THOMAS, BETWEEN THE LINES

Written by Zack Wanzer, James Riddle and Rachel Ravens

Set before Series 1/The Adventure Begins

Act 1: No. 107

You know my history quite well, I'm sure. I came to Sodor, was mentored under Edward, helped Henry with his trauma from the tunnel, got pulled behind Gordon's express and rescued James from an accident. Annie and Clarabel have been my faithful coaches ever since I got to run the Ffarquhar branch line.

But have I ever told you about my life before I was bought by Sir Topham Hatt?

I haven't? Well, now's as good a time as any to tell this story about what it was like for me and my siblings, and it all began on the London, Brighton and South Coast Railway…

I was the eighth of my class to be built – Billinton E2 No. 107, my first firing in March 1916. By the time I'd entered service, the Great War was well underway, and the United Kingdom was one the Allies, fighting against the Central Powers of the German Empire, Austria-Hungary and the Ottoman Empire.

"Why would anyone want to start something so horrible?" I asked one of my older siblings, numbered 102. (At the time, we were all referred to by our numbers rather than names.)

"Greed, power, you name it, little brother," sighed 102. "Honestly, to explain everything would take months."

"It all started because someone thought it'd be a good idea to shoot the archduke of a foreign nation and his duchess, that's why!" said another older sibling, 104; she was never an engine to mince words.

"Fat lot of good it did to the rest of the world," grumbled 103.

"We all have to do our part to help people who want this to stop," said 101; easily the sweetest of the bunch. "No one said it would be an easy feat, but it will definitely be worth it in the end to stop this conflict."

"That is indeed a good point, 101," smiled 100; he was the oldest of us, and therefore our leader. "Keep your smokeboxes held high, and keep pushing forward."

With that, my siblings and I headed off to work.

My siblings and I were built to replace the elderly Stroudley E1s on shunting duties. Among the other shunting engines was an A1 Terrier named Boxhill, whom you might encounter at the National Railway Museum in York, and one of Stepney's siblings. Boxhill was a good friend, and acted like a mentor to me.

"Okay, 107," he said to me. "In order to handle coaches, you must be very gentle. Passengers can't be bounced around like peas in a frying pan."

"Gentle with coaches," I repeated. "Okay, Boxhill." I rolled steadily up to some coaches who were resting in a siding. "Come on," I called. "It's time for the train."

Unfortunately, I moved a bit too quickly and bumped into them.

"Oh!" shrieked one. "Watch out!"

"Clumsy shunter!" muttered another.

"Oh dear!" I cried. "S-sorry, coaches!"

"Go easy on him!" snapped Boxhill. "He's new to this!"

"Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if he turns out to be just like the seven E2s that came before him!" came another voice; this one sounded very unpleasant.

"Ugh…" muttered Boxhill. "Not him again…" There, coming towards us, was a tank engine bigger than either me or Boxhill, with six driving wheels and two trailing wheels underneath his bunker. He also sported the number 471.

"Who's that?" I asked Boxhill.

"I believe you'll find that I used to go by Forest Hill," said the other tank engine. "But now, I go by the name Charleston."

"He's one of the E4 tank engines built by Robert Billinton," explained Boxhill. "Ever since he was renamed, he's been impossible to stand."

"I can stand on the rails very well, thank you!" said Charleston. "Something I doubt this runt will be able to do."

"I'm not a runt!" I snapped, even though I didn't know what that word meant at the time. "My siblings have been pulling together very well so far."

"So you didn't hear about the push-pull trains then," smirked Charleston. "They were probably too ashamed to bring it up!"

"Push-pull trains?" I asked, not understanding what that was.

"Charleston!" snapped a female voice; the tank engine's number was 566. "Are you lollygagging and bullying another engine when you're supposed to be taking your next train?!"

"Oh, come now, Zoey," he said condescendingly. "I was just… playing around with him."

"Yeah, right," snorted Boxhill, "and I'm a dancing cow…"

"Our controller could put you on maintenance trains if you hang about here too long," smirked Zoey.

"Hmph!" Charleston slipped away.

"I'm sorry about him," said Zoey, turning to me. "I promise that Charleston's the exception and not the rule among our class. I'm Zoey, by the way. What's your name?"

"I… I don't have a name," I sighed. "My number, 107, is all I'm known as."

"That's a shame," sympathized Zoey. "Surely all engines ought to be given names!"

"Not my class," I sighed. "You and Boxhill are so lucky."

"Never mind, 107," assured Boxhill. "I'm sure that as long as you manage to prove yourselves to the railway crews and passengers, you'll all be given names."

"Thank you, Boxhill," I smiled.

Some time later, Charleston and I were temporarily transferred to assist with shunting duties at Southampton docks on the London and South Western Railway. We were also joined by two of their own tank engines called Lily and Adam, an O2 and Radial tank, respectively. Thankfully, unlike Charleston, both Lily and Adam were friendly and supportive; Lily even acted as an honorary big sister to me.

"There you are, 107," she smiled. "Just move those trucks gently into position."

"And… there!" I shunted them under a nearby crane. "I did it! Thank you, Lily."

"Just remember, my friend," said Lily. "Always look after the people, engines and rolling stock on the railway."

"And they will look after you as well," added Adam. "Keep your steam up, 107. An engine's work is never truly done."

"Unless they become worthless scrap metal!"

"Oh, for the love of…" groaned Adam.

"What do you want now?" muttered Lily; Charleston was bustling in with a train of his own.

"Oh, just checking up on the little runt," smirked Charleston. "Since you two are being far too soft on him."

"Really, now?" remarked Adam. "Last I checked, 107 is taller than you. Maybe that makes you the runt."

Charleston spluttered in indignation while the rest of us couldn't help but laugh.

"You lot just wait!" he finally snapped after regaining composure. "One of these days, you'll be laughing on the other side of your smokeboxes!"

Oh, I could've said the exact same thing regarding Charleston! He was so cross over being shown up by Adam's remark, that he made lots of mistakes around the docks, and Adam, Lily and I had to clean up his messes. One time… heh, well…

"Lily! Have you seen my brake van?" asked an H15.

"I don't think so, Easton," said Lily. "All the other ones are assigned to other goods trains, I'm afraid."

"There could be one in the far siding," called Adam. "I'll check!"

