Our tale begins in the Year 1886, in the state of Cacerola, named for its resemblance to a cooking pan thanks to an old border dispute, in a railway station known as Potbelly.
"All aboard!" the conductor announced as his train pulled into the station and his engine hissed with a plume of steam.
As soon as the doors opened, a flood of people swarmed into the passenger car, including a small battalion of freshly recruited Union Rangers who had a car set aside just for them. This wasn't an ordinary scheduled train ride, for these Rangers are making a historic journey to the infamous Fort Tuskegee. As part of an effort by Major General Odysseus Grant to integrate the Rangers, these new recruits were to be absorbed by the Buffalo Soldiers, the Union's only Ranger branch consisting solely of ex slave-folk. While they would prefer to be referred to as "freedmen", but most people in the Union called them "Rough-heads".
Train robberies were not uncommon in these parts. So, trains usually came staffed with Rangers assigned to guard the trains from any potential threats. Dutifully going from passenger to passenger, checking tickets with a smile on his face, was Private Dwayne D. Eisenhammer.
Now Dwayne wasn't exactly an example of an ideal Ranger. He wasn't tall, he was quite lanky, and he had a shiny bald head, despite only being twenty-two. He performed mediocrely on his physical tests, barely scraping enough points to pass. And he purposefully got many questions on his IQ test wrong, so he wouldn't be burdened with positions of responsibility. To Dwayne, getting assigned guard duty for the trains was the ideal job for him. Military trains were marked as such, and were usually accompanied by heavily armed guards. You'd have to be an idiot with a death wish to try and rob one of these, or so Dwayne believed, anyway. All he had to do was relax, patrol the cars, and enjoy the view as he traveled the country through railroad, all while collecting a steady income.
Today's journey was especially exciting to him. He might not be among the recruits joining the Buffalo Soldiers, but he could still travel to Fort Tuskegee and witness this historic moment firsthand.
"Maybe I can find myself a nice Freedmen girl." Dwayne thought to himself with flared nostrils.
Dwayne's perverted daydream was soon to be cut short. As he was staring out a window, imagining himself undressing his future wife, he heard the sound of a loud crash followed by screaming coming from the cargo hold.
Dwayne looked around to the other assigned guards to see if they noticed the sound, but they all were either mingling with the passengers or napping on their feet, a skill most Rangers learned early on. Either way, Dwayne seemed to be the only one to hear the noise.
"it's probably nothing." He thought as he pulled his revolver out of his holster. He debated asking one of the other Rangers to back him up, but he already had a reputation for being scared of his own shadow, and didn't want to fuel that image. With a deep breath, Dwayne made his way to the cargo hold.
As he approached, he could hear the sound of someone groaning. The hairs on the back of his neck immediately stood on end and he clutched his revolver shakily. Dwayne has heard many tales of cryptids that mimic the sound of groaning humans to lure their prey in. It was at this moment he was sorely regretting not asking for backup, but he steeled himself and pressed on.
As he approached the car, checking all his corners and using every ounce of his Ranger training, the moaning was getting louder. With one more deep breath from Dwayne, he stormed in and aimed his gun at the general direction of the sound.
Luckily for him, it wasn't a cryptid, or a robber for that matter. In front of him was a scrawny looking young man lying dazed on the ground. He was wearing nothing but tattered overalls and covered in dirt and grime. His skin was tan and leathered and his hair bleached from the sun. Freckles littered his face, along with what seemed to be a singular star tattoo on his cheek. Cracked on the ground next to him, was a crate of chocolate rations that was slated to be delivered to Fort Tuskegee that seemed to be the source of the loud crash. Several empty wrappers lied scattered on the ground and with a smearing of chocolate on the boy's lips, Dwayne was able to put together what happened here rather easily.
"Hands up." Dwayne said as he pointed his revolver at the boy. Trying to muster up as much authority as he could feign.
"Yowch. That sure hurted." the boy said as he rubbed his head tenderly before looking down the barrel of Dwayne's gun. "Oh, howdy!" he said casually. The boy spoke in a strong country accent, and when he spoke, his mouth revealed a missing front tooth and another that was yellower than gold. Everything about this boy screamed uneducated and lower class to Dwayne.
"Who are you." Dwayne asked sternly, shoving his gun closer to the boy's face.
"Who me? The name's Deacon Wynter, and you?" He said it so casually, completely ignoring the loaded gun he had staring him in the face.
"Private Dwayne D. Eisenhammer, Union Rangers." Dwayne announced. The gun in his hands starting to feed his confidence.
"Nice to meet ya Dwayne." Deacon said cheerfully with a wide toothy grin.
"Well Deacon, do you know where you are right now?" Dwayne asked.
"Yep. I'm inside a Steamrail model three." Deacon answered. Naming the exact make and model of the train they were on.
"You mean you're trespassing on a Steamrail model three." Dwayne mocked. Starting to lose his patience.
"Oh right. Sorry about that. I gotta get to Stillwater and I didn't have any money for the train."
"Are you serious?" Dwayne asked. "First of all, trespassing is a crime. Secondly this train isn't heading to Stillwater, It's going to Fort Tuskegee. And third, that chocolate you've been eating is military rations, which means you stole them."
"Fort Tuskegee?" Deacon asked confusedly as he pulled his map out and started scanning it. Dwayne noticing it was upside down.
"Seriously what's with this kid?" Dwayne thought to himself. "Can't you read a simple train schedule?"
"oh, I can't read." Deacon answered plainly.
"Of course you can't." Dwayne snapped. "You're under arrest for trespassing and stealing. Give me your hands." Dwayne pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
"Aww man." Deacon complained as he raised his wrists and let Dwayne bind him.
"Welp, there goes my relaxing train ride." Dwayne sighed. Lamenting the fact that he now had to babysit this dimwit. "I did make my first arrest though! Wait until the others see this. Maybe I'll be hailed a hero." He thought as he imagined this triumph being so popular it overshadows the upcoming integration. Girls throwing themselves on him and his superiors and colleagues showering him with praise. His daydream was cut short by the sound of Deacon unwrapping another chocolate ration and shoving it in his face.
"Hey!" Dwayne scolded as he snatched it away. "Seriously?"
"What? I'm already in trouble." Deacon pouted.