Argyle knew he was in for a rather unusual day when he received a call from the harbourmaster. He had just gotten home and had gone to the top level of the lighthouse to look out over the sea, as was his custom, when his mobile began beeping.
"Hello? This is Argyle Starshine."
"Ah! Argyle! Glad you picked up, me lad." The harbourmaster was a veteran sailor through and through. "Your daughter and her friends, they run all that railway stuff, right?"
"That's correct. I assume there's something important going on."
"Correct. As you probably know, Falmouth used to be a terminal for large ocean liners, but most call at Penzance these days. However, I got some bad news regarding the weather."
Argyle looked out to sea. "I can see a storm out there somewhere."
"Well, a liner was damaged in the storm and can't get to Penzance. It's being towed into Falmouth, and the passengers need to be taken to Truro. This is where you come in. According to GWR, they can't get one of their IETs down to Falmouth due to gauging issues, so you'll need to assemble a train and get those passengers up there."
Argyle sighed. "I'll ask if that's at all possible."
"Good work, lad! The town is relying on you."
"How many coaches did you say?" Hitch asked.
"The liner company specified ten," Argyle told the young man. "That liner has a lot of passengers onboard, and not only that is arriving tomorrow morning. We haven't got long."
"Why not double head with Charles and Sophie?" Pipp suggested. "According to the books I read, British Rail used to pair them on most passenger work."
"The visitors specifically want a steam engine, which means Rebecca. I know she's unreliable, but she's also the most powerful steam engine we've got." Argyle leaned in over the table. "I know this isn't ideal, but we have to try. Railway history is full of heroic exploits like this, and those passengers do need to get to London."
Hitch nodded. "We'll try."
The next morning, work began on putting the train together. Salty, normally used for assembling freight, was working on putting together the rear section of the train.
"I think we've hit a slight snag!" he said to Sunny.
"And that is?" Sunny asked. "Apart from this fog."
"The train, when fully assembled, will be too long to fit in the platform. That can take five coaches maximum, and not all of our coaches are even the same length."
Sunny nodded. "That would mean the train would need to be put together after being loaded and then set off up the line. It will almost certainly need banking."
At the other end, Porter had been put into service putting the front end together. "Is this train even safe to operate?" he asked. "It appears to be a mixture of several different eras of coach, with some wooden bodied items!"
"We have to do the best with what we have," Izzy replied, as they moved the first few coaches into the second platform. "I'll be bringing my lucky bracelet just in case. It's got us out of other jinxie situations in the past."
Suddenly, there was a loud bang as they hit the buffers. Luckily, the coaches stayed on the rails, but there was some minor cracking to a window.
"Porter, you blithering idiot!"
At the top end of the line, Bellerophon had been put on duty as a rescue engine, or to use the modern term a 'Thunderbird'. The fog continued to drift lazily in over the Cornish hills as some freight arrived. "I'm not sure I like this weather," he said. "I can barely see."
There was no reply from the footplate.
"Misty?"
"I have no idea why they're being so nice to me," Misty said quietly. "Especially after what I did to them."
"Misty, Opaline was manipulating us!" Bellerophon replied. "She'd dangled our greatest desires in front of our eyes and used them as a bargaining chip. I think they can see that."
"It doesn't change the fact I stole from them," Misty sighed. "I can only hope I can regain their trust."
"The liner's just arrived!" a voice called. "Go to standby!"
The preparations for standby required Bellerophon to be moved to the bay platform to await the oncoming train. Once the move was complete, all fell quiet.
"Now," Bellerophon said. "We wait."
The Duchess had just finished her docking procedure at Falmouth harbour, and the passengers were streaming off the liner towards their train.
"Please proceed in an orderly manner to the station," Sunny told them over a megaphone. "Passengers with surnames beginning with the letters A to M proceed to platform 1. Plassengers with surnames beginning with the letters N to Z proceed to platform 2."
She glanced over to Goldie. "Here's hoping this doesn't all break down."
The passengers made it to the station, and were quite surprised. "Nobody told us we were going on a preserved railway!" said one.
"Toy engines! What a joke!" said another.
Porter, who had been allocated to bank the heavy train out of the station, looked over. "Do you want to get to Truro or not?"
Izzy was trying to read the sky as best she could. "This fog doesn't bode well," she said. "A great fog descended over Heywood once, and made getting around very difficult."