"You're in luck!" I called up. "This one's from a goods train that just arrived."

"Perfect!" Easton smiled. "Thank you, youngster. I should be able to make up for lost time." Easton had it coupled to the back of his train. As the guard made last minute adjustments, Charleston loomed from behind.

"Oh, blast…" he muttered. "I forgot this train was on the schedule…"

"Aha!" cried Easton. "So you were the incompetent buffoon who delayed my train!"

"Er… I can explain–"

"This is wartime!" snapped Easton. "We do not mess around like–" I will cut him off there because there are things said that I dare not repeat.

Mind you, getting on Easton's bad side was nothing compared to when Charleston challenged an ocean-going tug by the name of Hercules to a tug of war… and lost! Ha, Lily was right; he never learned from his mistakes, although I do wish Hercules had pulled Charleston into the sea. Would've saved us a lot of trouble!

Eventually, the harbormaster was so fed up with Charleston's bad behavior that he was sent back to Brighton in disgrace, while another engine would take his place at Southampton.

"My stars, Lily and Adam," called a female voice. "Is that you? And 107, it's great to see you again."

"Zoey!" I cried. "Oh, am I glad to see you."

"Welcome, Zoey," smiled Lily.

"Good to see that they finally sent the right engine down here," grinned Adam.

"Yes, I can't believe that they'd send Charleston, of all engines, here," agreed Zoey. "I think they thought that some work at the docks would straighten up his behavior, but… evidently not."

"Never mind, Zoey," I said. "Come on; you can meet our new friend before he leaves."

"Who is it?" asked Zoey. "Is he another South Western engine?"

"No, he's an ocean-going tug called Hercules," I explained. "I think you'll like him." At the time, Hercules was on shore leave, having recently saved the USS Clearwater from being sunk by a German U-boat, with the aid of another ocean-going tug called Venus. Hercules was also aided on shore leave by the commanding officer of the Clearwater, Captain Patrick Allen Star.

It wasn't long before Zoey, Adam, Lily and I arrived at where Hercules stood along with Captain Star and another tug called Meridian. After a laugh about Charleston's expense, I quickly made introductions.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, m'dear," he smiled.

"Oh…" Zoey gave a giggle. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

"He calls everyone that," smiled Meridian. "Don't take it too personally."

"Understood, Meridian," said Zoey. "What brings you all the way here, Hercules?"

"Unfortunately, Zoey, it's this terrible war…" sighed the ocean-going tug.

"I see…" Zoey sighed. "It's been taking a big toll on the world as each day passes. But we'll all do our part to make sure others pull though."

"You know, 107," said Captain Star, "you remind me of my son, Thomas Allen Star. How would you like to be named after him?"

I was surprised by the request. Me?! Given a name, right now? I glanced back at the others, making sure I wasn't dreaming. Lily, Adam and Zoey all gave me encouraging smiles.

"That would be a nice idea," I smiled. "But perhaps just Thomas for short."

"Very well," Captain Star said with a smile. "I hereby christen you 'Thomas the Tank Engine'."

The other engines and the tugs all gave out whistles for me… I was no longer just 107, but Thomas.

Some time after my naming ceremony at Waterloo station, all of my siblings would get names of their own. 100 and 101, the oldest of us, were named Robert and Alice, after Mr. Billinton's parents; 102 took on his namesake, Lawson. 103 was named Marsh, after the engineer who served between Mr. Billinton and his father, and 104 named herself Crystal after Crystal Palace in London. 105, the first of us to have extended tanks, was named Victoria, after the station, while 106 and 108 took on the names of two country towns, Lewes and Chichester. Our youngest sibling, 109, was named Emma, in honor of my first driver's daughter. Like Zoey had said, all engines deserve names.

Act 2: More Than Shunting Engines

The Great War had come to an end on November 11, 1918, and a few years later, in 1921, the Railways Act had been enacted by the British government to group many railway companies into four larger companies, which would later be dubbed the "Big Four". The London, Brighton and South Coast Railway became a part of the Southern Railway, as did the South Western, when provisions of the Act took effect in 1923.

Although ten more of us were planned to be built, there would only be ten E2s built, myself included, and we had all been painted into a lined black goods livery, and later each had the letter B – short for Brighton – added to our numbers. I, for example, became B107, but would later be renumbered 2107 in the early 1930s.

But one day, in May 1926, we received some troubling news.

"Over a million coal miners have gone on strike," an inspector was saying to our crews. "They're demanding higher wages and better working conditions."

"Higher wages?" I wasn't quite sure what that meant.

"Forget that," said Crystal. "We're not getting sufficient enough coal supply!"

"Come now, Crystal," said Alice. "People need to make a living. If they haven't got enough money, they can't buy things to sustain themselves and their families."

"Precisely, Alice," said Robert. "The people need us as much as we need them."

"I… I guess that makes sense," Chichester spoke quietly. "We all have to do our part to keep going, right?"

"That's the spirit, Chichester," smiled Emma. "Come on, everyone! We can do this!"

Marsh, Crystal, Lewes and I were assigned to help with passenger duties between London Bridge, Forest Hill and Crystal Palace.

"This brings back memories, doesn't it?" Crystal was saying to Marsh. "Not all of them good."

"What do you mean, not all good?" I asked. "Surely taking passengers is such an honor for these tough times?"

"Not for us, little brother," sighed Marsh. "Some time ago, before you and Lewes were built… Crystal and I were trialed on push-pull trains."

"Wait, really?" asked Lewes. "I don't remember hearing about this! That must have been amazing!"

"Push-pull?" I blinked and thought back. "Charleston mentioned it some time ago."

"Of course that bigheaded idiot would bring it up," said Marsh, his face now sporting a snarl. "Testing showed that as we got up to fifty, we would oscillate, as would the coaches both in front and behind us, giving our crews and passengers an uncomfortable ride."

"I tried again out of Tunbridge Wells," added Crystal, "but the results were no different. We were no good with passenger trains, and in case you're asking, we're no better with goods trains either! Three axles of braking power plus loose coupled wagons equals disaster."

"So… we're only good for shunting and nothing else?" I sounded very disappointed upon hearing what Marsh and Crystal had just revealed.

"But we're still pretty darn good at it!" said Lewes, trying to reassure me. "At least we're not spending our days stuck in the sheds with nothing to do but stare at the walls."

