Chapters One might think it was a fairly typical Tuesday morning. He’d gone to work, and gotten on the rails.
The difference being, he normally drove dinky little trains with only single locomotives and so little mass they could accelerate almost as fast as a passenger train; such is the nature of empties.
Today, though, he’ll be in command of a truly enormous train. This monster boasts a whopping six locomotives, a caboose, a couple trainmen, and over three miles of tank cars topped off with diesel fuel. Nevermind the dozens of gasoline tankers, the six standard box cars filled with plumbing supplies, the eight tri-level autoracks loaded with dozens of brand-new cars of various makes and models, the dozens of flatcars loaded with tanks- military tanks- and the crane.
They’ll be taking this load all the way across the country, to a yard someplace in California. Once there, their locomotives will be switched to another train of similar size for the return journey, right back here to New York. They’ll have to make several service stops along the way; there is no way these locomotives have the endurance for that kind of distance on a single tank. Not with this much mass, at any rate.
Good thing he doesn’t have to pay that gas bill.
He waits patiently as his engineer stretches out the slack, crawling the bulk of the locomotives forwards, before giving them any significant throttle. This might also be because the air brakes haven’t yet finished pumping up- even with six locomotives working on it, it is taking absolutely forever .
Even so, his train is beginning to move. They haven’t yet begun accelerating- and the lead locomotive has already moved at least half its own length.
His engineer had not been impressed when she learned that they simply could not allow the trailing cars to roll downhill- backwards- really any at all. The shunters had assembled the train far too close to the back of their siding for either of their liking- but even three of those old shunters would be out-pulled by a single one of his road locomotives. He’s not quite sure how long they’d spent preparing this ginormous train.
This brings a smile to his face. While it would have taken fifteen shunters to even crawl this massive load up the hill, they’ve just received report that most of the train is moving forwards- and his engineer hasn’t even touched the majority of his locomotives’ power. Take that!
He glances up once again, out the windshield of his lead locomotive, at the green signal giving them the go-ahead. Finally, the locomotive begins to accelerate, without any adjustment to the throttle.
He shares a look with his engineer. That means the whole train is moving- though she won’t be increasing the power until the air brakes finish pumping up. This they eventually do- and the near-instant response is an increase in engine noise.
He smiles at his engineer, who flashes her beautiful smile back at him, turning quickly back to her controls to adjust the throttle again. He almost can’t wait to be on the mainline again- especially for so long. Perhaps the NX- oh, what was it again? He glances back down at his notes. Perhaps the NX-7327 could battle its way past Kronos and negotiate a treaty with Romulus before they reach their destination, the… Oh, he doesn’t know. It’ll be fun devising their course- and corresponding story- with his engineer over the coming week or two.
Naturally, pretending their lead locomotive is the starship Enterprise with a new hull number only goes so far. This ranges from matters as simple as the locomotive’s lack of a warp drive to matters as complex as its possession of air horns. The latter of the two is the bother right now; they’re approaching a grade crossing at full speed ahead. The crossing itself is still little more than a speck in the distance, but his engineer is already pulling the cord for the air horns, sounding the warning signal.
He raises his binoculars, peering forwards at the crossing. There’s no gates on this one, nor even lights, that he can see- only the basic signs. Makes sense, for such a rural road; according to his maps, this road is a dead-end, serving some half-dozen houses to their left, across the three-track mainline from the rest of the town to their right. He lowers the binoculars.
“And so the Enterprise passed the moons of-!”
He blinks. He’d risen his binoculars again- and been greeted with a view of a single-track mainline stretching ahead of them, complete with a sign-free crossing with a dirt road. He lowers them- three-track mainline. Raises. One track. Lowers. Three tracks. “What…?”
His engineer glances up at him. “What is it?”
He puts his binoculars to his eyes another three or four times. “It’s… We’re on a three-track mainline, right? Approaching a crossing with a paved road?” She nods, and he continues. “Whenever I look through my binoculars, it becomes a single track, approaching an unmarked crossing with a dirt road.”
She scans the tracks ahead of them. “I don’t get it,” she mutters, shaking her head.
He offers her the binoculars, and she takes them. She lifts them to her eyes, then lowers them again, shaking her head. “Nope, still three tracks both ways,” she mutters- and hands them back.
He accepts his tool once again, lifting them to his eyes for one last look.
The moment the lenses line up with the distant crossing, however, the floor of the locomotive seems to fall out from under him, sucking him instantly into the darkness.
She hands the binoculars back to her conductor. If it wouldn’t have gotten one- or both- of them fired, they’d be husband and wife right now. Even as he accepts the tool back, she scans the tracks ahead. They’re on a long straightaway, the lead locomotive having just blown past the grade crossing. The tracks ahead are completely clear, as expected.
As he raises the tool back to his eyes, she opens her mouth to ask how clear his single track line is.
She never gets to ask. Instead, her entire world turns upside-down, plunging into darkness.
She might have thought the chair had fallen out from under her. As a matter of fact, she wonders if it has; she doesn’t feel the seat under her. In addition, she’s gone deaf, and her control panel has disappeared; she’d had a hand resting on it. She tries moving her hand downwards, to meet the control panel, but the muscles don’t respond.
So she takes comfort in the pressure against her back: The back of her seat, transmitting the constant rumble of the locomotive to her. Wherever she is, she’s still in the train- and her conductor is probably still standing next to her. So long as she has him, she can handle anything.
