17 - Great Western Trouble

Truro had not seen Flying Scotsman since that fateful day at Barry where he had stumbled up the famous express engine in the Scrapyard, terrified and alone.

From what he had heard, Mallard had been so severely punished that they had declared him to be put into preservation and took his freedom saying that he would never steam again.

The miscreant had been found out to have done a similar thing with some other engines which had resulted in an engine, slated to be preserved, ending up scrapped.

The name of the engine had been withheld but no matter. The outcry from the engines had been so fierce that the directors had had no choice but to take Mallard's freedom from him.

Truro, despite not seeing Scotsman as a friend, found himself worrying for his friend as his owner had gone bankrupt and the famous express engine had been stuck in America under threat of being scrapped.

"So City of Truro, what do you think? You once saved him from scrap. Is the Flying Scotsman worth spending the money to come back to England?" A man named Sir Alpine had asked the Great Western.

"Without a doubt sir," Truro answered honestly. "I may not like the engine but he is an important part of the history of the United Kingdom Railway's sir. Please consider bringing him home."

"Interesting," the man said. "I asked a few of the other engines and they told me you would say no. Leave him to rust."

"Sir! Please do not listen to the heresy of such engines!" Truro huffed offended. "They do not speak for me! And if they said such things then they certainly do not know me as well as they think they do!"

The man seemed satisfied and left with a mysterious smile.

A couple of months later, Truro was delighted to learn that the Scotsman was returning home.

"I don't see how you of all engines are eager to see the overrated engine again sir," 2516, the Dean Goods engine scoffed, eyeing the excited engine curiously. "Last time I saw the both of you, Scotsman threatened to derail you and have you turned into iron girders."

"Times change 2516," Truro mused. "And life is too short to have grudges."

"Suppose so," 2516 grunted. The smaller engine went to return to napping beside the bigger famous Great Western as he anticipated seeing the LNER's most famous son.

He wondered, just why he was so eager to see the engine. They weren't friends and they certainly had no love for one another.

Maybe he was just happy that the Scotsman had been saved from scrap once again.

"Pathetic…" the voice hissed near his smokebox and Truro flinched and immediately pushed it away as it suddenly felt like cutters torches being dragged along his boiler.

Truro grit his teeth and ignored the pain. If he gave in, the Black Smoke would take him, it would smother him and rip his soul from his engine.

He had to remain strong. The first sign of weakness and Mallard would crush him. Break him into nothing.

"You've been struggling for days now dearest Truro," Mallard's voice whispered uncomfortably close. "Just let go, be at peace, let yourself rest."

"No," Truro hissed through the pain and the rising fear. "I refuse."

He forcibly pushed Mallard's consciousness away from him and the A4 snarled and hissed, the black smoke spitting and churning around his mind like a flock of hungry vultures waiting to strike.

Truro's soul reached out and clung to the memories that made him who he was, made him stronger.

The Flying Scotsman appeared before him, the top of his boiler and cab ruined and damaged from the wind, rain and sun. He looked completely exhausted from his trip to America but he was alive and he was intact.

"Flying Scotsman," Truro had greeted the weary engine. "You look quite terrible I'm afraid."

"I had to get here under my own steam," the A3 complained, his voice flat and completely worn out. "I would have rather they taken me here on a lorry and covered me in a tarp. Everyone saw me like this, it's undignified."

"Still, the point still stands, you are back and you are in one piece," Truro pointed out. "I would consider that a grand win."

The Scotsman looked at Truro surprised.

"You sound like you care about me, Great Western," he remarked and Truro smiled.

"That's because I do," Truro declared brightly. "Believe it or not, I've come to respect you."

Scotsman raised one of his eyebrows at him.

"Why though? We've hated each other for so long and now you think we're suddenly best friends because you pulled my tenders out of a scrapyard?"

"Oh don't be so vulgar," Truro scoffed. "And if I remember correctly, you had no big fat tenders at that moment."

"First of all, thanks for noticing," Scotsman retorted. "Second of all, my tenders are not 'fat'."

"They do make you a great deal heavier to shunt," Truro pointed out and the Scotsman looked offended. "I wonder why you didn't take one off during the Great Race. You would have had a lot more speed."

