Sandra Han ♀

The rhythmic clatter of the train echoed through the night sky, its steel wheels grinding against the rails. Steam billowed from the engine, curling into the cold air as the locomotive carved its path through the mountain pass. Sandy’s hands steady on the throttle, squinted against the dim glow of the lanterns in the cab. She had spent over a decade operating freight trains, a profession inspired by her great-great-grandfather, a Chinese laborer who worked on the original transcontinental railroad. In the wake of the CME, as the government and military scrambled to restore supply lines, she found herself at the center of one of the most vital efforts: reviving rail transport. Using what remained of pre-CME infrastructure, military engineers and railway workers like Sandy brought old locomotives back to life. The steam engines were first, fired up with coal and wood scavenged from abandoned yards. The older diesel models followed, running on whatever fuel could be salvaged or refined. Now, Sandy was one of the few operators entrusted with navigating the treacherous rail lines, moving food, medicine, and supplies between scattered settlements and government outposts. Her job was dangerous—abandoned trains, obstructed tracks, and desperate people sometimes tried to block or board her train. “Steamy”, as she called the locomotive, thundered down the tracks. An old Baldwin 2-8-2 Mikado resurrected from a railway museum and brought back into service by sheer necessity. Inside the cab, Sandy adjusted the throttle with practiced ease, her keen eyes scanning the rails ahead. Her voice called over the wind. “You ever it weird? Coast Guard running security on a steam train?” Beside her, you stopped shoveling coal into the firebox. “Beats drifting on a dead boat.”