(Hello readers! First things first, Thank you to tweetsie12 for the review! I'd like to acknowledge: You say that the dates of my story don't quite line up.

I'm aware of this. I actually spent a little while before I began publishing looking over the Railway Series, Tv Show, Sodor: Its History and Peoples (Or whatever it's called, my bad), real history, and other fanfiction trying to come up with a date, and I finally decided on 1962 being the entrance of our favorite blue tank engine. There's a lot of reasoning that I currently won't disclose for spoilers, (I have planned the Railway Series and up to 'Big World Big Adventures!' and Season 23 :D ) and I'll try to make things clear as I go along. But for now, just be satisfied with the reason being that the NWR begins expanding due to the Beeching Cuts, which began in '62.

Hope you all keep enjoying, because today, my favorite little Great Westerner joins the NWR!

-HC712)

Chapter 25:

Duck tooted his whistle as he came across the Viaduct-by-Wellsworth, his driver and new controller aboard, both half-asleep and ready to reach Tidmouth. He took in his surroundings, looking down the line as he passed every siding and branchline. It was early morning, the sun only a glint of orange on the horizon. He smiled as a robin passed over his boiler, and took in the ocean breeze as he reached Knapford, which was near the seaside. He stopped as he let off Sir Topham Hatt, and then they rolled onward to Tidmouth sheds.

Elaine stopped him at the edge of the turntable and disembarked, heading off in hopes of finding a nice tavern. She didn't call goodbye, so Duck simply turned to his new coworkers.

"What a brightly-colored group!" He laughed to himself, looking them over. He knew their names already, Sir Topham Hatt having boasted for some time the previous day. In the westernmost shed was Thomas, number 1 and sleep-whistling quietly. Duck recalled another E2 tank engine he'd known, a funny little character named Timothy.

In the next shed there was Percival. Duck had met this silly Caterpillar engine a few years back on the GWR, and it appeared the little engine had been rebuilt yet again since he'd last seen him.

Then came Edward, an aged and kind face sleeping peacefully, but Duck could see he was the kind of engine to be picked on for his age.

Next was the 'big blue brute', as Hatt had described him, Gordon. The engine seemed to be sleeping discontentedly, his dignified face scrunched up angrily.

Then there was James, who also seemed to be sleeping angrily. Duck could tell that James was the sort of boastful engine. Any engine with that color of paint was very noticeable, and probably loved the attention.

And last, in the eastmost shed was Henry. Henry seemed worried as he slept, and flinched ever so slightly everytime Thomas whistled.

"This ought to be quite the railway to work on." Duck whispered to himself. "Engines from LBSC, LNER, GWR, ...looks like Mr. Hatt doesn't care where his engines come from, does he?"

A putt-putt from a car engine was heard along the road, and Duck looked over to see a crimson bus running up beside the yard. Surprisingly, the bus turned off the road and came near the sheds. "Hullo!" He quietly and cheerily called. "I assume you're the new tank engine?"

"My name is Montague, but you can call me Duck." Duck replied. "What's a bus doing so far from the road?"

"Thomas asked me to come check up on them tonight." The bus replied. "He's a good friend, and Edward over there keeps getting picked on, and I'm just supposed to make sure it's all alright over here." Duck looked back at the sheds, realizing he was right about the old engine, he did get picked on. "M'name's Bertie, by the way. I run all over the island along with me brothers."

"Good to meet you Bertie." Duck replied. "Tell me, is there often fights? Do they pick on each other much?"

"Well…" Bertie thought for a second, looking over the engines. "See, there was a big fight just a few months back, left them all divided. Most have made up by now, but they can certainly get on each other's nerves… and my nerves."

"Nerves? What nerves? We're made of metal, not flesh!" Duck laughed, causing Bertie a stupor of thought. "Sorry, didn't mean to muck up your thoughts, tell me more!"

"Oh!" Bertie shook his face. "Well, I believe you're meant to be the new shunter, right? Percy over there was the shunter, but Gordon and especially James have been picking on him recently, I'd watch out for them. Then Edward, like I said, is picked on for being the oldest engine …but there's not much. The line runs smooth and passengers rarely complain."

"Are there any other engines?" Duck asked. "Hatt mentioned Toby and a Marklin engine as well."

"Toby sleeps in a lean-to on the Ffarquhar branch line." Bertie replied. "The Marklin engine isn't welcome here anymore, as it isn't sentient."

Duck pondered this, and looked back to the engines before him. He'd worked with more lifeless engines than sentient ones, this line was sure to be a change in pace if they didn't welcome such engines.

"I've got to kip off to the bus depot, I'll see you around Duck!" Bertie called, now pulling away and back past the yard.

[]

A few hours later, Duck woke up slowly. A different car was there, and the young man who owned it appeared to be waking the engines up; A firelighter, Duck assumed.

"Well well well. Another tank engine!" Gordon laughed, awake and looking at Duck.

"Be nice Gordon." Edward scolded, then looked over at Duck. "Sorry about him, he's a bit of a git!"

"You be nice too Edward!" the firelighter laughed. "You all are so angsty in the morning! Why do I have to be the one to hear your load of garbage?"

"Because you're the one who wakes us up." Thomas replied.

Duck laughed, enjoying the fireworks. "My my! I've never met such engines as you!" Duck looked across the sheds, and discovered that, although Percy had been the second engine for the firelighter to wake, the caterpillar engine was still asleep. "Percival! Time to wake up!" Duck called in a sing-songy voice.

"-mm?-" Percy stirred, opening his eyes slightly and yawning. "...oh, g'mornin' Montague." Percy closed his eyes again, then jolted awake! "MONTAGUE!?" He shouted in shock.

"Hello Percival!" Duck laughed. "Glad to see you never change, seeing as I still have to wake you up!"