"I'm a big engine! I need a lot of coal and water!" He argued and Truro just smiled. "You wouldn't believe the lack of coal and water in America! I was lucky to even make it to some places with two tenders! And besides, they are a mark of my distinction from other engines!"

"Well, dear Scotsman, despite your distinction, you are quite 'small' compared to those across the pond," Truro pointed out and Scotsman's cheeks turned red in embarrassment.

"Yes, well," Scotsman coughed embarrassedly. "They need to be bigger see, it's a different environment. The distance between stations is greater."

"Of course, of course," Truro said not buying into Scotsman's explanation. "So will you be giving the second tender up now that you don't need it?"

"Ha! If you think you have a chance of getting it, think again!" The Scotsman laughed. "I'm not giving it up and even if I was you certainly couldn't handle such a big tender! You're a great deal smaller than me Great Western and I only let big engines couple with my tenders."

"Well, now that just sounds like a challenge to me," Truro smirked. "And I feel the need to remind you that my name is Truro."

The Flying Scotsman gave a snort of mirth.

"Alright, Truro," he said mockingly but Truro just smiled, not hearing any maliciousness in his tone as he had once done.

"Tenders aside, I am genuinely glad to see you back on home soil," Truro pleasantly insisted. "You are one of our iconic engines. And I mean that. It is good to have you back."

Flying Scotsman paused. He was about to be snarky but then saw the genuine look of relief and appreciation in Truro's eyes.

"Thank you, City of Truro," the A3 said. "I appreciate your words of kindness. It's been a very long journey."

"So it has," Truro agreed.

The Scotsman moved off to the workshop leaving Truro to watch him go.

After the A3 disappeared he glanced over at 2516 who was staring, slack-jawed and bewildered. Clearly, he had seen the entire conversation.

"What in the name of Mr Collett was that?!" He asked, completely shocked.

"I was welcoming Flying Scotsman home, nothing more," Truro assured the little engine. "We may be rivals but that doesn't mean I have to be unpleasant."

"Sure sir, sure you were," 2516 said and Truro glared at him annoyed. "Welcoming him home indeed sir."

2516 promptly shut his mouth very quickly after he saw Truro's face turn murderous.

"I won't say a word, sir," the little engine squeaked.

"Good," Truro's voice came sounding threatening and nasty. "Spreading rumours is not the Great Western Way is it now?"

"No sir."

"This won't work," Scotsman implored Lady as they left the ticket booth at Vicarstown. "Ms Olivia will find out soon enough. She'll notice that one of her cards is missing."

"Then we have to be quick," Lady smiled. She handed the Scotsman the ticket to Ulfstead Castle. "This is for Connor's train."

He noticed there was only one ticket.

"You aren't coming to Ulfstead Castle with me?" He asked and Lady shook her head.

"I am required elsewhere," she smiled and the Scotsman began to panic.

"I thought you said that you needed my help to fight Mallard!" The Scotsman said annoyed before pausing and he began glaring at her. "I'm bait. You're using me as bait."

Lady nodded, her golden eyes filled with mirth.

"What about North? Why can't you use him?"

Lady shrugged and smiled, infuriating the Scotsman.

"I came here to rescue Truro!" He fumed. "Not be a part of your games, Lady!"

"You can leave anytime," Lady motioned to the train back to York. "You have your own free will."

The Scotsman glared at her. He couldn't leave Truro, she knew that he wouldn't go even if forced.

"What the hell am I supposed to do when I get there?" Scotsman snapped angrily.

"You'll know," Lady smiled and Scotsman grew even more infuriated.

He was about to start yelling when Lady embraced him suddenly, her hug firm and warm.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I have to be so deceptive," she said mournfully. "But if I tell you what needs to happen, it won't happen."

Scotsman just stood there silently, unable to react.

"I'm not asking you to trust me, Flying Scotsman," Lady explained pulling away from him. "I'm asking you to trust yourself. You'll know what to do, I have complete faith in you."

"That makes one of us," Scotsman said bitterly. He looked at his feet as Conner's whistle sounded in the distance.

Lady reached up and cradled his face in her hand.

"You are compassionate, clever and loyal," she assured him. "There are people and engines on the other side of the world who love and cherish you. Never forget that. No matter what anyone says or does."

