ENTERPRISING MARE(S)

PART TWO

The Princess of the Night stared at both locomotive and relate.

Prince Blueblood, the haughty and scandalous member of the Royal family, fourteen times removed, had what was probably the worst quarrel she had ever heard, with the infamously arrogant Other Railway Express diesel engine, Old Stuck-Up.

Simply the language the engine allowed himself to stoop down had disturbed her to no end - but on the other hoof, it was nothing that snooty nephew of her didn't deserved. Finally, she recovered enough to sort things out.

"Blueblood!" she snapped at the prince "I THINK we have agreed that you would actually DO your duty withOUT ANY disturbance, and THIS is exactly what we meant, and told you to avoid, A THOUSAND TIMES! And THIS is how you repay that we accepted you back, AGAIN?!" she took a deep breath "I'll have to have a word with my sister about this, and I can assure you, I'M not going to like it. And for YOUR sake, it'll better be better than what I expect from that conversation. OR ELSE..."

She turned away from the cowering stallion, and glanced at the diesel, now sporting a haughty pout with a frown.

"And you to, Stuck-Up!" she snapped at the engine "From a such a renowned, respectable and KNIGHTED engine, I would of expected better behavior than this... This... Utter act of immaturity and vulgar outburst!"

Even after being caught in the act of telling off a royalty in front of another, more respectable royalty, behaving with such manners he barely saw even from HIS own colleges, the engine still had the balls to talk back.

"Well, you have my full, honest respect, Princess Luna." he replied coldly "But, relate of yours or not, you can't expect me to put up with such... An insufferable... Idiotic... TWAT..." he growled.

The crowd of ponies that had gathered around the scene now gasped. Luna just raised her eyebrows.

"I quite understand." she replied simply "But you'll have to put up with him on your return journey, still."

"WHAT?!" both gasped.

"Don't look so surprised." the Princess went on "Prince Blueblood IS the Royal Industrial Inspector, and his duty is to observe the train on your way back to Manehattan. And, to be honest, it's your driver that I'm more concerned about. Where is he, anyway?" she asked.

"Oh, SHE'S around..." the diesel replied, satisfied to hear the pony in question wince in his cab.

"She?" Blueblood asked.

"What, you thought this wasn't a co-ed railway?" Stuck-Up asked "Don't fool yourself. Even if it wasn't, my driver would definitely be a mare, given that the majority of Equestria is female. And speaking of females, you ought to apologize to the mare you've upset to the Gala."

"How do you even know about that?" the Prince asked with sheer curiosity.

"Not hard to find out about things, when the mare in question..." he replied, giving an effect pause, as he opened he cab door "...Is my driver!"

Tumbling out from the cab with a familiar "WA-HA-HAAHA!", came a bright white pony with purple mane and diamonds for a cutie mark. Prince Blueblood instantly recognized her, and was quite surprised, but said nothing. He just stared, getting back onto his hooves, as the mare did so as well.

They stared at each other for the longest time, both bemused. Finally, Rarity spoke up in a demanding manner.

"Well?"

Blueblood snorted.

"I don't have anything to say."

"PAH!" Stuck-Up retorted, expelling short, sooty plumes of exhaust fumes from his vents on each side, turning his gaze away with a frown.

"Very well then." Rarity replied in the same huffing manner, as she called back into the cab "Come on, Sweetie Belle, we got a train to take!"

There was no reply.

"Sweetie?" Rarity asked, now aghast.

"Over here, sis!" a voice called out. Rarity, Blueblood, AND Luna turned to see that far, far in the distance, at the other end of the platform, a cheerful filly was looking back at them with a smile on her face, her head poking out from the doorway of the control car.

"You brought your sister along?" Luna asked on a warm tone.

"Yes." Rarity sighed "I had agreed to help her with a school assignment."

"Well, we shouldn't keep her waiting!" Blueblood replied with the same sincere voice he talked to Stuck-Up not long before their quarrel. This surprised both mares, as the stallion trotted off at a quick pace, towards the other end of the train.

Rarity cast a glance at the Princess, wondering if she was as surprised as she was. But Luna had a rare, gentle smile on her face. She then turned to Rarity and Old Stuck-Up.

"Even though he's haughty and unlikeably snobbish at times, he actually means well." she explained "You just got to get him in the right mood."

And with that, she flew off - thankfully, this wasn't the roof covered part of the station.

Rarity just stared.

The journey had been uneventful for most of the time. Sweetie Belle felt it clearly that this wasn't the time for her to jabber about, so she remained quiet. Neither Rarity, nor Prince Bluebood talked to the each other, both carrying deadpan expressions...

But somewhere around the middle of the journey, the Prince began to question Rarity about her session. Starting stiffly, the conversation went on and on, and both ponies began to feel very content with themselves. They arrived to Manehattan a quarter hour early, and were greeted by the cheering of the passengers.

"I'll write my reports later." Blueblood spoke to the mare after the cheering crowd had left "And thank you for a most wonderful time."

"It's quite alright." Rarity replied happily. They had warmed to each other nicely on the trip, and now felt like they had been the firmest friends since always. Still, she felt like she needed to say SOMETHING to him:

"And, a word of friendly advise: Don't get too big for your hooves. On this journey, you showed me that you could actually act like a normal pony, what more, one of the most nicest ponies I've ever met. You should stick to that, and drop your snobbery. Life shouldn't revolve around you! Even your aunts move their celestial representations around Equestria, not the other way around!" the mare spoke, then remembered something the express engine said, earlier "Well, at least, not in OUR planetary system!"

The stallion just stared, his mind processing what she said. When he finally got all of it (except for the part with the planetary systems), he chortled, and replied:

"I'm also sorry about the Grand Galloping Gala." the Prince went on "I must have given you a terrible time, but when I heard that you are the Element of Generosity, I couldn't help but to test it." he grinned.

Rarity's eyes went wide.

"Test it? What do you mean?" she asked. The other pony snickered.

"What, you really thought I'm that much of a great big neat-freak wet blanket? I ACTED like a real git, that's for sure, but you DID had your revenge, didn't you?" the stallion chuckled "I'm still picking pie crumbs from my mane. Next time, aim for my muzzle, will you?"

"Your... Behavior... That night... Was only... An act?" the fashionista asked, eyes going blank.

"I don't really like boasting..." Blueblood replied "But what I AM proud of are my acting skills, and my tendency to shake things up, which is why my aunt Celestia haven't offered my rump to the griffon governor down in South Phillydelphia as a prize feast!"

Rarity blinked.

"What?"

"You see my cutie mark?" the Prince asked, turning slightly.

"Yes... It looks like a..." before the mare could finish, the stallion interrupted.

"Yeah, a compass rose, I get that a lot. But get THIS: it's actually a chaos symbol!"

The mare deadpanned.

"Whuuaaat?" she asked, her face dropping slightly.

Prince Blueblood took a deep breath.