Suddenly, she can move again, first indicated by landing back on the seat. Only, she feels… different. She can’t quite put a finger on it- though, as she catches herself in the darkness on the edge of the control panel, her attention is drawn- momentarily- to the distinctive lack of feel in her fingers.
Her attention is next drawn to her hearing; she is no longer deaf, though she feels something shifting on the top of her head, to better hear her conductor’s breathing, presumably lying on the floor next to her.
She then scrambles one hand… Fingerless hand? Whatever it is, she scrambles it across the control panel to find the lights. They should have already been on- and they had been. She hopes she’s not blind.
She finds the switch. Moments later, the lights on the front of the locomotive come back on, fighting against the darkness. The control panel backlight comes on at the same moment, though the interior lighting remains off.
But these lights go largely unnoticed, battling against the sun that also decided to switch on at the same moment.
It seems she must have shrunk slightly- but she can still see out the front windows, to the track in front of her. Her locomotive is barrelling down this single track at full speed ahead, and climbing… Climbing dangerously. It’s a downhill slope. She zeroes the throttle.
Her ears twitch as the massive engines die down to idle. She’s fairly certain human ears don’t do that.
A quick check of her control panel shows her train seems to have stopped accelerating. It’s still moving too fast, and doesn’t seem to be decelerating, so she draws the throttle back slightly, dropping it into regenerative braking territory and compressing the slack throughout the train. She gives this some time to complete before drawing it further back for her reward: Her train is slowing back down to safe velocities.
She’s almost down to her desired speed when it crosses her mind that her conductor hasn’t done anything since the… Event. Her memory immediately replays the hard thump she’d heard as soon as the lights came back on… He must have collapsed onto the ground.
She’s about halfway through turning to look at him when her ears draw her attention with a second inhuman feat. They perk upwards and forwards, catching what sounds like a train whistle from up ahead. Her gaze locks back onto the tracks in front of her, having caught only a momentary glimpse of something brown on the decking next to her.
She focuses on the signal. It sounds unfamiliar, though- and with her conductor probably out cold, she can’t exactly ask him. She scowls, and reaches for her air horns once again. She tries- unsuccessfully- to ignore her ears flattening against her head in an attempt to block out the noise.
“I just knew this was going to happen,” he grumbles, sticking his head out the right side window in an attempt to assess the damage before his train even comes to a stop. His attempt is at least partially successful; it’s not very hard to miss that damage. He draws back in, turning to his firepony. “Cylinder is shot,” he reports.
The firepony scowls. “Is it something we can fix?” He asks.
The engineer shakes his head. “Looks like the whole side blew off- then the piston got involved, and I’m pretty sure the rod is bent. I told them that thing needed reinforcing.”
He cusses. “That ain’t going back together very quickly. We’re gonna have to pull it.”
Nod. “We don’t have enough ponies aboard to pull it, though,” he scowls. “I guess we’ll have to hope we’re close enough to someplace… and that the whistle still works.” He reaches for the cord, blasting out the appropriate signal.
Pause. “Here’s hoping somepony-!”
A response comes thundering in from behind. Even so, it sounds distant- so much so it must be simply deafening at its source, like a hundred foghorns. Both stallions listen to the signal… Four short bursts of noise.
The engineer looks to his companion. “Four short?” he asks.
Frown. “Isn’t that the ‘what was that’ signal?”
Nod. “Yep, I think so. I don’t think it’s ever been used, though.” He reaches for his whistle to repeat their signal.
The firepony waits until the signalling is complete. “I wonder who made a foghorn that loud…?”
The strange signal repeats. She’s certain she caught the entire signal this time- but it’s still unfamiliar.
It sounds closer , though. Like it’s not too far around that corner up ahead.
She leaves the regenerative braking on maximum, resting a hand on the air brakes.
Which reminds her. As much as she can’t feel her fingers, like they don’t exist, she can still grip and manipulate things with them. She raises her other arm- the one not standing ready to apply the brakes- in front of her for a quick visual inspection, without breaking line-of-sight with the tracks in front of her. After all, her locomotive is equipped with an anti-climber… But most steam trains aren’t- and any train pulled by steam is most certainly lighter than hers.
She allows her focus to shift to her arm as her train decelerates towards the curve.
It’s blue. That’s the first thing she notices- her arm is blue . Sky blue, to be exact, not the bright, untanned peach-ish color of her skin. She never did tan very well.
The next thing she observes is the complete lack of any fingers. Her hand seems to have been replaced by something large and very solid. She twists it in midair… Yes, it looks much like a hoof of some sort.
So, how had she grasped things with a hoof ? A momentary glance at her other limb- which she can feel has a firm grip on the brake handle- shows a hoof resting against it, not wrapped around it or anything.
After checking the tracks ahead once more, she turns her attention back to her free arm… hoof.
It’s not just sky blue; it’s covered in sky blue fur. Why she- or anything , for that matter- would have fur of that color, she hasn’t a clue. A quick check downwards shows her legs are similar- with hooves, and blue fur. So, four legs, then?
She also notices she’s now completely naked. For some reason, she’s not all that worried about it- after all, she is completely covered in fur.