"It doesn't always feel like it," Scotsman mumbled as a gush of wind whooshed them as Conner glided into the platform. "I don't even know why Truro pulled me out of that scrapyard sometimes."

"You are the people's engine, not Mallard. Even Truro saw that while detesting you," Lady said with a firm grip on his shoulder. "I think if you ask him, Truro did respect you greatly despite you constantly antagonising each other in the beginning. You'll find a way to each other, I'm sure."

The Scotsman gave a shaky sigh before nodding at the Lady before him. She was pretty, like her engine, all scarlet with golden jewellery, she almost looked like royalty and she gave off a golden glow.

"Alright," Scotsman said shakily. "For Truro."

Lady smiled at him and nodded. He stared at her apprehensively before turning heel and boarding Conner's train without another word or a glance back at Lady.

Mallard watched the struggling City of Truro with impatience.

It had been over two weeks, no other engine he had attacked and drained of Gold Dust had barely lasted over a few days let alone a week.

The older ones like the Rocket or the Stirling Single had put up a fierce fight but at the end of the day, he had crushed them into submission and drained them dry and severed their souls from their now dead shells.

The humans were easier to control, their nervous systems made for perfect conduits for the black smoke to use and control like puppets.

He didn't quite understand it even now, after almost decades of honing and figuring out how their small wet soft bodies functioned. However now he could direct them to engineer him to steam almost perfectly.

It was quite delightful, having a puppet to be precise and to drive him exactly as he wished. He shouldn't have had to resort to this but once Cain had been exposed it wouldn't take long for the woman, Olivia Gresley or Henry Stainer to quickly figure him out.

Taking Green Arrow's voice had been a mistake. As soon as that weak-willed driver of his had revealed his name to authorities, he now had to act quickly and in desperation. He didn't even care if he drained the Golden Well dry, he needed to restore his soul.

However, the Well at the castle had been sealed shut and those who had access to it were far beyond his reach.

He hadn't anticipated Truro being so powerful but it would at least sustain him until he could get Flying Scotsman, Sir Gresley's most successful experiment with Gold Dust.

He looked over and saw the mountain engine, Godred, whimpering, two of his puppets standing over him as the stupid thing wailed quietly.

He did consider taking its gold dust too if Truro finally fell, but there was nothing of value. It appeared that its soul had also been corrupted by black smoke, something which Mallard was not wanting.

It still had gold dust, but it was tainted.

The fastest steam engine in the world did not settle for anything less than the purest of gold dust directly from the source.

A shame that it the purest of the stuff dwelled within the weakest and most overhyped engine in the Gresley fleet.

Flying Scotsman.

The damn engine simply refused to die. At every turn, almost every single time Scotsman got close to being scrapped and his soul there for the taking, fate somehow intervened and saved the stupid engine.

Mallard glanced over at Truro with a scowl on his face.

"This would have ended long ago if you hadn't just kept to your own Great Western business," the engine hissed.

He stuck out at Truro's consciousness violently and found himself in another of the little engine's memories.

The black smoke around him hungered and stretched itself out to search for the gold dust. It found the weak and battered soul of Truro, barely clinging desperately to its engine, the memories the only thing keeping it anchored.

Mallard frowned and hissed steam as he once again saw Scotsman in the memory.

It was undignified. Going after and consorting with an engine from the Great Western Railway. Gresley's did not mingle with such filth.

The black smoke struck out at Truro again, the canister in his cab churning violently. It tried to grab at Truro's soul but what was left of the engine's gold dust swarmed to defend it, shielding the soul in a brilliant bubble of light that burnt away and seared at the Black Smoke attacking it.

Mallard snarled in shock at the sudden flash of light. He was tired of this endless cold, this emptiness the black smoke drowned him in. Even when his firebox had been lit after literal decades, it had down nothing to warm him.

Perhaps that was why he sought out so many engines. Their struggles, their brief attempts to struggle against him as he drained their gold dust, warmed him and made him feel alive again.

Curse Thompson and his attempts to kill him. His ridiculous attempts to tarnish his designer's name one last time. To render Mallard soulless and unable to achieve his record ever again.

What better way to destroy Gresley's legacy than by putting restraints on his most prized and recognised engines?

