The Union Pacific railyard in North Platte, Nebraska buzzed with life as engines huffed, puffed, revved, and thrummed in their daily grind. Among them was Rail Jack, a relatively new train built just this year of 1971 in January. He stood out among the rest with the vibrant red hair, gleaming golden chest, and the proud number "6936" displayed on the back of his vest in gold. His size was imposing just like the others of the centennials, yet nimble enough for precision work in the yard. The first of his kind had been 6900, Golden Spike who had been in service for about two years now. Their introduction had essentially been a death sentence for the world known to steam engines. Diesel was truly here to stay.

"Alright, Jack, time to move!" He would say to himself each morning as the sun rose over the horizon. Mornings were always the same. Couple up to my freight cars, check the couplings and air hoses. Get the go-ahead from the yardmaster, then rumble on out of the yard at a steady clip. His daily in-yard tasks consisted mostly of moving cars with the switchers to help them speed things along. The distances he travelled varied, sometimes just within the confines of the state, while other days he ventured further across the country. But no matter how far or wide he roamed, it always seemed to be more of the same.

"So, you got those containers ready to go?" Angelus shouted over at him, a bit away but slowly coming closer. His yellow and silver streamliner frame looked good and he knew it by the way he posed. It was as if he was expecting someone to take a picture of him at any given moment. After all it had only been on may 3rd that he had pulled the final train of Union Pacific's passenger service. He wasn't bulky and looked speedy. A different sight compared to the much shorter other diesels.

"Ahoho, of course. I was built for this, 904. I love helping the switched pull my train together" He said as he hooked up the last of the cars filled with goods, he could feel every hitch and clank reverberating through his frame. He knew the process like the back of his hand. It was a dance he had performed countless times, and every step was ingrained into his very being. The rest of the train was empty hoppers that needed to sent to be filled up. He slowly backed up to the line of freight cars waiting for him. His wheels rolled effortlessly against the metal tracks.

"Easy there, Rail Jack," Angelus teased, watching now from a nearby track. "You might just wear out those shiny wheels of yours by working so hard! I still can't believe they gave you such nice looking silver trucks too. You should give them to me. They would look so much better under my feet."

"Ha, you wish!" Jack shot back playfully, connecting the coupler with practiced ease. The heavy click of the coupling was a sign of a job well done – it was one of the small victories that he took pleasure in during the repetitive days at the railyard. 

"Maybe I can convince the company to get me some silver trucks. Damn, I bet you get all the babes." Angelus raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Don't wait around too long. Wouldn't want to keep anyone waiting. Oh, that's right. You don't carry passengers! Ehaha!"

"I don't need any pesky passengers to do my job. I do something better. I keep America's life blood pumping with every train I pull. Alright, let's get moving! Those rails won't know what hit them!" Rail Jack smiled as he announced to the freight ais behind him. He heard their collective acknowledgment and so he began to move as soon as the caboose told him all was clear.

The wind was sucked in through his chest's intake vents, cooling his hot radiators as he navigated the switches and turns of the railyard. It was a small pleasure as his long train snaked behind him. But despite what humans would call monotony, he couldn't deny there was a certain satisfaction in having a job to do and doing it well. And so, with every container hitched and freight train delivered, he would feel more and more proud of his work.

Today's train wouldn't go too far and he would be back before evening. Most of the hoppers in the train were being sent to be filled with grains of different types. The familiar rhythm soothed him as he rolled across the Nebraska plains. Clickety-clack went his wheels, a constant beat. He watched the sun climb higher, lighting up the flat land stretching endlessly around. He was built for power and speed but rarely got to test his true speed. Still, he didn't mind too much. The open rail was freedom, in its own way. It was a good life for an engine like him.

He honked at a few of the crossings, startling birds from the telephone wires. He chatted with the freight he pulled as he raced along, their voices crackling over the radio. The miles flew by beneath his wheels and before he knew it, his first stop was coming up ahead. There he helped detach hoppers and picked up filled ones to continue his trip.

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky a fiery orange, and Rail Jack found himself in the company of his fellow engines at their usual gathering spot near the refueling depot. It was there that he could take a moment to appreciate the unique qualities of each train that made up his little community.

Golden Spike, the yardmaster in training, was a force to be reckoned with. His blond hair and gleaming golds where the usual engines had yellow was easily recognizable among the others, and his road number "6900" embroidered on either side of his vest's collar gleamed in the fading sunlight. He had an air of authority about him, but beneath that tough exterior was a genuine heart. All he ever wanted was for this yard to be the most successful and to prevent anyone he loved from being decommissioned because of poor performance.

"Rail Jack, remember to keep your brakes well-adjusted, we pull the heaviest trains. A heavy train might make it easy to go downhill but that is also quite dangerous. It can quickly spiral out of control." he advised the red-haired engine as he rolled past, his deep voice was pleasant on the ears. Jack nodded in appreciation – Golden Spike always had a wealth of knowledge to share despite his 2 year service life so far. It seemed that Golden Spike had taken in every bit of advice he heard uttered by other engines.

"Will do, Golden Spike. Thank you, sir!" Jack replied, taking his advice to heart. After all, Golden Spike had been around the tracks longer than he had. He trusted an engine of his own kind more than others.

Then there was Angelus, the sleek and speedy passenger diesel engine. His shiny yellow and silver paint job reflected the last remnants of daylight, giving him a radiant glow. Angelus was known for his confidence and bravado, often boasting about the important passengers he carried on his famous route, "The City of Los Angeles."