She examines the tracks again. Her locomotive is just starting into the corner by now; she keeps her eyes on the tracks. This is made difficult by her discovery of three separate appendages she didn’t know she had- two on her back, below her shoulders, and one all the way down, where a tail would be. She resists the urge to look; someone’s life could be at stake if she makes a mistake. Her ears- most certainly not human ears- stay pointed forwards, hunting for possible signals. They flatten momentarily as she gives the air horns a brief tug.
Author's Note
Aaand, another new story. This one's even got a distinct lack of Bolos!
... Not that that turns anypony away, I hope.
On that topic... I'm writing a railroad fic with little to no railroad knowledge to back it. Anyone with significant railroad knowledge/experience, I would appreciate a little help. I'm pretty set on the consist- as in, what I want in the train; I have chosen not to mention any possible idler cars (Presumably, there's at least one near that crane). However, if something sounds off- like, the number of locomotives or whistle/horn signals (that I describe)- I'd like to know. I'm also curious as to exactly what numbers I might be looking at for overall train length & mass, assuming all cars are of a fairly typical variant... (Save the crane. On it, I'm shooting for a big and heavy-duty but fancy-looking crane. Don't really mind bending the laws of physics to force those characteristics, if I have to.)
As for the locomotives, they're of no particular real kind- and that cab number was indeed random. For locomotive stats (size, mass, strength, etc.), I'm shooting for a "typical" heavy-duty freight locomotive. Appearance-wise, I'm looking at something like the GE Evolution Series - I like how they look.
Also- when multiple diesel-electric locomotives are chained up in a row, I know the leading locomotive faces forwards. Is there any particular direction the others would face, or no?
Someone may have noticed Steve's mention of the two "trainmen". Those are auxiliary OCs, the kind that get referenced every once in a while but don't play any significant part in the story. They're mainly here as flaggers, so I don't have to devote any of my main OCs- or any equestrians- to collision prevention duty.
A single, short note reaches the ears of the two stallions examining the damage to their now stalled locomotive. Both instantly turn to look down the tracks behind the train- nothing.
“That was definitely closer than last time,” the firepony states.
The engineer nods, making the quick jump into the cabin to give a similarly brief pulse to their whistle. It’s a simple enough signal for anypony to remember- as hardly a marker signal. He waits several seconds for any possible response before sounding a longer, single blast, to indicate that they’ve stopped. There is still no response.
At least, from the distant foghorn.
Their passengers, headed by Princess Celestia’s student and her brother, are emerging from the train.
“What’s going on?” Shining Armor, Captain of the Equestrian Royal Guard, asks.
The two earth ponies flinch. “We’ve broken down,” the engineer mutters, hopping back down from the locomotive. He glances back over to his firepony. “We don’t think we’ll be able to make field repairs.”
Twilight Sparkle, the Princess’ student on her unwilling way to Ponyville for her latest assignment, raises an eyebrow. “Is somepony getting help?” She asks.
He gestures back at the locomotive, and the thin trail of smoke still coming from the smokestack. “We called for it, and somepony responded. Not sure what kind of foghorn they’re using- but they’re probably close.”
“So that strange horn is our backup?” Twilight asks.
Shining, one ear pointed back, turns to look, his other ear joining in his search of the tracks behind them. “Hold on…”
Everypony goes silent, ears swivelling. It becomes readily apparent what noise he’s responding to- a distant, deep rumble, like a bonfire in an enormous firebox might produce, coming from down the tracks. Now that everypony is silent, they’re also able to catch the nearly-hidden sound of metal wheels on metal rails.
Twilight speaks up first. “That’s gotta be freight,” she states. “Nothing else needs that much fire… But at least it’s something. Maybe they’ll be able to push…?”
The engineer tilts his head. “It’s possible,” he states. “Some freight locomotives do have couplers on the front- and while passenger cars aren’t designed to be pushed like that, our train is small enough they should be able to take it… Celestia help us.”
Nopony knows exactly what just rounded the corner behind them- but they do know something about it. Firstly, it’s enormous . Secondly, it most certainly isn’t a freight locomotive. Third, it’s moving towards them.
Six stunned ponies watch as the sound of air brakes comes from it- then the deafening foghorn comes on, thundering out from it in a signal nopony bothers to listen to.
“Everypony off the train!” The engineer screams into the two VIP cars attached behind his locomotive, as soon as the foghorn falls silent once again. That thing looks way too heavy to slow down anywhere near as fast as his passenger train could. Ponies respond- and in a matter of seconds, every living soul is removed from the train. He then leads his firepony and all eight unicorns in a short gallop to the side, to what should be a safe distance, before stopping to shed a tear for his train…
Huh. Funny, the giant thing- which he can see from here is the front of a long train- is slowing down far faster than he might have expected… But not fast enough. He says a quick prayer; there was only once in history when a train was involved in a collision, and every pony present died in the clouds of scalding steam. At least our boiler isn’t up to full pressure… Where is that thing’s boiler, anyways? As such, nopony knows what to expect from such a collision, except danger. He figures they’ll find out soon enough- it’s just a couple seconds from impact.
She rests her hoof against the control panel, the other continuing to blast out a warning signal on the air horns. She’d set the computer to give her a specific braking pressure- and her locomotives are just about done equalizing the pressure in the brake lines. Her train is now decelerating at the maximum emergency stopping rate- but she’s not so sure that’ll be enough. Her locomotive is still moving too quickly; she expects she’ll hit that tiny little steam train at, oh, twenty or thirty miles an hour. She rather suspects that her lead locomotive alone outweighs the entire train stalled on the tracks in front of her.
