Troublesome Trucks

Arc 18 Reincarnation

In my dreams there was a much different scenario than last time. Now I was a God among all other beings. The world was my play thing, and the people, my toys. I told them orders and they did so willingly, without hesitation. The engines acted as personal movers for us trucks. The humans were the ones in shackles, and they listened to us, listened to me. I was the epicenter, the focal point, the absolute. Invincible, unstoppable. It felt nice...

Opening my eyes, I found myself back in a familiar looking works shed. Only this time there were many more trucks, all of which were at Callan the night of the fire. We'd been sent to be repainted. 

"Hey, George!" I heard a voice call. Off to my right I saw a familiar maroon shape. "Louis!" He had a few broken planks and a few dings in his frames but other than that, he was the same old Louis.

There were workmen buzzing around so we couldn't speak as openly as we'd wished. 

"I heard you were in that dogpile on the mainline." I started. 

Louis smiled, gleefully. "It was quite something." He said. My face turned grim, "A guard died in that crash"  

Louis chuckled, "Honestly I expected more." I smirked, You sure have changed Louis. 

Our conversation was interrupted by an inspector, but not the one who helped make me. "Better save that chatter for after you lot are organized. We gotta keep one of the births clear for engines." The young looking inspector turned to leave. 

"Just a moment inspector," I called. The inspector looked back, "Would you happen to know where the other inspector is? He's a bit older than you." The young inspector's eyes squinted, then widened. His face fell, 

"Frank took the rest of the week off. His nephew was killed in that accident on the mainline." He glared at Louis, "Of course you wouldn't have known that, would you?" He turned and walked away. Louis and I stared at each other, it was I who spoke first. "By this point, it doesn't matter. We're different species anyway." Louis and I couldn't help but share an awkward laugh. 

"By the way, I've been meaning to ask. What's chess?" I asked. Louis looked at me confused. One of the workmen removing my paint chimed in, "It's a game where two players are given a set of chess pieces. Each piece has specific movements, and the goal is to capture the opponent's king. You checkmate the king, you win." While some of the workmen were on break, they brought out an old chessboard to show it off visually. There were two colors, white and black. Pawns, Rooks, Knights, Bishops, a King and a Queen. The Queen for some reason could move more than the king, which confused me. The men demonstrated a game. They set up traps to lure out other pieces, sacrificed some pieces to reach the opposing king, and had to account for the opponent's movements and find ways to counter them. It was all so very interesting.

If the engines see me as a chess player, then I'll meet them as such. If this railway is my chess board, then I'll be the Black King. With Dan as my queen, and the Jays and trucks as my pawns I'll be quite the player. If I'm to win, I need to capture the king, I need to bring Sir Topham Hatt to his knees.

Unlike last time, when I was ready to be repainted, they gave me a choice of color. The choice was obvious, jet black. The cold paint felt like a new me arising in replacement of the old. Once the paint had dried, I asked to see a mirror. The young inspector obliged, it felt... Right. I had the same square face, pointed nose, and a singular mole on my cheek. Only now, the black paint added a layer of mystery, direction, and power. The Black King, Cometh. Game on Hatt.