia about a lesson in friendship, but this was pretty damn close. Gallow would only talk to a pony if it dealt with obtaining materials for the coffin or if she wanted an opinion on possible designs for the panels. And apart from the necessary meal and restroom breaks and bedtime, she spent all day working on the coffin or looking for materials that would go into it.

Celestia was now lowering the sun to allow Luna to raise the moon. While the Princesses did their ritual, Rainbow Dash flew to the treehouse to see if the CMC were still there. Rarity had begun to worry that the fillies didn’t make it home, so Dash offered to check. She flew back into the castle faster than was probably allowed, but that didn’t matter. “They’re not at the treehouse!” she exclaimed.

“What?!” yelled Rarity.

“Where are they then?!” exclaimed Applejack.

“I don’t know,” replied Dash, “I searched the whole treehouse. I even followed each of their routes home. I didn’t see them at all!”

Rarity began to pace the room rapidly muttering, “Oh dear…oh dear…” which was promptly followed by her keeling over onto the floor. While Spike ran to her aid, Dash called Pinkie, Fluttershy, and Twilight into the room.

Before Dash could finish explaining the situation however, one of the guards burst into the room. “Princess Twilight, we have an urgent report from Ponyville,” he stated in a hurried voice.

“What is it? Does it have to do with the Crusaders?” Twilight asked.

The guard paused and thought for a moment. “Possibly,” he replied.

“Well, keep talking then!” she exclaimed.

“A quick survey of the roundhouse found that one of Ironside’s engines is missing,” the guard answered. Seven sets of eyes widened upon hearing the engineer’s name (well, in this case Rarity’s shot open). It didn’t take long for Twilight to deduce what had happened.

“Thank you, guard,” she said in her normal tone of voice.

“You’re welcome, Your Highness,” he replied, “Oh, and my name’s Silver, by the way.” This was the same guard who had ridden with Ironside during 1015’s test run.

Twilight smiled and nodded. “I’ll remember that.”

After Silver left the room, Twilight turned to her friends, this time with a more serious expression. “Alright girls, I think it’s pretty obvious that the CMC left to bring Ironside back to Ponyville.” The girls and Spike looked at one another with uncertainty. Twilight was confused. “What is it?” she asked.

“Twilight, you were the one who banished Ironside from Ponyville in the first place,” said Spike.

“You know how stubborn our sisters can be, Twi,” said Applejack, “They won’t even want to come back unless Ironside’s with us.”

“We don’t know if you’re okay with us bringing Ironside back,” put in Pinkie. Twilight looked over to the room where Gallow was working, then sighed and turned her gaze back to her friends.

“To be honest, I’ve been regretting that decision for a while now.” Again the girls’ eyes widened. “I didn’t even realize what was going to happen once Iron was out of the picture. I thought things were going to turn out better, but now that I look at it, I don’t see that being the case anymore.”

“Well, nopony could have predicted Gallow having that nightmare and believing that Iron would die soon,” said Fluttershy.

“No, but there’s more to it than that,” replied Twilight. She paused for a bit, feeling somewhat ashamed at admitting this but also feeling ashamed that she hadn’t admitted this sooner. “I miss him too.” She gingerly took her tiara off and laid it upon the carpet in front of them. “I was crowned a princess because Princess Celestia believed that I had gained enough knowledge and understanding about friendship to become a teacher of it, and I had finished Starswirl the Bearded’s unfinished spell. But now that I look at it, how did all of that happen if I pushed one of my own friends away and forbade him from ever returning? I never gave him the chance to apologize or to ask for forgiveness, or to find a way to fix his wrongdoing. I just banished him outright.”

“Why the change of heart all of a sudden, Twi?” asked Spike.

Again, Twilight looked over at Gallow’s room. “Why would Gallow, the pony that Ironside hurt, be so traumatized by a nightmare about her attacker committing suicide that she would commit herself to build a special coffin for him?” she asked.

“Because she’s lost her mind?” suggested Rainbow Dash.

“No Dash,” replied Twilight, “It’s because she still cares about him. It’s because she hasn’t given up on him.”

“I don't get it. If she hasn’t given up on him, why is she building a coffin for him on the presumption that he’s gonna die soon?” asked Applejack.

“I mean that she hasn’t given up on the friendship that binds them together. I mean, Ironside did make a horrible mistake, but he wasn’t doing so with an unaltered mindset. He was drunk when it happened, and while that doesn’t make what he did OK, it isn’t nearly as bad as if he had beaten her while sober,” explained Twilight.

It was then that the ponies noticed Princess Celestia standing right next to Twilight. Twilight looked up to her teacher. “Is it wrong for me to want Ironside back, Princess?” she asked.

“We’ve all made mistakes before, Twilight, even I,” Celestia replied, “Ask Luna, for example.” Luna nodded. “But notice that I didn’t try to prevent Luna from returning after 1000 years. In fact, I was always looking forward to the day that she would return,” Celestia continued, “Or what about Discord?” The Mane 6 remembered the day Celestia purposely requested that they bring the spirit of chaos back from his stone imprisonment; they all thought she’d finally snapped. “It is often difficult to continue having faith in a friend when that friend does something absolutely horrible, and sometimes they can’t be saved. But your thoughts serve you well, Twilight. I know Ironside; he wouldn’t simply shake something like that off without trying to make sure he never made that same mistake again.”

“And you’re not the only ones who want him back,” put in Luna. The Mane 6 looked with pity upon her. Iron’s banishment had also left Luna feeling like she had lost a very special friend. “I was actually quite nervous about asking you to bring him back, for I felt that you would refuse,” she said.

Twilight was shocked. “Luna, I…” she started. She couldn’t think of what to say.

“It was best to leave the issue alone for the time being,” said Celestia, “I didn’t want Twilight to take any action until she was absolutely certain that Ironside should return.”

“I really do want him back, Princess,” Twilight admitted, “It’s not just to prove whether or not he’s dead. I really do miss him. There have been times when I just wanted to talk to nopony but him, but I couldn’t.” She paused for a bit. “I’ve also felt very concerned about him. And this has gone on since I first met him. I don’t remember seeing him happy, and I mean truly happy, in a long time.”

“He has had a rough past,” said Celestia, “And I know his self-worth is low.”

“That’s why I’ve been so concerned. He doesn’t seem to care about his own life.” The more Twilight talked about this, the more she realized just how important bringing Ironside back was to her. After another long pause, Twilight spoke up. “We have to bring him back,” she declared adamantly. Celestia and Luna both smiled upon hearing that, as did the girls and Spike.

Hildegard and the CMC had stopped just outside of the Crystal Empire. It was about 9 o’clock at night, so Hildegard, being the motherly figure she is, decided to stop here so that the fillies could get some rest. It was just as well, as the three fillies were thoroughly tired out by the long journey. Having run Hildegard at full throttle for the duration of the trip, they had to stop more than once to re-oil her rods and wheels to avoid them overheating or seizing up. They’d also taken quite a few wrong turns, which delayed their journey even more.

Hildegard backed into the shed for the night, making sure the fillies had found a safe place to spend the night. They found Shining Armor training his regiment in the arena and asked if he minded them spending the night at the castle. Always willing to take care of Twilight’s friends, he readily agreed. The fillies then reported back to Hildegard before dropping her fire. After that, they followed Armor into the castle.

Back in Silverton, Ironside wiped M down, making sure she was ready for their trip to the Huckleberry line the following day. “You excited?” asked Ironside.

“Yeah, and a little nervous,” M responded.

“What, you think he won’t recognize you?” asked the engineer.

“I’m more worried about what spending all that time without me has done to him,” the engine answered.

“You two come from a very durable class of engines,” said Iron, “I think he’s doing fine.”

“You can’t blame a sister for worrying about her bro,” said M as Iron lay down on her pilot.

“No I can’t,” he said with a soft chuckle. As he let his mind wander, Iron remembered his own younger brother. He wondered how the kid was getting along without his older brother. The smile that was on his face faded, replaced with a look of guilt.

“You OK?” asked M.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing, M. Just thinking,” Iron answered.

“Don’t think too much, man. You kinda have a knack for thinking yourself into a bad mood,” she said. Iron rolled over and rested his head on her smokebox.

“Don’t worry about me, M,” he said, “I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so,” she replied.

Iron closed his eyes. “Night, M,” he said softly.

“Night, Al,” the engine replied. Iron smiled upon hearing his real name. He didn't seem to mind it so much anymore.

Triple Departure

All three parties were up early the next morning. Ironside finished up his preparations on M while the Mane 6 plus Spike, Blitz, and Sunshine huddled together to devise their recovery operation. The Crusaders, meanwhile, were awoken by Shining Armor running his regiment through their morning routine. Needless to say, the fillies weren’t happy about being up so early (it was about 6:00).

Back in Canterlot, Twilight ran down to the railway office to check for any signs of where Ironside had gone. He had never mentioned to Spike where his destination was. It took Twilight a while to find the files that logged which trains had departed Ponyville the day Ironside left. To her dismay, she found that only those tickets reserved ahead of time had names listed; Ironside would not have reserved a ticket on that day. She did, however, find a list of which locomotives were in service on that day, and only one non-Equestrian loco was on the list.

The doors to the roundhouse adjacent to the castle shot open. The locomotives inside were startled by the violent awakening, and many began to complain. Twilight and her posse entered the roundhouse. “Please, everyone, I need quiet,” Twilight stated.

“What exactly is going on here, Princess?” asked one of the Equestrian engines.

“I am conducting an investigation,” she replied. The engines looked at each other, wondering what the investigation was for.

“Did we do something illegal?” asked another Equestrian loco.

“No, none of you is guilty of any crimes,” answered Twilight, “And this has nothing to do with any of the Equestrian engines here.”

All of the Equestrians (engines, ponies, and dragon) focused their gazes on 1015. “Well, I guess I’m guilty on that distinction alone…” he muttered.

Twilight shook her head and stepped up to him. “You’re not guilty of anything, 1015. I already said so.”

“OK, so what do you want from me?” asked the engine.

“We need to bring Ironside back to Ponyville,” responded the princess. Again there was murmuring amongst the engines. 1015 smiled invisibly.

“Well it’s about time someone brought him back,” he said heartily.

“You’re the only non-Equestrian engine here,” said Twilight, “If there was any engine Ironside would want to ride behind, it’d be you.”

There were two reasons why the Equestrian engines were whispering to each other about Ironside. The main one, of course, dealt with his drunken incident the year before; every engine in Canterlot and the surrounding villages heard about it. The other was a much longer standing one: many Equestrian engines thought Ironside didn’t like them because they weren’t like his engines. Now, this was just a rumor. Ironside didn’t hate the Equestrian locos because they weren’t unique like his, he just liked spending more time with the foreign-built engines because he hadn’t grown up with them all his life. He actually cared about and trusted the Equestrian engines just as much as he did his own.

“Ironside left Ponyville a year ago. Was he on one of your trains?” inquired Twilight.

“Yeah, he was,” answered 1015. Twilight and Rarity (who was also listening) breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now, do you remember which of your trains he was on?” Twilight asked further.

“It was one of the earlier ones. I don’t quite remember which one though,” replied 1015.

“It was the 10:15,” Spike piped up, “I remember the departure time being the same as the road number of the engine.”

“Good job, Spike,” said Twilight with a smile.

“Yeah, it was the 10:15 train,” said the engine.

“OK, so now we need to know where Iron got off,” continued Twilight.

“I go as far as Silverton,” said 1015, “But I didn’t take note of when Ironside got off my train.”

Twilight sighed. “Then we’ll have to stop at every stop on the line,” she said.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Twi,” put in Applejack, “Who knows how long it’ll take us to find him?”

“We can’t leave any stone unturned, Applejack,” replied Twilight, “I know it’ll take a long time, but it will increase our chances of finding him.”

“That’s assuming he doesn’t head off somewhere else,” said Rainbow Dash.

“He does have a knack for wandering around,” put in Blitz.

“We’re just going to have to assume that he won’t take off in some random direction,” admitted Twilight.

“Sounds like a pretty bad assumption to make,” said Blitz.

“Shouldn’t we just head straight to Silverton?” asked Sunshine, “Uncle Alex would need to find a new job after he left, and railroading is all he knows.”

“Actually, he’s quite a fine musician too,” said Rarity.

“Regardless, Sunny brings up a very valid point,” said Blitz, “Alex’s best bet at finding new employment would be to look for a railroad far from the ears of Canterlot and its surrounding towns.”

“Like I said, Silverton is as far as I go,” said 1015.

Twilight nodded. “Alright then, everypony, Silverton it is.” Everyone nodded in agreement. The gang climbed into 1015’s spacious cab and set off to inform the Princesses.

Theofillya met up with Ironside outside the Silverton depot. M was being loaded onto a flatcar by a giant steam crane, which itself was coupled to a former Pennsylvania Railroad engine. Theofillya stood silently next to the engineer as he watched his engine being lowered onto the flatcar. “All good up there, M?” asked Ironside.

“Yeah, nice and snug,” M answered.

“How long will you two be gone?” asked the mayor.

“Hmm, probably four days,” replied the engineer.

“OK, I’ll let the crews know,” said Theofillya.

“I’m sure the twins will be more than happy to relieve M of her duty, if only for four days,” said Ironside with a smirk.

“Yeah, they don’t get out that much,” the mayor responded, “I hope they haven’t gotten too used to wheeling tourists around.”

“Please, Mayor, those two would give up their rear axles to spend a week hauling ore trains,” said Ironside.

The mayor chuckled in response. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Ironside walked over to the massive PRR engine at the head of the train. It was I1sa Decapod (2-10-0) #4483. Known as the Hippos because of their massive boilers and squat driving wheels, the I1’s were the main heavy freight engines of the Pennsy. Their tractive effort maxed at 96,000 lbf. 4483 was one of the last built by the PRR’s Altoona Shops in 1923. “Hello, there,” said the engine as Ironside walked up to his pilot beam.

“Hey,” the engineer replied.

“You’re the one who needs me to haul the little one over to Huckleberry?” asked 4483.

“Hey, who you calling little?” asked M from behind 4483’s tender. The Hippo and Ironside chuckled.

“Never mind her, she’s big for a slim gauge loco,” said Iron, “And yeah, we’re heading to Huckleberry. Her brother works there.”

“Ah, a little family reunion, eh?” said 4483.

“It’s something special I decided to do for her. She hasn’t seen her brother for over 50 years,” said Ironside.

“Ah, I know that feeling,” 4483 mused; he was the only one of his class left.

Back in the Crystal Empire, the CMC had finally managed to get back to sleep after the regiment training woke them up. It was impossible to fall back asleep with Armor shouting orders and the guards marching to the sound of drums. The three fillies were just drifting off to Dreamland when…

The sound of a bugle playing the Revelry burst into the room, startling the girls awake. “Good morning, girls!” cried out Cadence as Armor finished the tune. Scootaloo stared at them like she wanted to shove a bugle up each of their flanks.

“What in the name of Princess Celestia was the bugle for?!” she exclaimed.

“What? I always give the morning call this way,” said Armor.

“Do you two have any idea what time it is?” asked an annoyed Sweetie Belle as wiped her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s 7:15,” replied Cadence. The three fillies groaned and pulled the covers over their heads. “Come on, you three,” said Cadence as she magically lifted the fillies out of bed, “It’s time to get up.” Again the girls groaned as they floated after Armor and Cadence.

The girls’ spirits were lifted when they saw the hearty breakfast set upon the table before them. “Eat up,” said Armor, “You girls still have quite a ways to go before you reach Silverton.”

Applebloom looked at Armor with a confused expression. “Wait, you know where Ironside is?”

“Not exactly,” said Cadence, “But we discussed last night where he might be, and Silverton is the closest railroad town you’ll find that’s outside mainstream Equestria.”

“It makes sense,” agreed Sweetie Belle, “Ironside has always been a railroader. If he wanted to settle down somewhere outside the influence of the Royal Railways, Silverton would be the only place where he could still drive trains. It’s where the main line ends.”

The girls wolfed down their breakfast. The sight was borderline savage, but Armor and Cadence knew the Crusaders were in a hurry, so they let the general lack of etiquette slide. Once the girls finished, they washed up and hurried over to the roundhouse to prep Hildegard for her run. They remembered to say goodbye to Armor and Cadence, who promised to inform the Mane 7 of where the Crusaders were heading. A phone call from Twilight confirmed their belief that the Mane 7 were following the Crusaders, so they were bound to pass by the Crystal Empire.

Ironside sat on top of 4483’s dual air tanks holding up a map to the engine’s smokebox. “There’s an old line that runs from Silverton to Clydesdale via Huckleberry,” said Ironside, “From what I know, the tracks are still in place; nopony’s gotten around to tearing them up yet.”

“Are the tracks in good condition?” asked 4483.

“That’s what I’m not sure of,” replied Iron, “The line was abandoned over a half-century ago.”

“What’s the terrain like?” asked the engine, “If we know, we can guess whether or not the line has suffered any damages from natural causes.” Ironside moved his glance over to the legend. “The grade of the line is level the whole way,” said Ironside, "The tracks run through a valley at first, then it flattens out the rest of the way."

“Then why’d they abandon the whole line?” inquired 4483.

“Clydesdale and Huckleberry rely mostly on each other for goods and services. They used to rely on Silverton for ores and minerals, but after they found new sources near Clydesdale, they haven’t needed to rely on Silverton anymore, so the line was abandoned,” explained Iron.

“No other stops between Silverton and Huckleberry?” asked 4483.

“Nope,” answered Iron.

“Alright, let’s get going,” said the engine.

“You take good care of yourselves, you hear?” said Theofillya.

“We will, Mayor,” replied Ironside as he climbed into 4483’s cab.

“How fast would you like to go?” asked 4483.

“25 would be nice,” said M cheekily, “We don’t want Hippo here to rock so hard he falls over.”

“You’re not exactly known for being a smooth sailor either, Mudhen,” replied 4483.

M laughed. “That’s only when I’m off the rails, silly,” she said, “I can’t even imagine how rough you are when you derail.”