First Great Northern and now the man had turned his sights towards Mallard. Gresley's finest and most powerful steam engine.

Mallard growled to himself at the thought of Great Northern, the puppets flinching, their tiny human minds registering that he was angered.

Great Northern had refused him. He had rejected him.

That had probably hurt more than Thompson taking his soul. The thought of the Grand Great Northern labelling him as just another one of those 'ugly toasters'.

Mallard sat there fuming for a long while, his hatred stirring for the long-dead A3 Pacific.

Even when he had proved himself, North had insulted him, had dismissed him, his focus always on his older cousin.

It infuriated him.

His attention was drawn away from his spiralling thoughts and to the doors of the exhibition space opening and three large Great Western Engines rolling forward to meet him.

He gazed at them shocked before a smirk played across his face. He drew the Black Smoke within himself to hide its presence, like a snake, waiting to strike. Two of the engines were glaring at him, the other was staring at Truro and looked terrified.

An easy target to strike.

"My, my, my I must have caused quite a stir now," Mallard smirked viscously. "What did Lady Olivia do to convince the Didcot Railway's finest to come to this dump of an island?"

"Lady Olivia did not ask us here," King Edward the First boomed in a commanding voice. "That Peppercorn did."

"Blue Peter?" Mallard questioned feigning ignorance.

The Blue King Edward glared at him, "You know exactly who sent for us, Mallard."

Mallard chuckled. "Quite. I wasn't expecting this from her. Last time I met the girl she was a simpering and quivering coward of an engine."

"She was brand new," Pendennis Castle scolded. "You can't expect a new engine to be as confident as an established one."

Mallard gazed at Pendennis Castle curiously. The engine's attention was caught between Truro and Mallard and he seemed to be holding in his panic.

The engine wasn't as well composed as his City counterpart or the Twin Engines that stood beside him.

"Indeed," Mallard agreed. "I'd say that you're lacking a lot of confidence right now, Pendennis."

"We're not here for small talk Mallard," The Second snapped angrily at the Blue A4. "Release City of Truro this instant or there will be consequences!"

"You can have him back certainly," Mallard flashed a charming grin at the blue engine. "After I've drained his Gold Dust and not before."

"No!" Pendennis snapped back angrily. "We won't let you destroy our precious Truro! You will have every single Great Western Engine after you for taking out our leader!"

Mallard just laughed at that.

"Oh I wouldn't say every Great Western," he retorted before looking at the First Twin with narrowed eyes. "I suspect that there are those who would like to see Truro gone."

The Second frowned and glared at Mallard.

"Enough with these deceptions and lies!" He snapped angrily. "You dare speak ill of Great Western Loyalty!"

"Ha! Great Western loyalty!" Mallard scoffed. "Then pray tell, Blue, why did it take so long for you to organise this little rescue mission? No doubt, Lady Gresley would have warned and tried to rally Great Westerns to rescue Truro the second I took him hostage. Why move against me now? Two weeks later? Was someone perhaps hopefully waiting for him to die before then?"

"Well would have moved the second we knew!" The Blue King Edward shouted at Mallard angrily. "Stop this nonsense and release Truro!"

Mallard looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before glancing at the green King Edward.

"You don't look so sure, Green," he observed and the First frowned at Mallard.

"The politics of our railway do not concern you, Gresley," he finally said after a brief pause. "Release Truro this instant."

"Certainly, it does not concern me," Mallard mused. "But if Truro was to die, I guess one of you would get to replace him. One might want to withhold that information if one had it."

"What do you-" The second suddenly went stiff and he glanced over at his brother.

The tension in the room suddenly became electrifying as the Second narrowed his eyes into a glare at his brother.

"Why did Director Stainer come to Didcot a week ago brother?" He suddenly asked him, his voice deadly quiet and low.

The Green King class frowned at his brother. "That doesn't concern the situation at hand-"

"You knew!" The Second suddenly snarled at his Green brother. "You knew that Mallard had Truro and it took Tornado telling the rest of us to finally force your hand!"

A vicious smirk spread across Mallard's face as the twins suddenly began to turn on each other.

"Truro has not been part of the Great Western Railway for a long time!" King Edward I suddenly shouted angrily. "He has no right to be our ambassador to the public ever since the LNER bought him!"

