Thomas and Friends: More Tales from Sodor

by The Blue EM2

First published

A Magical Land, where Dreams Come True...

There have been many tales to come from the Island of Sodor, most of which have not been told. In this new collection, join me for another journey into the world of Thomas and his friends as we witness new sites and, for the first time, Thomas journey beyond his Island home for a special celebration.

A sequel collection to my earlier Thomas anthologies, these tales are a mixture of TV series stories, Christopher Awdry stories, fan stories, MLP episodes, and my own original material.

Introduction

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJMKuxfkxiY

Hello again, boys and girls. Are you ready for some more tales of Thomas' adventures with his friends? In this first set, Thomas journeys to the National Railway Museum where he gets into scrapes, meets some old friends, and proves to be a very brave engine indeed.

Museum Piece

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"I don't believe it!" Gordon fumed. "What's he got that none of the rest of us have, eh? Why does he get to go to the National Railway Museum and I don't? Why, being a unique locomotive myself, I am worthy of visiting such a place especially since several of my cousins are resident there."

"Well, he is over one hundred years old," said James, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "If Sir Toppham Hatt says he can be a museum piece, it's none of our business."

"It's still not fair," Henry grumbled. "We all work as hard as he does, and he's the only one who gets any recognition from the press. Did you see how heavily he's being used in the marketing for the North Western? People'd think he was the only engine on this island!"

The engines ignored Thomas when they saw him going about his day. Thomas, on the other hand, just ignored them. He had more important things to do than worry about what a bunch of haughty express engines thought.

"Why me?" he asked, one morning, as Twilight was getting him ready for service. "Fancy the National Railway Museum in York wanting me to visit again, after we all went there for the children."

"Well, technically we didn't all go," Twilight replied, completing her checks and oiling Thomas round. "That was before engines like Donald and Douglas arrived, and even Oliver or Stepney. Did you know one of his brothers lives at York?"

"And a fellow LBSC engine, no doubt," Thomas replied. "Oh well. Why me specifically, I wonder?"

"Because you're the number one engine?" Percy suggested, as he moved off into the yard to shunt some trucks.

"Because people will see you on television and read stories about you on the internet and then you'll go 2D and start bouncing and-"

"Whatever is she talking about?" asked Toby. "I'm a three dimensional object last I checked, and besides, why would that be of any concern to us? We're not on the internet!"

"Sometimes, Pinkie is just Pinkie," Flash sighed. "Come on Toby. We'll have plenty of work to do whilst Thomas is away at York!"

"When are we going again?" Thomas asked. "I've forgotten."

"Some point later this week," Twilight replied. "Sir Toppham Hatt is yet to secure a pathing slot with Network Rail, as we'll need a diesel to tow us as far as Carnforth. From there, we can work under our own power, though we'll need to go the long way round via Skipton and Keighley. Remember, that's where Jinty lives!"

"I remember!" Thomas said. "Who do you think will be at the Museum today? Will Flying Scotsman be around, or City of Truro?"

"I don't actually know, Thomas," Twilight replied. "I'd suggest we stay calm and wait when we get there. At least a Terrier will be able to keep you company whilst we stay at York."

Thomas smiled. He knew the big engines were jealous they weren't the ones going to York, but he was still a little surprised as to why a dock shunter like himself was wanted for their event.

At long last the big day arrived, and everybody gathered at Vicarstown to see Thomas off. Even Sir Toppham Hatt was there to wish Thomas the best of luck. "Goodbye, Thomas!" he said. "Enjoy yourself at York, and make sure to be a credit to our railway! And remember the three Rs!"

"Reading, writing, arithmetic?" Twilight aked. "That's really one 'r', an 'a', and a 'w'."

"Ready, Reliable, and Really Useful!" Sir Toppham Hatt replied. "Cheerio!"

Everybody gave three cheers or sounded their whistle, and Thomas was soon on his way. He puffed across the bridge and pulled up at a siding in Barrow. In order for a train to operate over the Cumbrian Coast route, it must be fitted with a cab based signalling system called GSM-R. Gordon was the only steam engine on the North Western fitted with such a feature, and as such Thomas couldn't run under his own power. Instead, a diesel from a company called DB Cargo coupled up to him, and towed him and his coach as far as Carnforth, where the Cumbrian Coast route met the West Coast Main Line. Thomas was shunted into Steamtown at Carnforth, where he spent the night with several other engines, including Royal Scot who had visited Sodor many years earlier.

After resting overnight, Thomas could at last run under his own power. He puffed up the line proudly, with people turning out at the lineside to cheer him on his way. At Skipton, he paused to take on water (his tanks were low), and waited to let a freight train from Swinden Quarry access the main line. It was long and heavy, pulled by a big red diesel with a grumpy face. Once they had passed, he continued on his way. As he set off, it began to rain. It rained and it rained and it rained. Thomas was making as best the time he could, but little did he know danger was just ahead.

Just up the line towards Keighley, the railway met a level crossing. The signal box here had been closed years ago, and the crossing barriers and signals were controlled from a centre in Leeds. The signaller in Leeds, seeing the train approaching, set the signals to clear and gave the barriers the order to drop.

But there was something wrong. The remote signaller wouldn't know, but the bolts on one of the crossing barrier arms have way, and the arm toppled onto the track!

Thomas had no clue he was steaming towards danger. The signal showed clear, and he felt happy. "Just a typical Yorkshire day, this!" he said to Twilight.

"Sure is," she replied. "Lots of rain and cold weather. I'm glad I packed a raincoat!"

They rounded a bend, and sure enough there was the level crossing, and the barrier was lying across the track! "BRAKES, QUICKLY!" Thomas called.

Twilight slammed the brakes on, but the wet rails caused Thomas to slip and slide. He collided with the arm and the force of the impact caused him to topple onto one side, blocking both running lines.

Twilight ran to a railway telephone and contacted the signalling centre to tell them of the accident. The line was closed off, causing untold chaos across the north of England (also known as a normal day on Northern Rail). A breakdown train was dispatched, and Thomas was soon lifted off his side and back onto the track.

"Hmmm," said the inspector. "You can't go on like that, Thomas. It's not safe."

"How will I get to York then?" Thomas asked. "I'm supposed to be there tomorrow!"

"I think that's the least of our worries right now!" Twilight snapped.

"I know," the inspector sighed. "But I'll arrange something, don't you worry." And he walked away, mobile in hand, as Thomas sat there, looking glum.

Not the Ticket

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Thomas was forced to stay on a siding for the rest of the day. His fire was thrown out by Twilight, who chose to stay and keep him company. He needed it, after all, all things considered. The rain poured down, and the weather grew cloudy and cold. What had started as a splendid day had turned into a complete disaster.

"I wish I was back in my nice warm shed," Thomas said sadly.

"You're not the only one wishing they were someplace warmer," Twilight replied. "It's a shame we didn't make it to Keighley; we could have stayed overnight at Haworth and had a proper rest there. But there are worse things than being stranded on a siding in Staincliffe."

"Where?" Thomas asked.

"Skipton used to be an administrative area called Staincliffe, part of the West Riding. It's now called Craven, which is rather apt as that's what a lot of people think Ted Heath, the man who oversaw the boundary changes, was."

"I thought that was a DMU," Thomas said, confused.

"Craven is an old word for coward. The Cravens Railway Carriage and Wagon Company Limited was a builder of rolling stock, including DMUs in their later years."

"Was Daisy built by them?" Thomas asked, curious.

"No," Twilight replied. "She was built by Pressed Steel."

Not long later after their conversation, the Inspector returned. "Hello Thomas!" he said. "Don't look so glum. I've been on the phone with the Railway Museum, and they've got workshop space to fix the damage you sustained in that accident."

"That's good to hear," Thomas said. "But how will I get there if I can't move under my own power?"

"I've been in contact with the Heavy Lift Towing and Salvage Company. They'll be sending a lorry and driver down tomorrow to collect you and take you to York."

Thomas' jaw dropped, and he would have recoiled in horror if he'd been able to move (which he couldn't). "A l- l- l- l- lorry?!" he exclaimed.

"He's a little surprised," Twilight said. "He doesn't normally beatbox like this."

"That's OK," the Inspector replied. "I imagine it would come as a shock to most people. Being towed is not anybody's first choice. The lorry will arrive at 8 in the morning, tomorrow." He walked away.

Twilight took refuge at Skipton station that night, resting in the workmen's bunkhouse, whilst Thomas sat on a siding, cold, wet, and lonely. Thomas, on the other hand, didn't sleep at all. The rain made it hard to close his eyes, and he was worried about what Gordon, Henry, James, and their drivers would think if they learned he finished his journey on a lorry.

"I'd never hear the end of it," he said miserably, to himself. "This is possibly the worst night of my life."

Anybody who knows Thomas knows his history of hyperbole, but safe to say he was utterly miserable that lonely night.


Morning came at last, and with it came Twilight and a Class 08 painted in Freightliner colours of green and yellow. It pulled Thomas off the siding and moved him to a transfer yard. Ahead of them was a lorry. This lorry was painted black with red and cream lining, and he had a tall cab and protruding bonnet upon which his face sat. He had a large open area on the back in which supplies could be placed, and he was pulling a long flatbed trailer behind him. This had rails mounted to it, which connected onto a loading siding. A giant muscular man dressed in a comically small boilersuit stood alongside the lorry. He had white skin, red eyes, and blonde hair.

"Is everything ready to go, Bulk?" the Inspector asked.

"Yeah!" the man replied. Judging from his voice and his appearance, he appeared to be not that much of a bright spark, raising the question as to why he was working in the lorry business at all. "I'll start the whinch. Are you ready, Nelson?"

"Yes, Mr Biceps!" the lorry, presumably 'Nelson' replied.

Bulk moved a lever, and the whinch engaged with a steel cable that had been attached to Thomas' front coupling. Thomas was pulled onto the flatbed trailer, and was secured down by cables.

"I'm afraid that road regulations prohibit you from riding in the cab of transported cargo," Bulk Biceps told Twilight. "You'll have to travel in the cab with me."

Twilight was reluctant to leave Thomas alone, but saw that she had no choice in the matter. The law was the law, after all, and we must follow it. So, after bidding Thomas goodbye, she went and hopped in Nelson's cab, and off they went.

"So, you're the pair travelling from Sodor, eh?" Nelson asked, as they rolled along.

"Yes," Twilight replied. "How did you know?"

"The National Railway Museum has been advertising the visit of an engine from Sodor for a few weeks now," Bulk replied, as he took a right hand turn. "Perfect. We can cut across to Pontefract here and then proceed straight to York."

"Bulk Biceps and I have worked together for years," Nelson smiled. "I know these roads very well, having rescued many cars and lorries from them."

Thomas had a magnificent view of the English countryside, but soon grew bored. Eventually, they arrived in York and Nelson stopped.

"Why have we stopped?" Twilight asked.

"They've changed the road layout again!" Bulk replied, looking a bit frustrated. "How do they expect motorists to go to the right places if they don't keep the lanes the same? We can't take the old route, so we won't be able to fit through the City. I'll need to get a pilot car to guide us through. Stay here!"

"I can't exactly go anywhere," Thomas replied.

Bulk was gone for a few minutes, but had put a piece of paper in the windshield. Later, a man in a yellow cap walked up to Thomas, wrote something in his notebook, and then put it in the lorry's front wipers.

Nelson knew what it was. "Seriously?" he asked. "Bulk's only 30 seconds over the time!"

"Orders are orders," said the ticket inspector. "If you park for more than your alloted time, you get a ticket."

"Yes, but don't you think 30 seconds is a bit ridiculous?"

The inspector had nothing to say, and walked off. Bulk later got back and looked at the ticket. "Parking vulture," he grumbled, and hopped back in Nelson's cab. After a short drive, they arrived in front of a building that looked like a DIY warehouse, and Thomas was unloaded. Spitfire was there to assist with the operation, and soon the engine was on rails again.

Bulk Biceps and Nelson drove off, and Twilight realised what had happened. "We'll never hear the end of this one!" she said.

Spitfire, on the other hand, couldn't stop laughing. "A steam engine, booked for parking!" she snorted. "I've really heard it all!"

Trouble on the Line

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Thomas was soon hauled into the workshop, where Spitfire checked him over. "Heh, I've had to fix worse," she said coolly.

Thomas was surprised. Her manner seemed to be completely different to when she and Flying Scotsman had visited Sodor. "You don't seem to be shouting as much as usual," he said.

"There's no need in here," Spitfire replied. "We can all hear each other when speaking at normal volumes. Come on people, let's get to work!"

A crew of people helped out with fixing Thomas, and before long he was as good as new. Flying Scotsman was also in the shed, and was keen to speak to Thomas again after so long. "Hello again, Thomas!" he said. "I say, it's good to see you again."

"I'm glad I made it here!" Thomas replied. "I'm happy to help around the yard. What are you in for?"

"I just need some springs changing," Flying Scotsman replied. "I am nearly 90 years old, after all. Having said that, none of us are getting any younger. Evening Star, the youngest steam engine here, will be 60 in a few years time."

"I'm feeling my age a bit," Thomas sighed.

One of the people assigned to help fix Thomas was a girl with light green skin, golden hair and eyebrows. She was usually seen wearing a grey T shirt with a white lightning bolt with three golden stars on it, a black jacket with yellow lines on the arms, a pair of dark grey skin tight pants, and white and turquoise trainers with the same lightning bolt and star motif as her shirt. She seemed quite friendly, so Thomas struck up conversation with her. "Hello," said Thomas. "May I ask your name?"

"Sure!" the girl replied. "I'm Laura Dashel, but I prefer my nickname, Lightning Dust. I've been here a few years now, but I never had the chance to work on an E2 before!"

"That's because I'm the only one left," Thomas replied. "The rest were scrapped in the 1960s, and even then I only survived because of a typo in official paperwork."

"Possibly the luckiest typo in history," Lightning Dust mused, as she adjusted a bolt. "There. That's your buffer fixed. How's it going with the paintwork, Clipper?"

"It's lookin' great, Dusty!" a familiar voice replied. Thomas gasped when he saw Soarin'.

"Soarin'!" he exclaimed. "When do you start working with the National Railway Museum?"

"I'm visiting for the show alongside Harold," Soarin' replied. "I know a thing or two about paint, so I figured I'd help out."

"Why did you call him Clipper?" Thomas asked.

"Oh, we all have nicknames that relate to something embarrassing we've done," Lightning Dust replied. "I sent a huge spray of dust through the workshop once, and Soarin' tripped on a flagpole whilst heading to the canteen, hence 'Clipper'."

Before long, Thomas was fully fixed and out in the demonstration yard. Several other engines were in service, giving rides or cab tours, and Thomas saw an old face in Boxhill, the former Brighton depot shunter. "Hello Thomas!" the Terrier called. "It's a while since I last saw you. We must meet up and chat some time."

"Can't stop and chat!" Thomas called. "I need to head over there!"

"You're the main attraction, Thomas!" Twilight explained. "An engine from Sodor is rarely seen off of Sodor."

"Is that being a credit to Sir Toppham Hatt?" Thomas asked. "I'm quite keen to make up for that parking ticket!"

"Thomas, that wasn't your fault," Twilight soothed. "Besides, we're working the demonstration trains today. We'll be giving passengers rides in an original set of LBSC coaches!"

"Hoorah!" said Thomas. "That will be good."

Lightning Dust was acting as pilot to help them along the demonstration line, which was connected to the rest of the site by Station Hall, an old goods shed that had been turned into a replica of a railway terminus. There were three demonstration lines in use. The first was standard gauge, and the second was for narrow gauge engines (a little brown engine called Bertram was pottering up and down that). The third was called broad gauge, and was being operated by a very big and very old engine called Iron Duke, visiting from a museum in Didcot near London.

Thomas was concerned. There were so many people at the lineside that some were not being as careful as they should have been. Not only that, the museum was not monitoring the crowds properly, and hundreds, if not thousands, of people were jammed in at the lineside. "I don't like the number of people packed in like sardines at the lineside," he told Twilight. "What if a child managed to get onto the line?"

"There are plenty of strong barriers to hold them back," Twilight replied. "And we'll be careful. Besides, people know these machines aren't toys."

Thomas was sweeping the track very carefully for any potential causes of danger, and most of the day went succesfully. Then, on the final run of the day, it happened.

At the lineside, a woman had taken her youngest son right up to the barrier. "Look, Timmy!" she said. "It's the choo choo train!"

Iron Duke rolled his eyes in annoyance. "That'll be the day," he grumbled.

"Err, mum?" shouted another boy. "Get back from the barrier! You're far too close!"

"Nonsense, Richard!" the woman replied. "It's Thomas the Tank Engine! We can't be in any danger."

She was completely wrong. A bag snapped off a support column, and flew onto the demonstration line!

"Obstruction ahead! Full emergency stop!" Lightning Dust shouted.

Twilight slammed on the brakes, and the train skidded along the line.

"I must stop! I MUST STOP!" Thomas said, and crashed into the bag, finally stopping. Mountains of sandwiches and bags of crisps flew everywhere, as well as several bottles of pop. They exploded on Thomas' bufferbeam, making him look very silly. He looked over, and a great jet of steam blasted from his cylinder cocks- right over the mother and the child.

The child didn't take it very well. "I wan't to go home, mummy, now!" he screeched.

"You noisy great engine!" the mother thundered. "Wait until I speak to the manager about this!"

Lightning Dust had gotten down from the footplate to clean the mess, and looked back. "Steam engines are noisy, and we had to stop. That involves making noise. Besides, the CCTV footage will show you were standing where you shouldn't have been!"

"Are you arguing with me?" the mother replied. "How dare you raise your voice at a customer! We'll be going home after this!"

"Be thankful you're going home in a car and not a coffin," Lightning Dust replied coldly, as the woman walked off. She glanced back to Twilight. "Honestly, the public can be so idiotic sometimes. Steam engines can be dangerous? You don't say!"

The boy called Richard walked over to Thomas. "Sorry about my mum," he said. "She behaves like that when she knows she's in the wrong. Yes, she couldn't have foreseen that accident, but she shouldn't have gotten so close. Steam engines aren't toys, after all."

"Indeed," Twilight replied. "Even the smallest of narrow gauge locos usually weigh upwards of 30 tons and will put you in A and E if they hit you- if you're lucky."

"And you did a great job stopping, Thomas," Richard continued. "Good thing it was only somebody's lunch."

"You've damaged your brakes, Thomas," said Lightning Dust. "We'll need to get those fixed at the works. Let's hope people have learned engines can't stop at once."

Thomas hoped they had.

Hero of the Rails, Part 1

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It was a glorious English summer in Yorkshire and neighbouring counties which are often confused for Yorkshire. The National Railway Museum fleet was out at work, being used both at the museum itself and out on the mainline on charter trains, running to Scarborough, Whitby, Darlington, Carlisle, and untold numbers of other varied destinations. Thomas was being used as well for the 'short trips', usually a quick dash up the mainline to Northallerton or somewhere similar before returning to York. Such running was made possible by the marvel that was the Auto-Set, with the museum's LBSCR rake being suitably fitted.

Thomas was conducting one such run one afternoon. It was, as I have said, a lovely day. Thomas had paused at Thirsk, where a water lorry was filling his tanks, when he suddenly heard a chime whistle in the distance. "What's that?" he asked.

"I don't think that's Mallard," Twilight replied. "I thought he was on rest duty today!"

Suddenly, a silver streak shot past them on the Down Fast, going incredibly fast.

"Fizzling fireboxes!" Thomas exclaimed. "What was that?"

"A train passing at speeds far faster than steam engines are permitted to operate on the main line," Twilight replied, as she switched off the standpipe. "We need to get going back to the Museum."

All throughout the day, the other engines of the Museum encountered the mysterious speeding train. Bahamas, an LMS Jubilee visiting from the Keighley and Worth Valley Railway, was rather cross when the train shot by. "Oi! Slow down!" he shouted. "You'll cause an accident going that fast!"

Further down the line, Boxhill was shunting in a yard when the train flew by him, causing him to collide with some wagons. "Ouch!" he exclaimed. "Why is that train in such a rush?"

The train roared past Churchward, a GWR Mogul, as he was out on his test run. "Watch the paintwork!" he shouted. "I've just had this done!"

Much closer to York, Emily, the sole surviving Stirling Single, was setting out on a light passenger working to Doncaster when she saw the mystery train, again shooting past at far too high a speed. The shock caused her brakes to apply, and she skidded to a halt. "Oof!" she said. "That wasn't much fun!"

City of Truro and Flying Scotsman encountered the mysterious train as well. Both of them had their own things to say about them, although Spitfire expressed confusion as to why Scotsman used the expression 'rail raider'.


Later on, at the museum, the engines had gathered to discuss the matter. Thomas recognised several of the drivers, such as Fancy Pants and Spitfire, as well as a girl with white skin and bright yellow hair called 'Surprise', but there were a few he didn't recognise. Bahamas, for instance, was being driven by a girl with yellowy skin and two tone blue hair, with green eyes thrown into the mix, not to mention dressed in the NRM's standard issue electric blue boilersuit. Boxhill, on the other hand, was being operated by a girl with white skin, dark blue hair, and also dressed in a boilersuit. Emily, however, was operated by somebody else entirely. Her driver had pale pink skin and darker pink hair, combined with harsh purple eyes and a purpetual scowl. She wore an outfit that reminded Twilight of the uniform that the drivers of the Culdee Fell Railway wore (which included a girl who looked just like her).

"Well, first off, who was that train?" asked the yellow skinned girl, called Misty Fly (aka Mary Fay). "They broke several rules whilst running at that speed."

"He was big," Churchward offered.

"Not a particularly helpful description," said the pink girl, Fleur de Lis (or at least that was her nickname). "Most of the engines in this yard are big."

"He was painted silver, if that at all helps," Flying Scotsman offered. "It reminded me of something I saw many years ago, when I was a much younger engine."

"Wait, I think Scotsman's getting at something," Spitfire mused. "Painted silver, fast running."

"He certainly was fast!" said Bahamas. "He looked like he was about to tear off the track!"

"Could it be?" asked Boxhill. "I have heard rumours about it, but this would suggest that-"

Suddenly, the chime whistle echoed on the edge of the yard, and a large silver engine backed into the shed, propelling a pair of vintage red coaches which looked LMS in design. He was long, and streamlined, and had the number 2509 painted on his cabside. His nameplate read Silver Link.

"Silver Link?" asked City of Truro. "I thought that engine was scrapped!"

"The original was," said a haughty voice, as a door on the carriage opened and a woman got out. The woman in question looked to be in her fourties, and had a rather odd looking face that had clearly seen far too much plastic surgery for its own good. She had pink skin, blue eyes, purple hair and eyebrows, and wore golden heels, a blue dress, and a golden necklace around her neck. Her entire appearance screamed 'look at me, I'm wealthy'. "This was a replica I had built with the considerable fortune my husband and I have built. Only the best for those at the top, after all."

"And, being Miss Sophie Roberts' private engine comes with so many perks," Silver Link said snottily. "I can go all over the place and not have to worry about a thing, you see."

Twilight thought for a moment. The name sounded awfully familiar.

"Nothing but the best for her ladyship!" said another voice, as a man with purple skin, white hair, and light blue eyes climbed down Silver Link's cab steps. He was wearing a driver's uniform. "I am Randolph the engine driver. Unlike her husband, there is no reason her ladyship should get on the footplate and get herself dirty."

Twilight suddenly made the connection. "Ma'am," she asked, "do you know a Ford Roberts who drives a Class 28 and has a daughter called Danielle?"

The lady snorted. "Of course I do! They are my husband and daughter respectively. Both of them rather forget their station and do dirty work."

"Why are you here?" asked the white skinned girl, High Winds.

"Why, we're having a new summer retreat being built near Shildon, and need a place to stable our private train whilst work is ongoing," the lady said, as she climbed back into the coach. "Now, hurry along Silver Link! I have to be at the opera in an hour!"

"Right away!" called Silver Link, and he puffed out of the yard.

Thomas looked over. "I bet she's spoiled rich," he said.

"That's what we'll call her," Flying Scotsman said. "I don't like the look of that engine either. There's something... snooty about him."

"You said you know her husband, right?" asked Misty Fly. "What's he like?"

"He's pretty normal," Twilight replied. "I just wonder how he ended up marrying that."


Later that day, Thomas and Boxhill were on the line to Scarborough. The engines of the NRM were frequently loaned out to do various other bits of work, and they were moving some bits and pieces to the seaside town.

"That engine really is a nightmare," Thomas complained.

"Tell me about it," Boxhill sighed. "He's so rude!"

"I just hope the others are getting on better," Thomas replied.

Sadly, they weren't. Whenever Silver Link encountered one of the other engines, he insulted them and their crews. That night, the engines called an indigestion meeting.

"He said I was too old to be useful!" Boxhill complained.

"I can back him up on that," High Winds said. "I was there."

"He was constantly running up the rear of my train," Flying Scotsman grumbled. "He was staying in his block, mind, but I had to constantly keep an eye on what he was doing."

"That coat of silver paint looks silly," Churchward huffed. "Swindon green is the only proper colour for an engine!"

"What about Doncaster green?" Flying Scotsman asked.

"He's also very rude," City of Truro grumbled.

"Hear hear!" said Fancy Pants. "He called Truro useless because he was only pulling six coaches! Doesn't he understand that older engines need to take care?"

"I hope we don't see him again," Thomas sighed, as Twilight dropped his fire. "He's very mean and quite conceited."

"And that owner of his doesn't help," Boxhill grumbled. "I'd love to show her what a hard day's work is actually like, as I suspect she's never worked for anything. Good thing her daughter is on Sodor and not here."


The next morning, Thomas had been asked to make a delivery. A formation of wagons was being moved from York to the National Railway Museum's outpost in Shildon, County Durham. As it was, he was the only engine available for the job, and as Twilight attached him to his train, Silver Link flew past with several trucks loaded with building supplies.

"Good thing Spoiled Rich had me built, rather than a tank engine!" he laughed. "If that were the case, the summer retreat would never be finished!"

"Why you-" Thomas growled. He was close to reaching his breaking point with all the insults. "That's it. Couple me up!"

"What are you doing?" City of Truro asked, as he stopped alongside Thomas.

"I'm going to prove I'm just as strong as Silver Link!" Thomas said. "And that means pulling a heavy train!"

"Are you sure that's wise?" asked Fancy Pants. "I daresay that you're only a 3F, and Silver Link is a 7P. He has 14,148 more pounds of tractive effort than you do!"

"Little engines can do big things!" Thomas said, confidently. "I'll put old bossy wheels in his place!"

"This is going to end badly, isn't it?" Flying Scotsman said.

Twilight hopped up onto Thomas' footplate, sounded the whistle, and backed the train out of the yard and onto the main line. "Here we go!" she called. "Shildon bound!"

Boxhill rolled his eyes. "Oh dear," he said.

"We'd best get ready to recover Thomas if need be," Spitfire said. "Churchward, attach to the breakdown train if need be. The rest of you, to work! We've got lots of passengers to carry today!"


Thomas was soon making good time to Shildon. He took the slow line as far as Northallerton, where the slow and fast lines merged, and then proceeded to Darlington Junction, where he was booked to make a pathing stop to let a DMU arrive from Bishop Auckland. Whilst there, Twilight and Lightning Dust (the latter had come along as she had route knowledge that Twilight lacked) conversed with one another. "So, what prompted you to work with the NRM, Dust?" she asked.

"I felt I needed to do something with my life," Lightning Dust replied. "I didn't exactly made the best start, and thought this would be a good thing to do. Helps the local community, and I learn some new skills along the way. So, what's Sodor like?"

Twilight had no chance to reply when the DMU arrived, and their signal changed. "Right, away we go!" she said.

"Be careful! It's quite a steep climb up to Heighington!" Lightning Dust said. "Watch your speed!"

Thomas puffed out of the station with his load of vans, attracting the eyes of onlookers and railway personnel alike as he set off towards Shildon, which was now only a few miles away. He passed the old power station at the lineside and headed north to Heighington. "You were right, Lightning!" he said. "This hill is seriously steep! I don't think I can make it to the top!"

"Keep the pressure up!" Lightning called. Sure enough, they rolled over the summit. Twilight applied the brakes, but they seemed to be having little effect.

"Why aren't we slowing down?" she asked.

Lightning Dust glanced behind her and facepalmed. "The train's too heavy, and not enough of the vehicles are fitted!" she called. "We need to keep speed as low as we can so we can get round the bends and sound the emergency whistle sequence!"

Thomas continued to gain speed, and shot round a bend at far faster speeds than the speed limit permitted. "This isn't looking good!" he called. "There's a junction up ahead!"

"There's an uphill grade all the way into Shildon!" Lightning called. "Set the cutoff to full reverse and use the gradient to slow us down!"

Twilight disengaged the reverser lock, put the reverser into full reverse, and reopened the regulator. Thomas' wheels skidded and thundered backwards as they tried to grip the rails, but the heavy vans pushed him onwards. As he entered the uphill section, Twilight blasted the whistle four times, and they were routed onto an overgrown line just south of Shildon station. They whizzed through trees and woodland, but the gradient and the brakes finally began to have effect, and they came to a stop in the trees. They were battered, but very much unhurt.

"Where are we?" Thomas asked. "I've never seen this before!"

"This is an old freight line, disused but never pulled up." Lightning Dust looked around. "Getting back to the mainline shouldn't be too hard, but-"

Suddenly, there was a voice just beyond. "Hello?"

Thomas jumped. "Who's there?" he asked.

"Hello?" called the voice again. "Is somebody there?"

Lightning Dust waved to Thomas. "Ahead, SLOW." She had uncoupled the wagons and put on their brake blocks to hold them in place. Thomas puffed slowly forward, and cleared a hill when he puffed into a clearing. There was a loop of track, but what was more interesting was the engine sitting in the loop.

It was a tender engine, with two leading wheels, six driving wheels, and two trailing wheels. He had a round topped firebox, parallel boiler, and a flat sided six wheel tender with no side markers. He was very dirty and rusty, so much so that nobody could tell what colour he originally had been. His cabside numbers were illegible, and he had no nameplate.

Thomas had no idea what to say. Thankfully, the other engine did. "Hello," he said. "I heard you coming down the hill just beyond Heighington. I think you bit off more than you could chew, eh?"

"I wanted to prove I was as strong as Silver Link," Thomas said sadly. "The only thing I proved was how silly I am. My name is Thomas. Sorry if I woke you up."

"I'm Green Arrow," the engine replied. "And I appreciate the surprise visit. It's not often I get visitors."

Lightning Dust walked over to the engine. Her jaw dropped in amazement. "You're a V2," she said. "I thought they were all scrapped!"

"Looks like one got away," Green Arrow replied. "Mind you, I've been here a very long time. Longer than you've probably been around. I wouldn't know, I've lost all track of time."

"What is your story?" asked Thomas.

Green Arrow sighed, and began to speak. "I was built at Doncaster in 1936, the first member of my class. I was built for, and named after, a fast freight train called the Green Arrow. That said, I soon found myself working passenger trains as well. I worked all over the LNER network, and eventually for British Railways when I got a new number and a new livery. Then the diesels came."

"What happened next?" Thomas asked. "What did the diesels do?"

"The diesels began to replace steam engines all over the place," Green Arrow replied. "Before long, it was my turn. My cylinder block was cracked, badly, and was due to be scrapped. Luckily, the manager of Shildon works hid me away from prying eyes, hoping to fix me eventually. That was 1962."

"It's 2016 now," Twilight said, looking worried. She felt sorry for Green Arrow, and wanted to help him.

"I've been here over 50 years," Green Arrow said sadly. "And you say all my brothers and sisters are gone?"

"All of them," Lightning Dust replied.

"I'm all alone," Green Arrow whispered, and Thomas could have sworn he saw a tear drop onto Green Arrow's running board.

"I want to help you," said Thomas. "I'll go get the manager of the National Railway Museum, and he'll-"

"You really think I trust any of them?" Green Arrow replied. "Those are the same people who built us and threw us away when they no longer wanted us. How can I be certain they won't cut me up?"

"There are people in the world who love steam engines, and care for them," Lightning Dust said. "I'm one of them. We won't tell anybody else, but we'll get the parts we need to fix you and get you back on the rails."

"That won't be easy," Green Arrow replied. "I haven't worked in years, and most of my parts are in awful shape."

Lightning Dust looked over to Twilight and Thomas. "Drop off the trucks at Shildon," she said. "I'll inspect Green Arrow and establish how much work needs to be done."

Thomas backed away into the undergrowth. He had a new friend, and a friend in need is a friend indeed.

Hero of the Rails, Part 2

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Thomas reversed down the slope and stopped at the signal. Once the lights cleared, he headed into Locomotion: the National Railway Museum at Shildon, a vast facility home to a very big shed that, again, looked like a DIY warehouse. Thomas brought the wagons to a stop in the siding, and then pulled forward into the yard. Not far away was a maintenance shop, full of loud machinery.

A chime whistle attracted Thomas' attention, and he looked over to see a large steam engine come to a stop. He had a large, round topped firebox and boiler, and pipework running up and down the boiler. He had two leading wheels, eight driving wheels, and no trailing wheels, and had a large, flat sided tender supported on two bogies. His cabsides bore the number 5820, and the side of his smokebox was adorned with an air brake pump which panted noisily as he released his brakes. "Are you Thomas?" he asked, in an American accent. "I was told a train of vans was being brought here."

"I'm Thomas," Thomas replied. "And I brought the vans here, after having a bit of a scrape with steep gradients and heavy loads."

"It happens to us all," the big engine replied. "Big Jim, United States Army Transportation Corps S160. I'm on loan from Keighley for the summer. I assume you are too?"

"I'm here from Sodor," Thomas replied, as Twilight did some quick checks.

"Nice," Jim replied. "I've always wanted to go there. We can- Rosie! Watch it with the wagons!"

"Sorry!" a small S100 called, as she scurried past with the trucks Thomas had dropped off.

On another track, Silver Link flew past with some wagons. "Having a rest?" he called. "Enjoy yourself!"

"He's been whizzing back and forth all week," Jim commented, "moving supplies for a construction project. Why they don't move it by road is beyond me, as it's probably a lot cheaper."

"He's privately owned by some snotty rich woman," Twilight explained, "so she probably can afford it. It's some sort of summer residence for her and her family."

"Good Lord, don't tell me she has a family! They must be insufferable!"

There was another bang. "Rosie, what have you broken now?"

"Nothing Jim!" the engine said again. The S100 in question was painted ochre on her tanks with silver paint on the smokebox. Her running number was 72. "That was a box of bananas!"

"I wonder how that got there," Jim sighed. He began to back up. Thomas suddenly saw something interesting sitting on a wagon. It was a cylinder.

"Does that cylinder design look familiar?" Thomas said to Twilight.

"Wait," Twilight noted. "That's almost identical to the old one on Green Arrow." She spoke up. "Jim, may we borrow that cylinder?"

Jim looked back and smiled. "Oh, that one there? That's a spare part left over from when Shildon works closed in 1984. I think it had been made for an engine that was ultimately scrapped rather than repaired. We have no use for it, so sure, take it."

Thomas was attached to the flatbed containing the part, and a tarpaulin was attached to protect the part from any damage. Thomas then set off.

"Thomas, stop!" Jim called. "You need a brake van, as this train isn't continously fitted!"

After Thomas got a brake van, he set off from Shildon yard. As he was about to leave, he saw Silver Link heading in the direction of Bishop Auckland. "Where are you going?" Silver Link asked, as he stopped.

"None of your business," Thomas replied.

The carriage window was rolled down, and Spoiled Rich stuck her head out of the window. "Why have we stopped for no reason?" she asked. "Engines cannot randomly stop and start wherever they feel like it, as it is a violation of Rule 55. You keep stopping without alerting the signalman."

Silver Link went on his way, looking very silly indeed. Twilight and Thomas chortled and went on their way.

Once back on the main line, he backed up the hill and into the loop where Green Arrow was, pulling up alongside him. "Hello there!" he said. "I've got something for you!"

"What's under the tarpaulin?" Green Arrow asked.

Twilight hopped out of Thomas' cab and removed the tarpaulin, revealing the cylinder.

Lightning Dust's eyes widened in amazement. "That's a spare part from a V2!" she said. "Specifically, a right hand cylinder! That's one component off the list."

"The list?" Twilight asked.

"Where do I start?"

"Start at the very beginning," Thomas suggested. "I am reliably informed by Julie Andrews that it is a very good place to start."

"I've conducted a full inspection, and we've got quite the shopping list of parts to replace," Lightning Dust explained. "Green Arrow needs a new lubricator, new injectors, the connecting rods need cleaning up, new cylinders are needed, some of the tubes need replacing, bearings could do with a lot of grease, the brakes are stuck, much of the boiler cladding needs replacing, and a whole list of other things."

"What doesn't need replacing?" Twilight asked.

"The boiler and firebox are in pretty good nick, and the frames have held up well considering we live in a wet country."

As they made their way back to York, Thomas could see the construction project from the lineside. "We'll have to be careful," he said to Twilight and Lightning Dust. "That construction project and Green Arrow are alarmingly close. If we'll be moving parts about, we'll have to time it for when Silver Link isn't in the area."


"So, how'd the run to Shildon go?" Spitfire asked, as Thomas returned to the yard.

"It went pretty well," Thomas replied. "True, I went down a hill rather fast, but that's it really."

"Please be careful with the stock here," Spitfire said. "Many of these items are very old, and I'd hate to see them damaged. Mrs McNicol would be quite annoyed if they were."

"That's the General Manager of the NRM," Misty Fly explained, as she finished lubricating Bahamas. "There you are, Bahamas. You're ready for your railtour to Carlisle tomorrow!"

"Jolly good!" Bahamas replied.

Thomas decided not to tell the others about Green Arrow. The next day, he was busy in the yard with demonstration passenger trains, whilst Boxhill was preparing to set out for Shildon himself. More equipment needed to be moved for a special exhibition, and Boxhill had been assigned... for some reason.

"I'm not convinced I can make it," Boxhill commented. "I've only got 500 gallons of water in these tanks, you know."

Thomas spoke up. "Boxhill," he asked, "can you do something for me?"

"Sure." Boxhill smiled at his new friend. "Anything for a fellow LBSC machine."

"I found an engine called Green Arrow in the woods near Shildon. He's very old and needs new parts, so when you've dropped those wagons off at Shildon, could you ask Jim if there are any spare parts available? Lightning Dust will be able to help you."

"That sounds like great fun!" High Winds said. "No worries, Thomas! We'll do that, won't we Boxhill?"

"Sure thing!" Boxhill smiled, and set off for Shildon. "See you later!"

"What were you two talking about?" Flying Scotsman asked, as he came to a stop in the yard.

"Oh, something in the news," Thomas replied.


Thomas was still at work in the yard later that day, helping to assemble a demonstration goods train, when news came from elsewhere. "Boxhill is having mechanical problems and needs help to get to Shildon. You're the only engine available," said the foreman.

"I'll set off right away to help him," said Thomas, and made his way along the main line towards Shildon, calling at Northallerton to pick up water. On the way, however, he popped up to the place where Green Arrow was hiding. "Hello again!" he said. "We're hear to help you fit the cylinder."

"I have no hands, so you and Lightning Dust will have to do it," Green Arrow replied. "It was nice of Boxhill to drop her off earlier. His driver's quite a nice lass too."

Twilight and Lightning Dust got to work, and after about an hour's work the new cylinder was fitted. "One part down, several hundred to go," Lightning Dust smiled. "It's a good thing Green Arrow has a composite cylinder block; trying to fix this with a monobloc would have required us to rip the entire assembly out, which would be a waste as the central cylinder is fine."

"Thanks for the part," Green Arrow said. "Please don't take too many risks for me; I'm just an old engine in less than complete shape, after all."

"Which is why we'll work doubly hard to make you new again," Thomas said, and he was on his way. Lightning Dust stayed behind to do some more checks.

Later, Thomas met Boxhill and his train. He had stopped just short of the site entrance. "What happened?" Thomas asked.

"We ran low on water and had to get help from the fire brigade," High Winds explained. "It's a good thing we didn't drop the plug or put water in the firebox. Seriously, who would do that?"

"Why are you stopped here?" Twilight asked.

"The load's too heavy to restart on this grade," Boxhill replied. "Can you help push us up?"

"Sure!" Thomas replied, and pushed Boxhill into the yard. Jim was there to see them in, and looked surprised.

"Hello!" he said. "It doesn't feel like two minutes since you were last here."

"I had to help Boxhill get into the yard," Thomas explained.

"Do you have any parts?" Boxhill asked.

"Whatever for?" Jim asked. "We have a mountain of bits we haven't finished sorting through, but-"

There was a loud crash.

"Rosie! Be more careful!"

"Sorry!"

"Anyways," Jim continued. "Why do you need parts?"

Thomas decided to tell Jim about Green Arrow. "There's an engine near here called Green Arrow, and he needs new parts if he is to run again. But we cannot tell anybody; he asked us not to. Can you supply us with parts for a V2?"

"I think we have enough spares for that," Jim said. "But you may have to use similar parts rather than the exact ones. The A4, A3, and several other Gresley designs share some components, such as springs and cylinder blocks. Any bits you need, I'll leave here at the side of Hetton."

"Thank you!" Thomas and Boxhill said in unison.


When Thomas returned home (Boxhill staying at Shildon overnight to help out), the other engines were waiting. As was a woman in a suit. She did not look happy.

"Boxhill needed your help to get into the yard," she said, "and you were apparently late by over an hour. In that time, Boxhill was blocking track used by proper mainline trains."

"We are proper mainline trains!" Churchward said indignantly.

"We got delayed," Twilight said, not mentioning Green Arrow. "We'll be on time tomorrow."

"You had better be," the woman said. "With Boxhill now at Shildon, you'll do his work as well as your own, as we simply can't spare another engine."

"There must be hundreds of engines here!" City of Truro said. "Why not fire up one of the Class 08s?"

"The public want to see steam engines," the woman said. "I will see you all again tomorrow."

Thomas was moved undercover. "Who was that?" he asked.

"Mrs McNicol," Flying Scotsman said. "She's not usually like this, but the summer season is always quite stressful."

"Why were you late back?" Spitfire asked.

Thomas sighed. He told all the assembled engines about Green Arrow, and asked them for their help.

"I'd be more than happy to help," said Flying Scotsman. "A lost cousin of mine in need of parts. We can do that."

"Anything the guys at Shildon don't have, we can make it here," Spitfire smiled. "You have my support."

"Say no more," Bahamas smiled. "I'm in."

"As am I!" said Churchward.

"And I!" added City of Truro.

"We'll all work together!" said one and all.


The next day, the engines went about their work as hard as they could, and were trying to move parts about whilst they were at it. Flying Scotsman moved one shipment disguised as an empty stock move, moving the parts in a rake of old fish vans. "Mission accomplished!" he announced, as he moved into York yard upon his return. "The parts are now being fitted to Green Arrow. We might need a crane, though."

"Excellent," Thomas said. "I'll head over to Shildon and see if I can help."

"There's a pathing slot coming up in a few minutes, so you can take that," Churchward noted.

Thomas and Boxhill headed up to Green Arrow's loop to see how he was getting along. Much of his boiler cladding had been replaced, and the new cylinders were fitted. His connecting rods were now fixed, and he was also receiving a partial repaint.

"Thanks for the new bits!" he said. "Lightning Dust said she and Spitfire will put the new tubes in tomorrow, and for that they'll need to lift my boiler. Maybe I was wrong about people; you and the others seem to be a decent bunch."

"I'll be around to help with that as well," Twilight said. "See you tomorrow, guys. Are you coming, Boxhill?"

"I'll be staying at Shildon for a bit. Now we have parts coming from several places, we'll be able to finish Green Arrow in half the time!"

"We need to do this job properly, not quickly," High Winds reminded him.

"Of course."

Thomas headed back for York, but little did he realise that Silver Link was watching him. "He's up to something," the A4 said. "And I intend to find out what that is."

Hero of the Rails, Part 3

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Thomas and Boxhill were off helping Green Arrow again, as were their drivers. Silver Link was looking for clues. He knew that Thomas had friends at the National Railway Museum, so he headed there first to ask around. Sure enough, he found Emily working demonstration passenger trains. "Hello there!" he said.

"Hello!" Emily replied. "How can I help you, Silver Link?"

"Do you know what Thomas is up to?" Silver Link asked. "He's been constantly puffing back and forth between here and Shildon."

"Maybe he has a lot of stuff to move," Fleur suggested. "We often have to move stock from one site to another, or tow something from one place to the next. We've got the prototype HST coming in for repairs soon, for instance."

"Furthermore, why are you here?" Emily asked. "I thought you were supposed to be shipping supplies to Lady Moneybags' construction project."

"There's a fresh shipment of bricks that have just arrived at York," Randolph explained. "Brick carrying wagons are very hard to find, you know."

"Right, off we go!" Silver Link said quickly. "Thank you for the help, Emily!" And he puffed away.

Emily looked over to City of Truro. "Right, that's your cue!" she said.

"Indeed," City of Truro replied. "One shipment of V2 parts, off we go!" And he set off for Shildon, towing not only several wagons loaded with parts, but also the museum's pair of cranes.


One long session of fitting parts later, and lifting out a boiler to allow the tubes to be swapped round, Green Arrow was even closer to running once more. "I feel like a new engine!" he said.

"Well, we've cleaned out most of the axleboxes and completely overhauled the Cartazzi truck," Fancy Pants said, not caring that his jacket and suit were dirty. "Not only that, we've got some new cab controls coming tomorrow."

"We'll be conducting a steam test as well, to see if the boiler can hold pressure properly," Lightning Dust continued. "We'll have you running again on no time!"

"Please be careful, for your own sake as well as mine," Green Arrow said. "There was a silver engine not far from here. He may be onto us. I'd advise staying back for a bit, and then letting another engine deliver parts. Did you mention a GWR engine coming tomorrow?"

"Yes, Churchward," City of Truro replied. "You may want to be careful, as he's quite the pompous windbag."

Green Arrow snorted with laughter. "I guess he thinks green is the only proper colour for an engine!" he said. "And look at me, currently in works grey. Not that I don't appreciate all that you've done; quite the opposite, as a matter of fact."


Spoiled Rich started up Skype to talk to her family. After a moment or two of loading, the image appeared on the other end. Filthy Rich and Diamond Tiara noticed they were on air and reacted.

"Hello, darlin'," Filthy Rich smiled. "How's in goin' over in Yorkshire?"

"Construction is going slower than I'd expected," Spoiled Rich replied. "It's not that the workers are sloppy; quite the opposite, as a matter of fact. I think we should always hire Yorkshiremen to get things done in future. There has been a slowdown in the delivery of parts on Silver Link's end, and both he and Randolph seem distracted. I'll ask them about it in the morning." She paused. "And how are things on Sodor?"

"Splendid!" Filthy Rich said. "Boco's still workin' hard as ever, and Diamond Tiara's keepin' this quarry in order with Mavis."

"We shipped a record amount out today!" Diamond Tiara said, the first thing she'd said the entire conversation. "This is great fun, mother. You should give engine driving a try some day."

"Perhaps not when in my finery," Spoiled Rich replied. "It was excellent to catch up with you, but I think I need to use the steam room. We're currently piping in steam produced by Silver Link. After all, if there's no steam in a steam room, it's just a room!"

"And we sure have plenty of those," Filthy Rich laughed. "After all, we do live in a mansion."


Unfortunately for Spoiled Rich, construction was about to go from 'slow' to 'screeching halt', as Silver Link developed a fault and needed repairs. He was towed to Tyseley in Birmingham, scowling the entire way. But this produced a critical opening for the engines of the NRM to help Green Arrow. Emily and Churchward shipped a bumper load of parts, and with the extra manpower, Green Arrow was almost completely fixed. They were just waiting on some more valves and plates, which were due the next day.

"Good thing you found all these spares," Green Arrow said. "I just wonder why nobody thought to use them before this point. Is everything secured down properly?"

"We'll find out when we do the steam test," Lightning Dust explained. "Nothing too complicated; just lighting the fire and running you up and down a few times."

"He also needs nameplates," Churchward said. "And some new paint. Right now, he looks like a War Department engine."

"Is there anything wrong with a War Department look?" asked Surprise. "I think photographic grey looks quite nice."

Just then, a chime whistle sounded up the slope as Jim rolled in with some more parts. "I imagine you were expecting Thomas," he said, "but he couldn't get this lot up the hill. Here are some more parts."

"Thanks," Green Arrow said. "It's good to have friends like you, especially when I'm all alone."

"You're thinking of your brothers and sisters, aren't you?" Churchward asked.

"All of them gone," Green Arrow replied. "Carelessly thrown away. And yet I survived. The question is, why?"


The engines were in for some complaints when they got back. Spitfire called the engines together for a meeting. "Management isn't happy that we're doing all the side things we're doing," she said. "In fact, they want us to focus on the allocated work, not to mention questioning where all these bits are going."

"We'll have to finish the repairs tomorrow, or be spared the chance forever," Twilight said.

"But we'll stand beside you," said Churchward. "No matter what."


The next day, it was a glorious sunlit afternoon. Thomas arrived to see Green Arrow was steaming nicely. He was yet to be repainted, and as previously mentioned was completely lined out in grey. "Hello!" Green Arrow said. "I'm almost ready. Lightning Dust says we still need a part, but that she'll be able to do some steam tests with the old regulator."

"Why is the regulator an issue?" Thomas asked.

"Green Arrow is fitted with an Owens single simulated split cast double beat valve, a design that is leaky and sometimes hard to control. Later LNER engines received a single seat type that was easier to use. As long as I don't take Green Arrow out of first valve, I should be fine."

Suddenly, a familiar chime whistle echoed through the area. "Silver Link's found us!" Thomas cried. "We have to get out of here!"

"We haven't completed tests yet!" Twilight replied. "We have no idea if Green Arrow can safely operate."

"The way I see it, it's that or die," Green Arrow said grimly. "As Lightning Dust said, if she keeps me in first valve, I should be fine."

"If you think you can run safely," Twilight said, and she and Thomas set off. Green Arrow followed shortly behind, groaning as the lubrication worked its way through his motion and parts.

"I haven't turned a wheel in decades!" he groaned. "I'll get back into the swing of things soon though."

Both engines soon joined the mainline, running in close formation behind one another towards Darlington. Little did they know that Silver Link was following shortly behind them, and not watching his speed either.

As Thomas and Green Arrow cleared the set of junctions onto the mainline, Silver Link tore round the bend right behind them and crashed into Green Arrow, who was knocked forward.

Lightning Dust was thrown off her feet and to the floor. She had just finished filling the boiler, and got back up, closing both injectors. She then glanced over to the regulator. "Oh no."

The regulator, far from being in first valve, was fully open. She dashed over and tried to move it, but it was stuck.

"Shut the regulator!" Green Arrow shouted.

"I CAN'T! YOUR BOILER HAS PRIMED!" Lightning Dust shouted back. Green Arrow's wheels began to slip uncontrollably.

"Thomas! Get out of here!" Green Arrow called. "I'll recover in a moment!"

Silver Link looked in bemusement at this engine in front of him. "What on Earth?" he asked.

Green Arrow's wheels continued to spin, and Lightning Dust tried desperately to get him back under control. She released the reverser lock.

This was a mistake. The motion flew forward to 75%, and Green Arrow's wheels span faster and faster still. "BAIL!" he shouted.

Lightning Dust jumped from the footplate and ran as a deafening explosion filled the area. Cylinder parts, motion, and parts from the connecting rods flew through the air and landed all over the place.

Everybody looked back at the mess, and gasped. Green Arrow was a wreck. His cylinders had exploded, and the motion had disintegrated, the rods and components scattered all over the place, ruined. All their hard work was ruined.

"What a mess," Silver Link said. "This junk heap is good only for scrap now. Is this what you've been working on, Thomas? Good to see it was time well spent." And he puffed away.

Thomas sighed. "Sorry, Green Arrow," he said. "I thought we could help you, but-"

"It's not your fault," Green Arrow replied. "Maybe I can't be fixed. There's a reason the rest of the V2s were scrapped, after all."

"No, it's mine," Lightning Dust said sadly. "Maybe all I can do is constantly mess everything up."

"What do you mean?" Green Arrow asked.

"A long time ago, I was nothing but a reckless showoff who took far too many risks. One day, I was playing as part of the school soccer team and got several people hurt thanks to my idiocy. I was kicked off the team. I completely deserved it."

"So that's why you joined the NRM crew," Twilight said. "You're trying to atone for your actions."

"And now I've wrecked an engine," Lightning Dust whispered. "I'm sure to be fired now."

"You didn't wreck me," Green Arrow said. "The incident was caused by that Silver Link ramming into my tender. Oh well. Time to join my brothers and sisters, I suppose."


Silver Link arrived at York to see a massive train of building supplies waiting for him. "Good heavens," he said.

"Poor choice of words," said Spoiled Rich, standing on the platform. "You seem to have been doing very little work, judging from the backlogs and the delays in construction. I didn't want to consider the possibility, but I have had to call in some help. BoCo and Mavis will handle the work alongside you, and ensure you actually do it. I may be a social elite, but I'm not an idiot."

Silver Link glowered as Spoiled walked away. "That Thomas cost me so much," he said. "I'm going to make him pay."

Hero of the Rails, Part 4

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Later that day, Thomas had finished pushing Green Arrow onto a siding so he could await a maintenance crew. "We'll get the parts we need here and then-"

"There's no point," Green Arrow replied. "I'm completely broken. Look at my cylinders and motion!"

"If it helps," said Twilight, "most of you is still there, in working order. We can still get this done, as only those bits need replacing."

"A new regulator would also help," Lightning Dust added, still looking rather down in the dumps.

"In short, don't give up hope," Thomas smiled. "We can fix this. Anything can be achieved with a little determination."