She’s made it down to twenty five miles an hour or so- and just a couple seconds from impact- when she hears a yelp from next to her. A glance shows her conductor- or, she assumes the brown shape on the floor is her conductor- is moving, or at least awake. She yells over the noise of her air horns.
“Brace for impact!”
“What!?” he promptly answers.
She hardly even feels the bump. As a matter of fact, she probably wouldn’t have noticed it, had she not seen the train in front of her very suddenly stop getting closer. Another five or six seconds sees both trains at a standstill- and the flick of a hoof initiates a release of all remaining pressure from her air brakes.
Now, she finally looks back at those strange limbs she’s been ignoring. First, the one at the base of her spine- which, yes, is a tail. A glistening, golden tail, to be specific. Next, the two beneath her shoulders… which turn out to be wings . Sky blue, feathered wings . She stares at them for a couple seconds, before folding them… an action that feels natural, despite the newness of the limbs. Then she checks out the windshield once again; it seems the… creatures that had fled the smaller train are in shock or something. She looks down at the brown creature on the decking next to her. “Steve?” Oh good, her voice hasn’t changed.
The brown creature- four legs, check; black hair and tail, check; swiveling ears, check, wings… Nope. Interesting. It rolls over to this side, looking back up at her with confusion on its face… which has way too big of eyes. It looks somewhat like a child’s depiction of a horse.
“Mary?” it asks, using Steve’s voice.
She raises an eyebrow. She must look similar, with different colors and wings, then; and this must be Steve. She nods gently. “I just made an emergency stop- after striking what looks like a small steam train from behind at about twenty miles an hour. Shall I signal Mark to go play flagman?”
He blinks a couple times, then looks down at his hoof. “You sure he can?”
She shrugs, offering her own hoof. “I stopped a train with these,” she states. “I’m sure he can figure something out.”
He lets out a chuckle. “Go ahead,” he states. “I’d rather not get hit.”
She nods, reaching for the air horns for one last time.
One long note and three short blasts later, she makes a couple strokes to the controls and twists to allow herself to drop forwards off of her seat, landing on her hooves as the engines shut down. She stumbles, but manages to stay upright… Or, as upright as any quadrupedal stance might be. It does feel natural, not unlike standing on two legs as a human. “It looks like the occupants of the steam train were able to evacuate before we made contact, but I’m not certain. Since I only barely felt the bump, though…” She shrugs. “Wanna help check up on them?”
He manages to twist upright and rise shakily to his hooves as well, looking himself over. “Sure… I notice you have wings ?”
She nods. “I also notice I’m blue .”
He shakes his head. “And here I thought I was green .”
She rolls her eyes. “You wish. Wouldn’t be surprised, though, given…” She glances at her side. “No telling what the limits are.” She then leads the way towards the door- only to trip over her own hooves right before she reaches it, falling on her side. She lets out an undignified yelp as she falls- and takes a second to right herself again, during which her conductor stumbles up next to her.
“Something tells me poor Mark is going to have the time of his life getting far enough away to protect the train,” he chuckles, before reaching up to open the door… and failing to turn the round knob, instead falling on the floor himself.
Mary snorts, rising back to her hooves. She leans carefully against the wall next to the door, enough to place her left hoof flat against the knob, and smiles down at him. “Let me show you how it’s done,” she smirks, and twists her hoof. The knob twists with it- and a moment later, the door swings open. She promptly falls after it- but her wings argue instinctively with that, helping her twist in midair. As a result, rather than landing on her back and potentially hitting her head on the top of the staircase, she lands on her front- where her front hooves are not prepared to catch her, so she hits the floor anyways.
Steve chuckles, clambering back to his hooves to walk up next to her, before joining her in looking down the short staircase. He then glances back over at her. “So… Enterprise already found an uncharted system, then they beamed down the Captain and his trusty First Officer- only for the two to be transfigured into… um… What are we, anyways?”
She shrugs- a different effect when standing on four legs. “Some kind of quadruped, I think. I do hope the whole wings thing isn’t an unsurmountable species barrier or something. Anyways, we were transformed by some kind of… Oh, I know! The Cap’n and First Officer weren’t transformed- we’re remote-controlling robots that only look like… us… in order to communicate with the natives…? Humm…”
He shakes his head. “Whatever. NX-7327 can wait, we’ve got a minor collision with a sublight vessel to deal with first.”
This earns him a snort and a gentle shove on the shoulder, perpendicular to the staircase. She then makes a swift jump for the bottom of the stairs, in an effort to avoid his inevitable counter-shove.
Her attempt is successful- though, her landing could use some work. Her wings had spread- again on instinct- to steady her drop; she’d felt the muscles fighting against the air, allowing it to carry her forwards in a glide. Unfortunately, though, she had hit the ground at a decent pace- and not been able to absorb it all without taking a step. She’d faceplanted once again. She rises back to her hooves, turning to look back up at Steve- and actually laughs at his expression. His already gigantic eyes are wide open and staring, his jaw hanging wide.
He shakes himself out, blinking a few times, before looking back at his engineer. “You… Flew.”
She shakes her head. “Not really,” she states. “That was more of a glide… and even that was off-kilter. Much further and I probably would have landed on my side.” She lets out a sigh, and starts her way up the steps again, to rejoin him at the top. “Probably going to want to walk down it- we’re not jumping the steps off of the train.”