"Despite that everybody believes that I'm the impersonation of snobbism and cowardice, I'm not. It's all an act, a scam, so to speak." he looked aside "I never liked being royalty. Sure, it has it's advantages, but the whole ruddy thing, eh, it's just not me. But, since I was unwillingly raised in it, and haven't learned to do proper work, I've decided I'll make myself useful in a different way: I've deliberately turned myself into tabloid material, a living scandal with a personality to boot. This takes the pressure off from my aunts and other relates media-wise, while I get the laugh."

He paused, impressively.

"My cutie mark is actually a chaos symbol, only a sophisticated, streamlined version - and likewise, I'm not Discord himself, aren't I? I just love to 'mix the manure', so to speak. Plus, I provide the necessary inconvenience to the princesses."

"HWAT?" Rarity asked with a consternated voice, making a perfect replica of Trevor's Shocked Face (also known as an O Face).

"I'm the grievance of the royal sisters, pretty much the only one beside the two main parties in the parliament and their schoolcolt cabinets. Without me, they would always have a dilly-dally shilly-shally day, getting accustomed to the nonsense of the parliament, and would go insane with all the luxury and extravagance provided to them."

Rarity closed her mouth. Somehow, somewhere in the back of her mind, this all made sense to her now.

"Well, I'll be off now! See you soon!" the Prince smiled, and trotted off, leaving the dazed and surprised mare where she was.

The two ponies and the engine bid farewell, and parted.

Rarity and Sweetie Belle headed into the city, exploring the grand metropolis, soaking up it's sights and glamour.

Old Stuck-Up, on the other hand, took a more simpler form of leisure: parking into the grand shed of the Manehattan Freight Yard.

Stuck-Up reversed into one of the berths near the middle of the shed, the workmare driving him shutting his engine down, and leaving without saying goodbye - engines like him came and went here.

Soon enough, workponies rushed out, and began cleaning and examining him for any damage.

"Ah, that's better." he thought, and closed his eyes, dozing off while the small equines worked.

By the time he woke up, it was already late in the afternoon, and the sun was not far from setting.

He was alone, the workers have already left, leaving him for his thoughts. Watching the yard, still bustling and full of life as the shunting and switching engines moved about, workmares and workcolts on their duty.

He smiled at the sight. It was good to see a railway so... Alive and thriving.

He was woken from his thoughts by the sounds of another engine. A steam engine, to be precise.

It reversed into the berth right next to his, and stopped with a strong, yet, visibly controlled wheesh of steam. The diesel eyed him up. He appeared to be L.M.S. Patriot Class engine, painted green with red lining. His wheels and cylinders, however, were unpainted, only covered by a cheap grey wax-coat, and soot. Stuck-Up couldn't see it properly, but he thought he saw the old British Railways' crest on his tender. The engine then noticed he was staring at him, and smiled.

"Good afternoon!" he greeted him. The express diesel snorted, but replied politely.

"Good afternoon. Do you have any sort of business here?"

The tender engine frowned.

"Nothing much. Just wanted to relax and get checked over." he replied "Why? Does that bothers you?"

"No, not at all." Stuck-Up replied quickly "I'm here for that reason as well."

"Right." the engine replied shortly "Are you based here as well?"

"No, but I guess you are."

The engine smiled.

"Indeed I am. Or at least will be, after the show."

"Show?" Stuck-Up asked "What show?"

"Haven't you heard?" the engine asked back "There will be a grand steam engine show in a few hours. You see, the... Ponies here in Manehattan prefer steam engines over diesels and electrics, so, they'll reveal their official fleet today!"

The diesel stared.

"You mean, Manehattan Freight Yards doesn't have a fleet right now?" he muttered, thoroughly bemused.

"There is a fleet..." the tender engine replied "See those shunters over there?" he spoke, looking into the yard. Stuck-Up followed his glance, and saw four tank engines, all painted BR Freight Black, working away among the coal trucks.

One was an London and North Eastern Railway (L.N.E.R.) J72 Class, number 69029 - he was busy shunting a long line of empty trucks towards a chute - you could really find EVERYTHING in this yard!

Another seemed to look like a J83 with red traction rods, filling up at a water tower.

The third one was clearly an M.R. 1F, thoughtfully moving some trucks through a set of points, wearing round glasses.

The fourth one appeared to be a L.S.W.R. G6, and looked quite cross, as it was stuck between two long lines of trucks, moving slowly down a longer siding. It's number, probably due to the confusing nature of it's original creator's, the London and South Western Railway's numbering scheme, and British Railways' confusion, was 30xxx. All wore the old BR crest.

Stuck-Up rolled his eyes.

"Pueh. Common shunters." he muttered. The engine frowned.

"What? To low for your taste, lad? What are you, a knight or something?"

The diesel beamed with pride in return.

"As a matter of fact, I am!" he replied "I'm Sir Alaric..." and he stopped here.

"Sir Alaric what?" the engine asked inquired, amused by the awkward look on the diesel's face. In return, Stuck-Up muttered something barely comprehensible.

"Excuse, can you repeat that?" the engine asked again.

"English Electric..." Stuck-Up uttered. Then, after a short pause, he added with a bit of regained pride "I'm Sir Alaric English Electric."

"...So, it's a bought knighthood, eh?" the tender engine sneered.

"Oh, what's it to you?!" the express engine snapped, before continuing haughtily "What does bulky sewer pipe full of hot air know about knighthood, royalty, and class, anyway?"

"Quite a lot." the engine replied shortly, then continuing with a stern voice "I actually worked through most of my life through the decades when those things actually mattered."

"So you did." Stuck-Up growled "What's your name anyway?"

"Euston." the tone of the steam engine was suddenly cheerful again.

"Euston?" the diesel mused "After Euston station?"

"Yes." the tender engine replied, surprised "How did you know?"

Stuck-Up rolled his eyes again.

"You're a Patriot Class engine, so you obviously worked on the L.M.S. before the Nationalization..."

"Cursed thing..." the engine muttered under his breath.

"WHY?! You prefer Privatization, then?!" the diesel yelled angrily, startling him.

"Heavens above, no!" the engine replied quickly.

"Right. So, you probably worked on the L.M.S. before British Railways. And when I was working in London, I heard old workmen talk about the L.M.S. all the time. It wasn't TOO hard to figure out, really."

"Well done then, Sir Al!" the tender engine smiled.

"Don't tease me, Euston." Stuck-Up smirked arrogantly "You don't wanna set me in the wrong mood..."

"Why?" Euston asked innocently, but before Stuck-Up could reply, they were interrupted by two shrill whistles, and the sound of steam engines. Two green tender engines, an L.M.S. 2P, and a G.W.R. 2251 Class, no names or numbers, reversed into the berths next to Euston. They both appeared to be female, wearing the old BR crest, and in a heated argument.

'No, I thought I made it clear: we're NOT being preserved! We're ACTUALLY being put back in full service! We're ACTUALLY going to be the part of the railway, not some excursion rides for small children!' the 2P spoke indignantly, her long eyelashes fluttering as she blinked, showing off the Clockwork Orange-style make-up on her right eye.