Back at the NRM, the engines were worried when they heard about Green Arrow's accident, and angry at Silver Link for causing it. "Well, what do we do now?" asked Bahamas. "The world's seen him, and publically seen him suffer an accident."

"We need to get the official backing of the National Railway Museum," said Thomas. "We tried to repair Green Arrow on our own and it didn't go very well."

"Only because Silver Link bumped him!" Churchward said incredulously.

"So," Twilight continued, "we need the official backing and resources. They'll be able to make Green Arrow better than new, I know it."

"At the same time," said Flying Scotsman, "we should work to keep Green Arrow company in the meantime! Who's with me?"

"All of us!" called one and all, and the engines began whistling loudly.

"QUIET!" Spitfire shouted. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"


For the next few days, the Shildon area sounded to the busy noises of construction and engines. Silver Link and BoCo would take turns dropping off loaded wagons and taking empties back, and Mavis would shunt the wagons into their key positions. Of course, Spoiled Rich kept a watchful eye on all aspects of the operation- especially Silver Link and Randolph, whom she felt had not been doing a good job. Safe to say, they worked especially hard!

Meanwhile, the other engines all made sure to visit Green Arrow in his siding, and they kept him company. Flying Scotsman and City of Truro regailed him with tales of the glory years, including their cracks at going at one hundred miles an hour, whilst Boxhill told stories of his life in Brighton as the depot shunter, and Churchward recalled his years as a freight engine. Green Arrow enjoyed their company, and made sure to listen carefully to every word they said. Sometimes, he told his own stories too, and they were enjoyed.

On the final day of the construction project, Silver Link pulled up with the final load of wagons. Just then, he saw Thomas puffing towards Darlington. His eyes narrowed. "See him, Randolph?"

"Yes, I do," Randolph said. "It's that little blue tank engine."

"The one who ruined everything for us," Silver Link finished. "I suggest we teach him a lesson he never forgets." And he blasted off after Thomas, sounding his whistle loudly.

Twilight looked out of Thomas' cab to see Silver Link gaining on them. "What's that idiot doing?" she cried. "He'll hit us!"

The trucks they were pulling started to laugh. "Chase him! Bump him! Throw him off the rails!" they began to chant.

Thomas ran as fast as he could. He charged through Heighington as the steep gradient began to weigh him down, the wagons clanging backwards as he tried to reach the top.

Silver Link continued to gain on them. "You'll not get away this time!" he boomed.

"Almost to the top!" Twilight said. At last, they cleared the summit, and it was downhill all the way to Darlington, where hopefully they would lose him completely. Thomas roared down the grade with the speed of a thundering gazelle, and shot through North Road before turning onto the main line into Darlington. He only just held the bend.

Silver Link was not so lucky. He saw the change in speed limit- too late- and as he hit the bend he tipped over, falling onto his side and sliding across the main line. He wasn't doing well at all.

"Well, that's torn it," he said. "Could somebody close off the running lines?"

Thankfully, Twilight had already run over to the yard telephone, and rang the box at York. "York control, are you receiving me, over?"

"York Control, please state your message, over?"

"Locomotive has derailed outside Darlington station. Up and Down running lines need to be closed, over."

"Understood, setting all signals to danger. Will a breakdown crane be required, over?"

Suddenly, to Twilight's amazement, a loud whistle echoed through the yard. There, towing a breakdown crane, was a 2-6-2 with shining green paint, the number 4771 on his cabsides, a flat sided tender, and a nameplate on his smokebox.

It was Green Arrow. He was towing a pair of cranes.

"Negative York Control, cranes have already arrived. Out."

Green Arrow called over. "Looks like somebody did care! The National Railway Museum took me to York and fixed me up. Now I'm as good as new."

"Better than new," Lightning Dust pointed out. "Every conceivable part has been replaced, and he now has the new regulator type. Green Arrow's in better shape than the day he steamed out of Doncaster in 1936."

"Now then, let's get Silver Link back onto the track," Green Arrow said, as he hauled the cranes over.

Silver Link looked confused. "You're doing all of this? Even after I caused your accident?"

"An accident led to an accident," Green Arrow replied. "Accidents happen, and if the last few days have taught me anything, it's that it's unhealthy to hold a grudge. You are forgiven, Silver Link."

Silver Link was so stunned by this he couldn't think of what to say, as he was lifted back onto the track. Safe to say, although she did have a few words to say about his somewhat slapdash behaviour over the last few days, Spoiled Rich and her family forgave him too, as family should.

And what of Green Arrow? Well, with a single purchase, he was admitted into the National Collection as its newest member, and has taken up his place alongside the regular operating fleet of the National Railway Museum. He soon would have his first run on the main line, with Lightning Dust as his driver- but I can't tell you anything else, or I will spoil the next story.

Thomas and the Railtour

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Everybody was very excited at the National Railway Museum. The powers that be at Network Rail had cleared the Museum to operate regular timetabled services to Scarborough from York and return, and nobody yet knew which engines were rostered to take the trains.

"It could well be me," Mallard commented. "I haven't had a good run in weeks, you know."

"It also makes no financial sense," City of Truro commented. "York to Scarborough is only 36 miles one way. If anything, it would be more economical to use a mid range engine like the Black 5 in Station Hall."

"You mean the one who hasn't steamed in over 30 years?" Churchward said. "Why not Bahamas?"

"He's going home to Keighley tomorrow," Boxhill explained, "as is Misty Fly. It certainly won't be me, or Thomas. "We're too small."

"At least we have the running line to play on!" called High Winds.

Thomas said nothing. He was certain he wouldn't be chosen, but he enjoyed listening to the others debating it anyways, and they were all happy when it was decided the trips would go to Green Arrow on his first mainline trip in over 50 years.

When Green Arrow returned from the first trip, he looked exhausted. "I've never seen that many people!" he said. "The trains were extremely crowded. You wouldn't believe how many people were standing in the vestibules."

"Management's considering putting on extra trains or more coaches," Lightning Dust explained. "But if they do the latter, the strain put on Green Arrow would be too much."

"I don't fancy blowing up again," the big green engine sighed.

Thomas then had an idea. "Can I help?" he asked. "I know I'm only a 1P in terms of power, but two engines is better than one, isn't it?"

Spitfire, who had overheard the entire conversation, joined in. "Of course you can!" she said. "We have a surplus of engines around the yard at the moment, and attaching Flying Scotsman would be overkill. So yeah, that'll work!"

The next morning, Twilight arrived nice and early to get Thomas' fire lit and to grease his working parts. Soon, the shed was sounding to the noise of parts being checked, engines being lubricated, and steam gently wafting through the air, joined the smell of anthracite.

Behind Thomas, Green Arrow was also being prepped for service. Lightning Dust started by soaking a rag in parafin oil, and then lit it with a match. She then put the rag into the firebox, which already had some coal in it, and then set about cleaning and filling the boiler with water. After several hours of hard work, the boiler pressure on both engines had reached operational status. In fact, Green Arrow's brand new boiler was steaming so well his safety valve opened a few times!

Once they were cleared to operate, Thomas and Green Arrow were coupled together and worked light engine to York Station, where they found Boxhill and Churchward pulling the empty stock into the platform. The platform was jammed with people, a crowd that didn't seem to get any smaller even after the passengers had boarded!

Although some people managed to confuse Green Arrow and Flying Scotsman (quite how you do that I have no idea), the crowd was respectful and kept their distance. Thomas was coupled in front to lead the train, and the outbound run went very smoothly- so smoothly, in fact, that they actually arrived several minutes early!

At Scarborough, as the passengers set off to go on the beach and eat ice cream (it was unusually hot that day), Thomas was turned on the turntable, as was Green Arrow, so they could lead the train back to York. Whilst they waited, they decided to have a little sing song.

"Oh! I do like to be beside the seaside!
I do like to be beside the sea!
Oh I do like to stroll along the Prom, Prom, Prom!
Where the brass bands play, 'Tiddely-om-pom-pom!'

"So just let me be beside the seaside!
I'll be beside myself with glee
and there's lots of girls beside,
I should like to be beside, beside the seaside,
beside the sea!"

"You all have great voices," Thomas commented.

"Thanks," said Green Arrow. "I didn't know I still had it. What vocal range are you, Thomas?"

"I don't know," Thomas replied. "But some of my friends on a little railway at home are tenors and basses."

"I must visit your home someday," Lightning Dust said. "Sodor sounds like a lovely place."

Eventually, it was time to set off again, and off they went back to York. At the lineside, where a large church sat ruined, a crowd of people had gathered to watch the train fly by. "Look at all the people!" Twilight called.

But Thomas wasn't looking at them. He'd spotted something up ahead. "Stop!" he called. "The track looks wonky!"

Both he and Green Arrow slammed their brakes on, barely stopping in time. "What's going on?" Green Arrow asked.

"Look! The left hand line is lower than the other!" Twilight said. "The river has caused the embankment to give way, and this line isn't safe to use!"

"Phone the signalman and tell him the Up line is out of use," Lightning Dust explained. "We'll have to use the crossover and run single line past the landslip."

Twilight phoned the signalman and told him what had happened, and eventually got permission to use the other line, all other signals being put to danger. Thomas was uncoupled, and ran slowly past the damaged section. Once he was clear, Green Arrow hauled his coaches past the damaged track, and once they were clear, he and Thomas coupled up once more. Slowly, but surely, they pulled the train back to York. They were late, but nobody cared.


Several days passed, and it was Thomas' final day at York. A party of smartly dressed people arrived in the yard, amongst them Mrs McNicol and Sir Toppham Hatt!

"Oh dear," Thomas thought. "They're going to send me away for frightening that child."

But Sir Toppham Hatt was smiling. Mrs McNicol raised her hand for silence, and switched on a microphone. "Thomas," she said, "I had heard from Sir Toppham Hatt that you are a really useful engine, and during your time here you have gone above and beyond in helping us. You have not only prevented two nasty accidents, but have saved an engine from certain destruction and shown initiative and bravery time and again. To this end, it is my great pleasure to declare that you are an honorary member of the National Collection!"

Thomas could only beam with happiness as a special plate was attached to his running board. "This special plate will remind you of your time here. Three cheers for Thomas the Tank Engine, and his driver Twilight Sparkle!"

"Hip hip!"

"Hooray!"

"Hip hip!"

"Hooray!"

"Hip hip!"

"Hooray!"

The crowd cheered and applauded, and the engines whistled loudly and for several minutes. "Well done Thomas!" said Sir Toppham Hatt. "I knew that you would be a credit to our railway!"

"Thank you, sir, on behalf of Thomas and myself," said Twilight. "Tell me, what happened whilst we've been here?"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvFX0KW2mYA

Interlude 1

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https://youtu.be/tBCc_oXQ2II

Hello again. I hope you enjoyed those stories of Thomas' adventures at the National Railway Museum. In this next set of stories, we shall see what the other engines got up to whilst Thomas was away. In which, the engines of Thomas' branchline shall be really useful, the narrow gauge engines make a new friend, and an old enemy returns to cause trouble.

Hunt the Truck

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"Where is it?" Stepney complained, as he rolled back and forth at Tidmouth. "Where is that truck?"

He puffed up and down, looking all over the yard. The truck he needed was missing, and it was irritating him greatly. Stepney and Sweetie Belle were on yard pilot duty as BoCo had been called away to the mainland for some reason, and one of their many duties was to marshal goods trains for the bigger engines to take away. Their first order was to assemble a mixed formation of vans and plank wagons, plus a brake van of course, but there was a problem.

Sweetie Belle checked the manifest again. "It's supposed to be in siding three, but none of the trucks in that siding match the numbers listed here! ARGGGH! This is so frustrating!"

A familiar whistle sounded through the harbour as Edward rolled to a stop with some empties. "Howdy, Sugarcube!" called Applejack. "Y'all look redder than a ripe apple!"

"Is everything alright, Stepney?" Edward asked. "You look very hot and bothered."

"That's because I am hot and bothered!" Stepney complained. "We're trying to locate a truck. Sweetie Belle has the manifest, so she can show you."

Sweetie Belle secured Stepney's brakes and hopped off the footplate, walking over to Edward's cab. "According to this manifest," she said, "we're supposed to marshal the truck numbered 7423225 into the train behind conflat 827, but when I checked the sidings there was no truck numbered 7423225. I checked the other sidings and it's not there either."

Edward rolled his eyes as two familiar whistles sounded through the yard. "Bill! Ben!" he said. "Where have you hidden this truck?"

"Why should we know?" asked Ben.

"Stepney's the yard pilot, so it's his job to find it!" Bill added.

"If we don't get the truck now, the freight will depart late," Stepney said. "If that train departs late, there's a knockon effect in the yard, as I cannot start getting the next train together. This will also slow down the arrival of new goods and supplies, which will cause everything to run late."

"Including you two," Sweetie Belle said, crossing her arms and huffing.

"Watch you don't blow the house down!" Ben snorted.

Edward suddenly spotted a truck with the correct numbers in a siding. "There it is, in siding 17," he said quietly to Stepney. Then, speaking more loudly, he addressed Bill and Ben. "Bill, Ben, I suppose I could take these trucks back to their point of origin instead of handing them over to you. What would happen if you both returned with no trucks."

"You can't actually return empty wagons to where they started," Sweetie Belle started. "It's in violation of Operational Rule 26. You'd have to leave them here for later pickup."

"Thanks for undermining my efforts at discipline," Edward grumbled. "Go and get the truck, and I'll think of something else."

Stepney puffed off as Bill and Ben rolled past, chortling. "Sorry!" shouted Babs.

"It's their new game!" Sunflower added, as Ben rolled by. "They call it 'hunt the truck'."

"You're no fun at all!" Bill retorted.

"And you're no help at all," Edward said, rolling his eyes as Applejack uncoupled him. Applejack walked around the front and decided to address him.

"Ah can't believe Ah'm sayin' this Eddie, but we need ta teach those two a lesson they won't ferget in a hurry," she said, with a sigh. "Again."

Edward sighed. "I know. It's getting very annoying. But, I think I have an idea for something that could work. Let's speak with Babs and Sunflower and see if we can organise something."

The next morning, Bill and Ben shuffled in with a train of loaded wagons from the China Clay pits. Sitting on one of the facing sidings was a fully marshalled van train.

"Look over there!" said Ben. "a fully marshalled train."

"Yep!" Stepney said, as he puffed by. "Just finished putting that together. That's for pickup later."

Bill smiled at Ben. Ben smiled at Bill. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Ben asked Bill.

"Probably," Bill replied. "Let's split the train up and mix them in with all the other wagons! That'll give them hours of fun!"

"Right then!" Babs called. "This'll take a while, so let's get to work!"

It took them about an hour to take the train apart and hide the vans in several different places. Just then, Edward arrived. "Hello!" he said. "I'm supposed to be collecting a train of vans, but they aren't here."

"That's funny," Sweetie Belle replied. "We definitely assembled one. Didn't we, Stepney?"

"That we did," Stepney replied. "What was in them?"

"According to the manifest," Applejack began, "it were full of supplies for a local hospice. Ah doubt they'll be happy when they learn that medical supplies have gone missing."

Bill and Ben were shocked! They sped off backwards into the marshalling yards to try and locate all the vans they had split up, but to their shock several of the trains they had pushed them into had gone. "This isn't good!" said Ben. "What a mess we've made."

"A mess you've made," Bill said. "It was your idea to take the train apart and hide it!"

"No it wasn't, it was yours!" Ben snapped.

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"WAS NOT!"

"WAS TOO!"

"Instead of constantly arguin', how about we track those trucks down?" Sunflower suggested. "We can play the blame game later."

"There's a slight problem with that," Babs said. "We don't know what numbers the trucks were."

The twins and their drivers spent the rest of the day whizzing backwards and forwards across the island, trying to locate any vans that could match the ones of the medical train. They looked in yards, in sidings, on the backs of passenger trains (at one point leaving Gordon very confused), and Ben even wondered if one was in Ballahoo tunnel (which made no sense as it would be obstructing the running lines). At the end of the day, they returned to the docks, tired and sad. As they rounded the bend, they suddenly saw the train of vans sitting on a siding.

"Hooray!" cried Bill. "The train of vans is safe! The hospice will get their medical supplies!"

"I hope you've learned something today," said a stern voice. Sitting on another track was Edward. "Myself and the other engines were getting tired of you two constantly taking trains apart and hiding critical vehicles, so we decided to give you two a taste of your own medicine."

"Those vans are actually completely empty," Applejack said. "Edddie an' Ah dropped off the real ones this mornin'. You'd never move medical supplies in the ones you two split up, as they ain't refridgerated."

"And you had us racing all over the island in a tizzy, looking for trucks, much like the other engines must have after our little stunts," Ben said. He and Bill looked miserable. "Sorry," they said in unison.

"You are forgiven," Edward replied, with a smile. "As long as we can all grow and learn from our mistakes, we can move forward as really useful engines."

And all was forgiven. Safe to say, Bill and Ben never hid trucks ever again.

Free the Roads

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It was another day on Sodor, free of physics defying tank engines and trucks bouncing up and down like they had broken springs. Bulgy the Bus was rattling across the island, delivering passengers from stop to stop. His next scheduled stop was Haultraugh, which was a station on the Little Western. He came to a stop in the allocated bus parking lot, and decided to cause some trouble.

"Hello?" he asked. "Is your train running late? Then take the bus instead! Clean, reliable, fast, and-"

"Unable to squeeze under bridges," said a passenger. "You can stop with the false advertising Bulgy. We all know the stunt you pulled when you tried to steal Duck's passengers."

Gilda backed Bulgy up into his spot. "We need to show to islanders we can be trusted as a mode of transport. Ever since Farmer Colwick went out of business and moved operations to Barrow, we need to prove we can operate a safe and reliable passenger service, which includes not nicking passengers under false pretences."

"Anybody would think you'd want to drive a train," Bulgy grumbled, as Oliver steamed in with his Auto-Coach. Isabel was, naturally, leading the formation, and rang her bell to let Oliver know he could move off.

"Next stop, Arlesburgh West!" Oliver called. He began to move off out of the station, the crossing gates set to let him over, but then suddenly Bulgy bashed through them and blocked the line.

"Free the roads!" he shouted.

Scootaloo slammed the emergency brakes on and brought the train to a stop, just in time. She rolled Isabel's window down and shook her first angrily. "Hey! What gives?" she shouted. "You're blocking the road. That is a violation of traffic laws, which clearly state that trains have priority over road vehicles."

Gilda moved Bulgy's gear lever and moved him off the crossing. "Sorry, he's being really stupid today."

Bertie arrived on the other side as Oliver puffed away. "Hello Bulgy!" he said. "What's going on?"

"I'm trying to help you get more passengers!" said Bulgy. "The fewer people travel by train, the more people go by bus!"

"Or get in their cars and drive to places on the island, increasing pollution," Spike said. "Bulgy, your actions will be counterproductive if you're not careful."

"Yes, mother," Bulgy said, sarcastically.

As he drove off, he began grumbling again. "Stupid passengers going on those old clunkers," he said. "Why would they want to travel by those things when they can go on me?"

"That's basically the pot calling the kettle black," Gilda pointed out. "They're old. So are you. That's all there is to it."

Unfortunately, danger lay ahead on the road. Not far from Haultraugh is one of several water towers used by steam engines. On one side of the road lay a construction site full of gravel. Bulgy, not looking where he was going, was forced to swerve and crashed into a plank of wood. This threw a bag of gravel high into the air, which split and discharged heavy rocks into the water. Bulgy told nobody, but smirked as he saw Duck pull up next to the water tower. "Hello Duck!" he said, seeing a chance to get his revenge on his old nemesis.

"Oh, hello Bulgy," Duck replied. "I see they got you out delivering passengers yet again. Don't go under any tight bridges, OK?"

"That were a hair raisin' day," Apple Bloom replied, dropping the water pipe into Duck's tanks and turning the handle. Soon, water was flowing into the water tanks of the Pannier Tank. When they were full, the pipe was removed and Duck set off.

"Enjoy your water," Bulgy smirked, as he drove away. "That'll put the Little Western out of action, and it'll be more passengers for me."

Further along, Duck was running to Arlesburgh West when suddenly he got a pain in his boiler. "Could you add some more water to the boiler, Miss Bloom?" he asked. "It feels rather wonky in here."

Apple Bloom opened the injectors, but no water entered the boiler. "This ain't good! Somethin's blockin' the feed pipes!"

She dampened down Duck's fire as they struggled into a siding, where they stopped and she threw his fire out. She then went and telephoned the depot to tell them what had happened.

As the day went on, Oliver and Stepney both suffered similar and inexplicable failures, putting all three Little Western locos out of action. Bulgy, of course, got to take their passengers and was delighted. After all, Duck had humiliated him at the bridge. It felt good to pay him back. But soon, Bulgy would learn that karma would bite him in the tailpipe. More and more people poured onto him and Bertie, who had to handle all transportation as no other engines could be spared- not even Donald or Douglas, both of whom were busy with goods trains.

Gilda sighed. "It's extremely busy on the roads today," she said. "Look at all these cars! With the trains out of service, it's producing massive traffic jams!"

Up ahead, they came across Bertie, broken down at the side of the road with smoke pouring from his engine. "It's these loads," the smaller bus said. "It's all too much for my engine, and Spike here is trying to get me running again."

"It's rather hard to figure out what's wrong when there's so much smoke!" the boy replied. "And these passengers are stuck!"

"I'll take them," said Bulgy.

"But you already have a full load!" Bertie protested. "There's a limit as to how many passengers you can carry, seated or standing!"

Sure enough, Bulgy broke down further down the road and had to unload his passengers just shy of the bus stop. Gilda got out and looked at his engine. "Well, we'll need to get a lorry to get you to the depot," she said.

"This wasn't what I'd intended to happen!" he said. "If only I'd said something about that gravel bag!"

Gilda took note of this. "What gravel bag?"

"The one that burst in the water tower!"

Gilda's face went redder than it was with the summer heat. "Let me get this straight. You saw something that put the rail system out of action, but said nothing despite knowing full well that we wouldn't be able to pick up the slack?"

"Well, I wouldn't put it that way, but-"

"You're an idiot."

Gilda telephoned the depot to let them know what had happened, and soon enough the mess was cleaned from the engine's boilers. They got to work pretty promptly clearing out all the backlog of work that had built up during the day, and although the trains were running late, the passengers didn't mind. They were happy to be off a bus!

Bulgy was moved to the bus garage by rail. And who should be towing him but-

"Well, well, well!" Duck laughed. "Talk about irony. You tried to put us out of service, but only succeeded in messing your own engine up. If you seek revenge, first check your loading capacity!"

"That were hardly funny!" Apple Bloom said. "Imagine if a serious accident had happened as a result of blocked tubes, like a boiler explosion!"

Bulgy looked at the floor. "Sorry, Duck," he mumbled.

"All is forgiven," Duck replied. "And once you're back on your wheels, how about we start over, on a clean slate?"

Bulgy and Gilda were more than happy to agree to that!

Blue Mountain Mystery, Part 1

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High up in the hills of Sodor lies Blue Mountain Quarry, a massive slate quarry cut into the side of the Shane Dooiney hills. This quarry had been in operation for years, supplying high quality slate to all parts of the world. Due to the confined spaces and difficulty of extraction, only narrow gauge engines could get to it, and that was where they were working hard.

Skarloey and Peter Sam were busy working the lower levels, moving empty wagons of slate to be loaded and full ones to be taken down the mountain to Crovan's Gate. "It looks like it'll be another hot one, Peter Sam!" called Skarloey, his thick Welsh accent in full force.

"Isn't it always a hot day here?" Peter Sam joked.

Silverstream leaned out of his cab. "Come on, it's the better type of hot! The hot where you don't get cold, not the horrible, sticky type where you sweat loads and your clothes get stuck to you."

There was a moment's silence. "Silverstream, you do know there is a thing called 'too much information'?"

"I don't think it's too bad," said Ocellus. "Besides, we're sitting in the cabs of steam engines. Those are always warm, and be glad they have cabs for rainy days!"

Whilst Skarloey and Peter Sam shunted, Sir Handel and Duncan worked as 'road engines'. Their job was to haul the heavy loaded trucks down to the main line, where they would be emptied, and then they would bring the loaded wagons back. Duncan rumbled into the yard with a fresh load of empties.

"Here are some more wagons for you to load," he said. "Sir Handel's heading down, last I saw."

"Have fun shunting this lot," Smoulder added, as they pushed them into a siding. "I see you have a fresh load for us to move."

Rusty was being kept busy moving the dump wagons from the middle terrace to the first of the inclines. Rope hauled inclines were used to winch the hoppers up and down, as it was quicker than taking them through the spiral tunnels that the engines used to get to the upper levels. The hoppers also carried refuse and smaller rocks that couldn't be used as slate. "Here's another lot to go down!" he said.

"Good luck, guys!" Sandbar added. "You're all doing great!"


Meanwhile, in a higher section of the quarry, Duke and Rheneas were bringing a loaded train down from the Top Terrace. They needed two engines due to the steep gradients and heavy loads. "Watch the speed back there!" Duke called.

"Understood, Gra- I mean, Duke!" Rheneas said, quickly. "I nearly called him Grandpuff, Yona. Whoops!"

"Yona not understand why you call big brown engine Grandpuff Yona," Yona said.

"There was a comma between 'Grandpuff' and 'Yona'," Rheneas said. "I should probably pronounce my pauses a little more carefully."

Suddenly, there was a jolt. "What's going on up there?" Rheneas asked.

"We misjudged the weight!" Cheerilee called back, from Duke's cab. "The train is too heavy for the gradient, and our brakes won't hold it! We're going to derail!" She grabbed the cab radio, and began to speak. "Quarry Control, do you read me, over?"

"This is Quarry Control, we are reading you loud and clear, over."

"We have a loaded train that is out of control, repeat, out of control. Requesting you set derailer switch and prepare cleanup crew for recovery."

"Understood, setting derailing siding now. Prepare to bail and detach any unneccesary engines. Out."

Duke called back to Rheneas as they continued to gain speed. "Uncouple from the train and stop! You don't want to crash into this lot when it derails!"

"What about you?"

"I've been in worse scrapes in the past! Now go!"

Yona scrambled foward, shimmying over Rheneas running board until she reached the front. She reached forward, and undid the coupling connecting her engine to the train, then she dropped back to her cab and applied the brakes. Rheneas came to a safe and succesful stop.

The same could not be said of Duke. He and the trucks roared onto the middle terrace going at well over 40 miles an hour, and Cheerilee jumped as Duke hit the derailing switch and, well, derailed, coming to a stop at the crash barrier that prevented him from falling over the edge. The wagons broke apart in the impact, sending slate flying everywhere.

"Oh dear," said Rheneas, as he approached the crash site. "What a mess. This will take a while to clean up."

"Yona think we need crane. Yona thankful nobody was hurt."

"Indeed," Cheerilee said, "but Duke may need some repairs."


Later that day, Skarloey towed the damaged Duke back to Crovan's Gate. "Good Heavens!" said Mr Percival. "What happened, Skarloey?"

"Duke had a bit of an accident up in the Quarry," Skarloey explained. "The derailment was caused by an overloaded train. Luckily, nobody was hurt, but Duke is looking a little worse for wear."

"Very funny," Duke replied. "I can handle a few scrapes and I've had worse incidents than this."

"Am I talking to Duke or Stanley?" Mr Percival asked, confused.

"But we're one engine down," Ocellus said. "The Upper Terrace is now only being operated by one engine. We can't spare any of the engines from other parts of the quarry, and we need two engines to move the supplies down to Crovan's Gate. We need another engine to cover for Duke whilst he's repaired."

"Indeed," Mr Percival replied. "We do need a new engine. There's a Kerr Stuart Wren that's just finished working at a power station they've been building near Brendam, and furthermore he's the right gauge. But we need somebody to drive him."


The next morning, on the other side of the island, a passenger train sped onto the island from the mainland. This service had originated at Aberystwyth and had run direct. The passenger service was quite busy too, and one of the compartments had three people in it, as well as luggage.

The first person was an older man with blue skin, white hair, and orange eyes, dressed in fairly informal attire of a blue shirt, greyish pants and a pair of brown shoes. The second person was a woman, who was the man's wife. She had yellow skin and purplish hair, along with purple eyes. She was currently wearing a green dress with black shoes and socks.

The last person was a young boy, who looked awkwardly out to sea. He had cream skin and turquoise eyes and hair, the latter of which refused to stay down no matter how much water you added to it or how much you combed it. He wore a necklace with a purple string, turquoise beads, and a pink gem at the bottom. He also wore a black T shirt, white casual jacket, browny grey pants, white and turquoise shoes, and a black hat.

"How are you, son?" asked the man.

"Missing home," the boy replied, sounding down.

The woman scooted over to him. "Terramar," she said, soothingly, "I know how much you miss Bala, but this is a fresh new start for us, and a great new opportunity! Your father's new job is a good one, and Crovan's Gate is a railway town. Besides, you'll get to see your sister again."

Terramar sighed. "Thanks, mom," he replied. "It's still not easy, leaving your friends behind and moving to a completely new town."

"I know," his mother said. "That's why if you need anything, let me know. I'll be there."

"Next stop, Crovan's Gate," said the guard over the intercom.

"That's us, right?" Terramar said. "I'll go to the door."

As he left and closed the compartment door, the man looked at the woman. "I think you coddle the boy too much, Ocean Flow."

"He won't be around forever, Sky Beak," Ocean Flow replied. Their real names were Sam Braintree and Olinda Frome respectively, but they went by nicknames that were in the former case easier and in the latter because she didn't like her real name. "I want to enjoy this before he's gone."

"Fair enough, but he will need to toughen up a bit eventually," Sky Beak said, as the train came to a stop. "Ah! Here we are! Lovely Crovan's Gate, our new home!"

Picking up bags alongside his wife, they stepped out onto the platform into a hullabaloo of activity. Trains were constantly arriving and departing, and it didn't take them long to find Terramar. Or Silverstream, for that matter.

"Terramar!" the girl squealed, already wrapping him in one of her legendary hugs. "It's so amazing to see you! There's so much for us to do! We can go swimming, and make things out of shells, and-"

"Be- able- to- breathe?" Terramar asked, whose face had gone blue.

Silverstream released her grip. "Oh. Sorry. But welcome to Sodor!"

"I see you've already given your little brother the greeting, eh?" Sky Beak asked.

"Dad!" Terramar protested. "I'm only the younger by three minutes!"

"Shall we go and get checked in?" Ocean Flow suggested. "Silverstream, why not show Terramar around?"

"Happily!" Silverstream cried, and dragged her brother off into the crowd.


After a sightseeing tour conducted at breakneck pace, with Silverstream speaking at a rate of five words per second, they reached the shops of the Skarloey Railway. "And this is where I work!" she said, indicating to the six engines out on display. "Skarloey, Rheneas, Sir Handel, Peter Sam, Rusty, and Duncan!"

The engines all said hello in response.

"And their drivers. Terramar, meet Ocellus, Sandbar, Smoulder, Gallus, and Yona! They're my best friends!"

"Hi!" said Gallus, the first thing he had said to any of them all morning. "Nice to see another boy around here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Smoulder.

"Nothing in particular," Gallus replied.

"Yona think gender not important in working railway!"

"Does she always talk like that?" asked Terramar.

"Yeah," Silverstream said. "She's fun, though. See Sandbar over there? He and Ocellus have crushes on each other."

"No we don't!" they both said, in unison, although their red cheeks gave a critical clue away.

Just then, Mr Percival arrived. "Ah!" he said. "There you are. We have a busy day at the Quarry today, and we have a new engine arriving to help out whilst Duke is... indisposed. Unfortunately, we have no driver for him."

Silverstream spoke up. "My brother can help! He drove engines on the Bala Lake Railway."

"I did," Terramar replied. "But I'm not sure the skills are directly transferrable."

"What's your name?" Mr Percival asked.

"Terrance Marten, sir," Terramar replied. "Most people call me Terramar, though. Apparently it's because I spent loads of time on a beach as a little kid."

"Well, it does translate as 'Landsea', so that makes sense."

Just then, the new engine was lowered onto the rails by a crane pulled by a main line engine. The engine was painted green with white lining, and had two large domes connected to the boiler by a tangle of copper pipework, in front of which sat a flat topped saddle tank. It had two outside cylinders and an open sided cab atop the firebox and driver's seat. The firebox and firebox back end were also fairly simplistic, as would befit a narrow gauge engine built cheaply. The whistle was mounted atop one of the domes, and although he had front windows the cab was still very exposed. He looked very worried.

"This," said Mr Percival, "is Luke. He is here to help us whilst Duke is out of action. Terramar, would you mind being his driver?"

"Not at all!" Terramar said, as he walked over to Luke. It had been a very productive morning for him. He had gone from having no friends at all to 11 in the space of only 10 minutes.

"I hope you don't mind hard work!" said Ocellus. "Things can get pretty tough up in the quarry."

"I think I can pick it up pretty fast," Terramar replied.


Ocellus was right about it being hard work. Life in the Blue Mountain Quarry was intense and constantly moving. Terramar and Luke were assigned to the Upper Terrace, bringing slate down the higher levels to a series of cableways called 'blondins'. From here, the slate was lowered into a workshop and cut into pieces with a buzz saw, before being loaded into open sided wagons and stacked upright. The rock could be cut in this way as it behaves like wood, with veins and routes to make it easier to cut. Those pieces that were too small to be used as roofing were instead loaded into different trucks and taken away to be broken up into smaller bits, to be used either as gravel or ballast. Both Terramar and Luke were having a great time moving slate back and forth, but the work was exhausting, and by the time the klaxon sounded to signal 'end of shift', they were very tired.

Terramar backed Luke into the shed at Blue Mountain as there wasn't enough space for him to stay at Crovan's Gate. "I'll rest here tonight," Luke said, the first words he had said the entire time.

"Yes, you better had," Skarloey said, coldly, as he prepared to move off down the mountain.

Terramar had noticed that. Peter Sam had been fine with both of them, but Skarloey and Rheneas had consistently given both of them the cold frontplate, so to speak.

Before he could say anything, Ocellus did. "There's no need to be rude, Skarloey."

"It's a matter of trust, not politeness. And frankly, I don't trust Luke as far as I could push him. I know what he did. I was there, after all."

Terramar was even more confused.

"Hey! Terramar! Over here!" called Silverstream. "Come ride back with me and Peter Sam!"

"Oh! Sure!" Terramar replied, and sprinted over, taking his seat in the fireman's position.

"So, how was your first day?" Silverstream asked, as she glanced back down the line to check for danger signals or obstructions.

"It was pretty fun," Terramar admitted. "Hard work, though. I could use a dip."

"I know the feeling," Silverstream replied. "Good thing the house has a pool!"

When they got back to the shed and the other drivers had signed off, Terramar decided to ask Skarloey something. "Why were you and Rheneas being so curt with me earlier?" he asked.

Skarloey sighed. "What I am about to tell you must remain a secret. You must tell nobody else, understand?"

Terramar nodded.

And so, Skarloey began. "Over 50 years ago, Luke worked alongside us on the line. This included working the quarry. And one day, he did something very bad, and for his actions he was sent away from Sodor, initially to Ireland. And I fear that, with him here once more, history will repeat itself once more. So that is why I don't trust him, and to be honest I haven't quite finished gauging you yet."

"What did Luke do?"

"You know enough, Terramar!" Skarloey said. "Now go. We all have another long day of work ahead of us tomorrow, and you must rest."

Terramar nodded, and walked away. However, his mind was still full of thoughts. What was so bad that an engine would be sent away because of it?

Blue Mountain Mystery, Part 2

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That evening, as Terramar, his parents, and his sister relaxed in the family pool (it was a very hot evening), Terramar couldn't stop thinking about what Skarloey had said. What was so bad that you could be sent away from your home and to another island entirely? He pondered these thoughts as he dived underwater and dropped to the bottom. He often found he thought clearest when down here, even if for a brief while.

His thinking was interrupted when Silverstream suddenly appeared in front of him. She presumably said 'surprise', but it came out underwater as 'suplise'.

Terramar jumped and suddenly surfaced, his head crashing through the water and into the air. He coughed. "Silverstream!"

His sister surfaced a second later, laughing as she adjusted her goggles. "Having a nice time down there?" she asked.

"Maybe, before you decided to play peek a boo underwater!" Terramar removed his own goggles as Sky Beak and Ocean Flow swam over.

"Looks like you two are having fun!" Sky Beak said. "How was your first day here?"

"I made several new friends in a few minutes, and even got some work on the narrow gauge railway here," Terramar said. "The quarry's really neat."

"See?" Silverstream said. "I told you that you'd like it!"

Terramar sighed. "I've been thinking about something, though." He had to be careful. He couldn't mention Luke or what Skarloey had said, as that would be a breach of his trust. So he made his query as vague as possible. "Guys... what's the worst thing you've ever done?"

Ocean Flow scooted over and put her arm around her son's shoulders. "What's brought this on, honey?"

"I'm just wondering."

The others nodded. "I'll go first," Sky Beak said. "I once tripped up a fellow competitor in junior sports as I desperately wanted to win. I got disqualified for my actions instead and came home with nothing. That day taught me that the desire to achieve your goals must never come at the cost of fair play."

Silverstream spoke up next. "A while back, a Christmas tree fell over at the Works, and my friends and I had to clean up the mess. I was so mad at being forced to clear up a mess I hadn't created that, instead of sticking by my friends, I angrily accused Ocellus of having done the deed. I should have been there for my friend, but instead I let her down."

"Ocellus is the one with the pink hair, right?" Terramar asked.

"I'll go next," Ocean Flow spoke. "I accidentally gave a fellow worker an allergic reaction when I brought some homemade cookies into work one time. He had a nut allergy that I didn't know about."

"Is he OK?" Silverstream enquired.

"Yes, yes. He's completely fine."

"I guess that leaves me," Terramar sighed. "I once pushed somebody into a pool. Nothing bad came of it, but it could easily have gotten a lot worse. What if they hadn't been able to swim?"

"But they forgave you," Ocean Flow reassured him. "No matter what happens or will occur, we will never throw either of you out because we love you.

"Thanks mom," Terramar sighed. That did make him feel a lot better, but some thoughts yet remained.

His thoughts were interrupted by his father's voice. "Who wants to go in the hot tub?"

As his family members evacuated the pool quickly, he followed them. What was so bad that you could be sent away?


The next morning, the drivers of the Skarloey Railway were checking in for work. Yona had been the first to arrive, and was giving Rheneas some much needed maintenance and some paint.

"As I was trying to tell Skarloey, I'm thankful that I'm getting a new coat of paint," Rheneas said. "As much as we are supposed to work, and getting dirty is an inevitable part of railway operation, it feels good to get a cleanup every now and then. After all, 'no polish means'-"

"Are you seriously doing that again?" Duncan asked, annoyed.

"Not neccesarily," Rheneas continued. "Besides, you were the one who stopped without being polished."

"I had to recover you," Skarloey grumbled. "But hear this Rheneas, the grimy look makes you look like a really useful engine, as we all are."

"Yona agree!" Yona said. "Yona think Rheneas is really useful engine, good for moving passengers or slate!"

"Or any other cargo, for that matter," Rheneas laughed.

Ocellus opened Skarloey's cylinder cocks and moved him out into the yard. "Right then!" she said. "Blue Mountain Quarry, here we come!"

"Can I catch a lift up?" Terramar asked. "As you know, my engine is up at the quarry."

Skarloey's face fell, but Ocellus seemed happy to oblige. "Sure! It'll be nice to have some company."

"Am I not company?" asked Skarloey.

"Of course you are," Ocellus soothed. "You're also my friend."'

As they set off up the valley, the two humans engaged in conversation. "So, how do you find Crovan's Gate?"

"It's pretty nice," Terramar admitted. "Lots of friendly people and faces to see. Our house is also pretty nice, given we live not far from a workshop."

"One of the biggest of its kind in the world now," Ocellus pointed out. "I've been here for a bit now, and it never gets boring around here!"

"It won't with people like you around!" Terramar smiled. "Nor this railway. It reminds me of the Talyllyn!"

"Have you met my twin Talyllyn?" asked Skarloey.

"Yes," Terramar replied. "Mind, he wasn't very chatty at the time. Engines only recently regained sentience across the world, after all."

Before long, they arrived at the quarry, and Ocellus made a quick dash to the WC before work began. Terramar hopped out and spoke to Skarloey. "I spoke to my parents, and we couldn't think of anything so bad that you could be sent away for it."

Skarloey looked shocked. "You haven't been blabbering about Luke, have you?" he asked.

"No! I never mentioned him!" Terramar protested.

Skarloey relaxed. "Good. Terramar, I think we, as narrow gauge engines, can trust you. Now then, once Ocellus returns from her bathroom break, we shall begin work. Get Luke fired up!"

Sure enough, the working day began, with the engines gradually arriving from Crovan's Gate. Slate was shifted, and wagons rattled up and down the hills both loaded and empty. Sir Handel took the loaded wagons away as fast as he could, and brought back empties equally speedily. Rusty also helped with marshalling empties together along the way to speed up loading.

During a lunch break, Luke decided to open up a bit to Terramar. "Sorry for not speaking to you yesterday," the little engine said.

"Hey, it's OK," Terramar replied, as he started on one of his tuna sandwiches. As his name suggested, he ate a lot of seafood. "First days are often quite awkward. But I've been here a bit now, and I've got the ropes- I think."

Both of them laughed at that. "But I've been wondering," Terramar continued. "What did you do that got you sent away from Sodor? I spoke with my family and we couldn't think of anything that would get a person sent away."

"You're the brother of the hyper girl, right?" Luke asked. Terramar nodded. "I've done bad things, Terramar."

"We all have!" Terramar replied. "I once pushed somebody into a pool as I was angry that they'd beaten me in a race."

Luke sighed. "If you're still around after that, maybe there is hope for me after all. I'll tell you what I did, but you must tell nobody else. Understand?"

"I understand," Terramar said.

And so, Luke began...


Blue Mountain Quarry, 1963


Luke was excited to start work in the Blue Mountain Quarry. The facility seemed massive to an engine who had previously only worked on peat bogs, and as a result he wanted to get started.

There was another saddle tank working in the quarry, similar in design to Skarloey but somehow blockier in shape. He spoke with a calm but firm voice (in a Welsh accent to boot). "You be careful with the slate wagons, as they are very heavy," he said. "Especially when loaded. I saw firsthand at Dinorwic the effects of runaway slate wagons, so please be careful Luke."

Luke was too excited to listen, and was soon putting together a loaded train at the top of the incline to go down, pulling the empty wagons up. Once he was done, he signalled for the wagons to be moved down.

The other engine was waiting at the bottom of the incline, ready to collect the loaded wagons. The winding engine started up, lowering the wagons down the hill. But the load was too heavy for the rope, and it snapped. The wagons gained speed, rattling and roaring down the slope until they crashed into the engine. Several wagons broke apart in the impact, and wood, metal, and slate went flying everywhere.

As for the engine at the bottom- a badly damaged wreck remained.


"...They took him away," Luke finished. "And he was probably scrapped. I was sent away for causing the accident. That engine is dead... because of me, and for that Skarloey and Rheneas cast me out!"

Terramar looked at the upset tank engine. "It was all an accident," he said. "I'm certain those involved have forgiven you."

"Fat chance of that," Luke snorted. "Did you see the way Skarloey and Rheneas acted yesterday? They don't trust me, and I'm worried. If anybody else on the Island finds out what I did, I'll get sent back to the power station, or worse away from Sodor!"

"That won't happen," Terramar said firmly. "I won't let it happen. As long as we're together, you're safe on Sodor."

Just then, Mr Percival arrived on one of the empty workings coming back. "Hello, Terramar!" he called. "I would like to thank you for your hard work the last two days, but Duke has now been repaired and can come back to working here. We have no further need for you."

Terramar's heart sank. "Sir, if it's possible, can I continue working? Luke and I-"

"I won't keep more engines in working order than I need," Mr Percival said. "You can work here another two days, but then Luke is going back to CEGB Brendam."

Terramar looked at his new friends. "Sorry, buddy," he said. "I'll be sure to keep helping and looking out for you. Wait a second. A saddle tank with a Welsh accent? And you say he mentioned working at Dinorwic?"

"Yes," Luke replied. "Why?"

"Just curious, that's all." Terramar had an idea as to who the engine might have been. But there were a number of potential leads.


The next morning, long before work was due to start, Terramar snuck out and walked along the streets of Crovan's Gate, looking for a specific house. It took him a while, and the humid air was already causing him to sweat, but he kept on going until he reached his address. "22 Hartshorne Street, off the intersection between Campbell Drive and O'Donnell Avenue."

He reached the house, a fairly normal property, and knocked on the door. It took a few moments, but eventually Ocellus answered the door. He could tell it was early for her, as she was still in her nightgown. "Hi, Terramar," she yawned. "It must be really important if you're popping round at 6 in the morning."

"It is," Terramar insisted. "Also, it's hot out here. I have something to ask; can you help me figure out a class of engine?"

Ocellus' face lit up almost immediately. "Sure! Let me get my sketchbook!"

A few moments later, the pair were sat around the kitchen table, with Ocellus' parents themselves getting ready for work. "So," Ocellus said, "it was a saddle tank with no cab, an exposed smokebox, outside cylinders with inside frames, no dome, a copper capped chimney, and square buffers. Right?"

"Right," Terramar replied, and nodded. "No clue what colour it was, though."

"OK then," Ocellus nodded. "One minute. Let me get to work!"

A few minutes later, she had a fairly detailed technical drawing done. "Based on your description, it was a Quarry Hunslet from the second batch, built between 1900 and 1904. That limits us to Holy War, Hugh Napier, and Irish Mail."

"That helps me greatly!" Terramar replied. "Thanks for the help, Ocellus. I now need to make a phone call."

"And I need to get ready," Ocellus laughed. "I've got to get to the shed in an hour!"

Terramar opened his mobile and dialled a number on the phone.

"Bala Lake Railway head office, can I help you, over?"

"Hi, it's Terramar. Can I speak to Holy War please?"

"Sure thing. Putting you on speaker now."

Moments later, another voice spoke. "Hello, Terramar. How are things going on Sodor?"

"An engine called Luke told me about an engine hit by slate trucks going too fast. Does this story ring a bell?"

"It is 100% true Terramar. I was the engine hit by those slate trucks."

Blue Mountain Mystery, Part 3

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"It is 100% true Terramar. I was the engine hit by those slate trucks."

There was a moment's silence on Terramar's end. "What happened? I was told one side of the story, but I'd be interested to know what happened on your end."

"Very well." The world began to go blurry.

"What's happening?" Terramar asked.

"I'm having a flashback," Holy War explained.


Blue Mountain Quarry, 1963.


Holy War moved into position at the bottom of the incline, ready for the loaded wagons. He knew Luke was working up at the top, and that the machinery around here was in rather poor shape. He quickly called up. "You be careful with the slate wagons, as they are very heavy, especially when loaded. I saw firsthand at Dinorwic the effects of runaway slate wagons, so please be careful Luke."

There was no response from Luke, but Holy War assumed that he had heard. How could he have not heard, given the echo chamber this place was?

As he saw the ropes being attached to the incline, he suddenly saw something was wrong. The ropes looked to be on the verge of breaking. He sounded a warning on his whistle to alert the foreman to this problem, but by then it was too late. And without his driver he couldn't move an inch. He looked as the rope snapped and the trucks roared down the incline, crashing into him and throwing him off the rails.

"Ouch!" he said. "I wasn't expecting that!"


"I was badly damaged," Holy War finished, "and taken away from the quarry. However, my original owners, Dinorwic, decided to repair me with parts from dissasembled Quarry Hunslets, and I went on working until 1967, when I was bought privately by a Mr Alan Cliff and brought to Bala. I believe you know the rest."

"Now I know the entire story," said Terramar. "Luke didn't send you to the scrapyard! You were saved for preservation!"

"Who's Luke?" Holy War asked.

"The other engine with whom you worked! He's here on Sodor!" Terramar paused. "Is it possible if you could come to Sodor?"

"I'll have to ask Miss Petricia," Holy War said. "Or Berry Punch, as I believed you call her. The local pub owner?"

"Thanks. I think we have a chance to make things right!"


The next morning, for his final day of work, Terramar caught the train up to the quarry, excited to tell Luke the news. "Luke!" he called, as he hopped out of Rheneas' cab. "I know the truth now!"

"About what?" Luke asked.

"The engine! The engine hit by the slate wagons! He survived the incident, and I knew him when I lived in Bala! His name is Holy War, and he's coming here to see you."

Skarloey's eye twitched as he heard what Terramar had said. "What have you done?" he demanded.

"I told the story," Terramar replied.

Skarloey, normally so kind and gentle, lost his temper then and there. "I distinctly remember telling you that what I told you must not leave your mouth! It was a secret, and secrets are supposed to be kept! So not only can you not keep your mouth shut, you also lied to my face!"

"Skarloey," Ocellus said, trying to get him to stop.

"That Luke is a danger with his carelessness, and at this rate the entire island will know!"

"What's the big deal?" Rusty asked. "We've all had accidents- yourself included."

"There's no need to be this harsh!" Sandbar added.

"I think maybe being this stuck up on that incident was a mistake," Rheneas said quietly.

But still Skarloey went on. "I know I've had accidents. But that doesn't excuse carelessness."

"Skarloey," Ocellus said again, a bit more forcefully.

"As a matter of fact, I should have-"

"SKARLOEY!"

The entire quarry fell silent at that moment, and everybody looked over in shock. Ocellus' face was red with righteous anger. Safe to say, none of them had ever heard her shout or raise or voice before.

"Skarloey, I have had enough of you verbally abusing Luke like this. I thought you knew better. Apologise to him now."

"Why should I?" Skarloey replied. "He caused that accident."

Ocellus looked even crosser. "Fine," she said. "Have it your way." She applied his brakes, threw his fire out, and walked over to the mess hall. "I refuse to talk to you until you show some basic courtesy."

The other engines steamed away, looking disgusted at Skarloey. "And I thought I was petty," Duncan snorted, as he set about assembling his trucks."

"Bully," Rheneas said.

"Yona think Skarloey bad engine!" Yona said.

"Skarloey not care what Yona think," Skarloey replied. "Just wait and see! There'll be another accident!"

Terramar sighed, and walked over to Luke. "Sorry about that," he said.

"It's alright," Luke replied. "I'm glad I have at least one friend."

"You don't have one friend," Peter Sam smiled. "You have 12. Now let's get to work whilst Skarloey takes time to rethink his actions."

And so, they went about their day, mostly as normal at first. But then, something happened that would change things forever.

It happened as Terramar had finished with his lunch break and was on his way back over to Luke to resume work, when unfortunately he put a foot in the wrong place. The entire side of the hill collapsed, and he went down with it.

"AAAAAARGH!" Terramar grabbed onto a rail and held himself there. "Somebody help me! It's a very long drop!"

"Peter Sam, we have to help Terramar!" called Silverstream.

"We can't," Peter Sam said. "I'm too heavy. The ground would collapse beneath my weight. And neither can Sir Handel, as he's too far away."

"Then who can?" asked Sandbar, as Rusty pulled up alongside Peter Sam.

Just then, steaming onto the damaged section of rail, was Luke. Skarloey, far down below and unable to turn a wheel, snorted. "Here we go again."

Just then, Terramar lost his strength, and began to fall.

His fall was very suddenly interrupted when his hand gripped something. He opened his eyes and, sure enough, it was a buffer. He looked up to see Luke, smiling.

"Don't worry!" he called. "I've got you!" With a grunt and a blast of smoke, he hauled Terramar over the side of the cliff and onto level ground.

"Luke, you saved me!" Terramar exclaimed. "Thanks!"

Luke smiled again. "Anything for a friend," he replied, as Terramar got into his cab. Both engine and driver returned to the lower level to choruses of whistles and cheers. They stopped outside the shed.

Skarloey looked very downtrodden, and rather ashamed of himself. "Luke," he began, "I know I probably don't deserve it, but I want to tell you that I'm sorry for the way I have treated you. I thought you nothing but a problem, but you just risked life and frame for somebody you had only just met."

"You are forgiven," Luke said. "Now if only I can forgive myself."

"There is no need," said a familiar Welsh voice, as Holy War steamed into the quarry, now painted blue and bearing a cab. "The accident wasn't your fault. It was a defective rope that caused the crash. It would have given way no matter what load was attached to it."

"So you did survive!" Luke cheered. "Thank you so much, Terramar! I've never felt this happy in my life."

Ocellus emerged from the mess hall to see Skarloey looking down. "I hope you learned an important lesson today," she said. "Just because somebody did something seemingly bad a long time ago, you shouldn't judge them until you've heard the full story."

"Indeed, and my anger clouded my judgement," the saddle tank sighed. "Ocellus, can we be friends again?"

"Of course."

Luke and Terramar were made new and permanent residents on the Skarloey Railway, and Holy War hung around to help out with the summer holiday traffic. I am happy to say that all is well and happy on the little railway in the hills.

Snow Problem

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Whilst Thomas and Twilight were away at York, Percy and Pinkie Pie had responsibility for Annie and Clarabel, and the duo ran the bulk of Thomas' services. Daisy, however, was allocated to working the early morning non stop service from Knapford Junction to Ffarquhar, which connected with the Wild nor'Wester (the timings had been revised following the 'Missing Coach' incident to prevent such a mishap from repeating itself). This made Daisy feel very important.

"It goes to show," she said to the other engines, sounding smug and self important, "how much Sir Toppham Hatt relies on myself and Trixie to keep this line running. We are fast, efficient, and reliable."

"Always trust a grrrrrrrrreat and powerful magician to get things done!" Trixie exclaimed. "My magic can solve most problems... and so can peanut butter crackers."

"Doesn't being a magician involve deception?" Pinkie asked. "I thought you worked by tricking the eye!"

"The art of illusion has no effect on honesty," Trixie replied, taking a bite out of a sandwich.