"Truro is Great Western no matter his owner!" The Second argued angrily. "The Great Western Railway no longer exists! By that logic, none of us is Great Western!"

"He allowed himself to be swayed by that fat waste of an engine Flying Scotsman! It is disgusting the way that those two interact! How dare he claim to uphold the Great Western Way when he consorts with that filth! He disgraces the memory of the Great Western Railway!"

"Stop it!" Pendennis shrieked. "Stop this! This is getting us nowhere!"

Pendennis suddenly pressed forward towards Truro who sat in front of him and touched buffers, coupling to him and beginning to try and pull him free.

"Pendennis don't!" The second suddenly shouted as Truro's wheels creaked and strained, the clamps on them refusing to budge.

Within seconds, Mallard unfurled the Black smoke within him and it swarmed the Castle class engine who immediately tried to back away from the attacking smoke however, his coupling to Truro held him firm.

"Pendennis!" King Edward II shouted but he was on a separate track and couldn't help the now panicking engine as the black smoke made its way into his funnel and boiler tubes, racing to his firebox and searching out for his soul.

"Help me!" Pendennis shrieked in complete terror. "Blue help me! It's destroying me! Stop it! STOP IT!"

Immediately King Edward II steamed forward and barged into Mallard who only laughed at him.

"Release Pendennis immediately!" He demanded furiously.

"No, I don't think I will," Mallard hissed back. "He's not as strong as Truro but he'll do for a nice snack."

"I'm warning you-" King Edward II snarled, ready to forcibly derail Mallard if he had to.

He was cut off however as the piercing and shrieking sound of metal being torn suddenly echoed through the exhibition hall making all of the engines flinch at the sound.

They looked over and found Pendennis suddenly being pushed back by the City of Truro who was moving with no crew, no steam. Gold Dust hovered around him in a faint cloud and his barely open eyes gazed at Pendennis kindly.

Pendennis stared at Truro before him in complete and utter shock.

"Truro? How-" There was the sound of heavy chunks of metal and the spokes of Truro's wheels being bent and warped as he strained against the clamps on his wheels.

"Truro stop! You're going to damage yourself!" Pendennis shouted. "You shouldn't move without your crew! Truro!"

"It's okay…" came Truro's weak and frail voice. "Go. Leave."

"Truro!" Pendennis begged but suddenly he felt himself being backwards as someone coupled to his tender and pulled him out of the exhibition centre, the Black Smoke darting out of his boiler, letting go of his soul and swarming over Truro like a cloud of hungry locusts, devouring the Gold Dust around him.

Both King Edwards quickly followed in a state of panic, the sounds of confusion and yelling all around them as they evacuated the exhibition hall.

Pendennis rounded on Green Arrow who had been the one to pull him out.

"You stupid idiot! We were so close!" Pendennis yelled at him but the V2 engine looked unconvinced.

"You almost died!" Green Arrow shot back. "Truro just gave himself up for your stupidity! You weren't meant to pull him out! What were you doing? You were supposed to stick to Tornado's plan!"

"Well, the Twins were supposed to convince Mallard to make a deal," Tornado argued. Her gaze turned to King Edward I who looked indignant and furious. "But I wasn't expecting Green to want Truro dead."

"You're a monster!" Blue spat angrily at his brother. "How could you!? Truro is our ambassador! Our Leader! Why would you betray him like this? Are you that stuck up your own smokebox!"

Green snorted angrily and hissed steam at his brother. "Unlike you all, I am not blinded by the celebrity status of that reprehensible engine!" He shouted back.

Before Blue could argue back Sir Robert stepped in.

"That's enough!" He yelled, silencing both engines. "The both of you are dismissed! You will leave the castle and your crews will separate you!"

"Yes sir," the twins said in unison before leaving without a single word or even a glance at each other.

Sir Robert and Henry Stainer turned to the remaining engines.

"Sirs I must go back!" Pendennis pleaded. "There still might be time to save Truro! His soul was still intact!"

Henry Stainer surveyed the engine. Despite his brief encounter with the Black Smoke, Pendennis was clearly shaken and frightened. His wheels were trembling and his face was deathly pale.

"No Pendennis, you're in no state to perform. You should go and find a shed to rest in," Stainer said and Pendennis looked ready to argue.

