Little bit of a plot heavy one with regards to the subplot, but I hope you enjoy! Not least because it'll give perhaps some backstory into the Old Ones, who I have mentioned before, who will be vital to understanding Season 5 and Magic Railroad.

Another thing, writing the actual Train Stops Play thing was amazingly fun. Not least because the entire episode is pretty lighteweight itself, but because Caroline is rapidly becoming one of the funnier characters to write for. Basically, if you don't get her deal, then watch the George Carlin version.

Also, outside of one joke I'll make in the chapter itself, this has nothing to do with anything, but it's just a general observation of mine that I don't think I can slip it into Season 5. So, saying it here, I'm actually pretty okay with Alec Baldwin's Season 5 narration. His Season 6 one is weaker, but I still like him as the narrator. Not least because he probably does my third favorite Topham Hatt voice after Angelis and Wickham.

Cue the theme!

...

After a rather rough night, in which many of the engines had been forced to endure listening to Henry's long diatribes about how humans were destroying trees, the sun shone down upon the island, casting everything in a golden light. Stepney was busy talking to the other engines, enjoying very much his first ever trip to Sodor. Thomas, Toby and Percy had little going on that day, and as they shared a drink together at the Tidmouth bar, they watched as the other engines bustled about doing their work and laughing at the poor sods. Duck and Donald were doing much the same thing

James puffed out with the express towards the station, snootily sticking his nose up at the four non-tender engines. But deep down, the red one was concerned. Henry had been worried all night over rumors that Drampf had uncovered something that could potentially sink the campaign. And while James was many negative things, he was also someone who did care a great deal for those he worked with daily.

Stepney, meanwhile, addressed the other three. "You are very lucky engines, not to preach! Your line has everything! A decent wine collection for a start! Cheers!"

"Cheers!" said the others, who drank their wine quickly. They had taken it in an attempt to look more cultured for the photographers. Thomas spat his out rather quickly the second the cameras switched to another shot.

"I mean it though. I mean, it's nice enough that you get a good long run, you've got passengers out the wazoo, plenty of trucks to have some fun with, a decent controller...I mean, that quarry and mine is something else! You won't believe this, mind, but they got rid of trucks on our line. They're fun. Wish I could have a go and see if I've still got that old black magic!"

The three of them stared at each other as Stepney stared off wistfully. They thought he was a bit touched in the head for wanting to get involved with trucks. Percy spoke up "You're welcome to take these lot. It's my one job or so for the day. Better ask driver first. You know, just in case."

"What was that?!" Carlin leaped from the cab "A way to get off early for the day!? Come on then, you ******* lot!" And the two engines set off, leaving Thomas and Toby to stare after them, speechless.

"Well." said Toby, recovering "And how goes preparations for the big debate?"

"I don't really know. How the hell do I speak for exactly half a hour on the topic of bicycles?"

"Well, some things are a mystery."

"You're a mystery, Toby."

"Killer insult, Thomas."

When Thomas hurried off to get a quick drink of something at the harbor, he passed by James and Henry, both of whom had taken a break from arguing repeatedly about whether or not Drampf was a threat to be reckoned with to marvel at how Stepney was maneuvering the trucks around. As he picked up a fresh and empty batch, he whistled quickly to the other engines as he started back along the Little Western.

As he reached the aptly named Bulgy's Bridge, he saw a cricket field, and was somewhat thankful that the signal had stopped him. Not because he enjoyed cricket in any way, shape or form, but because at least it would help him drop off in the warm sunlight easier. His driver, however, was a avid watcher of cricket, and so sat down with his sandwiches to get a good watch.

The Fat Clergyman was leading his team against that of Mr Jobling's, though if you asked me what the hell was going on I'd not have a clue. Then, as always, there was trouble. The batsman (Jem Cole) hit the ball and it soared through the air, just as the signal went down.

CLUNK, went the signal (I bet you never knew signals talked, did you?)

THUMP, went the ball on the soft hay (Stepney had gotten lost and gone through a hayrick)

OH BALLS, went the cricketers.

Neither driver or fireman heard it, as they had rapidly remembered that of all the sports, including ones of alien planets, cricket was quite possibly the most boring thing to ever be played at all. Stepney started off as the cricketers stared in horror.

"STOP!" belted out the players. Stepney ignored them.

"Come along, come along!" He called to the trucks.

"Our one and only ball!" fumed the Clergyman.

"It-a occurs to me that-a we-a really should have a-planned ahead for such a eventuality" remarked the Barber.

"We're not letting this game go! We've wasted too much time on this pointless game to give it up now!" Bobblehat prodded Cole in the chest "Ere, where's that old banger you were talking about?!"

