Edward backed into the sheds one May evening. It had been a long day and he was looking forward to having a rest. But as he went over to the coaling stage, he overheard Samy Fernby.
"I don't care if they're not built for shunting, I want them for shunting! Now call the Metropolitan Railways's office!"
"Sir, the Metropolitan railway engines aren't built by…"
"Call whoever provides those engines, then!"
Edward couldn't help but wonder.
"What is Fernby up to this time?" he asked.
He commented what he'd heard to the other engines later. It'd been a very tiring day for everyone, especially after the fiasco involving the previous day's dining train.
"No doubt he's being lazy as usual," grumbled 98462. "If we really need more engines, he should design and build some, not import from elsewhere."
"Also…the Metropolitan Railway?" stated Olive. "What is even that company?"
"A railway in London that runs underground," Luci answered.
"Underground railway?! What rubbish!" snorted Thomas. "Engines can't run underground: the smoke would suffocate the crews!"
"Well, they made it work. These engines have special pipes to condense the exhaust steam into side tanks of cold water. They also run on coke instead of coal, so as to produce less smoke. Some of the lines have been electrified with a third rail, but they still have steam locomotives. The tunnels are ventilated for them."
"Why would Fernby want to import an engine from there?" asked Emily. "Surely he'd prefer a locomotive from the Great Northern or Midland!"
"Especially since all steamers on the MET are tank engines," Luci replied. "We already have plenty on this railway, I don't see why we need another."
"The Highland is also a good choice," said 98462. "Their engines were built to handle strong grades, they'd be able to climb the Maron Incline with ease."
"Surprised you're advocating for the Highland," said Thomas. "I thought your railways were rivals."
"Actually, Thomas, we are rivals with the North British Railway," 98462 corrected. "Not sure what our relationship with the Highland is, but it doesn't seem to be that big of a rivalry."
"How many railway companies are in Scotland alone?" asked Luci.
"The Caledonian, the Highland, the North British, and the Great North of Scotland," 98462 answered. "That's what I remember at the top of my head."
"I see…"
"Also, I think that another good engine could be a GWR 4300 Mogul," intervened Olive.
"Goods traffic hasn't really increased enough to warrant one though," Selena pointed out.
"Maybe another engine from the Lanky?" asked Lily.
"Missing your home, huh?" Thomas asked cheekily.
"Alright, settle down, Thomas," said Edward. "We all miss ours, don't we?"
"Not me: engines at London Battersea were jerks," scoffed Thomas. "All they did was treat me like a slave. Even my brothers were…how do I say it…arseholes. And for what? Looking different from them? That's no excuse when other engines didn't look like them at all."
"How were you different from your brothers, Thomas?" asked Selena.
"You see the extension to my tanks?" asked Thomas.
"Yes."
"Well my brothers don't have these: I was given them as an experiment to try and extend their water capacity. They didn't tell me if the results were successful, but I've heard Billinton is planning to build another batch to my design."
"I don't see why that's a bad thing. If anything, your brothers may be rebuilt now"."
"Maybe, maybe not," said Thomas. "Only engines there who did treat me like a friend were a K-class mogul and a C2X 0-6-0."
"Surely there were other tank engines!" Edward gasped.
"Well, there were some D1s, but I almost never saw them. There were also some E1s working alongside my class, but only one was sentient. The other tank engines on the LB&SCR worked at other shunting yards or branch lines."
"I see…I'm guessing bigger engines didn't treat you any better?"
"Of course not, especially the Atlantics: they gave me orders like they were royalty. I swear, if this railway ever acquires one of those, I'm pushing it into the sea."
"Now Thomas, what if it wasn't a Brighton Atlantic?" Edward asked. "Can you really apply what those Atlantics were like to other Atlantics?"
"Good point. By the way, Edward, how was your home on the Furness railway?"
Edward smiled a bit.
"Funny you ask, Thomas: your behaviour right now reminds me of an engine on my old railway who actually thought the same thing about my class."
"Please, tell us about it," said the other engines.
"Alright, then. But with one condition: You'll all tell a similar story regarding your past homes. Deal?"
"Deal," agreed the other engines.
"Very well then," said Edward. "I shall begin." And this is the story Edward told:
(Flashback, 1907)
Prior to coming to Sodor, Edward was painted red like the rest of his class. He and his siblings were used on express trains. Edward in particular, enjoyed running trains to Coniston, where he would meet with a steam boat. Unfortunately, his visits there would often be soured by a particular engine, a Furness Railway L2 class 0-6-2 tank engine. The L2s and L3s were nicknamed Cleator tanks. Edward had just arrived at Coniston with a passenger train, when he first met this engine.
"Hullo there," said Edward. "I've not seen you before. My name is…"
"Piss off!" snorted the engine. Edward was taken aback!
"Excuse me?!"
"You deaf?! I said piss off: I don't have time to mingle with you express engines!"