"If you see any bulls, make sure to honk your horn," Toby said.

"Choo choo!" shouted a passing truck.

"All right then, why are we referencing Chugginton all of a sudden?" Percy asked.

"I don't know," said Toby. "All I know of it is that the series is gone. Anyways, Flash and I can't sit about much longer. We have to get up to the quarry."

Diamond Tiara and Mavis had returned from whatever they had been doing on the mainland, and were soon back at work in their old home of Ffarquhar Quarry. They would marshal long trains of heavy stone trucks, and Toby would then arrive to drop off the empty wagons and take the loaded ones away. This procedure repeated itself several times throughout a working day, and every now and then Mavis and Toby swapped places for a change.

One day, bad weather arrived. Snow and ice had wreaked havoc on the West Coast Main Line, resulting in delays and a diesel needing to bring the connecting train as far as Carnforth. This, in turn, led to the train from Barrow to Vicarstown being delayed. In turn, this delayed Gordon, and this therefore delayed Daisy, who sat at the junction waiting for Gordon. Snow and flakes whirled around the sky and settled. Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, and Trixie looked worried.

Daisy didn't. "What fun!" she exclaimed. "Trixie, I don't understand why the other engines dread the snow so much. I think it's rather pretty, and of course I have the rails to guide me on my way."

Trixie looked concerned. "Trixie doesn't agree," she said. "Daisy, you only have a fraction of the weight of a steam engine, and can't easily push your way through." She shivered, regretting her decision to wear a dress that morning. "We all know how Thomas got stuck."

"He likes to tell us the story a lot!" Daisy laughed.

Just then, Gordon rattled in and stopped at Knapford Junction. Connecting passengers ran across the footbridge and into Daisy. "I find it absurd!" Gordon said. "Engines, too scared to go out in the snow and power lines not operating. Why, back in my day we didn't mind a bit of the silly soft stuff. In fact, we had to deal with it a lot!"

"I fully intend to keep going, no matter what!" Daisy said confidently. "The passengers must get to their destinations. Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these engines from the swift completion of their appointed rounds."

"That's the spirit!" Rainbow Dash called over, then heard the guard's whistle. "Right away!"

"See you later!" Gordon called, as he pulled away with the Express. "And good luck!"

"Trixie thinks we'll need it," Trixie said, as she hopped into the cab and sounded the departure buzzer. The railcar rattled out of the platform and off up the branch, but as they went on the situation worsened. The sky darkened, and was soon completely blotted out by clouds and snowflakes. The air was cold, and snow was blown onto Daisy's windows and into her face.

"Ach!" she cried. "I don't like this!"

"Neither does Trixie!" Trixie exclaimed. "I can't see a thing, even with the wipers going on full power!"

They struggled onwards into the darkness, until Trixie brought Daisy to a stop at the next signal box. She went over to check in with the signalman, and came back looking glum. "A snowdrift has blocked the line beyond Ellsbridge!" she informed the passengers. "I'm terribly sorry, but the weather conditions dictate that we must return to Knapford Junction. Alternative transport will be waiting there to get you to your destinations."

"At least they have provided it," said one passenger. "I never get that on Virgin Trains when they cancel my train for no reason."

Trixie switched to the rear cab, and Daisy began to run back down the line towards Knapford Junction. But it wasn't long before trouble struck, as Daisy's engine began to misfire. She rolled along for a quarter mile before her engine finally cut out completely.

"Help!" she called out. "My air intakes are blocked!"

Trixie cleared them as best she could, but no sooner had she cleared the snow away then fresh snow fell into the intakes. "I need to try and call for help!" she said. "The in cab radio can't get a signal, so I'll need to walk back to the signal box to get some help!" She trudged off into the snow. Daisy sat there, feeling miserable. Eventually, Trixie returned, and even she couldn't cheer the railcar up.

A few minutes later, a loud whirring noise could be heard, and a searchlight shone over the landscape as Harold the Helicopter arrived. He touched down on a nearby snowbank, and the passengers all scrambled onboard into his cargo compartment. The passengers were then flown to the airfield, where they were cared for until they could reach home.

Sadly, Harold couldn't help Daisy. She was stranded there until the next morning, when Toby towed her up to Ffarquhar for repairs. "If there's one thing I have learned from this week," she said, "it's that snow is nothing but a nuisance."

Toby could only agree.

Washout

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The line to the quarry continues onwards from Ffarquhar Station, at the end of Thomas' branch line, and runs over a stream partway through its journey. This stream , which is situated at the top of the valley, is crossed on a small wooden bridge with stone supports, and normally has no issue with water. However, the snowfall from earlier in the week had started to melt, and the snow turned into a horrible slush that turned the water an unpleasant brown colour. The water level rose higher and higher, rushing down the valley to meet the River Ell at the bottom. Percy didn't like the look of the stream when he passed over the bridge towards the quarry. The water level was very high.

"I hope we'll be able to make it back!" he said to Pinkie Pie. "The water level looks dangerously high, and me and these empties may get stranded at the quarry!"

"There are worse things than being stuck at the quarry," Pinkie Pie replied. "Running out of cupcakes is one of them. But I wouldn't worry if I were you. The water will have to come a lot higher before it can stop us!"

"I would hope so too," Percy said. "I remember all too well that time we got stuck in the flood whilst getting the children home for Thomas. And when we fell into a harbour. And got covered in dust and crashed into a chocolate factory."

"Oh well, that's all behind us," Pinkie laughed. "When the skies are dark and grey, remember to smile! That'll cheer everybody up!"

Percy had no idea how his driver could stay so jolly at all times, but decided to keep it to himself. He was shunting wagons at the quarry when Toby arrived with a fresh load to relieve him.

"Hello!" Flash called. "Mavis and I will handle the quarry for the rest of the day. You two can head back to Knapford now."

"What about the stream?" Pinkie asked.

"The water level's very low," Toby said. "You'll be safe to cross for the forseeable future."

Percy and Pinkie started the return trip. There is no turntable at the quarry, so engines heading back down the line must proceed bunker first (or, on the rare ocassions that tender engines use the line, tender first). Percy couldn't easily check the stream as he saw the world roll away from him rather than toward him, as was usually the case, but Pinkie seemed pleased.

"Hooray!" she said. "The water level is much lower than this morning! We're good to go!"

Percy felt a lot better after that. They sped down to the junction, coupled up to Annie and Clarabel, and were simmering nicely when Henry rolled in with a stopping service.

"Henry, why do you still have the wrong lamp on?" asked Percy. "Your lamps have you as a Class J working, not a Class B."

"Oh dear," said Henry. "Do you know when Thomas is coming back? I miss him terribly."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he chose to stay as a museum piece!" Pinkie joked. "He's old enough!"

"Remembering that the youngest operational engine we have on the island is over fourty, most of the engines are," Fluttershy noted, as she swapped the lamps around. "See you later!"

Unfortunately, Percy didn't set off on time. There was a fault with the signal that took several minutes to clear, and then he had to get water at Ellsbridge, which delayed him further still. All the while he continued to get more and more worried. "I can't be a really useful engine if I'm late!" he said. "What would Sir Toppham Hatt say?"

"There's lots of padding built into the timetable, so we just cut the stop at Ffarquhar short by a few minutes," Pinkie said. "Besides, we don't need to go any further than that, as the quarry is no longer a problem!"

Percy felt better after that. He ran much more smoothly. As he rolled into the platform at Ffarquhar, a foreman was waiting at the end of the platform.

"Sorry to bother you," he said, "but there's something we need your help with. The workmen need a ride home, so could you pick them up?"

"OK," said Percy, and he set off. As he puffed closer, he reached the bridge and rolled onto it. There was a loud creak, and a sudden groan.

"What was that?" asked Annie.

"I sounded like a creek!" said Clarabel.

"I believe you meant with an E and not an A," said Annie.

"It doesn't matter which spelling she meant, keep moving!" Pinkie shouted. "Don't stop, Percy! The bridge may give way at any moment, and that would spell doom for us!"

"I have no intention of stopping!" Percy cried.

"But doom isn't spelled using the same letters as the word 'creek', Annie said, confused.

Percy paid them no heed as he roared over the bridge. It continued to sway and groan, until moments after Clarabel's rear bogie had cleared the bridge, it collapsed into the stream with a crash.

Pinkie went back to look, and gasped. "The bridge is out!" she cried. "We're not going back today, that's for sure. I'll need to telephone back down the line for a rescue crewe, but my cell is out of range. Come on, we need to get to the quarry."

Upon arrival at the quarry, Pinkie telephoned the workmen, and Sir Toppham Hatt closed the line whilst a new bridge was installed, an all steel structure that was engineered to take forces far fiercer than any that the stream would provide. Eventually, operations returned to normal, with Toby going back to quarry work, Percy pulling passengers trains alongside Daisy, and Mavis shunting trucks. The bridge and the stream were a lot safer now, as most of the slush was gone and down in the sea, where it was somebody else's problem. Even so, Percy was extra careful when he crossed the bridge, as he recalled the time he nearly had an unexpected bath!

Toby's Megatrain

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Most days, Toby brought the stone trains down from Ffarquhar Quarry to Knapford Harbour. Despite the awkward trackwork around Knapford, he thought that the run was a wonderful treat, not to mention a good opportunity to stretch his wheels on a decent run. Percy struggled to understand why, so one morning he asked Toby a question.

"Toby?" he asked, as their fires slowly warmed their boilers. "Why do you enjoy the harbour runs so much? It's only to a harbour, after all!"

Toby smiled. "It reminds me of home, or rather my old home," he said. "Before I came to Sodor, I worked on the Wisbech and Upwell Tramway alongside my brothers and sisters. On the way to Wisbech North, there was a small yard next to a wharf, and we would often have to shunt trucks there, before setting off on our next duty. It provided a nice change every now and then from moving vans and coaches!"

Flash then arrived, and hopped onto Toby's footplate. "Good morning Toby!" he said. "Remembering the old days?"

"I am," Toby smiled. "As much as I am happy here, and aware that the old Wisbech and Upwell Tramway is no longer there, I do miss East Anglia."

"So do I," Flash admitted, as he opened Toby's regulator. "Come on, let's go. We need to get water at Ellsbridge as the standpipe here is out of action."

Toby, being a steam tram, only has a limited water supply. This wasn't a problem on the Wisbech and Upwell Tramway as there were water points at every station, but on Thomas' branchline there were not many water stops, as the line was normally operated by engines with larger water tanks. Toby did worry about water, concerned what would happen if he broke down. "What would happen if the water column at Ellsbridge is out of action?" he asked.

"If you're worried about getting fish in the tanks, don't worry," Flash smiled. "I'm not filling you up with a bucket! The solution would be to refill at Knapford Junction, or just drive very carefully until we get to the shed."

This made Toby feel much better. At Knapford Harbour, Toby was being used as a shunter. On some days, another engine brought the loaded stone trucks down and left them in the sidings for Toby to collect. Toby would then shunt them into the yard, and then the workmen would fill the trucks with other things that the ships brought in, including a cargo of fish left one time as a joke. Then, the other engine would come back with more full trucks and take the empties away. This process would repeat itself several times throughout the day.

But one day the other engine never came. "That's odd," Toby said. "Mavis isn't normally late. You don't think she got stuck in Discord's Dip again, do you?"

A few moments later, the harbour master ran over with a lobster sandwich in his hand and a piece of paper. "Sorry for the delay," he said. "Diamond Tiara phoned ahead. Mavis is having engine problems and may be a little while yet. Please wait patiently."

A few moments later, Mavis rattled in, her engine growling and roaring in a manner that it shouldn't have been. As she stopped in the yard, her engine gave up the ghost and stalled. "Oh dear," she said. "I've stopped."

Diamond Tiara hopped out and popped open the engine housing, to almost immediately be faced with a cloud of black smoke. "That's not good," she said. "Mavis is in no condition to operate, so I'm afraid I'll have to stay here and fix it. I swear it's that fuel the crew at the Shildon building project put in your tanks..."

Toby looked at the sidings in alarm. "We can't even think of putting the loaded wagons into the sidings!" he exclaimed. "They're still full of empty wagons!"

"And fourty eight of them too," Flash said. "It'll take forever to move this lot."

"Should we move all of them together?" Toby asked. "It'll save us a trip tomorrow."

"Are you sure you can pull all of that?" Flash asked, doubtfully. "Even empty trucks will be extremely heavy. Each of those wagons is 13 tons, which works out to 624 tons tare."

"We pulled a similar load on one of the Strawberry Specials back in the day," Toby recalled. "We can at least give it a good try."

Flash eventually agreed, and the heavy load set off back towards Ffarquhar Quarry. But Toby had forgotten two things. The first was that he only had a very limited water supply. The second was that the trip to Ffarquhar was uphill the entire way! Toby had to work incredibly hard to keep the train moving, and slowed to a crawl on the climb to Ellsbridge station. When he arrived, Flash jumped out, grabbed the pipe from the water tower, and ran it into his tanks, eventually turning the tap.

Nothing happened.

"The pipe's blocked!" Flash called.

"Oh no!" Toby cried. "I don't have enough water to pull this lot."

Flash put a hand to his chin. "I have an idea," he said. "We could leave the trucks here, work up to the next water point, and then come back for them."

"Like we did for the Strawberry Special!" Toby smiled. "Where is the next water point?"

"The river," Flash smiled. "I'll get my bucket."

"What?" Toby exclaimed. "You said-"

Flash facepalmed. "That was a joke, Toby!"

Toby shunted the trucks into a siding and was soon on his way to Ffarquhar. He made it with only 10 gallons left, and was soon refilled so he could work back down the line. Percy had wanted to help, but Pinkie reminded him they had their own trains to pull. Toby rolled back down the line and was soon coupled up to the trucks. With a loud roar and blasts of steam, he started off up the hill, steam pouring into the sky. People from all around came to watch the spectacle, and the tram engine sure was a sight to see, working incredibly hard on the grade.

And I'm proud to say that he got all 624 tons to the quarry without stalling, too!

Thomas Comes Home

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Workmen were mending the road at the level crossing at Hackenbeck. In order to ensure that their work could proceed without interruption, they sectioned off the road with a series of cones. Then, once the area was sectioned off, they brought in a steamroller to flatten down the road surface. I imagine you all know who this steamroller was. It was George, and he was just as bad tempered as ever. He still held is disdain for railways, despite having been stolen and used to try and smash buffers, and as he chuffed up and down he said his old refrain. "Railways are no good!" he thundered. "Turn them into roads! Railways are no good! Turn them into roads!"

"Nonsense," said Daisy. "The roads that run up into the top of the valley are very poor and can easily get blocked by snow and ice. How would people get to their homes in that set of circumstances without the railway?"

"Erm, driving there, you doofus?" Cozy Glow suggested. She was still George's operator, and I am sorry to say her tendancy to be annoying was still there in full force.

"Besides, we'd just tear up your rails and lay a dual carriageway along the alignment," George said, with a snort. "Absolutely nothing to it. And I wouldn't have to deal with narrow gauge engines trying to race me, either. It's not like we haven't done it before! Look at the Heads of the Valleys road!"

Daisy, worried, told Percy and Toby about what had happened. "A load of stuff and nonsense!" said Percy. "I know that will never happen."

"Sir Toppham Hatt would never scrap us!" said Toby. "Not only are we antiques, we're the prime draw for visitors to the Island. Besides, what would he do if one of those annoying diesels failed and there was nothing to sub in for them, eh?"

Daisy was reassured, but was very careful to avoid upsetting George, just in case. Thankfully, something happened that made them forget all about George's antics.

One morning, Daisy was waiting at the junction for the local service to arrive. As she waited, the station master walked over with a letter and knocked on the window.

Trixie rolled the window down. "Good morrow, fine sir!" she said. "Pray tell, what is this news for me?"

The station master blinked. "OK. I have received this letter from the National Railway Museum. Thomas is coming home very soon, and we're to help holding a special celebration here, at Knapford Junction."

"What splendid news!" Trixie cried. "The Grrreat and Powerrful Trrrrrrrrixie will do all in her power to help!" With that, she sounded Daisy's horn, and off they went.

"Wait! The local isn't here yet!"

Later on, Daisy told George what she had been told. "Listen, George," she boasted. "The station at the junction is going up market! Tomorrow, I am collecting the passengers of the entire valley, so we can stage a son et lumiere at Knapford Junction, as they call it du continent, as a special treat for Thomas' return!"

"And the Grrreat and Powerrful Trrrrrrrrixie will also perrrrrforrrrrrm magic!" Trixie said.

"Is she buffering?" asked Cozy Glow, as Daisy rolled away.

"Beats me," said George. "Besides, I have absolutely no idea what Daisy was talking about."

"Neither did I," Cozy Glow admitted, and they went back to work.

At long last the day arrived. Toby and Percy took Annie, Clarabel, and Henrietta to the junction, and Daisy was to arrive last, carrying the guards, the porters, and the stationmaster's daughters. No, that's not quite right. She was to transport the station masters, Mr and Mrs Kyndley, and a lot of other important people to Knapford Junction in anticipation of Thomas' return. Daisy had a fairly easy run down from Ffarquhar, and she pulled up to Hackenbeck to pick up the station master (or rather, the last person to have been station master before the station became an unstaffed halt). Before them, within the crosssing barriers, were a pair of cones. There was no sign of either George of Cozy Glow.

The guard sounded the in cab buzzer, and Trixie acknowledged it. "Next stop, Knapford Junction!" she called.

Daisy sounded her horn and moved off. "Here we go!" she said. But just as she rolled onto the level crossing, it happened. A gust of wind lifted one of the cones into the air, and blew it under her wheels. There was a crunch, a rumble, and then Daisy stopped. "Ouch! What happened?"

Trixie stopped the engine and hopped down to take a look. She manually opened the brake block with one of her tools, and removed a piece of cone that had gotten wedged in the brake pad. "This is bad," she said. "That cone got wedged in the brake rigging, which is now stuck in the on position. We'll need to get these brakes freed if we're going to move off again."

"And we'll be late too!" Daisy complained. "Why can't that stupid steamroller clean up after himself? I bet he did this on purpose, you know! You know how much he hates railways!"

"It can't be helped," Trixie said. "I'll fix this lot." You knew she was serious if she'd dropped her habit of speaking in the third person, and she set about releasing the brakes. It took them a while, but eventually they got the brakes free, and roared down the line at incredible speed.

Daisy roared into the bay platform at Knapford Junction and stopped, her doors flying open to let the passengers off. "Oh no!" she said, seeing the crowds on the platform. "We're too late! The crowds are cheering for Thomas!"

"No they aren't!" said Trixie. "It's us! We have made it in the nick of time!"

Just then, the station telegram buzzed, and the signal arm dropped. Thomas the Tank Engine steamed out of the tunnel as the brass band began to play a specially composed tune.

"It's Thomas the Tank Engine!" called a child.

"Hip hip hip hip hooray!" said another.

Thomas rolled to a stop at the platform with a smile. "Well," he said. "I'm back."

"Welcome home, Thomas!" said Sir Toppham Hatt. "We are all relieved to see you have returned home safely, and are well. You have done some brave things these last few weeks, and you can tell us all about them. But first, three cheers for Thomas, our Number One Tank Engine! Hip hip!"

"Hooray!"

"Hip hip!"

"Hooray!"

"Hip hip!"

"Hooray!"

And all was happy on the Island of Sodor. Although travelling is always fun, I am reliably informed by Judy Garland that 'there's no place like home'.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YKVB78e8Gtg

Interlude 2

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https://youtu.be/lU4fLijCtIM

Now that Thomas is back home on Sodor, things can, in a sense, return to normal. In this next set of stories, Stepney stands up for himself, Edward meets an old friend thought long gone, and a new visitor arrives on the Island, with exciting stories to tell. We will also return to the Skarloey Railway to see what the little engines have been doing.

Apology Impossible

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One morning, as had become something of a ritual for them, Stepney and Sweetie Belle were at work at Tidmouth Harbour. They had several trains to assemble for the day, and the first train was for James. This train consisted largely of conflats, which were empty of course, and were all going to Vicarstown for transit to the mainland. Sweetie Belle was currently uncoupling Stepney from the train. "What a lovely morning!" she said. "The sky is red, and the sun is a nice complement to the cloud layer."

"I'm not so sure," said Stepney. "Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in the morning, sailor's warning. Doesn't bode well."

"I guess not," Sweetie Belle sighed. "Oh well. Just one more wagon to go and we can take a tea break! The conflat we need is the one over there."

A loud puffing could be heard in the distance as a familar red engine rolled into the harbour approaches. He was approaching at the safe speed limit of 15 miles per hour, but James wasn't keeping a proper eye on where he was going. "Hereeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee's Jame- LOOK OUT!"

Rarity leaned out of the cab and gasped. "Oh dear," she said, and slammed the brakes on. James stopped, but too late. He crashed into the conflat and sent a pot of oil flying through the air that splattered onto Stepney's side tank and all over his brake pump.

"Yuck!" Stepney exclaimed. "I hope none of that gets in the working parts."

Sweetie Belle sprinted over, and gasped. "What happened?"

"James entered the yard going altogether too fast. That is what happened," said Stepney, looking glum.

"I am dreadfully sorry," Rarity replied. "I must have misjudged the stopping distance."

James, however, was busy fawning over his paint. "Some of the oil got on my paintwork," he moaned.

"No it didn't!" Sweetie Belle exclaimed.

"Besides, I'm the one you should be apologising to," Stepney said, giving more than a subtle hint.

James, however, took no heed, and moved forward to couple onto the train. "Move that last conflat for me and we'll be good to go!"

Stepney simmered crossly, but went and got the last truck and the brake van into place. As James pulled away, he glanced about to see if anybody else had witnessed the incident. "Let's hope somebody saw that," he said.

"It was clearly an accident," Sweetie Belle sighed, trying to reassure him. "We have a short break before we're needed again, so I'll clean you up and get you looking good as new."

Stepney smiled at that.

A few hours later, it was time for him to fill up his tanks, so he went to a nearby water tower to fill up. Inexplicably, however, he found James was already there, filling up as well.

"Are you going to be long?" Stepney asked. "My tanks are almost empty!"

"A really splendid engine needs water more than you do! You're just a common tank engine!" James replied. "Besides, some of the water could be used for washing!"

"Honestly, James!" Rarity said, fiddling with the tap. "You know that the use of water from a water tower for cleaning purposes is strictly against rules and regulations. And without those rules and regulations, where would we be now?"

After sitting there for a few minutes, the big red engine was finally done, and he moved off for his next job. Stepney then rolled forward to the water column, and Sweetie Belle dropped the pipe in and turned the handle.

No water came.

"Seriously?" Stepney asked. "Why is there no water? Did James use it all?"

"One moment," Sweetie Belle said. "Something seems to be stuck. Rarity seems to have been leaning on it to apply water pressure, so..."

Suddenly, water thundered through the pipes and into the water tanks, before slopping out of the top of the tank and spilling everywhere. There was water on the track. There was water on the ballast. There was water all over Stepney and Sweetie Belle. The only place there wasn't water was in the water tower.

"At least it washed the oil off!" Stepney joked.

Sweetie Belle, however, was drenched from head to toe in water. "OH COME ON!"

Later that day, she exchanged her wet clothes for some spare ones Apple Bloom loaned her, and was ready for work once more. "Let's see, the manifest says we are to take some empty bloater vans to Tidmouth yard and then take some other things back to the harbour. Sounds simple enough!"

Stepney reversed up the line to the siding where the vans were. The vans were normally used to carry fish on the Flying Kipper, and as a result were very smelly. "I hope they don't stink this badly normally!" Stepney said. "Duck normally handles the shunting of these!"

"Possibly because he's more powerful!" Sweetie Belle said. "But I think two or three is well within our remit. Hopefully we'll be on passenger duties tomorrow!"

"Now there's something to look forward to!" Stepney smiled. He was coupled up, and set off down the line. He then came to a problem. Normally, the approaches to the harbour are double track. However, the Down line was currently out of action so that repair work could be done. Stepney pulled up at the signal box and whistled, as per instructions.

"There you are!" said the signalman. "I'm giving you the single line token. Remember to request permission to pass the signal at danger, and you can safely proceed." He handed a small metal token to Sweetie Belle.

"Thank you, single line token is in possession. Moving forward now." The small Terrier and his driver moved forward and into the single line section. All was going fine, when they suddenly saw James rolling through the same section at speed!

"Peep peep! Stop!" he whistled. He slammed his brakes on and came to a complete stop, just as James did himself. Both engines looked up at one another, and looked rather annoyed.

"What are you doing here?" James asked.

"I could ask you the same question!" Stepney replied. "Why are you in a single line section with no token?"

"Token?" James said. "An engine as splendid as me shouldn't need a token!"

Sweetie Belle hopped out of the cab and waved the token in his face. "This little metal thing ring a bell? We're the only ones permitted in this section!"

Rarity finally chimed in. "That's odd. The signal was green!"

"That signal's been faulty all day!" Stepney said. "There's instructions in the morning briefing to treat it as red unless told otherwise!"

"That doesn't change the fact that we're blocking the lines!" James snapped. "Now one of us will need to back up!"

"Indeed," Stepney said, looking crosser than ever. "And that'll be you... after you've apologised for being a complete twit today!"

"Why should I apologise for anything? I've done nothing wrong!"

"Oh yes you have," said Stepney.

"Oh no I haven't," said James.

"Oh yes you have," said Stepney.

"Oh no I haven't," said James.

"When did this turn into a pantomime?" Rarity asked.

"Firstly," Stepney interrupted, "you failed to apologise for approaching too fast and splattering oil everywhere. Second, you failed to apologise for hogging all the water and then getting us wet. And now you're in violation of railway safety rules!"

James looked down. "When you put it that way... I'll reverse to get out of your way. I really am a silly engine."

James rolled back into his own section, and Stepney waited for him to finish. Once he was out of the way, he went onwards with his train, whistling as he passed by.

Later that day, as Stepney was being put back in the shed, James rolled into another berth. "Hello Stepney," he said. "I want to apologise for how I acted today. I really should take more care."

"It's OK," Stepney smiled, as both engines watched the sun descending through the sky. "Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in the morning, sailor's warning. The sunset's around here are beautiful, aren't they?"

"Can we start on a clean slate?" James asked.

"Of course we can," Stepney replied.

"Oh, and Sweetie Belle? Sorry about causing the water tower malfunction," Rarity said. "The water flow wasn't quite right, but I have good news. Your normal clothes have come back from the laundry, and you won't need to wear Apple Bloom's spares tomorrow."

"Thanks," Sweetie Belle said, as the two siblings sat down and watched the sunset. "Fancy some fish and chips?"

"What a marvellous idea!"

Overloaded

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It was a difficult time on Thomas' branchline. Thomas had developed a fault shortly after his return from the National Railway Museum, and had to go to the works to be mended. This meant that, much like previous times, only Toby, Percy, and Daisy were handling business, with talk of another engine to join them at some point. Bertie helped out as best he could, but he couldn't get everywhere. As he was not a four wheel drive vehicle, he couldn't go into the quarry and had to drop the quarry workers off at the edge of the premises. Which left the workmen with a two mile walk there and back. This wasted time.

"This is getting ridiculous, Flash!" Toby complained. "There is no safe way that we can carry all of these workers in one carriage! It's standing room only in there as it is, and we still have people to get onboard!"

"I know," Flash mused, as he put his hand to his chin. "We could do with another coach, but Annie and Clarabel are too heavy for you to pull alongside Henrietta, and there aren't any other Wisbech and Upwell verandah coaches in existence. We really could do with another four wheel coach."

"Can you all please stop trying to get onboard?" asked Henrietta. "I won't be able to move if any more of you clamber on!"

"You have no propulsion, so you wouldn't be able to move anyway," grumbled a workman. "We can't move either, in case you're wondering. We're squished in like sardines here!"

"Use the balconies!" shouted another, and the workmen scrambled onto those. Soon even those were full, and Henrietta was dangerously overloaded.

"This is worse than a London commuter train," grumbled Flash. He heard the guard blow the whistle, and the train set off for Ffarquhar quarry.

It proved to be incredibly slow going. All of those passengers crammed onto the coach meant that Toby had to work incredibly hard to move. He crawled along the branch line at what seemed like walking pace, and rolled through stations at a snail's pace. People turned out to look at this strange sight, but Toby rang his bell cheerfully and tried to keep going.

As he approached Hackenbeck, he looked around for cones. Daisy had been damaged by an impact with an errant cone here that had been left by a group of careless workmen, and he was keen to prevent the same happening. However, as he approached the gates, which had just started to close, a car suddenly floored its accelerator and sped through, trying to beat the train.

Flash slammed the brakes on and brought Toby to a full emergency stop. "What an idiot!" he shouted. "Those cars should know better! Don't they know that cars will always come off worse in a collision with a train?"

The stop also had a domino effect within Henrietta as the workmen were squeezed against one another. They eventually leaned into Henrietta's front balcony, which bent, but luckily did not break.

"OI, YOU!" shouted a familiar voice. Pedalling towards them was a certain policeman. He wrote something down in his notebook and then disappeared off into the distance.

"There goes trouble," said Toby. "I don't think that policeman likes us."

"You don't say!" Flash sighed. "Ever since we started working the line he's been scrutinising us for any conceivable slip up. He really doesn't like us, one bit."

A few days later, Sir Toppham Hatt got a visit from the Chief Constable for Sodor. "Good morning, sir," the Constable said.

"Good morning," Sir Toppham Hatt said in response. "Is something the matter?"

"Indeed," said the Constable. "I received a report that one of your trains was operating with passengers on the balcony of the railway carriages. The Light Rail Act of 1896 expressly prohibits the transportation of passengers on the balconies of railway carriages."

"Oh dear," said Sir Toppham Hatt. "That was rather unfortunate. Normally, quarry work is supported by a bus, but that had broken down. It won't happen again, sir."

"Please do see to it that it doesn't happen again," the Constable finished, sternly. "You narrowly avoided a nasty accident when a car jumped the crossing gates."

Once the Constable had left, Sir Toppham Hatt picked up his telephone.

"Applejack here, how can Ah help ya?"

"Hello Applejack!" said Sir Toppham Hatt. "Can you and Edward help out on Thomas' branch line for a bit? We're one engine short and need some help. There's supposed to be another engine and a coach arriving from the mainland soon, which should take some pressure off."

"No problem sir!"

Edward worked on the Ffarquhar Branchline for a few days, enjoying the change of scenery. As he was a little more powerful than most of the engines on the branch, he could pull more coaches, which temporarily solved the issue with overcrowding. One morning, Edward was waiting at the junction for James to arrive, when he suddenly heard a whistle from the other direction.

"Did you hear that, Applejack?" he asked. "That sounded like a whistle!"

"Sure did, Eddie," Applejack said, eating an apple as she did so. "But Ah don't think any trains are due through yet."

Suddenly, the whistle boomed through the valley, and an engine steamed into view. He was the oldest engine that Edward or anybody had ever seen. He was painted a deep maroon livery that looked almost ochre when viewed in the wrong light, and a tall dome right up next to his chimney, which was very tall, like a chimney on an old mill. He had a brass band of metal running around his firebox, an open cab with windows and protection at both ends, and a small lined tender rattling along behind him. The sides of his boiler bore the marking Furness Railway 20. Rattling behind the tender was two coaches, both painted blue with white window lining.

The train rolled to a stop in the platform. "Well, that was a challenging journey up from Preston!" said the engine.

Edward's eyes widened in amazement. "Albert!" he said. "You survived!"

"As did Victoria and Helena," the old engine smiled, his moustache bristling as he spoke. "Hello Edward. You don't look a day over 119."

"Do you two know each other?" Applejack asked.

"We do indeed!" Edward said. "This is Albert. I knew him back in the days I worked on the Furness Railway, when I was painted red. Those two coaches are Helena and Victoria, whom I worked with sometimes on the Lakeside Branch."

"That's now a preserved railway," said another voice, and a woman dressed in a boilersuit stepped off the footplate. She looked to be rather old, with purple, wrinkled skin and hair a dull grey that seemed to collect oddly atop her head. Her blue eyes looked about her, with a degree of concern. "I do say, Albert, I hope they have the facilities to maintain an engine of your age."

"You're not exactly a spring chicken yourself," Albert replied. "This is my driver, Madeleine, or as some call her, Mistmane. Reportedly she used to have quite a flowing head of hair, but not these days!"

"Old?" Mistmane replied. "I've have you know I'm only 60!"

They all had a good laugh, before Edward spoke. "I imagine we want to catch up, but I have a train to pull, and that means I'll be busy for a bit. Catch you later!" And he puffed away, happy that a piece of his old railway had survived into preservation.

Avalanche

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Being two engines from the same railway company, Edward and Albert got along splendidly. Both engines handled their fair share of the work, although Albert had to work more carefully due to his great age and older parts (whereas Edward had had most of his replaced very recently). Life was certainly running smoothly on the Ffarquhar Branch Line, and everybody was happy. The trucks even stopped grumbling, which was quite the achievement.

One morning, Edward and Victoria were catching up on old times. "So, what happened whilst I was working on Sodor?" Edward asked.

"A lot happened between 1915 and now," Victoria replied. "Myself and many similar coaches passed into the ownership of the LMS, but it wasn't long before we were replaced with newer rolling stock. Instead of breaking us up for spares or, worse, scrap, most of us were sold for use in other places. I, for example, was lifted off my wheels, put in a field near Grange over Sands, and became a summer house. This was back in the day before Grange over Sands became a major spot for people to go to the seaside, but I certainly can remember seeing trains flying back and forth between Cark and Hincaster, loaded with passengers and goods. I wonder if the old ironworks is still there? Anyways, I was eventually saved by a group of nice men from the Lakeside and Haverthwaite Railway, who restored me, redid my seating and upholstery, mounted me on a new set of wheels, and even updated my couplings so I could work with modern engines!"

"That must have been a splendid sight to see," Edward said.

"When did Albert get there?" Applejack asked. "Ah looked him up, and noticed he didn't return ta steam until 1998."

Just then, Albert rolled back into the shed, his cylinder cocks blowing steam as he came to a stop. "Perfectly executed stop!" he said. "I must say, these continous brakes are a most marvellous invention!"

"Possibly the most important development in railway safety, apart from the introduction of Automatic Warning System," Mistmane noted, as she slid down the cab steps and went over to lubricate Albert's parts.

"The last time I saw you was in 2000 something," said Edward. "Has anything interesting happened since then?"

"Mistmane and I have seen a lot," Albert replied. "I was built in 1863 for passenger trains, but was soon rendered too small for those. I soon became too weak for goods trains as well! I was then rebuilt as a saddle tank, and worked at a steelworks for 90 years, being withdrawn in 1960. It was sold to a school, and sat in a playground for decades until I was bought in 1983, taken to Carnforth, and restored to a tender engine once more. It's good to have all that weight off my boiler."

"We certainly have quite a few interesting stories from the Lakeside and Haverthwaite, if you'd like to hear them," Mistmane said.

"Lakeside and where now?" Applejack asked.

"Not far from Cark," Albert explained, "a line went off that passed through Greenodd, looped through some hills, and went through a tunnel into a station called Haverthwaite. The line then went to another tunnel, and rolled through a cutting and along a river bank, until it reached a station next to a big lake, called Windermere. This station was called, to nobody's surprise, Lakeside, and people got off there to transfer to the cruise ships that sailed off to the town of Windermere at the other end of the lake. But that only happened in summer and autumn, otherwise the line was quiet."

"The line closed in 1967," Mistmane continued, "but a group of determined volunteers reopened the line between Lakeside and Haverthwaite, and operate it as a tourist attraction to this day. This incident occurred back in the late 1990s, when Albert and I were new to the railway...


Lakeside Station, 1999.

It was a bitterly cold day. The wind howled, and huge snowdrifts had piled up near the line and in the cuttings. The terrain was tough, but the sky was clear and bright, so there were no visibility issues. Mistmane finished doing some checks on Albert and then adjusted her snow goggles.

"What do you need those for?" called the guard, a woman with orange skin, purple eyes, and two tone purple hair. "We're not going skiing!"

"We may be, Sable, at the rate the weather is going," Mistmane replied. "The snow is a lot heavier around Haverthwaite."

"True," Sable Spirit replied. "I'll see if there are any more passengers, then we'll set off."

A few minutes later, she blew her whistle, and the train set off. It proved to be an easier run than Mistmane had anticipated to Haverthwaite, as the snow was firmly staying on top of the valley and not falling into it. They arrived at Haverthwaite, and she uncoupled Albert to run him round.

"Here we go!" she called, and pulled on the whistle chord.

Albert puffed forward, producing a giant jet of steam as he moved off. This proved to be mistake. The force of the exhaust dislodged a mass of snow from the tunnel mouth, and it fell on top of Albert and around him, pinning him in place.

"Hoosh!" he hissed. "I wasn't expecting that!" He then saw somebody sniggering. "Stop laughing! It's not funny!"

Mistmane was quick to shut off steam, and dashed down the platform for a shovel. Working together, she and Sable Spirit worked for the rest of the day to dig Albert out. Another engine had to work the train topped and tailed with yet another, as the runround loop at Haverthwaite was blocked. Albert was finally out by the very next morning. But he was very cold, and very sad. "To get stuck in a snowdrift," he said. "Think of the inconvenience it caused the passengers."

"You're safe, and so are they, and that's all that matters," Mistmane smiled. "Now come on, off to the shed. Sable and I shall clean you up, and give you a fresh coat of paint. That'll cheer you up, I reckon."


"In short," Albert said. "Never mess with snow, as it can cause all sorts of problems."

"If only somebody had told Thomas that before he went into that snowdrift!" Edward laughed.

There was a moment's silence. "Who's Thomas?"

Eels on Wheels

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Summer is always the worst time of year for steam, and this year was no exception. British summers are characterised by long periods of very dry weather with little rain, and a few weeks in June and July where the temperatures and humidity match (and sometimes exceed) those of Florida. The lack of rain makes the lineside vegetation extremely dry indeed, and sparks from a steam engine's funnel can ignite a fire if the crew are not careful. As a consequence, some days had to be operated using diesel traction, and today was one such day. Daisy rolled down the branch line with the passengers onboard. It was an incredibly hot day, and the passengers had rolled down the windows to let some fresh air in.

"I'm glad they're using MK2s out on the main line!" called a passenger. "Those have air conditioning!"

Daisy paid no notice to the conversations going on. For a few days now, she had noticed strange creatures basking on the lineside, taking in the summer sun. However, whenever she got close, they would vanish into the undergrowth, hiding from view. "How on Earth do those things move about?" she asked Trixie at the next station. "They have no legs!"

"Neither do you!" Trixie laughed. "They are grass snakes. They move by wriggling their bodies."

"How clever," Daisy said, as Percy rattled in with a goods train. He had a spark arrestor fitted to his chimney, and looked extremely silly. "Oh, hello Percy! Trixie was just telling me about these grass snakes. They're very clever and move by wriggling their bodies!"

"They sound scary," said Percy, looking at the floor.

"Don't worry!" Pinkie said, putting a soda to her lips and starting to drink. "They're completely harmless! Besides, we're more of a threat to them than they are to us!"

Percy looked noticably relieved, and puffed away. Now that the line was clear, Daisy finished her journey to Ffarquhar station, and Trixie switched ends to the rear cab. This was done so she could see where the train was going, but Daisy had the rather odd experience of watching the world whistling away from her instead of towards her.

"Excuse me?" called the station master. "Can you take a delivery for us?"

"Of course!" Trixie replied. "The grrrrrrreat and powerful Trixie and the grrrrrrrrrrrrrreat and powerful Daisy are more than happy to oblige!"

"Excellent," the station master continued. "A shipment of boxes has just arrived from a local farm, and needs to be taken to Knapford Junction. According to the owner, the boxes contain live eels."

"What are eels?" asked Daisy. "I've never seen nor heard of an eel!"

"An eel is a real delicacy," Trixie explained, as she changed the headcode box to indicate the number of the return branch train (2B24). "They are often eaten as part of posh meals at high end restaurants."

"Yes, but what is an eel?" Daisy asked again. "Telling me that people eat them is not very helpful, especially given people also eat plants."

"Ooh!" Trixie smiled. "Well, an eel is rather like a water snake. It's a ray finned fish that belongs to the family Anguilliformes, and contains eight suborders, 11 families, 111 genera, and more than 800 different species!"

Daisy smiled. "Thank you for the information dump. I daresay that Twilight has rubbed off on you! I wouldn't be at all surprised if she told you that."

"Trixie does not do 'Twilighting'," Trixie said. "Besides, Twilight is still at the works helping with Thomas' overhaul, so she could hardly be here!"

The boxes were being carefully stacked on the platform so they could be loaded into a van, which was normally used for moving milk churns. The stack of boxes were now next to the platform, and right where Daisy could see them.

Suddenly, a small boy ran down the platform.

"No running on the platform!" shouted the Station Master. "You'll cause an accident!"

The boy paid him no attention, but caught the top box with his arm. It fell off the stack and burst on the track below. Eels wriggled about on the track like worms, trying to get free and wriggle into the undergrowth.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Daisy cried. "Help!"

The Station Master and Trixie ran over. The Station Master was very cross. "Look what you've done, you stupid boy!" he snapped at the child. "Get as many staff over here as we can! We need to get this mess cleaned up!"

The Guard and the Porter hopped down with a bucket, loading the eels into nice water. Daisy continued to look on in disgust. "I must say that these small creatures are very odd indeed."

"They can't harm you!" said Trixie. "Besides, you've stalled as is. You're more of a danger to the eels than they are to you!"

"Rather like those snakes, then," Daisy said. She was beginning to feel very silly indeed. Trixie tried to get her engine started again and put her back into gear, but it rapidly proved to be a fool's errand. The equipment was stuck so badly they would need to look at it at the shed. Edward had to come up and work her train instead, which was by now very, very late. Toby had the 'honour' of towing Daisy back to the sheds for maintenance. When they arrived, Percy was there, and Toby told him all that had happened.

"So, Daisy freaked out at the sight of wriggly things, eh?" Percy laughed. "I thought she wasn't scared of anything!"

"So did I," Toby laughed. For much of the rest of the night, the pair made a lot of jokes with bad eel themed puns, which Daisy found most annoying.

"Could you please stop with the puns?" she asked. "It's getting eely annoying."

"It's funny you should mention such a place," said Toby. His mouth was now a smirk. "Only 47 miles away from where my old railway met the mainline, there's a town called Ely! It has a nice cathedral and everything!"

That was the last thing Daisy wanted to think about.

Toby's Vintage Train

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Sir Toppham Hatt arrived at the sheds one morning to find Victoria and Albert being prepared for duty. "Good morning, you two!" he said. "I have some good news. Thomas is coming back from the works soon, and we soon will be back at full capacity. I would like you two to help out for a little longer; Edward, you can take Victoria out with your trains, and Albert can help with shunting at the harbour."

Edward's heart fell. He had enjoyed working with Albert, Victoria, and Mistmane, and knew that he would miss them very much. But orders were orders, and he backed onto Victoria and puffed away onto the mainline, rattling down the line with his wheels clattering and the coaches rolling behind him.

Albert sighed. "I'll miss Edward when we go back to Lakeside," he admitted. "This is such a lovely island, and I get nice long runs on this branch line too!"

"I'm certain that they'll let us visit from time to time," Mistmane reassured him. "Besides, the Fairburn tank will soon be running again at Haverthwaite, so I think we may be doing a lot of visits to other railways!"

"That is most certainly true," Albert smiled. "I guess it's not all bad after all."

After a few hours, Thomas returned to Knapford Junction and rolled into a siding, seeing Edward waiting there with Annie, Clarabel, and another coach he didn't recognise. "Hello!" he said. "Who's the coach there? The one in cream and white?"

"Hello!" said the coach. "I'm Victoria. I arrived with the visiting engine whilst you were at the works being mended."

"She does look smart," Twilight said. "Annie and Clarabel could do with a new coat of paint, to be honest."

"Annie and Clarabel are fine the way they are!" said Thomas. "They're my coaches, and I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. Not even Chinese coaches who look suspiciously like LBSC four wheelers!"

Thomas was attached to the train, three coaches strong, and blew his whistle.

"Good luck, Thomas!" called Sir Toppham Hatt, who stood on the platform. "Go easy today; you've just come back from the works, and we hardly want to have to do that all over again!"

"I will, thank you sir!" Thomas called, as he went on his merry way. He puffed up the line, towns and villages soon giving way to rolling fields and gentle streams. Rivers bubbled underneath bridges and people lined the lineside, looking at the rather odd train rumbling past. Many cheered and waved. A group of boys who entertained the thought of dropping stones on the track were soon dissuaded when a passer by reminded them of a similar group who had been on the receiving end of Henry's sneeze.

They were going splendidly, and rolled along the line making a beautiful sight and sound. But trouble lay ahead. As they rounded a bend, they saw Big Mac standing at the lineside. "Hello?" he called. "Could Ah have some help please?"

"Of course!" said Twilight.

"Terence has gotten into trouble up ahead. Farmer Finney's buildin' a new barn, and naturally we were helpin', but Terence got into trouble on the road near the cuttin'."

"What was he pulling?" Thomas asked.

"Stone fer the barn," Big Mac replied. "But it weren't secured properly, and it may fall into the cuttin'!"

"Hop aboard, and we'll help," said Twilight. Big Mac did so, and the train set off once more towards the end of the line. They went into a tunnel, and squeaked through the fu- no, that's not quite right. Sorry. They puffed through the tunnel, and sure enough there was the trailer. A large boulder had fallen into the road, and Terence had swerved to avoid it. Unfortunately, the boulders had fallen out of the trailer, tumbled down the side of the cutting, and were now piled up in a cluttered heap at the side of the line.

"Sorry," said Terence, who was sat on the lineside. "I tried to hold the trailer, but the hook broke!"

"It weren't yer fault, Terence," Big Mac told him. "But we need ta get this mess cleared. Ah'll secure the trailer so it won't fall."

Twilight checked the stones hadn't damaged the line, and then telephoned back to the box to let them know what had happened. The train then proceeded up the line to Ffarquhar, where Toby and Henrietta were waiting. "Hello Thomas!" called Toby. "Have a nice trip?"

"I'm just here to drop off Victoria!" Thomas replied. "You said you needed an extra coach, didn't you? Well, for today only, you have your extra coach."

"We have another spare four wheeler being shipped over from the Mainland," Sir Toppham Hatt told them. "It's currently being refurbished at Havenstreet on the Isle of Wight. Until then, you will work with Victoria, and from tomorrow a brake van. But I cannot think of many railways that can run authentic vintage trains such as Toby, Henrietta, and Victoria!"

"Even if only for one day," Flash admitted. "Right, away we go!" He rang Toby's bell 'bye bye', and off they went. They had a series of lovely runs back and forth along the quarry line that day, days that would forever stick in the memories of those who witnessed such a marvellous sight.

Unsurprisingly, everybody was said the next day when Albert, Victoria, and Mistmane had to return home. Their train was fully prepared, and they set off down the line, Albert puffing loudly as he steamed away, and all the engines whistling him goodbye. Albert continued to puff loudly and sound his whistle long after he had rounded the bend and vanished out of sight.

Moments later, Stepney rattled in, towing a four wheel coach. "Here's your coach!" he called. "Freshly sprung and overhauled!"

Toby was happy to have gotten a new coach in the end, but missed Victoria. Even so, he knew not to be sad because it was over, but to smile because it had happened.

If you enjoyed these stories, you may want to consider a visit to the Isle of Wight Steam Railway when this pandemic is over.

Henry and the Stainmore Engine

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It was another early morning on Sodor, and the engines were all being prepared for duty. Fires were lit, ashpans were checked to ensure they were clear of any debris and unwanted rubbish, and all seemed ready to go about and start their days.

Henry yawned as the warmth from his fire spread through his boiler, radiating out of the firebox and through his tubes (thankfully, his boiler did have water in it, or else it would have been a very short working day indeed). "What a lovely morning!" he said, as he looked out over the horizon. "I must say Fluttershy, this is a very lovely day. I wonder what work we'll be doing today?"

"I imagine it'll be really fun," Fluttershy replied, as she checked his water gauge glass and oil feed valve. "But I have a few more things I need to do before we are ready to go."

"Oiling him round may be a good start!" Rainbow Dash called. "Gordon needed a few tweaks here and there for oiling purposes."

"Y'all think that's hard?" Applejack asked. "Try lubricatin' an engine who has all his movin' parts on the inside."

"Darling, Jamesy has all his parts on the inside," Rarity said. "I know exactly how you feel. As magnificent as steam engines are, they are a real pain to keep working sometimes!"

"You do know we can hear you, right?" said James.

Twilight grinned as Thomas finally got up to operating pressure. "Perfect!" she said. "We're reading 150 PSI on the pressure gauge, steam is building nicely, and we're ready for duty. Now I just need to pop over and get my orders for the day."

Just then, a car pulled up, and Sir Toppham Hatt got out, speaking on a mobile phone. It could be inferred that the call had started after he had finished driving, or failing that he had a hands free headset which he had just disconnected. "No, Mother! The petunias are not in the back door closet! No, not the- are you even listening to a word I'm saying?"

There was what sounded like angry shouting at the other end.

"No, I can't come back home right now! I'm doing my job at the moment, and I need to be able to focus on running a railway!"

Some more angry speech.

"Don't try that 'I'm the adult' nonsense on me. I'm an adult too, and have lived and worked succesfully on my own for nearly 30 years now. Please stop interfering in my life."

The next words the other person said were audible. "You had better watch that to-"

Then the call ended. Sir Toppham Hatt had hit the red button mid sentence. "That's a vast improvement. Sorry, everybody, that was my mother, who very much subscribes to the school of calling her family members at inconvenient times. Now then, I imagine you all need your manifests for the day." He handed out several clipboards, each colour coded to match the engines.

"Pinkie," said Fluttershy, "I think that clipboard was meant for me. Percy isn't powerful enough to move empty stock to Tidmouth docks."

Pinkie closely studied the clipboard. "Oh! Oopsies!" She headed off with the right one. "Are you sure Edward is meant to be pulling the express, rather than Geoffrey?"

"Who's Geoffrey?" asked Gordon, confused.

"I think we all have the right orders now," said Thomas. "Let's go!"

All of the engines rolled forward.

"One at a time on the turntable!" said James. "Splendid engines first!"



Several minutes of confusion passed, but thankfully without any delay, and Henry set off with a line of empty tanker cars to Tidmouth docks. On his way, he passed Murdoch starting off with a long, heavy train bound for Vicarstown. "Hello Henry!" he called. "There's a new engine at the docks! I think he's here to help for a bit!"

"We sure have a busy summer season!" Vinyl Scratch added. "I don't think I brought enough music with me!"

"Turn the racket down and focus on the road!" Murdoch said. "You're giving me a headache. Honestly, one of the girls on that mountain railway is just as bad..."

Henry looked around him in surprise. "New engine? Sir Toppham Hatt didn't say anything about a new engine! Perhaps it is this Geoffrey that Gordon mentioned!"

"I don't know any Geoffrey's," said Fluttershy, as they rolled into the dock limits. Stepney was already waiting there for them.

"Hello!" he called. "Just leave the tankers there and I'll sort them out for loading. You can have a rest at the siding. The new engine's there, and boy is he a character!"

Henry was uncoupled from his tankers, and moved off for a rest in the siding. As he rounded a bend and stopped in the siding, he saw the new engine, freshly unloaded and gleaming in the sunlight.

He was a lot smaller than Henry was expecting. He had two leading wheels, six driving wheels, and no trailing wheels, much like James, but his running board was higher up and set at right angles over his pony truck. His tender had half of a cab on it, and his tender had six wheels. He had a belpaire firebox and a tall, prominent dome with a large chimney. He was painted entirely black with red stripes, and the tender bore an emblem of a ferret holding a dartboard, with the text 'British Railways' on either side.

Standing next to him was a man. He had peach skin and three tone grey hair, and seemed to be a rather large, heavyset chap. He also had blue eyes, and was dressed in a green explorer's shirt, dark green pants, suitable for working on a steam engine, and grey boots, laced up neatly at the front. He smiled. "Hello!" he said. "You must be Henry!"

"I am," said Henry. "But who are you two?"

"Oh, sorry," the man said. "I'm Quentin Percemore, but I get called Quibble Pants a lot (apparently I get too obsessive over tiny nerdy details), and this is Barry, my engine! We're visiting for the summer season."

"Where are you from, Barry?" Henry asked.

"I suppose," said Barry, "we shall have to tell you the entire story..."

Snowdrift at Bleath Gill

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Kirkby Stephen East, many years ago...


The snow whipped and whirled around through the air as the hills became covered in mountains of the silly soft stuff. The weather forecasters had been predicting that a massive storm was about to hit, and as such everybody was on high alert. The Stainmore route was in especial danger. This line, rather than cutting under the hills through tunnels, ran straight over the top of them, and features vulnerable bridges and deep cuttings- the worst possible places for trains to get stuck should they encounter difficulties.

Barry simmered in the yard at Kirkby Stephen East one cold winter's morning. It was extremely cold, and pitch black. The sun was yet to rise this early in the morning, and the glow of the signal lights could barely be seen in the gloom. His lamps barely penetrated the repidly developing fog, and as a consequence he was worried. "I shan't like it if we get stranded," he said to himself.

Later on, Quibble Pants arrived, fully equipped for the cold weather, and clambered onto Barry's footplate. "Come on Barry!" he said, in a chipper tone that was quite the opposite to how Barry was feeling. "We're due away any minute, and the line is better than they expected, according to the station master."

"I should hope so," Barry said, sounding worried. "There are many exposed bridges and deep cuttings, all of which are perfect for frost and snow to build up. I don't like the snow one bit."

"Neither do I," Quibble admitted. "But the freight must always get through, no matter what. Let's go!"