"Foals, Clarisse, foals! We're not on Earth anymore! These equines have generously put time and effort into getting us back in ship-shape, so, at LEAST, you can learn their dialect!" the G.W.R. engine retorted eyes half closed, revealing her pitch dark eye shadows.

"I might as well do that, Mirabell." her argument partner replied "But still, I CAN'T see why you swallow your dignity for such petty reasons! We're NOT being preserved, we're ACTUALLY back in service!"

"Clarisse, Mirabell!" the Patriot engine berated them "We have a visitor, if you haven't noticed, so why don't you two ACTUALLY quit arguing for a moment, and greet him!"

This seem to have caught the two engine's attention, as they looked towards them, surprised.

"Oh, Euston!" said Clarisse "Sorry, didn't see you there!"

"Yes, what a pleasant surprise." Mirabell added, swooning. The big engine blushed slightly, while Stuck-Up chuckled.

"Nice to meet you, ladies." he called out to them "I'm..."

"Hey, aren't you Old Stuck-Up, from the 'Other Railway'?" Mirabell asked, interrupting him. Slowly, Euston turned his gaze towards him, now looking quite smug, before he gave a hearty laugh. The diesel deadpanned.

"Yes. YES, I AM." he growled, sounding quite threatening, making the other three exchange concerned looks. Just then, yet another steam engine's whistle sounded out, and yet ANOTHER tender engine reversed into the sheds, this time, into a berth one siding away from Stuck-Up's other side. This one was a bit odd:

It was a BR Standard Class 9F locomotive, with a black tender (a simplified, white silhouette version of the old crest on it), and a green body (including his smoke deflectors, while his smoke box was black) and wheels, no name or number displayed. He stopped quietly, and glanced at the others. He had dark shadows around his eyes, and completely straight eyebrows, now in a frown. The two female engines glanced at each others nervously, and reversed slightly. Euston, on the other hand, smiled kindly, and spoke to the newcomer.

"Hello, Murcof! You're home early."

The other engine smiled, wickedly.

"I am." he stated, speaking in a low, murky voice "So, who's the new guy? I've seen him around before... "

"Oh, I'd like you to meet Sir Alaric. Or Old Stuck-Up, as I heard..." Euston smirked.

"Charmed to meet you, Murcof." Stuck-Up spoke up.

"Likewise." Murcof steamed back "So, what are you doing here?"

"Just taking a rest." the diesel replied calmly "I've been pulling the Midday Express, the, uh, Canterlot-Manehattan one."

"The, uh, Canterlot-Manehattan one, hmmm?" Murcof replied, before chortling, which sounded like cracking ice.

The two female engines were visibly uneasy with the 9F being there, slowly reversing more and more into the sheds.

"Well, I better take a rest, now..." the big engine snickered coolishly, reversing into the shadows of his berth.

With a relieved sight, the two green engines resurfaced.

"Feeewww..." Mirabell exhaled.

"Thank God." Clarissa added.

"What's with them?" Stuck-Up whispered to the Patriot engine.

"They're terrified of Murcof. Many engines are." Euston explained "But he's not bad, just a darkly sort who prefers notoriety over friends."

"No kidding about that..." the diesel muttered, before he was interrupted by a booming whistle, as YET ANOTHER tender engine, this time, a bright red L.M.S. Jubilee Class with golden lining, reversing into the berth between his and Murcof's. He stopped, glanced around grumpily, huffed, and retreated into the shadows of the shed as well.

"What-Who was that?" Stuck-Up asked, thoroughly puzzled.

"That's Conrad" Clarisse explained "Named after Conrad II, the Emperor of the Holly Roman Empire."

"Sad fact is, he's a rampant atheist..." Mirabell chuckled.

"...And, he's quite xenophobic, yard-wise, at least." Clarisse added.

"Well, he definitely does more work than you two!" a female voice called out.

Reversing into the berth beside the two green engines was a non-streamlined L.M.S. Coronation Class locomotive, painted maroon with golden and black lining, with a black smoke box and wheels, and no smoke deflectors, name or number, but, again, wearing the crest on her tender. It stopped proudly beside the two chatterbox tender engines.

"Good afternoon, Beatrice!" Euston called out to her.

"'Afternoon, Euston." she replied kindly, before noticing the diesel "And who are you?" she asked, curiously.

"He's Old Stuck-Up." Mirabell replied instead of him "From the 'Other Railway'!"

"But he calls himself Sir Alaric!" Clarissa added.

"I THINK I could have said those ALL BY MYSELF, thank you!" Stuck-Up growled angrily. Clarisse and Mirabell just smiled at him innocently, which annoyed the diesel to no end. Harrumphing, he turned to the latest arrival.

"And you are?" he asked in a polite tone.

"Beatrice." she replied softly "I'm sorry about the girls. They have a tendency to be... Chatty..."

The two green tender engines just giggled, and, after a respectful glance at the Coronation Class engine, they reversed into the sheds as well, picking up their argument where they stopped.

"I see what you mean..." Stuck-Up chuckled "So, are you one of the Duchesses?"

"Oh, no!" Beatrice replied "I'm a rebuilt engine, I was never labelled. The preservation group that put me together couldn't find anyone to sell me though, and I thought I was going to be used as a donor engine in the end..." she shivered here "But in the end, I managed to escape here, into this new world... Of ponies... I also managed to drag these to along." she smirked, glancing at the sidings were the two green engines stood.

"They seem to have some respect towards you, perhaps because of this?" Stuck-Up pondered.

"Perhaps..." the maroon engine smiled, before she noticed something "What's this?"

The other two followed her look, and saw it:

Four engines, all banged up and dirty, being slowly shunted by a sky blue G.W.R. 5600, into one of the work sheds near by. One was black, reechy, weather-worn Great Eastern Railway (G.E.R.) Class Y14 - or L.N.E.R. Class J15, as the latter company's monogram was written on the side of his tender in yellow. He looked very tired, as he was shunted tender first in the front of the row. The two engines after him were in a far worse state: both was dark brown with rust and dirt, and were clearly saved from right under the cutter's torch - one was a badly dented G.W.R. 2251 Class, it's original tender probably already cut up, as right behind him was a brand new, unpainted tender. The other was a London and North Western Railway 1185 Class tank engine, with the back of it's cab and the trailing wheels cut off, secured to the previous one's front coupling via rope. The last one appeared to be a mix between an L.M.S. 8P and a L.M.S. Royal Scot class, specifically, a high-pressure steam design, painted L.M.S. green with red lining, but with long scratches and dents going along his side. He looked very sore.

Finally, after a bit of struggle, the tank engine shunted them into the work shed, and then rolled off towards a nearby water tower for a refill.

"Hey, Andrew!" Euston called out to him.

"Yeah?" he asked back. He wasn't facing them, but he probably recognized the big engine's voice.

"Who were those engines?"

