Chapter 53:

On the southeast corner of the Island of Sodor there is the city of Crovan's Gate. It was named that after the great king of Sodor, Godred Crovan, held the enemy advance at a narrow passageway in the area while defending the island from invaders. Today, it is an important station on North Western Railway as it intersects the Mainline and the Skarloey Railway, allowing passengers to transfer between the bigger and smaller railways easily.

For this reason, the Steamworks had been built on the south side of the tracks, allowing engines from both lines to be repaired there. The work yard was built with special tracks that were wide enough for standard-gauge engines, with a third, smaller rail in between that was sized for narrow-gauge engines. The web of tracks interconnected four main work sheds, with two lines each. A pair of turntables sat at the front that allowed access to each line.

The resident engine of the Steamworks is a narrow-gauge engine, with scarlet paint and yellow stripes adorning his body. Victor, the doctor engine, has years of experience watching engines be repaired, and knows what is needed to assist the workmen. He shunts trucks of materials and tools from the storage shed, and shunts the bigger, broken engines when they need help.

Today, he was just starting to wake up, his fire being gently stoked by Jim Hugh, the firelighter, when he was awoken by a loud series of laughs and whistles nearing the Steamworks. He slowly rolled out of the shed where he slept and looked around the area. The first thing he remembered was that Peter Sam was there too, sleeping still. They were repairing his funnel officially now, but that was a long story. Victor then rolled out to the turntables to see what the commotion was.

Stopped at Crovan's Gate were a pair of engines, one who was enjoying himself and one who definitely wasn't. Douglas, the jet-black scot who was half a set of twins, and Thomas, the stubborn blue tank engine who's blue was looking quite gritty, though Victor wasn't able to make out why.

"Hello?" He called, drawing their attention. He noticed Thomas' driver was struggling with the switch, apparently trying to set the points towards the Steamworks. "Is something the matter?"

"Bet'cha royal arse it is!" Douglas shouted, still guffawing. "Yon tank engine tried ta droive his'self today!"

"Oh shut up Douglas!" Thomas snapped. "It was all going fine till I skidded."

"Skidded roight in'ta a house!" Douglas was overcome with laughter once again, but Victor didn't see what was so funny about the situation.

"Well, bring him in!" Victor said, as Douglas slowly pulled Thomas onto the line. "Quickly now!"

Victor rolled backwards and set to work. Douglas got Thomas situated in a shed and promptly left, giggling all the way, but poor Thomas still seemed upset, glowering as Douglas rolled back down the line. "So Thomas, would you like to tell me what happened?"

"No. No I would not." Thomas stubbornly replied. "It was a silly accident that wasn't even my fault."

Victor rolled his eyes and looked over at the head workman, Alfred, who was awaiting his orders. "Thomas will be fine for the time being, but get some men to start cleaning him off. I'll pull Peter Sam forward and we can finish with him."

Victor did as he said he would, and tugged the little engine into the sunlight. Peter Sam stirred and opened his eyes. "Wha- what's happening?" He mumbled.

"Don't worry mi friend, we'll be done with repairs very soon." Victor told him.

"What happened to him?" Thomas asked, with more concern than anger.

"Oh just a silly accident, it wasn't even his fault." Victor smirked.

Thomas huffed and looked away, watching as workmen began pulling bits of debris and food from his boiler. "What is this, eggs?" One of them mumbled.

"Yeah, the children threw it at me." Thomas replied. "I'm just glad the curtain rod fell off on the way out."

Victor chuckled and pulled up to Thomas now. "Well, I'm afraid your buffers are badly damaged, and your funnel will need some pounding out. Not to mention the bad cut on your cheek."

"I was wondering why my face hurt…" Thomas muttered.

"It may take a few days. Buffers are not easy to repair." Victor told him. "I haven't got the parts for it either."

"Talk to me about not having the right parts." Peter Sam grumbled.

Victor rolled away to another shed, looking over the trucks, leaving Thomas and Peter Sam somewhat awkwardly waiting. They looked around for a moment, attempting to ignore each other, but Thomas was too social for that. "So, can I ask what happened to you? Why are you here?"

"Only if I can ask you the same thing after." Peter Sam said. "Deal?" Thomas muttered something, but acknowledged it.

"You see, a few months back, I was in a bit of an accident, some trucks hit me quite hard, and I was in the works for a week before I could even wake up. But even after I was repaired, my funnel was loose for a while."

"My funnel feels funny, all wobbly." Peter Sam complained.

"You keep mentioning that!" Skarloey replied, faking amusement. "How about I kiss it better?"

"Oh please, I just think Victor should take another look at it."

"I think you should shut your face and get out of my way." Duncan growled, sliding past Peter Sam with a passenger train.

"Ignore him." Skarloey said, looking at Peter Sam's distraught face. "You could ask to see Victor later, after you take that train up to Skarloey Road."