"But sir-"

"I will not have any arguments, go," Stainer ordered pointing at the castle gates.

"Ye- yes sir," Pendennis said reluctantly. Before he left he looked up at Tornado regretfully.

"I'm sorry I failed you, Tornado," he apologised but Tornado gave him a small smile.

"It's okay Pendennis," Tornado assured him. "You did your best."

Pendennis tried to smile back at her but failed miserably and quickly left without another word, leaving Green Arrow, Tornado and 5025 sitting outside the museum and a dark cloud of despair hanging over them.

"If this doesn't work, Truro will die," 5025 said grimly. "We're relying on Green Arrow of all engines to pull this off. The one who went to pieces when he thought Scotsman was possessed by a ghost."

Green Arrow scowled at the Black 5.

"I know now it wasn't a ghost," he stated firmly. "At the time I didn't know what Gold Dust was. I was scared, alright."

5025 rolled his eyes. "You're still a slimy coward even if you pull this off."

"Stop harassing Arrow!" Tornado snapped. "This isn't the time to bring up past grievances!"

"Quite right," Sir Robert agreed. "We don't know how far along Truro is or even if his soul is still fused to his engine. For all we know, Truro could be gone already."

"We have to at least try," Green Arrow insisted but Tornado looked worried.

"Are you sure?" She asked concerned. "You saw how shaken Pendennis was and he's not easily frightened at all."

Green Arrow's face showed a look of fierce determination.

"I'm willing to try anything for a friend, Tornado," Green Arrow said confidently. "You more than anyone should know that."

Tornado blushed red deeply and gave Arrow an embarrassed look.

"Yes, yes you are," she acknowledged.

"Well then," Sir Robert said looking pensive. "Are we ready to try Tornado's second plan?"

"Yes sir."

"Well then Arrow, release your breaks and let Tornado winch you into position," Sir Robert ordered.

"Yes sir!" Arrow said, releasing his breaks and allowing himself to roll forward into the exhibition hall. "Wait! Stop! Stop!" He suddenly yelled.

Arrow gave a sharp jolt as Tornado stopped the winch abruptly.

"What is it?!" She asked confused.

"There's someone on the tracks before me!"

Sir Robert and Henry Stainer stared at each other before running to look. The figure staring down Green Arrow looked away from the V2 engine before gazing at the Earl and the Chairman.

"Great Northern?!"

"Explain to me how you lost two of my engines?" Roman Gresley growled as he glared at his daughter.

Olivia steeled herself and held firm against her father's disapproving gaze.

"First of all, they are not your engines they are Grandfather's," she retorted angrily. "And two, you do not own them, the museum owns Scotsman and the Society keeps North's remaining pieces."

"Don't talk back to me child," Roman growled and Olivia flinched.

"I am not a child," Olivia snapped back angrily. "You have no hold over me. Especially when you were a disgraceful father who did nothing but abuse me!"

"I am your father! You will do as I say!" Roman shouted angrily.

"I'm not your servant or slave!" Olivia shouted back. "You're just a worthless playboy who only married into our family for the money! Our mother deserved so much better than a fat, useless waste of space like you!"

"How dare you!" Roman stood from his desk immediately, hand raised to strike Olivia who flinched but held firm.

Olivia grabbed his arm and twisted it until it hurt him causing Roman to yell in pain.

"Release me at once!" He yelled but Olivia refused.

"I've had years of driving engines and dealing with nasty men like you," Olivia snapped angrily. "Yet I always came on top and taught pathetic little man-children like you a lesson. Now, you tell me where my engines are or I'll let Gordon know to release all those juicy details of your underground dealing to the police!"

"You wouldn't dare sell your own father out for a pile of metal!" Roman shouted.

"Considering a pile of metal showed me more love and compassion than you ever did in your pathetic life, I think I would!" Olivia hissed in his ear. "Now where did Scotsman go!?"

"I don't know!" Roman grunted angrily. "He and some lady just managed to convince one of the servants to drive them to York!"

"Some lady?" Olivia creased her brow in confusion. She released Roman and he whimpered pathetically before falling back in his chair.

"Stupid girl," Roman spat at her. Olivia simply wiped it off her waistcoat and looked down at him.