"That's no way to talk: all I did was say hullo," snorted Edward.
"There you go, as always: telling us tank engines when to behave. That's all you express engines do: insult us lesser engines! Well I won't stand for it! If I see you here again, I'll…"
"You'll do nothing," said Edward firmly. "Your crew wouldn't let you."
The L3 hissed rudely at him.
"There'll be more than hissing if you don't shove off!" shouted the L3. "I AM the crew!"
"Well, I can't shove off until my guard blows his whistle," Edward pointed out. "And what do you mean you're the crew?! We engines can't drive ourselves!"
"Maybe you can't, but I can! Now piss off! "
"Not without us you can't, Kevin," said the L3's driver.
"Did you two imbeciles have to screw it up?!"
"I'm taking you to the goods shed," said the driver sternly. "I think you need to calm yourself down."
With much clanking, the L3 was driven away. Edward couldn't help but feel upset.
"I was only trying to be friendly," he said sadly.
"I know, Edward, I know," soothed his driver.
When Edward returned to Barrow, he told the other engines all about Kevin.
"You're not the only one who's met him, Edward," said 121, one of his K1 sisters. "I encountered him earlier too. Was just as rude to me as he was to you."
"I just don't understand why he snapped," Edward said. A G1 tank engine spoke up.
"If you're that upset, Edward," he said, "let me take your next express run up to there: I'll be sure to give that Kevin a piece of my mind. You can take my place in the yards: my siblings will teach you all you need to know about shunting."
"Thank you, Pete," said Edward. "That will be lovely."
Edward soon found he enjoyed shunting: it was great fun coming up quietly then giving the trucks a bump.
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" cried the trucks. "Whatever is happening?"
The fun didn't last forever, though: Pete, a normally-positive engine, returned that afternoon, looking miserable.
"My god, Pete, you look upset!" Edward gasped.
"I tried," said Pete. "I really tried…but he called me a goddamn moron who doesn't even know what a buffer is! Then he had the nerve to insult me further with a word that should never be used! I just…couldn't take it anymore!"
"I'm sorry to hear that, Pete," said Edward sadly.
"I just don't understand: I was built in 1867, I'm the eldest engine here, I should be able to be a guide to younger engines. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO IF ONE OF THEM WON'T LISTEN TO ME?!"
Edward thought about this.
"I guess the only thing you can do: let Kevin learn for himself."
A few days later, Edward was sent to Coniston first thing in the morning.
"Kevin's firebars have collapsed and he needs to be taken here for repairs," the shedmaster explained. "You're the only engine currently available."
"On my way sir," said Edward.
Kevin was not pleased when Edward buffered up to him.
"Oh, now you're going to taunt me about the fact I'm weak?"
"Not at all: I've come to help you," said Edward. Ignoring whatever Kevin said about express engines, Edward pulled him back to Barrow tender-first. Kevin didn't stop complaining, until they got to Foxfield. Not because he had seen sense, but because he'd run his mouth dry!
Upon arriving, Edward shunted the L3 into a siding, where he would be inspected for any further damage prior to being sent to Vickers Shipyard.
"Not so bad for a snooty express engine," Edward said. "I think you owe me an apology: after all, even though you were rude, I still helped you."
"Never! I'll never apologise!"
"And why not? I just proved…"
"I know what you just proved. I know not all express engines are pompous and snooty, I just don't like any express engine!"
Edward couldn't believe what he had just heard!
"So it's just prejudice is it? Well you're no better than us 'pompous snooty express engines' the way you're acting. You keep that up, you won't have any friends, and you'll die alone." And with that, Edward steamed away.
(Flashback ends)
"Unfortunately, Kevin never did change his ways: he stayed a racist bastard and most likely remains one today.
"How awful!" exclaimed the engines.
"That makes no sense: why did you helping him even though he was rude to you not change his viewpoint?" Olive asked.
"Sometimes, there is no explanation for racism," Edward replied. "Not all racists have a reason to dislike other races. But we shouldn't worry about that," he continued with a smile. "For so long as we surround ourselves with people who don't care what class of locomotive or what race we come from, then life is worth living."
"My turn!" exclaimed Selena. "My story is one regarding a particularly bad accident at the Midland."
(Flashback)
Back in 1913, Selena mostly was busy with goods trains. She was allocated to Carlisle Upperby and worked on the Settle-Carlisle Line.
One particular day, she and one of her brothers were approached by their local director.
"You two! I have a job for you. A heavy goods train. You're both needed to double-head."
Both engines groaned: the Midland had a tendency to acquire more goods contracts than 3835s like them were capable of handling, which, coupled with their small engine policy, ended up in trains running behind schedule.
As soon as the director left, Selena's brother began to complain
"We're overworked, I tell you! Overworked!"
"Oh put a sock in it will you!" snapped a voice. It belonged to 446, a Midland Railway Class 2 4-4-0 tender engine. Normally, he and Selena were friends, but today, it had been a late night and he was exhausted. "All you do is pull dirty smelly trucks up that gradient. If you have a problem with that, you're a wimp."