He nods. “Might even want to practice here, where we won’t be hurt- too much- by a bad landing.” He glances briefly at her. “Can’t exactly help anyone if we’re hurt ourselves.”
Ten ponies and one dragon watch as the thing finally strikes the back of their train. It doesn’t seem to even notice their little train, plowing into it like it wasn’t even there.
As for the VIP train Celestia had ordered, the story is very different. The rear car sacrifices itself in an effort to accelerate the rest of the train, shattered wooden panelling flying away as the iron frame buckles like so much flimsy wire. The train’s brakes are still firmly engaged, though, so its efforts are nearly in vain.
The front car is only slightly less violent, vanishing over a slightly longer period than the one behind it. It manages to accelerate the sliding locomotive a little further, but to no avail; just like its predecessor, the thin iron frame components flex and shatter, practically spraying off to the sides.
Finally, the locomotive is moving only about a third as fast as the thing is when it impacts. The coal bin veritably explodes in a shower of fuel and water, before the locomotive’s sturdier frame makes an attempt of its own to absorb the impact. It buckles as well- but would have managed to save the functional parts of the locomotive, if not for the knuckle-like protrusion on the thing plowing into the back of the boiler.
Iron panelling peels apart, blowing outwards with a cloud of scalding steam. The entire upper half of the locomotive blasts itself apart in this manner- though the blast is less violent than it might have been had the boiler been up to full pressure. The lower half of the locomotive then tilts forwards against the air brakes, sliding up the front of the thing still barrelling down upon it, before catching on something and twisting suddenly sideways, off of the tracks. It lands upside-down next to the tracks, leaving a clear path for the thing to keep going.
It doesn’t keep going, though, instead grinding to a halt just past the debris, ignorant of the ponies standing in a clear spot in the debris field, not nearly far enough for safety.
Yet in just the right position to now be abreast of the leading… thing.
The earth ponies pass out.
At least one of the unicorns follows suit, but the rest continue to stare. This… thing is around twice as tall as the train it just crushed, and around twice as wide. It’s clearly made entirely of metal- and it’s close to twice as long as their entire train had been.
Not to mention, there’s at least three of them chained together, forming only the beginning of this ginormous train. Almost as soon as it makes a full stop, the sudden hiss of releasing pressure emits from each and every one of them simultaneously.
Author's Note
This one was fun to write. And, if not for the chapter break at the end, I wouldn't have been able to figure out what to write next!
She chuckles as Steve rights himself in the doorway. It had taken them both several tries to master descending that short staircase without falling down it. Nevermind that the next staircase is not only two or three times as steep, but at least thrice as high. And with a landing of rough ground, rather than the smoother- and possibly more forgiving- metal decking.
Even so, her chuckle disappears very quickly as she steps past him, out the door. Her wings twitch as she takes in a deep breath of fresh air, blinking in the gentle sunlight.
Then he manages to right himself and steps out as well- before glancing down the front of the locomotive. He hits his head on the now head-height railing as he pulls back, turning to his engineer. “You said we hit something?” he asks.
She blinks, looking down the front of the locomotive as well. “I… I’m certain we did- I saw fragments of wood and a cloud of steam after it disappeared past the hood.”
He looks back up at the “hood” behind them, being the compartment between the front walkway and the cab. “Musta been a tiny train…?” he asks.
She nods. “Couldn’t have been more than half the size- in either height or width. As per length, I’m pretty sure we’ve got it pretty handily beat.”
He looks back at the front of the locomotive. “I’m only seeing clear track- not even so much as a bogie.”
She nods. “Me too. The passengers ran off this… Oh.”
She’d turned and walked to the right side of the locomotive- and, from the top of the steps to the ground, the debris of the ex-locomotive became visible next to theirs.
He catches the tone of her voice and walks quickly over- so quickly, as a matter of fact, that he trips over his own hooves and falls on the walkway. He rises back up again and very nearly overshoots the top of the stairs, before gazing down at the debris alongside his lead locomotive.
She blinks at it a few times- and her eyes lock onto what looks like one of the passengers from that other train galloping around the denser parts of the debris field to reach them. Steve seems to notice the passenger as well. “Looks like they want to talk,” he states, glances down the short staircase, and takes the first step.
Unfortunately, everything goes wrong. His descending hoof misses the top step- and, devoid of his support, he tumbles headfirst down the steel staircase, ending up on his back on the ground.
Mary freezes, one hoof suspended over the staircase, as she watches him tumble down. He doesn’t move when he reaches the bottom. She returns the hoof to the decking under to her, and closes her jaw. That’s a fate she does not wish to repeat.
The other train’s passenger, a yellow-orange-furred quadruped with brown hair and something pointy sticking out of his forehead, seems to put on a burst of speed- and shortly comes screeching to a halt next to the fallen conductor. “You okay?” the new quadruped- sounds like a he- asks.
There is no response forthcoming.
So this stranger proceeds to be stranger. The pointy thing on his head glows blue once or twice, and she hears him cuss.
“Is he okay?” she asks.
The response instantly makes her think doctor . She doesn’t understand most of it- though she hears ‘concussion’ is in the mix, with the term ‘contusion’ appearing at least twice.
