Nick sighed. He was on the Mainland for a fuel run and was anxious to return home. But the signal was taking a long time to change, far longer than usual. "I swear, nationalization may be over, but they STILL managed to bug up everything."

"You don't know the half of it, kid." Nick had figured he had company, he'd heard the clack of their wheels, but when he looked to his left he was in for a shock. The source of the baritone female voice was an actual BR 42, painted black with purple accents. She had an air of gruffness and cynicism around her, not helped by the state of her face. Her scars were far more severe than Lady's, to the point that her right eye was completely blind.

"I suppose I don't," he replied meekly. "You know me?"

"'Course I know you, Nick! I was really excited that the Golden got those sticks out of their funnels when you won. Wish it went better than it did." She smiled. "Though I don't suppose you know me, so I'll tell ya. I'm Glory, though I go by Daniella these days. There aren't many of us Warships left; Onslaught and Chris Broadhurst are my only surviving brothers I got. Well, and you."

"You really think so?"

"A couple extra parts from the US doesn't change much about who you are. My brothers and I are proud to welcome you as our little half-brother." The signal changed at last. "Now get out there and change the world!"

"I will!"

But when he returned, he found that the world had already changed. The engines of the Dieselworks were rabbling angrily. Even Paxton! Nick blew his second horn and everyone snapped to attention.

"Quiet!" Nick snapped. "Now can someone tell me what's going on?"

"The inspection," Norman grunted. "And it's right awful!"

"They said we weren't doing a good job of cleaning up the place!" Dart snapped. "I mean, fair enough, but did they have to be so rude about it?"

"That's, uh, I don't know?" Den asked.

"Exactly!"

"They told me I should've been around the island more," BoCo scoffed. "As though I were able to! I got trainnapped in late 2000!"

"They laughed at me having teething troubles in the past!" Derek fumed.

"And they said the designs of my seats were tacky!" Daisy spluttered. "They can complain about my swerves, they can gripe about my work ethic, but NO INSPECTOR disses my seats!"

"Anyone else want to air a complaint?" Billy asked crankily. "Because they told me I need braces! I can't help my dentition, some dunderhead smacked the inside of my smokebox with a hammer before I was brought to life!"

"And those jokers stuck their hands all over my face!" Lady added. "She's lucky I didn't bite!"

"It's not just on the standard-gauge lines, either!" said a little gray diesel named Frank. "That Boomer fellow says Sigrid and I aren't proper engines! Can you imagine that?! We may be the SIZE of toys, but since when did a toy ever want to be really useful? Never! A toy's meant to NOT be really useful with!"

"Well, except for the development of certain skills," a tiny black diesel shunter commented.

"Shut up, Blister I!"

"Even I don't like these inspectors!" Paxton said crossly. "And I like a lot of things!"

"Yes, Paxton, you're an adorable cinnamon roll," Nick said dryly. "All of what you say is no doubt valid. Now, I have no experience with this inspector, but tomorrow I am bound to. I will take your complaints under advisement and this time I WILL report them to Topham."

"What do you think he'll say to you?" Dart asked in a hushed voice.

"I don't know. But whatever it is, I'll need to think up a decent comeback."

The next morning and the "inspectors" continued to be awful to the engines, their leader most of all. "Are you SERIOUSLY wasting time welcoming a newcomer?" Boomer, riding on the front of the SW900, scowled at Rosie, who had been talking to the new HST sisters, Pip and Emma.

"We want them to feel at home," Rosie retorted, "and a happy engine is a useful one."

"Nope, not gonna fly! Take notes!" he barked to his associates. "Now let's check out the Dieselworks!" And they left.

"...Is it normally like this?" Pip asked incredulously.

"No, it isn't," Rosie replied sheepishly. "Sorry, you've just caught us at a very bad time."

"We understand," Emma said. "But seriously, that man is rubbing my gears the wrong way."

"You and me both, sister," Pip replied angrily.

Boomer arrived at the Dieselworks. "Service THIS one this time!" he bellowed. Den and Dart hastily complied and pulled the SW900 inside as he got off.

"We're lucky this has buffers," Dart mused.

"And bring me the leader of this joint!" Boomer added.

"Yes?" Nick asked, suddenly appearing behind him. Boomer jumped, fell on his back, then scrambled up to his feet.

"What are you, a freak of nature?"

"I'm for maintenance of way duties and anything else that needs help."

"Yeah, well, that claw isn't earning you any brownie points, Diesel Ten!" Boomer wrote something down. "For all I care, you're just one of the dozens of dumb machines on this crapsack of an island. Alright, I'm outta here. Someone call me a cab!"

As Boomer trudged off, Nick growled. Then he realized something. "How did he know that moniker? No one ever mentioned it to him, and I've been going by my actual name for quite some time now."

His driver tapped his control panel. "Yes, he might've just read my story in the news, but he seemed to...actually know me from before. Lady DID say her driver met him back in the States..." He shrugged. "I'm probably just paranoid."

But he should've been paranoid for a very different reason. Boomer to himself was smiling. "This time, I WILL finish you," he chuckled darkly. His writing wasn't notes on what was bad about the NWR; it was a list of names and numbers of the Lifer population on Sodor.

And it was steadily growing more complete.

That night, Sir Topham Hatt was addressing the Steam Team from his perch on top of Duck's water tanks. "As you know, our guests have...not been very polite to you."

"Understatement of the century right there, sir," Duck commented. "And I've almost been alive for one."

"Yes, thank you, Duck. Do not worry, they depart in two days. But the other controllers and I are having a meeting tomorrow to discuss what they've been doing. As well as who shall be going to the 2022 Great Railway Show."

"Regarding the latter, I don't think I want to be streamlined again," Gordon groaned at the memory.

"Very well, Gordon. Take care, all of you."

As Hatt left, the engines grimaced. "That P. T. Boomer, that P. T. Boomer. I do not like that P. T. Boomer," James growled.

"What bothers me is why he's doing this," Percy said. "If he hates Lifers that much, why inspect an island crawling with them? Which brings up another good question: how in GWR 1340 or whoever it is that I'm based upon are we even alive at all?"

"Legend says that the first Lifer was made from something that fell from the sky," Henry said, causing Emily, Rosie, and Thomas to stiffen. "And because of her, we have life too. But it's probably just a story made to keep young engines from misbehaving."

"You're probably right, Henry," Gordon agreed. "I swear, that man is up to no good and may be after our frames. And if he is...well, I don't want to say I'll run him down, but–"

"There's no need to," Edward said, tranquil fury in his voice. "Because I think I speak for all of us when I say, if he turns out to be one of those people who wants every vehicle's head on a silver platter, or even their leader, then for the sake of all Lifers everywhere we'll all want him gone." And the roundhouse was angrily silent for the rest of the night.

You know you've done goofed when Edward hates your soul.

Maybe the engines aren't as dumb as Boomer thinks they are. For his dark and twisted backstory is coming to light, and they're piecing the clues together. What will the controllers have to say about this? Who will find out about Crana next? And will Henry follow the rest of the Three Big Engines and make a Dr. Seuss reference?

All this and more in the next chapter – Controllers of the Board!