"Refugees from Barry. They have been harbored for years, but recently, they had been rescued by a bunch of fleeing Type 2s, who were also refugees, but they came from Vic Berry's. They're going to be added to the yard's basis fleet, and get this: The old timer in the front wishes to be painted in wartime black, with N.E. on his tender!"

The two steam engines sighed, but Stuck-Up was lost in his thoughts. Type 2's rescuing scrapyard refugees? 'Course, they've also been through that Hell, as they managed to get out from Vic Berry's, but...

He shuddered, remembering the stack of Class 25 carcasses he saw there, piled up sky high. The thought sent the grimace across his face, but he swiftly used it to readjust his monocle.

His eye-glass was also something noteworthy, by the way.

Back on the Other Railway, there were several faulty features about their workplace, one major one being the presence of chavs. Members of the British underclass/"new working class" caused a great deal of trouble to the engines. But one night, Stuck-Up saw a... Different side of these delinquents...

One certain night, due to some calculating tricks and set-ups by his colleges, he found himself locked out of the shed, and ended up parking in an unused goods siding. His rest, however, didn't last long. Around 11 p.m., he found his engine running, with he himself running down the line.

As he was sleeping, a group of local chavs broke into the yard, and, after lurking around a bit, smashing in windows, tagging walls and setting fire to rubbish trucks, they found the express engine, snoozing noisily on the rusty tracks. Turns out, one of them came from a family of railway workers, and had a knack for engines.

So, Old Stuck-Up was hijacked, and in his terror, he didn't shout for help. Part of him was also curious about where he was going.

The chavs took him to an unknown location.

As his eyes got adjusted to the darkness, he found out he was near an unfinished motorway - another mess up a la Torys.

The group was going to have a race with another team, but all of their vehicles had been either wrecked, or towed away. But, since the rails run along the road for on a long length, they decided they'll use a train instead.

The other team only jeered as they set to work - Stuck-Up himself was surprised by their speed and precision.

His windows received a shade.

His other end was crowned with a spoiler.

A new turbocharger, made for both speed and heavy load oriented motors, found it's way into his engine block.

And a new paintjob appeared on him, graffiti-esque, maybe, but surprisingly matching for an elegant express engine - he wasn't quite sure how the lads pulled it off, but as he stared into the water in the canal turned drainage ditch beside the tracks, he couldn't help himself but to feel comfortable in his new paintjob - it matched his personality, or at least a wilder part of him.

He received chassis light, glowing in an azure color, and halogen bulbs for his lamps. He found the former quite ridiculous, but the new bulbs enabled him to see far more further than his normal lights.

The chavs also wanted to connect a NOS tank to his cab, but he refused.

"Leave it to me!" he spoke, now in the spirit of the event, and confident with the plan he had made up.

Finally, it was time for the race.

The other team's car, an pimped out Pontiac Trans-Am, was stopped beside the rails where the tuned engine parked.

In a flash, the Pontiac's engine revved up. In the same time, Stuck-Up's motor roared to life, louder than anytime before, the turbocharger sweeping his exhausts and filters clean, making thick smoke bellow from his pipes, marking his gray roof. His lamps flickered on, and the group, now inside his cabs, put in a heavy metal CD.

In all sense of the word, the engine was ready.

The car revved louder and louder, wheels dragging on the concrete of the unfinished motorway, as the engine licked his lips, readying himself for the task.

And they were off!

Quickly, the car got ahead of them, but it wasn't long before Stuck-Up caught up to the other team, and, with a blow from his horn, elegantly passed by, part of the group flipping the bird at the other team from his rear cab.

That was when their rivals turned to nitro on.

They zoomed pass, leaving a green flame-trail behind, disappearing for a brief moment. The group was upset, but the diesel was still confident.

"Be patient and wait for my signal. We'll have those jokers where we want them in matter of minutes!"

He wasn't wrong.

The other group had went so fast and so far, that their NOX had ran out completely. However, they had arrived to a bend, and couldn't see the Class 40 catching up to them, so they slowed down, and cruised on the cracked, half-done road, smoking C-grade cannabis and drinking cheap liquor, steadily making them drift into a peaceful, yet strong stupor.

They didn't noticed the diesel catching up to them, his lamps and chassis lightning off, and his turbocharger silenced, following the car like a large shadow cast by nothing and no-one. But as his oval buffers came next to the rear bumper of the car, he called out to his temporal drivers.

"NOW! Blow the horn!"

The next second, Stuck-Up's booming, deep secondary air-horn blasted into the air, making even his 'own' group jump.

The blare woke up the other dream from their substance-inducted torpor abruptly, the driver loosing control over the vehicle.

Stuck-Up's eyes went wide, as he saw the Trans-Am tail slide left and right on the road. This miscalculation of possibilities didn't seemed to be heading to an adequate ending, let alone a happy one.

"SLAM ON THE BRAKES!" he yelled. Equally scared, the chavs did so, making him come to a full stop, just as the Pontiac broke through the crash barrier right in front of him, flying across two railway tracks' worth of width, ending up nose first in the boggy drainage ditch beside them.

Initially, the express engine wanted to make sure their rivals were alright - or alive, the very least.

But the chavs wanted to hear nothing of it.

He was put in reverse, and raced all the way back to the very siding he parked early that night. Or was it last night? According to the clock, it was 3 a.m. - he had been away for five hours!

Hurrying, the chavs removed the spoiler, and the chassis lighting, but left the rest - paintwork, window shades, halogen bulbs, and the turbocharger of course. They were about to leave, when the police showed up. Apparently, a late night fitter working overtime had saw Stuck-Up leave the yards, lamps off and without any symbol of permission - no code, no assignment mentioned to the workmen earlier.

It took time for the police to arrive, as there had been numerous accidents and crimes in the city that day - ram raids, mostly. All a cover for the train-thief group to do their business with the rival scallies from the industrial side of town.

Stuck-Up was turned off, and suggested the group to hide in his engine room.

The police did came, and inspected his cab, but found nothing - the badly lit yard made his new paintwork seem like mere graffiti. When they wanted inspect further, he told them off, having a knowledge in bureaucracy and regulations, even of those beyond the rails. Not to mention his hectic and arrogant behavior annoyed the pigs to no end, so they left.

And no sooner they did, the chavs made their way home as well - they wanted to tank the express diesel, but he was fast asleep, exhausted from the night's events.

For a good two weeks, Stuck-Up made Sir Wyatt Fronts very happy - his new turbocharger made him a much faster engine, and he actually arrived on time with his express! The halogen bulbs enabled him to do night runs with ease, even on the most shady parts of the line, as vandals thought him to be part of the police, and scurried away. Also, his new paintwork caught the attention of many, and the Thin Git's smile couldn't have been broader, when donations and extra money arrived from the council, to support a "modern, innovative railway". The snooty engine just swaggered on.

But two weeks after his race, he became a victim:

While taking slow goods to a neighboring electric railway, he passed under an overpass, well in electric territory. Suddenly, an unknown and unnoticed figure flung a long, uninsulated wire over the catenary. It hanged as low as the sleepers, and there was no way the engine could stop in time.

