It was a day unlike any other. Sundance was so full to brimming with purpose that he feared that he might burst. The crystal tree had not one, but three new branches, fragile delicate shoots that reached skyward. To see it grow filled him with hope, with happiness, and the reassurance that he'd done right. He stood near Cucumber's grave and it was with a smile that he wondered how the old retainer would think of all the changes wrought around here. There was life now, with young ones, and joy, and something had changed here.

The bleakness was gone.

Overhead, a vomitous vulture-cat circled. Gerard seemed happy to be able to circle and Sundance supposed that it had something to do with his inner-nature. Multiple construction projects took place. Floodgate directed the construction of new berms for the terraced garden beds. These new earthworks would be shored up with timber and stone, and according to Floodgate's estimate, would ultimately result in better protection for the precious soil. No more washouts during heavy rains. Or, at least, minimal loss. Bonk and Runt made short work of the earthmoving project, while Rocky Ridge punched and pounded the stones into useful shapes.

Hennessy and Hoppy worked together on what appeared to be a wagon, but rather looked like a collection of junk. It had tubes, and valves, and tanks, and Sundance couldn't make heads nor tails of it. Much of it was made from old airship parts, while Double Helping reconstructed various wooden bits. Granny Growler tinkered away on what appeared to be a miniaturised boiler, and Sundance, for the life of him, could not understand why a wagon might need such a thing. He suspected that he'd find out what was going on soon enough—if it didn't explode violently.

Some distance away, Pluck was lectured by Hollyhock, who shouted at the colt about responsibility. Meanwhile, the other little ones frolicked in the grass, safe and secure on all sides, and with a watchful vulture-cat circling overhead. Sundance trusted Gerard's eyes. If the griffon wanted to circle to scratch some internal itch, Sundance was content to let him go about his business. Hollyhock was just getting her second wind from the sounds of things, and Sundance decided that he would do nothing to stop her. Pluck was free from his hated clinical setting, and was now getting a portion of actual, real, honest-to-goodness mothering—no doubt his heart's fondest wish. At least, Sundance liked to believe this was the case.

Rocky Ridge jackhammered a lump of granite into submission with a flurry of blows.

"Look at what you've done," Paradox said to Sundance as she drew near. "This place has so much life now."

He nodded, but maintained his silent composure.

"I met with Litany last night," the sunny unicorn said in a much lower voice. "I was deep in study, and she just let herself right into my home. She was examining Grandmother Oak. I wasn't bothered by her intrusion nearly as much as I thought I would be. She's weird, Sundance. Real weird. Like… professionally weird."

Again, Sundance nodded.

"She has so much ambition and drive. I mean, I do too… but when I compare myself to her, I feel inadequate. Litany is fifteen years of age and she's already accomplished her life's goal. We talked last night. Briefly. And then, quite abruptly I might add, just when the conversation was getting interesting, she skedaddled. Which was immensely frustrating."

"I know exactly how you feel, Paradox."

"She did that to you as well?"

"She did."

"Huh. Care to share what she told you? Maybe we can compare notes."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Visitor!" shouted Potato, who with but one word prevented the exchange of intriguing information.

Sighing, Sundance resigned himself to frustration as he prepared to meet his guest.

A pegasus in ornate armor extended one wing and saluted as Sundance trotted through the gate. This wasn't a regular soldier, no common guardspony. The golden armor was trimmed in silver filigree and there were gems inlaid in spectacular geometric patterns. Perhaps a messenger from Princess Celestia, though surely she had other ways to communicate if she so desired.

"Hail, Sire," the armored pegasus said.

"Greetings," Sundance replied, and then he immediately worried if he was formal enough for this occasion.

"My time is brief," the snazzily armored pegasus said to Sundance. "I've come on behalf of Radiance to inform you that your train station has been completed. Ensign Whizzer awaits your inspection."

"Oh my." Unable to hide his surprise, Sundance's face broke into a pleasant smile. "That's good news. Thank you."

"I must depart. I have orders to return to Canterlot at once after I have delivered this dispatch." The pegasus bowed his head, then nodded. "Pardon my hurry, Sire."

"Think nothing of it," Sundance replied. "I'll go at once so this Whizzer fellow isn't kept waiting."

"Ensign Whizzer can be made to wait a while," the guardspony said as he spread his wings. "Ensign Whizzer was mouthy and made awful puns. Now he waits. Alone. Right on the borders of the Everfree. Fare-thee-well, Sire."

Then, without another word, the unnamed pegasus spread his wings fully and flew away.

It took some searching, but Sundance found the station. He'd first found the railroad tracks, and then had to go back and forth a bit until he found what he was looking for. There was a runway, which he'd landed on, and an entire collection of buildings, which he did not expect. He was promised a depot, but this was so much more. Everything was made out of red brick and clean white mortar. It was all so new, and there was so much to take in, such as the green tin roofs, or the window trim painted in sunny yellow.

A pegasus approached, and when he drew close, he introduced himself.

"I am Punnery Sergeant Whizzer. Pleased to meet you."

The pun stopped Sundance dead in his tracks, and he had to fight the urge to grimace.

"I was warned about you, Ensign Whizzer."

"Oh, I'm harmless. We're on the same side. Whatever side that is." A reckless grin revealed broad teeth. "But I should be kept pointed at the enemy, just in case. Care to have a look around, yer Lordship?"

"Just call me Sundance."

"Well, I tried to introduce myself as Punnery Sergeant Whizzer, and look what that got me."

Sundance winced.

