Glad you all enjoyed last time! Now, thing is, I'm already doing university, so I'm going to be a little bit slow on updates. Not like, month long hiatuses, but still, brace yourself in case I take a little slower to get on top of things than I usually would.
Now, before we move onto the story, I just want to address a few things regarding the future of the actual show. Now, I'm really, really, REALLY hoping that the new direction the show is going to take will prove to be better than what we have been lead to believe. But to do that, there's going to have to be a lot of thought put into it. And thus far, I'm not seeing it. I don't think Thomas and Friends is dead, considering that I'm about to enter a long period of mediocre to horrible stories myself in this very fanfiction. But my hope is that one day, it will return to it's glory.
With that in mind, let me just make an announcement now. While we still have a long ways to go before we even get to the planning stage yet, SEASON 21 AND JOURNEY BEYOND SODOR WILL BE THE CUT-OFF POINT FOR THIS FANFICTION. I will consider writing my own special to wrap things up then, unless the situation has improved in the probable years that it will take to get me to that point.
AaronCottrell97: Yeah, pretty much.
Reality Rejection Service: Damn right.
Bronze Shield: Thanks for the compliment! It's really nice.
Game-Watch: Sounds about right.
MattPrice01: :D Hope you enjoy what's coming, then.
JD145: You'll see.
UGX7: Ah, the interesting thing about Zak is that, while doing research, I either stumbled across or was told by a mate of mine that Zak's bio in one of the more niche production related bits stated that he had designs on Zorran's position. Hence my extending that to Zak wanting to take control of the Z-Stacks from the very source. Added to that is that by this time in the series, Zorran has at least become something of a more three dimensional character when compared to the other Z-Stacks, save Zebedee.
Radical Sandwiches: I AM ASHAMED. XD.
Kamen Rider Necrom: It's pretty good, IMO.
The Nerdinator: WOBBBBBBBBBBLEH.
CUE THE THEME!
"Sir, there's an angry mob forming outside your house!"
"So an average morning here?" growled the Fat Controller at his butler.
"I mean, a larger one than usual. They appear to be chanting that they want their money back...for some reason."
"TELL THEM I'M NOT HERE!" Hatt hid under his bed, while the mob began to throw rotten fruit at his window. He was stressed out. In recent days things had gotten worse and worst for the Island with regards to riots. People were getting really tired of living on a walking death trap.
...
So to help matter, he had come up with a brand new idea. He had bought a new railway traction engine from the Sudrian Police to A: Appease the PC and give them a token character, and B: Try and keep things in order. Unfortunately, this had backfired. Fergus was, to put it mildly, a pain in the arse.
Not least because he appeared to have forgotten he wasn't a policeman anymore.
On the day we speak of, he was heading off to the quarry to do a job that the Fat Controller had asked him to do. And seeing as the China Clay Works had been shut down for a period of time due to Fergus believing there to be drugs there (WHICH THERE WEREN'T) that meant Bill and Ben had been shoved into said quarry until the Vice Squad stopped sniffing around.
"Hello!" said Thomas, who was concerned that Fergus might report him to the Island Police for...well, starting from 'not smiling enough' and working up from there. "Where are you off too?! ...I ask for a friend who wants to avoid you. Not me though. I'm not the friend. Don't get any ideas like that. In fact, what ideas? Who are you even talking to?"
"The quarry! I have heard there are RIFF RAFF there!" cried Fergus, waving his truncheon (Stuck to his flywheel) around like a maniac.
"Watch out for the twins. And by watch out, I mean just stand back and let them do what they want." Thomas flinched as the truncheon nearly smacked him in the eye. "And for gods sake, STOP!"
"NEVER! I won't let a pair of young rascals get to me!"
"I'll put those words on your grave." growled Thomas. "You don't know the twins like I do!"
...
"NOW QUARRY WORKERS 24601! TIME IS UP, AND OUR WORK'S BEGUN! YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!"
Mavis groaned. Fergus was very much a fan of Les Miserables. And of a certain police officer at that. "Another whack job. Why do I always get the crazies? Er, hi Fergus, the trucks are in a bit of a mess!"
"Not to worry! We shall sort them out! A little bit of police brutality NEVER harmed anyone!"
"I...I think that's literally the point of police brutality."
"Do you want a whack with my stick, Percy!?"
"No. No I'll just shut up."
Bill and Ben were, as per usual, delighted. "We'll have some real fun! Get the old boiler in a spin! Why haven't we killed someone yet?!"