Just then, the signal arm to the goods line dropped, and they were ready to go. Barry sounded his whistle to alert the signalman to his location, and that he was ready. He puffed forward with his relatively light load, passing a passenger train coming in from the summit. "Look out up there!" the engine of the other train called. "In places I could barely see where I was going!"

"Thanks for the warning," Barry replied. He was beginning to feel more and more nervous. He began the climb up to Stainmore Summit, thumping over Belah Viaduct. He never liked going over Belah Viaduct. The bridge was old, and made from wrought iron, and swayed and creaked whenever anything passed over it. He'd heard it was designed by the same man who had designed the Tay Bridge. Engines and their drivers know all too well how that story ends.

They had just passed through Barras station when it happened. They entered a section of the line near a deep cutting, when suddenly-

"Look out!" Quibble called, and pointed ahead. "Snowfall on the tracks!"

It was too late. Barry and his train ploughed into the snow and stalled. Barry tried to move, but his wheels skidded whenever he tried to move. The guard tried digging the snow away, but more simply fell into its place, and the heavy trucks were held in place as well. "Fire and smoke!" Barry said. "I'm stuck!"

Quibble and the guard tried using hot embers and lumps of coal to melt the snow, but it did no good. "We'll have to stay here until help arrives," said the guard. "Whenever that is. I've heard the line up to the summit from Barnard Castle is blocked too."

"That is bad," Quibble said. "Rescue could be days away now. I'll hide with you in the brake van. Hopefully it won't be long."

"What about me?" Barry asked. "I'll be an icycle before long!"

Quibble Pants climbed onto the footplate once more and threw Barry's fire out to ensure his boiler wasn't damaged. Later in the day, he and the guard were rescued by a helicopter, but Barry couldn't be helped. He sat there in the snow for many days, getting colder and more miserable. "Oh dear," he said to himself. "I shall be stuck here forever at this rate! I shall never see anything else again!"

At long last, help arrived, as two other engines arrived. They brought with them snowploughs, and a gang of men to help clean things up. "Hello Barry!" said the first engine, his voice slightly muffled by the snowplough. "Looks like we both had a bad lot of it!"

"Wouldn't you be cracking a joke by now, Stan?" Barry asked.

"Not especially, Barry," Stan replied. "We got stuck too! Our crews and these men had to dig us out. There are also some nice cameramen from the British Film Institute who want to film the recovery effort."

"But," said Quibble, hopping out of the lead snowplough, "our priority remains getting this train unstuck. We'll have to work as quickly as we can."

Soon the men got to work, digging the snow away. The wind howled overhead, and the temperatures dropped to dangerously low levels, with the men being unable to work for longer than thirty minutes at once. They took refuge during their breaks in a coach at the back of the train, and thawed Barry's parts out using rags soaked in paraffin. When the train was ready to move, Stan towed Barry down to Barnard Castle. "Here's your goods!" he joked. "Just four days late!"

Barry was just happy to be out of the snow!


Present day


"Eventually," Barry finished, "I was bought from a scrapyard, and restored to full working order. I normally live near Loughborough in the Midlands. We also have a Black 5, like you, Henry."

"That did sound like a scary experience," Fluttershy said. "Henry and I were once caught in a snowdrift, and Donald and Douglas had to get us out. But why do we have a new engine here?"

"There's some sort of exhibition taking place here soon," Quibble explained, "and Barry and I were asked to come along and take part. There's also some news about a special visit to somewhere in London, but I wouldn't trust idle rumours. But never underestimate snow. It can be very dangerous, and leave you in quite a mess."

Speedkiller

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"Can we go a little faster?" Rusty grumbled. "We're going very slowly, and I'm worried we'll hold up a passenger train, or something else entirely!"

"Sorry Rusty." Sandbar did sound sincere as he checked behind him. "How's the spraying going, Terramar?"

"We've got most of the stuff down!" Terramar replied. "This weedkiller sure is messy."

"Which is why we need to go slowly," explained Sandbar. "If we race along the line, the weedkiller will fly all over the place and make a great big mess!"

"And no doubt cause confusion and delay," Rusty sighed. "Did you hear that story about a Spam Can who departed early from all her stops? Even when she hadn't been cleared to depart?"

"It sounds like her driver and fireman did a poor job of keeping her in check," Sandbar sighed, in return. "At least we won't be holding up any traffic."

Rusty's train consisted of a single tanker wagon. The drum of the tanker was painted yellow and had several warning signs on it, the largest of which read DANGER! WEEDKILLER! HIGHLY POISONOUS! DO NOT TOUCH! Quite why the signwriter had felt it neccesary to shout that information was lost on Rusty. A large pipe hung off the rear buffer beam, connected to another pipe connected to the tank. When Terramar turned a wheel, a chemical called weedkiller was dispensed onto the rails through holes in the pipe. The weedkilling train was only used once per year, but that was once too often for Rusty. He had hoped that Luke would take it today, but unfortunately Luke was out of service with wonky flues.

To make matters worse, it was the Bank Holiday season, a time of year when the people of England, Wales, and Scotland (though not Northern Ireland, for some reason) flocked to all parts of the country for a quick getaway. Mr Percival was expecting large crowds, but even he was stunned when he walked into work one morning. Standing there on the platform was a giant horde of passengers, all excited to go up to Skarloey Lake.

"We have a busy day today!" he said, as he walked into the shed. The Young Six were busy oiling their engines round (except Terramar, who was busy trying to figure out how to fix Luke). "Now then, Rheneas, it has been a while since you last had a passenger turn. Would you like to go out on passenger trains today?"

"Yes sir! Please sir!" said Rheneas happily.

"Yona delighted to be on passenger again!" said Yona, hopping about in excitement.

"How many times have I told you my footplate is not a trampoline?"



Rheneas drew the empty coaches into the platform, and was amazed at the number of people. "We'll need two engines at this rate!" he exclaimed. "You'd need a Double Fairlie to move this lot!"

"Double Fairlie?" Yona asked.

"It's an engine with two boilers and two sets of powered bogies," Rheneas explained. "They are very powerful, and can go round tight bends. Duke told me about them."

Just then, the guard blew his whistle and waved the green flag. "Right away!" he called.

"Away we go!" Rheneas called. He hadn't noticed that an extra coach had been shunted into the train by Rusty, and as he moved off his wheels slipped furiously. "This lot are heavy! We're going to need some sand."

They did well until they reached the loop outside Rheneas. As they stopped in the loop, Duncan rolled in with the weedkilling set. "Stupid weedkilling wagon!" Duncan grumbled. "It rarely works and makes a mess!"

"Nipped the weeds in the bud, have we?" Rheneas asked.

"Hopefully," Smoulder replied. "We had to go out and do it again as Terramar did such a slapdash job yesterday."

"Terramar new!" Yona exclaimed. "Terramar will learn. Yona certain of that."

"Smoulder certain Terramar won't refer to himself in the third person," Smoulder sighed. "Anyways, you can go now."

The next section of the line climbs sharply up to a small wooden bridge that crosses a stream. This section is awkward, as if a train stalls on it, they have to drop back to the bottom of the hill and start again. As a result, engines often hold back at the station until they have a clear run at the hill. Rheneas set off, his whistle blasting and his exhaust booming loudly. He thundered onto the grade shaking and rocking violently, going at speeds far faster than he was ever designed to. Soon the coaches were rocking, and swaying from side to side, but there was no bathwater splishing and splashing inside as narrow gauge trains never both with such silly things as bathtubs. Then it happened.

Rheneas' wheels began to slip violently on the rails, and his speed slowed to a crawl as he tried to get to the top. "What the?" he gasped, as his wheels kept on slipping. "This is not normal!"

Yona looked out of the cab. "Yona see problem!" she said. She hopped out as the train skidded to a halt, and looked at the rails. "Rails are smeared in grease. Grease is worse than leftover cooking fat from chippy! Rheneas also pulling extra coach, which not help him."

Rheneas rolled his eyes. "Brilliant," he said. "No wonder I was having such a hard time the whole way. That stuff isn't weedkiller- it's speedkiller!"

The guard laughed dryly at Rheneas' awful pun. "Never mind," he said. "We can just throw some sand on the rails and get on up the line. We'll have to drop back to the bottom of the hill though."

Rheneas was gently reversed to the bottom of the hill, and back to the station. Whilst they waited for him to get pressure up, the guard liberally coated the rails with sand and gripping stuff. "Right, good to go!" shouted the guard.

Yona blasted Rheneas' whistle, and switched on his sanders to add extra grip. "Steep climb!" she shouted.

Rheneas blasted his way up the slope, his wheels gripping the rails and smoke rising through the valley. Steam poured from his funnel into the air, and everybody who heard it would have told you a volcano had gone off. Although they were late into the station by the lake, the passengers didn't mind. They had experienced an altogether different adventure on the rails, and thanked Rheneas for his bravery.

Sir Handel's Plan

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"Who does that Peter Sam think he is?" grumbled Sir Handel. "He goes gallivanting off to Crewe- no sorry, Twywn, and then when the new engine isn't ready he gets brought back here! It makes no sense, I tell you!"

"We do have an engine shortage, remember," Skarloey told him. "Luke isn't powerful enough to pull the passenger trains most days, and as a result it's just three engines who are doing all the work."

"Yeah, right," Sir Handel grunted. "You get to go to Corris, Rheneas gets a new boiler courtesy of Israel Newton, Peter Sam goes to the Talyllyn, but I never get to go anywhere! When Peter Sam gets home, I know what I shall do if he's got ideas above his station."

"I can't see any ideas above the station," said Ocellus, confused. "Can you?"

"It's a figure of speech!" Skarloey laughed. "Ocellus, you really do need to stop taking things literally."

"I do not!" Ocellus replied.

"Do you listen to music?" Gallus asked.

"Yes."

"Proves our point," Sir Handel said, tiredly. "What Gallus was inferring was 'what sort of music do you listen to?'"

Ocellus blinked. "Oh."

Not long after, Peter Sam rolled back into the shed. "Hello!" he called. "I had an excellent time in Wales! Shall I tell you all about it?"

"Oh no, here we go..." Sir Handel grumbled.

"You can tell them all about it whilst your fire is cooling," said Mr Percival. "You need to have a nice long rest as you're back to work early tomorrow. I'm sorry, but we really need to have as many engines running as possible."

Sir Handel was furious. "What's the point," he said, as he backed onto the coaches, "of just getting home, and then lazing about the entire day? It's disgraceful."

"Some would call it disgusting," said a voice.

"And others would call it despicable," said another voice.

Sir Handel had no idea who had just spoken. But his mind was focused on other things. He was so annoyed that he banged into the coaches.

"Ouch! That hurt!" said Agnes.

"Be quiet!" Sir Handel snapped. As he moved forward, his wheels slipped on a patch of wet rail.

"Woah! Easy!" said Gallus. "You'll be drilling a hole in the rails at this rate!"

Sir Handel wasn't listening, however. In the shed, he swore that he could see Peter Sam laughing. "Right," he said grimly. "That's it. Time for soup can to learn that he doesn't get on the bad side of 'steamroller wheels'."

Gallus slammed the brakes on. "This doesn't look good," he said, glancing at the rails. "Your firebars have come loose, and you can't safely operate. I'll need to put you in the shed so I can mend them." Firebars are components fitted to an engine's firebox, that are needed to help hold the fire in the firebox. If they are damaged, the fire can fall out and leave the track in quite the mess.

Sir Handel was a little surprised by this turn of events, but he could easily make this work to his benefit. Some of his fire could be rescued, and was put into Peter Sam. Silverstream sprinted into the yard with Terramar following shortly behind. "Am I late?" she asked. "I'm so, so sorry I overslept! There was so much going on and I probably drank far too much coffee last night and-"

"Silvs, it's a Sunday," Terramar said. "Day of rest, remember?"

"Not for you, I'm afraid," said Mr Percival. "Sir Handel has suffered a mechanical fault and needs to be looked at. Silverstream, please take Peter Sam and bring him into service. Terramar, can you help Gallus with Sir Handel? I think it's a big job."

"Yes sir!" both of them said, and went to their respective engines. Peter Sam was soon making a good head of steam, and with a blast of the whistle moved off into the sunlight.

"Peep peep!" Peter Sam called. "Good to be back! Good to be back!"

"Wanna come with us, Gallus?" Silverstream called. "The lake looks really lovely! If it weren't for the fact I'm working, I would've gone in for a dip!"

"Wait, what?" Gallus asked.

"She always has her swimsuit on her for some reason," Terramar mentioned. "I don't think we can, Silverstream. We need to get these firebars fixed."

"OK!" Silverstream replied. "Have fun with DIY!"

"She once fitted a chimney using only an old drainpipe," Gallus explained. "I don't think an old drainpipe will work for fixing firebars, though."

They worked for days and days, trying their hardest to fix the mess, but it soon became apparent that the firebars couldn't be saved. "We'll have to order new ones," said Gallus. "I'll get on the phone to Crovan's Gate and have some new ones made."

"Can't you use Amazon?" Terramar asked.

"These are highly specialised parts. It's not as if you can order them for click and collect."

Sir Handel sat there for days still. His paintwork faded and became dull, and he was very cold. Everybody flocked to see Peter Sam, but only Gallus came to do maintenance work every now and then. "Oh dear," Sir Handel thought. "This plan backfired badly."

Many days more passed, until Mr Percival came in to check on him. "Hello, Sir Handel!" he said. "Why do you look so glum? I thought you normally complained about working!"

"Sorry sir," Sir Handel groaned.

"For having an accident? Sir Handel, we all have accidents and make errors. It's only natural."

"I knocked the firebars loose deliberately, to pay Peter Sam back... and now it's all backfired rather badly."

Mr Percival blinked. "Right," he said. "That was a very foolish thing to do, but I want to thank you for admitting to it. If you promise to be good, we shall get the new parts fitted."

"Yes sir!" Sir Handel replied.

Just then, Gallus walked in from the other end with the new firebars in his hands, and they were fitted in no time at all. Nobody thought to tell Sir Handel that they had only been delivered that morning.

Dirty Water

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One day, after having gotten in from a lot of work, Peter Sam was being cleaned by his driver, Silverstream, and her brother, Terramar. Only Silverstream had gone to Wales with Peter Sam; Terramar had stayed behind as he had been helping with Luke to keep the railway running.

"They clean engines very well on the Talyllyn, you know!" Peter Sam said with a smile.

Terramar looked over. "Are you saying that just because, or are you implying something else?"

"He's implying something else," Silverstream said quickly. "After all, he's a great engine to work with, and the crew at the Talyllyn did a good job."

"I remember the time I got ill after being cleaned there," said Peter Sam. "Would you like to hear the story?"

"I was there, so I know what happened," Silverstream said. "But I'm sure Terramar would love to hear!"

"I would," Terramar said, and pulled up a chair. Silverstream sat down in the driver's seat, as she and Peter Sam began to tell the story.


Pendre, North Wales


Silverstream held her tea in a mug in one hand. No point in drinking scalding hot liquid from your hands, after all. She tasted some more of it. "This tastes funny!" she said. "It seems oddly sweet."

"That's because the water here is soft," explained the depot manager, with a smile. "The water passes through very few rocks, and surrenders very few minerals to the water, which is what gives it the strange taste. There you are from, they have hard water, which surrenders most of its minerals. The only problem with soft water is that all that silt and other things in it produces limescale that clogs the tubes. I recall one story where they had to remove an engine's boiler tubes with another engine because the tubes were jammed in solid!"

"How do you deal with the problem?" asked Peter Sam.

"We use a special chemical process to remove all of that stuff, which is fitted to most of our water towers," the manager went on. "This is why our engines can use the water with no difficulty. Otherwise, cleaning out the boilers would be a right mess!"

As the manager walked away, Silverstream backed Peter Sam up to the water pipe, ran it into his tank, and turned the tap. Water soon began gently rolling down the pipe and flowed in Peter Sam's water tank. He was a saddle tank, and thus only had one tank, not two, as was once erroneously reported by somebody (who I can't recall). Peter Sam, however, did not react well to the water.

"Silverstream?" he called. "Something doesn't feel right. The water tastes off, somehow!"

"Maybe that filter thingy takes affect in the tanks?" Silverstream suggested.

There was a loud whistle behind them. "Can you please hurry up?" asked Talyllyn. "I've been sitting here for a while whilst you two have been blathering on. We have a railway to run, you know!"

"Sorry, Talyllyn," said Peter Sam. "We'll be on our way momentarily." Then his boiler was full. Silverstream turned the tap off, and walked back to the cab. With precision and care, she moved him onto the main running line, and then began to reverse to Twywn Wharf station, where a little diesel called Mountaineer had already moved the coaches into position. Peter Sam was coupled up, and all seemed good. Silverstream opened the injectors to fill the boiler.

"Ouch!" Peter Sam exclaimed. "I feel sick! This water does not sit well with me at all."

"Oh dear," Silverstream said. She started to fidget. You could tell she was worried if she was fidgeting more than usual (given her usual inability to keep still). She glanced back. "We'll take a look when we arrive at Nant Gwernol at the end of the line, OK?"

They never made it that far. The last of the passengers boarded, the guard blew his whistle and waved his green flag, and soon the train was ready to depart. Silverstream pulled on the whistle chord, and grew even more concerned. "The whistle doesn't normally gurgle," she said, confused. She then opened the regulator.

Suddenly, a massive jet of dirty, white water blasted out of his funnel and fell everywhere. It landed on the track. It landed on the platform. It landed on Peter Sam. It landed on the station canopy. It landed on Silverstream. Water was everywhere.

"Yuck!" Peter Sam exclaimed. "What a mess!" He was in no condition to operate, but luckily Mountaineer was nearby, and shunted him out of the way so that Talyllyn could take his train instead. Silverstream looked upset, and her voice quivered. She seemed legitimately upset.

"P- Peter Sam?" she asked quietly. "I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to run you in these conditions!"

"It's alright," Peter Sam said. "You weren't to know. Now let's hope I can be wheeled back to the shed and get this mess cleaned up."

Unfortunately, it wouldn't be. The visitors had come to see Peter Sam, and would have been disappointed if he hadn't been there. So he sat on the siding for the rest of the day, covered in sludge. Silverstream did her best to clean him up, but the mess remained, and Peter Sam had to endure hours of people laughing at him.


"...Silverstream did finally get a chance to wash me thoroughly, although she ended up extremely mucky herself," Peter Sam finished. "Eventually, it turned out that they had put far too much of the special substance into the water tower, and that was what caused the water to go weird. They use a different substance to clean the water now, as a consequence of that incident, and that is what I was referring to when I said that they clean engines very well on the Talyllyn, given how much muck was stuck on me."

Terramar nodded. "Remind me never to complain about cleaning Rheneas' ashpans again," he said, and he and his sister went back to cleaning Peter Sam.

I Name This Engine...

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The workers at Crovan's Gate had been working on the new engine for quite a while now, and there was much speculation about the identity of the new engine indeed. So much so, the engines were staying up all night to talk about it.

"What's his name?" asked Peter Sam.

"I don't know," Sir Handel replied. "Whenever I've asked Mr Percival, the only reply he's given is 'Number Seven'."

"Wouldn't I be number seven, logically speaking?" asked Luke. "I mean, I was the seventh engine to work here?"

"I was, not you," Duke corrected.

"I still haven't been repainted, and neither have you," Luke suddenly said.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Terramar asked.

"Nothing, I just thought I'd point it out."

"Well, shall we ask?" asked Rusty.

"I suppose we should," replied Skarloey.

The next morning, Mr Percival came around to check on them. "Hello!" he said. "I hope you all intend to be really useful today, as we need all hands on deck!"

"Sir, what's the new engine called?" Duncan asked suddenly.

Mr Percival smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he asked.

"Yes," Duncan replied. "It's why I'm asking the question."

"You'll have to wait patiently," smiled Mr Percival. "You will find out more at the naming ceremony, which is soon."

"Eeeeeeh! I can't wait until then! THE SUSPENSE IS TOO MUCH!" Silverstream said.

"You'll have to wait, Miss Sugarhigh," Gallus said. "We all can."

Silverstream pouted. "You're no fun."

A former employee of the railway, a Mr Ivo Hugh (the man who had kept it going during the Dark Ages), was to name the engine. He arrived one morning, a much older fellow, to familiarise himself with the yard once more.

"Yona have question for special guest!" Yona said.

"I also have one as well," Rheneas asked.

Ivo Hugh smiled. "Hello Yona. Hello Rheneas. I remember you two. The Gallant Old Engine who saved the Skarloey Railway is still going strong. They really should call it the Rheneas Railway you know!"

"I'm right here," said Skarloey.

"I know," Mr Hugh said. "But what was your question, Rheneas."

"Seeing as your naming the engine, do you know what the engine is to be called? It would make sense that you would."

"Indeed it would," Mr Hugh replied. "But I don't. Sorry about that, chaps."

"Chaps?" Smoulder asked, incredulously. "Four of us are girls. I know I look like a boy, but really?"

"Besides, the nameplate won't be fitted until the last minute," Mr Hugh told them. And then he went to get some lunch.

"So, what's the bet it'll be a place or a person?" Smoulder asked.

"Well," Duncan noted, "Two of the engines here are names after places (Skarloey and Rheneas), and five are named after people (Sir Handel, Peter Sam, Duncan, and Duke)."

"I'm named after a person!" Luke protested. "Admittedly, the foreman's son at the CEGB Brendam project, but that's still a person!"

"Sorry," Duncan said. "Anyways, the bulk of engines are named after places, with Rusty being named after his builder. I think it'll be a place, to even out the numbers of names."

"That does make sense," Rheneas replied.

"It makes perfect sense," Ocellus added. "Which doesn't explain why people often do things that are nonsensical."



The day of the ceremony arrived. A special train was organised to convey the passengers, Mr Percival, and Mr Hugh to Crovan's Gate station, where the ceremony was due to happen. Skarloey, as the oldest engine on the railway, was given the honour of pulling the special train. Ocellus polished him until you could see your face in the paintwork, and then took him out of the yard, the wondrous smell of anthracite as engines were readied for work filling the air and rolling around the countryside. The other drivers worked to get their engines cleaned too, and they all looked magnificent.

Skarloey worked as far as Glennock, which is halfway up the line, and then ran round the train. The passengers were waiting for them (including a reenactor appearing as Mr Rockhoof, Skarloey's driver back in the 1860s), and they soon boarded the train. Skarloey was coupled up facing the other way, as he had run through the lakeside loop to get back to the station, and soon started his journey down the line. There was one more stop to make on the run down, and that was to stop at the cottage where Mr Hugh lived. Once he was onboard, they started off again.

But just then, it happened. As the train approached the crossing, something suddenly ran across the line. "Brakes, Ocellus!" Skarloey shouted.

Ocellus slammed the brakes on, and the train came to a screeching halt just inches from where the thing had run across. She secured the train and stepped out of the cab, looking over to where the object had gone. She laughed when she saw it.

"What is it?" asked Skarloey, and then he saw it. "What on Earth?"

"It's OK," Ocellus replied. "It's just a big pig! And her piglets too! We need to heard them back across the line to where they belong."

Problem was, the pigs didn't want to be caught, and led Ocellus, Mr Percival, Mr Hugh, and the guests on a merry chase around the level crossing. Skarloey was worried. "Oh dear," he said. "We're going to be late. Why do animals, when trying to cross the line, always dash over at the worst possible moment and run at the thing that's about to hit them?"

Eventually, the pigs were caught, and they could go on their way. The rest of the engines, along with the new one, simmered at the bottom station waiting for the guests to arrive. The new engine was a big side tank, with no leading wheels, four driving wheels, and two trailing wheels. He had a big cab, and looked very strong.

"I hope something bad hasn't happened!" exclaimed Peter Sam. "If so, it could cause confusion and delay!"

Everybody who could looked at him. "That's my line," said Sir Toppham Hatt.

Seconds later, Skarloey blasted in, puffing and panting as he rolled to a stop. "Better... late... than... never!" he panted loudly.

Mr Hugh got off the train and addressed the crowd. "My assembled friends, Mr Percival, Sir Toppham Hatt, and Sir Robert Norramby," he said. "I apologise for being late. I was chasing pigs! But, I am here to name an engine. I don't know what the engine is to be called, but I shall read the new name to you."

"And so, I name this engine..." He reached for the curtain, and pulled it back to reveal the engine's name. He was so stunned he stepped backwards for a moment. "Well, bless my soul! The engine is called Ivo Hugh!" He turned to Mr Percival. "Thank you very much sir," he said.

"Three cheers for Ivo Hugh- both of them!" called Rheneas.

And the engines and attending humans whistled and cheered as long and loud as they could, and all were happy on the Island of Sodor.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Alswq0ThVDM

Interlude 3

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMWRn_vQff4&list=PLrOq2stD6jaOuGygjNNBNlJy5Fvwnk999

Welcome back, everybody! Are you ready for another round of Thomas' adventures?

In this next collection, several engines go to the mainland, another engine arrives to help out, and Gordon is proven to be a hero at a special festival. In the meantime, we also have thrills and spills on the railway- but sometimes impatience can lead to carelessness!

Edward and the Royal Engine, Part 1

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One summer's evening, the engines were all at Tidmouth Sheds, having just finished another long day. Their drivers were busy cleaning them and clearing out their fireboxes, keeping the ashpits clean, and ensuring that no grease or muck stayed on them.

"Well!" said James. "That was quite the day, if I do say so myself. Being a really splendid engine is quite hard, if I do say so myself."

"Try taking the Express!" said Gordon. "Then you'll know the meaning of hard work."

"Erm, Gordon?" Rainbow Dash said. "James has taken the Express, remember?"

"So I do," Gordon huffed.

Just then, their conversation was interrupted by Sir Toppham Hatt. "Hello, everybody!" he said. "I have some wonderful news for you all?"

"Is there a giant globe bouncing across the island?" asked Thomas.

"Is a diesel with a claw on top running amok?" inquired Percy.

"Has a giant chocolate cake monster buried all the world's chocolate cake in chocolate cake?" Pinkie asked.

Everybody stopped and looked at her.

"You never know!"

"Pinkie, with all the sugar you ingest, yer on yer way to a nasty heart attack," Applejack sighed, with an apple in her hand.

"An apple has sugar in it," Pinkie pointed out.

"Natural sugar, not processed sugar."

"Anyway," said Sir Toppham Hatt. "In my hand I have a letter confirming the arrangements for a visit to London."

"We're going to London?" asked Percy.

"Only a few of us," said Sir Toppham Hatt. He then began to read the letter. "Dear Sir Toppham Hatt.

It is my dearest pleasure to inform you that you have won a special award for your services to the railway industry. You are to attend a special awards ceremony at London King's Cross station, where His Royal Highness Prince Charles shall present the award. Please attend on Thursday, 12th May. Signed, the Secretary Royal."

"Well done sir!" said Thomas. "Wait, that's next week!"

"Indeed," said Sir Toppham Hatt. "But this has been planned for months. The path to London has been planned out. All I need to do is decide which engines to bring."

"Engines, sir?" asked Henry.

"Yes," Sir Toppham Hatt said. "Prince Charles has specifically requested that I arrive under steam power. But I am also going to need a diesel for working the Cumbrian Coast Line."

"That's my old stomping ground!" said Edward.

"Indeed," smiled Sir Toppham Hatt. "But that route now uses GSM-R signalling, so a steam engine cannot operate alone. We also need a backup steam engine just in case."

Duck had only just rolled in with a goods train when he overheard the conversation. "I wonder what's going on there?" he asked.

Just then, he heard Sir Toppham Hatt give his answer. "The three engines that I shall bring with me are... Edward, Duck, and Bear!"

"Why Bear?" asked Gordon.

"Because," Twilight said, "Bear has GSM-R gear fitted, like most of our diesels. However, none of our steam engines do, which is why Bear will be needed to tow both Edward and Duck as far as Carnforth. Thomas and I had a similar arrangement when we went to York."

Duck was amazed. "Sir Toppham Hatt wants me to go to London?" he asked. He didn't say anything else before Applejack walked over to Apple Bloom.

"Hear that, Apple Bloom?" she said. "We're goin' ta London next week ta meet the Royal Family!"

"That sounds amazin'!" Apple Bloom cried. "We're goin' ta London!" She then stopped. "Which London?"

"I hope it's Paddington," smiled Duck.

"We're not having that nonsense again," said Sir Toppham Hatt. "Now then, each driver is permitted to bring one family member with them to London. Please pick wisely."

To the Apple Sisters, there was no doubt who their choices would be.


That evening, when they got home, the first place they went was to the trees. Trevor was hard at work, dragging some heavy machinery around. "Hello Applejack! Hello Apple Bloom!" he called, blowing his whistle as he rattled across the field.

"Evenin', Trevor!" Applejack called. "Have ya seen Ma an' Pa anywhere?"

"They're in the bottom orchard," Trevor replied. "Is something the matter?"

"We're goin' ta London!" Apple Bloom exclaimed, hopping about like a weasel with a sugar rush.

"I see," Trevor smiled. "Do you need a lift?"

"No thanks, we could use the exercise," Applejack replied. "Though Apple Bloom never seems to gain weight no matter how much she eats."

"Hey!"

"Ah were only teasin'."

Apple Bloom pouted as they walked over to their parents, currently looking at a tree. "Ah think we'll be harvestin' this one!" Bright Mac said.

"Looks that way," Pear Butter added. "Assumin' they don't fall off this very second." She whiped her brow. "Phew. When we told our friends we were movin' ta England, they all told us it'd be like the Arctic. Instead, it's as hot as any summer in Texas!"

"Hey Ma! Hey Pa!" Applejack called, waving to her parents, or 'pearents' as some people spelt it for some reason.

"Hello you two!" Bright Mac smiled. "Have a fun day on the railroad! You look like you had a hot day!"

"We sure did," Applejack smiled, whiping some sweat away. "Good thin' Ah have this here hat. Ah was wantin' ta ask ya somethin'."

"Sure!" Bright Mac smiled.

"Ya see, Sir Toppham Hatt has won an award ta be presented in London, and he wants ta take Eddie and Duck with him. We're allowed one guest each, so... Would ya like to travel ta London next Thursday?"

Bright Mac took a few seconds to respond. "Yeah! Sounds fun!"

Pear Butter was next to speak. "Lemme guess. You'd like me ta come as yer guest, Apple Bloom?"

"If that's OK with you," Apple Bloom said quietly.

"Ah'd love to! Ah've never seen London. Ah don't think any of us have ever been South a' Birmingham!"

"Birmingham, England, or Birmingham, Alabama?" Grand Pear asked. He had heard the whole conversation, and brought Trevor to a stop nearby. "Enjoy yer trip, dear. Granny Smith, Big Mac, Trevor, and Mahself can handle things here just fine whilst yer gone. Ah'll give ya some Pear juice and Apple cider ta enjoy on the way down, and Granny Smith can prepare a picnic lunch if you'd like."

"Ah can't wait ta go!" Apple Bloom said finally.


Of course, she had to wait. But the day before they set off for London, the assembled team set about cleaning and polishing their engines. The polished them and worked hard until the engine's paintwork gleamed and glowed in the sunny light. Each of the engines would need to be kept in this condition for tomorrow, so they were kept out of service for the day. The next morning, their fires were lit, and Duck set about assembling the train, which consisted of two vintage North Western Railway bogie coaches. Edward was next to arrive at Vicarstown. He was attached to the front of the coaches, and Bear was then shunted in front so he could tow them to Carnforth.

Gordon was waiting there with several coaches. "What I don't understand is why you were picked, Edward," he said. "After all, I've been to London before."

"Which London?" Henry asked.

"I wish they'd make their mind up what London was called," Gordon fumed.

Rainbow Dash shook her head. "London has many stations. King's Cross is the old LNER one. We ran into St. Pancras, which is the old Midland station. Duck worked at Paddington on the other side of the city, and Stepney would have worked out of both Victoria and Fenchurch Street."

"Ah thought Paddington were a bear," Apple Bloom said.

"He's called that because they found him at Paddington!" Duck smiled.

"Are you all certain we're not going to Liverpool Street?" asked Edward.

Finally, the passengers arrived. Sir Toppham Hatt was carrying a large bag, in which his smartest suit was contained. Pear and Bright were also carrying suit bags, as was another woman walking up the platform with Shining Armour. This was his mother, Twilight Velvet. She was currently wearing her usual purple blouse, pink skirt, and light magenta heeled shoes, and climbed onboard with a smile. "Isn't this exciting?" she said.

"Why aren't you in your fancy clothes?" Gordon asked.

"If anything were to go wrong on the way, they'd get ruined," explained Sir Toppham Hatt. "We'll get changed when we get to London. Are we ready to go, Shining?"

"Yes sir!" Shining Armour replied. "Bear is fully fired up and ready to go. I'll hop in the cab now."

"Excellent," smiled Sir Toppham Hatt, as he boarded the coach.

"Right away!" called the guard.

Bear blasted his horn in response. "London, here we come!" he called, and he pulled away, his engine thundering and roaring as he headed for the Mainland.


The train rolled out of Vicarstown station and proceeded to cross the bridge to the mainland. Once at the station in Barrow, Shining Armour keyed in the train reporting number and the signal ahead, and once the train was registered in the system, the train moved off once more, rolling along the old metals of the Furness Railway.

"I used to travel this section a lot, back in the old days," said Edward. "Of course, it feels completely different now. We didn't have any continous rail back then!"

After a long journey around the coast, the train finally arrived at Carnforth, and was ready to resume under steam power. Bear was moved from the front of the train to the back to provide backup power and electric train heating if required (unlikely on such a sunny day). Edward was coupled to the lead coach, and Duck in front of him. They received the all clear to depart and set off, taking the line to Manchester as they proceeded south. They rumbled through Manchester Victoria, drawing a big crowd as they did so, and set off towards Leeds, travelling through the hills at speed. It was certainly a sight to see and hear, two steam engines working their hardest on the run towards their first (and hopefully final) intermediate stop of York.

Pear, Bright, and Twilight (Velvet) all shared a compartment as the train rattled along. They could hear Sir Toppham Hatt practising his speech in an adjacent compartment, and he was saying some very strange things.

"He just called it a suspicious day," Twilight said. "Does he mean 'auspicious'?"

"That would make more sense," Bright said, then noted his wife was being oddly quiet. "Is everythin' OK, Buttercup?"

Pear nodded quietly. "Yeah. It's just that, for all our family connections ta farmin', we sure do have a strong connection ta the railroad. Two of our daughters work for the railroad, we move our produce by it, and of course then there's Apple Bloom."

"Oh, Ah see," Bright said. Seeing Twilight's bafflement, he quickly explained. "Apple Bloom's our youngest. She were born on a train."

"And there she is now, leadin' us ta London," Pear smiled. "They've come such a lon' way, and Ah can't help but feel proud o' them."

"And so you should!" Twilight said. "Both of mine are railway workers themselves. Once, my daughter's engine came to visit us for breakfast! It made quite the mess!"

"Wasn't that where yer biggest concern was that you'd need ta make more breakfast?" Bright asked.

"Breakfast is no joke!" Twilight replied. "Without breakfast, you get a very bad start to the day."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now arriving into York, which is our intermediate stop. We will be held here for two hours, during which time we are booked to eat at the Signal Box Cafe and Restaurant. Please be back on the train by 14:00. Thank you."

The train rolled round a bend and into the approaches of York, a Leeds bound passenger train rolling past, followed by them being held to let an InterCity 225 into the station. As they steamed into York Platform 5, Green Arrow departed with a railtour for Glasgow from Platform 9.

At long last, they had arrived, and the three adults, as well as Sir Toppham Hatt, got off and headed for lunch. "I wonder what eating in a signal box is like?"

"I've heard they serve milkshakes," Sir Toppham Hatt smiled. "But do they serve blue flavour?"

"Blue flavour?" Bright Mac asked.

"Ah think he means blueberry flavour," Pear specified.


Meanwhile, Applejack and Apple Bloom took Edward and Duck to the yards for coal and water, and to switch positions. Edward was to lead the train into London, with Duck supporting from the rear. Bear was to marshalled inbetween Edward and the coaches (he had gone to the diesel depot on the north end of the station). As they puffed into the yard, they heard a voice gasp in surprise.

"Well, bless me! By Stanier's Sideplates, it's an engine of Sodor!"

Edward and the Royal Engine, Part 2

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The engine sitting in the yard was massive. It had four leading wheels, six driving wheels, and two trailing wheels, all of which support heavy frames, a thick, chunky boiler that radiated power, and a large, spacious cab, with a belpaire firebox and tapered boiler to boot. The locomotive had two smoke deflectors attached to the sides of the smokebox, and the tender was also pretty large, with the metal tapering towards the top. The wheels were painted black, and the boiler, frames and tender were painted red with cream and orange lining. The sides of the cab bore the numbers 6233, and the tender sides had the text LMS. The motion was polished to perfection, and the sides of the boiler carried a symbol of a crown, with a nameplate below it.

Duchess of Sutherland.

"Hello!" the engine said. "You must be Edward!"

"Yes, I am," Edward replied. "And you must be Duchess of Sutherland."

"Well, yes, my nameplates do rather betray that fact," Duchess of Sutherland smiled. "But this is quite the honour! I've never seen an engine from Sodor before!"

"She only recently became able to speak again," said a voice, and a woman hopped off Duchess of Sutherland's footplate. She had pink skin and purple eyes, both of which were surrounded by a little bit of blue eye shadow. She had purple, pink, and cream hair in interlocking strands, and wore a light blue shirt, a dark blue skirt, and a dark blue jacket with a strange broche set into it, that looked like a blue heart. She also wore a pair of gold shoes. "It was quite the shock when she suddenly regained the ability, as I had to explain to her that, no, this wasn't 1994."

"I take it then that you are her driver?" Edward asked, as Applejack hopped down from his footplate.

"Yes. I'm Cadence."

"Or, to use her full title, 'Mi Amore Cadenza'," Duchess of Sutherland added.

"I'd rather you didn't use the name," Cadence admitted. "It's far too pompous."

"Well, nice ta meet ya, Cadence," said Applejack. "We're just gettin' refuelled here, and we'll be on our way to London."

"Oh!" Duchess of Sutherland exclaimed. "We're going to London too. What a strange coincidence. We'd best be off, Cadence! We need to pick up our coaches!"

"Of course," Cadence smiled, as she walked back over and hopped onto the footplate. "Let's go! I only hope that D199 is around, as that Cinch is quite the source of trouble."

As Duchess of Sutherland steamed away to find a turntable and collect her stock, Bear arrived to be attached to the back of Edward. Duck was moved over to the refuelling road first, and once his bunker and tanks were filled, he dropped back to York station to attach to the back of the coaches. Bear was then refuelled, and reversed to the front of the coaches. And finally, Edward, gleaming paintwork and magnificent puff, was refilled with coal and water, and in turn dropped back to the train.

The passengers boarded once again, Sir Toppham Hatt clearly having enjoyed his blue favour milkshake. "That was very good!" he said. "If in doubt, have homemade food."

"They say some country cookin' is the fastest route ta a person's heart," Pear joked.

"Should we be changin' whilst headin ta London?" Bright asked, looking concerned.

"I think we should!" Twilight smiled. "I have a new dress purchased specifically for this occassion that I think will fit the bill."


With a loud whistle, Edward, Bear, and Duck departed, puffing down the East Coast Mainline. They had been routed onto the Slow line in order to let another train pass, and were stunned when they saw Duchess of Sutherland roar past on the Fast line, 10 coaches behind her as she roared into the distance.

"What a fast engine!" Duck commented.

"She is a Duchess, one o' the most powerful steam engines ever used in Britain," Apple Bloom pointed out. "And we're not exactly doin' much back here. The two lead engines are doin' all the work."

"Maybe they won't need us after all!" Duck joked. "They seem to have this comfortably wrapped up."

The train passed through Newark, when suddenly Shining got a buzz on the in cab radio. "D7101, this is Grantham Box, do you read me, over?"

"Grantham Box, this is D7101, reading you loud and clear, over!"

"D7101, this is Grantham Box, be aware of an upcoming TSR. A train ahead of you is having technical difficulties and has been forced to halt at Grantham station. We will notify you with more details as you get closer, over."

"Grantham Box, this is D7101, I understand that we have an upcoming TSR, and a train is having technical problems, out."

As the train raced along the line, it soon became apparent what the problem was. They were forced to halt at Grantham as well, temporarily occupying the platform normally used for Nottingham trains. Over on the other platform (well, the Up platform at least) was Duchess of Sutherland and her train. She was red in the face, blowing off noisily, and apparently unable to turn a wheel. "Stupid coaches!" she snapped.

"What happened?" asked Edward, looking concerned. "What caused you to stop?"

Cadence leaned out of the cab. "Brake ejector's failed!" she replied. "Air is leaking into the brake system and preventing me from bringing the brakes off. We'll be stuck here, as we cannot safely operate without continous braking. They'll have to get a diesel to replace us."

Bear suddenly had an idea. "Shining," he said, "remember when I had trouble with my brake ejector?"

"Yes?" Shining replied, not entirely sure where this was going.

"Remember how you disconnected me from the brakes on the coaches and then Fluttershy linked up Henry's brakes, controlling them from there whilst we had the loco brake?"

Shining suddenly realised what Bear was getting at. "Brilliant!" he said. "Absolutely brilliant. We just use the same trick here!"

Applejack, who had overheard the entire conversation, was in on the plan. "Ah'll attach Eddie to the front o' Duchess of Sutherland to act as pilot engine. That way, there ain't too much force comin' from the back. The rest of ya, and the coaches, can be marshalled in behind the last coach of Duchess' train."

"Let's do it," Bear replied. The various engines were uncoupled, and moved about the station, having gotten clearance from the signaller.

Bear moved in behind the rear coach. Once Shining had hooked him up, he applied the parking brake and walked up the train to where Duchess of Sutherland was.

"Hello?" he called. Cadence stuck her head out of the cab a moment later.

"Yes?" she said. "Have you a plan to rescue us?"

"Indeed," Shining replied. "I'm going to disconnect Duchess of Sutherland from the braking system and link it through Bear."

"Bear?"

"Oh, sorry. Bear's my diesel engine. Edward will be acting as the pilot engine to help Duchess of Sutherland along, and I'll be controlling the brakes of your coaches, so you only need to worry about keeping the load moving. The pannier tank at the back will handle the brakes on the rear coaches."

"But won't you be late?" Cadence said. "I imagine you've got a busy schedule to keep to, and helping us-"

"Is no problem," Shining replied. "You're in trouble, and it'd be wrong not to help those in need."

Sure enough, it was done. Brake pipes were disconnected and reconnected, and engines were coupled up throughout the formation, creating a very wacky looking train. Edward sounded his whistle. "Ready!" he called.

"Ready!" Duchess of Sutherland called.

"Ready!" Bear called.

"Ready!" Duck called. "London, here we come!"

With a blast of smoke, the heavy cavalcade got moving. Edward dug fiercely into the rails, his wheels spinning slightly as he hauled the heavy train away. Duchess of Sutherland roared and puffed like an angry dragon, and Bear's engine roared loader than ever before. Duck, although the smallest engine there, was no slouch, and was producing enough noise and smoke for six engines as the train got moving.

"No record breaking!" Cadence called over the radio. "We're limited to 75 miles per hour!"

"Understood!" came replies from the other engines.

"Super Rescue, 2.0!" Bear called.

People turned out on the lineside and at platforms to watch them fly by, smoke pouring from the engine's funnels as they flew along the line. People waved and cheered as they went on through, and some of the crowds were so big the police were called out to control them.

At long last, they descended through Gasworks and Copenhagen Tunnels, and after a brief signal check were cleared into London King's Cross. Due to the length of the train, stopping in the right place proved to be easier said than done. Edward was touching the bufferstops when the formation finally came to a proper halt.

"We made it!" Edward smiled. "London, here we are!"

"And only 10 minutes late, too!" Sir Toppham Hatt, who had disembarked in his posh suit, said. He then turned around, looked at the crest on Duchess of Sutherland's centre lamp iron. "Edward!" he said. "Do you know what train we rescued?"

Applejack looked out of the window and gasped herself. "Well, bless me!" she exclaimed.

"We rescued the Royal Train!"

Just then, the door on the lead coach of the Royal Train opened, and out stepped none other than Prince Charles himself. "Sir Toppham Hatt?" he asked.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Sir Toppham Hatt replied, and bowed. The other adults had arrived, also dressed far more smartly than before, and did a mixture of bowing and curtysing depending on what they were wearing and their gender.

"You did an excellent piece of work today," the Prince continued. "Although we did arrive late, what matters most is that you and your engines stopped and went out of your way to help those who were in need of help. I shall never forget this, and this sort of ingenuity is precisely why we gave you this award."

"With all due respect, sir, I cannot take all the credit," Sir Toppham Hatt replied. "It was the engines and their drivers who pulled this rescue off."

Suddenly, a member of train staff appeared with four medals. Prince Charles took them up, and gave them to Sir Toppham Hatt, Applejack, Apple Bloom, and Shining Armour. "It is my great honour to award each of you the Railway Service and Gallantry Award, for services rendered unto the railways."

Behind them, the adults were beaming with pride. "Ah never imagined this day would come," Pear said, desperately trying not to cry.

"Neither did Ah," Bright smiled. "This is a grand day fer us all."

"And the engines deserve credit too," Prince Charles continued. "Edward, Bear, and Duck, you are all, if I do say so myself, Royally Useful Engines!"

Everybody was so happy they didn't dare groan at the dreadful pun. "Thank you for getting me out of a tight spot, you three," Duchess of Sutherland said. "I have no idea what would've happened if we'd had to get a diesel!"

"That's quite alright," Edward smiled. "Always help a friend in need."

Finally, Shining spoke to Cadence. "Hey, I know we only just met, but... is it possible if we could chat sometime?"

Cadence smiled. "Sure thing. Here's my number, so call me maybe? But not when I'm working. Duchesses are quite maintenance intensive!"

And all were happy that sunny afternoon at King's Cross, not least those who had saved the day.

Ticket to Ryde, Part 1

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Stepney was stuck, with the weight of a few coaches holding him back on the slope. The load was pretty heavy, and he was almost to the top, but he had stalled in the worst possible location. "Sweetie Belle, we're stuck!" he called.

Sweetie Belle hopped down from his footplate, and rolled her eyes in frustration. "Brilliant," she said. "We stalled in the worst possible place at the top of a steep hill, with a passenger train wanting to pass, but it cannot go as we're sat here."

An angry horn blast from behind confirmed this suspicion. "Hey!" shouted a Class 450. "Can you get a move on? I've got places to be, you know!"

Stepney sighed. "I guess we'll have to wait for boiler pressure to build," he sighed, as he thought back to how he had became embroiled in this entire mess.


That morning, on Sodor...


"Sorry, where was it you were going again, darling?" Rarity asked, as both siblings walked to the bus stop.

"The Isle of Wight," Sweetie Belle replied. "Stepney has been invited to a reunion of all surviving Terriers, which is taking place at Havenstreet on the Isle of Wight Steam Railway. We'll be joining the line's two resident Terriers, and there are some coming from all over the world!"

"How many Terriers are preserved?" Rarity enquired.

"Ten. Newport, Freshwater, Sutton, Waddon, Stepney, Martello, Poplar, Fenchurch, Knowle, and Boxhill. Of those, Stepney, Boxhill, Sutton, and Knowle are able to operate on the mainline, whilst Newport and Freshwater are the home engines. Waddon is coming over from Canada, and the rest are being towed to Portsmouth by their respective railway companies. It'll be quite exciting to have all of Stepney's surviving brother's and sisters together, let me tell you!"

"I imagine so," Rarity smiled, as the company bus for Arlesburgh depot pulled up. "Well, have a nice time when there, and make sure to write. I'm certain mother will want to know what you've been up to."

You too!" Sweetie Belle called, as she hopped onboard. The bus pulled away, and off she went on her great adventure.

At the depot, she discovered that the firelighter had already got Stepney up to operating temperature. His axles were lubricated, his sandboxes were already filled, his controls were in perfect condition, all guages and levers read correctly, and his paint was freshly applied. It was so shiny you could see your reflection in it, a quality that Improved Engine Green is well known for, and his brasswork shone. "Good morning, Sweetie Belle!" Stepney said, with a smile.

"Morning!" Sweetie Belle replied, as she hopped onto his footplate and checked his water guages. "You ready for our big adventure?"

"I sure am!" Stepney smiled, as his cylinder cocks were opened. Steam shot out of them as he rolled under the water tower, and Sweetie Belle went to fill his water tanks. Once that mundane but very important task was completed, Stepney puffed off into the yard to find his coaches.

"What did they have lined up for him to pull?" Scootaloo asked Oliver, as she got his fire up to temperature.

"I can't recall exactly, but I did think they looked rather big for him..."



"Three Mark Ones?" Sweetie Belle exclaimed.

"Yes, Sweetie Belle," said the foreman. "The Isle of Wight Steam Railway specifically requested Stepney be pulling Mark One coaches painted in the green livery of the Southern Railway. Apparently they want to recreate the Hayling Island trains with one or two of the Terriers at the gala, and we must comply."

"I don't know if Stepney can pull that lot!" Sweetie Belle replied. "It's quite heavy, and he's only little, and what if we encounter steep hills?"

"Who are you calling little?" Stepney asked.

"There aren't hills in the south of England!" the foreman said. "It's all completely flat down there. Besides, you've got the advantage when running towards London, as the West Coast Main Line is all downhill from Carnforth to Preston, and flat from there to Willesden Junction, where you'll be able to get to Southern metals via a convuluted series of railway moves."

"Sweetie Belle," Stepney said, a little louder and with more confidence. "Remember that when we came to Sodor I was pulling a far heavier load than this. I can do it. If I can do suburban workings around London, and work on the Little Western without a fuss, I can pull three bigger coaches. Little engines can do big things, after all."

"If you're sure," Sweetie Belle said. She hooked him up to the coaches, and with a blast of the whistle they were off!

The train puffed across Sodor, and rolled across the Vicarstown bridge, the sun shining in the sky and nicely reflecting on the pristine paintwork of both Stepney and the coaches. The train steamed into Barrow station, and was hooked up to a diesel that towed the formation away over the Cumbrian Coast Line. It proved to be a very slow journey.

"To think I did this going the other way, but under my own power!" Stepney huffed. "GSM-R is such a nuisance."

"I hope they don't bring it in on the rest of the network," Sweetie Belle added. "Otherwise, most of our engines would struggle to operate off the island!"

"Then it's probably a good thing that steam engines are only used on masse on Sodor and preserved lines," the diesel interjected. "Considering your age, I'm strictly limited to 25 miles an hour as far as Carnforth. From there, you can run under your own power."

At long last, they reached Carnforth, and the diesel detached. Stepney could now operate under his own power. He set off with gusto, being clocked at 40 miles per hour through Lancaster and taking the grade out of the station with pride. He made his first stop for water just south of Preston, and then continued on his merry way towards Willesden Junction. On the way, he passed Royal Scot racing northwards on a railtour to Glasgow. As he continued to venture south, the scenery slowly became flatter and more gentle. "Easy we go!" he said, a smile on his face as he puffed along the line. Eventually, he transferred onto the North London Line, and following a series of very convoluted moves, he arrived at Woking, ready to start his run down to Portsmouth.

A lorry was used to refill his tanks again as Stepney heard a whistle from nearby. "Hello Stepney!" called Boxhill, as he flew through and disappeared out of sight through the tunnel.

"Hello Boxhill!" Stepney replied. At least, he could resume his journey, but the run over the hills proved to be harder than he had remembered. "I used to run this a lot back in the Hayling Island days. I can't recall it being this steep."

"Watch out!" Sweetie Belle called. "Your wheels are slipping!" And they were. As he took the grade up to Haslemere, he began to get slower, and slower, and slower. He tried to keep moving, but Stepney eventually ground to a complete halt on the hill.


Stepney was stuck, with the weight of a few coaches holding him back on the slope. The load was pretty heavy, and he was almost to the top, but he had stalled in the worst possible location. "Sweetie Belle, we're stuck!" he called.

Sweetie Belle hopped down from his footplate, and rolled her eyes in frustration. "Brilliant," she said. "We stalled in the worst possible place at the top of a steep hill, with a passenger train wanting to pass, but it cannot go as we're sat here."

An angry horn blast from behind confirmed this suspicion. "Hey!" shouted a Class 450. "Can you get a move on? I've got places to be, you know!"

Stepney sighed. "I guess we'll have to wait for boiler pressure to build," he sighed, and waited. Eventually, it was high enough that he could move again. Sweetie Belle spread sand under his wheels, and with a roar got the train moving again.

"GET- MO- VING- YOU- SILLY- COACHES!" he roared, as he pulled forward into the platform. The Class 450 flew by, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

Thankfully, the rest of the run to Portsmouth was easy. Stepney saw Sutton and Waddon shunting in Fratton yard, who whistled to him happily, and he in return. Stepney eventually pulled up in the docks, and was loaded onto a ship to take him to the Isle of Wight. Upon arrival, Stepney ran under his own power once more to the junction at Smallbrook, and steamed up the grade to Ashey, before rolling down gently in Havenstreet. His coaches were put into a siding, and Stepney rolled into the shed where his fire was dropped. As Stepney snoozed happily in the dying light of the day, he could hear whistles and puffing as other Terriers rattled about in the yard. Tomorrow was the day the gala began, and Stepney would play his part.

Ticket to Ryde, Part 2

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The next morning dawned, and Stepney simmered happily in the yard as his fire slowly built and warmth crept through his boiler. All of the Terriers on shed that morning had had their fires lit by the depot crew, and the air slowly filled with the smell of anthracite and gentle whiffs of steam as a depot was readied for duty. Stepney yawned gently as Sweetie Belle arrived to check on him.

"They've lit your fire?" she asked. "Neat!"

"Indeed," Stepney smiled. "These depot crews know what they are about, and are good at it, eh? Now, we've got a lot to do today; I'm told the timetable is very busy."