“Oh, you two…” sighed Ironside.

“How about 40 mph?” suggested 4483, “I can run relatively smooth at that speed.”

“Works for me,” responded Iron.

“Well, I don’t want to be out on the main all day,” said M.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” replied 4483.

“I’m such a nice engine,” declared M sarcastically.

“She really is,” whispered Iron in all seriousness, “You just got to get used to her humor.”

4483 chuckled. “I’ll remember that.”

The three engines and their crews sat impatiently at their respective platforms, waiting for the all clear. Three guards standing on the platforms blew their whistles twice. Hildegard replied with two blasts from her single chime. 1015’s throaty 5-chime roared twice. 4483’s little banshee whistle shrieked with two pulls from the whistle cord. “Was that a whistle or a squeaky toy?!” exclaimed M in hysterics.

“Shut up!” responded 4483 rudely. Iron wasn’t expecting what happened next: as soon as he pulled back the throttle, 4483 jerked forward, knocking Ironside off his hooves and giving M a shake so violent her bell rang and her cab rattled.

“OK, OK, I’ll stop!” cried M in shock.

“Don’t ever do that again!” yelled Ironside.

“Just making my point,” said 4483 nonchalantly.

Ironside climbed back into his chair and shook his head. “Just make sure we get there in one piece.”

“Will do,” replied 4483 as he rolled off the main and onto the Clydesdale line. Hildegard and 1015, meanwhile, had much smoother starts. The two passenger engines slowly accelerated to their top speeds, their crews in hot pursuit of Ironside.

Rough Weather

For the first 25 miles, the line from Silverton to Huckleberry ran inside a valley, although the ruling grade was indeed level. Protected from the elements by the mountains on either side, it was smooth sailing for M, Ironside, and Hippo despite the Decapod running faster than his comfort zone. Hippo was perfectly capable of holding 40 all day long, but it was a speed at which the Pennsy rarely if ever ran their I1’s. You see, steam engines’ drive wheels have large counterweights that balance the “hammer-blow” produced by the pistons and side rods. Hippo and his brethren were built with strong cylinders and rods, but their small drivers couldn’t allow for big enough counterweights. Hence, the Hippos gained a reputation for being rough at higher speeds; that is, they would rock back and forth and eventually warp the rails. Despite this, there didn’t seem to be much lateral motion on Hippo’s part. Most of it came from the less-than-desirable condition of the old track, and even then it wasn’t dangerous. The ride was definitely better than what the two engines on the main line were about to experience.

The weather of the area surrounding the Crystal Empire was not known for being calm and mild. In fact, the day the Mane 7 first came to the Empire there was a snow storm. Now, dark thunderheads loomed over the Empire as Hildegard raced away towards Silverton. Scootaloo looked up at the menacing sky. “Maybe getting out of the Empire in such a hurry wasn’t a good idea…” she said nervously. Hildegard and the other two Crusaders looked up at the sky as well. Fixing her gaze forward, Hildegard saw the dark shadowy curtains of rain looming ahead.

“There’s a tarpaulin inside the toolbox of my tender,” said Hildegard, “Take it out and fix it over the space between my cab and my tender.” Sweetie Belle wasted no time in doing just that.

The rain came down light at first, as it often does, but soon it was a torrential downpour. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue if one had wipers on hand, but being a locomotive (and an old one at that) Hildegard came equipped without that luxury. As a result, it was nigh impossible for the Crusaders to see out of the cab portholes at the front. Their only option for viewing the signals and ensuring their path was clear was sticking their heads out the windows into the pouring rain. When Scootaloo tried that for the first time, her head instantly became soaked and her eyes blinded by the cold rain. She tried again with her scooter goggles on, which worked better. She managed to catch a glimpse of the green signal as Hildegard zoomed past it. “All clear!” she called into the cab.

The further Hildegard traveled, the worse the storm became. Lightning shot across the sky and thunder echoed across the land. Several bolts from the blue struck the ground, one hitting uncomfortably close to the speeding engine and setting off a thunderclap that hurt the poor fillies’ ears. “I don’t feel safe anymore, Hildegard!” shouted Sweetie Belle, “We need to find shelter fast!”

“I concur,” the engine replied. Hildegard squinted into the sheets of rain, searching for anything that might provide cover for them until the storm passed. About half a mile up the line she found a tunnel. Figuring it was all they could afford for now, Hildegard chugged in. The signal at the entrance went from green to red, alerting any incoming trains that the tunnel was occupied and not safe to pass through.

The tunnel was curved and about two miles in length. It had a high roof and ventilation shafts spaced along its length to avoid the smoke asphyxiating passengers and crew. Hildegard stopped underneath one of the shafts about halfway along the tunnel. Normally, sunlight would provide natural lighting within the tunnel, but with the storm raging overhead it was very dark. The Crusaders disembarked from the cab and wandered down the tunnel for about 100 feet before returning to Hildegard. “Will we be safe here?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“We’ll be fine,” answered the engine, “The signal at the entrance is red. No trains will enter the tunnel until it turns green again.” A loud clap of thunder echoed through the tunnel. The fillies, scared, ran back into the cab. Hildegard chuckled. “It’s okay, children,” she soothed, “We’ll be fine.”

Unfortunately, Hildegard was wrong. That thunderclap from outside came from a lightning bolt that struck at the entrance to the tunnel. And what it had struck was the signal. Now, only a small flickering flame issued from where the light used to be. Soon enough, the pouring rain extinguished the flame, leaving only the charred frame of the signal and no indication that there was a train in the tunnel.

The storm was still going strong as 1015 raced across the main. He had made a temporary stop at the Crystal Empire to reload on coal and water, as well as to pick up a coach, which he was now pushing. Rarity had complained that 1015’s cab, spacious though it was, was too cramped for all the ponies to fit comfortably. And without a tarpaulin like Hildegard to cover the exposed backside of his cab, 1015 suggested they comply with Rarity’s suggestion of picking up a coach to provide some shelter for the extra crew. Now Rarity, Spike, Blitz, Sunshine, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack sat in the coach, scanning the tracks for obstacles and signals. Twilight, Pinkie, and Fluttershy remained in the cab. Twilight drove, Fluttershy shoveled the coal, and Pinkie tended to the boiler’s water and steam levels. Applejack and Rainbow Dash stood on the observation deck of the coach.

Even with a roof over their heads, Dash and AJ still got pelted by raindrops, making it hard for them to keep a good eye on what was on the track ahead. They could just barely make out the signals, but each one they saw read “all clear.” “I do hope the girls found some shelter from this weather,” said Rarity in a worried voice.

“They’ve got Hildegard,” replied Spike, “I’m sure she’s all the shelter they need.”

“They can’t keep driving in this kind o’ storm, Spike,” said Applejack, “RD and I ain’t having much luck seeing through this wall o’ water.”

“Well, that tunnel up ahead should provide some shelter,” said Dash. Twilight stuck her head out 1015’s cab and saw the tunnel approaching. She blew his whistle as a warning that a train was entering the tunnel. Nothing responded to the whistle, so it seemed as though all was clear.

A rumbling noise echoed through the tunnel. “Thunder again?” asked Applebloom.

“Eh, maybe,” replied Scootaloo in a dull voice. Sweetie Belle listened to it too, but something wasn’t right.

“That can’t be thunder,” she said, “It is not changing volume and it’s really long and drawn out.”

“Well, what else could it be?” asked Scoot.

Sweetie Belle thought for a second, and then a horrified look appeared on her face. “We have to go now!” she exclaimed.

“Why?” asked Scootaloo.

Without the natural lighting from the sun, it was difficult for Dash and AJ to see into the tunnel. “Do we really need to keep looking at nothing but pitch black?” asked Rainbow.

“I guess not,” said Applejack, turning to her friend, “I mean, there’s nothing to indicate that there’s a…”

As Applejack turned her head back towards the tunnel, she saw something that made her jaw drop. Up ahead was a small red light. But this wasn’t just any small red light. It was the tail lamp of a locomotive! Applejack bolted across the vestibule and stuck her head out the back end of the coach. “Down brakes, down brakes!” she shouted as loud as she could.

Applebloom instantly recognized her sister’s voice. She jumped onto the top of the coal pile to see where the voice came from. As she reached the top, she heard the screeching of brakes. Looking over the coal, she saw a passenger coach barreling towards Hildegard with a locomotive coupled behind. Sparks were flying from all the wheels on the train, and as it got closer, Applebloom recognized the shocked face of Rainbow Dash, who was standing on the observation deck paralyzed in fear.

Recovering quickly, Rainbow shot across the vestibule and tackled her husband and daughter, knocking them out of the coach and onto 1015’s pilot, landing against his smokebox saddle. Applejack huddled with them on the pilot. Spike and Rarity also ran across the coach, but Rarity lost her footing and fell onto the floor. “Ooof!” she interjected as she landed on her chin.

“RARITY!” Spike shouted as he saw her fall.

“Spike, keep going; don’t worry about me!” she called out to him.

Sweetie Belle jumped into the driver’s seat and opened Hildegard’s throttle all the way. The Atlantic slipped on the wet rails, however, and didn’t move very far. “Sweetie Belle!” cried Scootaloo, “Get us out of here!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” responded Sweetie. Applebloom dove into the cab and reached for the sanding lever. Sand dropped onto the rails, and Hildegard finally got a grip. But it was too late.

“Twilight!” called out Spike, “Get Rarity off this coach!”

“Where is she?!” shouted Twilight.

“Sorry, my love,” Spike said softly to Rarity. Reaching underneath her, he lifted her up and dangled her head out the window.

“Spike, what the hell are you doing?!” she screamed, her head dangerously close to the tunnel wall. She didn’t get an answer from him, as she felt herself teleported onto the footplate of 1015.

“Spike!” called Twilight. Spike heard her, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he turned towards the observation deck to see Hildegard’s fast-approaching tender.

Hildegard had only moved about 500 feet when the coach smashed into her. It splintered instantly as 1015 plowed through it and slammed into Hildegard’s tender, knocking it off the rails along with its engine. Hildegard jackknifed and spun 135 degrees. Her wheels dug into the ground, acting as a brake on her and 1015. The engines skidded for another mile before stopping completely.

The force field surrounding the ponies on 1015’s pilot dissipated. Sunshine had her head buried in her mother’s chest and was weeping bitterly. Applejack held onto Blitz, his deep breaths interrupted by sobs. In the cab, another force field surrounding Twilight, Rarity, Pinkie, and Fluttershy also dissipated. Twilight’s horn ceased to glow and she lowered her head against the side of the cab. Hearing painful sobs from Hildegard’s cab, Rarity immediately ran over to the Atlantic in search of her sister and friends.

Sweetie Belle and her friends had been knocked hard when Hildegard was struck, but Sweetie ended up flung against the backhead of the boiler, burning her severely. It was her cries of pain that drew Rarity’s attention and prompted the older sister to bolt into the cab. “Oh…oh my darlings…” she gasped as she entered the cab. She was quickly joined by Rainbow Dash and Applejack, both of whom threw themselves upon Scootaloo and Applebloom and hugged them tightly. Rarity was more ginger with her injured sister, examining the burns on her body. She sobbed as she gazed upon Sweetie’s sorry state.

“We need to get them back to the Crystal Empire right away,” said Twilight as she entered the cab.

“Is 1015 alright?” asked Applejack.

“I’m okay, more or less,” answered his voice in Twilight’s head. She repeated his reply to Applejack.

“I’m not exactly in the best shape right now,” said Hildegard, “But I can still run.”

“How bad is it?” asked Rarity, directing Twilight to her injured sister. Twilight examined the burns.

“They’re not life-threatening, but she needs medical attention,” she answered. Rarity let out a small sigh of relief.

“Blitz and Sunshine are shaken up, but they’re not physically hurt,” said Fluttershy. Twilight nodded, and then looked over at Pinkie.

Pinkie’s eyes were wider than anyone had ever seen them before. Her hooves were clasped over her mouth, and she looked like she was going to cry. “Pinkie, what’s wrong?” asked Twilight. Pinkie removed one of the hooves from her mouth and pointed it at the pile of splintered wood under 1015’s drivers that used to be the coach body. And there, sticking out of the debris, under the drivers of 1015, was a small purple claw. Twilight’s eyes widened as much as Pinkie’s, she gasped, and…

“SPIKE!!”

Light in the Dark

Gallow sat back upon her bench, studying the panels she had completed. She still hadn’t decided the final layout of Iron’s coffin, but at least all her options were now laid out in front of her. Some of the panels were woodcuts of trains based off drawings of old; others were images of the Mane 6, some showing individual ponies, others showing all six together. She had also completed a small portrait of Ironside as he would appear once in the coffin. This was the only other part that was certain to end up in the final design.

In amazement, somepony whistled beside her. Startled, Gallow wheeled around to see who the visitor was. “You did all that on your own?” asked Thanatos as he pointed his hoof at the coffin panels.

“Oh, it’s just you,” said Gallow in relief, “I thought you were one of the guards.”

“That doesn’t exactly answer my question,” said Thanatos.

“Oh, yeah I did these by myself,” answered Gallow.

"Very nice work, Gallow,” said Thanatos in admiration, “Ironside would be proud of you.” Gallow agreed in a much softer voice.

Looking over at him, Gallow noticed that apart from his white coat and dark circles around his eyes, Thanatos was almost identical to Ironside. He had the same jet black mane and tail, and he was a Pegasus as well. “Do I remind you of somepony?” asked Thanatos when he noticed her studying him. Gallow shifted her gaze towards the coffin lid bearing Iron’s cutie mark. “Ah, I see,” said Thanatos softly. He trotted over to the small portrait and studied it for a bit. “He does look kind of like me,” he noted smiling.

“So is he gone?” asked Gallow.

“You mean is he dead?” emphasized Thanatos. Gallow nodded. “Honestly, I don’t know,” said Thanatos.

Gallow looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean you don’t know? You’re death incarnate! You take the souls of the deceased away from their bodies. Surely you should know who’s going to die and who’s already died!” Thanatos shook his head and pulled out what appeared to be a silver pocket watch around his neck. Just then, a red gemstone in the center of the watch blinked twice. Thanatos pressed the crown of the watch with his hoof. A sucking noise emanated from the watch, which was followed by the gemstone going from red to white and then back to red.

“I don’t separate souls from bodies, Gallow,” he explained, “I just collect them once they’ve been separated. This “watch” of mine is actually my gathering apparatus. When the red gem blinks twice, it means a soul has been permanently separated from its body and must be gathered. I press the crown, and the soul goes into the gatherer. The gem goes red to white when a successful collection has been achieved. At the end of each week, I twist the crown thrice, and the gatherer opens up to release the souls into the afterlife. It beats the heck out of having to gather souls manually.”

“So, you don’t keep track of whose soul you collected, and you don’t collect manually anymore,” said Gallow.

“Well, not quite,” corrected Thanatos, “I’ll still gather souls by hoof if I think I should. The gatherer just makes it easier to collect souls en masse. And it’s an actual mechanical watch too, so I do need to fine tune it every once in a blue moon.” He twisted the crown once and pressed down on it. When he opened the gatherer, however, he noticed a familiar face looking back at him from the inside cover in fear. He quickly closed the device and looked up at Gallow in seriousness. “There’s something I need to take care of personally, Gallow. I can’t stay.”

“The coffin’s not even assembled yet,” said Gallow, “You haven’t missed much.”

“Don’t rush it, kid. There’s still time,” said Thanatos. Without another word, he bolted out the window and disappeared from view.

Coupled together, 1015 and Hildegard dashed back to the Crystal Empire as fast as their wheels could carry them. Twilight sat in the driver’s chair holding onto her injured dragon. Spike had been struck by 1015 when the latter smashed through the coach and rear-ended Hildegard. He avoided being squished between the two engines (instant death for sure), but getting hit by a speeding locomotive is horrific in its own right. Sweetie Belle had fared better, but the burns she sustained required medical attention. Rarity, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash remained in Hildegard’s cab, tending to the Atlantic. To keep 1015’s steam pressure up, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie had to alternate adjusting the water level and shoveling coal. 1015 seemed to be running lame, and it later turned out that the impact separated his left-hand low-pressure piston from its rod.

Passengers on the platform stood in shock as the two engines reversed their drive wheels and skidded to a stop beside the station. Shining Armor and Cadence made their way through the crowd in search of Twilight and her friends. Catching sight of her, they both waved to indicate where they were. Quickly, Twilight and Rarity jumped from the engines’ cabs carrying their injured siblings on their backs. Armor and Cadence ran ahead of them towards the infirmary in the castle, the group followed closely by the rest of the Crusaders and the Mane 6. As the ponies ran past, they failed to catch a glimpse of a white-coated Pegasus with dark circles around his eyes.

Spike was lucky. His thick scales had prevented his internals from being mashed upon contact with 1015’s steel cowcatcher, and being a dragon, his skeleton withstood the impact. Nevertheless, he was in a poor state of health. Several of his blood vessels had been ruptured, and he had internal bruises as well. It would be a while before he was even well enough to get out of bed. Twilight stood beside the operating table the whole time, watching as the medical unicorns worked their magic (literally) to repair the damage as best they could. A couple of rooms over Sweetie Belle’s burns were treated. She asked to have her friends and her sister by her side since the skin had to be peeled off the worst parts and it was not going to be enjoyable in the least.

Meanwhile, Armor and Cadence took 1015 and Hildegard to the machine shop for repairs. Hildegard suffered damage to her cab, running board, trailing truck, and tender in the crash. As I stated before, 1015’s low-pressure piston separated from its rod, so his whole cylinder assembly had to be removed. Hildegard had her cab, running board, and trailing truck removed for repairs as well. Luckily for them, the Crystal Empire had very well-trained machinists on standby, so repairs would only take a few hours.