"It just isn't fair!" I cried. "Why haven't they done anything to improve our performance so that we're not just shunting engines?!"

"It's that war and this strike, Thomas," explained Marsh. "It's a very desperate time… and people don't make the best decisions."

"I heard about the South Eastern main line being run on something called electricity," said Crystal, "and the higher-ups are planning to electrify the whole system in the future."

"Engines powered by electricity?" I didn't like the sound of that; it sounded rather alien, as if it was a railway system from another planet. "They wouldn't get rid of us that quickly, would they?"

"Ha! It'd be decades before they even thought about it!" remarked Lewes. "Don't worry too much about it, Thomas; we'll be fine." At the time, I hoped that he was right.

The four of us all did our best on passenger duties during this strike despite our faults. I must say, despite being assigned as a shunting engine most of the time, it was very refreshing to take passengers out on the main line for a change.

"Come along," I called to the coaches. "Let's see what the day has in store." I steadily picked up speed, looking at the stations flashing by.

"Ooh!" called a coach. "Not a bad start to the run. Have you done this before?"

"First time, actually," I replied. "I've only shunted in the yards."

"I think you could make this your career, young tank engine," smiled a second coach.

"Th-thanks," I smiled shyly. However, as I entered the next station, a loud wheeshing noise was heard.

"Oh no!" I cried. "I hope it's not what I think…"

"You're out of coal, Thomas," sighed the driver. "I swear, you consume it far too quickly while pulling trains."

"Oh…" If I had a head, I would have shook it. Another engine was called to help us and our passengers. But out of all the engines they had to send, I still don't know why they didn't send for Zoey instead…

"Out of steam, are you?" Charleston sneered as he backed roughly onto me. "I'm not surprised!"

"Hey! Watch it!" I cried; the coaches yelped too.

"Just like it was twelve years ago," continued Charleston. "You can't even take passengers without anything going wrong due to your boiler design!"

"At least Thomas was gentle!" retorted a third coach. "You can't handle coaches to save your life!"

"Nobody asked you for your opinion, garden shed!"

"You'd better treat the coaches with respect!" I growled. "They are a vital part of our livelihood!"

"Like you're one to talk about what's useful and what isn't!" Charleston retorted. I didn't bother saying anything in response to that remark; a brick wall would've been much easier to have a conversation with.

After that disaster, I was able to talk with the coaches. The poor dears were still very upset with Charleston.

"I'm sorry he talked to you all in such a horrid manner," I said. "And for running out of steam as I did…"

"Don't apologize for something outside of your control, dear," said the first coach. "You did very well to get as far as you did."

"Quite right," agreed the second coach. "The passengers were complimenting you on the smooth journey."

"And that Charleston shouldn't be allowed anywhere near us," said the third coach. "Ohh, he's an utter menace to the rails!"

"He'll get his own, everyone," I assured them. "Don't worry."

The coal strike had been called off after only eight days, but some workers maintained resistance before being forced to return to work. It was fun being able to take passengers despite poor steaming, but soon, we had to return to shunting duties.

"Keep your steam up, dear!" called the first coach.

"We'll miss you!" said the second.

"I will too," I called back.

"How was it, Thomas?" asked Emma. "Was it as magical as you thought it would be?"

"The coaches were lovely, Emma," I smiled. "And those sights… passengers waving, the countryside rolling by, busy towns… I could do it forever."

"Oh, it must be beautiful!" she grinned. "Do you think I could do it one day too?"

"Well… it wasn't perfect, Emma," I said. "I… ran out of coal about halfway to the terminus."

"Oh, that's not so bad. At least you gave the passengers a smooth ride."

"I guess so," I said. "Maybe under the right conditions, you can do it too."

"Oh, I'd love that!" Emma beamed. "And maybe we can do it together!"

"Well… two smokeboxes are better than one," I replied. "Speaking of which… let's get this yard under control."

"I bet I can get the trucks on that side of the yard arranged faster than you can!"

"You're on, Em!" I called. "On your marks… get set… go!"

Emma and I raced around the yard, quickly shunting trains into position.

"That's five on my side!" Emma called.

"Six over here!" I cried. "Beat that!"

"Gladly!" Emma quickly grabbed another wagon and rushed forward.

"Whoa!" cried Victoria. "Watch out, little sis!"

"Sorry, Victoria!" called Emma. She stopped a bit too sharply, which caused the coupling of the wagon to snap and roll away from her.

"Careful there, Em!" said Victoria. "That wagon could have been damaged."

"Oh dear… sorry…"

I'm afraid to say that it was; the coupling had come clean off. This was why we had to be careful in braking, or else wagons would break away and roll.

"Oh, look; another goof up by another E2!" remarked Charleston. "There's a big surprise…(!)"

"Keep my sister out of this!" snapped Marsh. He rushed forward and bumped Charleston straight off the line.

"OH!" snorted Charleston. "You'll pay for that, 2103!"

"You'll pay for every last word you said!"

"Marsh!" called Lewes. "I know we love our siblings, but we mustn't stoop to that bully's level."

Marsh bit his lip. "Oh… Lewes… you're right… what will our controller say to this mess?"

He found out soon enough.

"I can understand being angry at such inexcusable words from bullies like Charleston," the controller said, "but that still does not justify stooping to their level. Two wrongs never make a right."

"I know, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"And as for you…" Our controller turned to Charleston, who gulped. "If I hear anymore about you harassing and bullying other engines, I may consider selling you to a circus. They're always looking for clowns to entertain people."

"He's more likely to frighten the kids than entertain them," Emma giggled. "Even without clown makeup on!" It took all of my restraint to keep myself from laughing out loud at the idea.

As the decade drew to a close, the Great Depression hit the world following the stock market crash in New York in America. But by 1936, we were making a recovery, and it was at a time that railway technology was reaching its peak. The London and North Eastern and London, Midland and Scottish Railways were in a fierce battle of who could make the fastest steam engine in the United Kingdom, while last year, the Great Western Railway celebrated its centenary.

Meanwhile, here on the Southern, electrification was in full swing, and chief mechanical engineer Richard Maunsell was approaching retirement, later to be superseded by Oliver Bulleid. Maunsell's last design prior to the Great Depression was the Z class eight-coupled tank engines. They were amongst the Southern's most powerful tank engines, but for one engine in particular, numbered 952, that went straight to her smokebox, as if she was better than everyone else, myself and my siblings included.