"Didn't the AWS also stop working?" Porter asked.
"Yes. Still, could be worse."
Hitch had just finished backing Rebecca onto the coaches, and was now waiting for the passengers to board. "I'm concerned," he admitted.
"The run ahead worrying you?" Rebecca asked. "To be honest, I think all will be fine."
"This load is considerably heavier than anything we've historically tested you with," Hitch countered. "If we stall on the hill we're in a right mess."
"Well, try not to stall then."
At last, boarding was complete, and Hitch gently eased Rebecca forward until the rear of the fifth coach was in front of the points. Rebecca whistled twice to alert the signalman to her current location, and once the points were reset she backed onto the coaches and prepared for departure.
The guard blew his whistle and waved his green flag. Rebecca whistled. "Ready!"
Porter whistled back. "Ready!"
With a great snorting of steam and twin percussive blasts from the cylinders, the massive train got underway. Porter's march harsher exhaust contrasted greatly with Rebecca's much softer exhaust, and the mixture of two and three cylinder beats produced an odd hypnotic effect.
They continued to climb through the valleys and up the hills, with the fog continuing to be a constant adversary. Speeds weren't especially high, so the work was pretty hard, but both engines kept on going.
Pipp and her followers had turned out at Penrhyn to see the train through. She set her camera running. "Here comes the special, Pippsqueaks! Cheer that train on!"
"PIPP PIPP HOORAY!" called her assembled online audience as the massive formation stormed through the station and charged the bank out of the station.
"Keep it up!" Hitch called, over the wind and rain.
"Keep it up?" Izzy replied over the radio. "Porter's going fine here!"
"I could take on the world!" Porter added, as they crested the next summit and ran over the slope. They flew down another hill and through Perranwell, before tackling the final climb to Truro.
Unfortunately, things soon went wrong. Rebecca's wheels began to slip violently.
"What's going on up there?" Porter called.
"Black ice!" Hitch called. "I'll have to shut off steam!"
With a series of rolls and groans, the train began to slow down, before grinding to a halt at the foot of the tunnel.
"Can we restart the train?" Izzy asked.
"No," Hitch replied over the radio. "If we stall in that tunnel, we risk flooding the coaches with carbon monoxide."
"That would be bad," Izzy replied, understating it somewhat.
"Why not call the others?" Rebecca suggested.
The station telegraph at Truro buzzed, and the station master ran out to Bellerophon. "The special's failed!" he called. "The rescue engine is needed. Thunderbirds are go!"
"Us?" Misty said, sounding somewhat shaky.
"We've been through tougher scrapes than this," Bellerophon encouraged her. "You can do this, I know it."
Misty nodded, and released the engine's brakes. With a wheesh of steam, Bellerophon set off for the breakdown site. When they arrived, they saw Charles and Salty being added to the back of the formation.
"I'm glad you're here, buddy!" Rebecca said. "We're in a bit of a pickle, as you can see, so can you help us?"
"We'll try," Misty said, as she rolled Bellerophon to a stop at Rebecca's buffers. Hooking up was complete seconds later, and back on the footplate she blasted the whistle.
Rebecca answered, followed by a whistle and two horn blasts from the diesels.
"Let's go!" Rebecca called, and dug into the rails. Bellerophon led the way, guiding the train into the tunnel.
"Heave ho, haul together!" Salty called. "Hoist the colours high!"
Charles cheered as his engine went to maximum revs. "POWER!"
With this incredible display of engine power, the train soon arrived at Truro, where a train from the mainline was waiting to take the passengers home to London. "Cracked out the museum pieces, have we?" he said. "Never mind. You got the passengers home, and that's what counts."
The passengers crossed the footbridge to the other platform whilst the drivers got to conversing amongst themselves. "That was an incredible display, guys," Hitch said. "Thanks for coming to the rescue. Being stuck would suck."
"That's what friends are for," Sunny replied. "As Salty put it, we need to pull together sometimes to achieve great things."
"And a special mention to Misty," Izzy said. "She and Bellerophon were doing the work of three engines based on much noise they were making! I'll organise a special sleepover in her honour!"
"Why not use our house?" Zipp suggested. "There's more space and we can spread out more easily."
Misty beamed with pride. Far from being one of the outcasts and a spy for an enemy power, it seemed as though she truly had friends at last.