As they got to work, engines passed through the quarry and were chased away with increasing regularity. One of them was a new tank engine who was considering putting in an application to join the Island permanently. Unfortunately his episode hasn't aired yet so SSSSH. No one point him out. And on a more serious note, Fergus was fine dealing with Mavis. Not so much the twins, who were being prats. Again.
Bill banged his trucks hard.
"PUBLIC INDECENCEY!" screamed Fergus, getting the really wrongest of all wrong ideas. He then noticed that some of the rocks had fallen off the truck and onto the track. "DO! IT! RIGHT!"
"Up your spout!" snarled Bill, who didn't need no orders from no traction engine. "Don't interfere!"
And then it was Ben's turn to get told off/shouted at, as he shunted a line of trucks to block the line.
"SCANDAL!" wailed Fergus, his club revving up for a-bashing. "DO IT RIGHT! ...And get this out of my way! I cannot PURGE THE WORLD OF SIN with these stuck in my way!"
"You're right! You can't!"
And then Ben left him to simmer in the siding.
...
The next day, the men were blasting rock. They were massive fans of Metallica, you see. ...Oh, and also they were blowing up part of the quarry cliff, I guess. But mostly the former.
"WAIT FOR THE ALL CLEAR SIGNAL!" shouted Fergus over the sounds of Nickelback slumming their way through another song that sounded like...pain. "DO IT RIGHT!"
"I'll do you in a minute!" said Ben. "...Not like that. Not that there's anything wrong with that."
"There he goes again! Do it right from morning til night, and never stop once, or I'll give you a bite!"
"BACK OFF OUT OF OUR QUARRY, MISTER!" shouted Bill. "You're not our father!"
"COME BACK HERE!" Fergus bellowed impotently. "I'll give you such a thump!" But the twins didn't listen, as the quarry master had sent them to get a rock crusher from Brendam Docks. And as they left, they grew crosser and crosser over Fergus.
Who was at this point enjoying his peace and quiet by trying to seduce Mavis. It was going badly. As she would later tell Emily in their daily 'OH THANK HEAVENS THERE'S ANOTHER GIRL ON THIS ISLAND, AM I RIGHT?' meetings, "I'm not going to find a small engine with a supply of cheap innuendos about sucking his stick that attractive."
And the twins were still complaining as they arrived at the docks.
"Just an old fusspot!"
"Like Edward, except without any of the fun bits! DO IT RIGHT! DO IT RIGHT! God, I wish he'd get over himself!"
"Well the next thing he tells us to do right-"
"WE'LL DO IT WRONG!" They laughed.
As they steamed back, they were too busy bragging to notice that A: This was an awful plan in every sense of the words, and B: The rock crusher was heavily shaking the rails up and down.
...
"The blasting has made that rock face unsafe!"
"I don't know." said Mavis dubiously. "I think that's a very nice carving of Hugh Grant right there."
"...Surrounded by idiots." murmured Fergus. Mavis had been thinking exactly the same thing, coincidentally. He spoke up a bit louder. "Don't go near it! DO! IT! RIGHT!"
"How about we don't." said Bill, using iron clad logic. And off the set into the quarry cavern, roughly rocking the rock crusher with reckless righteousness. Don't like alliteration? Too bad! This is but a portent of what is to come!
"Oh..." said Ben, as they got round the first bend. "That is not the best idea we've ever had, is it?"
"No." said Bill, as the rock began to crumble. "No it is not."
"...Oh for god's sake, LOOK OUT!" Fergus rushed forward and shoved both twins and the rock crusher away. ("Ruddy hell is he strong?!" cried Bill as they ended up shooting through the other side). He didn't want to have to explain to the Fat Controller why the workforce of the quarry was now composed of himself, Mavis and two pancakes that looked like they might have been engines.
His driver then left him to his fate. As the rocks came falling down, the traction engine thought of some great last words.
"MOTHER!"
And then didn't say them. He was soon covered with rocks right up to his funnel.
After a very urgent discussion, and an even more urgent tea break, the workmen began to dig the traction engine out. Very, very slowly. They didn't want to get an injured stomach, after all. And Fergus was a bit of a jerk anyroad. It took a long, long time.
And no one worked harder to help than Bill and Ben. Primarily because Mavis had left to get something to snack on, and so upon arriving back had put the fear of God into the two little twits on wheels.
Soon, Fergus was free. The twins were forced to feel ashamed, and also a little sheepish considering that they had nearly gotten Fergus killed. So that was a thing that had happened.