The hours passed. Day became dusk. Ironside, M, and Hippo continued their trek across the abandoned line towards Huckleberry. The machinists finished up their repairs on 1015 and Hildegard. Spike and Sweetie Belle had both been successfully treated and were now resting in their beds. Twilight stood by her little dragon’s bedside, never taking her eyes off him. As he departed the Empire, Thanatos looked at the inside cover of his watch. Spike’s reflection was no longer there. He nodded, closed the watch, tucked it inside his cloak, and once again disappeared from view.

Twilight was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in,” she called.

Shining Armor stepped in. “Twily, could we step out onto the balcony for a bit?” he asked.

“Of course,” she answered. The two siblings stepped out. Without another word Twilight flung her arms around her brother, who immediately did the same to her. “I don’t know what happened, Armor,” whispered Twilight, “One minute we’re in a tunnel and the next…”

“Did you check the signal at the entrance?” asked Armor.

Twilight looked up at him. “What signal?”

“There’s a signal at the entrance to the tunnel. It should’ve been red at the time,” answered Armor.

“There was no red light. Every light I saw before entering the tunnel was green,” said Twilight. Looking into the sky, Armor could see the storm clouds now drifting away from the Empire. It didn’t take him long to figure out what happened.

“The storm must’ve taken out the signal at the entrance. You didn’t see a red light because it was bust.” Twilight looked over to Spike in his bed. “So it’s not your fault, little sis,” said Armor. Twilight tightened her hug.

Only when she had to eat dinner did Twilight leave Spike’s room. It wasn’t the only time she planned on leaving, however. Dusk soon gave way to night as Celestia and Luna performed their nightly routine. Twilight, realizing that she couldn’t write a letter without Spike, instead gave the Princesses a call to inform them on their progress so far. Both were shocked to learn of the accident in the tunnel and hoped that Spike would recover soon. After wishing them a good night, Twilight called Rarity into the room. “How’s Sweetie Belle?” asked Twilight.

“She’s recovering nicely, thank heavens,” replied Rarity.

“Listen, I need you to watch Spike for me,” said Twilight.

“Oh, of course I will! Anything for Spikey,” agreed Rarity.

“Good, because I’m going after Ironside,” continued Twilight.

“On your own?” asked Rarity.

“Yes,” answered Twilight, “I already put all my friends in serious peril today. I can’t risk that happening again.”

“But, Twilight…” began Rarity.

“Please Rarity, don’t argue with me this time. Stay here and take care of the girls and Spike.”

Rarity sighed and agreed. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, darling,” she said. Twilight nodded.

She trotted back over to Spike’s bedside and leaned in close to him. “Rarity’s going to take care of you for now, Spike,” she whispered to him. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Get well soon.” With that, she kissed him gingerly on the forehead.

Rarity smiled and hugged her. “Take care, dear,” she said softly.

“I will,” Twilight replied. Rarity watched as Twilight trotted out of the room and down the staircase.

1015 sat sizzling outside the roundhouse. He had just finished a test run to see if the repairs to his LP piston would hold and was about to be backed into the shed for the night. Hildegard already had her fire dropped and was fast asleep. As 1015 waited, his headlight caught sight of Twilight galloping towards him. “Hey Twilight, what’s up?” he asked as she approached.

“You and I are continuing the chase,” she replied.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked, “It’s late. You should be getting some rest with the rest of the group.”

“Every minute we sit here doing nothing is another minute Ironside gets to run off somewhere and leave us wondering where he is,” she said.

“Then you’re going to need a backup driver,” said Shining Armor as he approached.

“You don’t need to do this, bro,” said Twilight, “I can run 1015 on my own.”

Armor chuckled. “If I recall, you tend to check out at around midnight. We won’t reach Silverton until 3 am.”

“So? I’ll just make some coffee to keep me awake,” responded Twilight.

“2398 has the coffee set,” entered 1015, “Ironside does the late-night runs with him the most.” Twilight realized that there was now no reason why Armor shouldn’t go with her.

“The last thing you want to do is fall asleep at the controls, Twily,” said Armor, “So I’ll be your fireman and backup driver.”

Twilight sighed. “Alright, if you’re sure Cadence is okay with you running off in the middle of the night with me...”

“She already knows, as do the rest of the girls,” said Armor, “Rarity explained everything. They’re okay with you going, but they wanted somepony with you.”

The two ponies climbed into the cab. “How’s your piston holding up?” asked Twilight.

“It’s fixed; shouldn’t dislocate this time,” replied 1015. The Prairie slowly steamed away from the shed and onto the main line, gathering speed as he went. Rarity watched from the balcony as 1015 steamed off into the distance. Spike too was watching from his bed.

“Good luck, guys,” he said softly. Rarity looked back at him and smiled.

“They’ll be back before you know it, darling,” she said. Spike smiled back at her before drifting off to sleep.

Huckleberry

Hippo and his cargo arrived in Huckleberry at around 10 o’clock that night. M was unloaded from her flatcar and rolled back into the shed for the night. As soon as Ironside stepped down from Hippo’s cab, another engineer and his fireman hopped in. “You’re not staying?” asked Ironside.

“I can’t,” replied the Decapod, “I got to be back in Silverton to catch the 9:15 freight. Work never stops for you when you’re a freight engine.”

“Sorry you couldn’t catch much of a break,” said Iron.

“Nah, I’m used to it. I’m built for it, honestly,” replied Hippo.

“Well, thanks for all the help,” said Ironside.

“No problem at all, sonny!” called Hippo as his new crew backed him down towards the wye. Iron waved goodbye to the engine and crew before turning his attention to M.

It was clear that the all-day run had left Iron feeling pretty worn out as he slowly trotted into the shed. “How you feeling?” he asked as sat down on M’s pilot.

“My drivers fell asleep, but I’m pretty comfortable,” she answered.

“Will you be able to run tomorrow?” the engineer asked.

“That’s a pretty dumb question to ask, Iron,” she replied, “I should be the one questioning you.” Ironside yawned as if on cue. “Yep, that’s a sign you need to get some rest,” M said.

“Well, I did drive all the way here in one day,” he said groggily, “But I still need to make sure you’re set for tomorrow.” As he said this, however, he fell back and smacked his head against M’s smokebox.

“No, no, no. You sleep. Now,” commanded M. Ironside groaned as he lay down on her pilot. “No whining. You sleep,” she said again.

“I’m not whining, I’m complaining,” he murmured.

“No complaining. Sleep,” said M a third time. Iron smiled and closed his eyes.

“As you wish,” he said softly.

Shining Armor was right on both counts. Twilight fell asleep around midnight, meaning that Armor had to both drive and stoke 1015, and the engine arrived in Silverton at around 3 in the morning. Unsurprisingly, there was no one around. Seeing that all the buildings in town were closed, Armor backed 1015 into a siding and dropped his fire. After that, he wrote a letter to Cadence instructing her to not let the girls continue their chase. They were to remain in the Crystal Empire until Twilight and he returned with Ironside. Cadence responded in agreement. After wishing her husband and sister-in-law good night, she relayed Armor’s instructions to the rest of the Mane 6. Dash, Blitz, and Sunny weren’t happy. “I know Twilight doesn’t want us risking our lives again, but it feels like we’re totally useless right now,” complained Dash.

“I know what you mean, RD,” said Applejack, “It seems like we came all this way for nothing.”

“It’s nothing you could’ve foreseen,” said Cadence, “There’s no reason to go around kicking yourselves for it.”

“Besides, have some faith in Armor and Twilight,” added Rarity, “They’ll bring Ironside back.”

“Well I for one wish that I was with them,” said Blitz.

“Me too,” said Sunshine with a sigh.

“Same here,” said Rainbow Dash. Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy nodded in agreement. It was very frustrating not being able to partake in the rescue mission they had been so eager to execute. They wanted to be sure that Ironside was safe and sound when they brought him back.

“Armor promised that he would keep me updated on what’s happening,” said Cadence, sensing their frustration, “We’ll know right away if anything happens.” Her reassurance didn’t do much to lighten the mood.

“It ain’t the same,” said AJ, “It’d be better if we were actually there in case anything did go south.”

Cadence sighed. “I’m sorry, girls, but Twilight and Armor were adamant that we leave it to them.” She looked over to the bed where Spike was sleeping. “Spike was lucky to have survived that crash. The next time something like that was to happen, whoever was involved mightn’t be so lucky.” The ponies’ gazes followed hers to Spike, and they understood why the siblings were going alone.

Dash trotted over and gingerly stroked Spike’s head. “And what if something does go wrong again? We won’t be there to help.”

“Like Rarity said, have some faith in them,” answered Cadence, “They’ve always been looking out for each other.”

As dawn broke the next morning, Ironside awoke to the sound of cars rumbling along the rails in the yard. He also heard the sounds of laughter and whooping, as if whoever was working in the yard was having a bit too much fun. Rubbing his eyes, he slid off M’s pilot and stepped outside to investigate. His drowsy state was suddenly shattered by a string of hoppers roaring past with no locomotive attached. Quickly turning his head in the direction of the cars, he caught sight of the source of the commotion. Sitting inside the lead hopper was a young black alicorn with a worn black leather jacket, red stripes on his coat, a blond mane with red highlights, a goatee, a broken horn, goggles, red metal plates on his wings, and leather boots. His broken horn glowed bright red, and as he jumped from one string of hoppers to another, Ironside noticed that the wheels of the leading car would glow the same red hue. “Out of the way, bro!” he shouted as the hoppers flew by nearly striking Ironside.

“Holy shit, man, what the hell are you doing?!” exclaimed Ironside.

“My job!” called the alicorn as he flew past on yet another string of cars. He then jumped off the lead boxcar and landed right in front of Ironside.

“Your job is to joyride on freight trains in the rail yard?” asked the incredulous Pegasus.

“No man, I’m the shunter here,” replied the alicorn. Ironside took a quick glance at what he realized was a license plate pinned to the side of the jacket.

“Roadkill?” asked Iron.

“At your service,” said the alicorn bowing.

Iron looked Roadkill over and smirked. “An appropriate name, if you ask me.”

Roadkill stood up with a very toothy grin on his face. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it, bro.”

“My name’s Ironside, actually,” replied the engineer. Roadkill looked at the steel leading edges on the Pegasus’s wings.

“Now there’s an appropriate name,” he said still smiling. There was something about Roadkill’s personality that Ironside already seemed to like.

“So what brings you here to Huckleberry?” asked the alicorn.

“I brought my engine here to visit her brother,” replied Iron.

“Her brother?” asked Roadkill.

“Yeah, 464,” answered the engineer. Roadkill’s eyes widened. He never knew that any of 464’s siblings survived the scrapper’s torch.

“Stay here for just a second,” said Roadkill. He flew off toward a shed on the opposite side of the yard. A few minutes later, Huckleberry (the engine) steamed out of his stall and toward the engineer with Roadkill trotting alongside.

“Does John speak the truth?” asked the K-27.

“John?” asked Ironside. Roadkill waved at him. “Oh. Oh yeah, I brought 463 with me,” replied Iron smiling. He could tell that what he said had a profound impact on Huck, as the engine’s safety valve popped out of sheer joy.

“Sister!!!” he screamed as he charged full steam ahead toward her shed. As if that wasn’t eye-popping enough for Iron, he then noticed that Roadkill was still standing next to him.

“Whoa…wait…what? Why aren’t you on the footplate?” Roadkill pointed to his snapped horn and its red glow.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t run his sister through the wall,” said Roadkill.

“Sister!” called Huck again, “It’s me, 464!” M shot awake.

“464! I’m in here!” she called from inside her stall. Roadkill magically opened the stall doors and lowered Huck’s speed to avoid him damaging M by running into her. As soon as the doors were opened, Huck steamed into the stall and hooked up to his sister. “It’s been so long, brother!” exclaimed M, “I missed you so much!”

“I know, right?!” exclaimed her brother.

“Come on, 463,” said Roadkill, “You’re not sitting in there all day.” Huck then began to drag his sister out of the shed.

“Hey, hey, hey! What’re you doing?! I’m not ready yet!” exclaimed M.

“Sorry, sis,” said Huck, “John’s in control right now.”

“Who’s John?” asked M. Roadkill waved at her. “Well could you tell John that my drivers are a little seized up right now?” she asked indignantly. Roadkill didn’t need to be told twice (he could hear M, after all). He relinquished control of Huck and let Ironside uncouple him from M.

Ironside went around oiling M’s running gear before allowing Huck to pull his sister out of her stall. Unfortunately, Huck wasn’t under the control of an actual engineer, so he pulled M out a bit too fast for her tastes. Realizing this, Roadkill reversed Huck’s valve gear, causing the drivers to spin forwards as the two engines skidded backwards. The rapid deceleration caused the engines’ couplers to compress, and M felt as if she would slam headfirst into her brother. “Sorry, sis,” Huck said again.

“Don’t blame yourself,” said M in an annoyed voice, “You’re not the one in control right now.”

“John, do you even know how to drive a train?” asked Ironside.

“Eh, kinda,” replied Roadkill, “I was never actually assigned an engine because I just use my magic to shunt the cars around.”

“Alex, please stop this guy before he wrecks us both!” shouted M.

“John, maybe I should control Huck for now. M is getting pretty shaken up the way you’re driving Huck.”

“You better ask his driver first,” said Roadkill.

“And who’s his driver?” asked Ironside.

“Trixie,” answered Roadkill.

Again Ironside did a double take. “Wait, Trixie? You mean as in…”

“The Great and Powerful? Yes,” answered a familiar voice.

Ironside turned around to see Trixie appear from behind the shed. His jaw went completely slack the moment he saw her. Roadkill trotted up beside him and lifted his jaw back up to his head. “Well, if it isn’t the legendary royal engineer himself,” mused Trixie as she approached. Ironside blushed.

“She called me legendary,” he whispered to Roadkill.

“What brings you to this side of the country?” asked Trixie. Iron cleared his throat.

“I, uh… I was going to ask you the same question,” he answered timidly.

“Well, I had to find someplace to make a living after I got myself kicked out of Ponyville,” said Trixie.

“I understand that, but…a railroad?” replied the engineer, “I thought you didn’t trust wheeled objects.”

“That was until I started working in the mines at Silverton,” answered Trixie, “I asked to have the wheels taken off my mine cart as a result. Two words: bad idea.”

“Throw your back out?” asked the engineer.

“I was lucky not to dislocate my shoulder blades,” replied the magician. Ironside smiled; he knew her distrust of wheels wouldn’t last forever.

“So what made you decide to become a locomotive driver?” he asked.

“Two weeks of hauling mine carts and I’d had it,” said Trixie, sweeping her hoof across for emphasis. “I wanted to keep the job, just not the back breaking. So I trained myself to drive trains.”

“Do you have a fireman?” asked Iron. Trixie shook her head.

“No need,” she answered pointing to her horn.

“That’s why she holds you in high regard,” said Roadkill, “You drive solo too, but you’re not a unicorn.” Trixie nodded in response.

“In any case,” she continued, “You haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“Did you know that your engine has a sister?” he asked, turning his head towards the K-27s. It was then that Trixie realized that there were indeed two K-27s sitting there on the spur.

“Oh my,” she said incredulous, “I never knew there was another Mudhen. I thought Huckleberry was the only one left.”

“Huckleberry?” asked M.

“Yeah, that’s the nickname they gave me,” said her brother.

“It’s better than mine,” admitted M.

“Why, what’s yours?” asked Huck.

“Take the first letter of our class nickname, and you got it,” his sister answered. Huck snickered.

“Since you’re here, Ironside,” said Trixie, “I think it’s only proper that we give you a tour of the town.”

“Wait until you see my favorite hangout spot,” said Roadkill as he, Trixie, and Ironside climbed into Huck’s cab. Trixie beckoned Iron over to her.

“Trust me, it’s nowhere you want to loiter for long,” she whispered. Ironside pondered over what she said as the two engines rolled down into town.

Hell on Wheels

Back in Silverton, while Ironside was getting acquainted with Roadkill and reacquainted with Trixie, Shining Armor and Twilight awoke from their slumber and began searching the town for their engineer. Every building they entered was combed for information about him or his whereabouts. As it turns out, Ironside spent almost no time in town at all; the townsfolk were very well acquainted with one another: if anyone had been away for a significant amount of time, they’d know. The last building in town they would check was the saloon. It was the last place they expected to find any news about Iron, but Twilight wanted a thorough check of the town, so off they went.

The saloon’s lounge wasn’t very crowded that day. There were a few conversations occurring around the bar, but they were hushed. Nevertheless, an eerie silence fell upon the establishment the moment the two royal siblings walked inside. Every head turned to face them. The only emotion to be found on the faces that fell upon the siblings was astonishment. Twilight and Armor scanned their surroundings, staring briefly at each face that locked eyes on them. The patrons quickly turned their gazes elsewhere as soon as either one of the unicorns looked back at them, only to go back to staring as the two ponies approached the bar.

The bartender lowered his head in respect as Twilight and Armor arrived at the bar. “Welcome, Your Highnesses,” he said, “How can I help you today?”

“We’re looking for an engineer,” answered Armor.

“Many of our patrons are engineers, Sire,” said the bartender.

“His name is Ironside,” put in Twilight.

Just then, a mare wearing a ten-gallon hat tapped the bar with her hoof. “Chester, I’d like to buy two sarsaparillas for the Prince and Princess.” Chester pulled out a large bottle and poured the contents into two large glasses, which he then slid across the bar towards Twilight and Armor. They caught their glasses and stared at the dark brown liquid inside.

The mare placed her payment on the bar, stood up off her stool, and trotted over to join the siblings. “That’s his favorite drink,” she said taking a seat next to Armor. Twilight figured that this mare must have known Ironside personally; no one else even knew his name.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Theofillya, mayor of this fine town,” answered the mare, “I’m the one who found Ironside when he landed here last year.”

“He’s been here for that long?” asked Armor in surprise.

“Yep, and he’s the finest engineer I’ve ever laid eyes upon,” answered Theofillya. Armor looked back into his glass and scrunched his face.

“This is his favorite beverage?” he asked with a tone of disgust.

“It’s like old-school root beer,” replied the mayor, “I’ll be shocked if you don’t know what that tastes like.” Armor cautiously brought the glass to his lips and tilted it back. To his surprise and relief, it was delicious.