"I'm surprised they've kept you around for this long as shunting engines," she would sneer whenever she saw one or some of us. "After all, my class is bigger, stronger, and far superior to you lot. You should've made like those I2s, and found yourselves a scrapyard!"

"Bigger isn't always better," huffed Lawson. "And besides, the I2s were generous enough to give up their boilers to keep us going."

"I still don't think that was a nice idea…" said Chichester. "They died and… well…"

"I know, little sister," soothed Victoria. "But at the very least, they faced their deaths with dignity."

"They're at the Great Railway Above now," added Alice, "watching over us like angels."

"Oh," said Chichester. "Do you think they have angel wings and halos?"

"It's possible," I smiled.

"They might give you a big scare, Sandra," smirked Emma, "for being such a selfish snake." We all had a good chuckle at that, except, of course, for Sandra. At that moment, Charleston puffed in, seething with fury.

"I don't believe this!" he ranted. "Those oversized worms have taken over my local commuter services, and now I have to do shunting alongside those runts!"

"I'm pretty sure worms can't carry people," said Emma. "They'd be squished!"

"I think he's referring to the electric engines," said Marsh.

"Ooooooh," Emma realized. "Are they friendly engines?"

"Don't waste your puff on these unnatural creatures," snapped Charleston. "I call them worms cause they're like burrowers in the ground! You can cut them in half, and they won't feel a thing!"

"Oh, yes, why do they have to waste valuable money on these monstrosities when they could be building more engines like myself?" agreed Sandra. "The sooner we're rid of these electric abominations, the better!"

"But aren't they still engines like we are?" asked Chichester. "If we wished them gone, we'd be no better than those who had us replaced."

"Oh, stop being such a clueless fool!" snapped Charleston. "Those new fangled monsters don't care who they replace so long as they get our jobs in the end!"

"They wouldn't take over our shunting duties!" I argued. "They're made to pull passengers like the bigger engines, except they're restricted to where they can go."

"Well, in that case," sniffed Sandra, "they're at least capable of doing it… unlike you lot!" She and Charleston both laughed at this. I tried not to show it, but it did cut deep.

Because the E4s had been demoted to shunting duties, my siblings and I were transferred to the marshaling yard at Herne Hill, around Victoria station and at Dover harbor. The engines we were replacing were elderly Kirtley T class engines from the former London, Chatham and Dover Railway.

"Wow, we're working near the station Victoria's named after!" Emma said excitedly. "I'll bet you anything she's super excited!"

"Well, maybe a little," Victoria said modestly. "I do feel sorry for those we're taking over for."

"Are they just… getting transferred?" asked Chichester quietly.

"I… don't think so, Chichester," Robert admitted. "Given their age, it's likely that there's only one fate for them…" There was sadness in his voice as he said that.

"Oh… not again!" cried Chichester. "Not more scrapping! I can't…"

"I… I don't like this either, Chichester," Alice sighed. "The least we can do is give them well wishes to the Great Railway…"

"It is a continuous cycle," agreed Robert. "One of these days, we'll find ourselves in their wheels, and then our replacements will find themselves in ours…"

I glanced over sadly at my second youngest sister. "I dread that day too," I whispered.

"Is there some way we can break this cycle?" she asked.

"I… don't know for certain," I admitted. Deep down, I didn't want to know what would happen if the cycle was actually broken. I could only imagine that the results would be catastrophic.

In spite of our trepidation, we settled into our new roles at Herne Hill quite well, marshaling trucks and coaches into place, and banking trains, provided that we didn't lose pressure. But then, one October day, Lewes and I were given an important assignment.

"What's the story here, sir?" asked Lewes.

"There's a ferry service that will be coming in from France to Victoria station starting on the fourteenth," the harbormaster explained.

"That's a long way away!" I cried.

"Indeed," said the harbormaster. "It shall be known as the Night Ferry, and will supplement the Golden Arrow, running between London and Paris with in-between stops at Dunkirk and Dover." The Golden Arrow, just in case you're wondering, was a luxury boat train that linked London to Dover, and from there, passengers would ride a ferry to Calais, France before arriving at Paris by train.

"So, the Night Ferry will serve as the evening equivalent to the Golden Arrow?" asked Lewes.

"That is correct, Lewes," the harbormaster affirmed. "I need you and Thomas to assist in shunting the boat train coaches on and off the ferry. Can I count on you two to do it?"

Lewes and I were surprised with what we'd just heard; us, a pair of shunting engines known for rough riding, being entrusted to handle a service such as the Night Ferry?! But on the other buffer, we were powerful for our size…

"Yes, sir," we affirmed.

"Excellent," smiled the harbormaster. "I know you two won't let us down."

When the Night Ferry service began, Lewes and I had to take care when shunting the coaches so we didn't disturb the passengers. Amazingly, we managed our job without problems, but one night, there was trouble. A group of passengers were waiting anxiously on the platform.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"W-we missed our ride home," shivered a passenger, "and we don't know when the next train will be."

"We must do something to help them, Lewes," I said. "We can't just leave them freezing!"

"There's one thing for it," said Lewes. "Thomas, we need to find some coaches."

"Are you sure we can do that?" I asked. "Passenger trains didn't do so well for us last time–"

"We have to try at least!" insisted Lewes. "Come on, little brother. Little engines can do big things."

Little engines can do big things. Those six words said by my closest brother in terms of age would stick with me for years to come. With an affirmative whistle, we gathered some coaches, brought them to the platform and coupled up in front.

"Get on board quickly, please!" I called to the passengers. "We'll get you home, no matter what!"

"Thank you, little engines," smiled a passenger, and they boarded the train. With that, the guard blew the whistle, and Lewes and I set off.

"Come on, come on!" I puffed.

"We'll do it, we'll do it!" Lewes responded.

It was a beautiful autumn evening as Lewes and I took the stranded passengers along the main line. I was feeling exhilarated at being able to pull passengers for the first time in ages. An owl hooted and crickets chirped as we flew by.

"It's not so bad heading out at night," I commented. "In fact… it feels really nice."

"It does feel peaceful, Thomas," Lewes smiled. "I like it… Wish we could do it more often…"

"Maybe," I said, "if there's good things to be said about this, we can finally prove that we're more than just shunting engines."