"How dare you speak about his wife like that?!"

"I mean the car, you great steaming nit-"

"Don't you great steaming nit me!"

Eventually, to calm everyone down, Jem jumped over the wall and fetched his new car. Her name was Caroline, and she had been bought for a cheap deal from Adrian Gotch. The man had been haggard, and had, in a unusual move for the seller, insisted on paying Jem. "For your insurance! You'll need it!" he said, and departed as Caroline sulked.

Jem had used her once or twice. He could see Gotch's point. "Wake up, Caroline! The chase is on!"

"Why ah do declare, Mr Cole, you get shove it right up your ass!" Caroline was a Southern Belle. Cole would have taken an actual bell if it eventually meant he'd get shot of her. The other members rushed forward, and climbed inside, or when there wasn't enough room, outside.

"Come on love!" encouraged Bobblehat "Onwards!"

"But where will ah go? What shall ah do?!"

"Frankly my dear Caroline, we'd don't give a damn!" And at last, Jem managed to start her off, the Fat Clergyman and the Barber hanging to the car for dear life, while Jobling rather enjoyed his roofside seat. As she left, she hooted at Bulgy, who snarled and muttered something offensive about women under his breath. A chicken then decided to relieve itself in the luggage rack, just to spite him.

Stepney, meanwhile, was enjoying his run tremendously. As he crossed a bridge that ran by the River Eis, he saw out of the corner of his eye the odd caravan rushing on the road bridge on the other side of the river. Soon, she had caught up behind him, so slow was he going. Stepney ignored her, and carried on, chuffing happily.

"TOOT! TOOT!" she wailed. For no reason, might we add, did she need to actually shout it when she had a perfectly fine horn, but Caroline was like that. The players shouted (Well, most of them did, the Fat Clergyman was hanging on for dear life and had little to no breath whatsoever) but no one seemed to notice.

The driver turned back. "Er, fireman, do the Keystone Kops reside here?"

"A bit of a loaded question that. The entire railway is one Keystone Kops sketch that hasn't ended."

"Right. Well if those jokers want to look like right plonkers and have a race, then who are we to argue? Faster Stepney, faster!" He leaned out "And you SUCK at cricket!"

"Mamma mia!" cried the barber, not because of the comment, more because he was slipping off the car.

"We need less weight!" called Cole, directing his comment at the Clergyman. With a nod, the man of the cloth braced himself...and then shoved the Barber off into the stream.

Poor Caroline was not having a good time at all, as she rattled along at twice her usual speed and with hordes of sweating cricket players trying not to throw up. She began ranting and raving as she journeyed on "Ah should not be treated like this! It is far too hot for a lady like mahself to be doing this, it'll fuse all of mah systems, it will!"

Suddenly, Stepney was nowhere to be seen, save for a brief wisp of smoke coming from the inside of the Hackenbach Tunnel. Caroline whooped and cheered aloud with great joy. "Hoorah! The silly old train ran into a gosh darn hole! Can't catch him, time to go home and rest my dainty little wheels!"

She had reckoned without the cricketers. "Onwards!" belted out Jobling, and she started off so roughly that she launched the Fat Clergyman high into the air, proving once and for all that karma is always watching on the Island. As they climbed the hill, her driver pounded her up it (Heh. Pound. Sounds dirty...sorry, that was immature of me) and then down the steep slope. Stepney, who was waiting at the bottom, stared in bafflement as Caroline swung about wildly, before lurching to a rather sudden and sharp stop that sent Bobblehat through her roof. The good news was that he landed on something soft.

The bad news was that the soft thing was the Clergyman's belly. "GERROF!" He shouted, using language very unsuitable for a man of the cloth.

"We need our ball back!" cried the players.

The third truck from the van contained the ball. Jobling raised it up from the straw like a Olympian wielding a mighty trophy. "WE HAVE IT!" He bellowed.

"Sorry." muttered the driver.

"Not your fault." said Cole, who was feeling much better now after finding the ball "Now, we'll just have to hurry back quickly."

"You'll be lucky. Caroline looks worn out. Is she supposed to be on fire like that?"

Driver, stationmaster and yard manager came together, discussed something together, and agreed on a plan. Using their combined strength, plus a rather small crane, they forced Caroline onto a flatbed via a number of wooden boards that were lying around for some reason. Who knows what lurks in the hearts of yard managers? The players clambered into the brake-van, and Stepney pulled them all back to the playing field, giving Caroline a chance to get a nice bit of kip.

When they got back, everyone enjoyed watching the game. That's a lie. Stepney went back to sleep, the driver did his crossword and the fireman went home. But the players seemed to have fun in their weird game (Jobling won by the way, and proceeded to rub it in the Fat Clergyman's rather red face) at least until the post-match punch-up started.