No sooner had he said this, then a workman coupled him to the engine that was behind him. "Hey! What's going on?"

"Operational orders," the workman replied.

Suddenly, the engine he was coupled to spoke. "We're coupled back to back so that we can run round a lot more efficiently. That way, we have an engine that is always facing forwards for their part of the journey. The photographers also prefer it, as it allows them to get a front view of an engine rather than its bunker."

Stepney's face widened into a smile. "Well, if it isn't my old friend!" he said. "Long time no see, Fenchurch!"

"I've missed you too," Fenchurch replied. "Of course, facing opposite ways does make things harder to talk, or talk about I suppose, but it minimises the operational headaches."

With their whistles sounding, Sutton and Knowle moved off into the yard to collect their coaches, followed by Newport and Freshwater shortly afterwards.

"Weren't they seen around Sheffield once?" asked a bystander.

"Newport and Freshwater aren't mainline registered, so no," said another. "I have no clue what you're referring to."

Soon, it was the turn of Stepney and Fenchurch to exit the yard. They gently rolled back towards the shunt signal as the first train of the day got underway, two BR Black Terriers puffing away with the MK1 coaches Stepney had delivered the previous day.

They waited for the signal in front to clear as Newport and Freshwater moved out of the yard with their coaches, a rake of old LSWR bogie coaches, and pushed them into the end sidings so they could run round them. This gave Stepney and Fenchurch an opening, so they went to the headshunt and stopped. Sweetie Belle ran back and set the points to the correct siding. Sitting at the end of this siding was an immaculately kept rake of LBSCR four wheel coaches, their paintwork fresh, their brasswork so finely polished it gleamed in the sunlight. Both engines backed down slowly onto the train, with Stepney facing the first guard's coach, and they rolled into them with a gentle bump. Once they had been hooked up, they moved forward again to the headshunt, and then reversed into the Down Platform to form the first departure of the day to Wootton. That day had a very busy timetable, with trains constantly intersecting each other, and some even running down to the Pier Head through the tunnel (which a Terrier could just about squeeze through). In all, quite an exciting day lay ahead.

A few minutes passed, and Stepney got tired of looking at the front of a coach endlessly. "When is Boxhill going to get here?" he asked.

Moments later, a shrill whistle echoed through the air, and Boxhill rattled through with a goods train running direct to Smallbrook Junction. He would be routed into the loop to let Sutton and Knowle return with their train (Newport and Freshwater had run down to the Pier Head first to allow the goods into the loop). At long last, the signal arm dropped, and it was time to go.

"Come on!" Stepney said, and surged backwards, clanging into Fenchurch and pulling the coaches forward.

"Steady on!" Fenchurch replied. "There's plenty of time yet!" The two engines snorted up the grade to Wootton, and despite the fierce gradient they were challenged with made short work of the climb to the station that lay at the end of the line. As Fenchurch had predicted, the lineside was festooned with reporters, cameramen, keen trainspotters (notebooks always at the ready, alongside a few old copies of Ian Allan ABCs and the odd Combined Volume scattered in here and there). Stepney was, like most preserved engines, used to being filmed and photographed, as that sort of clientele frequented Sodor pretty much daily. At Wootton station, the two engines were run round their train, and attached to the other end. Passengers swarmed all across the platform to see the two old engines, who had a combined age of nearly 300 years old. At long last, it was time to go again, and they proceeded back to Havenstreet where Sutton and Knowle were waiting to proceed up from Havenstreet to Wootton. The signal for Stepney (who was now leading the train), was clear, and once the passengers were done getting on and off, they set off with a thunderous roar for the gradient up to Ashey, which was a tough climb even on two Terriers and a few coaches (which were, of course, unpowered). They made the run to Smallbrook Junction in good time, letting the train that had gone to the Pier Head through first, and watched as an underground train rattled by on the mainline.

This pattern went on without a hitch throughout the entire day, and by day's end, all the engines were very happy indeed with all that had been done. As Stepney dropped back onto the shed, his fire was dropped, and he simmered amongst his surviving brothers and sisters, who had all worked together for the first time in several decades.

As he rested, gently, a thought suddenly went across his mind. Duck had gone to the mainland and he had come here. So, what had been happening on the Island of Sodor whilst both of them were away?

Marvellous Machinery, Part 1

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It was a wonderful Spring morning on the Island of Sodor. The sun was out and the birds were singing. Gordon was out on the mainline, pulling the Express. "Marvellous, this!" he said. "The sun is shining, the sky is blue, there's nothing here to spoil the view! I doubt that anything silly will happen today."

Suddenly, there was a roar, and an aircraft flew overhead at great speed. "Great Scott!" cried Gordon. "What was that?"

"I dunno!" Rainbow Dash replied. "But it's an aircraft, all right. There's a new airport on the Island right next to Maron station, so I bet it'll be headed there!"

"It just so happens that Maron is our penultimate stop before Knapford," Gordon smiled. He surged forward as he accelerated to line speed. "EXPRESS COMING THROUGH!"

Other engines also saw the aircraft. Henry looked up as he saw it whizz by. "It's been a long time since I last saw one of those!" he said.

Percy also saw it as he was pulling some goods. "What was that?" he asked. "Was it a UFO?"

"Have you never seen a plane, Percy?" Pinkie asked. "If you haven't, that amazes me, as Sodor sits right underneath an international flight path."

Meanwhile, Gordon finally arrived at Maron, to see the new aircraft flying into position. But it didn't dive in like a conventional plane. Instead, it slowed down and hovered in the air, like a helicopter, before descending vertically and landing on the ground. It was then wheeled to a hanger for safe keeping.

Rainbow Dash looked puzzled. "That paintjob looks familiar," she said, a hand on her chin. "I wonder whose it was?"

Moments later, she got her answer. "Excuse me? Is this the next train to Knapford?"

Rainbow Dash got off the footplate and walked a little way down the platform. Her eyes widened in amazement when she saw who was standing there. Standing there was a woman with deeper blue skin (deeper than Rainbow's anyways) and short, two tone orange hair, with certain strands lighter than the others. Her purple eyes seemed to glimmer in the light, and she wore a cream shirt, an mustard yellow jacket with a green collar, blue pants, and a pair of green shoes.

Rainbow Dash reacted immediately. "Mom!" she called.

This attracted the woman's attention, and she immediately headed up the platform in a spring, before mother and daughter embraced in a tight hug of affection. "Oh, Dashie, I've missed you so much!"

"You too, mom," Rainbow Dash whispered. Suddenly, the station clock boomed. "Oh horseapples! It's time to go! We need to make up some lost time!" Her face fell, as both figures withdrew from the hug. "And I was planning on making an attempt on the class speed record too."

Her mother wasted no time in replying. "Then I'll fire. I remember how to do it, after all."

"You will?" Rainbow Dash replied. "Thanks!"

Both of them scrambled for the footplate as the guard blew his whistle, and waved his green flag. Gordon whistled in response, and they were off! With a snort, Gordon dug into the rails with a roar, and was soon on his way. He was already up to 40 miles an hour when he hit the bottom of Gordon's Hill, and his fire continued to burn white hot as more coal was expertly added. Rainbow Dash checked the speedometer. "I've never seen this before!" she shouted. "We're climbing Gordon's Hill and still accelerating!"

"Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!" Gordon shouted, as he continued to blast his way up the slope, seemingly not noticing that there were 10 coaches behind him. The three cylinder beat echoed across the valley, and he crested the top of the slope at 55 miles per hour. Now came the long downhill section.

"Right!" Rainbow Dash's mother said. "Go for it! Let's see how fast we can go!"

The speed board alerted them to the new speed limit; one hundred miles an hour. Gordon accelerated relentlessly on the steep hill, the weight of the coaches helping to push him along the way. Before long, he was coasting at eighty, and at the bottom of the hill this had increased to ninety. The cab pitched and shook as Gordon pounded the rails relentlessly.

"Papyrus did it! I can do it!" Gordon snorted as he blasted along. As he shot through Wellsworth, he was doing one hundred miles an hour. The passengers leaned out of the windows of the coaches and cheered as the train thundered along, all lights clear and the signals at green. Gordon was producing steam at an incredible rate, with steam pouring from his chimney. It wasn't so much a case of him having to be pushed as Rainbow Dash having to hold him back.

"One o Six, One o Seven..." The speedometer needle crept upward sluggishly. "We have a mile left to complete the run!"

Gordon responded by digging in even harder. The speedometer moved up two positions.

"One hundred and nine!" Rainbow's mother said. "Well done Dashie, you did it!"

Rainbow Dash had to focus on the approaches to Knapford, but was beaming as the train came to a stop in the platform. This was the train's final stop, and this coincided with her lunch break. She knew exactly where to go. They popped over to the Knapford Station Buffet.

Mane Allgood turned to greet the new arrivals. "Good afternoon!" she said. "Oh! Hello Rainbow Dash! Here for your lunch break?"

"Yes, Miss Allgood," Rainbow Dash smiled. "I'll have my usual, please."

"Of course," Mane Allgood smiled. "Coming right up!"

"Is it a pasta and potato sandwich on sourdough!" said Rainbow's mother. "You used to love those!"

"She usually has a bacon and sausage bap, for reference," Mane Allgood replied. "Apologies, but I don't believe we've met. Who are you?"

"Oh! I'm Windy Whistles. I'm Rainbow Dash's mom!"

"Is that a nickname?" Mane Allgood asked again.

"Yeah. It's really Wendy Winters, but I got my nickname when I worked in the aviation industry."

Their food was soon delivered, and they sat down at a nearby table. "Mom," Rainbow Dash asked, "it's not as if I don't appreciate your being here, but why have you suddenly arrived on Sodor?"

"It's all very exciting!" Windy replied. "Sodor has been chosen to host this year's heritage science and technology fair. We're calling it 'Worlds of Tomorrow: The Future, as seen by the Past! We'll be exhibiting vintage electronics, classic machinery, there'll be an old fashioned funfair, some collectors are bringing out engines with them, and I'm exhibiting my Harrier!"

"Your what?" Rainbow asked, mid mouthful.

"My aircraft. It's a Harrier Jump Jet, so named because it can take off and land vertically. This is one of the original British versions, before the patent was sold to Boeing. I first flew one whilst in the Forces, and I've never looked back."

"That sounds great!" Rainbow Dash said. "I'll be sure to tell my friends, so we can all go and help out!"

Mane Allgood, who had overheard the conversation, spoke up. "I can help with catering, as can Mrs Cake in Crovan's Gate. My husband's an engineer, so I think he can help with assembling things!"

"Excellent!" Windy grinned. "It's going to be so amazing!"

Allgood nodded. "I can see that you two are related."


That evening, the engines were debating what would be shown at the exhibition.

"I heard that somebody was bringing a blender," said James.

"There will be vintage machines," Percy noted. "Like cars, and buses, and-"

"We know what vintage vehicles are, Percy!" Gordon snapped.

"But what of the engines?" asked Thomas.

"I expect some LNER machines," said Gordon.

"But what if they are diesels? Or electrics?" asked Henry. "What if they replace us?"

"There's only one electric railway on the island, and that's to 1500V DC," James pointed out. "I don't think we're in any danger."


The next morning, the engines were assigned their duties for helping to assemble Worlds of Tomorrow. Gordon, however, wasn't involved. He had his usual express run to do, and set off on the morning Tidmouth to Vicarstown run. "It does feel good to have some familiarity in my schedule," he said, as he puffed along the line with a smile on his face."

The other engines weren't having so easy a time, however. Henry had been assigned to hauling a long heavy train of steel rods and beams. It was very long and very heavy. "Oh dear!" he said. "That load does look unstable."

"The foreman assures me that it's tied down correctly," Fluttershy said. "I think it'll be safe." And off they went towards the Sodor Exhibition Centre located near Cronk, which conveniently had rail access and a locomotive demonstration line. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before things started to go wrong.

Later that day, Gordon came across Henry. Or rather, detonators alerted him to the problem on his return trip. He came to a stop just in front of the danger zone. "What happened here?" he asked Henry.

"The load wasn't tied down properly!" Henry said. "Some of the cables snapped on a bend and the pipes fell off onto the track!"

"We're currently awaiting a rescue crew, but they're busy cleaning up some derailed vans near Wellsworth," Fluttershy added. "We could be stuck here for a while."

Gordon simmered crossly. "Our passengers will have to take a rail replacement bus," he said. "Oh, the indignity."

He wasn't the only one concerned. With all the delays, assembly work on the Fair slowed to a crawl, and several of the guests were already starting to arrive.


One of these engines was just pulling into Vicarstown station. He had had a long journey from his home in Yorkshire, and was looking forward to taking a rest. He had two leading wheels, six driving wheels, and two trailing wheels underneath a split footplate, as well as squat, square shaped water tanks that extended almost to his smokebox, a nicely proportioned cab, but an oddly conical bunker attached to the back of the cab. He also had a large dome with a top feed before that. He was painted bright red with yellow and orange lining, and his tanks bore the letters K W V R. Inbetween the W and the V was the crest of his home railway.

"I hope we get there soon!" he said. "It's been a long journey, Clear!"

His driver poked her head out of the cab. She had pink skin and bright blue eyes, along with hair in multicoloured strands of light pink, white, and an oddly faint blue. She was currently clad in a yellow shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of blue and white trainers. "It's not far now, Arthur," she reassured him. "Just a few miles down the line and we'll be there."

The cab radio suddenly blared. "Vicarstown Control, this is 41241, over."

"41241, this is Vicarstown Control, path is clear. You have permission to pass the station limits and proceed to the Exhibition Centre, over."

"Vicarstown Control, this is 41241, understand that I have permission to pass the station limits and proceed to the Exhibition Centre, out." The signal dropped, and Clear opened Arthur's regulator, leading him gently into the distance.

Neither of them saw a rather shady looking man in the background, dressed in a long trench coat. "Exhibition centre, eh?" he said. "I bet there'll be something there with which I can get my revenge."


Elsewhere, the island's rail system was in a bit of a mess. The mobile cranes had only just cleared up the derailed vans, but the vans couldn't go anywhere until the pipes that had fallen off Henry's train had been cleared. The whole thing was causing everything to get jammed up.

Eventually, the mess was cleaned up, and work on setting up the Exhibition Centre could commence. Tables were put up and stands were assembled, and locomotives were marshalled into the yard ready for their outdoor display. Windy Whistles was monitoring everything when Arthur puffed in. "Hello!" she called. "I'm Windy Whistles, organiser of Worlds of Tomorrow. Can you please tell me your name, your engine's name, and your exhibitor number?"

Clear Sky secured Arthur in position, and then hopped down from the footplate. "I'm Clear Sky. The engine's name is Arthur, and my exhibitor number is 20205042019."

Windy typed that into her tablet. "Thank you Clear! You may park your engine over there, next to the BR Standard."

Clear nodded, and she and Arthur moved off to the yard, where they parked behind Barry. Neither spotted the fishy looking man there as well.

Moments later, Gordon rolled in with some more passengers. "Here are the last of the guests who aren't bringing engines," he said, and then he saw another loco nearby. "Hello Green Arrow!"

The V2 looked over. "Are you Gordon? Thomas mentioned you a few times when he was at York!"

"Indeed I am!" Gordon smiled.

Rainbow Dash hopped off the footplate, as Windy wanted to talk to her. "I want to thank all of you for your help today," she said. "Without the help of the railway, getting everything here would have been a real hassle. But the best is yet to come. See the demonstration line over there?"

"Yes?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"We're showing off a guest engine on that line, and boy will he bring a big stir!"

"Erm, Windy?" called Snap Shutter. "Sorry to sound like a drongo, but where can Mane plug in her oven? The kitchen is nowhere near big enough to accomodate the supplies we'll need to feed the projected visitor numbers!"

"You can use the backup kitchen in the upper floors!" Windy called back.

"Thank you!"

"What's a drongo?" asked Gordon.


At long last, the fair was ready to open. Windy Whistles stepped forward to address the crowd from the stage at the front of the SEC. "Good evening, everybody!" she called. "I hope you all had a pleasant journey coming here, and that you enjoy Worlds of Tomorrow. A chance to see the future as the minds of the past envisioned it! To open the fair, we shall be showcasing an engine who is 60 years old this year!"

The crowd looked outside, as Snap Shutter took up the microphone. "He was built in 1955 to work top link expresses from London to Edinburgh, and can run at 106 miles per hour for sustained periods with 15 coaches behind him. Ladies and Gentlemen, I am proud to present... DP1!"

The lights flared up, and a diesel roared into view before rolling to a stop. He was very long, and had squat front ends and a long body, with cab windows perched atop the engine bonnets. He was belching smoke, and making an absolute racket as he did so. He had an array of lights on his front end, including a big top light, under which sat a plaque with text ENGLISH ELECTRIC. He was painted blue with cream lining and cream 'cat's whiskers' on the front (or rear, depending where you were driving from), and the word DELTIC painted on either side.

Gordon frowned. "A Deltic," he said. "Looks like I may be replaced after all!"

Marvellous Machinery, Part 2

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The fair had barely started operating, and already Deltic was proving to be the most popular exhibit. He had been hooked up to a pair of coaches, and was doing circuits of the demonstration line for happy passengers (your admission ticket got you, amongst other things, unlimited train rides). Several people were watching and listening.

"He sure is loud!" Rainbow Dash said.

"Indeed," Gordon replied. "One can only wonder what sort of racket he will make when they put him on the Express."

"Gordon, nobody said anything about replacing you," Rainbow Dash said. The boarding platform faced Gordon's current position, and as Deltic rolled to a halt to let the passengers off, he decided to speak up.

"Hello, old chap!" he said. "Are you Gordon the express engine?"

"Yes, I am," Gordon replied. "I thought you were at Shildon!"

"He was, until recently," said a voice, as a man hopped down from his cab. He looked to be an older gentleman, with blue skin and two tone grey hair. His orange eyes had a calm and relaxed tone, and he wore blue pants, a heavy blue bomber jacket with a shirt under that, a white scarf (done up in an immaculate Windsor knot, and black boots. "However, I arranged for him to be restored to full working condition. I mean, if York can restore a V2 to working order and replace almost every part in the process, they can repair an oil leak."

Lightning Dust jogged over to the man. "Hi dad!" she called. "How's Deltic holding up?"

"He runs like a dream, just like I said he would." The man glanced back to Rainbow Dash and Gordon. "Name's Will Ryan, or Wind Rider if you will."

"Former holder of the Mustang Marathon record?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"Indeed," Wind Rider replied. "Longest distance flight by a P-51 Mustang for 20 years. A back injury put paid to flying, but luckily I turned to railways instead. This is my daughter, Lightning Dust."

"I hear you are a fine and noble engine," said Deltic. "You went all the way to London when a diesel fell over in the yard!"

Gordon was stunned. He had expected the diesel to be arrogant and rude, but instead he seemed to be perfectly pleasant. "Why, thank you," he said. "You're not as snooty as I was expecting.

"Well, being stuck in a siding and unable to move for over 50 years does humble one considerably," Deltic replied. Just then, the guard's whistle blew. "Sorry! Must dash! Goodbye!" And off he went, with a fresh load of passengers.


The next morning, it was Arthur's turn on the demonstration line. James had just brought in some more passengers to the Fair, and one of the inventors was showcasing a piece of historic equipment.

"Hello, everybody!" he said. "I am Doctor Gelato, and I have a vintage ice cream making machine to showcase!" He pulled the cover off to reveal a very strange contraption. "I found this in the attic of a fellow scientist who had no further use for it. I bought it, and then restored it to full working order based on the original plans. According to the specifications, it produces the frothiest, tastiest milkshakes in the world!"

"I thought you said it made ice cream," said Snap Shutter, who looked from a distance.

"It makes both, through mixing items through special tubes and pipes, with extra pieces to break them down."

There was a pause. "It's a blender. You're showcasing a blender."

Doctor Gelato looked defeated. "Yes, it's a blender. But I can still make a milkshake with it!"

Just then, Mane Allgood handed Scootaloo a mug. "This is Doctor Gelato's tea," she said. "You wouldn't mind giving it to him?"

"Sure thing, mom!" Scootaloo replied. She walked carefully to the stand, and placed the cup down on the table. "Here's your tea, sir!"

"Thank you!" said Doctor Gelato. "Would you like to be my volunteer to try a milkshake?"

"Yes please!" Scootaloo replied. She stepped up onto the stage, whilst Doctor Gelato operated some levers. The machine began to whirr, and mix ingredients. "Does it make blue flavour?"

"I think so," said Doctor Gelato. "I haven't quite finished ironing out the-"

Suddenly, Scootaloo was sprayed with thick milkshake liquid, which left her looking quite the mess.

"-Bugs."

"I'll go get changed," she said, and quickly hurried off.

Snap Shutter shook his head. "I see exactly why that happened," he said. "The valves aren't tied on correctly. I can secure them more tightly and the machine should work properly."

"Please do," the Doctor said. "I am terribly sorry for that mess."

"We all make errors, it's how we learn from them that counts."


Wind Rider had just collected his tea before going back on exhibiting duties, when he suddenly bumped into Clear. "Oh!" he said. "Clear Sky! What a surprise!"

"You too," Clear Sky replied. "How are things in York?"

"They're going as well as I think they can. Lightning Dust's coping well in school. Maybe you should visit her sometime? How's Wind?"

"As moody as ever," Clear Sky said sadly. "I don't think she coped very well."

Wind Rider nodded. "It was probably for the best, though," he admitted. "Our careers were rather pulling us apart."

Clear Sky nodded in return. "Well, I'd best be getting back on duty," she said. "It was nice to see you again."

As Wind Rider walked back over, Rainbow Dash raised a question. "Who was the woman?"

"That's Clear Sky, Arthur's owner," Wind Rider replied. "She used to be my wife. We had two kids together, Lightning Dust and Wind Sprint. Sadly, our careers pulled us apart, and we amicably separated. Lightning chose to stay with me, and Wind went with her. I'm still on friendly terms with her, and I'm glad she's found somebody else."


That evening, the visitors gathered to see another machine be showcased. "Ladies and gentlemen!" Snap Shutter called. "Please give it up for the Harrier Jump Jet!"

Just then, Windy's Harrier flew over in a flash of speed and noise. It turned and curved through the air, before performing a midair stop with the help of the thrust control nozzles, and then flew backwards for a short period, before landing vertically.

"The Harrier Jump Jet is a Vertical Takeoff and Landing aircraft, or VTOL for short. Able to lift off from dodgy runways or take off like a conventional aircraft, this particular example flew during the Falklands War. I am proud to announce that very shortly, we will be seeing another variant of this aircraft, the version built under license by Boeing."

Just then, another aircraft roared over and touched down on another part of the landing strip. Vertically.

"The last British examples were withdrawn in 2010, and are set to be replaced by the F-35. However, the aircraft is still in use with the United States Marine Corps and some branches of the United States Navy."

The pilot of the American Harrier, once the engines had cooled and the engines had spooled down, hopped out of the cockpit and walked over to the main exhibition area, where Windy was. Both pilots looked like astronauts who had just come back from a mission to Mars, holding their helmets under their arms and smiling. The other pilot was a man with medium blue skin and rainbow hair that looked like it had once been in a mohawk, but now dropped pathetically and had been reduced to a simple, short, military cut. He also had yellow eyes, and per flying convention was wearing a flight suit.

"Heya Windy!" he called. "Great to see you again!"

"I know!" Windy replied. "Glad you could make it, Bow."

Rainbow Dash, who was nearby, quickly jogged over. "Hi dad!" she called. "Did you fly all the way from Canada?"

"As much as I'd have liked to, I didn't," Bow admitted. His real name was Ben Holton, but went by his nickname for ease of communication. "An Aircraft Carrier got me as far as the coast, and then I flew in."

"That was some impressive stuff," Windy smiled. "I haven't seen this many aircraft of this type together since I was in the forces back in Canada!"

"I can't recall Canada using Harriers, though there was that joint exercise with the British," Bow recalled. "The aircraft are locked down, and we're good to go for the night. I suggest we get dinner at the canteen and catch up on all the craziness that's been going on!"

As the family walked away, the mysterious man smiled. "Oh, it's about to get a lot more crazy," he smiled.


Another day dawned, and James was at the festival grounds when suddenly-

"There's a thief on the site!" shouted Bow, as he and Windy ran outdoors.

"What's going on?" Snap Shutter asked.

"Somebody stole the starter keys from our aircraft!" Windy added. "I don't know how they plan to take them, but the keys are nontheless missing, and-"

"HELP! I HAVE NO DRIVER!"

Both of them looked over to see Arthur steaming out of the yard, with no crew, and straight onto the main line. "What in the?" Snap Shutter said. "James, get after him!"

"Yes sir!" James called, and sped off, soon moving alongside Arthur on the mainline.

Rarity radioed control. "Control, this in NWR 5, over."

"NWR 5, this is Control, how do you read, over?"

"Runaway engine headed towards Vicarstown. I suggest shutting all the lines to and from Vicarstown, over."

"Roger that, alerting all boxes and setting signals to danger, out."

Rarity leaned over as they were now level with Arthur. "I don't have any rope, so I can't do what Applejack did," she said. "But, I have an idea!" She shut James' regulator and applied the brakes, and them jumped over to Arthur's footplate, shutting his regulator and applying his brakes. Arthur rolled gently into a siding on the correct side of the line, and stopped.

"I don't know what happened?" the smaller red engine said. "One minute Wind Sprint was tending to my motion, the next I was rolling out of control with no driver!"

"Perhaps is was a distraction?" James suggested.


Indeed it was. At that very moment, Deltic roared out of the yard, with a familiar face at the controls of the terrified prototype diesel.

"It's Storm King!" Rainbow Dash shouted.

"See you later, suckers!" Storm King shouted as he vanished out of sight.

"He's stolen my engine!" Wind Rider shouted, as he sprinted over. "One second I was monitoring the engine performance, the next he was whizzing away."

"How much fuel does he have left?" Winy asked.

"I only put very little in the tank for testing purposes. He won't get very far. But we need something with which to chase him down and avoid causing a massive accident."

"I can catch up with him," said a voice. They all turned to see Gordon sitting there. "I can get there in a giffy."


Storm King was expecting a very easy escape with a stolen engine. "Nobody can stop me from getting revenge!" he laughed.

"We're breaking the speed limit somewhat!" Deltic said.

"I don't recall asking your opinion, tin can," Storm King said. "Imagine how much money I'll be able to get for one of these on the market."

There was a loud whistle from behind. Storm King wound down the window to see Gordon approaching at high speed on the other line. "Where did you come from?"

"Doncaster, originally," Gordon replied, and he was soon drawing level with Deltic.

On the footplate, Rainbow Dash was keeping a close eye on the controls and firing continously. "Right, we're level!" she called over the radio. "Mom, dad, start interference!"

A pair of Harrier Jump Jets started buzzing the Deltic, to distract Storm King. In the meantime, Wind Rider prepared to jump into the rear cab of his engine. "I'm almost ready!" he called.

Just then, there was a cough, and a splutter. Deltic's engine abruptly stopped. "What's going on?" Storm King demanded.

"My dear boy," Deltic replied, "I will struggle to run when my fuel tank is empty."

Wind Rider chose his moment and jumped across, grabbing onto the handrails, and climbing up the cab steps. He swung the door open, and then shut, and took his seat at the console. With one singular effort, he applied both locomotive and train brakes to the emergency positions.

Deltic's brake blocks screeched and glowed white hot as he slowed down. They were coming up on the station approaches, and the runaway engine skidded into a platform and stopped inches from a red signal.

Storm King had been thrown onto the floor by the sudden deceleration, and got up, annoyed. "My plans have been ruined again!" he said.

There was a knock on the cab door, and a policeman opened it. It was the Chief Constable. "Mr Storm King? I have a warrant for your arrest."


It was the final day of the fair, and the engines were sad. "Thanks for saving me, old fellow," Deltic said to Gordon. "I'm not sure what I would have done otherwise. Causing a big accident on my first few days in traffic? Leicester forbid!"

"I must admit I am sorry for my previous distrust of you," Gordon admitted. "You are a fine engine indeed."

"All is forgiven. Fancy double heading at some point?"

Meanwhile, the adults were all conversing. "So," Windy said. "I've decided that I'm going to stay here on Sodor, and we can all live together as one family again!"

"So am I," Bow added. "We spent far too much time apart back in Canada, and now's the chance to make up that lost time. But all of these locomotives are Marvellous Machines indeed, and really useful to boot."

As they said that, the sky lit up with fireworks.

Pear Stands In

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Apple Bloom wasn't feeling at all well. She was pale, and also had a temperature. Safe to say, she wouldn't be going to work today. "Ma, Ah think Ah need ta call in sick," she said. "Ah don't feel too good."

Pear was, of course, concerned about her daughter's health, and her motherly instincts kicked in almost instantly. "Ah'm not surprised. Ya look like a ghost. Go lie down until ya feel better."

"Who will do my work though? There's nobody ta drive Duck, and that'll be unfair on Oliver, Stepney, Scootaloo, an' Sweetie Belle!"

Pear had an idea. "Ah'll do it! Ah used ta drive steam engines, remember?"

Apple Bloom looked surprised, but in her weakened state was in no position to argue. "OK. Do ya need me ta run ya through the controls?"

"Ah'm certain Ah'll be fine," Pear replied. "Now get some rest."

"Watch out fer the brake handle! It's rather-"

But Pear was already out of the door and on her way to Arlesburgh Yard. Grand Pear sighed as he watched. "Where's she goin'?" he asked. "Looks like Granny Smith an' Ah will be helpin' look after Apple Bloom today."

At the shed, Scootaloo had got Oliver ready for service. He didn't have passenger duties earmarked for today, though. That was for Duck. He was to do some shunting in Arlesburgh Yard first, and then take a trip freight to Tidmouth. "Where's Apple Bloom?" Scootaloo asked. "I've warmed Duck up, but I can't see her anywhere."

"Nor can I," Oliver added. "Where could she be?"

"Sick," said a single voice, and Pear strode into view before climbing on Duck's footplate. "Ah'm fillin' in fer her today. Ah've already cleared it with Sir Toppham Hatt, and Ah know how ta handle steam engines, so there we are."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Duck asked. "We'll need an Auto-coach for my morning passenger run."

"Ah just said Ah'm qualified ta operate steam engines, and the Auto-coach is there, in the Platform."

"That's Isabel!" Duck protested. "She's Oliver's coach!"

"Where's yours?" Pear asked.

"Dulcie and Mirabel are in that siding," Duck explained. "Sometimes I operate as an auto-sandwich on busy days, but I don't think we'll need that today."

"If ya say so." Pear released Duck's brakes, and opened the regulator- immediately sending Duck's wheels into a spin.

"NOT THAT MUCH REGULATOR!"

Pear was quick to discover that driving a Pannier Tank was rather different to operating a narrow gauge engine. As they approached the first station, she applied the brakes, and was rather surprised when they sailed clean through and stopped on the other side. "Huh?"

"You didn't apply enough braking force," Duck replied. "I need a good deal of brake to stop, by the way."

"Oops, sorry." Pear wound the reverser back around and backed the train up into the platform. By the time they got to Tidmouth, they were running late. Pear switched the automatic stoker on, as she would be driving from the auto-coach for the return trip, and set the trim valves to automatically fill the boiler when water got below a certain level. However, she had made a few mistakes. Firstly, she had not put the brakes on correctly, and there was little braking force holding Duck still. Second, she had not completely closed his regulator. Narrow Gauge engines only had one regulator setting, but bigger engines have two valve positions, called first and second. If the regulator is not closed correctly from second valve, the regulator can slide open. Enginemen know that slamming the regulator open and then shutting it again cures the problem, but Pear did not know this. Finally, she had left the reverser in full reverse, not neutral. As she stood on the platform, waiting for the connecting train, it happened.

A passing porter slipped on a banana peel, and the box he was carrying flew through the air and bashed into Duck's regulator handle and his brake lever. The brake lever was knocked off, and the regulator slid to full open.

Duck knew something was wrong when his wheels began to move. "Help!" he shouted. "Some help here, please!"

Pear sprinted down the platform as fast as she could, but Duck was a small, but powerful engine. He was accelerating so quickly that she couldn't keep up, and he shot off down the Arlesburgh Branch and out of sight.

"Oh no," she said. "How will we stop him now?"

"Do you need a hand, or should I say a propellor, ma'am?"



Duck continued to speed along the line, seeing the world flying away from him. He had no idea how fast he was going, but he suspected he was braking the speed limit.

"STOP! STOP!" shrieked Dulcie, but Duck had plenty of steam. Not only that, his automatic stoker and water trimming valves would supply as much fuel as needed to prevent his boiler from drying out.

"I have to stop, I have to stop!" Duck panted, but of course he could not. He was still whizzing along, when overhead he saw a marvellous sight. Thundering through the sky was Harold the Helicopter, with Pear in the cargo compartment.

"Get ready!" Soarin' called. "I'm opening the cargo bay doors now!" Both sets of doors slid open, and a crane deployed to one side. Pear, wearing a harness and attached to a cable, held on as the chopper started to descend.

"Keep it steady!" she called.

"Roger that!"

"We're almost down!" Harold called. "Start lowering the winch!"

"Understood, over!"

At long last, Pear was level with Duck's cab, and she scrambled aboard. With an effort, she disengaged the automatic stoker and trim valves, and slammed the brakes on, before slamming his regulator open and shut.

"Thanks for the help!" Duck called to Harold.

"Glad to help, old chap!" Harold replied, and whirred away.

Pear whiped her forehead. "Ah think Ah'd best leave this line ta Apple Bloom in future," she said. "Nearly causin' a crash on yer first run is not a good start."

Duck could only agree.

BoCo and the Brake Tender

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One morning, Flying Scotsman was being filled up with coal at Tidmouth. He had worked a railtour to Sodor the previous day, and was being prepared for his return trip. As he was waiting for refuelling to be completed, he saw Stepney steam past with a rather odd looking, low slung bogie wagon. He instantly knew what it was.

"Great Scott!" he said. "That's a brake tender! I had no idea any of those had survived."

"Beats me," Stepney said. "I didn't know what it was either."

"A brake tender," explained Flying Scotsman, "is a device that has weights in it, which is used to help a heavy train slow down. They were frequently paired with diesels, who often had weaker brakes than steam engines. But who is it for?"

"Me, of course," said a voice. With that, BoCo rolled into the yard and gently into the tender. He was pulling a long train of unfitted wagons. Filthy Rich hopped out of the cab and hooked BoCo up to it.

"It doesn't look like a tender," Sweetie Belle pondered. "It has no coal or water in it!"

"Diesel engines don't need either," Filthy Rich laughed. "But I think this is one of only a handful left in the world."

"One of only two," BoCo replied. "The other's somewhere in the Midlands. But seeing this again certainly brings back memories. I remember when I was given mine, not long after I was built."

"Could you tell us the story?" Spitfire asked.

"Of course!" BoCo replied, and the story began...


1957


An inspector had come to the Midland Region to investigate the success of the BR Modernisation Program. Many designs of diesels had been built to see which practices worked best and which didn't, and in one case query whether it was money well spent. As he observed, D5705, then newly built and entered into traffic, rattled through with a rake of loaded wagons, smoke belching from his engines.

"Were those unfitted wagons?" he asked the manager.

"Yes, they were," the manager said. "But he was only doing 35 miles per hour."

"That's unsafe railway practice," said the inspector. "Trains hauled by Type 2 diesels must have brake tenders fitted, as they have far lower braking force than steam engines."

"I am sorry," the manager replied. "I was not aware."

"I have a solution, though," said the inspector. "The Eastern Region is experimenting with brake tenders. These are rail vehicles filled with loose metal that help a diesel slow down. That'd work perfectly for your lower rated diesels. I'll call Doncaster and ask if they can send you one. Apart from that, modernisation is proceeding on time and on budget."

"I'll alert the diesels to this new innovation," the manager said. The next morning, he spoke to D5705, and told him what the inspector had said. "From now on," he said, "until we can replace our unfitted wagons with fitted wagons, we will be pairing you with a brake tender."

"A what?" D5705 asked. A small, odd, green and yellow wagon sat in front of him.

"A brake tender is a rail vehicle filled with loose metal that help a diesel slow down," the manager replied, repeating what the inspector had told him yesterday. "Here at Barrow, we have lots of unfitted wagons, so equipment like this will be absolutely vital. I want you to give it a test on an unfitted goods to Carnforth later today."

"Yes sir," D5705 replied. He was later attached to classmate D5701, and both diesels were coupled into the goods, which was long and heavy. Then another diesel shunted the brake tender into place in front of him. "Why is it at the front? I thought they were normally at the back!"

"I thought likewise," said the diesel, a Brush Type 4. "But the yard manager told me to put it in front."

"How will I see where I'm going?" asked BoCo, confused.

"Easy!" said the driver. "Leave that to me." And so, the long, heavy goods train set off, both diesels roaring and belching smoke. At first, nothing went wrong. But then, as he waited to enter Carnforth Yard, a Jinty flew past laughing.

"Doesn't he look silly!" said the Jinty. "Tenders go at the back, not the front!"

More and more engines kept giving the two diesels nonsense, until D5705 had had enough. "That's it," he said. "We'll leave it here. We handled those trucks fine without it, and we'll do it again."

Later, a foreman arrived to tell them something. "There's been a track issue on the Cumbrian Coast," he said. "We're routing all trains up to Oxenholme, and sending them back via Hincaster Junction. You'll have to run round your train at Oxenholme yard and proceed back down the line."

D5705 didn't like the sound of that. "Can't we just top and tail, with one diesel on each end?" he suggested.

"Good idea!" said the foreman. "D5701, stay where you are. D5705, work to the other end!"

A Duchess, watching from nearby, looked concerned as the two diesels departed, sans brake tender. "That's not good," she said. "If they're going via Hincaster, they'll have difficulty controlling speed with that lot."


The lines climbs sharply from Carnforth to Oxenholme, and the extra weight, even with two diesels supplying power, made the run slow going. At last, they reached Oxenholme, and reversed direction to access the junction. But as they rolled away, the trucks all slammed into each other. "Faster! Faster! As fast as you want!"

"What the?" said D5705. Both drivers slammed on their brakes as they tried to control the weight of the train, but it was no use. Speed continued to climb as they roared towards Hincaster Junction, and when they hit the speed restricted curve, it was too late. Engines and trucks tipped over and derailed, with the wagons being scattered all over the West Coast Mainline, and both diesels being deposited in a nearby field. "Oh dear."

The manager was not happy. When he arrived at the scene with the breakdown train, he had much to say. "Now both of the major rail lines in the area are blocked," he said. "Where is your brake tender?"

"Back in Carnforth," D5705 replied. "I left it there after a Jinty mocked me over it."

"I'll give him an earful," said the manager.

"Sir, railway locomotives don't have ea-"

"Yes, thank you Bernard."

D5705 was soon back in working order, and always took his brake tender with him. As for the Jinty, well... let's just say he had several long weeks of nothing but shunting.

Thomas the Tender Engine

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Thomas the Tank Engine is normally confined to his branch line, where he works passenger trains, goods trains, shunts sidings, and many other varied actions on the line. However, there are some days when he has to take stock along the main line when another engine isn't available. Admittedly, it is rare when this happens, given the number of engines that now reside on the island, but it does still occur. Thomas is rarely happy when it does happen.

"For all my desire to see the world," he said, one morning, as he puffed along, "I do enjoy staying on my branch line. It's scenic, and I know it very well. "But how can I run it if I'm never on it?"

"Sir Toppham Hatt knows what he's doing," Twilight told him. "Besides, there's a lot of goods to shift. The harbour at Barrow is out of action, so all goods that would have been landed there is being landed at Tidmouth instead, customs cleared, and then shipped onwards to the mainland where it is needed."

And it was an incredibly busy few days. The repairs to Barrow Harbour took a lot longer than expected, and every engine that was in running order was being pushed into service to help clear the backlog of goods at Tidmouth. Thomas struggled into Knapford Junction with one such load to refill his tanks.

Just then, James flew through with a laugh. "Look at Thomas! Trying to do tender engine work, are we?"

"At least I can work without a truck attached to my bunker!" Thomas snapped. He was in a very bad mood.

"Thomas," Twilight said, "don't let them get to you. If you're worked up you can't concentrate on the thing that you're doing. And then accidents will happen just like that!"

"It's been a very long time since I had an accident," Thomas replied, the point sailing completely over his smokebox. "I hope that continues."

By the time Thomas got to Wellsworth, he was exhausted, and had to refill his tanks again. As Twilight was filling him up, BoCo rattled down the hill with empties bound for the harbour. Attached to his front was a strange bogie wagon with a curved top.

"What's that?" Thomas asked, innocently.

"It's called a brake tender," said BoCo. "It's a long truck filled with heavy objects that increases my braking force. This will allow me to come to a complete stop more easily. Luckily, the next train is entirely of fitted wagons, so I won't need it for my next trip. You're welcome to use it then if you'd like."

"I think I'll be able to manage," Thomas replied. "It's fuel capacity that's the issue, I think."

"My offer still stands," BoCo answered, as he pulled away.

Thomas had an incredibly hard time getting over the hill. The trucks, silly and noisy as always, refused to cooperate, and going up required constant work. Going down was no easier, with the brakes set to emergency more or less the entire way. Thomas was worn out when he returned to the sheds that evening, and hoped things would be better tomorrow.

They weren't. The next morning, Twilight filled him in on their work as she lit his fire. "We've got a pickup goods to work on the branch today," she said. "We need to collect empty wagons at every station and then drop them at Knapford Junction for another engine to take onwards."

"Oh great," Thomas yawned. "More heavy trucks. My lucky day."

It would prove to be very hard work. Thomas' brakes were quite weak, and as a consequence he had long stopping distances. Stations passed and the train grew longer and longer. When he arrived at Knapford Junction, there was no engine to take the train onwards to Barrow.

"Looks like we're going down the mainline again," Twilight sighed.

"Indeed we are," Thomas sighed. When he got to Wellsworth, he had to stop for water (again). As his tanks were refilled, he spotted the brake tender sitting on a neighbouring siding. "Twilight," he said, "wouldn't a brake tender make the journey down the other side of Gordon's Hill easier?"

"I guess it would, and BoCo did say we could borrow it," Twilight replied. "Good thinking, Thomas! Let's go get it right away!"

The brake tender was added, but Thomas hadn't realised something critical. As he went up the hill, the train got slower and slower. "This doesn't seem right," he said.

And he was. The brake tender had added more weight to the train, and Thomas could barely shift it. He applied his brakes- too soon, too hard- and the coupling connecting the trucks to the brake tender snapped. The trucks rolled backwards down the hill and derailed all over the track, blocking it.

Thomas, in the meantime, was sliding backwards down the hill, the brake tender dragging him back. "Drop the tender!" he shouted.

But Twilight couldn't uncouple it safely, and the brake tender (and Thomas) slammed into the derailed stock, knocking them off the track as well.

BoCo later arrived with a breakdown train, and Sir Toppham Hatt onboard. "Playing tender engines, are we?" He asked. "Well, I think you can see now that tenders do not suit you. You also must not take things that are not yours. I hope you will reflect on that, as you shall remain here, at the lineside, whilst we get this mess cleaned up."

"Sir, I did offer to let him use it," BoCo said.

"That," said Sir Toppham Hatt, "was most foolish of you. The yards at Tidmouth are short of a shunter now, and I think a Metropolitan Vickers Type 2 will do the trick just nicely."

Thomas was there for hours as the brakedown train cleaned up the mess. The delays were palpable, and the other engines laughed at him as they passed. They all thought it was hilarious.

Thomas did not, and simply vanished in a cloud of steam to hide himself from those watching.

The Dark Discovery, Part 1

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Morning broke-

No, I've used that introduction far too many times in this series. How about we start with something a little more imaginative, eh?

The morning had arrived on Sodor, but it was not the bright, cheerful sort of morning. The sky was dark and heavy with rainclouds, and the air had this distinct wet quality to it. Rain was pouring incredibly heavily out of the sky seemingly from bottomless buckets, and the ground was quickly becoming waterlogged. Thunder also boomed in the sky, but from very far away.

In the small shed at Arlesburgh West, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo were both getting their engines ready for service and huddling out of the rain, worried they would get splashed by the massive raindrops.

"I've never seen a storm like this!" Sweetie Belle said, as she sat on Stepney's footplate, trying to stay near the fire. "Some of those raindrops were so big they were exploding on the ground!"

"Tell me about it," Scootaloo replied. "In the orphanage where I used to live, there was a giant hole in the roof. Water would often cascade in that way and drop off the rafters."

"Texas got some pretty bad storms back in the day." Apple Bloom suddenly chimed in with her anecdote. "Bein' right on the Gulf o' Mexico, hurricanes and tropical storms would deposit large amounts of water inland and make a mess. Mah uncle, who lives in Houston, got flooded out of his house once!"

"Is he alright?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"He took out flood insurance, so he's fine. They even rebuilt his house for him too."

"All this talking," Donald groaned. "It makes me wheels wobble to think of such a storm! One of the worst was the flood that put the Kirkcudbright branch out of action!"

"And we were stranded there until they could fix the line!" Lyra noted. "That's once place I don't really miss."

"Especially after we rescued you later!" Douglas laughed.

"I do owe you that one," Lyra noted.

"Thanks!" Bon-Bon replied.

"Anyways," said Duck, suddenly. "We need to be ready for anything today, as the weather is especially bad. There was talk of a dam having structural problems in a nearby valley, but we need to be on guard. Percy has experience in being a submarine, after all."

"You lot!" called the foreman. "Listen up, as we have some work for you today. Donald, Douglas, Lyra, Swee-

"My name is Bon-Bon," Bon-Bon replied, looking infuriated. "Not Sweetie Drops. I thought we'd already been over this!"

"So it is," the foreman answered. "You are needed to move a goods train to Tidmouth. Normally, Murdoch would handle this sort of thing, but he's too heavy for the trackbed here, so you two get to have the fun."

"It'll be just like ol' times, eh Douggie?" Donald smiled. "Relieving a 9F at Dumfries and workin' all the way to Stranraer!"

"Though nowhere near as far," Douglas noted.

"Stepney, Oliver, you're on passenger trains this morning. Do a good job and be on time. Push Pull operations will allow you to keep time more efficiently."

"You can count on us!" Oliver smiled. "We were practically built to operate with Auto-Coaches."

"That's because you were," Scootaloo noted, confused.

"What about myself and Apple Bloom, sir?" asked Duck, noticing he was yet to receive a work assignment.

"Your job is special," the foreman said. "As you may or may not know, there is a wye off at Haultraugh."

"Wye is it there?" Apple Bloom asked, before she and her fellow Crusaders descended into giggling.

"Very droll," the foreman replied. "Anyways, the track that ran from the wye was left there after the main branch closed to service some local industry. We've linked it back up again and want you to go down there with some trucks to see what's still down there. There's talk of a town in that valley that has been abandoned for a long time, so we need to get some information. Be sure to take lots of pictures!"

"We will!" Apple Bloom replied, as the shed doors swung open and she and Duck set off.


Very little could dampen the spirits of those two. The rails sung beneath them, although they were a bit wet, and Apple Bloom was wearing her cold weather clothes to keep her warm in the conditions. The rain continued to splatter about the area. All you could see was wet, wet, wet.

"Have school exams just finished?" Duck asked.

"Ah think so," Apple Bloom replied. "Why?"

"There's an old saying here in England; the sun always burns hottest during exams. Then, the second the exams are over, the sun vanishes and it rains until September. Although the rains are quite nice, as it helps to keep everything nice and cool after blazing heat. Back when I was at Buckfastleigh, the summer hot season was operated by diesels to minimise the fire risk. The locals should have just watered their plants!"

Apple Bloom laughed at that. "Really? These summers ain't hot when you've lived in a desert." She applied Duck's brakes. "Ah, here we are. That's the junction we need ta take. Right over there!"

Duck looked as the points were switched to let them into the wye. The junction was designed so that this line could be accessed from both directions, and presumably there was a loop at the other end to facilitate a safe run round. But the pointwork on the part that had been left didn't look right.

"Look! Over there!" he said.

"Yeah?" Apple Bloom asked.

"This line was left in place after the rest of the Arlesburgh branch closed, but the points over there are modern power switches, of a design from the early 2000s. Somebody has been at work replacing the points here."

The points had now changed, and the duo set off down the branch. As they rolled along, the trees began to close in, and the weather began to slowly get worse. The sky darkened, although the rain began to slacken off, and the forest felt chilly and cold. Apple Bloom found herself shivering despite her coat, and a fog soon began to settle on the line.

"Could you switch my lamp on?" Duck asked. "I can barely see where I'm going with all this fog."

"Oh, erm, sure," Apple Bloom replied, and flicked a switch in the cab. Duck's lamp switched on (his centre one, as he was running light engine), but even the high intensity light could barely pierce through the gloom. "Ah don't like this one bit."

"Neither do I," Duck replied. The fog slowly thickened, reducing visibility even further for the pair. Eventually, a distant signal, left over after the line had closed, loomed out of the darkness. It had fallen into the down position after decades of neglect, the cables neccessary to move the arm long since rusted away.

The duo moved forward to the next signal, which was the Home signal. It was also in the Danger position, and had a notice attached to it.

BEWARE OF THE DAM

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Duck. He was getting more and more worried. He had no idea there was a dam on Sodor at all.

"Ah probably sound like a stuck record, but Ah'm not likin' the look o' this," Apple Bloom replied. "This feels like somethin' out of a bad horror movie." The pair advanced again, moving past the signal and through another line of creepy trees. Having run for a few more minutes, they suddenly found themselves passing through the remains of a station, and then past some old buildings. Several of them were abandoned shops and houses, with roofs that had already caved in and windows that had been smashed decades ago and the contents looted, but the largest structure by far was a giant water wheel. This loomed over the town, but had long since stopped working. The mill race above it was empty of water, and the bolts holding the wheel in place were badly rusted. The wheel would probably fall off if it were to try to turn, and the collapse would be disastrous if it did, as the town would be flattened. Not that anybody would notice.

The pair proceeded onwards to the end of the line, as it continued onwards into another line of trees. The fog was now even thicker, and the air was oppressive and dark. They finally reached the end of the line, and stopped at a stop board.

DANGER: ENGINES MUST SECURE PERMISSION TO PASS THIS POINT

"Then what's beyond here?" Duck asked. The fog suddenly began to peel away, the air and fog clearing and becoming, although the sky was still dark, visible. The scene slowly unfolded before them, as the sky darkened still and thunder boomed.

Both driver and engine shuddered at the sight before them. "Ya don't think-?" Apple Bloom started.

"Oh no," said Duck, quietly. "This place is a scrapyard!"

The Dark Discovery, Part 2

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The scene before them was grim, to say the least. Lines of scrapped engines, or broken wrecks of engines, stretched out for seemingly miles away. Engines that had once had years of life in them were stuck here, rotting away, and covered in rust and moss. All of them lacked faces, and most looked to have been here for decades. It was a depressing sight for anybody to see, but especially for any lover of transportation or wheeled object. Now Duck knew why this place had been abandoned, and cut off from the rail line. No engine, in their right mind, would want to come here. Sir Toppham Hatt had made it very clear that no engine or machine of his was to be scrapped, which was why the smelter's yard had been closed down and most of its staff arrested for the attempted scrapping of Stepney several months earlier. Arry and Bert had also been reassigned to different duties (it had been ruled that as their drivers had been the ones controlling them, and thus the engines were not responsible for their actions).

But none of that seemed to apply here. Duck could see engines of many different eras, ranging from several Victorian designs (such as a few spinners), and other engines. A North Staffordshire Railway battery electric sat amongst the ruined units, but there was also, sitting amongst the wrecks, a Pannier Tank. This one was the closest to them. The right hand tank had long since fallen off, and the other hung off at a strange angle. The smokebox door hung open in a disturbing manner. It was obvious to all there that this engine was dead.

"Wha- what happened here?" Apple Bloom asked quietly. "Ah think we should le-"

Suddenly, there was a bang and a pop, and something on the scrapped pannier tank gave way. It began to roll towards them, the wheels creaking and groaning, sounding almost like a person howling in pain.

Duck gasped. "Back, Apple Bloom, back! We have to get out of here!"

Apple Bloom had already set his cutoff lever to reverse, and the engine soon moved off, his wheels slipping in desperation as he moved back through the trees. Apple Bloom kept checking behind her as the rolling corpse followed them along the line. She had no idea if her mind was playing tricks on her, but the engine seemed to be speaking to them.

It sounded like one sentence, repeated over and over again. "You left us here to die."

As Duck continued to gain speed, now doing well over 40 miles an hour, he suddenly felt the track lurch underneath him. "We're going the wrong way!" he shouted.

Apple Bloom glanced behind them, and saw they were. Instead of returning to the main line, they were suddenly climbing up the hillside at a sharp angle. "Where are we goin'?" she asked.

She couldn't have known that the bolts holding the point in place had weakened with age, and their passing over it earlier had caused them to fail completely, causing the points to swing open. She shrieked as suddenly a tree branch caught her arm. "Get offa me!"

As both of them continued to gain height, in a state of fully blown panic, they suddenly cleared the treeline, and continued to reverse along the track. Up ahead, they heard a loud cracking noise. It was then an earlier notice made sense.

Up at the very top of the valley they were now in, there was a large dam, holding back a resevoir of water. It seemed as though this dam hadn't been maintained in years, for as they watched, water began to trickle through. With a roar and a crash, the dam gave way, unleashing thousands of gallons of water on the valley.

"Keep moving!" Duck shouted, bouncing up and down on the poorly maintained track.

"What do ya think we're doin'?" Apple Bloom shouted back. "But Ah have no idea where we are!"

Behind them was a bridge that ran over a river. This river, already looking pretty full thanks to recent rain, was about to turn into a raging torrent. Before them was an old bridge. In order to get to safety, they had to chance it.

