June 1, 1997.
Diesel Ten rolled off the boat, setting wheel on Sodor for the first time. "Ah, Dominic!" a younger, still in possession of his hair, Sir Bertram Topham Hatt greeted him.
"It's Diesel Ten now, sir," the diesel replied.
"Oh, I see." An awkward silence. "I hope you enjoy your stay. ...And you know, you aren't alone in your grief. My father Sir Charles passed away very recently, and I...I don't know what I'm going to do now now that I don't have his guidance anymore."
Diesel Ten grunted. "With all due respect, Sir, I don't think you fully understand it. I just lost my wife." And he left huffily.
A long time later, it was May 19, 2022. Gordon had been brought to life the day before in 1922, not long after Great Northern had been completed. But this day was a different event's date: the 1997 death of Mesa Roja D9, ex-Muffle Mountain No. 11, ex-Denver & Rio Grande Western #5924 EMD GP9 Cressida at the hands of a fallen tree and a bigoted woman. It was an official day of mourning, and fittingly, the sky was gray and dull.
In her secret hiding place, Crana sighed sadly, the ghosts of many Lifers drifting around her, one in particular lingering around longer. Crana looked into the sky and sang softly and sadly.
Built to see if a train could grow more strong,
Meant to go out there and prove them all wrong,
Dominic, the Electro-Motive Forty-two and a Half,
Set off for life on a quite lonely path.
June 6, 1997
"I don't want to get on his bad side," Dodge grimaced. "The locomotives in America are big enough to eat the likes of us for lunch."
"Talking to him is the right thing to do," Splatter replied. They'd made the brave move to approach him. "Say, Diesel Ten, was it? You seem quite sad. I think I know what'll cheer you right up!"
"What?" Diesel Ten groaned.
"A nice coat of paint of your own choosing!"
Diesel Ten looked at his light blue paint. The painful memories it held. "You got anything in gold?" he asked.
Billy sighed as he shunted some trucks under a loader, feeling quite out of it. The trucks were too sad to play any tricks.
Built to be useful, like everyone else,
But denied a chance due to how he moved himself,
Dominic, the youngest engine of his fleet,
Knew that much better was what he would need.
July 26, 2000
In his shed, Diesel Ten sobbed, nursing his injuries from when Nigel derailed him. "I wasn't allowed to come...and that engine from your old railway doesn't like me...Cressie, I-I, I failed you."
Thomas, Rosie, and Emily looked at each other, uncertain.
Injured by humans so cruel and unkind,
But then he met a most similar mind:
Dominic met Cressida, the tender GP9;
By her love, his life would grow to be defined.
September 6, 2005.
Diesel Ten sulked as he cleared a line of fallen tree bits. "Uh, excuse me?" he heard a timid voice say. Thomas pulled up next to him. Ugh, not HIM again. Doesn't he have a branchline he should be on or some junk?
"What is it, puffball?" Diesel Ten growled.
"Uh, well, because of a bunch of silly things that I don't have time to explain, we need you to help clear the airport of a fallen water tower!"
"And why should I help you? You're the one responsible for half of those quote-unquote silly things from what 'Arry and Bert have told me."
"Because we're all gonna suffer if we can't have the holidaymakers land! Plus you'll be really useful."
Diesel Ten sighed. Cressida would've wanted him to extend the olive branch (or in this case, London sycamore). "Alright, I'll come. But I'm NOT doing this for you. I'm doing this for the railway."
Forced into uniform unlike those fueled by coal,
Spreading equality soon became his goal.
Dominic succeeded in hiding the paint,
An action that made his old managers faint.
James sighed. He promised himself that, though he wasn't sure if he could not be cocky or boastful anymore, he would never complain about goods work ever again. Because he was lucky that he was even alive at all.
Earning her love despite difference in age,
Domissida quickly became all the rage.
Dominic, the husband, whip-smart and bold,
Thought his love would last till he was old.
August 8, 2011
The doors of the Dieselworks slammed open. Diesel Ten dragged a groaning Sidney in on a flatbed. "Whoa, uh, er," Den stammered.
"What 'e's tryin' ta say is, what happened to Sidney?" Dart asked in shock.
"Braked too hard going down Gordon's Hill, all six wheels went flat," was the explanation. "C'mon Sid, let's get you fixed."
"That'll take forever," Bert groaned. "Fatt Hatt never listens to us. You asked him to get us a new crane last March and one still hasn't come!"
"These things take time," Dart replied.
"They shouldn't take this long," Diesel Ten scoffed. "Seriously, who does he think he is? He welcomes all of us, saves us from scrapping, and this is how we're supposed to stay in working order? It's like he doesn't care. It's always those bloody steamers. Especially Thomas."
"Oi, Ten! There's another steamie on the island!" Diesel yelled as he entered. "She's a royal blue BR Standard Class 4 that Thomas is suddenly infatuated with! I swear, when was the last time we had a new diesel?"
"Me!" said new diesel replied as Paxton followed his older brother.
"Always steamers, never diesels...wait, I've got it!" Diesel Ten grinned. "If we hold Thomas hostage, and get Percy who's no doubt jealous of Thomas' short attention span to help us take over the Steamworks without him knowing, we can make Hatt listen!" He trundled off, chuckling darkly. "You're a mean one, Diesel Ten..."
But when the Dieselworks burned down two weeks later, Diesel Ten realized something. "I've become the monster I tried so hard not to be," he gasped, before sobbing. "Oh, Cressida, what have I done?!"
Edward, BoCo, Tim, Marion, and the China Clay Twins huddled together. "Is anything bad going to happen to us, Edward?" Bill asked shyly.
"Not if I can help it," Edward replied.
But then...
His world was destroyed.
His lover was vanquished.
Intolerance and hatred ended Cressida's life.
In Peel Godred, the flag of Sodor was raised half-mast, and the electric engines lowered their pantographs in respect.
Dominic the widower, broken and sad,
Driven away because they said he was bad.
Reg watched as a crude effigy he'd made of Cressida out of an old metal file drawer, trash can lids, and some mangled chicken wire entered the scrapyard's furnace. It burned.
His soul was burned,
His psyche torn,
Dominic became no more.
No longer did he want to be anyone's friend.
Now he was the monster known as Diesel Ten.
The Skarloey railway looked at Duke, who sadly remembered when he'd found out that Bertram, his brother, had seemingly passed on.
The monster he never wanted to be.
The Culdee Fell railway looked at Godred, who had actually survived his famous accident, but was so thoroughly traumatized he had never spoken again.
The monster of a thousand rabid enemies.
Gordon pulled his express sadly. He knew what the shock of losing loved ones felt like better than anyone else.
Diesel Ten, the villain of the story of the year,
Exactly what people had wanted to hear.
Henry looked at the tunnel he'd hidden in when he was fresh from his crash, afraid of everything.
But it doesn't have to end, not this way.
His story continues to this day.
Toby and Henrietta looked at each other knowingly. "I don't think I've ever gotten a chance to say this, but...I love you," Toby said.
"Me too," Henrietta replied. "Me too."
Go and search your feelings, Nick, you know that it's true.
You have helped us, now we will help you.
Let's change your ending, give you a fresh start,
So we can repair the cracks in your heart!
That night, the sky cleared. Lady and Diesel Ten, no, Nick, looked at Hercules together. Then at each other. They cried again, as one.
You've been battered and bruised, teased and abused.
But now it's time to show you how we treasure you.
You are Dominic, the North Western Railway's greatest engine!
Lady fell asleep. Nick looked at her and realized something about her. He blushed.
And you will find love...
Again.
End of Act Two.