“...If we don’t get at least a splint on that soon, he’s going to have a limp for life- but my supplies went up with the train…”
“We have a first aid kit,” she blurts out, right as he’s about to call something out. It’s nowhere near as complete as any proper doctor might be used to- even one living in a time when steam ruled the rails- but at least it’s something . And, because they ride the rails for long durations, it’s pretty well-stocked. Her own emergency medical training, unfortunately, will be completely useless to him. Unless he can’t figure out what gauze is or something.
“A first aid kit?” he asks, glancing upwards, and nods. “Get that.”
She turns back to the door, moving rather faster than she had earlier. She’s right on the edge of falling over, she knows- but this way…
This way, she gets to the first aid kit faster. She pulls it from its shelf quickly, placing it on her back- quite a challenge, to her- and makes her way back out, using her wings to stabilize it. Once she gets back to the steps, she pulls it back off her back and lowers it down towards the doctor. “Got it.”
He looks up at it, pausing for a second before his horn- she can’t think of another word to describe it with- glows again… and the entire first-aid kit follows suit, floating down to him. “That’s a big first-aid kit,” he mutters- before popping the latches and opening it up.
She watches him work. In short order, he has Steve’s foreleg wrapped tight, a metal rod- she thinks it came from the wreckage of the steam locomotive- playing the part of a splint. He’d seemed amused by all the sterile packages- and had paused to read labels at least twice. Not that she’s going to hold it against him; he is the one that knows how to treat Steve, and she’d rather he know what he is working with than the alternative.
Much like herself, actually; it’s much easier to drive a train when she knows what kind of train she’s dealing with.
He finishes touching up Steve’s new bandage before he looks back up at her. “Anypony else hurt?”
She shakes her head. “No. We…” She glances at the upside-down wreckage. “We hardly felt the bump.” She focuses on him again. “We didn’t hurt anyone, did we?”
He shakes his head. “Shining Armor is really good with his shields. The worst any of us got is shock .” He then looks up at her locomotive, even as he packs up the remainder of the first-aid kit. “What is that thing…?”
“This…” She looks up at it too. “This is locomotive 7327. Not sure how we ended up here.” She looks back down. “I am sorry about your train.”
He shakes his head. “Ponies are more important,” he states. “You said locomotive?”
She nods. “Uh, yes. We’ve got six of ‘em leading our train.”
He tilts his head. “How fast?”
She blinks. “Not very, but they sure pack a punch.” She looks at the wreckage again.
He nods gently. “How quickly could it get us to Ponyville?”
She tilts her head. “How far?”
He glances back towards his companions. “I don’t know.”
“So… How bad is he, in commoner-speak?” She indicates Steve.
The doctor glances down at him. “He’ll live,” he says, “Probably. He needs hospitalization.” He then turns to glance towards his companions. “Our drivers passed out, though. Maybe…?” He glances up at her.
She looks at the staircase, and frowns. “I… don’t particularly want to end up like him,” she finally states.
The doctor raises an eyebrow. “So jump.”
“What!?” It almost comes out as a squeak.
His eyebrow goes back down. “Pegasi are more impact-resilient than earth ponies,” he states. “It should be almost difficult for you to get hurt when falling from that height.”
She blinks, looks down at the ladder, and picks a spot of ground past Steve and the doctor. “Okay, here goes.” She jumps.
She almost nails the landing. Her wings had gone out instinctively again; she didn’t fight it, except to tilt them both upwards; she did not want to land on her back, or side. Thus, she’d managed to land right-side-up- but she had too much forward velocity, sweeping herself instantly off of her hooves. She slid a few feet before coming to a halt.
She scrambles back to her hooves, folding her wings and checking her chest for injuries. Sure enough, as painful as that landing had been, she appears to be completely unharmed. She then follows the doctor back to the party, at a vastly reduced pace. She hasn’t quite figured out how to trot just yet.
It seems most of the steam train’s passengers were unicorns. One of which turns on her as she walks up.
“What is that thing?” the purple unicorn demands of her.
She half-closes her eyes. “It’s a train.”
“And you were in the engine?” she asks.
She nods, electing not to correct the error.
“Why weren’t you scouting in front of the train, then?”
Before she has the chance to come up with an answer, a white unicorn with blue hair steps in, dragging the purple one back away from her. “Enough, Twilight,” he states, before turning to Mary. “Sorry about that. My sister can be… Energetic.”
She smirks. “One way to say it, I suppose.”
Then he looks over at the train. “I do have to ask, though- if your driver is out cold, how are we going to move it…?” He blinks at her.
She’s holding back a chuckle. “Uh, no. I’m the driver.”
He stares for a half-second or so, then nods. “That would explain why you weren’t scouting ahead of the train,” he states.
She tilts her head. “Why would I…?”
He raises his eyebrow. “If I remember correctly, whenever there is a pegasus on the crew, they’re held in reserve- firepony, usually- to scout ahead if the engineer has any reason to suspect a dangerous situation on the tracks ahead.” He sighs. “If there had been somepony available to do that, the collision could have been prevented. I think that’s what Twilight’s so bothered about.”
Then a green unicorn with two-toned blue and white hair steps up next to them. “Didn’t you see how unstable she seemed walking over?” she asks, before turning to Mary. “Did you not used to be a pegasus?”
The white one snorts. “Really?”