But it would prove to be folly to do so. As Duck reversed onto the bridge, his wheels came off the track and he derailed on the bridge. Seconds later, a torrent hit the bridge and disconnected it from its posts and the track, causing it to meander down stream in a dangerous manner.

"Let's hope this river ends soon!" Duck said. "This is like something out of a disaster movie!"

Apple Bloom hopped out of the cab to try and see what was going on. The river had become a raging torrent, with water spilling over the sides of the river's banks and flooding the floodplain. Rain poured from on high in big, fat droplets that exploded as they hit the ground, and thunder boomed loudly. Bricks and rocks floated past from the destroyed dam.

Apple Bloom then spotted something that caused her jaw to drop in shock. "Beware of the waterfall?" she squeaked. "We're doomed!"

They had no way of stopping the floating bridge, which was continuing to bob dangerously downstream. Up ahead, the waterfall loomed. It was a sheer drop all the way down. If they went over the waterfall, they would fall to their certain deaths.

Duck began to speak. "Apple Bloom, if this is it, I wan't you to know that I don't regret a thing."

"Me too."

The bridge continued floating along, until a buzzing was audible overhead. Duck looked up. "It's Harold!" he shouted. "HAROLD! DOWN HERE!"

"I can see you, old chap!" Harold called. "I'm going to drop a line to the bridge. Apple Bloom, tie it on. Soarin', hold me steady!"

Harold dropped the rope, and Apple Bloom frantically tied a knot to a damaged beam support. "Tied!"

Harold gunned his engine into reverse, and tried to pull the bridge section back. "Blast it! I haven't got enough strength to counteract the water!"

Just then, Donald and Douglas arrived, running along a line that ran next to the river. Donald had an idea. "Drop the rope to us!" he shouted. "Then attach one to Douggie! We will pull the bridge to safety, where a crane can recover them!"

"Roger that!" Harold called, and dropped the line next to Donald. Lyra tied the rope onto Donald's bufferbeam, and Harold then dropped a second rope to Bon-Bon. She secured it to Douglas, and Harold dropped the other end to Apple Bloom, who tied it onto another section of the bridge.

"Pull, Douggie!" Donald shouted.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Douglas shouted back. Both engines puffed and snorted furiously, with the current working against them. Their wheels slipped and skidded violently on the wet rails, but they never gave up.

"I'm going to have to stop soon!" Bon-Bon shouted to Lyra. "Douglas' boiler pressure is getting dangerously high!"

"Keep working!" Lyra called back. "We can't let them go in the drink!"

At long last, they pulled the bridge in and secured it in place so that a crane could recover them. As Duck was lowered onto the rails on the other side, Sir Toppham Hatt arrived. He was very shocked.

"Goodness gracious me!" he said. "Apple Bloom, Duck, are you alright?"

"Apart from nearly goin' over a waterfall and escapin' a creepy scrapyard full of rottin' engines, yeah, Ah'm OK. Ah'm just glad ta be alive."

"Sir," Duck asked. "Do you know what was in those yards?"

Sir Toppham Hatt sighed. "That short section of line you went down passed through an abandoned town. In the 1870s a stub was built off the old Arlesburgh branch to serve the small town of Great Waterton, which was home to a water mill. That was what the dam was for, to help regulate water flow to the mill, which powered machinery. The branch remained open until the 1940s, when declining traffic and cheaper overseas exports led to it being mothballed. Great Waterton was then evacuated by the army, who used it for urban warfare training. That is why the town looks such a mess."

"But why all the engines there?" Duck asked.

"That's a rather dark tale, and a leftover of one of my predecessors," Sir Toppham Hatt admitted. "When the withdrawal of steam engines from service began on masse in the 1960s, they needed space. So they converted the old Great Waterton site into a scrapyard, to put it bluntly. The engines you saw there were in the process of being broken up, but for some reason they abandoned the site before they could finish. The dam was also unstable, and I believe you two know the rest."

Apple Bloom wiped her brow in confusion and a bit of fear. "No wonder Ah felt like Ah'd seen a ghost," she said. "Because we technically did!"

Percy's Porridge

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The workload on Sodor had increased to truly ridiculous levels, and many of the engines were having a hard time keeping up with the amount of passengers and freight that had to be moved. No sooner had they finished one journey, they were having to prepare to head out for the next. "We get no rest! We get no rest!" they complained.

"Anybody would think we were bone idle, given the amount we seem to have been given," James grumbled, one morning, as he waited for passengers to finish boarding at Knapford.

Rarity sighed. "I know, darling. This workload is simply far too much to keep up with. What we need is another engine?"

"Another engine?" asked Henry. "But we already have so many on this island!"

"I know, but we need another one to relieve us!" James added, as the guard blew his whistle. "Somebody has to be the shiny red engine, and I can't be shiny and red if I'm always covered in muck from working hard!"

Two engines who weren't complaining were Donald and Douglas, the Scottish twins. They quite liked the extra freight, for that matter, and went about their work without complaint or struggle. They even got passenger turns every now and then, as the 812 Class could safely operate at speeds of up to 60 miles an hour. One day, they were rather surprised to see Sir Toppham Hatt's car pull up outside their shed.

"I wonner what this is gonna be aboot?" Donald asked Douglas.

"I dinnae knoow," Douglas replied. "Maybe he wants to give us a special special?"

"I thought we told staff to keep that Miller woman off the shed," Lyra grumbled, as she checked over Donald's working parts. She looked very grubby indeed, which was hardly surprising given the long shifts they worked.

Sir Toppham Hatt strode over to them. "Good morning, you four!" he said, with a smile. "I know that none of you mind hard work-"

"Except Bon-Bon maybe," Lyra joked. Bon-Bon scowled at her in response.

"As I was saying," Sir Toppham Hatt continued. "I know that none of you mind hard work, but you cannot be everywhere at once. One place where help could be used is the branch lines. If I acquired another engine, I could allocate the Ffarquhar Branch freight to it and get a load off your wheels."

Donald and Douglas agreed with that sentiment.

That evening, Sir Toppham Hatt went to his telephone and put in a number, and then waited for the set to pick up. "I hope he still lives there," he said.

"Sunny Skies, how can I help you?" asked a voice.

"Sunny!" said Sir Toppham Hatt. "Hello! How are things in Gloucestershire?"

"They're great, thanks. The Dean Forest is really reliable and also a quite pretty place. Are you going to visit any time soon?"

"I'd like to, but I can't spare the time!" Sir Toppham Hatt replied. "I was wondering if I could hire Wilbert for a period? We're short of an engine and he'd be ideal for the sort of work we need. I don't mean to sound rude, but the Dean Forest is rather short, and I imagine he'd love the chance to stretch his wheels."

"Done and done!" the excitable voice of Sunny Skies replied. "I'll just go tell Torque Wrench. We're having a works party at the moment to celebrate an engine's return to service." There was a brief pause. "Torque Wrench? WE'RE GOING TO SODOR!"

There was another pause. "Oh, yippee."


"We're getting another saddle tank?" asked Percy. "Is he like me, sir?"

"He's bigger and stronger than you are," Sir Toppham Hatt told him. "Besides, you're more than powerful enough to handle your trains. I need him to help out with goods traffic, so you may not even meet him."

"Awww, that's a shame," Pinkie Pie said, as her hair went straight. And the skies began to go grey.

It rained for the next few days. It was a wild and miserable lot, and the engines thought it would never stop raining, the clouds seemingly made of bottomless buckets. Nobody wanted to go out, but passengers and trucks were counting on them, so they had to.

"I'm glad I had porridge this morning!" chirped Pinkie, as she readied Percy for service.

"What's porridge?" asked Percy. He had never heard of this strange substance.

"Well, you make it by boiling oatmeal and water, which produces a thick, gloopy soup. Then you add milk, sugar, and sometimes golden syrup, but I like to add candy and then some more candy, and-"

Toby interrupted her. "Pinkie, you're going to have a heart attack if you're not careful."

"I'm always careful!" Pinkie smiled. "It comes with having a high metabolic rate!"

Percy sighed as they set off for the junction to collect some trucks from the sidings. Some bags were being loaded on the lineside. These bags were then stacked onto the platform, and were supposed to be secured in place. As Percy rolled slowly into the platform, two children (a boy and a girl) suddenly sped onto the platform. Both of these children had yellow skin, green hair, and blue eyes, and both wore matching colours. The boy wore brown shoes, white socks and pants, a white shirt, and a red hoodie. The girl, on the other hand, also wore brown shoes and white socks, but instead of pants wore a white skirt and a red and white striped shirt. She also had a beanie hat nestled in her hair.

"No running!" shouted the porter. But it was too late. One of the children slipped into the other, knocking him over, and sending the first crashing into the sacks. They fell onto the track and burst open with a bang. Oatmeal spilled all over the place, and then was turned into a sticky soup by the rain.

The first child sat up, dazed. "What was that for?" he shouted at the other one, confirming the speaker was a boy.

"What was what for?" said the other, a girl. "You shouldn't have been in my way!"

"It's hard to get out of the way when there's somebody tailgating me!"

"Whatever, Pickle." The girl got up, sodden with rain. "Let's hope there are no trains."

"Err, Barley?" the boy, presumably Pickle, said. "There's a train coming!"

Just then, Percy rolled into the platform. Due to the wet rails, he couldn't stop in time, and porridge splashed everywhere.

Pinkie stepped off the footplate and put some of the porridge on her finger, and then licked it. "Yummy!" she said. "Now you know all about porridge, Percy!"

"Yuck!" said Percy.

"Isn't he dirty, eh?" said the girl, Barley.

"DON'T CALL ME DIRTY PERCY!" Percy snapped.

Just then, there was a deep, booming whistle, and into the station steamed a saddle tank. He was big and painted dark blue, with red lining on his tanks on the sides and front. He had one dome, a large, spacious cab, an unusually squat chimney, and a very large bunker. His nameplates read Wilbert, and he was pulling two MK1 coaches. "Hello!" he called, as he came to a stop. He glanced over. "Ah!" he said. "I see you've met with porridge, Percy. The thing is, according to my driver, you're supposed to eat porridge, not swim in it!"

"It's hardly my fault!" Percy said. "Those two knocked the bags onto the line!"

Wilbert glanced over. "Pickle, Barley, how did you two get here?" he asked, confused. "The last time I saw you two, you were at Parkend!"

"We're staying with our aunt on Sodor for the summer," Pickle explained. "Our real names are Paul and Belinda, but we prefer our nicknames. Who calls a girl Belinda in this day and age?"

"Our mom is one of them," Barley replied.

"Well, try to stay out of trouble," replied Wilbert.

Just then, the carriage window opened, and a man with blue skin and white hair stuck his head out. "Are we nearly there?" he asked.

"Carriage and loco works is at Knapford, next stop down the line," Percy explained.

"Thank you!" the man looked to Wilbert. "Full steam ahead!"

"I can't go yet!" Wilbert replied. "Signal's not clear!"

Cab over Wheels

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That evening, Wilbert had parked his coaches in a siding, and was now in the shed alongside Thomas and Percy. "You two," he said, "are lucky to have a branch line as long as yours."

The man with the white hair looked offended. "Our line isn't that short!" he said. "We've never professed to being anything other than a short branch line." This fellow, in addition to his blue skin, white hair, and yellow eyes, wore a blue suit and top hat, complete with black shoes and a blue top hat.

"It's enough of a challenge to drive as it is, but in a good way," added another voice. A woman had just finished doing some maintenance on Wilbert, and walked round the front. She had yellow ski, blue eyes, and red hair, and wore a blue shirt with dark blue overalls, combined with brown boots and a green hairband in her hair.

"Ah!" the man said. "I'm Sam Seldon, but you can call me Sunny Skies. I'm the general manager at the Dean Forest, and this here is my chief engineer, Torque Wrench!"

"Tara Weldon," the woman replied. "I've worked the Dean Forest for years. It's a tough old route, with steep gradients and quite a few sudden changes in speed. You also need to keep a close eye on the greenery, especially around Whitecroft where the trees get very close to the line."

"I'll be sure to ask Kerfuffle to look at it when we get back," Sunny smiled. Seeing the confusion on the engine's faces, he explained. "Kerfuffle is the head of our track maintenance department."

This prompted another person to introduce themselves, another woman, this time with light blue skin and wild pink hair, into which a strange pendant was placed. She wore a blue shirt with a yellow fuzz jacket atop that, and whilst one of her legs was a natural leg, the other was half metal. "Hi!" she said. "I'm Kate, or Kerfuffle if you prefer."

Thomas decided not to ask about her prosphetic limb, thinking it innapropriate to ask such questions.

"Sunny, I've got us all a place to stay whilst we're here!" called another voice. One more person walked over, carefully navigating the working areas. She was a woman with purple skin and very elaborately done up dark purple hair. Her blue eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the shed, and she wore dark purple heels, as well as a purple short sleeved dress with a ruffled top part and a wide, ankle length skirt. "There's a nice bed and breakfast just down the road from here, and they do breakfast as well!"

"That does sound good!" Sunny Skies smiled, as he glanced over. "This is Petunia Petals, company historian and archivist." Percy could've sworn he saw both of them blush when they looked at each other, but chose to say nothing.

"Now then," said Thomas, "I hear one of your jobs is to shunt trucks at the mine near Ffarquhar. There's a sign there that says 'Danger! Engines must not pass this Board', or 'this Point', depending on what day of the week it is. You must obey this sign, as I didn't one time and fell down a mineshaft!"

Wilbert noted this. "I was built to work in a colliery," he pointed out. "I know all about places that are out of bounds to engines. One engine I know didn't, however."

"Please do tell us!" Percy said.

Torque Wrench stepped forward. "Perhaps it's best that I tell the story," she said. "This happened a long time ago, in a place I used to work before coming to the Dean Forest. It was a wet and rainy day..."


Bickershaw Colliery, Lancashire


Warrior was a most conceited engine. He was an austerity, fairly typical fair for a colliery railway, and was painted in the colliery's house livery of red with yellow lining, as well as black and yellow hazard stripes on his front and rear bufferbeams. One of his many jobs at the colliery was moving the waste materials, called slag, to the waste tip, where it would get dumped into huge piles resembling mountains. Engines always had to stop in specific locations to ensure the slag heap would get filled properly.

"Why must we always stop in the same place?" he asked Torque Wrench, as she got him ready to collect another load of waste.

"Because it's for safety reasons," Torque Wrench replied. "The board is there to prevent an engine or train running away. If we pass the board, who knows where we'll end up?"

Warrior said nothing, but the wet weather and slippery rails had given him an idea. During the first shipment of waste to the slag tip, it happened. Warrior was reversing down the grade to the stopping point, but he had made a fatal error. He only had brakes that worked on the engine, not the trucks, and the wet rails made it very difficult for the brakes to grip properly. The trucks slammed into each other, knocking Warrior backwards and onto a steep downhill grade, causing him to slide past the board and stop several feet beyond it.

"Fantastic," Torque Wrench said. "We've stopped past the board." She let the brakes off, started the sanding gear, and tried to move the trucks forward, but Warrior's wheels slipped furiously on the wet rails, and the heavy trucks held them in place.

"What are you two doing there?" shouted a foreman.

"These trucks shoved us here!" Warrior protested.

Torque Wrench had her suspicions, but chose not to voice them. "I misjudged the stopping distance and we skidded past the board."

"Get to level ground! That embankment's not designed to take an engine's weight!"

"What do you think I'm doing?"

But it was too late. A rush of stones poured away from the embankment, and the rails began to dip. "That doesn't look good," Warrior said.

Torque Wrench tried one last time to get him moving, but it was too late. She jumped for safety as the embankment collapsed completely, and Warrior fell sideways into the slag heap, landing with a crash and lying on his side. "Ouch."

"We can't get a crane to him yet, but we need to stabilise the earthworks, or else the tip will collapse," Torque Wrench pointed out. "We don't want another Aberfan, after all."


Knapford Sheds, Present Day


Thomas and Percy were silent. "What happened?" Thomas ventured.

Wilbert smiled. "Warrior was eventually recovered, but they didn't fix him, and dumped him at the back of the shed."

"Is he still there?" Percy asked.

"Nope," Torque Wrench replied. "Bickershaw Colliery closed in the 1990s, and he was bought by the Dean Forest Railway and restored to working order. Safe to say, he has learned his lesson."

Foaming at the Funnel

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A short way down Thomas' branch line, there is a junction. One line takes trains off to the harbour, and the other leads to Knapford Junction. Near this junction is a dairy. Every morning, specially converted, refridgerated tankers are positioned next to pipes, where they are vacuum unloaded of their supply of cream. Then, they are loaded with milk, and taken away for distribution. Percy is normally the engine who moves the loaded tankers up the line on his first train.

One morning, Wilbert had been assigned this duty, and Thomas was explaining to him in painstaking detail how it all worked. "Keep an eye out for the hosepipe!" he said. "This device allows for the milk to be pumped into the tankers without it going everywhere and making a sticky mess. Make sure to position the tankers correctly to avoid this. Got it?"

"I think so," said Wilbert, who was sure to listen carefully to everything he was told.

"Are there any other details we should know?" Torque Wrench asked, as she opened Wilbert's cylinder cocks.

"Not that I can think of," Twilight replied. "You two will mostly be on goods traffic, but I imagine you two won't have a problem with that."

And they didn't. Wilbert was assigned to many of Percy's trains, and could handle them with no difficulty, being a much larger and more powerful steam engine than Percy. The trucks were fully aware of this, and were careful to not mess about. The duo had an excellent day, moving trucks about and carefully pulling passengers on occassion when Thomas was indisposed or busy, and Daisy had duties elsewhere.

One day, Wilbert took loaded stone to the harbour. He had set off without his tanks being completely refilled, as the standpipe at the shed was damaged. "I hope I can make it with this much water!" he said.

"We've got 600 gallons!" Torque Wrench replied. "I think we'll be fine."

Once they had dropped off the stone, they remarshalled the train so that the tankers were now out front. They took these up to the junction and pushed them into the dairy siding so they could be emptied of cream. Once that was done, Wilbert collected some vans from the siding, and pushed them onto the mainline. Then he connected to another brake van, and took them up the line with him to Knapford Junction. "If we leave the vans here," he said, "we can collect the tankers when we get to the junction again. Then, we collect the empty stone trucks, drop the tankers as we go up the line, and then leave the empties at the quarry. Easy as pie!"

At the junction, James steamed in. "Hello Wilbert!" he said. "You look splendid!"

"Thank you," Wilbert replied. "And you?"

"I," said James, "have been showing Mister Sunny Skies around the Island. He and that Petunia lady think our island is very beautiful."

Sunny Skies put his head out of the carriage window. "How are you getting on, Wilbert?" he asked.

"Right as rain, sir!" Wilbert replied. "The work here sure is good, and its nice to stretch one's wheels." Torque Wrench hopped out to operate the water tower.

She turned the key.

Nothing happened.

"What?"

Just then, Kerfuffle walked up the platform with the Barrel Twins in tow. "Sorry about that!" she called. "I was out with the track maintenance team earlier. The water supply in the town is cut off as some idiots put something noxious in the water."

Torque Wrench instantly understood what that meant. "Oh, yippee," she said, sarcastically. "No chance to fill up, and we're running low."

Wilbert did look concerned. "Do you think we can do the run on 400 gallons, or should we fill up with a bucket by the river?"

"There's got to be another place where we can fill Wilbert's tanks!" Pickle said.

"Tank," Barley corrected. "Wilbert is a saddle tank. He only has one."

"Alright, Miss Perdantic," Pickle snorted. "The sentiment is the same nontheless."

"Can we come with you?" Kerfuffle asked the guard. "These two need dropping off at Ellsbridge, and there's some trackwork that needs looking at north of Toryreck."

"By all means," said the guard, and they scrambled onboard the guard's van. They made good time to the junction to the harbour, and Wilbert moved onto the siding, ready for the pickup.

Pickle pointed to the siding. "There's a standpipe there," he said. "You could fill Wilbert's boiler from that."

Kerfuffle smiled. "Good thinking, Pickle! Torque, you can use the pipe there to refill the boiler!"

"Got it!" Torque called, and stopped Wilbert just short of the tankers. She grabbed the hosepipe, popped Wilbert's water tank hatch open, and dropped in the pipe before turning the valve.

Barley walked up the train to watch the refuelling procedure, as she was naturally interested in what was going on. "That's funny," she said. "That water is a weird colour."

She clambered into the sideboard, and peered in. "Torque! You have to turn the tap off!" she shouted.

"Why?" Torque Wrench asked.

"You're not filling Wilbert's tanks with water! You're filling it with milk!"

"Horseapples!" Torque Wrench cursed, and ran back up the train after switching the tap off. "Drop the fire! DROP THE FIRE!"

Luckily, Pickle was one step ahead of her, and threw Wilbert's fire out onto the lineside. "He'd have been foaming at the funnel if any of that got into the boiler!" he said.

"And whose idea was it to fill me up here?" Wilbert countered. Thomas eventually came down the line to drag Wilbert back to the shed so his tank could be pumped out. It took them ages to clean up the mess, but by the next morning Wilbert's boiler had been successfully drained, and he was ready to return to service.

Thomas, and thankfully everybody else, was able to see the funny side of the situation. "You and Percy make a fine pair," he joked. "He got the porridge, and you the milk!"

Just then, they overheard some talk outside the shed. It was the voices of Sunny Skies and Petunia Petals. "You know," said Barley, "I think there's something going on between those two..."


"Well," said Sunny, looking up at the night sky, "We don't get night skies like this back home!"

"Nope!" Petunia replied, neither aware the other was blushing. "All that light pollution gets in the way. Out here, we've got all the space and lack of light to see the stars."

Sunny could now sense that his moment to reveal his feelings had come. "Petunia," he said, "Before we go, there's something I wanted to tell you."

"We won't be goin' for a few days, silly!" Petunia replied. "In fact, if that's the case, we've got one last stop at Knapford Junction before we truly set off home."

"I'll do it then, then," Sunny resolved, and all was set.

Wired Up

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The very next morning, Sir Toppham Hatt came to visit Wilbert. "Hello Wilbert!" said Sir Toppham Hatt. "I hope you're feeling better after drinking all that milk!"

"Well, sir, Pickle and Barley did compresensively scrub my tanks out, so I feel OK now," Wilbert replied.

"You've done a superb job these last few days," Sir Toppham Hatt smiled. "But the workload here has decreased, and only the usual complement of engines are required now. I want you to help out on the Little Western, alongside Duck, Oliver, and Stepney. I imagine you'll find them most friendly and helpful."

"OK sir," Wilbert replied. Truth be told, he was sad to leave the Ffarquhar Branch, and so were the others, but orders were orders, and they must be followed. So, he set off for Arlesburgh West, with his coaches clattering behind him. "I wonder what we'll find when we get there?" he asked.

"Beats me," Torque Wrench replied, as they rattled along the main line. "I imagine it'll be more of the same. Pull trucks, shunt trucks, drink milk from a stand pipe-"

"Alright, alright, don't pile it on," Wilbert replied.

Soon, the flat fields gave way to spectacular cliffs and towering sea walls, and tunnels carved straight into the rockface and through hills. This new line was absolutely spectacular, and Wilbert liked it. "This reminds me of a line I ran on whilst in service with the War Department!" he said, as he rattled along. "It was somewhere in the south west, and one of the places was named after a religious figure."

"Are you talking about Newton Abbot?" asked a voice, as Wilbert pulled into Arlesburgh West. "Because I used to be based there."

Wilbert smiled. "It's good to see you again, Montague," he said. "Of course, I didn't have a nameplate back then, but they called me G B Keeling eventually! It's Wilbert now."

Apple Bloom looked out of Duck's cab in confusion. "Are ya related to the Apples?" she asked Torque Wrench.

"Not that I know of," Torque Wrench replied. "Why?"

"Because we look very similar, that's all."

"People can look similar and be unrelated," Wilbert said. "It's partly why I had such difficulty telling the drivers apart at the colliery where I worked. They all looked so similar with those boilersuits and flat caps!"

Naturally, Wilbert wanted to get to work, but they had to wait for a ballast shipment to come down from Arlesdale End first. The wagons were shunted onto the loading stage, and Wilbert pushed the mainline ballast wagons under the hopper to be loaded. The wagons were then filled.

"Impressive, isn't it!" said Mike, with a grin. "We're proud of our useful railway."

"I can see," Wilbert smiled. "This is an incredibly impressive operation. Do you know an engine called River Mite?"

"Can't say I do," Mike replied. "What about you, Twist?"

"Doethn't ring a bell," Twist replied. "In fact, there are no riverth called Mite around here!"

The trucks, mercifully, stayed in order. Donald and Douglas made sure to keep them in order, and Wilbert was soon to remind them he would tolerate no nonsense. But then something happened that would cement Wilbert's place in the history books.

Wilbert had just moved some empties under the hopper to be loaded, and looked over to see Rex puffing away with a passenger train. Once another wagon was loaded, he began to pull back to allow the next one to be loaded. He pulled hard, as the trucks were heavy, but suddenly there was a loud crash!

"What the?" Wilbert cried, as he shot backwards. He flew through the yard, but Torque Wrench was able to stop him safely. She secured his brakes, and walked back along the line to where the trucks were.

"Well, that's torn it," she said, holding up a snapped coupling and some other parts. "The bolts holding the coupling gear onto the truck body have given way, and the entire coupling housing has torn loose, making it impossible to hold the train together. Brilliant."

"How are we supposed to move the trucks now?" Wilbert asked. "Oh, this is a disaster!"

Just then, the Barley Twins appeared, as they always seemed to when things went wrong. "I have an idea!" said Pickle. "I once read in a magazine about a train where the couplers snapped, and the train was held together using some lengths of old wire."

Barley elbowed him. "This is not the time for stupid suggestions!"

Wilbert looked over. "No. I think Pickle's onto something. I'm not convinced we could move an entire train moving wire, but could we try with one truck?"

Torque Wrench suddenly noticed a coil of signal wire sitting nearby. "Perfect!" she said. "We'll use that!" She picked up the wire, and connected it to the truck, winding it round the bufferbeams and tightening it into a rope. She looped the other end through Wilbert's coupling hook, and then ran around the other end and uncoupled the truck from the rest of the train, before hopping back into the cab of Wilbert. "Right, away we go!" she said.

Wilbert slowly puffed backwards, shifting the damaged truck backwards as well. The wire tightened, stretched- and held. Wilbert dumped it on another siding, and then went back to shunting the other ballast trucks.

The rest of Wilbert's stay passed without incident. When the time came for him to leave, Sir Toppham Hatt came to speak to him. "Well done, all of you," he said. "Sunny Skies, I wish to thank you for your help with managing the railway. Your eye for operations has given me new insight into how to run my railway. Miss-"

"Phoebe Pentrich," Petunia replied. "I prefer Petunia Petals, though." She pushed her glasses back up her face.

"You have been of great help to the archives. Torque Wrench and Wilbert, you kept my railway moving during its hour of darkest need, and for that I am forever greatful. Kerfuffle, the track maintenance team thank you for your help, and finally, Pickle and Barley. As much as you two have caused some trouble, you have equally gotten my engines out of it, and your heroics are appreciated."

Sunny Skies had his own thing to do. He handed his top hat to Torque Wrench, and then produced a box, dropped to one knee, and opened said box. "Petunia, you are the sunshine in my life. Will you marry me?"

There was a short pause. Then came a reply that nobody would ever forget. "Of course, ya silly goose!"

The station erupted with cheers and whistles, and Wilbert set off on his way. "Thank you!" he called. "I've had a wonderful time here, and I will miss you all!" And with that, he vanished into the tunnel, smoke rising into the air until he was out of sight.

If you enjoyed these stories, you will probably enjoy a visit to the Dean Forest Railway at Lydney, in Gloucestershire.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMWRn_vQff4

Interlude 4

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hBonN7UeoAc

Welcome back for another collection of adventures! We have a few different and exciting ones for you, in all sizes, scales, ages, and gauges. We venture to the Dean Forest to find out how Wilbert and his friends are getting on, watch as the small engines save the day, Green Arrow make a return, and the Arlesdale Railway becomes a new and exciting place on the island.

Wedding in the Dean Forest

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One morning, Wilbert and Warrior were being readied for service at Norchard depot. The summer season had begun, and the two engines were being used on the two train timetable today. As they waited for their drivers, Pickle suddenly arrived with some news.

"It seems as though Sunny Skies won't be around to monitor the line today!" he said.

"I wonder why?" Warrior asked.

Wilbert laughed. "Don't you remember, Warrior? He's getting married today!"

"Oh, of course!" Warrior smiled. "I'd forgotten, and I'm not quite sure why. Clearly, it wasn't on my Radar for some reason."

"Though he'll need to get a move on to get there in time!" Pickle added. "It's in Parkend, and he lives in Lydney!"

"What's in Parkend?" Warrior asked.

Wilbert rolled his eyes. "You're doing this deliberately, aren't you? The wedding!"

Meanwhile, at his home in Lydney, Sunny Skies readied himself, collecting together the things he needed to take with him to Parkend. Here he was, in the last few hours of his life as a single man. He picked up his top hat and popped it on his head, and made sure his bow tie was straight.

"Good morning, sir," said a fellow railwayman, who was standing outside and there to greet him.

"Hello, Charlie!" Sunny smiled. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

Charlie nodded. "Nervous, sir?"

"Yeah."

"First time? I know I was when I got married."

"No, I've been nervous lots of times." Sunny did ocassionally interpret statements literally, but soon brushed it off. "I'll need to get a move on if I'll be to Parkend in time?"

"Will you travel by train, sir?" Charlie asked.

"No, no. I'll drive there instead. The roads ought to be clear at this time of day."



Sunny hopped into his car, an old Rolls Royce that had belonged to his father, and set off into the Forest of Dean. As he drove along, he soon realised that taking the road might not have been the best of ideas. Up ahead was a giant pothole, so he moved over to avoid it. Unfortunately, a car raced round a tight bend and sped at him.

"What does that idiot think he's doing?" Sunny asked, and braked hard. The car skidded along and fell straight into the pothole with a bang. The other car, however, drove on as if nothing had happened.

Sunny got out and looked at the problem. "Oh dear. The tire's punctured, and there's not enough time to change the tire over! Not to mention I'll look a mess if I do."

Just then, a local woman drove up in her car. It was Mrs Hoofington, a local aristocrat. "Good morning, Sunny," she said. "I see your car has had a bit of a prang."

"That's one way of putting it," Sunny replied. "I'm getting married today, and I need to get to the wedding. You wouldn't mind giving me a lift to Parkend?"

"No problem!" said Mrs Hoofington. "Hop in the passenger seat, and I shall whisk you there!"

Sunny took a seat in her car, and they set off towards Parkend. "So, where's Mr Hoofington?"

"He's at a convention of pie shop salesmen," Mrs Hoofington replied. "As you know, he manages a chain of pie shops in Gloucestershire, and he's conversing with them as to securing new business contracts."

Suddenly, there was a bang and a pop, and the car juddered to a stop in the middle of the street. "Bother!" said Mrs Hoofington. "The engine has overheated!"

Sunny looked worried. "I'll get a breakdown crew for you," he said. "I'll need one to recover my car as well."

Suddenly, there was a loud whistle, and a traction engine rattled to a stop in the street. On the footplate was an older man with red skin and white hair, dressed in a dodgy suit and a flat cap. "Told you those cars are unreliable!" the man said. "Want a proper ride, go with steam!"

"You're not exactly helping, Moody Root!" Mrs Hoofington replied.

"Hey, Sunny, if you need a lift I can give it," Moody Root said.

"Oh! Thanks, that's exceedingly generous," Sunny replied, and he changed transport yet again. The traction engine set off down the road, but something was clearly wrong, as Sunny was suddenly sprayed with engine oil. "Yuck!"

The worst was yet to come. The traction engine began to veer violently all over the road. "Something's snapped!" Moody Root shouted. "Hold on!"

But it was too late. The traction engine crashed through a fence and straight into a muddy pond, into which Sunny fell. "Well, this has been an interesting journey."

Just then, there was a loud whistle, and Wilbert came to a stop with the first train of the day to Parkend. "Hello sir!" he called. "Can we help?"

"Can you get me to Parkend, please?" Sunny asked. "I need to be there pretty urgently."

"Can you assist with firing?" Torque Wrench asked. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but Wilbert's automatic stoker has been playing up."

"Of course," Sunny replied, not caring a jot about his appearance. All that concerned him now was getting to Parkend and being with his beloved. Wilbert rocketed down the line with two crew on his footplate, and the passengers all started leaning out of the window to see what was going on.

"We'll have you there in time, sir!" Wilbert said. "Not far to Parkend now!" The train stormed through Whitecroft, with crowds turned out to cheer Wilbert on his way. Smoke and coal dust flew through the air, but they kept going.

At the end of the line, a battered but happy Sunny Skies staggered off the footplate. "Well, I made it," he said. "And on time too. Let's hope the bride's late."

He dashed for the station exit and headed for the church, where Kerfuffle was already waiting for him. "Hello sir!" she said. "I didn't realise it was fancy dress!"

"Erm, yes," Sunny replied. "I suppose I am not entirely presentable."

Kerfuffle laughed. "Good thing I made a spare set for you. Come on, there's plenty of time to change. Petunia's been held up in traffic, so we may be slightly late starting the service."

As it was, they began 45 seconds late, but otherwise the service went swimmingly. Rather fittingly, given their livelihoods, Sunny Skies and Petunia Petals spent their first day as husband and wife in the Forest of Dean, and at the railway line that they loved so dear. And everybody who called themselves one of the Dean Forest Railway couldn't have been more proud that happy day.

Green Arrow's Mighty Muddle

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The summer season hadn't let up in any way, and the railway was as busy as ever. Engines were working relentlessly to get passengers and freight moved across the island, and they all enjoyed it, even if they were exhausted by the end of their days. Then the next day they ended up doing it all again. Practically every engine was rushed off their wheels at the amount of work they had to do.

One morning, Sir Toppham Hatt was looking across the platforms at Knapford to check all was in order, when suddenly an unfamiliar whistle echoed through the air. "What was that?" he asked.

As he looked to the west end of the station, Green Arrow steamed in under the station canopy with a railtour from the mainland. "Good morning!" he called. "It was nice to be able to do the last bit under my own power. Being towed by a diesel is such a drag!"

"He was dragging us, you mean!" Lightning Dust joked. Both engine and driver laughed at the joke, which Sir Toppham Hatt admitted was not especially funny.

"You wouldn't mind moving your coaches elsewhere once the passengers have gotten off?" Sir Toppham Hatt asked. "They're currently blocking the platform. When do you go?"

"But I only just got here!" Green Arrow replied. "This evening. How does today find you?"

"It finds me with much too much too much too much to do, Green Arrow," Sir Toppham Hatt replied, and he walked off into his office.

"Your hat is conspicous by its absence, sir," Green Arrow noted.

Just then, Edward arrived with a passenger train. "Hello!" he said. "Are you the engine visiting from the mainland for the day?"

"Indeed," Green Arrow replied. "I was here for the technology fair, remember?"

"Of course!" Edward smiled. "How was your run?"

"Good, thanks," Green Arrow said. "In fact-"

"You can chit chat when you've moved those coaches!" Sir Toppham Hatt snapped. "We have a passenger train due in on that platform in five minutes!" As he walked over, he crashed into a luggage trolley. Cases fell off and onto the platform.

"Do you need some help?" Lightning Dust offered.

"No thank you!" Sir Toppham Hatt replied. "Everything's under control!"

Edward sighed. "I'm not convinced."

"And Eddie an Ah need ta be back off ta Brendam soon," Applejack added. "See ya around, erm..."

"Green Arrow."

Green Arrow then had an idea. If he helped out, Sir Toppham Hatt's workload would be greatly reduced, and he could relax a bit. Not only that, the railway would run more efficiently. With a smile, he set off for Tidmouth sheds to be turned and refuelled.

He found Thomas at the coaling plant, having his bunker refilled. "Hello!" he called. "I haven't seen you two since we pulled the train to Scarborough!"

"Likewise," Green Arrow replied. "So, how do things find you, Thomas?"

"Awkward," Thomas replied. "We have some goods to take to Peel Godred, where they'll be transferred to the electric railway and Prometheus will take them onwards."

Green Arrow liked the sound of that. "How long is the train?" he asked.

Twilight stuck her head out of Thomas' cab as they finished refilling his bunker. "It's the one in that siding there," she said, indicating to a train of vans and flatbeds festooned with cables, wire, and metal beams.

Lightning Dust then had an idea of her own. "We can take that for you, Thomas," she offered. "It'll be a load off your wheels, and that means you can work a passenger train or something like that."

"That's very generous," Thomas said. "Thank you! Are you sure you can do it?"

"Indeed I can," Green Arrow replied. "I'm a V2. I was built for mixed freight and passenger duties."

Green Arrow was soon replenished with coal and water, and once coupled to the goods train set off for Crovan's Gate. He rolled along at speed, smiling as the wind whistled through the trees and rattled through his motion and funnel. "I haven't had a run like this in years!" he said. "Fast goods; now there's the way to go."

"There's Percy!" said Lightning Dust, as Percy rolled about the yard with some stock. He whistled loudly as they passed. "Isn't he friendly?"

What they didn't realise was that Percy wasn't being friendly. He was trying to warn them, but they couldn't hear what he was saying.

Later, Green Arrow arrived at the transfer yards and dropped off his train, reversing to a holding siding to let the electric couple up to his train. As he basked happily in the sunlight, there was a voice. "Excuse me, but you're rather bigger than the engine I was expecting. I was expecting a tank engine, but I guess you'll have to do for shunting these yards."

"Pardon?" Green Arrow said. "There was nothing in the manifest about shunting."

"Neither should you be here, Green Arrow," said a stern voice. It was the voice of Sir Toppham Hatt. "I had just finished my conversation with Mr Percival when I got a telephone call from the yard at Marron. Apparently, you flew straight by without dropping off the vans he needed to assemble another train going back west. Not only that, Thomas is now in the wrong place on the island. He should be here, not at Knapford! Finally, what are you doing with his train?"

Green Arrow sighed. "I offered to take Thomas' train for him, as it looked too long and heavy for him. However, I didn't know about needing to drop those vans off, or about shunting the trucks afterwards. I was only trying to help, but I simply made things worse." He looked at the rails. "I'll accept whatever punishment you give me."

Sir Toppham Hatt looked surprised. "Whatever for?" he asked. "It's rare that engines offer to do another's work for them, and you simply had the best of intentions. But even the best of intentions can bring about unforseen consequences, and as such we need to put this mess right."

And they did. Green Arrow went and took the vans back to Percy, then proceeded light engine back to Tidmouth carriage sidings to collect the coaches for his return trip. The other engines came to see him off, and he whistled cheerfully as he set off down the line. "See you all soon!" he called. His next journey would take him to the heart of England, although somebody he wasn't expecting to see would be there also...

Common Ground

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Gordon was on tour. As the prototype to the LNER Pacifics, he had been offered a place at an upcoming steam gala at the Great Central Railway, which is in Leicestershire. It was hardly an offer that could be turned down. After all, it was one of the most prestigious preserved railways in Britain, and many of Gordon's old friends and relations would be attending too, such as Green Arrow. There was also one engine there he hadn't heard of, whose name was the same as that of an aircraft, but that answer would be found later.

It was early in the morning on the first day of the gala, and all the engines were being readied for duty. Oil cans were passed around, and lubricators were checked. Tenders were filled and topped off, and coal was dropped into tenders by a dump truck (the shed facilities at Loughborough lacked a coaling tower). As the engines were primed for work, Gordon looked over to a familiar red tank engine, who was simmering nicely, steam blowing from his safety valve. "Good morning!" he said. "I say, you're steaming very well."

"Well, my owner takes good care of me," Arthur replied. "I've travelled a long way to be here today. Normally I live at Keighley, in Yorkshire, but I'm here today as a visitor."

"So am I!" Gordon replied. "I remember you from Worlds of Tomorrow. Who was your driver again?"

Just then, Clear Sky walked around the front of both engines. "Nice to see you again, Gordon," she smiled. "Everything's looking good to go here! I love an engine shed on a gala morning. All the engines being lit up for service, and the smell of anthracite in the air never ceases to thrill."

Just then, a Jinty whistled, and moved off into the yard to collect some coaches. "That'll be working the suburban," Clear Sky explained. "It's the second departure of the day, and only runs once. The first train goes out before that."

"Who's working it?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"Check your timetable and find out!" Arthur laughed. "It's in there, mate."

Rainbow Dash unfolded a piece of paper, apparently unfamiliar with the process of unfolding paper, and took a close look at the diagram. Gordon (indicated in the timetable as '4') was paired up with an engine with a five digit number that she didn't recognise. It was a BR Standard, alright, but not one she recognised. Still, it was time to go, and Gordon moved off into the yard, blowing steam and smoke into the air, much to the delight of the assembled enthusiasts that were at the lineside, holding cameras and strange pole things with furry objects on the end. Gordon rolled forward magnificently, and proceeded through the goods loop, stopping at the end of the shunt marker. Once the signal dropped, he reversed onto the train, a set of seven MK1 coaches, and rolled into them gently. Rainbow Dash was about to hop out to run the couplings together when she saw a member of station staff doing it for her.

"Thanks!" she called to him.

"No problem!" he replied. "We've got some tight timings today, so we've all got to be on the ball!"

Just then, the next engine backed down onto Gordon, and rolled to a stop with a bang.

"I can't see!" Gordon protested.

"But I can," said a familiar voice.

Gordon blinked. "Barry?" he asked.

"The very same," Barry replied. "Now then, can we back up a bit? I need to be able to see the home signal properly, and I can't from here."

Gordon blasted his whistle. "Poop poop! Mind the platform! We're backing up!"

Once this procedure was complete, Quibble Pants hopped off Barry's footplate, and went over to couple him up. "So, how are things?" he asked Rainbow Dash.

"They're good," Rainbow Dash replied. "I've kept working, and Gordon's doing a good job too."

Just then, Arthur rolled to a stop on the goods line with a rake of vans. "Hello!" he said. "I must say, a BR Standard 2 and a Pacific is overkill for a train of that length, eh?"

Clear Sky hopped off Arthur's footplate, having secured him and his train in place, and joined Quibble on the platform. "Morning, dear," she said, gently kissing him on the cheek."

"It's wonderful to see you too," Quibble replied. "Rainbow Dash, meet Clear Sky. I imagine you met her at the Worlds of Tomorrow event?"

Something Wind Rider had said suddenly flashed through Rainbow Dash's memory.

"I'm still on friendly terms with her, and I'm glad she's found somebody else."

"So you're the somebody else Wind Rider was referring to!" she said.

"Indeed," Quibble replied. "That just leaves Wind Spri- wait, where is she?"

Just then, Green Arrow rumbled onto the stabling line with a set of coal trucks. "Such noisy things, windcutters," he said. "Why can't they come quietly? Not only that, the turntable's blocked up with rubbish. How am I supposed to run safely if I can't see where I'm going?"

"I look for you," Lightning Dust replied.

Just then, Quibble found who he was looking for. He brought forward a girl with odd purple skin, and dark blue and pink streaked hair. Her eyes were mango coloured, and she was dressed in a purple shirt and blue pants, combined with red shoes.

"Oh, there you are! Rainbow Dash, this is Wind Sprint. She's Clear's daughter."

"Hello!" Rainbow Dash said, trying to be friendly.

"Hi," Wind Sprint replied. Her voice was empty and devoid of emotion, and her face was locked in a permanent scowl.

Rainbow Dash was rather taken aback, but tried again. "You may want to change your facial expression, in case the wind changes and your mouth gets stuck that way!" she joked.

"Wind changing direction doesn't cause facial muscles to lock up," Wind Sprint replied, in the same, flat tone.

Clear, on the other hand, looked annoyed."Wind, Quibble has gone to great lengths to organise this, and you should start showing some appreciation."

When Clear was gone, Wind mouthed words to the effect of 'get stuffed'. But Quibble had news. "Wind Sprint, I was able to get you a footplate ride on the first train out! How does that sound?"

"Wow."

Gordon rolled his eyes. "I have no idea if she's being sarcastic or just struggles to express emotion," he said.


Barry had been expecting trouble when Quibble had come up with this idea of letting Wind Sprint ride on his footplate. But, truth be told, he was amazed at how quiet she was. She mostly stood at the back of the footplate, not moving or commenting on anything that was happening.

"Want to sit in the fireman's seat?" Quibble offered.

No response.

"I'll take that as a no." He looked out of the cab window and saw the signal drop. "Right away!"

Barry blasted his whistle, and Gordon whistled in return. "Here we go!" With a rush of smoke and a blast of steam, both engines stormed away up the line on the first train of the day towards Quorn and Woodhouse. The run went smoothly, with both engines running well as far as the station. The passengers got on and off, with more joining than leaving, and they soon set off once more. When they reached Rothley, Barry dropped off the train into the locomotive siding, leaving Gordon to take the train to Leicester North. Stabling Barry in position, Quibble hopped off the footplate, Wind being slow to follow.

"Excuse me?" said a member of staff. "You can't have family up there. Could you please tell your daughter not to be on the footplate?"

This, somehow, set Wind Sprint off. "He's not my father!" she exclaimed. "And I don't want him to pretend to be!" She dashed for the station platform before anybody could stop her, with Quibble making his way after her.

The staff member sighed. "Why are kids so badly behaved these days?" he said.

Wind Sprint sat on a bench on the platform and looked at the floor. Seeing Lightning Dust here earlier, at the controls of Green Arrow, had brought back memories of the old days, a time that had been torn away from her. She glanced up, hearing another set of puffing noises, only to see Arthur roll in with the vans. She glanced at the timetable. It appeared that Arthur was to drop the vans off up ahead, then Barry was to draw them back into the platform and take them back to Loughborough after a short break. Barry was attached to the vans, and then drew them back into the Down platform, but he had a few minutes until he was due to go.

Arthur was parked up in the yard, and Clear Sky went to get a cup of tea. She saw Wind Sprint sitting there, and decided it was time to ask what was going on. "What's going on?" she asked, trying a different tone. She knew that a lot of parents would simply resort to screaming at their children at this point, but that wasn't a productive approach. She sat down next to her. "I can see you are upset about something, but I can't help you if you don't tell me."

Wind Sprint sniffed, and looked up. "I know you want to be happy yourself, but I miss dad. Some days, it feels as though you're just trying to replace him, and seeing Lightning Dust earlier reminded me of the old days. Why did you have to split up? It seems like a really selfish thing to do, not just to me, but to Lightning."

Clear Sky had suspected this, and she sighed. "Why didn't you just tell me this?" she said, gently placing her hand on Wind's shoulder. "I'm not trying to replace Wind Rider. He will always be your father, no matter what. You can see him whenever you wish when you reach adulthood, and Lightning Dust will always be your big sister. But I'm certain that Quibble-"

"Certain he'll be the one?" Wind interrupted. "You said that about the last boyfriend, and the five before him. I know he said he thought I'd like it here, but I don't, and I don't like him. He's trying to replace dad."

"Oh, sweetheart," Clear sighed, realising how it all fitted together. "I know Quibble's trying too hard, but he doesn't want you to stop loving your dad. He just wants you to like him. And I think maybe there's enough room in your heart to do both."

Just then, Quibble came over, hearing the entire conversation. "I never wanted to replace Wind Rider. He's a fine guy, but I feel the need to point this out. People who come together and live together won't always share the same interests, and that's fine. For example, I'm an engine driver. I've been a railway enthusiast my entire life. I'm not really a sports person, in comparison, whereas you are. But I think we share enough in common to work together. Speaking of which, there's still a spot on the footplate if you want a ride back to Loughborough."

Just then, Green Arrow rattled past with a passenger train, and rolled to a stop in the Up platform. "All clear, Barry!" he called. "Right away!"

Lightning Dust looked out of the cab. "Say, aren't Barry and Green Arrow double heading later in the day?" she asked.

"Indeed we are," Quibble smiled. "And I'd be more than happy to lead you on the way."

Family relations are rarely as clean cut and structured as most of us would like to think. In fact, they are often very messy, and people inevitably do fight. But when they do, it is important to find the ground that brings us together as one. And with their new found common bond, the trio would go on to do something amazing.

But I shan't say any more, or I shall spoil the next story.

Stranger than Fiction

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Barry desperately tried to make sense of anything that was happening at that given moment. As he rolled along, with no rails, but along a main road, cars and lorries dodging out of the way of the steam engine rattling through the streets. Quite how he had ended up in this mess was a matter of some concern, and probably should be explained in some detail.

"Look out!" he shouted, as he veered back and forth. With no rails to guide his leading wheels, he veered backwards and forwards, randomly sliding from one side of the road to another. "Keep your distance!"

"Ha ha ha!" laughed a voice from his footplate. "They said they couldn't steal an engine! Yet I have done it!"

Barry closed his eyes, and suddenly found himself recalling earlier events...


Tyseley Locomotive Works, a few hours earlier...


Barry and Arthur sat gleaming in the sunlight at Tyseley Locomotive Works, with crowds of people walking around and looking at the many engines on display. There were big engines and small engines, long and short ones, steam, diesel, and a handful of electrics, and of course a small collection rolling up and down the demonstration line, the track groaning under their weight.

Out in front of their locos, their to answer questions, were Quibble and Clear Sky, both of whom were more than happy to address the concerns of attending visitors, even if this meant having to deal with silly comments or answering some bizarre questions.

"Look!" said one adult, pointing to Barry. "It's Gordon from Sodor!"

"Erm, what?" said Barry. "Last I checked I'm a BR Standard, not a Pacific."

"I'm afraid it's not," Quibble Pants quickly explained. "His name is Barry, and he's a BR Standard. He was built in the 1950s and famously got stuck going over Bleath Gill in a snowdrift! I should know, I was driving him."

"What's BR?" asked the man.

"British Railways?" Clear Sky queried rhetorically. "Operator of Britain's rail network from 1947 to 1997?"

"But the trains here say Chiltern, not Bwitish Wailways!" said the man's child.

"That's because Chiltern took over operations after BR ceased to exist," Quibble gently explained. "Would you like to go on the footplate?"

The child pouted. "Are there any porper trains?"

Barry looked very offended. "I am a proper engine!" he said.

The parent and child walked off, whilst Arthur sighed. "I think the public can be probematic sometimes," he sighed. "True, we do need them, but at the same time I feel like we aren't appreciated."

Moments later, Wind Sprint jogged over, being careful to stay in the marked walking lanes and not stray onto the track. "Mom, just thought you'd like to know they've started serving lunch for the exhibitors with tickets starting with 200," she said."

"Thank you!" Clear replied. "Well, off to lunch for me!" And away she walked, smiling, and with a spring in her step.

No sooner had she walked away, and Quibble was momentarily distracted by something, then there was a loud crash, and an a bang, and before anybody knew what was happening Barry was rolling away down the siding. "What's happening?" he called.

"You are now mine!" shouted a voice. "Doctor Caballeron always succeeds at his task, and taking unsecured engines is the easiest route of all!"

Barry gulped. He didn't like the sound of that.


Present day...


Barry desperately tried to make sense of anything that was happening at that given moment. As he rolled along, with no rails, but along a main road, cars and lorries dodging out of the way of the steam engine rattling through the streets. Quite how he had ended up in this mess was a matter of some concern, and probably should be explained in some detail.

"Look out!" he shouted, as he veered back and forth. With no rails to guide his leading wheels, he veered backwards and forwards, randomly sliding from one side of the road to another. "Keep your distance!"

"Ha ha ha!" laughed a voice from his footplate. "They said they couldn't steal an engine! Yet I have done it!"

Barry closed his eyes, fearing a direct collision with a lamp post. When suddenly-

"Barry! We're here!"

Barry looked to his left to suddenly see a van driving next to him. "Quibble!" he called. "You're here!" Suddenly, he felt himself veering to the left. "Get out of the way, or you'll be squished!"

Quibble accelerated past the engine, which crashed into a section of the pavement, and then formed up on the other side. "You ready, Wind?" he said. "Because I'll need to stop in order to get onto Barry's footplate. We'll only have a few seconds to board Barry's footplate, and that won't be easy."

"Let's do it," Wind Sprint confidently replied. Quibble hit the brakes and stopped, and then jumped out. He sprinted for the footplate ladder as police cars raced after the runaway engine. Moments later, he jumped onto the ladder with a bang, and began to pull himself up into the cab. The man at the controls looked over in disbelief. "Where did you come from?" he asked, surprised, and in a strange, nebulous accent.

"Portsmouth, originally." Quibble pushed him out of the way and applied the brakes, slamming the regulator shut as Barry skidded to a halt on the tarmac and stopped. Seconds before crashing through the concourse of Birmingham Curzon Street station.

A policeman boarded the footplate. "Ah, the notorious Doctor Caballeron, I see," he said. "Come with me. You're under arrest."

"Whatever for?" the man with the strange accent replied.

"A long list of charges," the policeman replied. "Drunk and disorderly behaviour, taking away a locomotive without owner's permission, driving under the influence of alcohol, driving an unlicensed vehicle, careless driving, ignoring pedestrian crossing, failing to observe traffic sign, causing ashes and/or sparks to be emitted on highway, driving on the wrong side of the road, failing to report accident, malicious damage, excessive noise, defective tyres..."

Quibble left the footplate as the policeman rattled off an incredibly long list of charges. Wind Sprint was there, watching in confusion. "Would anybody believe us if we talked of this?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Quibble laughed. "Today sure was stranger than fiction!"

Bradford the Brake Van

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Murdoch was in a right state. "Get moving, you stupid trucks!" he shouted.

The long line of mixed trucks behind him didn't want to move, however. "Hold back, lads!" shouted one. They had been doing this all morning, and the heavy load combined with the lack of continous braking meant that Murdoch had only been able to move at a snail's pace. Unfortunately, it got worse. The trucks were also singing.