"Like you'd know what a problem is, Harris!" Selena snapped.
"I know problems indeed, Selena. I have to work day in and day out double or triple heading express trains. But we don't complain, we just keep on going. Unlike you, you just stall and wait for help."
"Try restarting after getting stuck on that hill! Oh wait, you can't, your wheels are too big, fatso!"
The other engines gasped!
"Oh you think I'm fat do you?! Well let me tell you this: you weigh 49.5 tons, I weigh 35.8 tons So that doesn't make me fat. If anything, you're the one who weighs more. If fat is how you see me, then watch me ease up Ais Gill tomorrow morning with my early express."
"Huh! I'll even overtake you!"
"Come on, Selena," said her brother. "We need to get going." The two siblings left the shed, Selena still glaring at Harris.
"Did you really need to call Harris fat?" asked her brother as they travelled along the Settle-Carlisle Line. "Yes, he can be rude, but he's a hard worker."
"He has nerve saying we don't know about problems, Jason," snorted Selena. "All engines have problems, even him!"
"Even if that is true," said Jason, "he still works hard."
"Whatever!" she scoffed. It was silent afterwards: both were too busy to talk more. For the rest of the day, they just carried on with their work in silence.
It was early the next morning, when an alarm woke the other engines up. Presently, the night-duty shunter came running up.
"There's been an accident at Ais Gill!" he said. "446 has crashed into the 1:38 AM express with the 1:54 AM express and is in need of rescuing." Selena suddenly went pale: she began to regret what she had said to Harris.
"I volunteer to help!" she called out. Straight away, she was fired up immediately. Coupling
up to a crane, along with two ambulance cars and two flatbeds, she set off for Ais Gill.
It was not a pretty sight to see: Harris had smashed into the last three coaches, which were now destroyed. She took a look at Harris, and gasped: he was upright, but his face had a huge scar over his eye. Not to mention that most of the brass on his structure had broken off, including his nameplate. Some pieces of metal on his structure, as well as his chimney, were also bent.
"Oh my god! Harris, I'm so sorry!"
Harris looked at Selena, and smiled.
"I'll admit, I was wrong: it was a struggle climbing up this grade. I should be the one apologising to you."
"He's alright," said a workman. "He'll need repairs but he'll live."
Selena took Harris back to the sheds, still feeling guilty.
(Flashback ends)
"He made it through his accident and returned to service," said Selena, "but I hardly saw him after that."
"What happened? Why did he crash?" Emily asked.
"I later found out he was struggling, even though he had a lighter load than the train in front of him, and his driver got out to walk round the outside framing and oil some of the working parts while the train was in motion. He was also having injector problems, which meant he missed signals and the guard from the first train warning him with a lantern."
"I'd tell you mine, but I already did," said Thomas. "And even if I did have another, it's late. I'd like to get some sleep." And with that, Thomas shut his eyes and dozed off.
Next morning, Thomas had fewer jobs than usual, since many passenger trains had been cancelled. Not much really happened during his time in London: his brothers had taunted him for being different, other engines treated him like a slave, and he only had two friends. To him, there was nothing about that worth telling. While taking on coal and water, he gave a sigh: he was starting to miss those friends and wondered how they were getting on back from his old home. He still remembered the last conversation he had with them.
(Flashback, 1914)
Thomas was taking on coal and water, ready for his long journey. His old friends came up to him.
"So you're really going through with this, Thomas?" the K Class asked.
"Of course I am, Lawson," snorted Thomas. "Anything's better than staying here with those jackass tender engines."
"I don't really blame you, Thomas," said the C2X. "Your siblings have no excuse: in fact, they should be grateful you're helping to improve them rather than bullying you. I'm sure the engines where you're going will treat you just as well as Lawson and I have."
"IF they don't, I'll give them what for, Ivy," said Thomas.
"I'm sure you will," chuckled Ivy. "Just remember: no matter what happens, Lawson and I will always support you. And should you decide to eventually come back, we will be here waiting."
"Indeed we will," said Lawson with a smile. "Now go out there and make our railway proud."
"Thanks, you two, and I will," said Thomas happily.
(Flashback ends)
The E2 gave a smile as he finished his drink.
"Considering what I've been doing for this railway, I think I already have," he said.
"Already have what?" asked his driver.
"Just…something I promised," said Thomas. He went back to work, happy to be living in his new home, and feeling he certainly did the LBSCR proud.
Each engine had their own stories, some more interesting than others. Unfortunately, not all were big on talking, meaning some mysteries remained.
However, there were bigger problems, such as the new engine acquired by Fernby or rather, three new engines. But I mustn't say anymore, or I'll spoil the next story.
(Author's Note: The accident Harris had is the 1913 Ais Gill accident. The details are almost exactly as they were real-life.)