Caroline had to admit, she was wrong. She doesn't think trains are silly now "They do have their uses, they can save the wear and tear on a poor beautiful car like mahself's wheels, indeed!"

Stepney decided not to waste time and energy on getting insulted by Caroline saying that the only reason his race was even useful was to give her the occasional lift, and headed back for Tidmouth.

...

"Blimey guv, it sure is Mork and Mindy out here, careful that Mickey Bliss of yours doesn't make your Trouble and Strike regret that she married you!" Stepney coughed, and spoke normally. "So yeah, according to some idiots, I sound like Dick Van Dyke reincarnated as a engine."

"So, what was that you were saying?"

"Driver, it's really windy out here, make sure that piss of yours doesn't make your wife give up on you."

"Huh. You learn more every day." James grinned. "So, tell us, Stepney, what is it like living with urban people?"

Stepney looked lost for words for a moment. James could be the most clueless person on the planet sometimes. Make that most of the time.

The engines were gathered together for a good old fashioned boys night out at Tidmouth's Shed. The Main Seven were there, alongside Donald and Douglas and Stepney. Supposedly, Duck and Oliver were supposed to be coming along, but Duck had backed out of the sheds the second he saw Stepney, and Oliver had yet to arrive at all. So for the moment

Henry came to the rescue with a rather odd story about the time that he and Gordon, sleeping in Vicarstown Sheds, had been swarmed by Jehovah Witnesses, and all the wacky hi-jinks that followed.

"What do you guys think of religion?"

Everyone looked to Toby, who did the engine equivalent of shrugging. "Sorry, just curious, it just occurred to me that we've never really talked about it."

"Here we go." muttered Edward, under his breath.

Everyone considered this for a moment.

"Well-" remarked Henry at last "-I am pretty sure that there is a God up there, judging us. Don't know if that makes me a Christian or whatever." Most of the other engines agreed, while Stepney stayed deep in thought.

"I don't believe in God" declared Toby "What about you, Stepney?"

"Hmm? Oh, I think there's a God all right, and I'm sure he's the Christian one. No, it just reminded me of a old story that I heard a long time ago about how steam kind was created."

"Oh?" Edward looked intrigued "Oddly enough, I don't think we've got many engine-based religions on the Island. Apart from James's. Which lasted...how long?"

"A month"

"It was ahead of it's time!" raved James "You just couldn't understand the vision I had for it!"

"Ah, you don't want to hear this story-"

"No, come on, you can't just leave us on the edge of our berths like that, come on!"

"Yeah, we've got time".

Stepney smiled. "Oh, all right. Well, it's a rather interesting story, even though I personally don't believe in it. Once upon a time, back in the Middle Ages, there was this creature. This...malevolent force was a truly terrifying creature, made up of shadows, and with a voice that could corrupt even the purest of heart. Though it's influence was, for the moment, contained to a solitary island known simply as 'England', it had the potential to grow and grow until it covered the whole world. It haunted people throughout the land, did horrible things to them, and amassed an army of ruthless and desperate people who were willing to serve it."

"Are you talking about the devil, or Hollywood?"

Stepney laughed. "Oh hush, you. Anyway, one day, a group of magic users and beings journeyed to a lone island off the coast of England, where the creature was preparing to draw enough power to begin it's conquest of the world. Now this group was a odd one indeed. Amongst them were the last remaining group of a tribe of Vikings that had been wiped out by the creature, a creature from the woods of Doyley, a jester for one of the local 'kings' as they insisted as being referred to and a wizard who had supposedly been to the future."

"Okay, was the guy who came up with this smoking something? That's just...weird."

"So, this group arrived on the island determined to make sure that, for once and for all, this menace was going to be taken care of. But they knew from experience that attacking the creature with their fists and weapons was no good. Nor still could they attack it with magic, at least, not without some form of a conduit. Something that could harness their magic and use it as a weapon.

Now, the wizard had seen many a thing upon his journeys back and forth time, and it has been suggested that the jester too came from a place far off in the future, and so both of them set to work gathering metal from the island, and gave it to the blacksmith of the vikings, ordering him to construct a variety of machines that could take the magic that all combined had to offer, and use that magic to vanquish the creature.

Well, it was hard work, and many machines were created, many that would become the inspirations for the modern vehicles of today. Cars, boats, buses, tractors, steamrollers, tugs, all of which were good...but not good enough. So then, the wizard summoned up as much metal as he could, and ordered the blacksmith to create something he had seen many a time, what he called a Ste-Am En-Gin. And so, two engines were created.