"Meet the gang, cause the trucks are here,
the trucks to irritate you!
T- R, U- C- K- S!
Trucks to irritate you!"

Vinyl whiped her brow and brought Murdoch to a stop. "It's no use," she said. "We might as well stop here and wait for a bit. They'll stop it eventually. Boy is that song irritating."

Just then, Donald arrived with a goods train from Barrow. "Hello there, Murdoch," he said. "Having trouble with your trucks?"

"You can say that again," Murdoch grumbled. "Why can't trucks come quietly?"

"Having trouble with your trucks?" Lyra asked, cheekily.

"Why are you asking the question again?" Vinyl asked.

"Well, Murdoch said 'you can say that again', so I did!"

"Do you have any advice?" Murdoch asked.

"Yes, actually," Donald replied. "Mine are very well behaved, and this new brake van is probably why." He puffed into the yard, revealing an LMS 20 ton brake van sitting on the back of the train. He was painted lime green with red lining, and his face had a scowl on it.

"Atrocious, what passes for goods trains these days," the brake van said, in a thick, deep Welsh accent. "Wait, is that you Murdoch?"

"Bradford!" Murdoch replied. "It's great to see you again. Why, I last saw you at Stranraer in 1958. What happened since then?"

"I was posted to a depot for a bit, and then ended up in preservation. I've been brought here to help get trucks in order, so that's what I'll do."

"I'll attach you to the back of my train," Murdoch replied. "Us celts must stick together, after all."

Moments later, Bradford was attached to Murdoch's train, and moments later he went into action. "RIGHT! LISTEN UP YOU HORRIBLE LOT! I'M IN CHARGE NOW! NO BUMPING, AND NO CHEEK! UNDERSTAND?"

"Well, we do ra-"

"SHUT UP! NOT A WORD FROM YOU, UNDERSTAND?"

The trucks fell completely silent.

"Thank you, lovely boys. Right, Murdoch, we're ready to go. Proceed carefully; partially unfitted, fourty five miles per hour maximum speed!"

"Roger that!" Murdoch replied.

"My name is Bradford, not Roger."

Safe to say, they had a very smooth run to Tidmouth marshalling yard, where Murdoch shunted the empties away into another siding, and then collected some loaded 16 ton coal trucks. The train was incredibly long, and Bradford was at the back.

"Right away!" shouted the yard foreman.

Murdoch began to move off, but Bradford shouted ahead. "Murdoch, stop!" he shouted.

Murdoch slammed his brakes on and stopped. "What's wrong?"

"Railway safety regulations clearly state that coal hoppers must not be loaded above the bottom of the grip plate of the unloading door! You'll either have to leave some behind, or find some more hoppers into which to put the excess load."

"We'll run late if we do that!" Vinyl exclaimed.

Bradford rolled his eyes. "Oh dear, how sad, never mind. Vinyl, following the rules is far more important than running on time. True, it is good to arrive on time, but better late in this life than early in the next."

It took them half an hour to transfer the coal into other vehicles, and by the time they got back to Vicarstown, they were running over an hour late. Sir Toppham Hatt was waiting there, and he did not look plased. "You're late," he said.

"Sorry for the delay!" Murdoch panted. "We had to move some of the coal around."

"Just get to your next job, and quick," Sir Toppham Hatt fumed.

Just then, Derek arrived. "I heard your brakevan was positively marvellous," he said. "Can we borrow him?"

"Be my guest!" Vinyl replied, and she and Murdoch moved off to collect some vans.

Derek backed his train onto the brake van. "Good evening!" he said. "I'm Derek."

Bradford scowled. "You're going nowhere until you've been cleaned up. You are in violation of British Railways Operations Code 24, Section 23, Paragraph 2, Subsection 6, Sentence 22; 'locomotives will not be operated unless they are in a presentable state'. Now go for a clean."

Octavia looked out of the cab. "Locomotives get dirty all the time. Besides, we'll run late if we waste time faffing about with a wash."

Braford scowled again. "But we'll run late if we waste time faffing about with a wash," he said, in a scarily accurate impression of Octavia's voice. "Now, you listen here, Mr la-di-dah Derek, orders are orders, and we must follow the rules and regulations, for without them where would we be?! Now, off to the washdown, LEFT RIGHT LEFTRIGHTLEFTRIGHTLEFTRIGHTLEFTRIGHT!"

Octavia sighed. "Well, bang goes that theory."

"Why are we referencing obscure British sitcoms?" Derek asked.

Henry also had trouble with Bradford. As he backed down onto the Flying Kipper, Bradford took offence. "Your centre lamp has a tiny crack in it," he said. "That will need replacing."

"But the depot is miles away!" Henry protested. "I'm certain it'll hold until the end of our run!"

"That's not the point!" Bradford interrupted. "Safety before timeliness, always. Now move!"

Henry sighed and puffed away. "Yes, sir."

Bradford smiled. "We'll have this place in order in no time."


At Tidmouth sheds, the engines and their drivers were all sharing their stories about Bradford, and none of them were positive.

"Henry and I ran so late that when we got to Vicarstown, we were 90 minutes behind schedule," Fluttershy finished. "The diesel that took over the train seemed very cross."

"He made me go and clean Derek up before we could take a mixed train out!" Octavia fumed. "Then he mocked our manner of speaking. It's not my fault I have a posh accent."

"He forced me to run at 25 miles an hour all the way from Arlesburgh to Tidmouth," Duck noted. "And he made Apple Bloom cry."

"He's causing this railway to run incredibly late!" Rainbow Dash fumed.

We don't have to work with him," Vinyl noted. "Hey, is Toad available?"

Murdoch paused. "It's a tricky one, Vinyl."

Unfortunately, they had a coal train to take out, with several overfilled trucks. And Bradford was the only brake van left.

"Now or never," Murdoch said. "I vote we go without him. As long as we keep to 45 miles an hour, we'll be fine."

"Agreed," Vinyl replied, and they set off, not hearing Bradford shouting after them.

Unfortunately, they soon ran into problems. A train had broken down ahead of them, and the signal was faulty. Murdoch slammed on his brakes, but skidded clean through the signal and without a brake van to provide extra braking force, he had no chance of stopping. He smashed into the broken down goods train and fell onto his side, splintered wood and bits of wagon frame going everywhere.

Sir Toppham Hatt arrived, and he was not happy. "Murdoch, Vinyl, what on earth were you two thinking? You know that you need a brakevan on a partially fitted train!"

Vinyl looked worried. "We were scared we'd be late and that you'd yell at us again!" she said quickly.

Sir Toppham Hatt sighed. "Firstly, I'm sorry for snapping at you yesterday over that. And second, following the rules is far more important than running on time. True, it is good to arrive on time, but better late in this life than early in the next."

"That's what Bradford said," Murdoch sighed. "Oh, I'm such a fool."

Later, when Murdoch was repaired and back in working order, he went back to the yard to apologise. "Hello, Bradford," he said. "Sorry for speeding off like that without waiting to hear what you had to say. You were right; following the rules is far more important than running on time."

Bradford pondered for a moment. "Well said," he replied. "But that wasn't why I was calling after you. I was calling to say goodbye. I'm going back to my home railway, and I don't know when I'll be back on Sodor- if at all."

Murdoch sighed. "It was nice to see you again," he said.

"You too, Murdoch. And your driver too, Vicarious?"

"Victoria. Or Vinyl. Either way."

Bradford was then hooked up to his train, and the formation set off. Unfortunately, the trucks began to sing.

"Picture a land where the sky is so blue, a storybo-"

"SHUUUT UP!"

A Better View for Gordon

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Gordon was feeling grumpy, and this was making James cross.

"Gordon, why are you complaining when there is nothing to complain about?" the red engine asked.

"Because," Gordon huffed, "I am a big blue engine and I know everything. Thus, I can complain about what I want, when I want. You, on the other hand, are just a small red engine with ideas above his station."

"Good Heavens!" Rarity exclaimed. "How rude!"

Percy looked over, confused. "I can't see any," he said. "Where are they?"

"Any what?" Gordon huffed.

"Ideas above the station. I can't see any. The sky is blue and clear of clouds."

Rainbow Dash sighed. "Oh, not this again. Ideas above your station is a metaphor for having ideas unsuitable for your position or temprament. It's a leftover of the class system."

James snorted. "The sky may be empty, but so is your smokebox, Percy!"

"It's not! It's got tubes, a blastpipe, a smokebox door (which can only be accessed when my boiler is lifted from its frames)..."

Gordon interrupted as Percy went on, James' point having flown completely over his funnel. "One day, I shall show you just what a big engine can do."

"Get stuck on hills with goods trains?" offered Edward.

"Be scared of cows?" added Thomas.

"Suffer a burst safety valve, a malfunctioning whistle, and then fall in a ditch?" James observed.

Gordon groaned. "Oh, the indignity. I shall never live those down." And he puffed away.

Twilight looked over in concern. "I think Gordon may be upset about something," she said. "Whenever he's having trouble, his first response is to push others away."

"Oh, honestly darling!" Rarity said. "Speaking rudely to others can never be justified."

"But you can try to understand why they feel the way they do," Fluttershy said quietly.

"Which is why Ah suggest we speak ta him later, when we've finished work," Applejack finished.

The girls agreed, and set off for their days.



Later that day, Gordon got a visit from Sir Toppham Hatt. "Gordon," he said, "We've got some new rolling stock that needs testing, and on top of that we're introducing a new timetable to try and cope with passenger demand. I need you to work a dummy run from Tidmouth to Vicarstown with the new stock."

"Why can't Henry do it?" Gordon asked. "He would love the chance to gallivant about whilst doing nothing productive."

"Engines on my railway do as they are told," Sir Toppham Hatt replied. "I thought the strike taught you as much."

"The sooner we get this over, the sooner we can do a proper run," Rainbow Dash told him, and off they went.



At Vicarstown, there are two stations, both of which were built at different times. The original Vicarstown was a terminating station, built in the early days of the Sodor and Mainland. This small, three platform affair was soon swamped with demand, and became too small for purpose. To this end, the Sodor and Mainland built a new, sprawling station two miles away to act as a junction with trains from the Furness Railway, and the old station was turned into a parcels depot.

Gordon was rolling along the approaches to Vicarstown New, and felt funny. "I seemed to be having trouble getting up to speed!" he said.

"Maybe you're due for an overhaul!" Rainbow Dash said, as they clattered into the platform and stopped.

"At least I called here, and not that boring parcels depot," Gordon smiled. "That depot only has a brick wall to look at, and another engine has to remove my train before I can leave and be turned." Soon, Gordon was turned and attached onto the other end. This was a real, timetabled run, so Gordon was keen to get as much speed up as he could.

Unfortunately, on the way he began to have problems. Gordon was losing steam pressure, fast, and before long something began knocking. "That doesn't sound good!"

Just then there was a loud bang, and something fell off and into the centre of the track. Rainbow Dash slammed the brakes on and brought him to a dead stop.

"What happened?" Gordon asked.

Rainbow Dash walked back up the track, holding some parts. "These came from your middle cylinder," she said. "That will need to be replaced at Crovan's Gate. We'll need a diesel to rescue your train now, and it's not safe for you to run."

BoCo soon arrived to take the coaches away. "Terribly sorry to hear about your prang, Gordon!" he said. "I hope you get better soon."

Gordon returned from the works a few days later. In the meantime, they had decided to overhaul him completely, and had done a stunning job. Unfortunately, it meant he was now worse than ever.

"I am the finest engine in the world," he said. "Nothing can match me!"

"So splendid that your left hand buffer is crooked," a workman said. Just then, Sir Toppham Hatt arrived.

"Come on Gordon!" he said. "I've decided to join Rainbow Dash on the footplate for your shakedown run. You'll be working from here to Vicarstown to check all is in order."

Gordon smiled. "That will be good."

All seemed well at first, but as they approached the Vicarstown approaches, Rainbow Dash tried to close the regulator. Nothing happened. "Uh oh," she said.

"What's wrong?" asked Sir Toppham Hatt.

"Gordon's regulator is stuck!" she replied, pulling on it again. "I can't get it to move!" She applied the brakes, but that only had a minimal impact. Gordon was a very powerful engine, and this was more than the brake blocks could handle, which were glowing white hot and screeching horrendously.

Suddenly, they swung to the left. They had been routed into the parcels depot! "Get out of the way!" Gordon shouted, as he barrelled towards the buffers.

He went into the buffers... and through them... and through the wall... and out the other side, falling clean out of the building before crashing into the warehouse opposite the parcels depot (which was thankfully empty at the time).

Gordon looked about. "Rainbow Dash? Sir Toppham Hatt?" he called. "Are you alright?"

There was no reply.

Gordon looked down. "Please let them be alright."

"You're the one I'm more worried about!" Rainbow Dash suddenly said, appearing nearby. "We bailed out. I've got a few bruises from the landing, but nothing serious."

"As for you," said Sir Toppham Hatt, "I know I wanted the parcels depot remodelling, but this wasn't what I had in mind. Looks like we'll be overhauling you... again."

Gordon sighed. "When can you get me out of this warehouse?"

"As soon as we can."

Safe to say, Gordon no longer complains about things. He knows that it is better to stay on his tracks, where he is safe.

We Need Another Engine!

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The engines of the Arlesdale Railway were excited. After many years languishing in publishing limbo, Mr Awdry and Mr Boston's book about the railway was finally going to be published, and there was a special launch ceremony taking place that day. Since we last visited the Arlesdale Railway, they had acquired a new engine. He was a squat, grey diesel with a tall cab and four wheels. His driver was a chap about the same age as the other drivers who worked on the line. He had grey skin, purple eyes, and black hair, and wore a black T shirt with white lining, orange slacks, and black boots. His name was Ryan, though he usually went by Rumble.

"Am I in it?" the diesel asked. His name was Frank, a name that was most apt if you think about it.

Mr Fergus Duncan shook his head. "Terribly sorry Frank," he said, "but the research and photography for the book was completed before you arrived on the railway. This, sadly, means you are not in it."

"What a shame," Rex said. "Being a moving picture in a book is quite fun, apparently."

Bert glared at him. "Don't remind me!"

"Alright, calm down!" Featherweight said. "I know this morning is a bit of a downer, but all this hot air isn't going to put a dent in the cold."

"I thould know about it," Twist said. "I can feel the cold, even with my jacket on. It'th freething!"

"Can't that girl talk properly?" Frank asked. He was in a bad mood.

"Frank!" Rumble snapped. Rumble had just arrived to start for the day. "That's not an appropriate thing to say. Twist can't help her speech impediment."

"Whatever," Frank replied. "I'm not in the book, and she is."

Rumble shook his head. "Honestly. It's only a book."

"But it has moving pictures in it!" Frank protested. "How will people know I exist if I'm not in a book!"

Rumble sighed. "No, no. The book has pictures in it. The moving pictures were released on DVD, and there were also some things written about them on the internet. Besides, it's not books that count on a railway. It's working together."

"I don't care," Frank grunted. With a roar, his engine started suddenly, and he shot backwards.

"Woah! Easy!"

It was too late. Frank smashed into the back wall of the shed and came to a sudden stop. He was undamaged, of course. But the back wall of the shed had a crack in it, and one of the supports was damaged in the impact.

Mr Duncan was not pleased, to say the least. "Frank," he said sternly, "that was very childish and silly of you. I will not tolerate such behaviour on my railway. There's a maintenance train with your name on it. Go and take it. Now."

Frank rolled away, grumbling all the while, whilst Bert looked over. "There's a maintenance train called Frank?"

Pipsqueak facepalmed. "No! That's an expression meaning 'it's intended for you'."

"Oh." Bert felt silly.

Later that day, Rex was making his way back towards Arlesburgh West with a heavy train of coaches. As he started to climb the first big hill out of the station, there was a strange sound, which caught Pip's attention. He looked closely at the steam gauge and looked worried.

"This doesn't look good," he said. "The pressure gauge is continuing to drop no matter how much I adjust the controls or the blower. I think we have a steam leak somewhere."

Rex continued to wheeze onwards as he rolled towards the loop halfway down the line. He didn't even notice Frank working in the adjoining siding, and by working I mean doing the bare minimum he could to avoid getting in trouble with Mr Duncan.

Rex ground to a halt in the loop whilst Mike rattled past with a ballast train. "Need a push?" he called.

"No thanks," Rex wheezed. "I think I'll be fine."

"I wouldn't count on it," Pip replied, and switched on his radio. "Arlesburgh West Control, this is Train Green, over?"

"Train Green, this is Arlesburgh West Control, please state your message, over?"

"Arlesburgh West Control, this is Train Green, Rex has a badly leaking steam pipe and we have stalled in the loop, over."

"Train Green, this is Arlesburgh West Control, understand Rex has a badly leaking steam pipe and has stalled in the loop. Will assistance be required, over?"

"Arlesburgh West Control, this is Train Green, assistance required, over."

"Train Green, this is Arlesburgh West Control, please hold position until assistance arrives. Out."

Rex sat there for several minutes. The rescue engine couldn't get into position until Bert had passed with his train, and the loop was clear. At long last, their saviour rolled into view, and Frank rattled to a stop.

"These radios are magnificent!" he said. "They allow us to stay in contact with control at all times, and to get around quickly too. Speaking of which, I hear you need a tow. I'll take the coaches home, and you can rest in the siding until later."

"Thanks," Rex said. "You seem oddly cheerful."

"I've had a while to think about what I did," Frank replied. "And holding grudges against photographers really isn't worth it. I'll be glad to help out."

Once Rex was off the train, and Frank was off and away with the coaches, Pip set to work at least trying to plug the leak, or at least get it to hold until they got back to the shed. They would follow down the line once the passenger train had cleared the section.

Rumble apologised to the passengers for the delay, but they didn't mind. They'd been expecting to walk, after all, and Mr Duncan was happy. "Excellent work, you two," he said. "The shed is repaired too, so we'll say no more about it."

Just then, Rex limped into the yard with Pip, blowing steam everywhere. "I have no idea what went wrong!" he said.

"It's probably just age," Pip replied. "If only we had a spare engine who could pick up the slack!"

"Preferably another steam engine," Rex commented. "One who doesn't damage shed supports."

"You," said Mr Duncan, "are right. We do need another engine to help out with the work, and I think I know how we can get one."

Sticking Power

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The holiday season on Sodor was drawing to a close, and truth be told Bert wasn't feeling in the best of shape. Rex and Mike, per usual, were not especially sympathetic.

"Poor old Bert!" Rex laughed one morning, as the engines were readied for service. "A shame he's out of puff. No stamina, these youngsters have!"

"Yoda are we?" asked Pip.

"What you need, Bert," Mike snorted, "is determination and sticking power."

"That's easy for you to say," Bert retorted. "You're only 49. I'm a lot older than you. Besides, sticking power be stuffed. I may be old, but at least I don't send my whistle flying into fields!"

That shut Mike up. But Twist spoke up for him. "He couldn't help that! Bethides, the pathengers helped us get home by playing audio of thteam whithleth!"

Rex looked over. "Twist, we were there. We remember it all too well."

Featherweight, who up to this point had said nothing, suddenly spoke up. "Bert has a point, you know," he said. "He does seem to be steaming very poorly. I'll go see Mr Duncan and ask him to order some new tubes for the winter refit." As he tooked Bert out of the shed and to his train, he spoke much more quietly. "Keep it under your dome, Bert, but rumour has it that we have a new engine on the way. He'll be quite handy if any of you break down!"

Bert ran surprisingly well that day. His tubes got a clean that morning, which helped a little, but even so he still felt absolutely rotten. The steep gradients and heavy trains certainly didn't help, and Bert was unhappy.

He felt better by the afternoon, however. He brought his train into Arlesdale End with a smile. The run hadn't been too bad, even with a fully loaded train packed full of holidaymakers, and he was only running 5 minutes late. The passengers dived out of the carriages and rushed for the tea rooms, keen to get their hands on ice cream and cups of tea (the sausage rolls had sold out again). Bert moved eagerly onto the turntable, and was turned on the turntable, so he was now facing the right way. He then moved forward, through the loop, and backed down onto the coaches. He seemed happier still.

"We've got time for a good breather!" he said. "It's a good thing this timetable is gentle, and we've mostly got a flat run back!"

"Indeed," Featherweight replied, taking out a rag and doing some momentary polishing. The timetable on the Arlesdale Railway has periods known as 'breathers' built into it. A train will always wait at one end for a set amount of time. This period can be adjusted if the train is running late. Normally, this period is 20 minutes, but if the train is running late, the five minutes are factored in and the wait cut to 15 minutes.

After 15 minutes had elapsed, the passengers reboarded the train, and the guard blew his whistle and waved his green flag. "Here we go!" Bert called.

Just outside of Arlesdale End is a steep hill, which the engines have to climb to reach a level gradient. If Bert could get safely through the climb, he was home free back to Arlesburgh West. He set off with a roar, smoke and steam blasting from his funnel as the coaches began to move.

"Hey! Take it easy!" Featherweight called. "We're not pulling the Royal Scot!"

"We might as well be with this weight!" Bert replied, as he exited the station and began the climb. The weight of the coaches suddenly pulled on his drawbar, and he responded by puffing harder still. "Come on! I'm not stalling here!"

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and everything seemed easier. But Featherweight brought him to a stop. "Oh dear!" he said. "Back we go! We left the coaches behind!"

Bert reversed into the platform and stopped, looking behind him at the mess. "What happened?" he asked.

"Well," Featherweight started, "the coupling on the coach attached to the tender snapped, and this caused the train to roll backwards into the platform. It's a good thing the brakes apply automatically in the event of a train break, or who knows what would've happened!"

"They'd have rolled into the buffers and stopped," the guard said. "Still, we'll have to stick around until somebody can get us a new one."

Bert fumed. "I know what Rex and Mike would say about that," he fumed. "They'd say I lacked sticking power!"

Featherweight had a brainwave. "Bert, you've given me an idea!" he said. "Do you remember that time when Wilbert moved a truck with coils of wire?"

"Yes," Bert replied. "Do we have any wire?"

"No, but we'll use the next best thing," Featherweight replied, suddenly producing a bottle of something. "We'll use metal glue! This stuff can stick everything!"

"Whoever heard of a train that was glued together?" Bert asked, incredulously. But then an idea flew into his funnel. "Haha," he smiled. "That'll stop their teasing."

After a few minutes, the glue had dried, and the train was ready to set off. "Go easy, Bert!" Featherweight called. "The passengers already know what has happened, and they understand we may not be back on time. What matters most is that they get home safe."

Bert was worried the glue wouldn't hold as they went over the hill, but it not only held, it stuck fast. The run from then on was easy, and when he got into Arlesburgh West the passengers cheered and congratulated him on a spectacular run. That night, Mike and Rex rolled into the shed, looking quite tired.

"What a day!" said Mike. "Thank Bassett-Lowke we're not that busy every day!"

Bert grinned as he watched Twist and Pip get their engines ready for bed. "You younger engines clearly lack sticking power!" he said, and he told them the story. "Oh well," he finished. "Good night."

Rex looked stunned. "Well, remind me not to mock him for poor steaming in future," he remarked. "Truly we are a useful railway."

"Indeed!" Mike added. "Never overlook a little engine!"

Jock

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"Do you know what I think?" asked Bert, not long after the next season had begun.

"No, as I'm not in your smokebox," Mike replied. "Do we have much time for thinking?"

"I'm not really surprised you'd make such a remark, given you've probably never done any yourself," Bert retorted.

"Any what?" asked Mike.

"Thinking."

"Ohh." The insult flew clean over Mike's smokebox. "Well, aren't you going to tell us what you think?"

"Something," said Bert, "is going on in the workshop."

"The sky is also full of clouds and rain," said Rex. "What is this, state the obvious week?"

"Perhaps they're doing work in there," Mike suggested. "It is a workshop, after all."

"Indeed," said Bert. "But something very important is clearly happening in there. The door was open yesterday afternoon, as I was waiting for clearance to access the turntable. I moved forward slightly, and looked inside. Sitting on the floor, was something. I moved forward again, and saw it was a boiler."

There was a momentary pause.

"Is that it?" Mike asked, sounding disappointed. "A boiler? I imagine they make those all the time. It could well be a spare for one of us."

"How many spare boilers also come with frames attached?" Bert retorted, sounding annoyed.

"It isn't standard practice," Rex admitted. "So, a new boiler, some frames attached to it. Were there any wheels?"

"Yes," Bert smiled. "And 10 of them too. It would seem something very substancial is being built inside that workshop, and that the men who work it are working wonders within." He then paused, for dramatic effect. "I think... dot dot dot... that they are building... dot dot dot... a new engine."

"DUN DUN DUN!" Mike and Rex said at once.

"A new engine?" Rex said. "Then again, I do recall hearing Mr Duncan saying something about another engine being needed when I came back in with leaky tubes. Clearly, he ordered a new engine rather than simply have one imported from somewhere. But that still leaves a lot of unresolved questions."

They decided to wait on it until their drivers came. As they were being prepped for service, Mike decided to be the first to speak up. "Twist?" he asked. "Can I ask you something?"

"Ath long as it'th not an Ithley Brotherth Joke, go ahead," Twist replied.

"It isn't!" Mike said.

"Good," Twist replied. "Athk away."

"What's the new engine called?" Mike asked innocently.

"How did you know about the new engine?" Twist asked, suspicious. "Nobody has thaid anything about it, and it was thuppothed to be a thecret!"

"Bert saw a boiler in the workshop, and put two and two together," Mike replied.

"That makes four," Bert said.

"Or 22," Featherweight offered.

Pipsqueak stared at him. "How on Earth did you get that?"

"One two, and another, put together side by side produces 22," Featherweight replied, a smile on his face.

"In this case, and means 'plus'," Bert pointed out.

Featherweight facepalmed. "Bert, it was a joke!"

Twist, seeing all the interruptions were going nowhere, decided to intervene. "We don't know what the new engine is called. After all, we haven't lit hith fire yet! Onthe we've lit hith fire and let him thpeak, he'll tell us what hith name ith."

"That's handy to know," Mike said. "I wouldn't want to be called anything else."

"Likewise," said Rex.

"Well, we picked our own nicknames for that reason," Pip replied. "Because we were given our real names by our parents."

"How interesting," Rex said. "Given when I was red, they used to call me Mike-"

"Please don't start all that again," Pip interrupted.

A few weeks passed, and the engines were readying for a day's work when suddenly the workshop doors opened. There was a blast of steam, and much wheeshing of cylinders, and out of the workshop rolled a new engine. He was much bigger than the others, and had long red frames. However, there was something odd about his appearance. His wheels were inside the frames, not unlike Bert, and his motion and valve gear rotated on the outside, fitted into large cylinders on the sides of his frames. He had a tall brass dome, a tall chimney, a large whistle mounted to an equally large cab, and a tangle of pipework attached to the side of his smokebox, much of which was attached to a Westinghouse air brake ejector which panted noisily as he rolled to a stop. A jumble of machinery was festooned along his running board, and his tender was large and spacious. He also had a set of grab rails installed on the front of his smokebox, and he smiled broadly as he was brought to a stop by a member of the depot crew.

"Well, he's got some interestingly shaped parts," said Rex. "Look at that square topped dome!"

"And what a funny colour," Mike added.

"It's not!" said Bert. "I think it suits him."

The engine smiled, and then spoke with a Scottish accent. "I think so too. The men at the depot say that it's only while I'm being tested. Then, it'll be something else. Maybe black or blue."

Mike looked like he was about to make a Queen reference, but then thought better of it. Another person, a boy, wandered over as well. He had light chocolate brown skin and two tone brown hair with a pair of brown eyes, and he had a multicoloured propellor hat nestled on his head, that never stopped spinning no matter what happened. He wore an orange T shirt with a white stripe across the upper chest, cream slacks, and brown and white laced up shoes.

"Hi!" he said. His voice was high pitched and would have been mildly irritating were it not for the earnestness of his expression. "I'm looking for the Arlesdale Railroad. Am I in the right place?"

"You most certainly are!" said Mr Fergus Duncan, who had just joined them. "Everybody, this is Button Mash. He's our newest driver, and has only recently arrived on Sodor, so make him feel welcome."

"Yeah, me, my dad, my mom, and my big brother only recently moved to Arlseburg," Button said.

"ARLESBOROUGH!" everybody corrected.

"I'm really called Brian, but I got my nickname thanks to my computing and gaming skills," Button said, sounding as though he was completely oblivious to how this sounded. "What's your names?"

"I'm Mike," said Mike, "and these are Rex and Bert. The drivers are Featherweight, Pipsqueak, and Twist."

"Does she also shout?" Button asked.

"Why ith that the firtht thing people alwayth athk?"

"What's that engine called?"

Suddenly, Douglas arrived in the yard with a goods train. "If yer lookin for a name, yon sirr," he said, "the livery reminds me of the old days in Scotland. Up in the Highlands, there was another railway that used that livery, called the Highland. We used to refer to those engines as Jocks."

The new engine had a brainwave. "Of course!" he said. "Jock! That's my name. I only just recalled it."

"Perfect!" said Mr Duncan. "You shall have that name. It's a far better name than National Westminster, after all."

"And the colour too, if you don't mind."

"Of course." Mr Duncan smiled. "Soon, we shall bring you into service, and show the world what a useful railway we are!"

Teamwork

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The testing program was finally complete, and Jock had worked flawlessly up to this point. It probably helped he was a very new engine, and was fitted with of the latest and most up to date features, based on technical ideas of Porta and Wardale, such as an advanced superheat system in the boiler, and a Lempor exhaust system, which made him very powerful indeed. He was so powerful, in fact, that most trains he could handle without any trouble, and he sometimes arrived early at his stops. People came from all over Britain to see the Arlesdale Railway, and sometimes just to see him. This, I am sorry to say, went straight to his smokebox, and made him conceited and puffed up, if you'll excuse the pun.

One morning, Jock was alone in the yard as the other engines were all at work, when suddenly a lorry arrived with a heavy load of sleepers and rails. Unfortunately, the driver couldn't squeeze the lorry into the yard, as the trailer was too big. "Brilliant!" said the lorry driver. "I can't fit the lorry into the yard proper, and we can't unload. What am I going to do?"

Button Mash suddenly had an idea. "Park the lorry next to the crane!" he called. "We'll transfer the equipment to the railroad there!"

"Thank you!" the lorry driver replied, and he repositioned the lorry next to the crane. But they found it didn't fit there either.

"I could tow the trailer into the yard," Jock said. "I've got the power, haven't I?"

"If you're sure you can do it," Button said, and he ran a cable from Jock's front coupling to the trailer. He then went back to Jock, set him into reverse, and began to back up towards the yard. Jock groaned and strained with the effort, but the trailer rolled backwards and into the yard, where it could be safely unloaded.

"Nice work, you two!" said Mr Duncan, who had emerged from his office to see what all the noise was about. "That's what I like to see; thinking outside the box."

Unfortunately, this made Jock even worse. "Road, rail, what do I care?" he said that night in the shed. "I can handle it all."

The other engines looked shocked at this. Rex glanced over. "You really are a most conceited engine, eh?"

"Pah!" Jock snorted. "You're just a fusspot."

The others decided not to speak up, but the next morning, Mike was sitting in the platform with another train. Although the train was fifteen coaches long, Mike could handle this load with ease. He was rather surprised when he saw Jock backing down onto the train, and as the other engine was coupled to the front he decided to speak up.

"Well, what's all this about?" he asked. "I've pulled goods trains heavier than this in the Lake District!"

"Perhapth the Controller wantth to be thertain," Twist said. "Maybe we have important people onboard, and if we were to break down it would be most embarrathing."

"Precisely," said Jock. "The Duke of Sodor is onboard the train, and he's here to see me specifically. So make sure I don't end up dragging the train."

Mike smiled, and whispered to Twist. "I have an idea to make him less conceited," he said. "We'll do it on the way up."

"Good idea!" Twist giggled, and she adjusted her glasses.

The Arlesdale Railway runs level out of Arlesburgh West for two miles, and then passes a place called Arlesburgh Bridge Street. From here, the line begins to climb fiercely, and both engines must work extra hard to avoid stalling. As the train rolled through the station, Twist shut off steam, and the full weight of the train was on Jock's tender coupling.

Button noticed the sudden deceleration, and looked over his shoulder. "Hey, what gives?" he asked.

"Mike's having thteaming problemth!" Twist said. "He needth a bit of a retht!"

"Looks like we're doing this on our own," Button Mash grimaced, and he changed his driving and firing accordingly. Smoke and steam belched into the air, and Jock's exhaust roared like an angry dragon as he stormed up the slope. His teeth were gritted from the strain, and he pitched and rocked back and forth as he continued the climb. When they reached the top, they'd only lost five miles per hour of speed, and even Mike looked surprised.

"I wasn't anticipating he'd be able to get this lot up the hill on his own," he said to Twist, as he suddenly kicked back in.

"Enjoy your rest?" Jock called.

"Yes, thank you," Mike replied. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself."

"Clearly, you couldn't keep up," Jock snorted, and ran off to the turntable.

"Jock!" Button exclaimed. "That wasn't a nice thing to say!"

"Most things aren't it seems," Jock snorted. "You humans have a saying, 'cruel to be kind', isn't it? I always found that idea fascinating."

Mike was so angry his safety valve triggered. When they had run round, he slammed onto the coaches with a bang, causing them to rock.

"Careful!" shouted the guard. "Passengers are trying to board."

"Company ruleth thay that pathengerth mutht not board whiltht the engine ith running round," Twist reminded him.

Once the passengers were onboard, and the signal dropped, Mike blasted out of the station with a roar, getting up to line speed in next to no time.

"Thteady!" shouted Twist. "We're not rathing anybody!"

"That's what you think," Mike said. "I've had quite enough of Jock's insults for one day." When they got to the water column to refill the tender, Twist tried to open the left hand injector.

Nothing happened.

"Could you let some more water into my boiler?" Mike asked.

"We only have one working injector!" Twist gasped. "You're not thafe to run! I'll need to call for another engine."

Mike's fire was dropped, and Jock was the engine to rescue them, towing them home. Little time was lost, and Duck was waiting at the station for any passengers who needed to transfer to the big railway.

When Mike was being fixed, Jock backed into the berth next to him. "Here to gloat?" he asked.

"No, to apologise," Jock replied. "Whilst at Arlesdale End, Button and I had a chat, and I came to realise something. "I'm not marvellous, or special, or the best thing since sliced bread. The only thing I am is a bit of a prat."

Mike felt guilty himself, seeing Jock in this state. "I shut off steam deliberately on the slope, in an attempt to pay you out. I am sorry."

"No worries," Jock smiled. "We need to work together, and stop trying to get one up over the other. What else would we be otherwise?"

"Teamwork underpins all railways," Button continued. "And without it, we cannot be really useful."

Twist smiled. "Friendth?" she asked.

"Yeah, let's," Button replied.

Jock smiled, proud to be one of the team.

Henry Sees Red

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Henry had gone into Crovan's Gate for maintenance. It was perfectly routine, of course, as all engines need checking over once in a while. Unfortunately, they had discovered some very serious things indeed in the course of a routine inspection, and these needed rectifying. Henry was being fitted with new tires on his driving wheels, amongst other things, and he would also be getting a new whistle to replace his old one. A cylinder would also be replaced, but the work dragged on longer than expected. The work was long, and Henry soon grew extremely bored. The workmen did their best, but they were only human, and there was only so fast that they could work.

Eventually, however, he was ready. The workmen completely reassembled him, and then put him through a full steam test. In this capacity, he performed flawlessly. Then some men came to repaint him. First, they chiselled away the old layers of paint, till he was back to the metal on the cladding. Then, the men applied a fresh coat of paint. Henry was dismayed.

"That's not green!" he exclaimed. "That's red! I'm not a Jubilee! I'm a Black- erm, Green Five!"

The painters laughed. "There's nothing to worry about!" they said.

Fluttershy then took up the mantle of explaining. "That's called an undercoat, Henry," she explained. "It's a special coat of paint that is meant to keep your boiler cladding protected from rust. They will soon put the green and red stripes on top of that, and you will be ready to run again."

"If it's only temporary, then it is fine," Henry conceeded. "But I'll still look like somebody dumped a bottle of tomato sauce on me!"

The painters laughed, and continued work.

The next morning, Fluttershy hurried into the works and lit Henry's fire. "I'm sorry to wake you so early, Henry!" she said. "But there's an emergency at Vicarstown, and we need to help!"

"But I'm not finished!" Henry protested. "What if this coat doesn't work! What if the other engines laugh at me?"

"They won't laugh at you, because that's a very mean thing to do," Fluttershy replied, and waited for Henry's boiler pressure to build.

Eventually, they were ready to move, and ran down the line tender first to Vicarstown. On the way, they saw Bear, who had been shunted into a siding. "Sorry for breaking down, old chap!" he said. "Best of luck on the run!"

"Thank you," Henry replied, as he backed onto the coaches. He saw Sir Toppham Hatt standing on the platform, and decided to address him. "Sir, I feel ridiculous. I'm worried the other engines will find it funny."

Sir Toppham Hatt put his hand underneath his chin. "Well, I will admit you do look a bit unusual. But that's a lot better than the passengers having to catch a bus. Besides, you're hardly the strangest thing I've seen on this railway. Good luck, and may the winds be with you!"

Henry soon set off for Tidmouth. The departure time would have been too soon, no matter what time it was, and he was worried. "This train is long and heavy!" he said. "I hope we don't stall."

Fluttershy glanced out ahead. "I think we'll need to request a banking engine up the hill," she said. "You'd struggle to get this lot over."

They were in trouble long before then. As they passed through Kellsthorpe Road, the emergency brakes slammed on and the train ground to a halt. The brakes on the rear coach had failed, and Henry had to move it out of the way as the yard pilot had failed. To make matters even worse, the banking engine had gotten delayed on the return to Maron, so Henry had to attempt the climb over Gordon's Hill alone.

"Don't worry Henry," Fluttershy soothed, "You can do it. You're good as new, and a hard worker. I believe in you."

Henry, fired with determination, was ready to go. Fluttershy cranked open his regulator, and he began to get speed up as he charged the hill. He had been mended well, and his steam pressure held steady as he continued to accelerate. He continued to gain speed, the hill seeming to stretch ahead of him into infinity.

"I will do it! I will do it!" he panted. The nine coaches behind him dragged and threatened to pull him down again, but he would not be deterred, and continued to climb with determination. His boiler pressure stayed high, and he was even gaining speed on the uphill. His exhaust boomed and steam shot high into the sky, meaning those who had turned out on the lineside saw a truly spectacular sight indeed. At long last, Henry cleared the summit, and he was up and over, and soon running down the other side. From then on, Henry had to be held back as he thundered along the line to Tidmouth. There was only one intermediate stop at Knapford, and it was here Sir Toppham Hatt disembarked.

"Well done, Henry!" he said. "You did an incredible job, and made enough noise for 10 engines. Perhaps I should repaint all of my engines red if it produces performances like that. But you have earned your green coat with red stripes." Suddenly, he got a call on his phone. "Hello? Edward has broken down and there's no engine? Send James! What do you mean he's painted pink? There's no other engine! Besides, if Henry is anything to go by, an engine in undercoat performs superbly."

A new coat of paint was precisely what Henry got, of course. Henry was hailed a hero, and when he returned to the shed, he was greeted with great cheers and a giant chorus of whistles, as he was once more Henry the Green Engine.

James also had a fairly easy time out on the line as well. Although he was painted pink, he and Rarity had no real issues. After all, in the day, pink was a very masculine colour!

Steam to the Rescue, Part 1

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It was evening time on Sodor, and although most of the trains had been put to bed for the night, there was still work that needed to be done. Locomotives were still busy marshalling stock for the night, to be kept safe before it went out the next morning, and engines continued to work well after the sun had gone down (which was fairly early, as this was Autumn).

At Tidmouth Harbour, Cranky was starting to get concerned. Ships were still arriving despite it being so dark, and he was concerned. "Hurry it up, Derek!" he said. "There's a blockage of ships waiting to enter and drop their cargo! There's only so long the harbourmaster can stall them, you know!"

"Got it! On my way now!" Derek set off for the yard with some loaded wagons, whilst BoCo returned with some empty wagons.

"Got some fresh cargo for me?" BoCo asked, as he positioned the flatbeds in position.

"Just dropping it in now." Cranky began to lower the pipes with his hook, but he couldn't have known that the pipes had not been secured properly by the boat crew. The cables lost their grip, and the pipes fell out and onto the ground. They crashed onto the dockside, some of them rolling off into the sea or onto other ships. One hit BoCo directly, and caused him to tip over onto his side, derailing him and blocking the line.

Filthy Rich, thankfully, had bailed when the pipes started falling, and went to check on his engine. "BoCo! Are you alright?" he asked.

"I've had worse," BoCo replied. "But the line to the sidings is blocked! Derek has no way of getting back now!"



The next morning, the breakdown crane arrived, and BoCo was lifted to safety. Thomas, not surprisingly, was the one who had arrived with the cranes and their attached flatbed, but lacked the power to take BoCo to Crovan's Gate.

Sir Toppham Hatt arrived. "Thank you for making the extra trip, Thomas," he said. "BoCo's accident has put us in a serious spot of bother. We're now one engine down, and need another to take over here."

"I can do that, sir," Thomas said.

"You can count on us!" Twilight smiled.

"As much as I appreciate the enthusiasm, I need you two on the Ffarquhar Branch. Heaven knows things are going wrong. We've also had a bad lot of coal lately, and Arry and Bert are having technical problems too."

Thomas sighed. "Of course, sir." He set off back to Knapford whilst Derek rumbled forward with some tankers.

"I say, this fuel's bad!" he said, as he lurched forward. His engine stalled, caught again, rumbled a bit, and then stopped completely. "Oh bother!"

Octavia jumped out and took a look. "This fuel is contaminated!" she said. "Water is seeping into the fuel system, which is what caused your engine to fail. I can only hope the diesel hasn't got to any of the other diesel engines on the island." She set about washing Derek's fuel tanks out.

Unfortunately, Octavia was wrong. The new fuel had already been introduced to fuelling pumps across the island, and one by one the diesels on the island suffered various mechanical failures. The only diesel that remained operating was Bear, and that was because he'd only just returned to the island.

"Hello?" Shining said, as he answered the telephone. "Yes? Don't use the Island fuel pumps. Got it. We've got more than enough for a day's work."


Thomas was returning from the docks when he suddenly saw Percy speed past. "Hello Percy!" he called. "Where are you going?"

"To the docks!" he called.

Pinkie then took up the conversation. "Derek'sbrokendownandweneedtohelphimOKbye!"

"Pinkie, slow down!" Twilight said. "I didn't understand a word!"

"Oh," Pinkie replied. "Silly me. Derek's broken down and we need to help him OK bye!"

Thomas sighed. "See you soon. Can this day get any worse?"

Thomas was about to regret tempting fate, as when he returned to Knapford Station only Edward and James were there. "What happened?" he asked.

"It's this darn coal!" Applejack fumed. "The stuff's awful quality, and it's damaged the bigger engine's fireboxes. Eddie and James here can take it, as they were designed ta take it. But the bigger engines can't cope none."

"And that means Gordon, Henry, Murdoch, and heaven knows who else is out of service!" Rarity said, with her usual drama. "Oh, woe is us!"

"There's no need to be such a drama queen," Sweetie Belle said, as Stepney reversed into the yard, followed by Duck and Oliver.

"I AM NOT BEING A DRAMA QUEEN!"

Just then, Sir Toppham Hatt arrived. "Hello, everyone!" he said. "Now then, we're in a bit of a mess. As most of you know, BoCo was damaged in an accident at the docks, and not long after Derek broke down. Following that, most of the diesels on the island broke down as well, something about contaminated fuel. As if things weren't already bad enough, most of the bigger engines have failed due to poor quality coal damaging the firebox doors and leaky tubes. I've called for help from the mainland, but it'll be a few hours until the engines can get here. Until then, it'll be down to you to keep things moving as best you can."

Donald and Douglas blasted in that moment. "We're ready ta help, sir!" they said.

"Excellent," Sir Toppham Hatt replied. "I need you two, as well as James, to assist with freight work. There's a lot to move, so you'll each by working solo."

"That'll be an interesting experience," said Bon-Bon."

"You can say that again," Lyra replied.

"That'll be an interesting expe-"

"NOT LITERALLY!"

"Thomas, you will be working on your branchline alongside Toby. Toby has already collected Henrietta and has commenced passenger shuttles. Edward, I will need you on your branchline. Percy is already allocated to the docks."

"What about us, sir?" asked Duck.

"I need you and Oliver to operate passenger shuttles from Knapford to Crovan's Gate. Bear and another steam engine are already down there, so they'll handle the rest of the run from Crovan's Gate to Vicarstown."

"And what about me?" Stepney asked.

"You're working Knapford to Tidmouth. If you have the time, assist Percy."

Another whistle sounded as a familiar sight rolled into the yard. "Hello!" called Wilbert. "I didn't expect to be back so soon, but a friend needed help. I'll handle the yard here so you guys can get working!"

Twilight glanced out of Thomas' cab. "Such a busy day," she said. "And it's hardly even started. How will we get everything done!"

"The same way we do everything," Edward smiled. "Hard work, and determination. Let's go!"


The rest of the morning was pretty frenetic. Donald, Douglas, and James blasted up and down the mainline with goods traffic, interspersed with passenger shuttles operated via auto trains. The timetable was drastically reduced, but the passengers didn't mind. They knew there were difficulties, and some relished the chance to travel behind engines that didn't usually work on the main line.

The Ffarquhar Branch ran pretty much as normal, as did Edward's branch line. Wilbert and Torque Wrench worked relentlessly to get the trains assembled and ready to go, but no sooner had one train gone, then another came in to be taken apart.

Meanwhile Percy got to work, but the docks were an absolute mess. The idiots at the dockside had kept dumping cargo onto the docks rather than waiting for existing freight to go. It would take him a very long time to clean up...

Steam to the Rescue, Part 2

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Back at Knapford Yard, shunting was still ongoing. Wilbert was doing a fine job shunting the trucks, but he was only one engine, and the loads were extremely heavy. No sooner had he finished assembling one train, another arrived to be taken away. He had been going flat out for hours, and he felt tired. "I'm not normally one to complain about workload," he said. "But this is a lot of trucks!"

"Tell me about it," Torque Wrench replied, wiping her brow. "This is far heavier loads than we had to handle at Bickershaw!"

Thomas suddenly returned to Knapford. "Having fun?" he called.

"We can manage!" Wilbert replied.

Sir Toppham Hatt emerged with his office, not looking his best. One could only infer that the stress of running the railway in this state was starting to get to him. "Ah, Thomas, there you are," he said. "We're one engine short at Vicarstown, so I need you to head there and assist with clearing the yards."

"But who will help Percy at the docks?" asked Thomas.

"I'll dispatch another engine to assist Percy once the extra engine from the mainland arrives to help at Vicarstown."

"Can't James go?" Twilight asked. "Oliver and Duck have been doing a superb job on the passenger trains."

"James is busy with goods traffic," Sir Toppham Hatt replied. "Faust only knows there's a lot of it."

James rushed past with a cattle train as Thomas set off for Vicarstown.


The docks were still in a mess. Lines of trucks miles long snaked through the yard, and Percy was having a hard time keeping track of it all. "I hope another engine gets here soon!" he said. "We're rushed off our wheels here!"

"I don't have wheels, I have hands!" Pinkie said. "Though I did once see another me that did..."

"Incoming!" Cranky called, dumping yet another load of crates on the dockside. Percy backed into these by mistake.

"Hey! Stop unloading things whilst I'm still working!"

"We really need some help," Cranky sighed. "Those boats aren't going anytime soon."


Thomas rolled to a stop at Vicarstown as Bear roared away with a passenger service for Vicarstown. He was, however, rather surprised to see Albert already there, shunting in the yard. "Sir Toppham Hatt said you wouldn't be here until later!" Thomas called.

"We were cleared through ahead of a passenger train," Albert replied. "Myself and Arthur have got this yard covered. You're free to head back to Knapford, as I believe your instructions tell you to."

"Good lot of trucks here, eh Albert?" Arthur called, as he moved some more to a stop. "It's busy here."

Thomas started his run back to Knapford, worried at what would happen next.

When he arrived, Sir Toppham Hatt dashed onto the platform. "Thomas, we're in a massive muddle!" he said. "You can't go to the docks yet, as we've got some new diesel fuel to replace the contaminated loads. You need to take that to Crovan's Gate."

"What about Percy?" Thomas asked.

"We don't have enough engines to do all the work allocated!" Sir Toppham Hatt said.

"Are you sure?" Twilight asked. "There's Bill and Ben, and Toby, and several others to name a few."

"They're all busy elsewhere!" Sir Toppham Hatt replied. "I'm having to juggle everything right now, and it's all a massive mess."


Things were about to get even messier. Percy was trying to navigate through the massive mountains of crates piling up on the dockside when suddenly, it happened. Stepney was trying to move his coaches into the sidings so he could help move some trucks, but one of the crates was positioned far too close to the line. The coach knocked it out of place, and with a crash it collapsed.

This, in turn, started a chain reaction. The mountains of cargo began to collapse. It fell off the sides of the harbour. It piled up in towers on the lineside, spilling goods everywhere. It collapsed into giant tunnels, burying anything underneath. It flattened anything that was sitting on top of the trucks. It trapped Percy and Pinkie in a massive pile of rubbish. The only thing that didn't happen was what should have happened- the mess staying upright.

It was about to get worse. Mountains of crates fell on top of a set of fuel drums, which were leaking. The sparks created by the accident caused an explosion, and a warehouse caught fire.

Thomas saw the explosion from several miles away, and gasped. "Percy's in danger!" he said. "The docks are on fire!"

His worst fears were confirmed when he saw Harold fly by, followed by several fire engines from stations all across the island. Driving, not flying.

"I know what we must do," Twilight said. "The engines at Knapford should be back in working order by now, and we can get their aid!"

Thomas rattled to a stop at Knapford as Gordon and Henry were being readied for duty. "Hopefully the smaller engines will have cleaned up most of the work," Henry said. "They have been buzzing about like bees today."

"You'll need to help sooner than you think!" Thomas said.

"Really?" Murdoch asked, half asleep as he rolled into the yard. "I thought you guys had handled most of the work."

"As you can probably see from the smoke and flames," Thomas continued, "the docks are in terrible danger. They need help to clean up a mess, put out a fire, and get all those trucks moved out of the way. Not least rescue Percy."

"Has he been working there?" Gordon asked.

"We've been rather out of the loop, as you can probably guess," Rainbow Dash said.

"It may take all night to clean the docks, rescue Percy, and save our friends," Thomas continued. "Those crates may take our sleep, but they will never take our Percy!"

There was stunned silence. "That film was terrible," was all Murdoch had to say.


At the docks, the firefighters were trying to hack their way through the mountains of garbage to get to the fire, but no sooner had they cut through one load of boxes, another load fell into their place. "We need backup!" one shouted. "Request additional manpower!"

Stepney was trying to move wagons as best he could, but the loads were too heavy, and plucky spirit only got you so far. "We need help!" he called.

Just then, Sweetie Belle heard puffing in the distance. "There's somebody approaching!" she said.

Harold hovered over to see what it was. "There are several engines approaching!" he called. "Help has arrived!"

The increased power was more than enough to help clear the mess. The engines worked incredibly hard to move the wagons away from the danger zone, and with that the fireman could get through to the blaze and start to fight it before it spread. More rubble was carted away by the combined power of the locomotives, and at long last Percy was freed and recovered.

Thomas looked worried when he saw how dirty and messy Percy was. "Percy, I'm so sorry I didn't come and help like I'd promised!"

"That's alright," Percy said. "I forgive you. Besides, it's been a busy one for us all!"

At long last, the disaster was over, and life on Sodor could sort of return to normal. Not least as all the diesels still needed fixing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LYj38SHJ2OQ

Interlude 5

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CsKw2szuUP4

Welcome back, to our final set of stories. Life on Sodor, despite the chaos of the engine breakdowns, is still as fun as ever. In this next series, another old friend returns, an annoying person causes trouble, Gordon proves his worth, and steam engines and diesels are forced to work together to save the Island once more.

Autumn Blaze's Busy Day

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It was yet another early morning on Sodor, and the engines at Tidmouth Sheds were being readied for duty. They expected a long day ahead of them.

"So, what will today bring, I wonder?" James asked, as Rarity opened his cylinder cocks.

"Hopefully an express train," Gordon said.

"It's not as if we pull anything else," Rainbow Dash replied.

"Apart from goods trains, and pipes, and chase down runaway engines, and go down the wrong line, or fall in a di-"

"PINKIE!" everybody else chorused.

Thomas glanced about. "I wonder where Sir Toppham Hatt is?" he wondered. "He's normally here by now."

"Maybe he's delayed," Twilight suggested.

"Or confused," Fluttershy whispered.

"Ah'd hate fer him ta be both," Applejack noted. "Normally, we're the ones causin' that."

Suddenly, there was a golden glow at the lineside. "Look at that!" exclaimed Henry. "The lineside is glowing!"

Suddenly, the glow grew brighter, and a familiar figure popped out the other side and landed on her feet. "And fell in love with this opera singer, and he wore a freaky half-mask thing, and he played the organ a lot and got all broody 'cause the singer was in love with another dude, so he took her away on this underground gondola. I mean, who doesn't love musical theater?!"

"It's Autumn Blaze!" called Percy. "Hello Autumn!"

The engines all whistled a happy greeting.

"Hello guys!" Autumn Blaze replied, smiling. "You all have SO much fun to have today! You may be wondering where Sir Toppham Hatt is. Well, the last few days have taken a toll on him, and he's come down with something. So he asked me to look after you whilst he was indisposed. It'll be just like old times!"

"Do you have our jobs for us?" Rarity asked.

"Of course! Here are the manifests now."