Twilight took a few sips from her glass before continuing the conversation. “We’re friends of Ironside,” she said.

“I know you are, Twilight- excuse me, Princess Twilight,” said Theofillya.

“When did he start working on the railroad again?” asked Twilight.

“Oh, as soon as he told me he was an engineer,” replied Theofillya, “We’d been short one of his kind for some time. We had an ol’ K-27 that nopony would drive. She lucked out when he showed up.” Twilight leaned in closer to her brother.

“How could he have gotten another job after he left Ponyville so soon?” she asked.

“What happens in Canterlot doesn’t get mentioned all over Equestria, sis,” he replied, “It took Cadence and me a while just to find this place on the map. They probably don’t know what he did because they don’t get news this far away.”

“If you’re talking about why Ironside left Ponyville and vowed to never return, I do know what happened,” interrupted Theofillya, “But here is not the best place to discuss it.”

“How much has Ironside told you?” asked Armor in suspicion.

“Enough for me to know that he made a terrible mistake and he doesn’t believe there’s any way he can fix it,” Theofillya answered. Twilight and Armor finished their drinks before joining Theofillya outside.

The mayor led them to the yards just outside of town. “He’s a nice kid,” praised Theofillya, “After his drunken beatdown on Gallow, he practically gave up alcohol wholesale. But he’s been suffering from insomnia for a long time now. Apparently the memories of what happened still haunt him. I can’t blame him for feeling so guilty for what happened.”

“How do you know all of this, ma’am?” asked Armor.

“Aside from M, I’m the only one he felt comfortable talking to,” she responded.

“Who’s M?” inquired Twilight.

“She’s the K-27 I mentioned earlier: an old Mikado from Baldwin. She’s a strong and very friendly engine; I don’t know why nopony wanted to drive her,” said the mayor.

“So can we see Ironside?” asked Twilight.

“That all depends,” replied Theofillya, “What are you planning on doing with him once he comes back?”

“Wait, you mean he’s not here?” asked Armor.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Your Highness,” said the mayor.

“We just want to bring him home,” replied Twilight, “Gallow believes he’s dead and has been obsessed with making a special coffin for him. We need him to prove to her that he’s not dead.”

“That’s all?” asked the mayor, “You’re just here to show her that he’s still alive and then you’re gonna drop him off back here?”

An indignant look crossed Twilight’s face. “I’d like to have him stay with us in Ponyville, thank you very much.”

“I understand, dear,” said the mayor, “But engineers like him aren’t a dime a dozen. I don’t want to lose an asset like him.”

Twilight was about to counter that as Princess, she had more authority than Theofillya and therefore had the final say in whether or not Iron would remain in Silverton, but Armor spoke first. “Well, is there any pony or engine that would want Iron’s job? I’m sure that they would be able to fill his place.” Theofillya thought for a moment and then turned her gaze towards the two Consolidations resting inside the roundhouse. Armor followed her gaze. “Those two,” he pointed out, “What is their job on the railroad?”

“Until a couple days ago, they were the motive power for our tourist trains,” the mayor replied, “A pretty thankless job if you ask them. They’ve wanted to pull ore trains all their lives, and now they’ve got what they wanted.”

“What happened a couple days ago?” asked Twilight.

“Ironside left for Huckleberry,” answered Theofillya, “He said he found M’s long-lost brother there. It’s about a seven-hour journey if you go fast.”

Twilight sighed. She didn’t want to continue chasing Ironside around, but she knew it might be her only chance of bringing him back. “The engine we’re using is over there,” she said, turning her head to 1015. Theofillya looked at him. “Do you think we can make it in seven hours?” Twilight asked. Theofillya nodded. “Look, I know you value Iron’s contributions to your work force,” said Twilight, “But as Princess of Equestria I have the final say in whether or not he remains under your employment.”

“Theofillya,” put in Armor, “We’re not the only ones who want Ironside back. Princesses Celestia and Luna are both good friends of his, and they’ve missed him dearly.”

“I know, he told me,” said Theofillya.

“Then will you let him come back with us?” asked Twilight.

The mayor sighed. “I don’t really have much choice. I’m going to miss the lad.”

“We’ll be passing through one last time before we return him to Ponyville. You can say your goodbyes then,” said Armor.

Twilight and Armor soon had 1015 racing along the old Silverton-Huckleberry line. While they were on their way, Ironside, Trixie, Roadkill, and the K-27s arrived in downtown Huckleberry. The town had the same rustic appearance of Silverton and the same buildings. There was a general store, a saloon, a few hotels, a sheriff’s office, a small town hall, an undertaker, and a blacksmith. Roadkill made a beeline for the saloon while Trixie backed the engines into a siding near the station. “Are we heading into the saloon too?” asked Ironside.

“Yeah, I feel like a few pints would be nice right now,” replied Trixie.

“Don’t you have work to do today?” inquired the engineer.

“I’ll tell you about it when we get inside,” answered the magician with a sigh.

The saloon was known as Hell on Wheels, and the sign hanging over the entrance depicted a flaming locomotive drive wheel. Iron smiled in amusement upon noticing the sign. “You know, when they were building the railroads, the first thing they built in town was a saloon.”

“I can only imagine why that would be,” replied Trixie, “Railroading is tiring.” Iron was confused by Trixie’s answer; he never once thought that working with trains would be exhausting enough to drive a pony to drink. Then again, he did partake of the bottle quite a few times himself in the past, but never because he was stressed out from work.

Sure enough, the saloon was every bit as accurate a depiction of unruly behavior as Iron had read in the history books. There were gamblers, drinkers, and showgirls aplenty, and Roadkill already had a select few of the latter gathered around him at one end of the parlor. Trixie and Ironside trotted up to the bar and sat upon the stools. Trixie removed her hat, placed it on the bar, and buried her head in her hooves. The bartender seemed to instantly recognize her, as he approached her almost immediately. “Can I get you the usual, Ms. Trixie?” he asked. Trixie nodded. The bartender then turned to Ironside. “How about you, son?” he asked.

“Just a sarsaparilla for me,” the engineer replied, “I’m her ride home.” The bartender nodded and retrieved two bottles for the ponies. Noticing that Trixie hadn’t put any money on the bar, Iron decided to pay for both drinks and laid the three-and-a-half bits down when the bartender returned. Trixie magically popped the cap off her bottle and took a couple of swigs before speaking.

“Do you enjoy your job, Iron?” she asked. Iron took a swig from his bottle.

“Of course,” he answered, “It’s been my dream since I was very young.” He then realized where the conversation was heading. “You don’t like driving trains, do you?” Trixie shook her head in reply. “Is it because you need the money?” he asked. Trixie nodded. Iron patted her on the back and then glanced over at Roadkill and his posse of showgirls. “Well, it could be worse,” he said. Trixie lifted her head up and followed Iron’s gaze.

“At least they’re there to entertain folks,” she muttered.

“Would you actually take that job?” asked the engineer.

“If it meant being able to do what I’ve always wanted, then yes,” the magician replied.

“What is it you’ve always wanted?” asked Ironside.

“To be the greatest magician of all time, of course,” Trixie answered.

“Then why haven’t you concentrated on becoming that?” Iron inquired further. Trixie sighed again and looked down at her beer.

“My magic isn’t good enough,” she said softly. Iron was taken aback. Trixie had never admitted to being bad at anything before. “And you know just as well as I do that money doesn’t grow on trees,” she continued, “We need to make livings for ourselves. This was the only job I found that paid well, but I didn’t expect it to be so stressful. And having Roadkill as a co-worker doesn’t help too much either.”

As Iron turned his gaze back to Roadkill, he noticed the girls were getting rather frisky with him. “Uh, maybe we should continue this talk outside,” he said, “I think Roadkill’s about to get lucky in the nastiest way…” Trixie looked and agreed. The two ponies stepped out of the bar, leaving the patrons inside to deal with what was to come. They sat down on a rocking bench outside the front door and picked up the conversation. “So you want to become the greatest magician of all time,” said Iron, “Is it just for the fame and glory?”

“I want to make a name for myself, Iron,” answered Trixie, “I mean, look at you. You’re the Casey Jones of our time. You’re a Royal Engineer. To say that you haven’t made a name for yourself is horseshit!”

“I didn’t plan on becoming famous, Trixie,” replied Iron, “In fact I don’t think I’m even that famous.”

“But look at where your natural talent has gotten you,” said Trixie, “Aren’t you happy that ponies will remember you for something special you did?” Ironside thought for a minute and then nodded.

“That’s what I want, Iron,” said Trixie, “I want to be remembered because I did something worthwhile with my life. The way things are right now, I’ll be lucky if I’m remembered for all the trouble I caused in Ponyville.” Ironside turned to see a look of genuine sadness on Trixie’s face. “My dream is as good as dead now,” she said softly. As if on cue, Iron put his arm around her and pulled her in close.

“Trixie, you shouldn’t give up on your dreams. Otherwise, what else is there to live for?”

“How am I supposed to keep living for my dream if my dream isn’t even attainable?” she asked.

“I think your opportunity looked you straight in the eye a few times before,” he answered.

“Twilight?” asked Trixie incredulously. Iron smiled and nodded. “Would she even consider me as a student after all the trouble I caused?” she asked.

“You officially apologized for that, didn’t you?” responded Iron. Trixie nodded. “Then you’ve still got a chance. You only left as part of the deal you made from that duel.”

Trixie smiled. For once, her dream of becoming the greatest magician Equestria had ever seen didn’t look so dead after all. “Ironside, never before has anypony told me that I was capable of doing anything useful with my life. I guess that’s why I was such a jerk to you all; I never had any genuine support. I thought I was on my own.”

“Loneliness is an illusion we all seem capable of producing, and it’s a very convincing one too. But it’s one that we can’t afford to fall for.” Trixie leaned her head against Iron’s.

“Thank you, Ironside,” she said softly. Iron simply smiled and squeezed her gently.

The moment was interrupted by a drunken patron stumbling out of the saloon and turning to the ponies. “Hey guys,” he said in a slurred voice, “Orgy. In the house. Right now. It’s awesome.” At that he stumbled back inside.

“I just realized that we left our drinks in there,” said Ironside.

“I’m not going back in there,” replied Trixie.

“Neither am I.”

Dark Matters

It was eerily dark and cloudy that night in Huckleberry. 1015 sat quietly outside the sheds in miserable silence. Inside the roundhouse sobs could be heard. A scroll inside the mail shelves was gingerly lifted from its cubicle and laid upon the desk below. A candle was lit and placed next to the document, which was then read aloud.

“‘I, Alexander Matthias William Baldwin, being of sound mind and body, do dictate this last will and testament in full honesty,’” read Twilight Sparkle. She paused, letting the words sink in. The sobs to be heard were those of Trixie, who came across the will earlier that evening when Ironside mysteriously disappeared from the town. Twilight temporarily thought that this must have been a forged document, but a quick glance at the penmanship confirmed that this was indeed Iron’s own writing. She continued to read the document.

Those whom I consider my dearest friends and family (if they ever do come across this document, which I highly doubt) may wonder why I am writing my last will down when I am in no danger of perishing. Well, it is because I have decided that my time has come. Those who are familiar with the incident in which I physically assaulted a filly by the name of Gallow Drop will know that I was banished from Canterlot and Ponyville as punishment for my transgression. For that, I wanted to say that I am truly sorry. It was wrong of me to hurt young Gallow for what was nothing more than an accident.

It is because of the incident described above that I have decided to end my life. Princess Twilight Sparkle was furious with me for assaulting Gallow, as she rightly should have been, and permanently banished me from the cities of Canterlot and Ponyville. It was at that point that I realized that I had severed the bonds of friendship that I cherished for so long and continue to do so, even though I realize that forgiveness is impossible. The ghosts of that fateful day have haunted me ever since. It is for that reason that I must take my own life and distribute the possessions that I leave behind to those whom I feel would appreciate having them in their possession. At least they could consider it as a way of me saying sorry. I forfeited any value my life once had that day. My belongings are really the only valuable things I can give.

Royal Bavarian State Railways Engine No. 2398, Atchison Topeka & Santa Fe Engines Nos. 1015 and 940, and Danish State Railways Engine No. 917 are to remain in the hooves of Princesses Celestia and Luna of Equestria. All four of these locomotives have served the crowns well for various amounts of time, and I know that they will continue to serve for many more years. As their driver, I ask that any engineer wishing to operate them be taught the proper techniques for operation and maintenance of compound steam locomotives. The library in Ponyville has many useful engineering journals and articles describing said topics.

Denver & Rio Grande Western Engine No. 463 shall remain under the control of the Huckleberry Railway. Engine 463 has waited almost 60 years to be reunited with her brother, Engine 464. One of my last accomplishments was to find Huckleberry (as he is named) and bring M (463) to him. Since they are finally together once more, I want them to remain together. They are the last of their class; they at least deserve to be in each other’s company.

With the situation of my locomotives sorted, I must now move on to the matter of distributing my possessions. To Twilight Sparkle and Spike, I leave my personal library. The books contained within cover a wide variety of topics, and I feel that both will enjoy browsing through their pages. My collection is nowhere near the size and scope of the library in Ponyville, yet I feel that it will make a nice addition. I hope that this gift will remind them both of the kind and caring pony I once was, and remind them as well of how much I love them.

To Pinkamena Diane “Pinkie” Pie, I leave my collection of family recipes and my copies of “Hooves Line Is It Anyway?” in the hopes that she finds them a reminder of all the times we spent together in hysterics, whether it was because of her silly antics or because of the comedy one finds in life naturally. She always knew how to make me smile whenever I felt down, and I have tried many times to return the favor. As for the recipes, I am sure that the Cake family will find them a nice addition to their list of heavenly pastries.

To Rainbow Dash, Blitz, and Sunshine, I leave my collection of albums and my electric bass. Music was the one thing that we all seemed to share a common interest in, regardless of the genre. I wish it to be known that I am eternally grateful to this family for always having my back.

To Rarity, I leave the Presidential car “United States” and my bassoon. I know you have eyed that coach for some time, Rarity, and I feel that an extravagant young mare like you would enjoy this luxury more than anyone else. And I remember too your love of classical music. I am not asking you to take up bassoon in my place, but it should serve as a fine memorial. The generosity of your love is far more than I could ever hope to reciprocate, but I hope that these parting gifts will suffice.

To Applejack and her family, I leave my steam tractor. Originally I lent this to you as a means of increasing your productivity without having to sacrifice the quality for which you are renowned. Seeing as how I no longer have any need for it, it is yours now. I felt that a hard-working family such as you deserved a little mechanical assistance, but I did not want a repeat of the Flim and Flam incident. Remember to care for the engine as you would one of your own. She is a reliable tractor who needs love too.

To Fluttershy, I leave my book of medicinal herbs and remedies and my candle-making materials. I honestly wish there was more I could give to you, my dear; I know not how many times you have heard this, but you truly are the kindest and gentlest pony I know. I felt that these parting gifts would be most appreciated by you, and the candles could provide you with a modest income if you wish to make it a business. I also wanted to say, since this is the last you will hear from me, that I am truly sorry for all the lives that were accidentally taken by my locomotives. I always tried to stop my trains from running over any unfortunate woodland animals that happened to stray upon the line, but trains take a long time to stop, so regrettably most of my efforts were in vain. I hope that you will not hold this against me.

Last but not least, I leave my savings of 393,557 bits to Trixie Lulamoon. Having discussed at length with her what she wanted to do with her life, I felt it necessary to give her my earnings in order that she may continue to follow her dream of becoming the greatest magician in all of Equestria while still being able to support herself. I request that Twilight Sparkle take Trixie in as a student, as she will find nopony better suited to teaching the craft of magic to her.

And so, I bid you all a fond farewell. I am sorry for all the trouble I caused and I hope this makes it up to you. I love you all.

Alexander Matthias William “Ironside” Baldwin

Twilight placed the will down on the desk and turned to Trixie. Trixie by now had stopped sobbing, but she still wore a pained look on her face. “Trixie,” said Twilight, “I’m willing to take you as my student if you promise not to resort to your old ways.”

In stark contrast to her normal flamboyant and formal way of addressing others, Trixie simply replied, “I promise, Twilight. I’ll be the best student you’ve ever had.” She even smiled to try and emphasize her point. Twilight shook her head.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” she said. Trixie’s smile quickly faded; she thought Twilight had rejected her promise to be a good student. Seeing Trixie’s expression, Twilight assured her that she was still going to become a student.

Trixie didn’t smile this time, as she had now returned her attention to the will. Twilight returned her attention to it as well. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes and had to turn her head away so as not to splash the will. Armor, seeing this, embraced his sister and let her weep into his coat. Trixie wasn’t sure what to do, but Armor beckoned her over and had her hug Twilight as well. Roadkill joined the group hug too. M sniffed, trying not to soak her smokebox in tears, but to no avail. Huck puffed a comforting cloud of steam around his sister.

Twilight slowly pulled her away from Armor’s chest. “We can’t go back, bro,” she said, her voice shaking, “I can’t break this kind of news to the girls. They’d be shattered.”

“I don’t know what else to do, Twily,” replied Armor, “We can’t hide this from them.”

“I feel so hopeless, Armor,” said Twilight, “I mean, we came all this way for nothing? After all we went through to get here, all we can return with is Iron’s will?” As she said this, she remembered what Celestia had said about not being able to save some friends. For once, Celestia had said something that didn’t help. She began to cry again and lowered her head against her brother’s chest once more.

Armor wrapped his arms around his sister; he began to cry too. “I’m sorry, sis,” he sobbed, “There’s nothing else we can do.”

Trixie looked at the paragraph discussing her inheritance in the will. “I didn’t want this, Iron,” she said to herself, “Not if it meant you taking your own life away.”

Roadkill hung his head. “He was in such a good mood just a while ago…what the hell happened?!”

“I know,” replied Trixie, “He fooled the both of us. He put a façade on to make us think everything was okay.”

“He should’ve told us!” exclaimed Roadkill, “It would’ve saved us all a lot of heartbreak!”