But by now, the malevolent force had understood that it's home was under attack, and it's future conquest was on the verge of being destroyed. As it moved out, many of the brave vikings tried valiantly to stop it, but to no avail. And so, the wizard and the jester poured as much magic into the trains as they could. Nothing happened. And then, in the blink of a eye, the trains grew faces. And then they asked:

"How can we help?"

Now, of course, when a creature of such darkness exists, it is perhaps the way of the universe to provide a polar opposite to counter it. In this case, two spirits who had lived on this island for quite a large portion of their enormous lifestyles, had inhabited the trains. And that, really, was what the weapon needed. And so, as the creature rushed towards them, the last of the vikings having fallen in battle, the seven remaining figures poured all the innate magic that was hidden deep inside of them into the two trains. And with a deafening bang, they launched a terrible, blinding white light that completely engulfed the creature, and banished it from this world.

Well, there was little need for anything more to be done. It was offered that the two trains be taken back to England, but they declined. For this massive burst of magic had brought to life the other vehicles of the future, giving them faces and minds and hearts like the trains. For spirits, they were wise to the ways of men, and knew that nothing good could come of introducing technology and powers before their time to them. So, they promised that one day, they would come back to the mainland. So saying, they were gratified when the wizard gifted unto one of them, a female, the gift of magic and knowledge of the arts. And the jester gave the second, a male, a powerful lamp, with which to light the way for all kind."

"Wait, wait, wait." Thomas was on the verge of laughing "The Proteus story?"

"Uh huh. As I was saying, then they left, and the vehicles were left to their own devices. As they were the first of their kind, they called themselves Old Ones. And eventually, when man officially invented the steam train and so on, everyone eventually left, spread out, and with the help of the island's metal, wihich had been supercharged with magic, they were able to make more of them. And that, in turn, is where we come from."

Everyone paused to digest this.

"It's a nice story-" Edward said carefully.

"-But it's just that. A story. Besides, most of the Old Ones would have probably been killed by now." James laughed. "I mean, who the hell is still looking for them after all this time?!"

...

"Jinty, listen to me, all right!"

"Duck, what is it that you want? You're been going hot and cold with me for months now. First you tell me to talk, then you cut all ties with us-"

"Oh yeah, and how does that feel, huh!?"

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

"I, er, walked right into that one." Jinty looked into the sidings. "What is it that you wanted to call me about?"

"i...look, when I made that call to you, I was rather in shock. I had no idea that Stepney even knew about the Old Ones, let alone that he'd have a idea about why I was here. But look, he says that he's not going to tell anyone, and I don't think he has, so there's really no need to detain him. Certainly no need for Pug to bring him back to HQ."

"Why are you so concerned? He's not going to be harmed."

"But still! I mean, I just...I just-" Duck realized that telling Jinty that Stepney had said a couple of things that had very much interested him wasn't a thing he was prepared to do at the moment "I just don't think it's fair that we're taking him in." He quickly changed tack "And anyway, when I called, you said you had something to tell me."

Jinty looked sceptical, but moved on "A couple of days ago, Pug intercepted a letter that Hatt had sent to the papers, looking for a helper. Thanks to you, all of his mail now goes directly through us, so it wasn't hard to find. There has been an answer, however, and I thought it fair to warn you in advance. It's a Class 40 diesel. For the most part, we've had no indication to believe that he's anything more than a massive racist towards all steamkind."

"But?"

"But there's the fact that he's primarily been working on the Other Railway. And the fact that the last time that such a thing happened-"

"We ended up bringing Marklin onto the railway." Duck thoughtfully inclined his face a little "A fair point. I'll be watching, and should anything untoward happen, I'll, er, use the old bowler hat trick."

"Fair enough. There is just one other point of business."

"Which is?"

Jinty opened her mouth...and then closed it "It's, er, something to do with your pal Oliver."

"Oh yeah?"

"The trucks are growing restless. We've identified the cause as one private wagon, S.C. Ruffey. He's...not a nice truck to cross. Only responds to brute force, and we can't even try and make sure he doesn't make this entire island go into revolt because of how guarded he is. He's targeting Oliver. I'd suggest that if you really care for him as much as you indicate you do, you'll help him."

"Right. Thanks Jinty. I...I'm glad you get it! I mean, get that it's impossible for you not to get attachments. It's just...they're all good engines, in their own way. And I'd like to see them come to no harm. Night." And so saying, Duck puffed back to Tidmouth.

Jinty stayed silent for a moment. And then Pug rattled out of the darkness, looking off at Duck in the distance. "You didn't tell him about the raid on the Beetle's warehouse?"

"Why not? It's like you said. He is too attached." Jinty shook herself out of her reflection. "Ah, right, so Pug, what date is the next Kipper Run on? I think that'll be the best time."