Just then, a car pulled up outside the shed, and an old woman got out. She had white hair and wore a large brown hat. She also had a white suit on, paired with a pink coat. "Excuse me, but who are you?" she asked.

Autumn Blaze wheeled around and jogged over. "Hello ma'am!" she said. "I'm Autumn Blaze. I'm looking after the railway whilst your son recovers from his illness."

Edward blinked. "So this is Dowager Hatt," he said. "I thought the voice sounded familiar."

Dowager Hatt seemed unconvinced. "I find that very hard to believe," she said. "The railway of the Island has been run by a member of the Toppham Family since the 1970s uninterrupted, and I don't intend for that to change anytime soon."

"What about the narrow gauge railway, or the Arlesdale line?" Percy asked. "Neither of those are operated by the North Western."

Autumn Blaze was next to speak. "Besides, somebody has to run the railway! It can't be left to run by itself!"

"Then I shall run it myself!" Dowager Hatt exclaimed. "Besides, how hard can it be?"

"Famous last words," Murdoch grumbled.

"Besides, you don't know anything about running a railway!" Autumn Blaze protested.

"Considering the chaos that happened the last time you were in charge, neither do you," Dowager Hatt replied. "Take her away, boys!"

Suddenly, two men walked over, picked her up, and walked off with her. "Hey! What sort of a joke is this?"

Dowager Hatt had taken the manifest in the meantime, and took a look at it. "That's better. Now, let's get down to business."

"There aren't any huns around here," James quipped.

"No Germans?" Thomas offered.

"The politically incorrect habit of calling Germans 'huns' stems from a misreading of a German Bible," Twilight said, in full boffin mode. "Those traditionally have the words 'Gott mitt uns' on the front, which means 'God with us'. British soldiers, whose foreign language comprehension was generally very poor, misread 'uns' as 'huns'."

"Anyway," Dowager Hatt said. "Thomas, I need you to run to Brendam Docks to collect my hat."

Thomas was confused. "Why is an engine being sent to pick up a single hat? And why Brendam? Sure it would make more sense to send Edward there, as that's his branchline!"

Dowager Hatt blinked. "OK." She pointed to Murdoch. "What's your name?"

"Murdoch, ma'am."

"Michael, you can do Thomas' work whilst he collects my hat."

"What?" Murdoch asked. "All due respect, but I'm a heavy freight engine. I'm not designed to work stopping passenger trains. I lack steam heating, for one, and my tractive effort would probably damage Annie and Clarabel."

"Don't worry, we'll find another engine to do your work. I'm off to Knapford, where I'll be able to manage things more efficiently." Dowager Hatt walked to her car and drove off.

Vinyl spoke up for the first time that morning. "Well, today's gonna be a disaster."

"Looks like I'm off to collect a hat," Thomas sighed.

"Guys!" said a voice, and Autumn Blaze reappeared around the corner. "We merely have to give Dowager Hatt the illusion that she's in charge, and we can do all our normal work on top of the silly jobs she assigns." She handed out all the job lists again, and waved to them. "Good luck! I'm off to Knapford."



At Knapford, Dowager Hatt had just finished setting up her desk when Murdoch arrived with Annie and Clarabel. "Why are you pulling us?" Annie asked. "Where is Thomas?"

"Sorry girls, but I'm going to be pulling you two as far as Knapford Junction today," Murdoch said. "Dowager Hatt's made a few... alterations."

"That's one way of putting it," Rainbow Dash said, as Gordon came to a stop. "Where are the coaches? The yard pilot is supposed to have them ready."

"Ah, there you are Geoffrey!" Dowager Hatt exclaimed.

"Who's Geoffrey?" Gordon asked. "I'm Gordon!"

"Seeing as Millicent-"

"Murdoch!"

"-is tied up at the moment, I need you to work his freight train."

"I beg your pardon?" Gordon asked. "I'm an express engine! Different engines can do different jobs differently."

Dowager Hatt, who was holding a buttered scone in her hand, put it down on a table. "Goodness me!" she exclaimed. "You wouldn't speak like that to my son, would you?"

"No, but you're not your son, are you?" Gordon asked, rhetorically.

"I think he would be very cross to learn you were rude to his sweet old mother, don't you Rapunzel?"

"It's Rayne," Rainbow Dash growled through gritted teeth, doing all in her power to avoid yelling at this woman.

"Right then Gavin, off you go!"

Gordon sighed as he rolled away. "Oh, the indignity."

"I'll see you at Knapford Junction!" called Murdoch.

"Hopefully she'll have stopped getting our names wrong by then," Vinyl grumbled.

For the rest of the morning, the engines engaged in an increasingly ludicrous game of pass the parcel, swapping trains at various points to ensure two sets of instructions got done. Unfortunately, the situations got even more silly.

Whilst resting in the yard, James decided to vent his frustration to Henry whilst both were waiting for more work. Edward rolling past with a cake finally got him to snap. "This is absurd!" he said. "Delivering balloons, dropping off cakes, moving hats! This is not what a railway is for, and I have no idea whether I'm coming or going."

"Indeed," said Henry. "We're stuck here, and can't go and do our proper job until she's assigned us a silly one."

Fluttershy looked over. "I don't she'll be done with the flower beds any time soon."

Luckily, help was on the way, Autumn Blaze deciding to emerge from the shadows and deal with the situation. "Dowager Hatt?" she said. "I really must protest. This place is a mess!"

"Oh, nonsense," Dowager Hatt replied dismissively. "The railway is running normally."

"But nobody is doing the work they need to do, and engines have been allocated to the wrong work!" Autumn Blaze explained. "Murdoch was working a stopping passenger, Gordon was taking his goods train, Thomas is off collecting a hat of all things, and you allocated Donald to the Express, which is now stuck on Gordon's Hill."

"That's funny," Dowager Hatt said. "He seemed so willing."

Autumn Blaze looked like she was going to blow her lid. "Would you excuse me just one moment?" she asked. She vanished around the back of the newsagents, and there was a brief blast of fire and a scream of rage. Then she popped back out. "Ah! Nothing like a quick blast of nirik to calm one down."

Dowager Hatt blinked. "Oh no," she said. "I've made such a mess of running the railway. I'm so sorry, Autumn. I should have listened to you, but my pride overruled any sense I had. And Bertram will be so cross!"

"Don't worry," Autumn Blaze replied. "I'll help you out. Sometimes it has to rain to let the sun shine through."

And so, they got everything back to normal. When Sir Toppham Hatt arrived that evening, looking very well indeed, he was surprised at how well everything was running. "Autumn Blaze did a smashing job!" he said.

"Well sir," Autumn said, "I can't take all the credit. Some of it must go to Dowager Hatt. She was very helpful."

Just then, Thomas arrived. "Sorry this hat is so late!" he said.

Sir Toppham Hatt looked confused. "Eh?"

"Just a slight technical hitch!" Autumn Blaze explained quickly. And all was well on Sodor.

High Speed Gordon

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Donald was staying at Tidmouth Sheds one night. Work had run late on the branch line, and it was too late for him to return to Arlesburgh shed. Even so, he seemed to be interested and excited by something he had seen.

"I saw one of those 'High Speed Trains' whilst at Barrow today," he said, with a smile on his face.

"What's a high speed train?" Gordon asked.

"They have a diesel engine at each end, and several coaches between them. They can run at up to 125 miles an hour, and are pretty good at going up and down hills too!"

"That sounds familiar," said Thomas. "Remember when those inspectors from Network Rail visited, with that strange yellow train?"

"That was indeed an HST," Donald said, with a smile. "That's the one fitted with the track monitoring equipment. They call it the Flying Banana."

Henry snorted. "The Flying Banana?" he laughed. "Whatever next? The Galloping Fruitcake?"

Gordon seemed cross. "A diesel at each end, eh?" he said, scornfully. "Pathetic. I reckon I could go as fast as them, if not faster. There's only one of me, after all. Besides, one of my cousins did 126!"

"And nearly shook himself to bits doing it," James pointed out. "Besides, you don't have the best of luck with high speed runs."

"Never trust domeless engines!" said Edward. "They aren't respectable."

Gordon fell silent. For the night, at least. But once morning came, and the drivers came to ready their engines for service, he was once again boasting. "Speed is nothing to me," he said confidently. "Why, one of my cousins went at-"

"One hundred and twenty six, we know," Rainbow Dash interrupted, as she took the driver's seat. "We, on the other hand, are limited to seventy five, given the speed limits. Remember what happened last time you tried to break a record?"

"The passengers laughed at me," Gordon said. "Oh, the indignity."

Rainbow Dash opened the regulator, and Gordon puffed away across the turntable and towards the yard. Gordon was normally allocated to the first Wild nor'Wester service of the day running nonstop from Tidmouth to Vicarstown, although James, Henry, Bear, and sometimes even Murdoch took it. Today, the service was to depart first from Tidmouth, so Gordon was reversed a short distance along the line and rolled into the big station at Tidmouth. There, he was held at a shunt signal for a few minutes, as the station pilot was yet to finish moving the coaches into position. Rainbow Dash glanced back and looked at the load with concern.

"It's longer than usual," she said, worried. "Normally we only have to pull ten. We've got fifteen on the back. That's 540 tons tare, and who knows how much gross?"

"Stuff and nonsense!" said Gordon. "I am a big and strong engine. I can move anything!"

"Maybe," Rainbow Dash said quietly. "But the icy rails and wet weather aren't filling me with confidence."

It had been a cold night, and there was a thick film of frost on the track. This was combined with a rainstorm and a lot of wind, which produced an icy film on the tracks. The coaches stood safe under the station canopy, but the longer train meant that Gordon would have to start off from outside the canopy. As he was coupled up, the passengers began to climb aboard. Apart from the usual crowd who used the service to travel from one end of the island to another, the Wild nor'Wester was also very popular with tourists and those often dismissively referred to as 'anoracks'. This was because it was one of the few remaining timetabled high speed steam workings in Great Britain, or 'plandampf' to use the German expression.

It took several minutes to get everybody onboard, especially those with ludicrous numbers of bags, and Gordon grew colder and colder. "Come on!" he said. "Let's get going! It's freezing out here, and the sooner I get my motion on the move, the better."

Rainbow Dash checked back down the platform to see whether the guard was there. The guard suddenly appeared, waving his green flag and blowing his whistle. "Good, no floppy green hats this time," she smiled, and pulled her head back in. "Here we go!" she called. "Next stop, Vicarstown!"

She released the brakes, waiting for the needle to reach 21 inches of mercury, and then set them to running. Finally, she opened the regulator.

What happened next would always be remembered... for all the wrong reasons. Gordon's wheels slipped on the damp rails, and he jerked forward suddenly. Water rushed forward through the boiler. Gordon had a parallel boiler, so this meant that he lacked the curved tubing that would naturally pull water forward. This meant that it collected and caused his regulator valve to jam, meaning Rainbow Dash couldn't shut it!

"SHUT OFF STEAM!" Gordon shouted. "MY WHEELS ARE SLIPPING!"

Rainbow Dash opened the cylinder cocks and tried to use that to vent steam and correct the spin, but that didn't work. There was too much water and far too much weight in the train, and Gordon skidded helplessly. Sir Toppham Hatt came up the platform and shouted some things, but Gordon was producing so much noise that nobody could hear them.

This went onwards for 15 minutes, until Gordon had finally used up the excess water. Rainbow Dash slammed the regulator shut with a sigh of relief. "I'm glad to have all that noise out of my ears," she said.

Sir Toppham Hatt said something, but she couldn't make it out. "What?" she asked. Suddenly, it all made sense to her. She couldn't drive the train, as the noise had made her temporarily deaf.

Henry came to take the express on its journey, with James piloting, whilst Gordon was dumped on a siding. Workmen would also need to replace the rails where Gordon had been, as he had worn deep grooves into them. Naturally, Gordon got some mockery for his antics.

"Hello!" said Duck, as he stopped with some goods. "I heard you went for a spin today. Oh well, not the worst thing ever. Although I assume you know you're supposed to move your train when you go at high speed?"

Gordon looked over and growled at Duck. "Shut up," he said. "It's not funny."

"OK then, let's see how you handle trucks."

Gordon knew he had to find some way to get his own back, but he had no clue how. He would have to wait for his shot to prove himself once more.

Smokescreen

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Gordon was feeling ill. His smokebox was clogged, and he was struggling to breathe properly. "My smokebox feels like it's full of goop!" he said. "Air doesn't seem to be moving through it properly."

"It's this new coal they've supplied us with," Rainbow Dash explained, taking a close look at the lump in her hand. "It's absolutely filthy stuff, this. It breaks apart really easily and produces lots of ash and particles. It also burns completely black, meaning we get little heat, produce lots of sulphur, and get through huge amounts of it in a single run."

"I never took you for an egghead," Scootaloo said jokingly. Oliver had just arrived with a local train at Tidmouth, where Gordon was being checked over.

"I can know stuff!" Rainbow Dash replied. "Basically, you need a good understanding of chemistry to be able to fire an engine efficiently."

"Why not sneeze?" Henry suggested. "I once cleared my tubes by sneezing, and it scared off some rude boys who hurt my passengers. That may work for you as well!"

"Unlike you, I don't have a condensor," Gordon replied. "And I'd prefer not to sneeze. It would make a terrible mess!"

"True," Fluttershy added. "And Sir Toppham Hatt did ask us not to do it again, so it's probably for the best. You may just have to put up with it until the next shipment of coal arrives."

Gordon said little else as he backed down onto the Express. Truth be told, he was worried. "I'm concerned we may slip again!" he said. "That train was very heavy, and I shall be laughed at if I do it again!"

"Chillaxe, Gordon!" Rainbow Dash replied, as they rolled into the coaches. "The train's a lot shorter this time, and the rails are completely dry. I checked them myself!"

"I see," Gordon said, as he was coupled to the train. The North Western was experimenting with running two seven coach trains in 30 minute intervals, rather than one 15 coach train, and seeing if that improved traffic flow. Gordon certainly found the run a lot easier, and as he moved away from the platform towards the Junction, he didn't slip at all. In fact, when he made his first scheduled stop at Knapford Junction, he was actually running early. Gordon moved off once the passengers for Ffarquhar had gotten off, and the train then called at Wellsworth, where Edward was waiting.

"I hope you're not having too much trouble with the coal, Gordon," Edward said. "Be careful on the Hill. There's a fierce crosswind up there, and someone has reported some clothes blowing off their washing line."

"Hang up yer washin' on the Siegfried line an' all that," Applejack said suddenly.

"We used to sing that a fair bit during the War," Edward said.

"Which war?" asked a familiar voice. Edward looked to his left.

"Pickle? What are you doing here?"

"Me and Barley-"

"Barley and I," Gordon corrected.

"Barley and I have come on a visit. You see, Sunny Skies had the brilliant idea of having his and Petunia's honeymoon on Sodor, and they asked us if we'd like to come! Kerfuffle's here too!"

"She's in the mood, I take it?" Edward asked.

"More then that!" Barley added, as she appeared from nowhere, as she was known to do. "She's in the mood, in the groove, indigo!"

"That sounds like a song lyric," Gordon noted.

Meanwhile, Rainbow Dash began building Gordon's fire. "We'll need a lot of steam to get over that hill," she said. "And this coal is less than amazing, to be honest. I'll need to put lots of it in place."

They made a good run over the hill, but when they came down the other side, it happened.

Sunny and Petunia were at Maron station, waiting for a train to take them back to Knapford, where they were staying. Both of them were dressed as normal, in attire that probably could do without a shower of sparks.

"Sodor is beautiful, isn't it?" Sunny smiled, as he soaked up the cool spring sun. "Sun is high in the sky, and there's a nice breeze! Would you agree, Petunia?"

"I would indeed!" Petunia grinned. "As much as I love the Dean Forest, this place has a beauty all of its own."

Suddenly, Gordon shot through, doing at least one hundred down the bank. As he roared through the platform, smoke and ashes poured from his funnel and flew high into the air. As he vanished, the ash cloud settled over the station. Everything was covered in soot and ash.

"Oh dear," Sunny said. "I recently got these cleaned."

Petunia tried to wipe some of the soot off her dress, but that only seemed to make the problem worse. "Well, looks like we'll be washing them again!" she said, ever the optimist.

Sadly, the other passengers lacked her optimism, and went to the office to complain. When Gordon arrived at Vicarstown, the station master there had a telegram from Sir Toppham Hatt.

Passengers at Marron covered in soot STOP.

Not amused STOP.

Please refrain from releasing ash clouds at stations STOP.

Gordon was livid. "How was that smokescreen my fault?" he asked. "It's the coal, I tell you, and I didn't mine that!"

"Never mind," BoCo said, as he came to take Gordon's coaches away. "It's all in the past now, and where would I be if I complained every time somebody calls me smelly?"

"Soot's good for gardening," Filthy Rich added, unhelpfully.

"But not for brightly coloured clothes, it seems," Gordon replied, equally unhelpfully.

Gordon was turned for the return trip, and soon set off. He tried to be extra careful, but problems soon arose when he had to get speed up for the Hill.

Sir Toppham Hatt had travelled to Marron to apologise to the passengers who had been there when the smokescreen had occurred, and had insisted the company pay for the cleaning and replacement of damaged clothing, despite Sunny Skies' own insistence that there was no need to. Just then, Gordon stormed by, blasting yet more ash over them.

"I think I'll need a shower when I get home," Sunny said.

Petunia looked at her formally purple dress, now covered in absurd amounts of soot. "OK, now this will need a dry clean," she said.

There was another note waiting for Gordon at Tidmouth.

Another ash cloud released at Marron STOP.

Sir Toppham Hatt amongst those affected STOP.

Not happy STOP.

Will speak to Gordon when he gets to Tidmouth STOP.

"Oh dear," Gordon said. "I did not blast him on purpose!"

"Surely he knows that, right?" Rainbow Dash asked. She was rather worried about this. After all, Sir Toppham Hatt had a historical habit for blaming engines for things that weren't their fault.

"There's not much I can do, I'm afraid," said the station master. "Good luck."

Fire Escape

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"Sir Toppham Hatt's coming home today!" said James, one morning, as the engines woke up. "They say he was very busy, and that cleaning up the smokescreen was quite challenging."

Gordon was in no hurry to see Sir Toppham Hatt after that incident. He looked down at the ground and sighed. "Oh dear," he said. "I must do well today, or else Sir Toppham Hatt will be cross!"

"I'm certain he'll understand it was an accident," Rainbow Dash replied, as she readied him for work, putting some extra lubricant into the lubricators. "Stuff like this happens all the time!"

"Especially on a steam powered railway," Gordon said, remembering Lightning Dust's story about a mother who got angry at her for the steam engines making noise. "It's like people these days don't seem to understand we are meant to be working engines, not toys in museums!"

"It frustrates me too, but there's not much we can do about it," Rainbow Dash replied. "Now then, let's go and get the coaches. We've got the usual run ahead of us."

Gordon was backed onto the train and simmered in the platform. The last door banged, the guard blew his whistle and waved his green flag- the Wild Nor'Wester was ready to go!

Gordon whistled triumphantly as his driving wheels gripped the rails, and steam shot forth from his cylinder cocks. "Express comi-"

"STOP!"

Rainbow Dash slammed on the brakes and brought the train to a stop. "What's going on?" she asked.

Just then, she saw a passenger dash onto the platform and dive into a compartment. "Late passenger," she fumed. "We'll be late now. I remember when we departed on time, and if you missed the train, well tough luck!"'

"We'll be late now," Gordon sighed. "Oh, the indignity."

Gordon's late departure from Tidmouth had a knock on effect further down the line. The late departure meant that he missed his path through Knapford Junction, where he was held to let a goods train cross the line from the Ffarquhar Branch to the main line, making him later still. Once the signal dropped, Gordon was determined to make up any lost time, and he dug furiously into the rails as he accelerated away.

He thundered through Wellsworth, already up to 60 miles an hour, and soon began the ascent of Gordon's Hill, his cab pitching and rocking and the coaches swaying from side to side. Luckily, there was no bathwater splishing and splashing inside, as there were no sleeper cars on the train. Gordon was halfway up the hill when suddenly there was a loud bang underneath his cab.

Moments later, Gordon felt cold air rushing into his frames, as if there was a gaping hole between his firebox and boiler. "Ouch!" he said. "What's happened?"

Rainbow Dash cranked open the firehole doors and peered inside. There was a giant, gaping hole in the fire, and right at the bottom she could see where the firebars had once been. They had fallen out completely!

"Your firebars are gone!" she shouted. "Part of the fire has fallen out. This is 20% less cool than I'd hoped this run would be!"

"Less fanservice, more driving!" Gordon shouted. He was already feeling weaker. With a large portion of his fire missing, his steam pressure, and thus his speed, continued to drop rapidly. Rainbow Dash had to react quickly, or else the train would stall on the hill. If it did, it would be almost impossible to get moving again. She saw it. She grabbed a massive lump of coal from the tender and dumped it into the gap. This acted as a seal, preventing most of the cold air from getting in. As the fire temperature increased, the pressure gauge slowly crept upwards. She then dropped some smaller lumps around the side to increase the temperature.

"Ready, Gordon?" she shouted.

"Ready for what?" Gordon replied.

Rainbow Dash slammed the firehole door shut, and activated the blower. A jet of air roared across the fire, increasing the temperature to white hot, and she cranked his regulator open to full. "NOW!"

Gordon suddenly sprung into life. He roared like a possessed dragon, steam being blasted high into the air as he continued to fight his way up the hill. His speed began to slowly increase, rising from 25 miles per hour slowly towards 30. He was exhausted, and even worse the exertion was starting to cause him pain. But Gordon refused to give up. "I am not stalling here!" he shouted, and he closed his eyes, thinking it would help. The grade was still fierce. Gordon's exhaust boomed even louder, and soot and ash shot high into the sky as he cleared the summit. With a roar, he was up and over.

"I've done it! I've done it! I've done it!" he called triumphantly. "It's a straight shot to Vicarstown now!"

"Not without those firebars, you're not," Rainbow Dash said sternly. "We need to be routed off to get some more. That means contacting control." She reached for the radio. "Marron Box, this is NWR 4, are you reading me, over?"

"NWR 4, this is Marron Box, please state your message, over?"

"Marron Box, this is NWR 4, locomotive is missing firebars after partial fire collapse. Requesting to be looped at Marron goods loop, over?"

"NWR 4. this is Marron Box, understand that locomotive is missing firebars after partial fire collapse. Request to be looped at Marron goods loop confirmed. Please hold speed at below 25 for loop entry, over?"

"Marron Box, this is NWR 4, understood. Holding speed at below 25 for loop entry, out."

Gordon was stopped in the loop, in readiness for a pilot engine to be coupled to him to take the train onwards. BoCo soon arrived to tow him to Vicarstown, where Sir Toppham Hatt was waiting. He looked very happy indeed.

"Well done Gordon!" he called. "That was a spectacular run, and you got the passengers to safety. You were determined, and refused to give up. And some stellar driving, Rainbow Dash! However, some... ahem, other things still need to ad-"

Just then, a whistle blew, and Sir Toppham Hatt had to rush to his carriage. Whatever he wanted to talk about, it would have to wait until later.

Gordon Proves his Point

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Gordon arrived at Barrow one sunny morning to find the platform busier than usual. Apart from its role as the interchange between Northern Rail and the North Western Railway, Barrow usually wasn't that busy, so to see this many passengers jammed onto the platform was a bit of a surprise.

"What's going on?" Gordon asked, as he looked over. So many people thronged the platform that he couldn't see what was nearby, or what they were looking at.

"That's a railtour," Rainbow Dash replied. "It's here to run the coast route!"

Just then, the station master came over, looking cross. "That diesel they got to pull the railtour has failed!" he said. "Now the passengers have no way of getting back to Carlisle. We'll have to borrow a service train."

Gordon then had an idea. "Couldn't I take them, sir?" he suggested.

"Steam engines can't run on the Cumbrian Coast Line without a diesel escort, as they don't have the required signalling equipment," the station master replied sadly. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but-"

"Gordon has GSM-R fitted," Rainbow Dash interrupted. "I'd be more than happy to help, if it means getting these passengers home."

"Very well," said the station master. "But I'll need to secure clearance with control for you to run, and something will need to cover you whilst you're on your way."

Just then, a very long train rolled into the platform. It had many coaches, and two power cars at each end. Each coach was painted blue with a white stripe along the windows, and the power cars had a similar livery. Blue over most of the body, black roof grilles and ventilation fans, and a yellow cab roof and base. The side read InterCity 225.

"Perfect." The station master grinned. "We'll use the HST!"

Sir Toppham Hatt was delighted when he heard about the HST. "Even better!" he said. "The power cars have Paxman Valenta engines! The enthusiasts will like that for sure!"

The HST's power cars were called Pip and Emma. Phillipa, or Pip for short (not to be confused with the boy at Arlesburgh West who drove Rex) had a faulty cooling system, rendering her hard to operate, especially given the Valenta engine could get extremely hot. Emma was happy to do all the work, but the increased weight severely limited how fast they could operate. The train set off with a roar, the Valenta turbocharger screaming and smoke and clag billowing into the air as the HST moved off.

"Much better than the converted ones they MTUtilated!" said a passenger, with an approving smile. "I never thought I'd hear that again."



A few minutes later, James arrived at Vicarstown to discover the High Speed Train sitting there, stuck. "I wonder what happened here?" he asked.

"I suffered an engine failure," Emma said. "I do apologise for all the bother."

"And we'll need your help too," said the station master. "Can you tow the train to Tidmouth? You'll need to call at every station per your timetable."

Rarity checked her watch. "I daresay that the express passengers won't want to have to stop at all the stations," she said. "After all, they did board the express."

"Better that than the stopping passengers get angry for the train skipping the booked stops," the station master replied. "Good luck!"

"I say, it reminds me of the Flying Banana which visited us a while back!" James said, as he pulled the train along. To his surprise, the coaches were lighter than he was expecting, and the load was no heavier than a typical passenger train (apart from the two heavy power cars, but they weren't too bad).

When the train arrived at Vicarstown, Sir Toppham Hatt arrived to meet them. "Well done James!" he said.

"Sorry we're late!" James said. "We have technical issues along the way!"

"That's alright," Sir Toppham Hatt replied. "It's a lucky thing Pip and Emma are buffer stock, or else towing them would have required a diesel with special couplings, and I don't think the passengers minded the extra stops. Now then, we'll need to store the power cars before they can be taken for repairs, and I still need to arrange a return trip for the passengers."

Gordon returned home the next day after a pair of spectacular runs up and down the Cumbrian and West Coast Mainlines. Initially worried that Sir Toppham Hatt would be angry with him, he was stunned when Sir Toppham Hatt instead forgave him for the smoke incident, as did Sunny and Petunia (as they were the easy going sort). "Besides," he continued, "the ash that went on my hat turned out to be from a broken ashtray. Although smoking is not permitted on my trains, we are still to finish removing the ashtrays from the coaches. Now then," he said suddenly, "The HST you saw at Barrow broke down whilst you were away at Carnforth, and needs a rescue. Give the passengers a spectacular run, and show them how North Western engines do things."

Gordon smiled. "Yes sir," he said, and backed onto the coaches.

Rainbow Dash grinned as she looked out of the cab. "Right, we'll give them a spectacular run alright," she smiled. "The ton's probably a bit much, but let's see if we can get to ninety."

The signal arm dropped. Gordon whistled. "Express coming through!"

The run was, not to put too fine a point on it, incredible. As describing the entire run would be rather beyond my merit, let me leave you with a snapshot of the run. Douglas was sitting at Crovan's Gate, waiting for the express to pass, when a great roaring started up in the distance. "What's that?" he asked Bon-Bon.

"I'm not sure," Bon-Bon replied. "It is a jet aircraft? Is it a bird? Is it a superhero who frequents telephone boxes?"

It was none of those things. It was Gordon. He roared through, producing enough noise to rival Concorde, steam pouring from his chimney and the passengers cheering from the windows as the train sailed through.

"Thank you very much!" Gordon called as he thundered past.

Douglas laughed. "Gordon may be a high speed engine, but I'm the one pulling the high speed train!"

Calling all Engines, Part 1

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Those who know the Island of Sodor will always tell you how the island is at its most beautiful in the summertime. The sun shines, the birds sing, the water sparkles (much to the annoyance of a certain Twilight, tired of all the puns) and there are always plenty of flowers and trees in bloom at the lineside. The engines and their drivers know this well.

Of course, the island is incredibly busy during summer. Lots of holidaymakers, keen on 'staycationing' rather than going abroad, come to the island by train or by boat. Usually, the foreign tourists arrive by ocean liner at Tidmouth Docks, and Brtish tourists often come from the mainland via Barrow. They then join their trains, to see the marvellous sights of Sodor.

A lot of people go to visit the Little Western, not only to see one of the most authentic depictions of a Great Western branch line in existance, but also to visit the seaside. Others travel through the centre of the island, and see the great viaduct. Others still enjoy a trip to the top of Culdee Fell on the rack railway, which is also incredibly popular with hikers.

At the end of the day, the engines retire to the sheds at Tidmouth for a rest. They and their crews catch up on the day's events and cool the engines down for the night. Then they head home or rest, depending on whom you are speaking about, and prepare themselves to do it all again the very next day.

It all began one blisteringly hot morning in July. The morning had started pretty much as normal; the engines had had their fires lit by the depot staff, and one by one the drivers were making their checks.

"It's a busy few days, eh?" said Percy. "I don't know if I'm standing on my dome or on my wheels!"

"You look the right way up to me, Percy!" Pinkie joked.

Rarity whiped some sweat off her brow. "What I honestly do not understand is why it gets so incredibly hot!" she said. "This weather is positively ghastly! When I get home, I usually need a hot shower to cool off!"

"Why would you deal with the heat by making yourself hotter?" Henry asked, confused.

"It's to get some of the grime of the day off," Fluttershy explained. "I don't mean this in an offensive way, but working with steam engines can be quite messy."

Just then, Sir Toppham Hatt arrived. "Good morning, everybody!" he said. "I have some marvellous news for you. In order to ease congestion on the island's ferries, docks, and rail interchange, a new airport is being built on the Island. This will allow visitors to travel to the island more easily than ever before."

Edward glanced over. "Sir," he said, "that is good news. But I have a concern. The people of the Isle of Skye, in Scotland, were rather excited when they got a new bridge to replace a ferry. Unfortunately, this resulted in the island being swamped in tourists, mostly driving camper vans. Will the same happen here? I'd rather not be replaced by a camper van."

Douglas puffed by with a goods train, and set something altogether too rude to repeat here.

Sir Toppham Hatt coughed. "The Sodor Regional Assembly has already thought ahead on that, and banned camper vans. So there's no worry about that."

"We'll get to see lots of planes!" Percy said suddenly.

"And show even more people around the island!" Thomas added.

"When will the new airport be ready, sir?" Twilight asked.

"That's where we come in," smiled Sir Toppham Hatt. "The airport is to be built between Wellsworth and Marron stations, on a special spur that will come off just west of Gordon's Hill. And you will all help move the supplies to build the Sodor Airport Rail Link, or SARL for short."

The engines were quite excited at this, so much so none of them noticed a disembodied choir singing in the background.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W34V8pXbIDY

Once all the singing had stopped, it was time to start moving supplies. The first engines to arrive with supplies were Thomas and Percy. Both of them were moving brick wagons. The airport terminal was to have a brick facade, as the actual frame of the building was to be steel and concrete.

"They've already started construction!" Percy said. "How exciting! I wonder how big the airport will be?"

"I suspect it won't be able to handle international flights," Thomas replied.

"Inter- internaconal?"

"International," Twilight corrected. "It means coming from overseas, or travelling from one country to another. A flight within one country is called an internal flight."

Just then, two unwanted faces turned up. "Hello," said 'Arry. "We're the allocated shunters for the Sodor Airport construction sight. We'll handle the movement of these. You four can budge off."

Twilight looked furious. "How dare you speak to them that way!"

"Or what, dearie?" said Bert. "Going to turn our engines off? Then you'd be in a right pickle!"

"What's Pickle doing here?" Percy asked.

"Not that pickle!" said Thomas, and steamed away. He was cross, and steamed away to the loading yard. He had been assigned to take some wood to the building sight, but was shocked when he saw Diesel there instead!

"Hello Thomas," Diesel oiled. "Whilst you were away, Sir Toppham Hatt asked me to marshal this train of wood. It's all very smart, wouldn't you agree?"

Thomas didn't know that Diesel and his driver, Silver Spoon, had improved themselves since their first time on the island. He thought that they were taking over. So he had an idea. A very bad idea. He rolled behind the last of the trucks that was being loaded with wood, and just as the crane began to lower it into the trucks, he pulled them out of the way and whistled loudly.

Wood fell everywhere, all over the track. "Now he'll be late," Thomas smiled.

Diesel, however, wasn't taking this train. "I'll be moving some bricks a short distance to the yards at Tidmouth, he said. "So no funny business."

Silver Spoon looked out of the cab. "I pity whoever has to clean that mess up," she said. "That's a lot of wood."

Thomas had another idea. He could see the brick trucks over in a siding, and next to them another set of trucks loaded with empty boxes. The two designs looked almost the same when looked at with the casual eye, and so he moved forward and pushed those in behind Diesel. "Here you go!"

"Thank you, Thomas," Diesel said, and went on his way, not hearing the laughter coming from behind.


Gordon was running light engine to the steelworks, as he had been allocated to moving some steel girders to the construction sight. "I must say, I feel so grand doing such an important job," he said.

"I agree!" Rainbow Dash grinned, whooping as the wind whipped through her hair. "We're awesome as we wanna be!"

But when they arrived at the steelworks, they saw a shocking sight. Sitting there, in the sidings, was a familiar orange diesel with a giant grabber.

"Diesel 10's back!" Gordon whispered.

"Who?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"Diesel 10!" Gordon replied. "He tried to destroy Lady!"

Diesel 10's massive grabber effortlessly crushed waste metal and loaded it into the nearby trucks, so Gordon backed away. "Let's wait until he's finished!" he said.

At the end of the day, Henry returned to the sheds after a tiring run. "I am looking forward to a rest," he said, with a smile.

"So am I," Fluttershy yawned. "The heat does make me feel drowsy."

As they approached Tidmouth Sheds, they heard a great hullabaloo start up. "What's going on?" Henry asked, as he came to a stop in the yard.

"They've closed our shed off!" Gordon fumed.

"This is absurd!" James exclaimed. "They're building an extension and never told us!"

"And boxes are useless for building buildings," Diesel told them, who roared away with his trucks.

"Where will we sleep?" asked Edward.

"Well, we could go down to Wellsworth," Applejack suggested.

In the end, most of the engines were reallocated to Vicarstown or Knapford sheds. Thomas ended up next to Murdoch. "I only wanted to teach those diesels to behave," said Thomas sadly. "I never meant-"

"Go to sleep," Murdoch grunted. "I've had a long day and I'm exhausted."

"I'm certain that we can fix everything," Thomas went on. "We'll be back in Tidmouth Sheds tomorrow, and-"

"Go to bed. That's an instruction."


That night, a massive storm tore across the Island of Sodor. Storm Hurricane was the largest on record for over fifty years, and it wreaked devastation across Sodor. It tore down trees, and ripped slates off of roofs. It flattened fences, and damaged telegraph lines. Percy shivered in Knapford shed. "I hope we're safe here!" he said.

"So do I," said Toby. "That wind is something awful."

At Wellsworth station, Edward was suddenly awoken by a loud crash! "Good Heavens!" he exclaimed. "What was that?"

The next morning, Applejack arrived to light his fire and ready his for service. "That storm's caused a fine mess and no mistake," she said. "It were pretty hard gettin' down here. Most of the roads were blocked, and the trains ain't runnin' this early in the day."

"I just hope they can run full stop," Edward replied. "Things are looking dire."

When his fire was ready, Applejack moved him out of the yard. He was facing towards Vicarstown, so they went that way. When they reached the viaduct, Edward gasped. "Look!" he said. "The entire centre span has collapsed!"

And it had. There was a giant gaping hole in the Wellsworth Viaduct- again. Edward was worried. "We're cut off," he said. "No trains can get in or out of here!"

Meanwhile, at Knapford, several of the engines were being prepped for duty. Sir Toppham Hatt looked very worried. "The storm," he said, "has caused thousands of pounds worth of damage to the railway. Trees have fallen onto the lineside, and the Wellsworth Viaduct has partially collapsed. We're cut off from the rest of the Island, and from Britain. We need to get this damaged repaired, and fast."

"We're trapped here, trapped!" said Gordon. "Oh, this is most disgraceful."

"Stop being such a drama queen!" Rarity said.

"That's rich, coming from you," said Henry.

"Will Tidmouth sheds be fixed too?" Percy asked.

"That's rather low priority at the moment," said Sir Toppham Hatt. "Our priorities are getting the mainline rebuilt, and the airport finished."


Naturally, the engines were soon very busy. Thomas was first sent to take workmen to the construction site for the bridge. The sun had risen properly, and it was a nice day, but nobody was in an especially positive mood. When he arrived at the bridge, Diesel was already there with supplies.

"I'm not talking to you," he said. "This mess is your fault."

"How exactly was the storm Thomas' fault?" Twilight asked. "That logic makes no sense."

"Your face makes no sense!" Silver Spoon said suddenly.

"That statement in and out of itself makes no sense," Thomas sighed. "It's not my fault you two can't take a joke."

Scenes akin to this were happening all over the island. Arry and Bert refused to help clear the track, and Henry refused to talk to Derek at the airport construction site. "You ruined our sheds!" Henry said. "We're not talking to you!"

"Steady on!" Derek said. "That's not a kind thing to say."

"Ignore them," Octavia sighed. "They'll get over it, eventually."

The steam engines were not talking to the diesels. And the diesels were not talking to the steam engines, with predictable results. Thomas sped past Diesel 10 as fast as he could, scared of the giant diesel's grabber. Diesel 10, on the other hand, was rather confused by the entire affair.

That night, Thomas tried talking to Murdoch again. He got the exact same result out of it, so gave up in the end.


The next morning, Sir Toppham Hatt had a job for Murdoch. "I need you to collect a train from Tidmouth Docks," he said. "It's a long train of bricks that has arrived from a mainland brickworks, as we cannot access our own- it's on the other side of the bridge. Please be careful, as this train is over 1,000 tons in weight and will take a long time to stop completely."

"On it, sir," Murdoch replied. "Vinyl! Let's go!"

"Let's do this!" Vinyl said, lowering her shades. "I've got just the tune for this job!"

The train of bricks was very long. It ran round both curves at Tidmouth Docks and vanished into the distance. The brake van was so far away Murdoch couldn't even see it! "This will take a while to shift," he said.

Bert rolled past. "Let a diesel take it," he said. "He'll have no trouble."

Murdoch chose to deliberately misunderstand Bert. "Indeed," he said. "I'll have no trouble." He set off with a groan, the trucks jerking into line behind him as the couplings pulled taught. It was hard going, but he got the bricks to the building site without too much trouble.

"Good work!" said the site foreman. "You'll have to wait here a few minutes whilst we unload the trucks, so feel free to have a short rest."

Diesel scowled with jealousy from a nearby track.

Calling all Engines, Part 2

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Later that day, Thomas had to collect some tankers. The water main near Ffarquhar had burst, and water was being conveyed up the valley in giant tanks. Thomas rolled slowly into the yard and stopped. "Well, there are the tankers!" he said. "But they look a bit old."

"I'll ask the foreman to check them, to ensure they're safe to move," Twilight said, and she made preparations to secure Thomas in position.

Neither of them heard Diesel approaching from behind, which is remarkable given how much noise he made. "Look at those silly steam engines," he said. "They're taking our work away from us."

"Let's show them who's best," Silver Spoon laughed. She gunned Diesel's engine, and Diesel shot forward, bumping into Thomas. Thomas rolled through the yard and slammed into the tankers, derailing them. Not only that, the seal on one of the tankers broke, showering Thomas in water.

"Oof!" he said. "I wasn't expecting a wash this early in the day!"

"Oh, you're all wet," said Diesel, mockingly. "Sorry." And he backed away, laughing.

Twilight tried to shake some of the water off, to no avail. "Oh well," she said. "I'll dry off quickly in this heat. Which is a good thing, as walking around in wet clothes is bad for your health."

Thomas' face was grim. "Revenge," he said slowly. "I'll show those diesels who's boss."

So when he next saw 'Arry, he shoved him under the loading chute at the quarry, covering the diesel in dust. "Who's a dirty pile of junk now, huh?"

After 'Arry had been cleaned up, he later found James, and shoved him under the coaling plant chute.

James coughed. "Help! I'm choking!"

"Who's really splendid now, eh?" 'Arry laughed, as he quickly backed away.

Rarity looked aghast. "Just look at me! I'm a mess!"

James was fuming. "Tit for tat," he said. "Tit for tat."

Before long, this tit for tat behaviour had gotten out of control. The steam engines and the diesels were being bashed all over the place; into dirty sidings, underneath leaky pipes, and even through old sheds (Oliver was most cross). The only place where this didn't seem to be happening was the Skarloey Railway, but then again Rusty was the nice sort.

The engines all needed an incredibly thorough wash after the events of the day. James was caked in so much dust his paint was invisible, and Thomas' boiler was horribly messy, as his paint had started to run. That evening, Sir Toppham Hatt came to see the engines. "What on Earth is going on?" he asked.

"Diesel started it!" Thomas protested.

"I don't care who started it," Sir Toppham Hatt replied. "You shouldn't have let it escalate like this, or at all. May I remind you that nothing has been done, and that if we don't finish the airport or repair the bridge there will be no holidaymakers?"

Thomas looked sad. "But that'll mean no visitors, and reduced tourism!"

"And now I'll never get any peace or quiet," said Murdoch quietly.

"Assuming the railway even survives in this state," said Rarity, gloomily.

"Cake, anybody?" Pinkie offered, quite out of tone with the scene that had just passed.

"Not really the best time to suggest such a thing," Rainbow Dash hissed.

That night, the engines worried about what might happen to them if they were no longer useful, and the railway closed. James was up first. He dreamed that he had been sold to a museum and dumped on a siding, as they had no use for an engine like him. The rust collected on his frames and his paintwork was faded, and Rarity was nowhere to be seen.

Gordon's dream was worse. He had been dumped in a playground, and had lots of climbing equipment attached to him, rendering him unable to move. He also lacked his tender, which had been scrapped due to a lack of space in which to exhibit it. The children climbed all over him, swinging and sliding, and even messed about with his cab controls, pretending to be his driver. "I wish I was actually drivable," Gordon grumbled.

Thomas dreamed that he had been dumped in a riverbed, up to his tanks in mud. His boiler and water systems had been dumped deep down, in order to serve as part of a water filtration system. And nobody seemed to care that there was a sentient engine trapped in the mud, unable to move or escape from his horrific fate.

Percy dreamed his fate was to be a ride vehicle on a rollercoaster (nobody knows why, as that would be very unsafe).

But Henry's was the worst of all. To disclose the entirety of it would be impossible, as it was far too graphic to relay in an E rated story. But Fluttershy was quick to figure out the content of the dream when Henry woke up begging anybody in the shed not to scrap him.

Edward, who had been largely unaware of the shenanigans happening on the other side of the viaduct, was having a dream of his own. In it, he had finished climbing Gordon's Hill, and descended the other side. He began to get suspicious as to what was going on when he saw Duck rattle by, and as he came to a stop he saw Derek and Lady pull up.

"Hello Edward!" said Lady. "It's nice to see you again."

"How did you get back to Sodor?" Edward asked. "The bridge is out!"

"We went the long way round," said Sunset. "But we always complete our work when we work together, and I get the impression that's not been happening around here."

Edward then saw in his mind's eye all the chaos that was happening on the other side of the viaduct. He knew, right then, as his dream ended and he awoke, what had to be done. Just as Applejack came to light his fire, a foreman arrived with good news. "The viaduct's been fixed, but we've imposed a strict axle limit over it to be safe," he said. "That means only short trains and lightweight engines at the moment. Sorry for any inconvenience."

Edward noted that. "Applejack, we need to find as many engines as we can, and rally them at the construction site near Tidmouth! I have a plan to sort this mess out, once and for all."

"Ah'm all ears, Eddie."

Soon, Edward was busy telling all the engines he came across about his plan. He was convening a meeting at the Tidmouth construction site, and wanted to ensure as many engines as possible attended. Soon, he had told everybody- except Diesel 10, whom Edward was certain wouldn't want to help, given he'd nearly destroyed Sodor's railways the last time he'd been there.

Before long, the coaling facility was full of engines. Steam engines sat at one end, in a faceoff with the diesels at the other. Well, some diesels.

"I wonder what this is all about?" Derek asked Octavia.

Octavia was making a cup of tea. "I have no clue, Derek, but I can only hope they get on with it."

Gordon huffed. "I don't trust those shunters. Rather devious, I say."

The plant manager was very confused. "Why are all these engines here?" he asked. "And so many diesels as well?"

The engines glanced about. "Where's Edward?" Henry asked. "He's the only one missing, as far as I can see."

"Possibly late," Rarity said. "He can be, sometimes."

"Yet the Old Iron caught you!" Rainbow Dash reminded.

"And pushed you up a hill, no less."

The diesels were getting impatient. "Trust Edward to be late," 'Arry growled. "This whole mess is their fault, anyway."

"That's not true and you know it," BoCo told him. "Try to be civil like some of us."

"Trust the 'Metropolitan elite' to boss us about," Bert grunted.

"You started it!" shouted Percy.

'Arry gunned his engine. "And maybe we should finish it."

Just then, Edward arrived, whistling loudly. "Sorry for the delay," he said. "But there was an obstruction. Shall we start?"

Applejack hopped down from his footplate and started. "Ah'm gonna cut right ta the chase here. Steam engines and diesels have been squabblin' these past few days, and over nothin'. This needs ta stop, 'cause at the end of the day we all need ta work together to save the island! Mah own family knows the hard way that stupid squabbles get ya nowhere, but we need ta end it before it comes ta blows or gets worse."

"What if we don't want to?" Diesel asked.

"Indeed! What if one of those diesels frames a family member again?" James asked.

"The chances of that happening again are low," said Duck. "I think Silver Spoon's learned that lesson."

Edward spoke up. "If we don't work together, then the airport will never open and the repairs will never be made. Passengers and freight are the lifeblood of the railway, and without both of them the railway will close, and we shall be dispersed across the world. I don't think any of us want that to happen."

The engines and their drivers knew Edward was very wise, and that he was right. They all jumped when Sir Toppham Hatt, who had been watching from nearby, spoke up. "Edward and Applejack are right. You all need to work together to get this mess cleaned up. So go to it, and be really useful engines!"

The engines whistled, cheered, and blasted their horns as they moved off.

With all the engines working together, everythin was soon back to normal. The damage was repaired, and the airport and adjoining railway were soon finished. The airport terminal building had yellow brick outer coating, and large, spacious windows to let people see in and out. The airport was very much in keeping with local island architecture, and had a distinct art deco look to it.

The control tower was the same style, and the runway could take medium range aircraft too (no international flights). Indeed, the first flight to Sodor from Heathrow Airport was on its way.

But then there was trouble. Thomas was shunting trucks into the siding on the Sodor Airport Rail Link (SARL), when they hit some bumpy track and derailed. Thomas watched in horror as the lead truck damaged one of the water tower's legs. The tower swayed and shook in the wind, as the other trucks ended up all over the track. The tower fell onto its side and was scattered all across the runway.

Percy, who was passing by, gasped. "The runway and track are blocked!" he said. "The plane's cannot land, and no trains can get through!"

'Arry snorted. "Trust a steam engine to mess everything up," he snorted. "It's nice to know all we did the last few hours was a total waste of time."

"We need George to help fix the runway!" called the airport manager. "But he can't get past this mess, and he's too slow to come by road."

Thomas then had an idea. "He may not be able to clear this mess, but I know an engine who can," he said.

"Thomas, you're not thinking-"

"It's the only solution. The brakedown cranes are elsewhere and busy, so we need to get the help of Diesel 10."

Thomas found Diesel 10 loading fallen logs into trucks. "Excuse me?" he asked.

"What do you want?" Diesel 10 snapped.

Twilight took up the story. "The line at the airport is blocked, and you're the only engine who can clear the mess!"

Diesel 10 sat silent. "Nice sob story, but why should I help you, given what happened last time?"

"If there are no passengers, the railway will close and we'll all suffer, you included. Can you help us, please?" Thomas asked.

Diesel 10 was silent again. "Alright, I'll help," he said finally. His Maybach engine roared into life as he moved off. "Let's get this mess cleared up."

Safe to say, everybody was astonished when they saw Thomas and Diesel 10 arriving together. Diesel 10's grabber made short work of the mess, and Thomas shifted the damaged trucks away. The other engines were so amazed at how hard the pair were working that they decided to help out too, moving the damaged and loaded trucks away from the crash site. Before long, the mess was cleared, and Thomas sped off to grab George and bring him back again. George did a stellar job getting the runway ready for use.

Then Harold arrived, and he brought Sir Toppham Hatt. "Well done, all of you," Sir Toppham Hatt said. "You have completed everything on time, and the aeroplane will be landing shortly."

As they looked on, the aeroplane landed, and taxied over to the airport terminal. All the engines were very happy. They knew that, despite their differences, working together and being really useful was what really mattered.

Credits

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bA911bXQsKs

CAST-IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE

Keith Whickam-Gordon, Henry, Sir Toppham Hatt, the Inspector, The parking vulture, York Control, Edward, Bertie, Skarloey, Quarry Control, Mr Percival, Stan, Harold, BoCo, Deltic, Bert, Dowager Hatt
Robert Rackstraw-James, Toby, Iron Duke, male passengers, Bala Lake Railway head office, Ivo Hugh, Douglas, Bradford
John Hasler-Thomas, Nelson, Rheneas, Barry, Frank, Mr Fergus Duncan
Tara Strong-Twilight Sparkle, Richard, boy who gets scared, Twilight Velvet
Nigel Pilkington-Percy, Trevor
Andrea Libman-Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy
Vincent Tong-Flash Sentry, Sandbar, Rumble
Michael Dobson-Bulk Biceps, Class 450, Dr Caballeron
Kelly Metzger-Spitfire, Petunia Petals
Rufus Jones-Flying Scotsman, Fenchurch
Britt Irvin-Lightning Dust
Matt Hill-Soarin', Arthur
Tim Whitnall-Boxhill, Stepney, Bear, Mike
Kathleen Barr-The Mother, Victoria, Trixie
Bill Newton-City of Truro, Albert, Bright Mac, Snap Shutter
Steven Waddington-Bahamas
John Cleese-Churchward
Teresa Gallagher-Emily
Kelly Sheridan-Misty Fly
Tabitha St. Germain-Fleur de Lis, Rarity, Bon-Bon
Chantal Strand-Spoiled Rich, Diamond Tiara
Michael Palin-Silver Link
Michael Caine-Randolph
Michelle Creber-High Winds, Apple Bloom
Trevor Devall-Fancy Pants
Derek Jacobi-Green Arrow
Jim Miller-Big Jim
Nicola Stapleton-Rosie
Julie McNicol-Herself
Brian Drummond-Filthy Rich
Claire Corlett-Sweetie Belle
Ashleigh Ball-Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Lyra
Jonathan Broadbent-Bill and Ben
Brynna Drummond-Babs Seed
Laura Drummond-Sunflower Seed
Colin McFarlane-Bulgy
Marykke Hendrykse-Gilda
Joe Mills-Oliver, Donald
Madeleine Peters-Scootaloo
Steven Kynman-Duck, Peter Sam
Cathy Weseluck-Spike
Lauren Jackson-Silverstream
Devyn Dalton-Ocellus
Tom Stourton-Duncan, Terence, Rex
Shannon Chan-Kent-Smoulder, Silver Spoon
Matt Wilkinson-Rusty
Aneirin Hughes-Duke
Katrina Salisbury-Yona
Nicole Oliver-Cheerilee
Brian Dobson-Sky Beak
Cole Howard-Terramar
Advah Soudack-Ocean Flow
Gavin Langelo-Gallus
Michael Legge-Luke
Malwyn Pope-Holy War
Tracy Ann Oberman-Daisy
Ellen Ray-Hennessey-Mistmane
Elysia Rotaru-Sable Spirit
James MacAvoy-Murdoch
Jessie Nowack-Vinyl Scratch
Peter New-Big Mac
Patton Oswalt-Quibble Pants
Felicia Day-Pear Butter
William Shatner-Grand Pear
Rosamund Pike-Duchess of Sutherland
Britt McKillip-Cadence
Prince Charles-himself
Sarah Edmonson-Windy Whistles
Emily Tennant-Mane Allgood
Meredith Salenger-Clear Sky
Liev Shreiber-Storm King
Jan Rabson-Wind Rider
Jason Deline-Bow Hothoof
Colin MacFarlane-Dr. Gelato
Ian Hanlin-Sunny Skies
Rhona Rhees-Torque Wrench
David Kaye-Pickle Barrel
Sabrina Pitre-Barley Barrel
Tom Hollander-Wilbert
Racquel Belmont-Kerfuffle
Miles Jupp-Warrior
Alexandra Carter-Twist
Veena Sood-Mrs Hoofington
Terry Klassen-Moody Root
Alice Oswalt-Wind Sprint
Anna Chloem-Octavia
Kerry Shale-Derek, 'Arry, Diesel
Richard Ian Cox-Featherweight
Graham Verchere-Pipsqueak
Billy Conolly-Jock
Blake Swift-Button Mash
Matt Wilkinson-Cranky
Rachel Bloom-Autumn Blaze
William Hope-Bert
Britt Allcroft-Lady
Tim Curry-Diesel 10

Dean Forest staff

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Sunny Skies-General Manager
Petunia Petals-Head of Archives
Kerfuffle-Head of Catering
The Barrel Twins-Junior members of the Society
Torque Wrench-Chief engineer