So Peter Sam did, taking an easy passenger train up the Culdee Fells to the mountain town at the end of the line. It was wintertime, so snow and ice covered the mountainside and crept across the tracks. Peter Sam was making good time, the snow couldn't stop him, but the wind started picking up as he reached higher and higher elevations.

He shivered. A chill wind seemed to be blowing into his boiler, and he was sure it was coming from his boiler. "Driver, my funnel's wobbly again, and it's making me cold."

"Nonsense." His driver shook his head. "It's just chilly up in the mountains, naught to do with yer' funnel!" Peter Sam continued on anyways, still frigid but paying little attention.

He neared Rheneas Tunnel, a short tunnel that cut through a cliff in the Culdee Fells, and found himself pushing for more speed. He wanted out of the cold, as soon as possible. He went into the tunnel at high speeds, without a thought about what could be on the other end. Then,

"Look out!" Peter Sam called, braking as he reached the other end of the tunnel. But he was going too fast. There was a loud CLUNK and Peter Sam felt something tumble beside his wheels. He screeched to a halt and his driver stepped off to see what was the matter. Peter Sam felt very cold now. "What happened!?"

His driver snickered. "Your funnel's gone!"

Peter Sam gasped. "I told you it was loose! I told you something was wrong!"

His driver walked around the side of the train. "Looks like we hit an icicle on the way out, and it took your funnel clean off!"

"Oh that won't do." Said Jeremiah Jobling.

"Hang on, Jobling was there too?" Thomas asked.

"Oh yes." Peter Sam replied. "Did I forget to mention he was on the train?"

"Yes you happened to neglect that detail." Thomas sighed. "But do go on."

Inspector Jobling and the driver stepped away to discuss what to do. Meanwhile Peter Sam sat shivering in the cold mountain air and waiting for their decision. "Well?" He asked as his driver finally returned to him. "What are we to do about this?"

"Inspector come up with somethin'." He replied. "You'll see."

Peter Sam waited for a few minutes as his driver shoveled coal to keep his fire burning. Jobling was nowhere to be seen, as he had continued to walk up the tracks. When he returned, he had a section of a thick drainpipe in his hands, and was pulling his coat tighter around him. "What's that supposed to be?" Peter Sam demanded

"It's your new funnel." Jobling sighed. "Best we've got right now."

"Where'd you ever find that?" The driver asked.

"A ways up the line, they've laid pipes to drain runoff in a better way." Jobling replied. "I took a bit of the extra is all."

"I'm not using that!" Peter Sam exclaimed.

"Alright alright, I get the picture." Thomas interrupted. "So you've been using a drainpipe for- what is that, four months now?"

Peter Sam nodded with disgust. "Bloody thing is nothing but a mockery." He said. "But enough about me- how on earth did you crash into a house?" Thomas groaned and looked away. "Oh c'mon, I told you my story, it's your turn!"

Thomas sighed, and twitched as his cheek twanged with pain. "I tried to drive by myself." He admitted quickly.

"Thomas, are you an idiot?" Victor shouted, zooming over beside them. "What were you thinking?"

"Not very far!" Thomas defended. "I just wanted to take a loop by myself. This isn't the first time I've done it!"

"That makes it even worse!" Peter Sam exclaimed. "You're a regular rule-breaker, aren't you!?"

"Godred, you sound like a policeman." Thomas sighed. "Look at Victor! He runs 'round the works without a driver! Or Mavis up in Anopha Quarry, she rarely takes a driver!"

"These are confined spaces Thomas." Victor replied. "There's no need for a driver because there are so many workmen around to make sure things work!"

"But we do it all the time!" Thomas continued defensively. "The big engines go from the station to the shed often if their drivers are tired! Edward ran from Knapford to Kellsthorpe Road without a driver the night that Henry crashed the Kipper!"

"But both of those cases have an excuse!" Victor scolded. "What were you doing, going on without supervision or even letting someone know that you were doing it! How long has this been happening?"

Thomas sighed.

Early each morning, Jim Hugh comes to the Ffarquhar sheds and lights each of the engine's fires, then quickly leaves to continue his work. Most mornings, Thomas, Percy and Toby would either return to sleep once till their driver would come or sit and talk as they waited.

As Jim left the sheds and began to close the shed door, Thomas spoke up. "Can you leave mine open Jim?" he asked. "I like the morning air."

The young man had no reason to suspect, so he left the door open behind him. Thomas waited till he could no longer hear Jim's car and then made his move.

On each sentient engine, there are two brakes and two steam feeders. One of each, the engine has control of, the other, the driver. If one brake is locked, the other steam feeder cannot open, thus keeping the engine stopped. So if the engine refuses to move (such as Henry in a tunnel) or if the driver wants to keep the engine in place, the other cannot steam up the engine. The same goes for the feed, if one is open, the brakes will not completely stop the engine. Most often, the drivers trust the engines to stop and go as they need to, and leave the driver controls untouched. However, if the engine is struggling to brake or keep moving, the driver would generally help them out with their own controls. All of this means Thomas had nothing to stop him from heading out that morning.