"We shouldn't have been such...idiots. And naughty. And that we nearly got you murdered.
"We won't potentially kill someone like that again. We promise." said Ben, who was already sensing that they were living on borrowed time from the glares that most of the workmen were giving them after having to clean up yet ANOTHER of their messes.
"Good! Then let's do it all right together!"
And everyone laughed.
Until it got awkward.
And then they all went to the pub.
...
Fergus, however, stayed behind for a moment. He waited until all the engines had gone, before limping off in another direction entirely. His flywheel was beginning to give him grief, and as he arrived, he let out a low groan. "This had better be bloody worth it!"
"Funny. I was about to say the same thing to you." Duck emerged from the shadows and glanced at him sympathetically. "The twins?"
"The little hellions! ...What do you want from me?"
"Well, thank you first of all for putting the cat amongst the pigeons with my friends. That's made spying on the new owners a lot harder, ta for all you've done and all that."
"If you wanted an engine person, you should have asked for someone else."
"...You have the information?"
"I do." Fergus's driver retrieved it from the back of his cab. "But it's all legitimate, Duck. Everything that the man in charge is doing is legitimate. The Fat Director was always very careful not to mention his partners, so with him having gone missing, we've nothing to go on."
Duck growled. "Can't believe that the Iron Circle are just...sitting on their arses!"
"Now now, they have to cover those arses...what's your plan?"
"Simple, Fergus." Duck's eyes flashed. "I'm going to win."
...
"The end, as it often does, seemed to come all at a sudden. And yet, if you looked back, it was clear that things were starting to happen. Things that I could no longer control. And the one thing people like you and me need, John, is control. And it began one day, as the fog rolled in.
...
"Sir, I'd like to resign."
Zero spat out his drink. "Ye what!?"
Zebedee looked at him. "I'm resigning, Cap'n. I want out. I'm done. ...Don't pay me, I'll just go. No one loses anything. I'm getting out."
"Ye will not, ye...what the hell's brought this on?!"
"...Lot of things. Just want to leave, tis all."
"Oh yeah!? And where the hell do ye think a little runt like ye is going to go?! The Stars? Let me tell ye, they're hard enough on themselves, ye think they'll want some ruddy turncoat?! Not after the shit we've pulled!"
"...Not Star Tugs, no. Think I might head up river and then...well...we'll see what happens, won't we?"
"Is it about the money, ye fucking magpie?"
"No. I've got more than ever. Now that Zip and Zug aren't coming back."
"I'm telling ye-"
"They're not getting out of dry dock any time soon, sir. Not even you can bribe your way out of this one."
"...Ye coward. Ye getting out before the going goes ta shite?!"
"No. Before I go to pot."
"Ye're scared!"
"Oh yes, sir. I am. Johnny Cuba and you have history, that's enough to put the fear of God into me. It's been ten years and I'm still terrified that he's going to come back and take the entire harbor down with him. I want out of here before you screw us all over. With respect, sir."
Zero's lip curled. "Ye...Ye go. Now. Don't ye fucking dare come looking for work here, or I'll rip yer arse to shreds!"
"Goodbye Cap'n. It's...been an experience."
"Piss off!"
And Zebedee did.
The nineteen thirties.
God, it was already the nineteen thirties.
1935, to be exact. And already the winds were beginning to blow in a direction that Captain Zero was none too happy with. For while he was very happy to be profiting, and war tended to be profitable, the way they made this war sound didn't exactly sound like his cup of tea. Not that he was even going to have much luck profiteering, given how badly the Z-Stacks had been cut down in recent years. Zip and Zug were still trapped in Dry Dock after the long rap sheet that was presented to the judge had failed to get mysteriously lost along the way. And while Zero was still trying his hardest, the two looked to be stuck in there for at least another ten years.
Zorran was off too. Still loyal, still a creep...but Zero was beginning to wonder if the constant exposure to the Star Tugs wasn't sapping away the 'do or die attitude' that, while problematic, was still better than most of the tugs on his staff.
And now Zebedee had bailed.
Damn Johnny! He thought to himself briefly. The tramper was in dry dock too, permanently, and yet it still seemed to him that he was still pulling the strings.
For a moment, he was tempted to call Zorran and demand an update on the latest contract. Then he decided to hell with it, he was going to get drunk. And pulling on his old coat, he limped off towards the Bridge Cafe.
"What happened to the band?" He asked, settling down to a rather subdued bit of music compared to usual.