He hit the wire, exposing himself to thousands of volts of electricity. It quickly shorted his engine out, leaving his driver stuck in his cab, as he had turned into a Faraday-cage.

It took time to rescue them, turning off that section of the wiring, and pulling him away, while an electric engine took his train.

His driver was alright, but his motor's electric system had been burned out, his light bulbs blown up by the surge, and he himself feeling clapped out, with two vertical burn marks on his face.

Spamcan pulled him back home, the usually gruff and sardonic goods engine staying respectfully silent.

Bowler took his express while he was mended. This meant that his new paintjob was washed off and replaced with a temporary red one - that was the only paint the workmen had, as their load coming from the industrial district was mysteriously delayed.

But this time, Sir Fronts didn't take seconds thoughts about spending the money he received on the engine rather than on his own delight. After all, he owe to Stuck-Up for two weeks of great success.

In the final day of his hiatus, Stuck-Up was operational again, and still had his turbocharger. He was also equipped with an additional generator to power his coaches, new pneumatic brakes (his old ones being defunct for a long time, meaning he had to use friction-brakes), halogen bulbs again, and naturally, a new motor with a cutting edge electrical system. His window shades had also been taken off, but he didn't mind - he knew it very well that it was dangerous for an engine to have such vision-decreasing complements, swagger or not.

His burn marks had completely healed, and he was practically ready. He even gotten used to his new, crimson paint with a dark gray roof - his face remained yellow.

But on that day's afternoon, he had visitors.

A few from the group of chavs have turned up, checking if he was alright. They explained that the sabotage was the revenge of the other team from the industrial district.

Thanks to Old Stuck-Up, they not only lost the race, but their best car as well.

And as a gift for that stunt, and the accident had head suffered through, they presented him with what appeared to be monocle, made out of a spoke-less bicycle wheel, with ebony framing, and a large, black chain. With a help of a few workmen, they secured the chain to the grid on the side of Stuck-Up's front, and placed the eye-glass on.

He did suffered a minor eye damage to his left eye in the accident - nothing serious, though -, so he was pleasantly surprised when he found out the monocle did improved his eyesight.

"We nicked the glass from an observatory." one of the chavs grinned.

Stuck-Up was most pleased, and grateful, grateful enough to put in a good word for the lads, who soon found themselves honorary members of the Barrow Regional Transit, which, financially speaking, lifted them from their chavhood.

The monocle remained on him since, becoming a part of him, his image, his persona...

But if you would of looked closely, you'd see that, although barely noticeable, the ebony frame of the monocle had Burberry check prints on them.

"Sir Alaric?"

The diesel looked up.

Rarity and Sweetie Belle were trotting towards him across the tracks.

"Rarity? What are you doing here?" he asked "Shouldn't you two be home by now?"

"I fear not." Rarity replied "Your midnight run was cancelled due to a serious connection delay from Phillydelphia. I heard it when we came back to get on a train back to Ponyville. I had agreed to drive you home."

"Oh. Well, that's a pleasant surprise!" the diesel smiled, and opened his cab door.

As the mare and the filly climbed in, there was a booming whistle. The next second, Conrad shot out from the siding beside Stuck-Up.

"Out of my way!" he shouted, and raced off. Rarity and Sweetie could barely make it into the cab.

"Feckless jokel!" the express engine shouted.

"He nearly hit us!" the filly exclaimed from inside his cab.

"Hmph! I shall contact Yard Control at once!" Rarity declared, climbing into the seat.

They rolled off, and after a refill, they set out home - but only went as far as the first signal gantry, WITHIN the yard.

A workcolt came up to them.

"There are two engines that have been based in Trottingham Junction, but haven't been there before. Can you take them with you?"

"Of course!" Rarity replied grandly.

"As long as they go by their own power!" Stuck-Up added.

"Alright!" the stallion chuckled "They're waiting at the first signal box outside the yards!"

The two engines were indeed at the first signal mount, resting in a siding. One was a green L.N.E.R. D16, numbered 8783, with a golden numberplate on his splasher, reading "Phoenix". The other one was a BR Class 127 double-unit diesel railcar, painted Rail Blue with full yellow fronts. He didn't had a name, or number displayed, but a headcode on the panel above his cab - 10751.

He was the first to speak, as Stuck-Up stopped beside the two.

"Are you 40125?" he asked sincerely.

"Indeed I am. But my name is Sir Alaric!" Stuck-Up replied haughtily.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." the railcar replied, now speaking quieter, with even more respect "I'm... 10751. Just 10751. And his name is Phoenix." he added, glancing at the tender engine in front of them.

"Good afternoon!" Phoenix greeted them cheerily "Can you escort us to Trottingham Junction?"

"Certainly!" Rarity replied "Just follow us!"

And they did.

The trip back to Ponyville was longer, as they were now just three cruising engines, not a train of any importance. They had to stop and wait at many signals, and by the time they reached Trottingham, it was well in the evening. Phoenix and 10751 said their goodbyes, and departed to the sheds, where the other engines have been waiting for them. Yeah, they actually were!

The Class 40 and his crew then trundled on, and soon arrived to Ponyville station.

They stopped beside platform 4 for a breather, enjoying the cool air. Rarity and Sweetie Belle had already left his cab, and were now standing beside him, leaning at his side.

"Well... It was a busy day today." Stuck-Up spoke up, summing up his thoughts.

"Indeed." Rarity replied, before turning to her sister "Do you have enough material for your report?"

"I think so." Sweetie replied "Although..."

"Hang on!" the diesel interrupted them "What's going on over there?"

Platform 2 was crowded by ponies. Anxious ponies.

Beside the platform stood Pip & Emma's train, all doors open.

The engine and the two ponies exchanged glances.

"You two should go there, and find out what's going on." Stuck-Up declared.

"Right." the two replied in unison, and left for Platform 2.

Doctor Whooves was there, trying to calm the passengers.

"What's the matter?" Rarity asked, walking up to him.

"The train's stalled!" the Doctor explained in a hurry "Pip's engine overheated, and the weight was too much for Emma. She can still be restarted, but she won't be able to push the train on her own."

"Then get another engine!" Rarity advised. The Doctor rolled his eyes in an annoyed manner.

"That's what I'm been trying to do in the past twenty minutes! Thank Celestia they were AHEAD of schedule!"

Rarity thought for a moment.

"Why don't we use Sir Alaric?" she asked. The stallion spun around.

"Who?!"

"Errrm... Old Stuck-Up?" the mare tried.

"Oh! 40125, you mean?" the Time Lord/Yard Manager/Station Master asked back "We could, but... There's no way he could pull, OR push this train!" he went on, pointing a hoof at Pip's streamlined front.

"Hmmm... Well, yes. That's inconvenient..." the mare muttered.

Sweetie Belle, who had been sitting with a pondering face since about a time, suddenly jumped, eyes sparkling!