With the two of us pulling together, we managed to reach the station with no incident. Passengers poured out of the coaches to thank us for our assistance.

"We were afraid that we'd be walking for miles in such cold weather!" they said. Lewes and I couldn't have felt prouder.

The rest of our siblings were proud of us as well when they heard about it.

"Wow, you two!" cried Emma. "I'm so glad you got those passengers home!"

"Thanks, little sister," I smiled.

"Do you think we can finally take more passenger trains now?" she asked. "I want to help more people on the railway!"

"I sure hope so," said Victoria. "That does sound like a lot of fun!"

"So you hope to take passenger trains more often all because two of your siblings succeeded in bringing some people home?" sneered a voice. "Why bother wasting resources on you lot?"

"Quite right, Sandra," huffed Charleston. "If I had my way, they'd let me and my siblings back on commuter services instead of trying to 'modernize' with those stupid electric engines! I mean, honestly–"

"That's enough from you two!" I shouted, puffing forwards a little. "Lewes and I did more to help our passengers that one night than either of you have done in your entire working lives! Ever since we've met you two, all you've done is put us down because of mechanical faults that we can't control! Well, here's a newsflash for you – your designs are not perfect either! No engine's is! And if all you want to do is drag someone down, just take your sorry bunkers somewhere else!"

For once, Charleston and Sandra were left completely speechless. Heh, the looks on their faces was priceless! Without another word, they puffed away.

"You tell them, Thomas!" cheered Crystal. "Maybe now, they'll think twice before insulting us again!"

"Good show, little brother," smiled Marsh. "Come on, let's continue to make our controller proud and serve our people!"

And as time went on, work carried on much as it did. Not a lot of people gave us praise, but our crews loved us very much. That was what really mattered in the long run. However… the long run's worst hurdles had yet to come…

Act 3: Wartime Days

"I am speaking to you from the Cabinet Room at 10 Downing Street. This morning, the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note, stating that unless we heard from them by eleven o'clock, that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently, this country is at war with Germany."

I never forgot those words said by Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain. World War II had officially begun, and up until that point, it was less a matter of "if", but rather that of "when". Due to the war, the Golden Arrow and Night Ferry services had been suspended, which was perhaps for the best, as the Germans would go on to invade France the following year, putting the country under Nazi occupation.

Chamberlain resigned from his post as Prime Minister due to ill health, and died shortly afterward. Winston Churchill would take over as both Prime Minister and Leader of the Conservative Party, and would lead Great Britain for the remainder of the war. The Battle of Britain and the Blitz did great damage to our country, but we would not stop until Hitler and his followers were defeated.

With Oliver Bulleid as our chief mechanical engineer, he claimed that he would be designing a mixed-traffic engine to aid in the war effort. Actually, that was just an excuse to build new express engines, which were known as the Merchant Navies. He also designed an austerity locomotive known as the Q1s – a fleet of forty six-coupled tender engines that were designed to be easy to maintain.

One day, I met one of the Q1s, numbered C10, while shunting troop trains and war supplies.

"Careful with those trucks, little one!" he called. "This is a dangerous situation we're in!"

"I wasn't built yesterday," I muttered. "I've been through a war before…"

C10's expression softened. "You mean… World War I?"

"I was built in the middle of it, yes," I said. By now, "the Great War" no longer seemed to fit.

"One of them is bad enough," said C10, "but… ugh…" He shuddered. "I'm dreadfully sorry you've had to witness two."

"You've nothing to be sorry for," I said. "It was just… atrocious, I think Crystal said. Oh, by the way, my name's Thomas. And you are…?"

"I'm Neville," said the Q1. "And before you ask – no, I wasn't named for Churchill's predecessor. I was called Neville after my driver's uncle, who worked with railways before."

"Oh, that's nice," I smiled. "I was named after a navy commander's son, and my youngest sister was named after my first driver's daughter." By now, I'd gotten a new driver when my previous driver got promoted to stationmaster.

Just then, we glanced at the platform. Many young men were hugging women and children.

"When will you be home, daddy?" asked a little girl.

"Daddy's not sure, sweetheart," replied her father. "It'll be a long time before I can hug you again."

"If he ever does…" I said quietly to Neville. "Some of these children may never see their dads again…"

"Times like this hurt everyone involved," Neville agreed. "I haven't been working very long, but… my driver says war is very brutal, Thomas."

I sighed. "Don't we know it…"

Since many men were off serving the British army, it was becoming a more common sight to see women working for the railway, with some being lucky enough to operate us engines. Alice, Crystal, Victoria, Chichester and Emma were especially pleased to hear about this.

"Okay, Alice," said her new driver. "What do we need to do?"

"Well, Eliza," she replied, "first, we need to arrange some coaches for a troop train that Neville is going to pick up today."

"Ah, right," said Eliza. "So… do I pull this?" She touched Alice's reverser instead of the regulator.

"That's the wrong lever, Eliza!" cried the fireman.

"Whoa!" cried Alice. "Look out, Marsh!" She ran backwards into Marsh with a hard bump, their eyes spinning in surprise upon derailing. Alice and Marsh were more shaken than hurt, and so were their crews.

"Goodness me!" cried Marsh's driver (he was one of us who still had his original crew). "No wonder women stayed at home and cooked all day."

"Oh, that's enough out of you!" snapped Marsh. "Eliza needs guidance, not harsh criticism! At least she hasn't gotten a regulator or reverser to the backside!"

"Yeah," added Crystal. "If you keep that up, Eliza may be your replacement!"

"I'll get the breakdown crane…" sighed Victoria, and darted off. Marsh's driver, meanwhile, slunk back into his engine's cab with embarrassment.

"Does that really happen?" asked Eliza. "Your regulator or reverser hitting the crew where the sun doesn't shine?"

"Usually our firemen," said Crystal, "and only if he isn't watching his back while shoveling coal. That's what happens when tank engines have cramped cabs like us."

"And it's usually an accident," said Robert. "Marsh, I understand you're upset with your driver's remarks, but please be mindful of language in future."

"Sorry, Robert," sighed Marsh. "It's been harder to break habits due to recent events…"

"And that just means we have to pull closer together," said Alice. "Ten may be large for a human family, but for an engine family… it's not that big."