1015 sat in misery, wondering what was going to happen now. He couldn’t bear to think of the reactions the ponies and Spike would give upon hearing the news, not to mention how broken Celestia and especially Luna would be. And Gallow? Well, if there was anything good to be gleamed from this it would be that all her hard work hadn’t gone to waste. But the fact that her worst fears were confirmed would do nothing if not cancel out any positive outcomes. He could almost envision the ponies weeping over their dearly departed engineer’s grave.

It was then that he realized that a grave would be pointless if the ponies didn’t have Ironside’s body to put in it. Then he remembered Luna’s special ability to visit ponies in their sub-conscience. He tried to put the thought out of his head, knowing it wouldn’t work if the pony was dead. But what if, he thought, what if Iron wasn’t quite dead? What if his second suicide attempt had failed too? Then…

“Twilight,” he said suddenly. Twilight lifted her head off Armor’s chest again.

“Hmm?” she asked sniffing. “Remember Luna’s ability to visit ponies in their dreams?”

“Yeah,” replied Twilight, “What does that have to do with anything right now?”

“Try copying that same technique and locate Ironside,” answered the engine. Twilight shook her head in disbelief.

“You’re losing it, 1015,” she said plainly.

“No, I’m serious,” retorted 1015, “We need to find him.”

“I know we do,” said Twilight, “We have to try and recover his body so we can give him a proper burial. But using Luna’s dream magic won’t help us locate him. He’s dead.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” replied 1015, “It might’ve been another botched attempt. Remember that he botched the first one.” But Twilight shook her head again.

“Please, no wishful thinking, 1015,” she whispered.

1015 couldn’t contain it any longer. “Damn it all, Twilight Sparkle, use the fucking dream magic and find Ironside before I burst my fucking safety valve!” he shouted, his whistle screaming. Everyone in the sheds jumped.

“B-but, how do I find Ironside?” asked Twilight.

1015 took a few deep breaths before answering. “Just try and locate his sub-conscience. Luna has to do that before she can visit you in your sleep.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” said Twilight sadly.

“Just try to connect with him mentally,” replied 1015.

“How do you even know about sort of stuff?” asked Roadkill.

“You tend to eavesdrop on the Princesses a lot when your shed is right next to one of the castle windows,” answered the engine. Twilight took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes, trying to locate the sub-conscience of the engineer. Inside her mind, various blue plasma images of ponies began to appear. Their faces were initially difficult to discern, but as she concentrated, they became more recognizable. She focused her magic on the Huckleberry area, searching the town for any sign of Ironside. She came up empty-hoofed.

It was when she swept her mental scan over an open area just outside the town near a river that she caught sight of a blue plasma signature. She automatically knew what (and whom) she was looking at. “He’s in the river!” she exclaimed, “He tried to drown himself in the river!”

“Let’s go get him!” shouted Armor, galloping out of the shed.

“Where is he now?” asked Trixie.

“Is there a railroad bridge on this line?” asked Twilight.

“Yeah, it’s about three miles down the line from Huckleberry,” answered Roadkill. Twilight finally opened her eyes.

“He just passed it,” she said, “The river doesn’t flow very fast. We should be able to catch him if we move now.”

“Armor, ride with me in M,” called Trixie to the unicorn. Armor turned around and galloped back to the shed and hopped into the fireman’s side of M’s cab. Trixie hopped into the driver’s seat and pulled the K-27 out onto the mainline, opening the throttle wide. Roadkill followed suit with Huck, while Twilight took off in flight.

Meanwhile, in the river, Iron floated along, upset that once again he had failed to bring his misery to an end. “Where did I go wrong this time?” he thought to himself. Why could he never successfully complete a suicide? Was he simply meant to live a life full of disappointment, sadness, and shame? Wasn’t there something out there that could end it all for him without his own input? Was there something he did in his life that cursed him to never find solace from his woes? Before any of those questions were answered, however, everything suddenly went black.

Recovery

Once more the darkness cleared, and Ironside found himself lying on the bank of the river, soaked from mane to hooves. He struggled to open his eyes, feeling water from the river flow into them whenever he lifted his eyelids. He slowly brought one hoof to his face and wiped his eyes, lifting himself up into a seated position as he did. He heard the grass rustle as somepony trotted up beside him. That somepony happened to be Twilight, who sat herself down next to Ironside. Iron shifted his eyes to the right but refused to turn his head in the same direction to look at her.

The events that had transpired inside his mind impacted him profoundly. The weeps of those close to him still rang clear as a bell in his ears. Despite being brought back to consciousness, he seemed to still be stuck within the confines of the nightmare. Trixie, Roadkill, and Shining Armor stood behind him, waiting to see if he would even react to Twilight’s presence beside him. “Ironside,” said Twilight softly. The engineer lowered his head in response. “Ironside, do you understand why I did that to you?” asked Twilight. Ironside nodded in reply, but he still did not say anything. The three ponies standing behind them switched their gazes between Ironside and Twilight, expecting the engineer to verbally respond to the princess, but he still would not.

“Why?” The question was so short, yet so strong.

It took Ironside some time to figure out a suitable answer, but in the end the engineer answered with, “Why what?”

“Why do you think those things?” asked Twilight, “Why are you always contemplating suicide? Why are you so preoccupied with death? Why do you think so poorly of yourself?” Ironside turned his eyes to her, then back down to the grass. Never before had anypony actually asked him any of these questions. He always assumed that, like him, they had accepted his morbid mind as simply part of his personality. He honestly did not know what to say.

“I don’t know,” he said shaking his head.

“Don’t give me that, Alex,” said Twilight in reply, “You do know why.”

“You can’t read my mind, Twilight,” he retorted, “Don’t assume that you know what I know.”

“Actually, I can read your mind, and I know that there’s an answer to my question in there,” she countered. Ironside took a deep breath and tried to conjure up the answer Twilight claimed she sensed in his mind. He let his memories play through his brain, good and bad, before finding the answer to her question.

“Do you ever feel worthless, Twilight? Do you ever think that your existence has no special purpose?” he asked.

“There are times when I’ve felt like a failure,” she answered, “But no, I’ve never felt worthless.”

“Well, I do,” said the engineer.

“But there’s no reason to,” retorted Twilight, “You’ve got a great job, you’re very well-paid…” She looked back at the three ponies sitting behind them. “…and you’ve got friends. Isn’t that enough to make you feel like you’re worth something?” To her surprise, he shook his head. “Wait, what?” she asked. Ironside sighed.

“Honestly, Twi, there are times when I consider myself more of an acquaintance than a friend to you.” He finally lifted up his head and turned it toward her. His eyes beheld a shocked expression on the princess’s face.

“Why wouldn’t you think of yourself as my friend?” she asked incredulously, “It’s not like I’ve only known you for a week or two.”

“When was the last time we talked; like, we sat down and had a meaningful conversation with each other?” asked Ironside. Twilight lowered her chin onto her hoof as she tried to remember. It was indeed a long time since the two of them spent actual quality time together.

“Maybe a few days before you left,” she answered, “But I don’t exactly remember.”

“My point exactly,” said Ironside, “You spend time with the girls almost every day, and Spike lives with you. No one can ever deny that the seven of you are very close. The same can’t be said for me. You girls will probably only see me once a couple of weeks or something.”

“That’s only because you’re so busy, Ironside,” replied Twilight, “I know you spend a lot of time on the rails, but that’s your job. And besides, you’ve got 2398, Hildegard, and Mike. Don’t you ever talk to them about your feelings?”

“I try not to,” said the engineer, “I have to keep my mind focused on what I’m doing in the cab. If I get distracted, I might slip up and cause an accident.”

“Well, I still think you should talk to somepony about how you feel,” said Twilight, “If you keep your feelings all pent up inside you, then yeah, you’re going to start feeling suicidal or like you’re a burden to others.”

“I don’t think you quite got what I said, Twi,” replied Ironside, “I don’t have somepony to talk to. I just spent a whole year on my own without even hearing a word about you girls aside from you becoming a princess and spending some time in the human world, or whatever that was about.”

“What about M?” asked Twilight, “Didn’t you ever talk to her about your feelings when you had some free time?”

“Once or twice,” answered Iron, “But then I felt like she didn’t want to hear anymore from me. And I think that goes for everyone else.”

“What do you mean?” asked Twilight.

“After a while, all I’m going to sound like is an attention whore. I honestly think that once you tell someone about how you feel, then you shouldn’t tell them anymore, because then it gets repetitive and folks stop caring,” said Iron.

“And then things like what I just showed you happen,” countered Twilight. She turned her head to look at the three ponies standing behind her and then returned her gaze to Ironside. “That’s how we would all have reacted if you had actually taken your life,” she said.

“Even Tenuta?” asked Ironside.

“Yes, especially her,” replied the princess.

“How would you know that? She hasn’t seen me in years. She still thinks I’m dead.”

“Princess Luna helped me with that one.”

"I see..."

“And Iron, what about Luna?” Twilight then asked, “I know Tenuta is your closest friend, but Luna’s a very close second.”

Ironside sighed. “I know, but she has a whole country to rule alongside Celestia. We don’t speak to each other that much.”

“But you know she’d be shattered if you killed yourself, and Celestia too,” said Twilight, “It doesn’t matter that you barely talk to either one that much. It doesn’t matter that they’re immortal and have had to watch so many ponies before them pass away, they would feel just as hurt as we would.”

Ironside let the events in his dream play through his mind once more. He remembered how sorry he felt when he saw the reactions of his friends to his death. The reactions of Luna and Celestia stuck out in particular. “The princesses…were their reactions genuine too?”

“I put them into a deep sleep to experience your death in a dream. I can assure you those tears would’ve been real.”

“You used Sombra’s magic, huh?”

“Yeah…”

There followed a long silence. Trixie, Roadkill, and Shining Armor looked at each other with uncertainty.

“I’m sorry, Twilight,” said Ironside. Twilight turned her head toward him. “I’m really sorry. I’m such a train wreck. I hope you understand why I hate myself and I want to die. I don’t want to put you through what I just saw, but at the same time, I feel like I’m nothing but a bother to you all. I mean, what kind of a friend puts his friends through so much trouble? Why do you even try to deal with me and all my problems? Why bother caring for a pony like me? What good am I to you?”

Twilight grabbed him by the shoulders and held him right in front of her. “You’re not a bother Ironside; you’re a truly wonderful pony. You have issues, I know. Who doesn’t? You have a big heart, and it doesn’t deserve to have a knife shoved through it. There’s a lot of love inside you, and I consider myself very lucky to have felt that love.” Here she embraced him tighter than she ever had. Ironside felt the words on his tongue, and he didn’t hesitate to let them out.

“I love you, Twilight,” he said as he hugged her in return.

“I love you too, Ironside,” she replied.

“No matter what happens?”

“No matter what happens.”

Trixie looked over at Roadkill. “Are you crying?” she asked softly upon seeing him wipe his eyes.

“Maybe,” he said with a sniff. Trixie smiled and pat him on the shoulder.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she assured him.

Twilight slackened her arms a bit so she could look Ironside in the eye, but kept them wrapped around her friend. “Everypony wants you back, Iron. The girls miss you, Spike misses you, the Princesses miss you, and your engines miss you. And Gallow…” Ironside’s ears perked up when he heard the little filly’s name.

“What is it? Is she alright?” he asked in a concerned voice.

“I can’t believe I forgot to mention her…” said Twilight.

“What happened?” asked the engineer.

“She’s been building a special coffin for you,” answered the princess, “It’s the same one you saw in your dream.”

“Holy shit…”

“She’s been spending so much time working on that thing. I mean, it’s very ornate, and she did a great job…” Twilight realized that she was getting off topic. “She had a bad nightmare in which you jumped in front of a train in front of all of us,” she explained, “And she was so strongly affected by it that that coffin became her obsession.”

“I don’t get it,” said Ironside, “Why would she put so much time and effort into something like that? I didn’t exactly give her a heartfelt parting gift.”

“Remember what Gallow said at your funeral?” asked Twilight, “‘Friends forgive each other’? She meant that. She means that still. What she’s spent all that time doing is a sign that she still cares about you. She hasn’t given up on the friendship that ties you two together. You have to come back with us.” Iron looked up at M and Huck sitting on the bridge behind them.

“But…I can’t just leave M behind,” he said softly, “I promised I’d stay with her.”

“It’s okay, Iron, you don’t have to stay here with me. I don’t want to hold you back from returning to Ponyville,” M replied, “Besides, I’m not alone anymore. I’ve got my brother with me now.” Iron smiled a bit. He was glad that she had Huck back with her, but he felt pained that they might not see each other anymore. M read his thoughts. “I’d like you to visit sometimes, you know,” she said, “I’m not asking you to leave for good.”

“Well, as long as I don’t get killed on the job, we’ll see what transpires,” he said.

“So you’ll come back with us?” asked Twilight.

Iron turned and smiled at her. “Yes.”

Ironside slowly backed M into her stall. He stepped down and trotted over to her front. “Well, I guess this is goodbye,” he said with a sigh.

“Goodbye, but not farewell,” the Mudhen replied.

“We’ll see,” the engineer said a bit darkly, “There’s always a chance my job will kill me.”

“This had better not be farewell,” M answered in a serious tone, “Don’t you die on me.”

Iron smiled. “I’ll try not to.” He climbed onto her pilot and brushed himself against her smokebox. She puffed a warm cloud of steam around him.

“Take care of yourself, Alex,” she said softly.

“You too, kiddo,” he whispered.

“I’m 90 years older than you,” said M with a bit of annoyance.

Iron chuckled. “Oh, you know what I mean.”

Twilight, Shining Armor, Ironside, and Trixie stepped inside 1015’s spacious cab. Iron stuck his head out the window. “Take care of those two, RK,” he said to Roadkill, referring to M and Huck.

“That’s the railroad’s job, not mine,” said Roadkill with a chuckle.

“Well, will they?” asked Iron.

“They took good care of Huck,” said the alicorn, “M is in good hooves.”

“Ok, good to know,” replied Iron.

“If they don’t, I’ll make them,” said Huck.

“Just don’t kill anypony,” said Trixie, “Or they’ll scrap you for sure.”

“Will I ever see you again?” asked Roadkill.

“I promised M she’d see me again someday,” replied Ironside, “The same goes for you.” Roadkill smiled.

“Take of yourself, you train nut,” he said.

“You too, you psychopath,” said Iron. Twilight blew 1015’s whistle three times, pulled the Johnson bar back to full reverse, released the brakes, and cracked the throttle. 1015 slowly backed out of the yard and onto the abandoned line. Trixie and Ironside waved goodbye to Roadkill, M, and Huck as 1015 accelerated backwards towards Silverton and home.

Reunion, Part 2

All the ponies aside from Ironside were sound asleep in 1015’s cab. Morning dawned as the Prairie-type chugged into Silverton. The townsfolk were just starting to awaken, so nopony was around when the engine pulled in. It gave Ironside some time to sit back and contemplate what had happened to him over the past year. He had been banished under the assumption that he had committed an unforgivable crime; he had befriended a once lonely engine whom he had now reunited with her long-lost brother; he had traveled across tracks that had tested his engineering skills like never before; he learned that the friends he thought he’d left behind still cared for him; and in a rather dark and depressing way, he learned just how much he was worth to them. All he could do now was smile, chuckle softly to himself, and lean back in his chair.

Theofillya was awoken by the sound of a locomotive chugging into the station. Throwing on her nightgown and donning her familiar hat, she stepped out onto her front porch to find 1015 idling next to the depot. She realized upon closer inspection that Ironside was at the throttle. Figuring that Twilight and Shining Armor had accomplished their mission of finding him, they would soon be taking him back to Canterlot. If she wanted to say goodbye to him, now was the time.

Iron’s train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a familiar mare calling his name. He turned his head and stuck it out the window. He saw the mayor waving at him from across the street. He smiled and waved back, then stepped down from the cab and trotted over to her. “It’s good to see you’ve made it back safe and sound,” said Theofillya.

“Yeah…” said Iron, trailing off. He didn’t know how to put it to her that he wasn’t going to be returning to work on the Silverton Line anymore.

“Where’s M, by the way?” asked the mayor. Iron almost forgot that she wasn’t with him anymore either.

“She…decided to stay in Huckleberry with her brother,” he answered hesitantly. He looked down at his hooves. “I’m sorry, Theofillya,” he sighed, “I didn’t want to keep her away from the only family she has left. But I completely forgot that she’s the main engine here and I…”

Theofillya held up her hoof to hush him. “It’s okay, Iron,” she said calmly.

“It…it is?” asked the incredulous engineer. The mayor nodded.

“You remember the twins?” she asked. Iron nodded in response. “Well, they’re living the dream now,” she said, “They’re taking care of the ore trains now.”

“Won’t you miss M though?” asked Iron.

“Yes, I will,” answered the mayor, “She’s quite a spirited little engine…always knew how to make me smile. But is she happy where she is now?”

“Very much so,” replied Iron with a smile.

“Then why should I take that happiness away from her?” asked Theofillya rhetorically.

Iron then realized that this was going to be the last time he saw Theofillya as well. “Theofillya, I don’t know if you know this, but Twilight and Armor…”

“…are taking you back to Canterlot,” finished the mayor.

“Yeah…” said Iron as his voice trailed off again. He felt bad for leaving Theofillya minus one engine and one engineer. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, “I shouldn’t abandon my duty to the railroad.”

“You have a duty to the Royal Railways, if I recall,” said Theofillya.

“But technically, I was fired,” the engineer pointed out.

“Well, it would seem as though your employer wants you back,” the mayor countered.

“I still feel like I’m taking something important away from you,” lamented Ironside.

“I know, and I can safely say that I’ll miss working with you, Iron,” replied Theofillya in a consoling voice.

“I’m just going to plain miss you,” said Iron, “You’ve been a real swell friend and a fine boss.”

“I appreciate that, darlin’,” Theofillya replied beaming, “Promise me you’ll come back sometime.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the engineer answered as he hugged the mayor. She chuckled as she wrapped her arms around him in return.