"What on earth are you doing here?" Percy demanded. "You're a-

"-A Great Western Engine!" Duck finished Percy's sentence. "Indeed I am, and you'll never take my heritage from me! But alas, the GWR no longer had need of me, so your Mr. Hatt came and bought me off!"

"That's SIR Topham Hatt to you!" James snapped unfairly. "What was it, Montague?"

"Well, that's my given name," Duck began, "But sometimes I waddle, so friends call me Duck!"

Henry and Gordon laughed at this, somewhat rudely, but Thomas and Percy blew their whistles sharply, ceasing their laughter. "That's alright Duck!" Thomas said, looking back at Montague, "We call Percival 'Percy' here!"

"Good morning all!" Came the voice of a tram with a coach puffing along the East Side-line. "So! This is what Hatt called me for?"

"M'name's Duck!" Duck laughed. "I, knowing what Sir Hatt told me, you must be Toby, and Henrietta!"

"My! What a gentlengine!" Henrietta giggled.

"Yes, what a gentlengine…." Gordon quietly repeated, like the Grinch plotting a scheme.

[]

Later that day, Duck and Percy were scooting about the yard, the young Caterpillar engine showing the new engine the in's and out's of the NWR's rolling stock.

"Now those over there- those are the branch line coaches." Percy indicated the tan-colored coaches in the northeast corner of Knapford Yard. "Those are for James and Edward- NEVER confuse them with the Express coaches because if James is pulling the Express coaches there will be blood."

"Blood?" Duck questioned, halting for a second.

"James hurt the lead one last year when they got in a bit of a fight." Percy explained. "Any time he gets close to those coaches now, there's a fight. That's why the express leaves from Platform 1 and James always leaves from platforms 4, 5 or 6."

"Oh my." Elaine whispered from inside Duck. "Quite the railway of stories!"

"You want stories?" Neil O'Heart asked. "I'll tell you about the time Bob Hardy got drunk!"

"You want stories?!" Shouted a silly and gruff voice from among the cars.

"Godred Crovan, here we go again." Percy cursed quietly. "SCRuffey."

"Backing Signals!" jeered a salt van on one side.

"Run himself right into a coal pit!" a tanker added.

"Glad the Welsh Coal came in handy… TO CUSHION YOUR FALL!" Fred Pelhay roared.

"Shut up!" Duck snapped, with a voice of shocking clarity and power. "What's this? Percival makes a mistake and you lot won't let it go? Shut up! Knowing trucks as I do, you've probably caused a great deal more accidents than this little engine ever could, so Shut it!"

The trucks fell silent, looking at each other in shock. "Well!" Percy whispered

A deep whistle sounded from the platform, reminding the tank engine's that Gordon was waiting on the Express. "Shall I get the coaches or will you?" Duck asked.

"Uh, y-you can get them if-if-if you'd like." Percy stuttered, somewhat shocked. Duck nodded (as much as he could) and rolled past the Branch line coaches and picked up the Wild Nor Wester, then rolled out of the yard.

"...ah blow 'im." SCRuffey growled quietly. Percy snickered and followed his old friend out to the station.

Duck had already lined up the Express as Percy made it out, and the GWR engine was sitting on the farthest platform, out of the way of the other trains, asleep.

"Goodness, he fell asleep faster than you Gordon!" Percy chuckled.

"Yes." Gordon slowly agreed. "...he's quite an engine."

"A good engine!" One coach called.

"He's very gentle!" The back one agreed.

"Well as it is said in my homeland," Duck began, revealing himself. "There are two ways of doing things: The Great Western way, or the wrong way!"

"What about the North Western way?" Gordon jeered. "You think everything you do is right, simply because you are a Great Western Engine?"

"Do you think everything you do is important just because you're a bigger engine who pulls the express?" Percy retorted.

Gordon responded only with a toot from his whistle and puffed speedily away. "Does he often act this rude, boss you around like that?" Duck asked as Gordon left.

"Yes, James too and sometimes Henry." Percy replied.

"I see." Duck replied, thoughtfully. "I think I should talk to Toby, when does he come in?"

"He should be here for a Passenger train in about a half-hour." Percy replied. "Why?"

[]

A 32 minutes later, by Duck's count, Toby pulled into Knapford station. "Hullo Montague!" Toby called. "Or do you really prefer Duck?"

"Either is fine, shall I call you Tobias?" Duck replied.

"Alright. You call me Toby, I'll call you Duck." Toby replied with a laugh. "So, word on the trucks is that you need my brain?"

"But do you have a brain? Or are we all made of metal?" Duck prodded. Toby smiled wittily. "Look, I need some way of getting a few big problems off of poor Percy's bunker."

"Gordon, James and maybe even Henry?" Toby replied wisely.

"Exactly." Duck replied. "What's something a pair of Great Western Engines can do to annoy the big prats? What makes these engines tick? What can we break or block?"

Toby looked around for a moment. Their drivers, Crovan Aldrich and Elaine Peters, had stepped away, and the other engines weren't around. "The big engines like to sleep, I suppose if you prevented them from sleeping you could get their attention." He finally replied.

"...who sleeps in Tidmouth Sheds?" Duck asked.

"Those three, Percy, Thomas, and I suppose you do now as well!" Toby replied. "Edward usually sleeps at Wellsworth now, I sleep at Ffarquhar… Except I suppose Thomas may be sleeping at Ffarquhar now that my sheds have been expanded."

"Excellent. And when will the big prats be at the sheds tonight?" Duck asked with finality.

"I don't know everything Duck." Toby retorted. "But you can check with your driver, he- SHE'd know the schedule!"

Duck nodded. "Thank you Toby, you're a very useful engine!" Duck then trundled back into the yard, leaving Toby quite confused and curious.