I gave a small smile to my oldest sister. "And we'll stick together through thick and thin, right, Alice?"

"Of course we shall, Thomas. We may not be Brighton's best engines, but at least we'll show everyone that we're made of sterner stuff!"

We all gave a resounding whistle at that. There weren't many of us, but we were tight knit, and that's what really counted.

Despite the tragedy that was World War II, there was one good thing that came out of it… the women that joined us on the railway during that time period. Of course, Eliza was a fast learner, but there were some other standouts too.

"There you are, Thomas," said another young woman. "All cleaned up, and ready to go to work."

"Thanks, Tali," I smiled. Nearby, another woman, Whitney, helped to fill up Emma's water tank.

"Keep your steam up, Emma," she called.

"Thank you, Whitney!" Emma replied as the hose was removed. "Why didn't they hire you all sooner? You certainly give the men a run for their money!"

"Apparently, some people out there think that working on the railway is solely a man's job," sighed Whitney.

"Hmph! That's a load of boiler sludge if you ask me," I huffed. "As long as trains can run, does it matter if it's a man or a woman behind the regulator?"

"I'll say that it doesn't," said Victoria. "Tiffany and Rose have been great in my cab."

"And you're a great runner too, Victoria," said Tiffany – her driver.

"We could do this forever," smiled Rose.

Just then, Chichester bustled in. Though she was usually overly-emotional, this time, my poor sister was in hysterics. "T-this is the worst news e-ever…" she sobbed.

"What's wrong, Chichester?" I asked.

"Emma and I… we're… we're being transferred!"

"Transferred?" asked Emma. "Where to?"

"Hither Green!"

"What for?"

"To help with the War Department!"

"War Department?!" cried Emma. "Oh no… anything but that!"

I shuddered at the thought. My two youngest sisters, in a literal war zone?! What if something bad happened to them, and none of us were there to comfort them?

"Can't they swap them out with someone else?" asked Robert. "I'll go instead."

"Me too!" said Crystal. "You two deserve to be in a calmer, quieter area."

"They requested for me and Emma specifically…" sniffled Chichester. "I-I don't think they'd appreciate a so-called 'wartime mixup'."

"I don't want to go either," sobbed Emma. "Why can't this dreaded war stop, and the women still work with us?!"

"I'm afraid there are some things we just can't explain," sighed Robert.

It was a very sad day for us E2s, and Emma and Chichester both continued sobbing throughout the whole day. I was tempted to take upon Robert and Crystal's offers and go myself, but Alice spoke to me that night.

"Thomas," said Alice, "listen to me carefully. I know this is a dreaded time for us all, and some of us may not come out of this alive…"

"That's an understatement!" I cried. "Emma and Chichester–"

"I know," she cut in. "But… even if we can't see our sisters, they are still with us… up here." She glanced up toward her funnel, and so did I.

"How can they… be in our funnels?" I asked. "They can't fit up there."

"No, but that's not what I mean," said Alice, with a slight chuckle. "I mean that even if we can't see Emma and Chichester, we can still remember them. They will always be with us in spirit, Thomas."

"Yeah…" I managed a weak smile. "You've got a point, Alice. Maybe Emma and Chichester will feel a little better hearing this too."

From what we heard, Chichester and Emma were taking the place of two Z Class tank engines that had been allocated to Hither Green that December. And guess which member of the Zs didn't take kindly to that?

"You E2s never know when to not stick your bunkers into other engines' business, do you?!"

"You should be grateful, Sandra!" snapped Emma. "At least your siblings aren't in this bloodbath anymore!"

"Is there anyone you actually care for?" added Chichester. "Robert, Crystal and Thomas cared enough for us to want to take our places instead!"

"And Alice told us we'd still be in hers and our other siblings' thoughts," put in Emma.

"Of course I care about someone–"

"Besides yourself?" growled Emma. "Name one other engine. I dare you!"

There was an awkward pause. "Er… well, er…" Emma and Chichester took off before Sandra could say another word. "Oh, just run off before I can answer!" she scoffed. "Rude!"

Oh, the irony…

In hindsight, I'm not sure why they bothered to have Chichester and Emma transferred to Hither Green, especially since the crews preferred to use the old Stirling O1s instead. In January 1944, the Zs returned while Chichester and Emma were instead sent to Ashford. To say they were glad to get away would be putting it mildly. The only consistent work they were able to get was piloting duties at the works.

"At least we're mostly sheltered here," said Emma.

"Yeah," agreed Chichester. "I'm glad the WD didn't use us very much."

"You two were at the WD?" gasped another voice. Both sisters glanced over to see another tank engine. Like us, she had six small wheels – albeit, closer together – but she had three domes instead of one, and most surprisingly to my sisters, she had an American accent. "What? You haven't seen an engine from the States before?"

"Er… not exactly," admitted Emma. "We've seen engines cross borders from the likes of Wales and Scotland, but… not as far as America."

"That's a ferry's ride away," added Chichester. "Two of our brothers used to arrange trains for them… though that was up to France before… this happened."

"Yes… it is a long way from my neck of the woods," sighed the other tank engine. "And unfortunately… this war is why fourteen of my siblings and I are here."

"That's fifteen of you being transferred to work in the United Kingdom!" remarked Emma. "How many of you were built?"

"Three-hundred eighty-two."

Emma and Chichester couldn't believe what they just heard. "Seriously, that many?!" gasped Chichester.

"Many of us have been sent to other countries like Yugoslavia and Egypt," the other tank engine went on. "I wish we didn't have to be built in this harsh time. It would have been nice to remain home so I could get to know all my siblings."

"That would take ages, given how many of you were built," remarked Emma. "There's only been ten E2s ever built, myself and Chichester included. I'm Emma, by the way. Do you have a name?"

"Unfortunately, I don't," sighed the other tank engine. "Just the number 73."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, No. 73," said Chichester. "Don't worry about not having a name; I'm sure we'll come up with one that suits you."

"Thanks, girls," smiled No. 73. "Maybe, when this awful time is over, you two can show me around your railway."

"We'd love to do that," said Emma. "You can meet the rest of our siblings too! They will appreciate your company, I'm sure."

Emma and Chichester would find themselves checking up on No. 73 for quite some time, and the reason I'm telling you this is because I was told about it by No. 73 herself, and I'm sure you know who I'm referring to, don't you?