“You be careful out there, dear,” she said, “Not everypony out there is as nice as we are here.”

“I’ll remember that,” replied Ironside. He slowly trotted back to his engine, his mind filling with memories of the times he spent in Silverton. He smiled as he stepped back into the cab, even though his head hung a bit low. He gave three blasts of the whistle, and then 1015 slowly accelerated backwards towards the Crystal Empire. He waved goodbye to Theofillya, who waved back until the engineer was out of sight.

“So long, partner,” she whispered.

Ironside sat reversed in his chair as 1015 raced backwards toward the Crystal Empire. Twilight and Armor had awoken by now, but Trixie was still asleep. Twilight rubbed her eyes. “Are we at Silverton yet?” she asked yawning.

“We left it about a half-hour ago,” replied Iron, his gaze focused on the track ahead (or behind, I guess).

“Oh, did you get to say goodbye to Theofillya?” asked Twilight.

“Yeah,” said Iron curtly. He lowered his eyes before speaking again. “That’s the third friend I had to say goodbye to,” he said in a low voice. Twilight placed a hoof on his shoulder.

“Saying goodbye to somepony you care about is always hard,” she said, “Trust me on that.” There was another pause in the conversation.

“I just remembered that I never said goodbye to any of you,” the engineer noted.

“Maybe it’s because you didn’t need to,” the princess replied smiling. Iron looked at her and smiled back. A year ago the only thing he saw in her eyes was unequivocal rage. Now her eyes were once again filled with the love and compassion he remembered seeing in her. “I don’t think I’ve seen you smile like that in a long time,” said Twilight.

“It’s because I learned that something very dear to me that I thought was lost long ago…wasn’t lost after all,” replied Ironside.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” said Twilight beaming.

The Crystal Empire’s station soon came into view, prompting Ironside to shut off the throttle and apply the brakes. 1015 gingerly slowed down as he approached the depot, coming to a stop beside the platform. The signal nearby changed to indicate that the track was now occupied by a locomotive, warning incoming trains to slow down early. Ironside, Twilight, Armor, and Trixie (who was now awake too) hopped off the footplate and landed on the platform. Iron was rather confused by the lack of activity at the station. “Where are Spike and the girls?” he asked.

“They’re waiting for us in the castle,” answered Armor, “I called Cadence on the way back to let the girls and her know that we got you.” Ironside looked up at the castle towering over the skyline of the Empire. His friends were all up there waiting for him.

Cadence was sitting in the royal living room with the rest of the Mane Seven, Blitz, and Sunny. There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” called Cadence. The door opened slowly and just enough for Armor to peek his head in.

“Are you all ready?” he asked with glee.

“Ready for what?” asked Rarity. Armor was confused.

“You didn’t tell them?” he asked Cadence incredulously.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” said Cadence shrugging. Armor stepped inside, followed closely behind by Twilight. The rest of the ponies crowded around her, exchanging hugs and kisses with her, as did Spike.

“Everypony, I have two announcements to make,” she suddenly declared. The displays of affection halted as everyone chimed in to hear her. “Firstly, I am now officially a teacher of magic.” The assembly applauded and cheered. “And now, I introduce to you my student,” Twilight announced, directing their attention to the door. Trixie nervously poked her head in.

“Uh…hi,” she said awkwardly. The ponies and dragon went bug-eyed and slack-jawed.

“Trixie?!” exclaimed Pinkie.

“She has officially renounced her extravagant and false ways in lieu of becoming my student,” explained Twilight.

“But why would you take her in as your student?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“Because I want to become the greatest magician of all time,” said Trixie plainly as she stepped inside the living room, “I admit to you all, my magical abilities are far too lacking for me to be even a half-decent magician. I thought that an illusion created by special effects would suffice, and my arrogant personality would prevent those who listened from examining my case too much, but I know now that it was futile. If illusions and lies can’t get me the fame I desire, then I’m willing to put forth the effort to learn honest magic.”

The Mane Seven (minus Twilight) didn’t really know what to say. Trixie had tricked them before, but her humble attitude (she wasn’t referring to herself in the third person anymore) and the fact that Twilight was stating that Trixie was now her student seemed to convince them that Trixie was really being honest this time. Spike decided to clap for her, and the rest of the ponies followed suit soon after. Trixie smiled as she realized that the ponies really were accepting her now. She trotted up to the group and breathed a sigh of relief. Then she said, “I’ve only ever told my story to one other pony.”

Twilight’s friends looked at her, but she held up her hoof saying, “Oh no, it wasn’t me.”

“It was him,” said Trixie, directing their attention back to the door.

Ironside didn’t know what to say as he slowly made his way through the doorway and into the living room. Once again shocked expressions crossed his friends’ faces, all except for the royal couple, Trixie, and Twilight, who simply smiled. Iron felt his eyes begin to water, and his throat became dry as paper. He scanned the room, looking into each of the eyes of his friends. Gathering up his courage, he swallowed to clear the dryness the throat, took a deep breath, and said simply, “Hey.”

Pinkie Pie slowly muscled her way past her friends and approached him. Ironside stood nervously in place, not sure what Pinkie was going to do to him. Silently, she raised her hoof up to his face. Iron’s eyes widened as he felt certain that he was going to be slapped. But before he could shut his eyes, Pinkie placed her hoof upon his cheek and rubbed it. Her look of disbelief instantly became one of pure joy, and she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He instantly did the same to her. “You’re back, Iron! You’re back!” she exclaimed happily, almost on the verge of crying. Iron laughed and wiped the tears from his eyes before hugging Pinkie again.

“Yes, Pinkie, I’m back,” he said with a soft laugh. Pinkie suddenly broke the hug and grabbed both sides of Iron’s head. Her smile was still there when she locked eyes with him, and before he knew what was happening she had kissed him full on the mouth and hugged him once more. Iron couldn’t hold it in any longer and began to cry. But this was a cry of happiness, not sadness. Pinkie broke the hug once again, this time stepping back to let the rest of her friends reunite with their long-lost engineer.

Rarity stepped up next, immediately kissing Ironside on the cheek and hugging him tightly. “Welcome back, darling,” she said, “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Rarity,” replied Ironside warmly. Rarity then stepped back next to Pinkie and let Applejack embrace the engineer. AJ gently rocked Iron back and forth as she hugged him.

“It’s good to have you back, sugarcube,” she whispered sweetly.

“Thanks, AJ,” he whispered back. Rainbow Dash, Blitz, and Sunshine all stepped up together to reunite with him in one big group hug. They didn’t say anything to him; they simply relished the moment of all four of them being together again. Ironside noticed once the group hug was finished that Sunny was still clinging onto him. He smiled and embraced the little filly again, knowing it meant the world to her that he was back.

“Come on now, sweetie,” said Blitz, “Uncle Alex still has another friend to reconnect with.” Sunny groaned when he pulled her away from Ironside.

“You can hug him again in a bit,” consoled Dash.

“Yay!” replied Sunny. But before Fluttershy could approach him, Ironside was instantly knocked down by the Cutie Mark Crusaders, who had just noticed that he was back.

“Come on, Spike, join us!” called Scootaloo.

“Aw, what the heck?” said Spike with a shrug as he joined their group hug. Iron couldn’t help but cackle as the fillies and dragon crawled over him, searching for a spot to grab onto.

“Alright now, give the guy some air,” said Twilight as she nudged the little ones off Ironside, “There are still two ponies waiting to reunite with him.” She remembered that Cadence hadn’t given him some love yet.

The ecstasy that filled Ironside suddenly seemed to disappear when he came face-to-face with Fluttershy. Now, standing in front of him, was the one pony he loved that he never seemed brave enough to face. All the memories of the poor woodland creatures who had stepped in front of his trains at the wrong time came rushing into his mind. Looking around, he noticed all his friends staring expectantly at him, waiting for him to reconnect with the yellow Pegasus. Turning his attention to Fluttershy, he saw her gazing back at him. For some reason, he couldn’t tell if her expression was one of longing or impatience, but he took a couple of deep breaths before slowly trotting forward.

“Fluttershy?” he asked softly.

“Yes?” she replied in her usual soft voice. With a pained look on his face, Ironside sighed, closed his eyes, and hung his head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He didn’t look up at her. He didn’t hear her say anything. He decided to continue. “I’m sorry for all the woodland creatures, all your friends that I killed. I tried. I honestly tried to save them. Every time I saw one jump onto the tracks I hit the brakes. But…” He couldn’t bring himself to speak the fact that it was impossible to stop his trains in time. Instead he broke down and wept bitterly. The rest of the ponies exchanged worried looks, unsure of what to do.

Iron went from weeping to sobbing, but as he did, he felt a hoof place itself upon his chin. The hoof then pushed upward, and Ironside looked into the compassionate and loving eyes of Fluttershy, who gently spoke those fateful words, “It’s not your fault.” Without another word, Ironside hugged her as tightly as he possibly could. She did the same, and for five whole minutes, neither one of them released their hold on the other. And there they were. Two close companions reigniting the long-dormant bonds of friendship that held them together in the best way they knew. And when the five minutes were up and the embrace ceased, Fluttershy beckoned Cadence and Armor over to embrace Ironside in her place. There was something about being hugged by the royal couple that warmed Iron to the core. It was as if he was feeling the love his parents never ceased to show him.

Finally, the royal couple beckoned everyone in the room to gather around Ironside. Some hugged him once again; others simply brushed up against him to let him know that they were there. But whatever the gesture, Ironside knew that he was surrounded by loved ones. And as Twilight and Ironside looked at each other once more, Twilight was delighted to see that her dear friend was truly happy.

Reunion, Part 3

Gallow wiped the sweat off her brow. The coffin was finally complete. The lid bearing Ironside’s cutie mark was now accompanied by carved panels depicting historic railway scenes as well as the Mane 6 and the Elements of Harmony. It took Gallow forever to complete every panel that she thought would go into making the box, and the panels left over could easily make another complete coffin and most of yet another. A knock on the door to her room interrupted her admiration. She turned her head to see Princess Celestia standing in the doorway. “Oh, I was just, uh…” started the little unicorn.

“It’s beautiful,” said Celestia smiling.

“You really think so?” asked Gallow. The princess nodded. Gallow sighed. “It’s too bad Iron won’t be here to see it.”

Gallow no longer was under the impression that Iron was dead and gone; “Don’t rush it, kid. There’s still time,” she remembered Thanatos saying. She knew full well that Ironside was banished, however, and she did not believe that he would ever return.

“What was I thinking?” asked Gallow, “I spent all this time working on something he’ll never even use.” Celestia trotted over to her.

“It’s a very beautiful waste of time, dear,” she said softly, “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Gallow was confused. “Wait, what do you mean ‘he’ll love it’? I thought he was banished for good.” Celestia shook her head, still smiling. “You mean…?” asked Gallow. The princess nodded. Gallow had no idea what to say.

“Twilight had a change of heart,” said Celestia, “She wanted to give him a second chance. He’s heading home as we speak.” The little unicorn sat down beside her work and smiled; it was unlike any smile that ever spread across her face before.

1015 and Hildegard cruised the high iron on the return to Canterlot at a steady 55. The ponies were divided evenly between the two engines: Ironside, Twilight, Spike, and Rarity rode in the lead engine (1015) while Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie rode in Hildegard. Blitz, Sunny, Trixie, and the CMC remained behind in the Crystal Empire with Cadence and Armor. Excitement ran rampant through their veins as the towering spires of the castle rose prominently over the treetops. Ironside was so eager to return to Canterlot, he had to prevent himself from pulling the throttle open all the way and highballing all the way to the city. The train had yet to pass through Ponyville, where there was a speed limit of 45 for through trains. The two engines roared out of the forest and into the open fields surrounding Ponyville, passing the mortuary where Gallow now worked at the edge of town. From their vantage point in the orchard, Big Mac and Granny Smith could make out the two speeding locos in the distance. Applejack, able to see them from Hildegard’s cab, blew Hildegard’s single-chime whistle and waved to them. They waved back happily.

Racing by the roundhouse, Iron noticed that both 2398 and Big Mike were both steamed up and sitting patiently in their stalls. 2398 whistled out of sheer surprise and joy at seeing his engineer. Mike joined in, followed by 1015 and Hildegard. Ponies working in the shops recognized the style of whistling from 1015 and happily waved to the engine as it raced by. Ponies at the station gathered round to witness the triumphant return of the local legend as the train raced past, the lead engine whistling as if to alert the entire town that Ironside was back. They barely had time to wave before the train vanished from view on its way to Canterlot.

Ironside opened the throttle wide as the train began its climb to the capital. He pushed the Johnson bar as far forward as it would go, signaling to Hildegard to give 1015 some backup power, which was quickly provided. The columns of smoke issuing from the engines’ smokestacks reached far above the treetops, so high they had to have been seen by the Princesses from their vantage point in the castle. The sharp barks from their stacks echoed across the landscape. Never before had two engines worked so hard up the steep grades to Canterlot. It wasn’t that they were having trouble getting up the grade; it was that they were in such a race to get to the castle that they weren’t letting the grade slow them down in the least.

The Canterlot station finally appeared in the distance, signaling the conclusion of the journey. Many of the well-to-do ponies came to see the spectacle of the two engines arriving in the city, as they had heard that Ironside had finally come home, and that the Elements of Harmony had returned as well. In fact, the ponies were inundated with warm welcomes as soon as they disembarked from the engines. Ironside began to see just how much he was missed when he realized that everypony that came to see him knew him by name and was giving him more than just a friendly hoof-shake when they came to see him. It took a bit of coaxing on the part of the royal guards to get the crowd to disperse and allow the ponies to enter the castle.

Celestia and Luna sat in their respective thrones in the main hall, awaiting the news of the train’s arrival. A guard then came galloping toward them, coming to a stop just a few feet in front of the steps. “Your Highnesses,” he said, gasping for air, “They’re here.” Luna looked excitedly at her sister, who for some reason wore a more serious look on her face. Without changing her expression at all, she looked back at Luna and winked. Luna knew what was up; she quickly hid her excitement under the same serious look that her sister wore. “Bring the engineer inside,” stated Celestia, “Keep Twilight Sparkle and her friends outside the doors. They will know when they can step in.” The guard bowed and quickly galloped to the doors.

“The Princesses wish to see only Ironside for now,” the guard stated. Twilight looked worriedly at Iron, who turned his gaze to the floor upon hearing the news.

“I probably do have to serve some kind of sentence for what I did,” he said gloomily. A second guard peering into the main hall through the doors saw Celestia give a signal to admit Ironside into the room.

“The princess will see you now,” he said.

“We’ve got your back, Iron,” whispered Rainbow Dash. Iron turned to her and nodded before pushing the door open and stepping into the main hall.

The main hall was only about 700 feet in length, but it might as well have been 700 miles for Iron. He could see the Princesses staring back at him in the distance, and as soon as he caught their gazes he turned his head instantly downwards. He began to walk slowly towards the thrones on the far side. As he did, he began to ponder what would happen to him. Would he have to serve time in the dungeon for his transgressions? Was he still barred from returning to his post as top driver? He was so caught up in these worries that he was at the steps to the thrones before he realized that he was at the other side of the hall.

Ironside looked up at the Princesses. The expressions they wore did not appear necessarily angry, but they were indeed serious. Ironside sighed and hung his head. For the first time since he had first met them, he spoke to them formally. “Your Highnesses,” he said, “I come before you to ask for forgiveness for my transgression of the previous year. Indeed, I take full responsibility for the assault committed against Gallow Drop. Believe me when I say that I am truly sorry for what happened that night, and I pray that no such incident shall ever occur again. If I was brought here to be reprimanded, then I accept the punishments allotted. I shall make no case in my defense, for only I am guilty of the crime.”

He looked up at the Princesses. Celestia turned her gaze to Luna and nodded. Luna nodded in response, then stepped down from her throne and approached Ironside. “Dost thou swear that what thou speakest be the truth, the entire truth, and naught excepting the truth?” she asked.

“I swear upon my life that I speak only the truth,” Ironside replied, “Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.” Behind the (mostly) closed doors on the other end, Pinkie gagged when she heard that version of her promise. Luna, who had kept her head high, now lowered it to Ironside’s level, her eyes lining up with his. “I believe it goes, ‘cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.’” At this, she finally smiled. Ironside knew right away that he wasn’t here to be punished, but to be welcomed back with open arms. Luna provided those open arms, embracing her friend more tightly than Ironside thought was possible. He felt no pain, however, only love.

The Mane Seven came rushing in as soon as Luna hugged Ironside, giggles resounding throughout the hall. Luna released Ironside as soon as the rest of the ponies came galloping up to the thrones, at which point Celestia stepped down to greet them with warm hugs. She was able to find a break in the happy reunion to embrace Ironside tightly and (to his honest surprise) plant a few kisses on him as well. As the rest of the group reunited with Luna, Celestia whispered to Ironside where Gallow was staying and told him to go to her. He went with great haste.

The room that Ironside ran into was deserted, excepting the mahogany coffin lying in the center. He could tell by the panels and the giant cutie mark on the lid that this was his own. He gingerly lifted the lid up to inspect the interior. Impressed, he ran his hoof along the soft silk cushions that lined the inside. “It’s beautiful,” he said softly.

“Do you really think so?” asked a small voice behind him. He turned around to see the little unicorn filly standing behind him. Ironside slowly lowered the lid back down, and then gingerly stepped over to Gallow.

“I know so,” he said, running his hoof through her mane.

“Do you know why I did this?” asked Gallow. Ironside nodded.

“It’s because I have a friend who is far more than what I deserve,” he answered, “But I don’t get why you built me a coffin. Is it because I deserve to die, or…?” Gallow shook her head.

“It’s my true talent,” she said, “Funerary practices are my true talent, and I thought that you deserved something special from me because you are my friend. Even though you got drunk and beat me up, the bond between us could never be severed. I made the coffin for you as a reminder that friends will go through many high and low points, but the bonds they forged between them will always endure.”