"Hey, slowpoke!" Angelus teased, despite knowing that the centennials were quite fast for freight engines. Their speeds exceeded the usual 60 miles that the previous hot shots of the freight world held. The Centennials demonstrated impressive handling upwards of 90 miles on the track while hauling mile long trains of tonnage. "I bet you wish you could be as fast as me, huh? But'cha aren't!"

"Maybe one day, Angelus," Rail Jack chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully, "but for now, I'll stick with hauling freight. It's what I was built for and what I'm best at. Who knows, maybe I'll get to pull some passengers... some day."

"Freight doesn't need more speed than we've got. As long as it gets there in one piece then the humans are happy and if they're happy- I am as well." Golden Spike crossed his arms over his chest where he sat and closed his eyes. He rarely had time to properly rest and seemed to take solace in whatever short few minutes he had of peace.

Lastly, there was Gear Shift, a small, black switcher engine. Her infectious optimism and eagerness to help brought a smile to everyone's face, even during the toughest days. However, this same bubbly personality seemed to wear Golden Spike down. She was too much all of the time. But she and Rail Jack had become fast friends since they had arrived at the railyard around the same time. Despite that, Rail Jack was received with much more enthusiasm than the small diesel. 

"Hey, Jack!" Gear Shift called out as she scurried over to Jack's side.

Jack leaned over and hugged the small, drab diesel. "Gearie! It's nice to see you. Did you already top up your tank?"

"Sure have!" Gear Shift grinned, her engine humming happily. "So, how's your day been?"

"Same as always, Gear," Jack replied with a sigh. "But I can't complain. There's something comforting about knowing what to expect each day. It isn't like your day and be disappointing if you know you'll pull a nice heavy train."

"True, true," she agreed, nodding her head thoughtfully.  "That does make things a little more bearable. You don't believe how crabby some of the switchters are. Especially those steam engines."

Golden Spike frowned and opened one of his eyes. The diesel-yellow headlight beamed down on Gear Shift as she smiled up at him with her blue eyes. "That's because us diesels are better. Soon enough all those coal crunchers will be good for is to steam the newly retired dining car's dumplings during the moon festival season. We should open the Canteen..It has been closed for so long. a good source of income for our yard. I will suggest it to the yardmaster."

"Maybe they wouldn't be so mad if we didn't tell them we were better all the time?" She shrugged with a smile.

"Not a chance. They know it full well. The old steamer in charge of this place never had the yard working this efficiently. Ever since I've been assigned Yardmaster In-training, things have been better." A rare smile flashed on Golden Spike's face.  "That should be enough of a change for them to feel ashamed. The company has had nothing but praise for all of us!"

"So, Jack?" Angelus chimed in as he moved as if stretching his legs and then flexed his arms. He rolled his feet back and forth in place. "Race you to the end of the yard?"

"Angelus, won't that keep some of the old-timers up? I think they're asleep." Jack said gently, but a part of him couldn't resist the thrill of the challenge. He was too new to not want to show off.

"Come on, Jack!" Angelus encouraged, grinning mischievously. "You know you want to~! I just look so good from behind, you can't resist."

"Fine," Jack conceded, the spirit of competitiveness surging through his two prime movers. "But just a short one. End of the yard and back here- and you'll be the one looking at my back."

"Deal!" Angelus agreed, and with that, the two diesels were off revving as they disappeared into the darkness.

Golden Spike sighed, letting his spitter valves hiss, "Angelus never asks me to race..."

Gear Shift giggled, "Maybe he will next time!"

Golden then smirked, "Or he just knows I will win. Hah."

As the two engines raced down the tracks, they honked to get others out of their way. They enjoyed the exhilarating sensation of speed and feeling the wind whip past them like a thousand invisible fingers. One thing was certain, those traction motors on the centennials were something else as Jack quickly pulled in front of Angelus during this quick short race.

As they returned to the small meeting place, They could see the glowing headlights of Gear Shift and Golden Spike watching them.

"Wow, Jack!" Gear Shift exclaimed when the two larger diesels finally slowed to a stop, motors whirring from the effort. "You really picked up some speed back there! I don't think I ever saw you move that fast!"

"Must be all that practice," Rail Jack grinned, "Its easier to run when there's not a million tons behind you!" He turned to Golden Spike, expecting a reprimand for their little escapade, but instead found a smile on his face.

"Alright, you two," Golden Spike chuckled, "I want you all to get some rest. Tomorrow's another day, and who knows what it might bring."

"Will do, boss!" Gear Shift and Rail Jack chimed in unison, already eager for the next day's work.

Golden Spike turned his eyes to the passenger diesel, "Angelus?"

"Right! Just had my mind on something else." Angelus said as quietly as he could.

"Well those coaches won't like it if you don't get your rest. You need a proper rest to clean up your files and keep your mental health at its tip top shape. Remember that. An engine who doesn't rest will have problems with even simple tasks." Golden Spike said as he looked down to his feet. It sounded like he had experienced that first hand. He rolled one foot back and forth on the dirt making a groove. After some idling, he stood up and looked toward the direction of the engine sheds, "Come on then. Let's go."

The four diesels then walked to their individual sheds to tuck in for the night. Telling each other some rolling stock goodnight wishes. Rail Jack and Golden Spike were the last to separate, their sheds were near each other's where the other DDA40X's rested. "Keep up the good work, Golden. The humans really seem to love you."

"You too, Jack." Golden hugged his fellow engine and patted him on the back, "You shine among the others and really set yourself apart with the power you bring to the rail. I'm proud to be the same kind of engine as you."

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