Eventually, one day, Emma and Chichester found themselves being transferred again, this time to Dover harbor.

"It feels like we're everywhere these days," remarked Chichester. "I just wish we'd find ourselves a yard to live and work in on a consistent basis."

"Driver says that there's preparation for D-Day at Normandy," said Emma. "Just what is D-Day, anyway?"

"Military term, probably," sighed Chichester. "I… really don't like thinking about the military. It seems whenever there's talk of them, all they're thinking about is war and bloodlust…"

"That's not entirely true."

"Oh, Neville!" gasped Emma upon seeing the Q1. "I didn't know you were here right now."

"Girls, I understand why you're assuming these things," said Neville. "All you've seen is the worst out of the military personnel. But there's a reason we're fighting against Hitler and his regime of evil – if we didn't do anything at all… he would continue to terrorize innocent civilians all over the world."

"That… that would be even more horrible," gasped Emma.

"Furthermore," added Neville, "many soldiers didn't even want to fight. I remember one such man who wanted nothing more than to hug his daughter when – or if – he got home."

"She could be halfway through school by now…" trailed Chichester. "And her dad missed her growing up…"

"What do you think happened to him?" asked Emma. "Is he…?"

"I don't know for sure," sighed Neville. "The war is still going, so he could still be out there…" Emma and Chichester hoped so too.

The Normandy landings of June 6, 1944 resulted in an Allied victory, which was good news for everyone.

"We're now one step closer to bringing those Nazi scum to justice!" exclaimed Lawson.

"And hopefully one more step closer to our sisters coming home," added Victoria.

"I do hope they come home soon," I smiled. "Neville says they met a friend in one of the workshops."

Meanwhile, at Dover harbor…

"Hmm… do you have any ideas for a potential name for No. 73?" asked Emma.

"Why not a flower of some kind?" suggested Chichester. "Some girls are named after flowers. Perhaps… Violet."

"That's pretty," said Emma. "Or maybe Poppy, like the symbol of remembrance."

"Maybe," said Chichester. "If she wants to remember those who couldn't make it out of the–"

Suddenly, there was a loud echoing noise surrounding the dockyards.

"Chichester, the sheds!" cried Emma.

"What's happening?!" exclaimed Chichester.

"Get to safety, girls!" called Neville. "It's an attack!"

Neville ushered my sisters to a safehouse for the engines. Other engines evacuated the area too.

"What type of attack is this, Neville?!" cried Chichester. "I don't think it's an air raid…"

"It must be an attack by the Germans from the sea!" exclaimed Neville.

"We have to get away!" wailed Emma. Her driver and stoker worked as hard as they could. But unfortunately, her stoker mistimed her footing and fell out of the cab.

"Run, ol' girl!"

"Pip!" cried Emma. "Samantha, reverse, quick!" Samantha, her driver, nodded and obeyed.

"What are you doing?!" Pip called. "There's a sea attack out here!"

"I'm not leaving you behind!" cried Emma. "Hurry! Climb back aboard!"

Pip scrambled back aboard and Emma floored it… however, it wasn't quite enough.

BANG!

"EMMA!" screamed Chichester. "Oh, Great Railway Above, Emma! Are you alright?!" She was about to rush out and check on her sister, but Neville gave her a firm look.

"Stay put, Chichester!" he called. "We can't get out there–"

"Sis…" Emma drew in next to Chichester.

"Oh, Em… you're still here," she trailed. Her crew hugged Emma's crew, and they crowded in together.

"I just couldn't bear to leave Pip victim to the Germans…" gasped Emma; she was breathing heavily over what had just happened.

"Emma, your face!" cried Chichester. "What's happened to it?!"

"It… hurts," she winced. "Oh… if only engines could get treatment for… whatever happened to my face!" Emma broke down into tears over what had just happened to her, while Chichester and the other engines looked on sympathetically.

The damage that Emma incurred when shell splinters hit her body was pretty minimal and easily repaired. The scars on her face, however, seemed permanent, but we were so lucky not to lose her that day… Unfortunately, some of the dock workers didn't seem to agree.

"Y-you go and a-arrange some trucks," stammered one, "o-on the far side of the harbor…"

A second one nodded. "We'll be safer–" The first worker elbowed the second. "I-I mean, you'll be safer…"

"It's okay…" whimpered Emma. "I know what you're talking about."

Pip and Samantha gave the dock workers the stink eye, and they shrank back.

"Are you two out of your minds?!" wheeshed Chichester. "My sister risked her life to save her stoker, and you're treating her like a freak of nature?! Would you rather be down an engine instead?!"

"Wh-what?" gulped the first worker. "N-no!"

"Well, guess what?" huffed Chichester. "You're going to be down two engines. Emma and I are going back to our other siblings. At least we know we're wanted there."

"Please," cried the second worker, "we're sorry–"

"It's too late to apologize!"

"…the harbormaster's not going to be happy about this, is he?"

And on that note, Chichester and Emma rejoined the rest of us. We were pleased to see them, and Emma was grateful that Chichester got them out of there, but emotional damage was very deep.

"What will other engines say when they see these horrible scars on my face?" moaned Emma. "How can I even face anyone after that? I'm… hideous!" She broke down crying again; it really tore at us, seeing her like this.

"Come now, Em," soothed Chichester. "You're still our sister. I still love you very much…"

"Not just you, Chichester," added Victoria. "Emma, we all do."

"And you were very brave to risk saving your stoker's life," I added. "That is some serious loyalty."

Through tear-soaked eyes, Emma looked up at us. Not one of our faces showed horror, fear or disgust, but pride. Pride that she would be willing to do anything to save human lives. Despite what she'd just been through, Emma gave us a tearful smile.

"You're the best," Emma said weakly.

"It's what's on the inside that really counts," said Alice. "And you are really kind and loyal."

"Let's continue to do our work," said Robert. "There are still lots of people who need our help to win this war."

"You're right, Robert," said Emma. "I won't let my scars stop me!"

And while she did sometimes get some bad comments about her face, Emma would continue to push on. I was proud of my sister, and all of my siblings, for keeping on going. And keep on going, we did… until the very end.