Ironside hugged Gallow. “I can never apologize enough for what I did to you,” he said, “I really should be rotting in a dungeon cell for my crime.” Gallow pushed him back a bit so she could look into his eyes.

“But you’re not rotting in prison, are you? You’re together with loved ones. You’ve been given a second chance to make things right.”

Ironside nodded. “I want things to be right again, Gallow.”

“Then promise me that you’ll stay with us and be the best friend you can be.”

“As long as there is life left in me, I promise.”

At that moment, Gallow felt a strange tingling sensation on her flank. Simultaneously, her cutie mark began to glow. "Wha-what's happening?" she asked in shock. Ironside could tell that it was something magnificent and simply smiled. The glowing continued for about 30 seconds, then quickly dissipated. When it did, the two ponies beheld its results. Gone was the gruesome hangman image, replaced now with a black coffin, its lid opened to reveal the velvet lining inside.

Gallow gasped in joy. "It's...it's..." she stuttered.

"It's your true cutie mark," finished Ironside.

Epilogue

“He doesn’t survive,” I said to Gallow as I removed my hands from the keyboard and leaned back in my chair. The little filly stared at me in confusion.

“What do you mean, ‘he doesn’t survive’?” she asked.

“Ironside dies in the end,” I replied. It was something I had planned to do from the get-go. I didn’t want my pony alter ego to come out unscathed. It’s a long and touchy story, to be frank, not something I really think people would care to listen to. Let’s just say that I’ve considered self-destruction to be the only future I could seriously wrap my head around. But given the stigmas surrounding actual self-destruction, I felt it better to kill myself (or at least my pony self) off in the story instead of real life.

“But why?” asked Gallow, “Why kill him off? Don’t you want the story to have a happy ending?”

“It does have a happy ending,” I answered, “Notice that I haven’t written his death down yet.” Gallow hopped onto my lap and scanned through the last complete chapter. Sure enough, all she read was the happy reunion of Ironside with his friends. There was no mention of his demise anywhere in the story.

“Still, I know you’re going to kill him off,” she complained, “Why do have to end your story on such a sad note? Don’t you think there’s enough pain in the story already?”

“Life is pain,” I said, quoting Wesley from The Princess Bride, “Anyone who says otherwise is selling something.” Gallow stared at me with a tinge of disgust. I wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a joke or not, so I turned my head back to the computer screen, now seriously considering whether I should include Iron’s death in my story or not. On the one hand, it would give me some closure in that my story would be officially complete. On the other hand, it might upset those who read the story that I brought it to such a dismal conclusion.

“I don’t want Ironside to die,” said Gallow, hanging her head, “You just got us back together, and now you’re going to tear us apart forever?”

“I could make a time gap,” I replied, “Like, he doesn’t die until several years later.” That seemed to make Gallow a bit less upset.

“How will he die?” she asked.

“The way any good engineer dies,” I answered, “Behind the throttle.” Gallow smiled a bit, but her head still hung.

“Will he die a hero?” I didn’t know how to answer that question. I didn’t want Ironside to die by his own hoof as I originally planned: too depressing an ending. But I didn’t want him to die Casey Jones-style either: I’m no hero, why should Iron be? I looked back at Gallow. Her head still hung low; she still was very upset that Iron was going to die. I thought for a long time about how I could bring about Iron’s demise without making the ending über-depressing. I even considered having him die of old age in his bed surrounded by his friends. Nah, I thought, I want the both of us to die before we get old. I hummed “My Generation” by The Who when I said those words in my head. Gallow and I both sat at the computer in silence. I only moved to jiggle the mouse when the screen went dark and I knew the computer was about to go to sleep.

I began to stroke Gallow’s mane, letting my fingers run through her silky hair like a comb. She turned her head and looked at me with those puppy eyes that could tug even the hardest heart’s heartstrings. I smiled and pulled her close, squeezing her gently.

“Look, I have one alternative ending,” I said, “It’s weird, and they might not follow it too well, but it’ll keep Ironside alive…to an extent.”

“It’s your story,” said Gallow, “You don’t have to keep Iron alive just because I don’t want him gone. I of all ponies should know that we all must meet our maker eventually.”

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, “I just want to feel like I can bring his story to an end. I mean, I want to write other stories, but I feel like we need to know how he’ll go. His life will be complete, you know?”

“Write what you feel like writing,” Gallow replied, “It’s your story.”

I looked at my watch. It was almost midnight. “You should get some sleep, kiddo. It’s late.” Gallow looked at my watch and nodded. She hugged me good night and hopped off my lap. I watched her trot up the stairs to her room before getting to work on finishing up my story.

The castle was eerily dark and quiet that evening. The streets of Canterlot were void of all activity. The houses lining the streets were all lined with black crepe. The setting reflected the mood of those inside the castle.

In a small, candle-lit room, two princesses stood alone with the body of the deceased. Luna and Celestia gazed upon the mahogany coffin in which lay their dear friend and engineer. Neither spoke a word, but the occasional sob clearly indicated the mood in the room. There was a knock on the door. Celestia cleared her throat. “Come in,” she said in a semi-whisper. Daring Do entered the room and removed her hat.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Your Highnesses,” she said softly, “I just wanted to see him one more time.”

“You’re not disturbing anypony,” said Luna, “Please, come and pay your respects.”

Daring approached the coffin and looked at Ironside. “Hey, buddy,” she whispered, “It’s me. I just…wanted to see you one more time. Wanted to say goodbye…” Daring suddenly lost track of what she wanted to say. She realized that there was nothing to say. She simply stood there beside the coffin, the memories of Iron’s final moments flashing through her mind. She could still see him, lying on the floor of the cab, bleeding profusely and soon to be dead. “Stay with me, Iron,” she remembered saying, picking him up into her arms, “Don’t you die on me.”

She could see Iron looking up weakly into her eyes, smiling and saying, “I’m sorry, Daring, I don’t have a choice,” before closing his eyes and breathing his last. It was the only time any of her expeditions had cost a pony’s life. Even her most dangerous adventures before this had always come out with everyone more or less unharmed. But now, after this, she felt it more imperative than ever that she work alone. Here, lying before her, was proof that her line of work was just too dangerous for anypony else to get involved.

Daring turned back to the princesses. “Your Highnesses, I can’t apologize enough for what happened to Ironside. I wanted to go alone as I’ve always done in the past, but…” She trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

“He just wanted to help you,” said Celestia, “He’s always been one for helping others; it was his nature.”

Daring looked at the coffin then back at the princesses. “Did his friends get to see him too?”

“Yes,” said Luna, choking back a sob, “They all said their goodbyes. We’ll be taking him to the royal cemetery in a little while. You’re welcome to join us.”

Daring said nothing. Instead, she turned her attention to a small book sitting on the table next to the window. She read the entry to which it was opened. “Rest in peace, dear friend. You were taken away from us too soon. We are glad that the rifts that formed between us and you were mended before too long. Many glad memories were had with you, and we will forever miss you and all the love you gave us. You will always be remembered for your talent as an engineer and as a pony who knew how to make us all smile, even when we thought we couldn’t.

Loving you always,

Princess Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Spike, Blitz, Sunshine, Princesses Celestia and Luna, Princess Cadence and Prince Shining Armor, Sweetie Belle, Applebloom, Scootaloo, Trixie, Roadkill, and Gallow Drop”

Daring took the quill pen from its ink bottle and signed her name next to Gallow’s. Celestia closed the book once Daring had entered her name. “Let’s take him to his grave,” she said softly. Luna wiped the tears from her eyes, stepped up to Ironside and gave him a final kiss goodbye. Celestia followed suit.

“Okay, let’s go,” Luna said in a strained voice.

“I think you’re forgetting that there’s one more pony who wants to see him,” said an eerily familiar voice. The three ponies looked at the window, where they saw Thanatos sitting. Celestia went from quietly mourning to indignant and angry.

“What do you want?” she asked in an irritated voice. Luna mirrored her sister’s expression and lit her horn up.

Thanatos held up his hooves. “Peace, sisters,” he said calmly, “I come only to help you deal with this horrible loss.” He produced his pocket watch from underneath his cloak. “Luna, I have something, or rather, someone for you.” The angered expressions disappeared from the princesses’ faces, replaced now by confusion.

“What are you trying to do, Thanatos?” Luna asked.

“Something that I’ve never done for any other pony,” he answered, “But I need your neckband.” Luna did not remove her neckband; instead, she simply stepped toward Thanatos, who held his watch up to her and then pressed it against the moon jewel in the center of the band. Luna watched as what seemed to be silver plasma flowed from the watch to the moon.

“Did you just do what I think you did?” asked Celestia in shock. Thanatos smiled; his smile was the one a friend makes when he gives you something he knows you’ll hold onto forever.

“Now you’ll always be together,” he said. Luna wasn’t sad, far from it in fact, but the tears ran so much that it was nigh impossible to tell.

“This will probably be the only time I’ll ever keep a soul here on Earth instead of taking it to the afterlife,” said Thanatos, “But I know how much he meant to you, Luna. And considering that the four of us [here he was including Discord] are the only ones who’ll live forever, I wanted you to have at least one mortal friend to keep with you.” Celestia looked depressed when he said this, and Thanatos was quick to notice. “Okay,” he admitted with a sigh, “I might do Twilight and her friends too, but I can’t do this for every soul. I’ve got a job to do, you know.” He didn’t expect Luna to then pull him into a bear hug. It was the first time anyone had given him any affection ever. He didn’t know what to do or say. But he suddenly felt very good inside; he felt warmth in his chest.

Luna released him from her hug, but she held onto him and looked him in the eye. She smiled. “What is it?” asked Thanatos.

“You look just like him,” answered Luna. Thanatos turned to look at his doppelganger lying in the coffin. He smiled.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, remembering that Gallow had once told him the same thing.

“We will never forget what you did for us tonight,” said Celestia, “You have our eternal gratitude.”

“You’re very welcome, the both of you,” answered Thanatos in the softest voice he had ever spoken. Then he said, “I’ve never said this before, but you two do mean something to me…actually, you mean a lot. I don’t think anyone could ever imagine that Death had friends, but I don’t want to be alone any more than you. If I do indeed have friends, then I’m talking to two of them right now.” He felt that strange warmth in his chest again when he saw the princesses smile.

The party finally decided it was time to take Ironside to his final resting place. The coffin was closed for the last time, and carried by the magic of the princesses it was flown to the royal cemetery adjacent to the castle. The graves were filled mostly by guards or royal servants who had long since or recently passed away. The princesses were in for a surprise when they spotted the new grave that had been dug for the engineer. Surrounding it was everypony who had come to say farewell to Ironside. Celestia and Luna couldn’t believe their eyes.

As soon as the princesses landed, the mourners huddled around them, some greeting them with hugs and kisses while others simply bowed in respect. Thanatos, not wanting to scare them, had donned his invisibility cloak and vanished from view. He took off into the night, knowing that his time here was done. The princesses and Daring noticed that he was gone, but they easily figured out why.

The service was rather quick. Those gathered had already said their goodbyes, so the only thing left to do was to lay Ironside’s body to rest. Celestia and Luna did not tell the others of the gift Thanatos had given them; they felt it best to keep the solemnity of the occasion and then reveal the truth at a later time. The coffin was silently lowered into the vault, which was then covered with its stone top: an effigy of 2398. Some of the group had brought flowers with them. These were planted around the grave in order to ensure that the flowers would last. They were only buds at this point.

With the interment finished, the ponies said their goodbyes to one another and dispersed. The cemetery was now once more silent, populated only by those whose time had come and were now at rest. But there was still one more sign of life amongst the dead. Unseen by anyone, a certain purple unicorn entered the cemetery and made her way to the stone locomotive. She brought with her a pot of forget-me-nots that she planned on planting near the grave as well. Using her magic, she lifted the plant from its pot and placed it in a hole she simultaneously formed in front of the stone engine. From beneath the cloak she was wearing she produced a shining silver flute. She began to play. The melody was soft, sweet, and yet so sad. Tears flowed from the unicorn’s eyes as she sang through her instrument.

As the music bloomed from the flute, so too did the flowers around the grave bloom. There seemed to be a reemergence of life around the grave as the flowers opened. The melody soon came to a close, at which point Tenuta tucked her instrument back into her cloak and began to leave the cemetery. “That was lovely, Tenuta,” said a voice beside her.

Tenuta closed her eyes and smiled, instantly recognizing the voice that spoke it. “Thank you, Ironside,” she whispered. She turned her head to the side, beholding the ghostly spirit of the engineer.

He sighed. “I’m sorry I never told you, kiddo. I’m sorry I never told anyone. I just…”

“I understand,” Tenuta said, “I can’t say for certain I’d forgive you either.”

Ironside and Tenuta sat down in front of the grave. “I ruined everything,” the engineer whispered.

Tenuta shook her head. “I wouldn’t say that. You did manage to find your dream job, right?” Iron nodded. “And you made some great friends, right?” asked Tenuta. Again Iron nodded.

“But I left all of you behind,” he said with a sigh.

“I know, but I’m glad that I got to see you one more time,” said Tenuta smiling, “You made a great name for yourself, and I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” said Iron, “I can see you’re still making a great name for yourself. I knew that flute would get you far.”

The two friends stood there for a moment, thinking about what had transpired. “So, will I still see you?” asked Tenuta.

“Maybe,” said Iron, “Princess Luna is now the sole custodian of my spirit. But she knows you, so I’m sure she’ll let you see me again.” Tenuta smiled.

“We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” she said chuckling. Iron smiled and embraced her.

“I really missed you, kiddo,” he said softly.

“I missed you too, bro,” she replied.

“And hey, I’m always right here,” said the engineer, tapping her heart.

“Come on, man, you’re getting all sappy with me now,” said Tenuta in a faux complaint, “Besides, you’re actually in her heart.” She looked up at the castle, seeing Luna gazing down back at them.

Iron looked up as well and laughed. “I guess you’re right.”

“Well, I should be getting home now,” said Tenuta, “I don’t want everyone to worry about me.”

“You can tell them I said hi,” said Ironside, “Actually, they should probably learn what really happened to me.”

Tenuta nodded. “They need to know, bro,” she replied, “And I’ll tell them where they can find you.”

“Take care of yourself,” said Ironside as Luna lifted him back up into the castle.

“You too,” said Tenuta watching him go.

Luna waved to her and called down, “He’s in safe hooves.” Tenuta smiled, waved goodbye and left the cemetery. In the end, for those two friends of friends, it was goodbye, but not farewell.

Das Ende

"And Now For Something Completely Different..."

Now I know what you’re thinking: what were Twilight, Ironside, and Spike doing all that time? Well…

As you should remember, Ironside wanted Spike to use his flame to heat up the rod that would be forged as a replacement rivet for Big Mike’s grate. Unfortunately, in his excitement, Spike accidentally used his messenger flame and sent the rod straight to Princess Celestia, who was as of now recovering from being knocked unconscious when it materialized over her and fell on her head. All three of the poor animals huddled around the anvil had mental breakdowns, and Gallow at one point mistook them for Pinkie Pie causing trouble in the shops.

So, while Gallow and Pinkie spent the day assembling and testing the rail-kiosk, this is what was happening in the shops.

"Oh. Shit."

"…S-S-Spike? Did you just…?"

"Mm-hmm…"

"Do you think that it…?"

"Uh-huh…"

"OK… Let’s just take a moment. I’m sure the princess will be fine. We just need to relax."

"Right."

[All sit down calmly]

Of course, this little moment of serenity didn’t last for long, because twenty seconds later…

[All scream and start running around the anvil]

"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! We’ve just knocked out the princess!"

[Spike curls into the fetal position and sucks his thumb]

"Luna’s gonna kill me…"

"You think Luna’s your biggest problem?! Celestia’s gonna whip my flank with a wooden board when she wakes up!"

"Which gives me exactly three hours to fire up one of my engines and get us out of here."

"I’m still waiting on my new bolt!"

"Screw that!"

[Spike belches up a letter]

"It’s for you, Iron."

" 'I’ll be at the shops in a couple of minutes. We need to talk.'
-Luna. And now if you’ll all join me in rolling around on the floor and crying…"

[All start rolling on the floor and crying their eyes out]

"We’re dead! We’re dead!"

[Ironside takes out his schnapps flask and starts chugging]

All this nonsense went on for about two to three minutes before Luna finally arrived at the shops.

"W-what is going on here?"

[Spike hugs Luna’s leg]

"Please, Princess Luna, have mercy! We’re sorry!"

"Don’t let Princess Celestia whip us with a wooden board!"

"Twilight, Spike, please relax! I’m not here to punish you."

[sniff] "Y-you’re not?"

"Of course not! I just wanted to know what happened."

"Well, we knocked out your sister."

"Obviously. I’m asking how a steel rod appeared over her head and knocked her out."

"Oh… That was my fault…"

"How so?"

"I, um, tried to heat up the rod with my flame."

"What for?"

"I needed a new bolt for one of my engines’ fire grates."

"That’s all?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Oh. [chuckles] Don’t worry, then. Celestia will understand."

"Really?"

"Accidents happen, Twilight. You three will be fine."

With that, Luna took off to tend to her sister. The two ponies and dragon stood dumbfounded around the anvil. Ironside was the first to break the silence. “That went a million times better than I thought it would.”

“Yeah,” Twilight responded, “But it was so anticlimactic.”

“I seriously doubt the readers will enjoy this chapter very much,” Spike mused.

“Spike, what did I say about breaking the fourth wall?” Twilight asked.

“Sorry,” the dragon replied. Ironside looked over to where Pinkie was and smirked.

With the dilemma settled, the three animals went back to forging the new rivet for Big Mike. Spike made sure this time to not use his messenger breath on the new rod. Once the rod was red-hot, Twilight used a custom hammer to form the first head of the rivet. She then carried the rivet over to the sheds while Spike kept a continuous flame on it to keep it red-hot and malleable.

Once she was underneath Mike’s grates, Twilight carefully slid the rivet through the holes in the grate plates. Then, using his trusty rivet gun, Ironside forged the second head of the rivet, reconnecting the two plates to their lever. Big Mike was once again ready for work.