"I got it!" she exclaimed, successfully making everpony look at her.

"You got... What?" the Doctor asked.

"I know how to get Stuck-Up to pull this train. But he won't be pulling it... OR pushing it!"

The Doctor and the fashionista just stared, utterly confused. The passengers exchanged puzzled looks.

"...Sweetie Belle!" her sister asked "Whatever do you mean?"

"It's simple!" the filly replied "If Stuck-Up can't PULL or PUSH the train, he should do both! From the middle!"

"WHAT?!" everyone asked.

"It's something I saw back in Manehattan." the ivory filly explained "A steam engine was moving some coal trucks, pushing one line from behind, while pulling another which was coupled behind it. Emma could still move, right? If we separate the train in the middle, and put Old Stuck-Up in there, he and Emma will surely be able to take it to wherever it's destination is! He IS an express engine, after all!"

Stuck-Up had heard all, and while he only groaned (and swore) when thinking of the extra job, he smiled inwardly.

"Clever filly."

The train was soon arranged.

Philippa, now unable to move on her own, had agreed (quite obviously) to keep a look out for signals and such. Emma was started again, her engine already cooled out over the time they waited there, and was ready to go. Stuck-Up...

Claimed he was BORN ready.

"I'm BUILT ready!" he replied contently to the Doctor from between to coaches. All the passengers have climbed back into the coaches. Emma and Stuck-Up's engine revved up. The guard blew his whistle, and, with engines roaring up, the train began to move.

"Ouuh!" the Class 40 groaned uncomfortably, feeling the strain on both of his couplings. Slowly but surely, they left the station, and rolled out onto the open line, where they began to pick up speed.

They passed through junctions, signals and unscheduled stations - ponies and engines alike, cheering as they ran pass.

Every time they approached another station where they had to stop, Pip blew her horn, and both Stuck-Up and Emma braked hard to stop the train, high-speed once again. Finally, they left the last station behind, and headed for Canterlot.

"How late are we?" the express engine asked.

"About five minutes, but we still made good time, after being stalled like that!" Pip replied.

"Five minutes..." Rarity pondered "Do you think we can make it there on time, Alaric?"

"I don't think so..." Stuck-Up replied.

"Aw, c'mon, Sir Al!" Sweetie encouraged him "You're an express engine! You haven't been late, not even a second, since you arrived!"

"Oh yeah? I haven't been on time for twenty five years flat before I arrived to Equestria!"

"...That's the past! You can do this, Stuck-Up!"

"You know what? You're right! I CAN do this! And I WILL! Let's go!" and he charged on, going faster and faster. Emma soon found the train getting lighter. Then, she suddenly found herself being pulled by it!

Rarity was keeping an eye on the speedometer.

134 miles per hour.

136

138

140

"We're over 140 miles per hour!" she cried out, trying to shout over the roar of the motor behind them.

"What?" Stuck-Up asked back, unable to hear her through the noise of his own engine.

142

144

146

147

145

143

"We're losing speed!" Sweetie Belle yelled "Come on, Sir Alaric, you can do this!"

That, somehow, reached through the din, along with a barely audible whisper from Rarity.

"You can do it, Stuck-Up!"

His engine growled with renewed energy. Both ponies' eyes were plastered on the speedometer.

145

146

147

148

"That's the fastest any diesel had ever went!" Sweetie gasped.

147

148

147

146

147

148

149

"OH MY GOSH!" Sweetie shout, turning to her sister "Sis! Stuck-Up did it! He's the fastest diesel on the world!"

Rarity didn't reply.

"Sis?"

"...He's... Still doing it."

150

153

156

159

163

167

171

176

181

187

193

"TWO HUNDRED!" Rarity screamed "WE'RE GOING FASTER THAN TWO HUNDRED MILES PER HOUR!"

...But her voice was drowned in the thunderous roar of the diesel's motor.

At the gates of Canterlot, the train, still running (rocketing) steadily at the speed of 200 miles per hour, began to slow down, albeit very gently to lessen to impact of the momentum on the passengers. But this deceleration wasn't the work of the drivers - Emma's driver was still a state of shock, Pip's had passed out, and Rarity and Sweetie Belle were in a sort of trance, eyes fixated on the speedometer.

Not one, not two, but THREE force fields caught the impromptu bullet train as it crossed the gates. One, glowing bright white, put the passengers at ease, calming their nerves, and temporarily "switching off" gravity on their bodies, so as to save them from the inevitable thrust of the stopping train. Another, ethereal dark blue, grabbed hold of the train itself, gently but firmly bringing it to a halt. The third one, a two-tone gray, reached into the machinery itself, turning off the overrun engines, cooling hot axleboxes, and steadily increasing the pressure on the air brakes.

The signalmares and colts were still given a hard time, letting the rapid train through the yards without any accidents. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Pip finally stopped, inches from the buffers.

Opening one eye, she glanced around. Opening both, she looked up. On the platform stood Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Alexei, the foreign, stick-figure-like God, all partially in railway officer attires: Red, dark blue and gray peaked caps with a slightly altered BR double arrows symbol on, blue coats displaying name and position, and, well, that just about sums it up.

It took exactly one second for the High-Speed Diesel to comprehend the sight. Then...

"WOOOOOOTHATWASTOTALLYAWESOMEWEHADBROKENTHESPEEDRECORDOFOUROWNKINDCANWEDOITAGAIN?!" she jabbered euphorically, still on an adrenalin high.

The three deities exchanged looks.

"No. It's too terrifying of a stunt to repeat!" Celestia spoke sternly "We're glad all of you are still in one piece."

"Thanks to us!" Luna added crossly "How did you even managed to go that fast?! You're type, as far as I know, can only go as fast as 148 miles per hour!"

"Wasn't me!" Pip replied, now a bit ashamed "My engine's out! You should ask Emma or Stuck-Up."

"We'd like to speak to your driver first!" Alexei spoke up. Pip looked a bit embarrassed.

"Then you better get some smelling salt."

"Oh."

Emma was still in a state of shock when the three gods teleported to her.

"Never... Again..." she muttered to herself "Never. Fucking. Again!"

It was almost comical to see the usually cutesy-poo engine so ruddy serious, if it wouldn't been equal amounts disturbing as well.

Her driver, woke from his own shock, explained that Emma's engine had been turned off after the train started to TOW her rather than being PUSHED by her.

Which draw the deities to a surprising conclusion:

"If it wasn't Pip..."

"Or Emma..."

"Then... It could only be..."

And they ran towards the center of the train.

Number 40125, Sir Alaric English Electric, or Old Stuck-Up, as his delinquent colleges happened to call him, did his best. Truly.

After all, he was working as a middle engine, bound to go slow, even with another engine pushing the train from behind, and, express engine or not, he had his limits. But now, he had pushed his limits beyond expectations.

As he heaved and panted loudly, oily sweat running down his yellow, metallic face. His monocle popped of from his eye, leaving a round mark around it, after being pushed into his "flesh" by the emulation. His mind still hazy from the loss of oxygen, all he could do was make tired attempts at fixating his breath.