He slowly pulled himself out of the shed, hesitant in case anyone was watching. Percy and Toby slept soundly behind him, and there wasn't a car or person in sight. So Thomas started out.

As he said, it wasn't a long drive. He mostly just moved about the yard, taunting the less-mobile trucks and enjoying his own freedom. And he was alway back long before the drivers made it to the sheds.

"Alright, so you had a bit of fun every morning." Peter Sam sighed. "But what happened today?!"

Thomas sighed. "I told you already. I hit an ice patch and slid into the buffers, and then the fence, and then the wall of the house."

Victor sighed. "Which likely could have been avoided if you had a driver on board."

"It would have been avoided if he wasn't doing it in the first place!" Peter Sam exclaimed. "Godred, I had an honest accident- yours is entirely your fault!"

"Indeed it is!" Boomed another voice from above the three engines. Sir Topham Hatt had appeared, standing above them on a workmans walkway. Thomas gulped, but Victor smiled. "Peter Sam, the part you've been waiting for has arrived, and you'll be back on the job in no time!"

"Oh thank you sir!" Peter Sam smiled.

The Fat Controller stepped down from his perch and stood beside the bigger engine. "Thomas, you've put me in a difficult position." He said sternly. "I've paid for the damage you caused to the stationmaster's house- thank Godred the Norramby family loves the railway or it would have been a lawsuit!"

"Yes sir." Thomas muttered.

"Victor, how long until this idiot is back on the line- under his driver's control?"

"I'm afraid I don't know." Victor replied. "The damage is more complicated than I expected. It could take several weeks at worst."

Topham growled and looked back up at Thomas. "I shall have to find a replacement for your branchline. Percy and Toby won't be able to handle the workload for that long."

Thomas's face was bright red, and he clearly looked ashamed of his actions. "I'm sorry sir."

"Apology accepted." Hatt nodded. "I hope you've learned your lesson!" The short man turned and left the works with a sense of finality, and Thomas only looked at the ground in embarrassment.

"Well Peter Sam, let's get you fixed up and on your way!" Victor smiled, and backed away from the pair of engines. "I hear Duncan's making a mess of the line!"

"Oh honestly." Peter Sam sighed.

Thomas was left alone with his thoughts for a moment. It occurred to him, who was Topham going to get to replace him? Surely not one of the other engines? Everyone was well set in their own work and constantly busy, so none of them would have time to take his jobs too?

[]

Sir Topham Hatt sat in his office that night, talking on the telephone with the salesman. "Yes I know this is a bit short notice, but I need her as soon as possible." He said, his frustration building. "I can pay a bit extra! But I need her on the line in the next week, or sooner!"

Travis the butler stood in the doorway. He'd been there now for 15 minutes, waiting patiently for the Fat Controller to finish his call. Though he was used to waiting on Hatt now, he was beginning to grow agitated, listening to the one-sided argument.

"Blast it, you've made this very difficult for me!" Topham shouted. "Fine! Just see that it gets done!" He slammed the telephone down and puffed on a cigar. "Bloody traffickers, that's what they are." He mumbled.

"Excuse me sir?" Travis spoke up.

"Travis! Yes! What do you need?" Travis stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Hatt sat up a little straighter, knowing this was something important. "What news do you bring?"

"I have information that suggests a Battleship modified class Diesel has asked permission to visit our railway."

"Fat chance." Topham scoffed, standing up and looking out the window. "I've just purchased one diesel and, given how things went last time, I should not likely do it again."

"That's the thing Sir." Travis continued. "This particular Diesel resides in Barrow, along with our very own Blackbird." Topham's eyes narrowed. "It is believed that they are working together for some reason."

"Working together?" Topham asked. "And we don't know why?"

"Not at all."

Topham nodded slowly and sat back down at his desk. "This lines up, badly." He sighed. "Where is this information coming from?"

"'Friends of the Angel', so the letter says." Travis held up a piece of paper, the letter in question.

"Good." Hatt said. "Fine, thank you Travis."

"Shall I tell Lady Hatt you'll be late?"

"No, I won't be very late." Hatt said. "I've just got to make one more phone call and that's all."

Travis nodded and left the room. Topham sighed and looked up at a torn painting on the wall, the one that showed Alan, Eagle, Gordon, Henry, Edward and Candle. "Friends of the Angel." He repeated quietly.

[]

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(Hello, dear readers.

Yes, it's been far longer than I wanted. Again, I made no promise for the next time I'd write. But, finally got around to it, had some ideas pop up and I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Yes, I'm setting up bigger things. Some you might see coming, others, not so much ;)

-HunterCreeper712.

(Ps, It should be a much shorter wait for the next chapter lol.)