"If I might speak plainly, Radiance was a bit miffed that his brother, Nuance, gave him a damn good hiding. Well, in the metaphorical sense." Now with his wings splayed akimbo against his sides, Whizzer struck a thoughtful pose. "Nuance, from what I understand, went above and beyond the call of duty and built a castle. Radiance suffered a veritable symphony of unpleasant tactile stimulation in his posteriour region… more so when he realised that he had no way to show his brother up. So… he did his best to at least call a draw."

"There's a number of buildings here," Sundance remarked. "I was expecting a depot."

"That over there"—Whizzer pointed with his left front hoof—"is a post office. Or will be. The building is made to exacting Crown standards for a rural postal station. Right beside it is a telegraph station, also built to code. All you have to do is run wire to wherever your barony happens to be. The station is already connected to the line that runs along the rails. That might be a bit of a chore to get connected, but that's for you to do. Remember, the Equestrian Telegraph code demands fifty poles per mile. Not enough poles will mean that your telegraph line will sag and stretch."

He moved his hoof slightly. "That there is a barracks, for travellers. Simple. Not fancy. Has a wood stove. Twelve bunks. There's a hoof-pumped well-spigot for water. Right beside it is a water tower and a windmill, as you can see. The windmill will pump up water from the well, and there's a swingarm so passing trains can refill their boiler. Will be great for westbound traffic approaching the Canterhorn grade. And there's the platform, which isn't fancy, but it'll be functional. The roof is angled to ensure that heavy snow slides off the rear side, not trackside."

Sundance took a moment to admire the cedar water tower in all its glory.

"And that right there is a general purpose building, meant to be your ticket office and whatever else you want it to be. You could probably build a cafe or maybe even a pub in there. Not a big one, mind you. But there's enough space to be creative. There's a woodshed out back to store firewood. It is completely enclosed, so it could be repurposed if necessary."

"It's incredible," said Sundance.

"Everything was built with brick over a steel frame," Whizzer continued, his verbal ability seemingly inexhaustible. "Should be sturdy. You'll want to get a caretaker posted here, probably somepony that you don't much like because this place is in the middle of nowhere. They'll have to live in the bunkhouse. I suggested that a caretaker's cottage was a good idea, but I got shushed, because this pony wasn't enlisted for his ability to think. Which is probably for the best, seeing as how my IQ is only just above room temperature. Any higher than that, and I wouldn't be officer material, so I lucked out. I'm just stupid enough to rise through the ranks."

With his cheek muscles still somewhat aching from the earlier pun bombshell, Sundance smirked. He did nothing to hide it, either. Because why should he? Self-deprecating humour was something he himself regularly engaged in. Ensign Whizzer seemed smart enough; he had a lot to say, a near-endless stream of words, and he wasn't too terribly boring. All in all, Sundance rather liked Ensign Whizzer.

"Smart ponies make better grunts… sometimes, you have to creatively interpret orders to get them done. Ponies not smart enough to be grunts, we get stuck as officers, 'cause you don't need much in the way of brains to repeat the orders that come down the chain of command. We're special. We're a special kind of special, you could call us special forces even, and we're given command so that we stay out of the way, so real work can get done."

Whizzer grinned, and there was a manic gleam in his eye.

Just as Sundance was about to laugh, he heard the long shrill whistle of a fast-approaching train. Ears tall, his head tilted to one side, he listened, and it wasn't long until he heard a train coming from the east. Turning about, he faced himself eastward, watched, and waited. The train was a-coming. He could hear it chugging along, a distant rumble of steam-powered thunder, and he could feel the ground beneath his hooves tremble.

"Maybe they'll use the water," Whizzer said as he too turned about. "I'd like to see a train-beast have a long drink."

He saw it in the trees, a mechanical monster black and gleaming. Sundance squinted to see it better, and sure enough, it was slowing down. Belching steam and smoke, the locomotive cleared the trees and chuffed into the open meadow around the station. Its brakes squealed and the stench of hot metal thoroughly violated Sundance's nostrils. A bright red cow catcher stood out, and Sundance could not help but feel that the colour was wholly inappropriate. Perhaps something in yellow… or just basic black. The garish red colour was just plain wrong.

"Ah, that's the Rooster, running its rounds." Whizzer smacked his lips, a curiously satisfied sound, and then began to nod his head. "Cargo and passengers. Runs between Fillydelphia and Applewood. Fast, too. One of our fastest. The pride of Equestria's finest engineering minds. That locomotive wasn't just constructed, it was poured. It's so long that it has to be articulated, and it weighs a staggering six-hundred tons. Woo-woo, indeed. No other nation has the resources or the means to construct such a behemoth. Just look at it."

Sundance didn't know what he was looking at, and he didn't think it mattered. What approached was huge. No, huge didn't cut it. What came out of the trees hardly seemed real. It was the sort of locomotive that was so big that it would take at least two smaller locomotives to pull it, and just thinking about that made Sundance's head hurt. The ground quivered, perhaps from terror of what approached, and all the birds took wing as the smoke-belching behemoth slowed to a stop.

"A spare Tartarus was constructed in the guts of that beast," Whizzer remarked in a tone most solemn. "If you've got kids around, you should bring them to see the Rooster. Passes by every three days at about this time. The return east passes by here at night though. A shame."

Chuffing, huffing, puffing, the massive mechanical marvel seemed to float on a cloud of steam. Inch by inch, it slowed, and there was a sense that merely stopping required titanic effort. Sundance couldn't even imagine what it took to get it moving again, but then again, he couldn't fathom anything so large actually moving at all in the first place.

"That right there is Equestria's cock," Whizzer said matter-of-factly. "And what a cock we have."

Unable to help himself, Sundance snickered at the awful joke.

Author's Notes:

I offer no apologies.