Rarity and Sweetie Belle slowly woke from their unconsciousness. While their eyes were transfixed on the meters before their eyes, in a trance after they passed the magic 200, it was evident that they wouldn't notice the magically conjured force fields, and would end up being knocked back by it, with the momentum then swiftly knocking them back forth, head-butting the control panel. The deceleration successfully plastered their foreheads onto the plastic, but thankfully, with a bit of unicorn trickery, they were able to get off...

Opening the cab door, they tumbled out into the crowd surrounding the engine. And instantly, the gathering of ponies burst into cheers, congratulating them on their fine work. From a five minute delay, they made excellent time, and actually arrived TEN minutes early! Sure, it was a rad ride, but it was worth it! They had broken every rail speed record in Equestria!

They've also broken the record of the fastest diesel engine(s)'s on planet Earth, but that was beside the point - as the ponies didn't knew about that at all.

Laying flat on their stomach, to tired to even respond.

"Sis..." Sweetie Belle whispered "I'm going to say something which I'll probably NEVER going to say again..."

"Yes?"

"I wanna go to bed..."

The crowd suddenly went quiet. Too tired to stay fully conscious, the mare and the filly closed their eyes. Before Sweetie did so, she saw three figures walking through the crow, which separated to give them space - lots of it, actually.

They were woken by Stuck-Up's gasp.

"Y-Your Majesties!"

Instantly, the two ponies shot right up, standing once again, with a little stagger. The two princesses, and the Flat Controller looked down at them... Smiling?

"Princess Celestia! Princess Luna!" the ivory filly exclaimed "And... Mr. Alexei, right?"

"Indeed." the lanky figure replied kindly "Where here to congratulate you."

"Congratulate us?" the diesel asked "But why? We've probably broken every speed and safety regulation ever to be made in railway his..."

"Never mind that!" Princess Luna smiled "You might have done that, but it was for making up for lost time!" she began to smirk "And you did exactly that, in fact, you did it so well, you arrived early! AND you've broken more than one speed record!"

"I've received Prince Blueblood's overlook on your machinist qualities." Celestia added, whipping out clipboard with a few pages on it "Good to know he's ACTUALLY doing his job." she mumbled to herself, as she read the pages.

"He praised you to no end." Luna explained to Rarity "And called 40125, quote, 'a most valuable, important asset of the railway, truly remarkable and strong, both mechanism and mentality-wise'."

The diesel gave a tired, but prideful smile. Rarity and Sweetie joined in, as Celestia finally looked up.

"All right, all set." she declared, "handing" the clipboard to Alexei "I think it is needless to say that your trial as express train engineer was ultimately successful! Rarity Belle, as Princess and Chairmare of Equestrian Rail, I'm pleased, and after such awe-inspiring stunt, honored to announce that you're now officially the honorable member of the railway. Mind though, your position here is high in class, first class that is, as you're specifically an express driver." she finished.

Rarity was speechless. She just smiled broadly, a happy tear escaping her eye. Her little sister also beamed proudly.

"And!" the Princess of the Night, now railway inspector of some sort continued "I'd also like to announce, that diesel locomotive number 40125, Sir Alaric English Electric is now "your" engine. He may be driven by others, but you are his official driver."

"AND!" Alexei added "Sir Alaric, more commonly known as Old Stuck-Up... I'm most pleased to announce that on your journey from Ponyville station to here, Canterlot Central, you have managed to accelerate to the point where you went faster than two hundred miles per hour for a good five minutes of your trip, specifically, two hundred and FIVE miles per hour, thus setting a new record for all diesel engines in Equestria - possibly even the world! For that..."

He stopped, and pulled out a grand, blue and golden ribbon from an inner pocket of his coat, and placed in the side of the engine by a magnet on the back. Inside it was pin with a bright red Number 1 on a BR symbol on it.

"It... *huff* It was n-nothing... *huff* Sire..." the diesel smiled.

There was a loud CLANK!

And Old Stuck-Up came crashing down onto the rails, cursing out loud in pain, ending up sitting in an awkward position... On his chassis...

After the cacophony died down, the younger princess called out.

"What has happened, Stuck-Up?"

The engine looked away sheepishly, embarrassment printed all over his face.

"Weeell..." he muttered awkwardly "My wheels MAY or MAY NOT have popped off my axles..."

The Princesses, the foreign deity, and the two pony sisters stared at him, bemused, as the workponies rushed over to check for any damage.

Celestia just shook her head, and turned back to the unicorns.

"Sweetie Belle." she spoke gently "Step forward!"

The filly proceeded.

"Thanks to your ingenuity, this train could arrive on time, what's more, you've made a contribution in breaking the record of the fastest diesel engines in the world!"

"Now, you're not old enough to join the railway..." the Flat Controller explained "But, for all of your contribution, we'd like to give you, and your sister two tokens of our gratitude. One..." and he handed her a bright red peaked cap, similar to the his, but with horizontally stretched BR logo on it. Smiling ever-so-proudly, Sweetie Belle placed it on. It was too big for the filly's head, but her horn kept it from covering her eyes.

"And two." the figure went on "If your parents will check their bank accounts, anytime soon, they'll be in for a surprise: ONE BILLIARD BITS added to each of their accounts. You know, a little something to buy candy and material with.

It was that moment that Rarity's jaw hit the ground.

"WHUAT?!" she gasped.

"Come on, now!" Luna soothed her "Don't worry, we're not taking the taxpayers' money to you. It's actually Alexei paying from his own pockets!"

"But... How could you afford it?" Sweetie asked. The deity just shrugged his shoulder.

"Hey, I'm a god. What do you think, where do all the engines across the country and the provinces get their daily load of coal, water, oil, and alcohol. These things, especially coal and alcohol, cost fortunes in Equestria, especially in the amount we require it!" he went on "And also, most of Equestria's soil is completely devoid of petroleum. I have to conjure it up along with the other three! So what's a few bits if I already hold up a bloody economy?" he chuckled.

Rarity was speechless.

"But why so much, still?" she finally blurted out after a few minutes of awkward silence. The god smiled.

"I don't know if YOU noticed, but you also made YOUR contribution in making the train arrive safely, aside from being Stuck-Up's driver. When you lot passed through our force field, we felt an enormous magical force surrounding the entire train, like an aura. That aura held the train together along the journey. Without it, the acceleration would of torn the couplings apart, and there would been a terrible accident." he explained "This aura was YOURS. You kept it alive all along, assuring the safety of everyone on board, which is not only noble, but damn impressive as well! That's why I'm giving you lot such amount of money."

The royal sisters exchanged looks.

"Anyways..." Celestia spoke up "I think there's something you'll have to write, Sweetie Belle."

"A Friendship report?" the filly asked.

"Not exactly." the solar princess replied "But a report, anyway... That's why you've spent your day with your sister, now didn't you?"

Sweetie Belle was awed.

"Princess Celestia! Do you know everything?!"