The ponies and dragon reconvened around the anvil. Ironside seemed to have something on his mind. “You look troubled, Iron. Is everything alright?” asked Twilight.

“Well, it’s about the test run of the new sleeper car I took part in with Rarity and Fluttershy,” he replied.

“Why? Did they not enjoy the ride?” asked Spike.

“Oh no, they loved it,” Ironside replied, “But the railway officials didn’t seem that hopeful.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” asked Twilight, “Fluttershy told me it was a very smooth rider and the interior was plush and very comfortable.”

“That’s not the problem,” Iron responded, “It’s that the coach is far too large for Equestria’s railway network.”

“I don’t understand,” Twilight replied, “It seemed perfectly proportioned to me.”

“That coach is a replica of a sleeper car from the human world,” Ironside stated, “And the original had the same problems this one’s having right now.”

“Wait, that coach is from the human world?!” exclaimed Spike.

“Well, the original was,” said Iron, “It was the funeral coach used for President Abraham Lincoln after his assassination.” Thanks to Princess Celestia and Canterlot’s extensive library, Twilight was quite familiar with the history of the United States.

“So you replicated the United States Pullman sleeper?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Ironside affirmed, “It’s a very historically important piece of railway history.”

“But why didn’t you just ask the Americans if we could have the coach?” asked Spike.

“They wouldn’t have wanted to give up a piece of their history,” replied Ironside.

“Besides,” put in Twilight, “the original was destroyed in a fire in 1911.”

“So what exactly makes the coach so problematic?” asked Spike. Ironside looked over to the car, which was sitting peacefully next to the edge of the roundhouse.

“Notice how it runs on four two-axle bogies?” The other two looked and nodded. “Well, that’s to distribute the weight of the coach along the rails. Most coaches never use more than two bogies,” Ironside explained.

“So does that mean it’s a really heavy coach?” asked Spike.

“Oh, absolutely,” replied the pegasus pony, “In fact, this one might warp the rails just like the original did because it’s so heavy.”

“Well, the rolling stock here in Equestria is a bit smaller than those used by the humans,” said Twilight.

“I’m certain that’s part of why the railway officials aren’t that hopeful,” replied Ironside. He treaded his hoof back and forth along the ground. “It was nothing but a complete waste of time and money…”

“Don’t give up so soon, Iron,” Twilight responded, “I’m sure somepony will be interested in using the car.”

“I don’t know, Twi,” said Ironside, “The princesses are normally utilitarian when it comes to modes of transport. They aren’t ones to use a private sleeper car just for the sake of using it.”

“Maybe Rarity would like it,” said Spike. Twilight nodded in agreement; Rarity was extravagant to an extreme. If anypony was willing to buy the replica just for the sake of having it, it would be her.

“You really think she’d purchase a coach that’s best known for being a hearse?” asked Ironside, “I mean I know there are ponies and people out there who like collecting hearses…”

“You being one of them,” put in Spike.

“…but I don’t think she’s one of them,” Ironside finished.

“Well, maybe if we stay hush-hush on the history of the coach, she won’t think any less of it,” said Twilight.

Ironside nodded and spent the rest of the day chatting with Twilight and Spike about the Pullman coaches and their impact on passenger comfort. He even let them have a tour of the United States. Both were very impressed by the level of comfort the coach afforded to its passengers. Ironside was enjoying himself so much that he forgot that he had given the blueprints and photographs of the original coach to Rarity. But as we already know, she was willing to buy it anyway.

Meanwhile, in the castle at Canterlot, Princess Luna sifted through some papers at her desk. She had just finished finalizing the order for Equestria’s newest engine. It was an American Prairie-type that had spent many years rusting away on display. Hopefully, however, this would be a chance for him to glide across the high iron once more.

Author's Note

Luna: Blue
Spike: Green
Twilight: Purple
Ironside: Brown
Big Mike: Black

Das Begräbnis des Lokführers (The Engineer’s Funeral)

When the darkness cleared his mind, Ironside found that he was no longer floating in the river. Instead, he was laying face-up on cobblestones. He sat up and looked around. It was nighttime, and he was sitting on one of the streets of Canterlot. None of the shops or kiosks was open, not surprising considering the time of night, but there was something in the air that told him that there was a very serious reason for the lack of activity. Looking at some of the houses in the distance, he noticed that black bunting was draped across their fronts. He knew well that that was a sign that somepony had passed away.

Looking behind him, he saw dim lights approaching in the distance. He knew that was the cortège approaching, so he moved over to one side of the street to see if he could get a better glimpse of the members. As the procession came into view, he saw that the lights came from torchbearers at the head. The two ponies were wearing cloaks, so he didn’t know who they were. But then he noticed a much brighter beam of light behind the torchbearers, and there followed the chugging of a steam engine.

A group of about fifteen mourners followed the torchbearers, their silhouettes illuminated by the headlight of the steam machine behind them. Iron listened to the chugging; it was relatively fast-paced for such a slow progression, so he deduced that it was a steam tractor. But then he realized that there was only one steam tractor in the city, and it was stationed in Ponyville. Now Iron began to worry; he hoped the pony who died wasn’t anyone he knew.

Next in line were Celestia and Luna, who lacked the cloaks worn by the torchbearers and mourners. Luna was wearing her traditional black jewelry, but what stuck out at Iron was that, first off, Celestia was wearing black too. But second and more important was their expressions. He expected the Princesses to at least look professional about this; seeing as how they were the only immortal equines they had presided over many funerals before this, but the brokenhearted looks that they instead exhibited put Iron on edge. Whoever had died must have been good friends with them, and this made the engineer even more nervous. To make matters worse, Celestia seemed to have lost some of the color in her hair. And Luna’s hair was more black than blue now.

Ironside began to panic. If Celestia and Luna were both on the verge of tears then the deceased definitely was someone Iron knew. As the steam tractor came into view behind the Princesses, Ironside instantly recognized it as the one that he had lent to the Apple family. It towed a gun carriage carrying the coffin, flanked on either side by six ponies and a dragon that Ironside also instantly recognized. He jumped off the ground and hovered over the coffin to get a better look at it. He first eyed the Mane 7, all of whom wore the same pitiful expressions of the Princesses. Turning his attention to the traction engine, he saw Granny Smith at the wheel with Big Mac operating the engine’s controls and stoking the fire. Then, when his eyes moved from his dear friends to the coffin, his heart sank. Painted clearly upon the mahogany lid was his cutie mark. He was but a ghost witnessing his own funeral.

Trailing behind the gun carriage were Blitz, Sunny, the Cutie Mark Crusaders, Shining Armor, Princess Cadence, and last but not least, Gallow Drop. And their expressions were just as tearful as those of the Mane 7 and the Princesses. Ironside couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and as soon as he landed, he immediately dashed his hoof against the cobblestones. It hurt, but the pain did nothing to convince him that he was dreaming. As soon as the last of his friends had cleared the street, he followed the procession at the same slow pace. He could see the castle looming in the distance, and he knew right away that it was the destination of the procession.

The giant gates creaked open to admit the party and the drawbridge across the moat lowered. The mourners and the Princesses filed across the drawbridge first, followed by the traction engine and the coffin. The Mane 7 and company were the last to cross, followed closely by Iron himself. Iron expected the procession to stop inside the Grand Hall, but he quickly discarded the idea when he remembered that there was steam tractor in this. Sure enough, the procession eventually came to a halt within the main courtyard. The mourners split into two parties and seated themselves before a grand platform with a pulpit from which the Princesses would give the eulogy. Using their combined magic, Celestia and Luna lifted Iron’s coffin off the gun carriage and placed it upon a bier located in the center of the platform. Unseen by the party, Iron flew alongside his body and landed next to Luna, who was positioned by the bier.

With the utmost reverence and care, Luna lifted the lid off the coffin so that all present could see the pony they had come to mourn. Iron smiled at the exceptional work Gallow had done to prepare him for his final rest, but his smile disappeared the moment he heard Luna begin to weep. He instinctively turned around and hugged her, but to his disappointment, she didn’t respond. Oh yeah, I’m a ghost, he thought. Looking up at her, he saw that her eyes were shut tight, but tears flowed freely from them, and she grit her teeth as she tried hard not to break down in front of all the ponies. Iron released her from his hug as soon as he felt her turn away from his body and back toward her sister. After giving her sister a comforting embrace, Celestia approached the coffin. She did a bit better at not crying in front of everyone, but her constant sniffs and tears told Iron that she was shattered by this too. He immediately embraced her as well, even though he knew she couldn’t feel him or see him there. She lowered her head and gingerly kissed his body on the forehead. Iron didn’t watch, but he felt her head lower and heard her kiss. Now he was in tears as well.

He turned around and watched as his friends filed past the traction engine and seated themselves in their designated chairs. Once he knew where they were seated, he scanned the audience to see if he recognized any of the other mourners. As the congregation lowered their hoods, he realized that everyone here was familiar to him. He saw Trixie and Roadkill sitting next to Twilight and Spike. Octavia and Vinyl sat on the opposite end of the group, nearest the bier. Lyra, Bon-Bon, Cheerilee, Spitfire, Soarin’, Photo Finish, Yarrow, Silver, Roseluck, and Time Turner were all there. The final face to be revealed, however, tore his heart in two. A purple unicorn with long, wavy, light-brown hair lowered her hood, wearing the same broken expression shared by the Mane 7 and company. It was Tenuta: one of the most gifted flautists in all of Equestria, and Iron’s closest friend. “It…it can’t be…” Iron whispered. She was one of the friends he left behind when he “died” the first time. There was no reason she should be sitting here when she believed him dead long beforehand. Yet here she was.

Celestia cleared her throat and addressed the ponies. “Thank you all for coming here tonight,” she declared, her voice shaking slightly, “We are gathered this evening to bid a fond farewell to our dear engine driver and friend, Ironside.” She took a few deep breaths before continuing. “This is a tragic day for all of us given the circumstances of his death. It must have come as a shock to all of you that his life should end this way…it certainly caught me off guard.” A moment of silence followed as the ponies recalled how their friend had come to where he was now. “I met Ironside not long after being reunited with my dear sister,” continued Celestia, now officially starting her eulogy, “He wasn’t a very sociable pony at first. He only spoke when I asked him something. He seemed lost, like he was alone in this world. I assured him he wasn’t; that’s why I brought him to Luna, because she felt the same way, and I wanted her to have a friend now that she had returned but didn’t know anypony alive at that time.”

“You two got along very quickly, I remember,” said Celestia, addressing Luna this time. Luna nodded in response. Tenuta smiled a bit; she was glad to know that Iron had found a good friend after he left her and his past life behind. Luna noticed Tenuta looking at her and fixed her gaze on the purple unicorn. Tenuta immediately stopped smiling and turned her attention to Iron’s body. Iron was standing right in her line of sight, and the melancholy look on his dear friend’s face made his heart sink again. Celestia continued. “Iron tended to tag along with me wherever I went. Apparently he needed a motherly figure to have nearby.” She stopped again, scanning the mourners for a sign of Iron’s mother. Iron also scanned the assembly, but as he expected she wasn’t there, and neither were his father nor his brother.

Celestia felt awkward stopping on her remark, but as she looked at the ponies assembled, she suddenly felt that she had nothing to say. Luna stepped in. “Sister, he was not the only pony to see you as a motherly figure.” Celestia smiled at her sister. She half-laughed half-sobbed as she tried to continue her eulogy. “I’m sorry, everypony,” she said with much distress, “I don’t want you to see me like this.” Luna tried to step in again, but Celestia held her hoof in front of her. “I just can’t believe I’d…be saying goodbye to him…so soon.” The ponies looked at one another, wondering if they should do something. “He had such a long life…ahead of him…” Iron lowered his head as he listened to Celestia.

“This is what you’ve done now,” he said to himself, “You’ve broken the hearts of everyone who cared about you.” Celestia finally broke down and wept before the assembled ponies, despite trying to continue her speech.

“He was…truly…one of the finest engineers we’ve ever had…” she sobbed, “He was…a wonderful friend…and I loved him…like I’ve loved you all… And I hope that…he finds peace…wherever he is now…and knows…that he…will never…be forgotten.”

Everyone began to cry in sympathy for their leader. Ironside slowly trotted, head hung, towards Celestia. She had now retired to her seat behind the pulpit and let the tears flow freely from her eyes. Iron gently rested his head against her chest and looked up at her tearful face. “Tia…” he said softly. Luna looked with pity on her sister, then at the mourners, and decided that she should try to complete the eulogy. She wiped her eyes as she approached the pulpit.

“My dearest friends,” she began, her voice breaking, “I wish I could recite to you all the times that Iron and I spent together. But I can’t. It just hurts too much right now. I don’t want it to hurt. We had many wonderful moments together. But every time I remind myself of what we did…” here she turned to look at Iron’s body, “I am reminded that never again can we share such moments.”

Tenuta wiped her eyes and whispered, “I know how you feel, Your Highness.”

Twilight stepped off her cushion and trotted up to the pulpit to comfort Luna. “Would you like us to try and continue the eulogy?” she asked. Luna smiled and nodded in response.

“Thank you, Twilight,” she said softly. Twilight signaled to her friends to join her on the platform. One by one they left their seats and trotted up the steps. Initially the rest of the Mane 7 lined up behind Twilight, but instead she had them surround the microphone, free to speak whenever they felt that they had something to say. Luna sat back down next to her sister.

Twilight took a few deep breaths and cleared her throat before speaking. “It’s hard to say goodbye sometimes,” she said plainly, “This is one of those times.” She looked over at Iron’s body (and Iron himself) and spoke while keeping her gaze fixed on the coffin. “Ironside,” she stated, “Gathered around you today are all the ponies who saw you and still see you as their friend. They’re here to bid you farewell. But they don’t want to bid you farewell. They’d rather pass by you on the street and wish you a good day. They’d rather invite you into their homes to spend some quality time with them. They’d rather give you a shoulder to cry on when you’re feeling down. They’d rather take a bit of time out of their day to remind you that you mean a lot to them. We all would rather be here doing that for you and assuring you that life isn’t so bad, but instead we’re here saying a final goodbye. Instead we’re here with tears in our eyes and pain in our hearts. Instead we’re here to see you to your final resting place, knowing that a very special part of our lives is now gone forever.”

“Life ain’t always easy, Ironside,” said Applejack, “It’s full o’ twists ‘n’ turns that throw y’all over the place. It’ll knock you down aplenty. It’ll kick dirt in your face. To be brutally honest, life’s a bitch. But death is much worse. Death takes away everything and gives you nothing in return. Life does take some things away, but it doesn’t take everything away, and it will give you things in return.”

Pinkie stepped up and brushed some of her hair out of her face. “There’s no happiness in death, Iron. There’re no jokes, no parties, no celebrations, nothing. It’s all darkness and silence. Who could possibly be happy with that?”

Rarity spoke up next. “What is to be cherished in death, darling? Like Applejack said, everything is taken away by death. Everything you held dear to you is gone. And once you’re gone, you’re gone forever. There’s nothing you can give back to those whom you love.”

Fluttershy kept the tears at bay as she spoke. “How can you experience the care and love you get from friends and family when you’re dead? All they can do is mourn you.”

Rainbow Dash and Spike stepped up together. “And think of how your friends and family feel when you’re dead, bro,” said Dash, “They gave you so much, but in the end it all meant nothing.”

“Iron, what we all mean to say is…” began Spike. He looked at the girls surrounding him, then at the Princesses, then at the mourners, and finally at Iron. “…you had no legitimate reason to kill yourself.”

Tenuta had by this point joined the Mane 7 at the pulpit, and when they saw her standing nearby they stepped aside and let her approach the microphone. “Do you understand now, Alex?” she asked, “Do you know why our hearts are broken? Do you know why we feel so robbed? It’s because you didn’t have to end your life, and it certainly didn’t have to end so early! Tonight you’re surrounded by friends who would be more than willing to listen to something you had to say. If you had something to complain about, we’d listen. If you felt like things weren’t going your way, we’d listen. If you felt like your life was pointless and there was no reason to keep on living, we’d definitely listen. And we’d do our best to remind you that there are plenty of reasons for you to keep living. All you had to do was say something. Why didn’t you say something? I know times have been hard. I know you’ve made horrible mistakes. But that doesn’t make you worth any less to us. Sure, we’d be pissed, but we wouldn’t want you to go die in a hole or jump in front of a moving train. You mean too much to us.” Here Tenuta lowered her head and sobbed. “Why couldn’t you see that, Alex?” she whispered, “Why couldn’t you see that?”

“Friends forgive each other, Alex,” said a voice from beneath the pulpit. Gallow clambered up from below and held her head near the microphone. “Do you know why I wanted to forgive you? It’s because our friendship meant more to me than anything else. I’m not going to pass off what happened between us as something trivial, but I’m not going to hold it against you for all time. I didn’t want you to go away and never come back. Why’d you leave me with just that option?”

Sadly, the questions that were asked that night would never be answered. The ponies quietly stepped down from the platform and rejoined their friends. Celestia and Luna stepped back up to the pulpit. “We shall now take Ironside to his final resting place. If anypony wishes to say a final goodbye to Ironside, please do so now,” said Celestia. One by one, each of the ponies filed past the coffin, each one saying “goodbye,” “farewell,” “rest in peace,” or something similar. Cadence and Armor stood beside the coffin for about two minutes before walking past. Blitz gave Iron’s shoulder a gentle shake. “So long, Al,” he said quietly. He lifted Sunny up to let her kiss Iron one more time.

“Goodbye, Uncle Alex,” she said in her tender voice. Tenuta was the last to come up to the coffin. Without a word, she rested her head on the pillow beside Iron’s head and cried. Ironside (his spirit, anyway) hugged her as tightly as he could and wept too.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Iron,” said Twilight. Ironside lifted up his head and looked at her. He was met with a compassionate look. “I said it doesn’t have to be this way.” As white light emanated from her horn Twilight gingerly stepped forward and touched Iron’s forehead with hers. There was a brilliant flash, and then everything went black once more.