Mary nods. “Something like five minutes before, um,” She glances briefly back at the locomotive. “That , we found ourselves on this track. I immediately started slowing down- but Steve was unconscious until right before the… event. We…” She looks at her hoof, holding it up in front of her. “We didn’t used to have hooves… Or wings.” She glances briefly back at hers. “I can’t fly, even if I wanted to.”
The green one looks up at the train. “But you can drive that thing, right?”
Nod.
“Good… looks like our engineer managed to hurt himself when he collapsed.” She glances sideways at the doctor. “I did what I could, but…”
He nods, before turning to trot towards the creatures lying on the ground.
She turns back to Mary. “Anyways, how much passenger capacity does that thing have?”
She looks back up at it. “Um, none? It’s freight… But we can probably carry people on the outside walkways, but it’ll be noisy and uncomfortable.”
“Anywhere inside…?”
She shakes her head. “I’m afraid that, for safety reasons, I can’t let any untrained personnel inside.”
Scowl. “Oh well- we’re unicorns, we can work with that. Any chance we could get a ride to Ponyville?”
The white one seems not to approve, and finally injects himself back into the conversation. “Lyra-!”
Mary cuts him off. “No, it’s all right,” she states. “With a train this big, she won’t even notice a dozen extra people. My only worry is how far away Ponyville is- and if there are going to be any more trains in our path.” She looks at Lyra again. “There is a hospital in Ponyville, right?”
She nods. “That’s where Doctor Horse works.” She glances back at the doctor. “Ponyville should be… what, a hundred kilometers away?”
Another nod. “As long as there’s no other trains to worry about, I can get us there in around an hour.”
Twilight gasps, stepping around her brother. “What-? An hour ? But we were supposed to arrive in half an hour!”
Her brother issues a groan, but Mary beats him to the punch.
“Or you could walk ,” she states.
Twilight’s pupils contract, then she hangs her head, pulling backwards. “I’ll ride, thank you,” she mutters.
The white unicorn shakes his head with a sigh, before looking back up at Mary. “Thank you.”
Author's Note
It's been a while, hasn't it?
The door lands closed behind her. She nearly starts hyperventilating right away. For as many times as she and Steve had pretended to be flying the U.S.S. Enterprise down the tracks… For as many times as they had “encountered” new, fictional species, inspired by terrain features they passed…
None of it had prepared her for the real thing. She’s not even one of the astronauts or anything else, the ones trained in first-contact protocols. As a matter of fact, she’s not even the master of her train!
Yet, she’d still managed not only to pull off a successful first contact, but come out on top . Her position as the train driver probably helped, but so? She’d managed to not only make peaceful first contact- their train’s introduction to hers notwithstanding- but to come out of it as some sort of authority figure. They’d listened to and explicitly obeyed her mention of the safety concerns of having untrained personnel inside the locomotive.
She shakes herself out, and walks woodenly back up into her cab. Steve is unconscious on the front walkway, with the doctor- and Twilight, since apparently she knows the most about where they’re going. Both of the wakeful ponies have instructions to bang on the door if they need her; she needs to watch the displays to keep the train under control.
She clambers back up onto her seat, looking once more out the front of the locomotive. All the other ponies are on the right side walkway behind the cab, sitting on the decking to await arrival in Ponyville. Except, of course, the other train’s crew, and four of the unicorns. Their engineer only has a concussion, the doctor had confirmed- and the other five are simply in too much shock to be conscious. He’d mentioned he expected them to recover on the way over- though he wants the engineer to wake up in the Ponyville General Hospital, where he can check for- and handle- any complications.
She strikes the switches, punches the keys. All six locomotives launch into their startup programs.
Fuel pumps whine, starter motors groan. She listens to the cylinders striking out in her locomotive for a couple seconds before the first one fires. She hears matching roars rise and fall from the other locomotives, settling quickly to an easy idle.
She scowls, and punches up the consist-synchronizing computers. It hadn’t sounded quite right.
She reads down the list. At the bottom of the list, she finds two entries that hadn’t been there before.
Two entire locomotives , directly connected behind the six that should have been there, reporting stabilizing engine RPMs and full fuel tanks. Reporting the same model number as her other six.
She watches the self-test programs flicker through all eight locomotives, coming up green. Steve is going to have a field day with this- not only have they found themselves in another world, apparently, but something changed their train’s consist while it was at it! She punches in a full release on the air brakes and eight compressors start up, increasing the braking system pressure smoothly. About as fast as it had before.
She halts the process very suddenly, before it pumps up high enough to release the train for motion. She’d almost forgotten about Mark- the trainman she’d signalled to protect the back of her train! She reaches for the air horns. The ponies outside probably won’t be impressed by the noise- but she’d rather not leave her own guy out there.
No later than five seconds after the signal, the train intercom chirps. She reaches over for it; her conductor normally handles that. She touches the ‘accept’ key.
“We’re all aboard,” the trainman reports from the other end. “And recovered from… being transformed, somehow. Did we miss a signal while we were out?”
She smirks. “You must have,” she states. “We ready to move?”
“Yes. Something happen to Steve?”
She nods. “Yes. He’ll be okay- but he’s out cold right now, so I’m running us. It seems we’ve found ourselves in another world- but we’ve already encountered some locals up here. We’ve got a destination, about an hour ahead.”
“... Ahh.”
She nods. “Okay, we’ll be on our way, then.” She resumes the compressors- and gives the throttle a tiny nudge. Before long, she feels her locomotive begin to shift under her, overpowering the brakes as it begins to stretch out the slack. One glance at the pressure gauges shows this started about ten seconds before the brakes fully disengage.