The alicorns chuckled.

"Less than what you imagine..." Luna replied "So... A report, is it?"

"Can't be worse than the Beeching report!" the diesel barked in from the side.

Again, Celestia and Luna just exchanged puzzled looks, while Alexei chuckled.

"But... How am I going to write it? It's already late, and I've done nothing! I just took notes."

"That's quite enough" Celestia smiled "'Cause I'm going to get you the help of Equestria's BEST homework writer!"

And on cue, Twilight Sparkle appeared.

"Anypony called?"

"And presenting us her report today is... Sweetie Belle!"

With a lump in her throat, the filly rose from her desk, and walked out, in front of the class, to the center of the blackboard, as Miss Cheerilee gave her space... Fiddling a bit with her notes, she cast a quick peek at her peers. Her friends, Apple Bloom, Scootaloo and Twist were, of course, rooting for her. Even Snips and Snails, the class' dim jokers were cheering quietly for her. As predicted, Diamond Tiara just yawned and turned her gaze away from her, casting a knowing glance at Silver Spoon. The gray filly, on the other hand, was, at LEAST, staring towards her direction, eyes blank of course. Given the fact that she WAS from an actual noble family (unlike her friend, who's father 'just' came from a family line of very successful entrepreneurs), she was given a much better education in etiquette and manners from her parents. As common with nobility originating from the North-western part of Equestria, her family had a thing for discipline. This has eased over the generations, but still, Silver Spoon knew HOW to act in public.

"Yesteryear, I made a report on my sister, Rarity, who, as you might know, Ponyville's only fashion designer, owner of Carouse Boutique, and one of the most famous fashionistas in Equestria."

The class emitted a groan.

"Mediocre laborer at best." Diamond Tiara muttered to her friend "Good sense in fashion, though..."

"Shush!" whispered Silver Spoon. Her friend's rude comments had gotten them into trouble a couple of times by now, and she was NOT willing to risk her grades for another of Diamond's retorts. Not again.

"This time, I wrote about my sister, Rarity, again..."

A more audible groan ascended from the class.

"BUT!" Sweetie went on "This time, from a completely different perspective, altogether!"

THIS caught everyone's attention.

Sweetie Belle was famous (infamous, even notorious) for her lexical knowledge. But not her lexical SKILLS. It was rare from her to actually use the difficult words she could detail. So, naturally, this made everybody interested.

Wondering, waiting, and skeptic looks mixed in the crowd.

With a deep breath, her report truly began...

"As you might know, recently, Equestria's biggest transporting system, the railway, had grown larger than it was, and received new trains. These, however, not any trains. They've came from another world, and, if any of you visited Ponyville Railway station recently, you would notice they aren't exactly "lifeless objects". In fact, they're quite alive, and intelligent. These living machines came from a world, which, as I found out, is much more crueler and darker than ours. Thus, they are a bit embittered and grouchy at times, but all the same, they work hard with no fuss..." Sweetie continued "Now, allow me to tell you about my sister, Rarity, now a honorable member of Equestrian Rail, and not just simple workmare, too: She's the selected driver of the Canterlot Express!"

Everyone gasped.

"WHAT?!" the two snobbish fillies gaped.

"Wow!" Scootaloo cheered "That's amazing! Wait..." her eyes went wide.

"What's the matter, Scootaloo?" Cheerilee asked.

"Yesterday night, the midnight express was cancelled." the orange filly explained "Instead, a commuter train was brought to Canterlot by the local express engine, after the two engines pulling it broke down, overheated or something. Now, that very train broke the speed record of Equestria's fastest train ever!"

"I know." the alabaster filly replied calmly "My sister was driving that train. And I was with her..."

She smirked. Everyone was paying attention now. With a proud smirk, she went on...

"Well, this certainly... Lifted the veil from a few things..." Alexei muttered.

"What do you mean?" Prince Blueblood asked, putting his railwaypony coat onto the hanger.

"The little feat that Rarity and Old Stuck-Up had put up last night revealed a few things to me..." the humanoid spoke thoughtfully "Promising in a short distance, but in longer terms... I'm not sure... It remains uncertain to me..."

"Promising? How so?" Princess Luna asked, breaking her gaze away from the bustling capital beneath them.

The foreign god didn't reply...

"Alexei?" Celestia asked "Alex?"

"Alex?" the stickly figure asked back with a smirk "Are we that much aquinted now... Celly?"

The elder princess deadpanned, before bursting out into a short, hearty laugh...

"Hey! That name's for FAMILY. MEMBERS. ONLY!" Luna snapped, more annoyed than angry.

"Is that so... Lulu?" the deity smirked smugly, flinching the alicorn mare's nose. Blueblood was most amused...

"The nerve...!" she chuckled, shaking his head, before receiving a great big noggie from the immortal controller of the railway.

"A, shut up, Blue!"

When everybody stopped laughing, the Princess of the night asked again.

"So, what are those positive sights that you've seen?"

The god replied with a thoughtful look.

"The sheer displays of power..." he explained "As all of you probably now, the spell Rarity Belle has cast onto the train, even if it was a mere gravitational pull and stabilizing spell, would needed the strength and stamina of an alicorn to accomplish. Of course, an alicorn, as far as I know, could handle such basic spells with ease, but it still takes that amount of strength to even conjure it. And, if what Twilight wrote to you is true, Rarity is actually the LESS powerful unicorn of the Elements of Harmony." he went on "On the other hand, while Stuck-Up IS an express engine, there's simply NO way that he could of brought that train up to that speed, especially on his own!"

"So what your saying is that Rarity also sped him up?" the Prince asked, amazed.

"I think it's more mutual." came the reply "We have told you about the Elements of Hatred and Defiance, haven't we?"

"Aaaah, yeah, yes, Aunt Celestia did." Blueblood replied "There are seven on both sides, plus two additional ones that don't belong to either sides, and pairs from the two sides can form a third row of devastating new elements."

"However..." the deity spoke to him "I forgot to mention that the Dark and Light ones also COMPLETE each other, keeping balance, and the Dim ones locked up tight, so they may not cause any harm. Together, they can make each other stronger, as they balance each other, dynamically revolving around one another, giving immense power to their possessors." he came to a conclusion "What we had witnessed yesterday was clearly a display of that effect being in action, both Rarity and Stuck-Up went completely beyond the limits their physical bodies possess. This means that they're one of the contrast pairs...

"Wait, do you know of any other pairs?" Celestia asked. Alexei didn't reply at first. He was thinking...

"I have... Assumptions... Rarity and Stuck-Up being one of the pairs was one of my ideas. And I'm quite surprised to see them to be the first one to show up."

"Anyways..." Blueblood spoke up" We have this case to look into. An engine named Conrad, or Carlos, or something, causing trouble in Manehattan's Freight Yard.

"Carlos?" Alexei asked back, before smirking, as familiar lyrics floated into his mind...

"Is he Gay or European, Gay or European, that's the elephant in the room..."

The others just stared at him...