"Yet this stupid girl became one of the most respected engineers in the United Kingdom while you don't make a cent of my work," Olivia mocked him. "You just sat on your ass your whole life while people showered you with money."

"You're a peasant," Roman said angrily. "You and the rest of that working-class scum."

"Yes well, you better hope that you can work, because very soon you won't have the fortune to wipe your ass on," Olivia smirked. "Goodbye father, if I never see you again it'll be too soon."

With that, Olivia turned her heel and left. She did however pause before the door and turned back to him.

"You're not invited to mine and Oscar's wedding by the way. But I doubt it matters since you'll be in jail very soon," she said with a wide grin. "Tell the police investigators Gordon sends your way hello from me!"

With that, she left and shut the door carefully behind her, the sounds of sudden rustling and panic echoing through the other side of the door.

She found Oscar waiting for her in the corridor looking worried.

"What's the matter?" She asked.

"I went through your purse to check if anything was missing, I found it pulled out of the cupboard and on the floor of our bedroom," he said deeply concerned.

"It was?" Olivia asked confused.

"Yes, one of your credit cards is missing," Oscar said. "You should check your account just in case."

Olivia pursed her lips as they hurried down the corridor.

Even though she hadn't checked, she had a good idea of who and what had happened to her card.

"Get Sir Nigel Gresley and Gordon ready for the rails and tell the railway controllers to leave a path free!" she ordered some servants. "I feel like we're about to make a very fast trip across the country."

When Scotsman disembarked from Connor's train and onto the Ulfstead Station he was extremely surprised to find Pendennis Castle sitting at the platform with a small green Great Western Saddle Tank.

"Pendennis?" He asked approaching his friend but he was ignored.

As he got closer he realised that Pendennis looked frightened and terrified beyond belief.

"Pendennis what's wrong?!" He rushed towards the scared engine with deep concern.

"Oi clear off will ya!" The Green Saddle tank shouted at him. "Can't you see he ain't in the mood for you damn tourists and your damn photos!"

Scotsman ignored the saddle tank and went right up to Pendennis and climbed a top of his running boards.

"Pendennis?" He asked as he stared concerned at his face. Pendennis finally acknowledged him and glance at him. Pendennis suddenly stiffened as he looked at Scotsman's human form.

"Do I know you?" Pendennis asked confused. "Why are you familiar?"

"It's me, Flying Scotsman," Scotsman explained. "What's going on? Why are you here? Where's Truro?!"

To hell with keeping the gold dust and this form a secret. There were things far greater at stake right now.

Pendennis seemed wary of Scotsman's words.

"Truro's up at the castle in the new museum, Mallard has him," Pendennis said shakily. "Mallard attacked me, I don't- I tried to free Truro but he-"

Scotsman nodded in understanding.

"Attacked you how?" Scotsman asked. "The Black Smoke?"

"Yes, yes it was… horrible, it was like, I can't-" Pendennis mumbled before shutting his eyes and winching. "It was- It was just a wave of pure anger, hatred and- and- loneliness. I can't explain it. It was like it was trying to get my soul to join it but in the worst way possible. It was just awful. But then suddenly, Truro was there, he was helping me and drawing it away."

Scotsman stared at Pendennis Castle as a realisation suddenly came over him as Pendennis looked saddened and frightened.

"I tried to save him, Scott," Pendennis said weakly. "I couldn't- The Twins got in the way, Green he- I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Scotsman assured Pendennis with a gentle touch to his smoke box. "Everything will be okay, I promise old friend."

Pendennis seemed to calm down and quieten down at Scotsman's words.

The green saddle tank just watched on confused and bewildered at Pendennis's sudden change in behaviour.

"What in the hell did you just do to him?" He asked concerned. "Who the hell are you?!"

Scotsman ignored him and stared up at the Museum in the distance.

"I'm the Flying Scotsman and I am ending this," Scotsman declared and made his way up to the museum leaving a very confused Trojan to stare at him.

"These fucking Gresley's and their bullshit," Trojan muttered angrily to himself. "I swear to Collet."

Tornado's really trying, you know, everyone else needs to get their shit together.

~For updates, extra lore or to ask questions or discuss the fic, you can find me on tumblr at tornadoyoungiron or on twitter as BakunawaArt.