At least she shouldn’t have to work directly with any of the locals for the next hour or so.
On the flipside, she will have an hour or so to freak herself out over her apparent transfiguration. She’s used the various urgent problems to keep that off her mind until now.
About an hour passes in this manner. She’s thankful for the visual barriers formed by the hull of her lead locomotive; she’s only just managing to calm herself down, and her reflection looks… frazzled, to say the least.
But now, she has to set that aside. A warning buzzer has gone off on her control panel.
She scrambles back into her seat, scanning the tracks ahead for a moment before looking down to identify the alarm.
She stares at it for a few seconds, facepalms- or is it facehoof s? She knows it’s painful. In any case, after she faceappendage -es, she zeroes the throttle and pulls it into the regenerative territory again. There’s an overheating wheel bearing on her train; it’s not quite dangerous just yet, but it’s climbing faster than a bad bearing usually does. At least, according to the odometer, they’ve just about reached this Ponyville.
And, if that doctor’s float-the-first-aid-kit trick can be scaled, that might vastly simplify the repair process.
Oh, and there’s the banging on the door. She runs her fingers- hooves - through her mane before dropping to the floor… and realizing how effective that action was. After repeating the action on her tail, restoring herself to her original appearance, before trotting down to find out what the ponies on the front walk want.
Turns out they are close to Ponyville; Twilight is telling her the town is just around the corner up ahead, so they’d need to start braking soon, given the acceleration curve she saw before.
She smiles in response. “Oh no- that was an emergency stop. It so happens I’ve already started decelerating, though, so I should be able to make a regular stop at the station without issue.”
The stationmaster raises his eyebrow at the strange rumbling noise as he emerges from his office. He gazes up the tracks; he’d been told, by Unicorn message, to expect a VIP train about half an hour ago… and there shouldn’t be anything else on the schedule until tomorrow. So why does it sound like a hundred or so freight trains are coming, all at once…? He walks up to the edge of the station platform, glancing down at the rails. The faint clickety-clack of an approaching train is already starting to come through them- though it sounds muted, as if only the train’s front wheels are actually on the tracks.
Well, he supposes, if the train weighed enough, it could crush out the noise from the rearmost wheels… But Equestria’s trains couldn’t handle that kind of weight. Only one car had ever been built with enough weight to even begin to do that- and while the track took it like a boss, the wheels couldn’t. That car had derailed just two weeks after commissioning, its front bogies collapsing on its right side. The car had proceeded to fall off the tracks- and pull much of the rest of the train with it. Luckily, the locomotive had been heavy enough it stayed on the tracks; however, its coupler had required complete replacement after being torn off like that.
It doesn’t exactly help that no trains have sounded the station approach signal. So, in theory, this could be a runaway train- one where the engineer has either fallen asleep at the controls or fallen out of his locomotive along the way.
Then he lets out an audible yelp as a tremendously loud foghorn echoes around the corner… And yep, that’s the station approach signal. He groans audibly; that was louder than any Equestrian train whistle is when standing next to the locomotive. And, of course, those whistles are limited in volume for a good reason.
Sure, they’re designed to be heard by other trains that might be nearby, possibly on a collision course- but with how fast trains can stop, they don’t have to be overly loud, and usually aren’t.
There’s no law or anything against a loud whistle- after all, as Celestia stated when somepony tried to make one, the louder it is, the better a chance oncoming trains have of hearing it. However, the industry standard is to avoid excessive volume because it bothers nearby towns.
And this horn sounds like it’s loud enough to…
It rounds the corner, and he immediately bolts behind the ticket frame. That thing is way too large to fit the station.
Then the deafening horn comes in again- and he thinks he hears escaping air at the same time. He doesn’t know- he’s not looking. He’s taking shelter.
She goes for the air brakes as soon as the station comes into view. The way Twilight had spoken had suggested the station was much further away from the corner than this, so she’s moving too fast for a normal stop.
What’s more, the station platform is too close to the tracks. Unlike a train, a station platform could contain concrete. There are at least four ponies on the right side walk of her lead locomotive, in prime position to get crushed if it falls off the tracks.
Not to mention the destruction of the equipment, or the fact that all the rest of the ponies would have a slim chance of survival, if any. She hopes the wooden platform is all wood, even as her computer takes over the task of reducing to emergency stopping pressure once again.
… She was too late. She’ll still hit the platform- but it’ll be slow enough that, even if it contains concrete, her locomotive shouldn’t be knocked completely off the tracks, just tilted.
She doesn’t even feel the bump. As the station platform reaches the front of her locomotive and begins to slide past it, she spots fragments of wood flying away from that corner of the locomotive.
Then she grinds to a halt, before passing through the entire station. A flick of the brake handle again dumps all remaining pressure; the computer hadn’t finished equalizing just yet, and quickly resets to manual control mode. She strikes the controls to shut down the locomotives, double-checks her reflection, and heads out to the front walk. She stumbles on her way down the interior staircase, but avoids collapsing, before she reaches the door.
Author's Note
And with that, this story is cancelled, for lack of plot.
A nice scenario, a nice starting position, if I may say so myself- but this story lacks a plot, and therefore doesn't last long. I'm sure digging up a lot of plot-free scenario stories in my publication loop, aren't I?