"Depression." growled the bartender, shoving his usual at him and storming off.
"Ah." Zero was very tempted to just slam his face on the counter and never wake up again. Then he saw someone who appeared to have forgotten a few things. Like her wallet. And most of her top percentage of clothes.
...
"And that was how I met your mother and we had wild, passionate-"
"I THINK WE BETTER NOT TALK ABOUT THIS, LADDIE!" said John, speaking unwittingly for the most of the audience of this story.
"You're missing out! ...Ah well, after I did whatever I did with the rutabaga, I decided to head back and out. I was getting tired of it all, and I wanted to think things through now that I had taken a bit of stress off of my shoulders. And then several things happened."
...
Zero walked a little quickly, drawing his coat around him to try and get rid of that unavoidable chill that was in the air. For the most part, he kept his eyes solely on the ground, unless there were areas where he needed to stop and check for traffic. Even this late at night, it was likely that there were some maniacal Mr Toad type characters riding around in their motors.
It was as he reached the burnt out husk of the docks when it happened. A horn blasted out across the relatively quiet sea air. And he recognised that horn almost immediately, as well as the message behind it. Simply put, dangerous weather, shit will happen.
Zak.
And in the fog? ...Well, accidents did happen, after all.
Zero hadn't gotten to where he was now without acquiring certain instincts. Right now, his mind was blaring out at him to immediately start walking back into the city, somewhere that Zak couldn't spot him, no matter what.
He turned.
And then got the shock of his life.
Standing there in front of him was a man. This was not the shock. The shock was that Zero had never seen a man so old before in his life. He looked as though he was only a few layers of skin away from being a walking, talking skeleton. His hair seemed to be on the verge of dropping out all together, and his eyes...they were wild. Unfocused. As if seeing everything and nothing at the same time.
"Out of my way!" stammered Zero.
The old man gripped his shoulders, with strength that he really should not have had. "Don't!" he wheezed. "Sodor...don't..."
He collapsed to the ground. Much to his horror, Zero could hear Zak gathering speed behind him. And he wasn't even remotely out of the dock yet.
So he did the three things he thought of first.
One, he took off the old man's jacket and slipped it on.
Secondly, he threw his own jacket atop of said old man.
And thirdly, he made a leap of faith off of the dock and into the water, just as Zak hit the dock at full speed.
The old man had just enough time to scream out "NO! NOT LIKE THIS! NOT LIKE-" before he was crushed into nothingness.
...
Three hours later, the body that many presumed to be Captain Zero was pulled out of the wreckage of the old dock. Most of it had been completely wiped out by the force of the crash, and with forensic sciences still in it's infancy, little effort was made to see if the body was that of the good Captain. Zak was held in suspicion for a while, but eventually nothing could be proven, and after a spell in drydock, he was quick to find a sponsor for his bid for power.
Johnny Cuba, it turned out, had managed to get out somehow via a few connections. Bluenose, the naval ship, had a commanding officer who owed old Johnny a favour or fifty, and so got him out...just in time to effectively take over the Z-Stacks from behind the scenes, with Zak as the front man.
But that, as they say, is a story for later.
Somewhere else, Captain Zero took what remained of his fortunes and bought a first class plane ticket to London. From there, he was planning on heading towards a small Island by the name of Sodor.
Something about that man had intrigued him. If only because of how he seemed to know him. And Zero was not aware of every single person he had ever met in the entire world, but he was sure he would have remembered a man like that.
Casually, he reached into the old man's...well, to be honest, his coat pocket and pulled out a collection of things. He sorted them out and stared at them in amazement. This was unreal.
In one hand, he held something that appeared to be a chocolate bar sized bit of plastic. There was a screen on it, like a television, but there appeared to be a button that, when pressed, made the screen flash. He would not know this until much later, but this was what the humans called a 'mobile phone'.
Then there was the money. It was British, he could tell that much, but he wasn't sure who the woman on the front of it was. Nor why there was so much of it in the pockets of a man who looked more like a hobo than anything else.
Okay, what else? Well, there were two lists. The first was one he wasn't exactly sure about, a list of names and occasionally numbers. But the second one? That was far more interesting.
The header of the list, underlined in bright black ink, contained these words: ZERO'S TO-DO LIST. On it were a rather long list of dates, ranging from the current year to the year 2012.
At which were the simple words.
ZERO WINS.
Captain Zero smiled as he examined his new identity. Harry Topper, owner of a fairground on Sodor.
Well, things were about to get very interesting indeed.