Act 4: Southampton and Beyond

As I'm sure you all know by now, World War II ended in an Allied victory, and as 1945 drew to a close, there looked to be promises ahead for a brighter future. But of course, life is rarely so simple. On New Year's Day 1948, the Big Four were nationalized to form one railway company – British Railways. All ten of us had survived for over thirty years, and truth be told, I'm amazed that we'd survived for this long despite our faults.

"What exactly is this 'Nationalization'?" I wondered.

"They're merging the 'Big Four' into a single railway," said another voice. Surprised by the newcomer, my siblings and I glanced over. It was a West County Class designed by Oliver Bulleid. "Exmoor here."

"Welcome, Exmoor," said Chichester. "So… merging the railways into one company? That can happen?!"

"The government's put control of our railway since the Second World War," explained Exmoor, "and because of the damage our country sustained, all four railway companies are low on money. Therefore, those up top have signed the Transport Act in order to bring stability to the railway system."

"It's not the first time such a thing has happened," said Robert. "Remember when the London, Brighton and South Coast became a part of the Southern in 1923?"

"There was still more than one railway when all was said and done," said Crystal. "But now? Things will be insane…"

"I guess we'll have to get used to it," said Lewes.

For the next several years, we found ourselves bouncing between various depots across the Southern Region, among which were Brighton, Norwood Junction and Eastleigh. The 1950s were mostly uneventful for us, but eventually, we seemed to have finally found a concrete place for us to work at…

"Southampton docks!" cried Lawson. "This is one of the busiest docksides in the Southern Region."

"Well, the shunting won't do itself," said Lewes. "Let's get to work, everyone!"

I went off to find some trucks. "Hmm… I wonder where those are going," I said quietly. I steadily rolled over to them, but nearly bumped into another tank engine.

"Hey! Watch out!" he demanded.

"Oh, sorry," I said quietly. I got a closer look at him; he was one of the S100s bought by the Southern Railway, and bore the number 30063 on his cab sides. "I'm Thomas, and you're…"

"Name's Nathan," grunted the other tank engine. "Yeah, I know what you're thinking, pal. We don't look like we're from around here."

"Emma and Chichester said they ran into another sibling of yours I think," I said. "No. 73, was it–"

"She's numbered 30073 now," Nathan cut in. "And called Rosie."

"Oh, wow," I said. "Tell her I said congratulations on her name."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, pal," said Nathan. "Just remember; we have our advantages over you!" He left in a cloud of steam, and I coughed.

"Ugh… that was… rude," I spluttered. "I hope the rest are not like him and more like Rosie, if Emma and Chichester's words are anything to go off of. Speaking of whom… I wonder if she's here…"

I didn't find Rosie that day, but Chichester and Emma did.

"…and a child put a rose on my bufferbeam after the air raid stopped," Rosie finished; over the years, she had picked up a British accent. "I was very grateful, and decided to call myself Rosie ever since."

"Sounds to me that child and the others onboard were grateful to you, Rosie," said Emma. "You were really brave."

"So were you," added Rosie. "That took a lot of courage to go back for Pip."

"Oh, yes, it did," said Emma, "although some would rather judge others by their looks than understand them better…"

"Rubbish!" cried Rosie. "Scars are only skin deep, Emma. You did extremely well."

"You did great that day, Em," said Chichester. She sighed. "I wish Pip and Samantha were still working with you. Just because the war stopped, doesn't mean they had to lose their job!"

Before more could be said, one of Rosie's siblings came up alongside her.

"Come on, Rosie!" she called. "This is no time for gossiping when there's trains to be shunted!"

"Oh!" Rosie blinked in surprise. "Violet, it wasn't that long a break."

"Still, the idea of it," Violet insisted. "Important work always comes first before play."

"We'd better get back to work too," said Chichester. "Thanks for the story, Rosie."

"See you later, ladies!"

The E2 tank engines bustled away, Violet glancing back anxiously.

"What's gotten into you, Vi?" asked Rosie.

"Rosie," sighed Violet, "do you think those two and their siblings are… going to replace us?"

"They wouldn't think of doing such a thing!" cried Rosie. "There's fourteen of us and ten of them. They'd feel overworked."

"Well… don't you remember… there used to be fifteen of us?" asked Violet. "Poppy… she…"

Rosie gulped. "Dear Poppy… she didn't deserve that fate…"

"We mustn't let that happen to any of us," said Violet. "Our sister's premature death shouldn't be in vain."

Little did the sisters realize that someone in the shadows was listening in to their conversation…

The next few days marked the beginning of a never ending cycle at Southampton.

"Stay back from us, 32105!" snapped another dock tank; this one was called Franklin.

"My name is Victoria!" cried my sister. "What's gotten into you?!"

"Stay on your own side of the docks!" demanded Nathan. "Come now, Pansy, Franklin. We can handle our own work."

"B-But she was just being nice…" Pansy insisted.

"Don't let their niceness fool you," argued Franklin. "They could be waiting to strike when we're not expecting it!"

"Hey, 32103!" called Nathan. "Can you handle these curves like I can?!" Nathan glided around a rather sharp curve with ease, hoping to get under Marsh's frames.

"You're not impressing anyone," Marsh grunted.

"Oh yeah? You probably can't go around them cause you're so fat!" Marsh didn't take kindly to this as Nathan laughed obnoxiously.

"I'll show you who's the fat one around here!" Marsh snarled as he raced towards the curve… and came off the rails as a result of his long wheelbase. Nathan saw this and laughed even harder.

"Nathan, please!" called Rosie. "That was highly disrespectful!"

"It's not my fault we're more reliable than they are," scoffed Nathan.

"Hang on, Marsh!" said Rosie. "I'll get the breakdown train."

"Wasn't thinking of going anywhere else…" Marsh sulked.

"What are you doing with those trucks, Nathan?" I called as he was coupled up to a goods train.

"What does it look like?" scoffed Nathan. "I'm taking them to their destination."

"You do realize our tractive effort doesn't go that high, right?"

"Oh, come now, Holly," said Nathan. "Nothing a little elbow grease can't handle."

"Perhaps I should take it instead," I insisted. "We do have a higher tractive effort–"

"Never!" snapped Nathan. "You're not taking our work from us, 32107, you hear?! Southampton's our territory, and we'll do anything to make sure it stays that way!" With a blow of his whistle, he began pulling the goods train from its siding, but despite his best efforts, Nathan didn't get very far.

"Oooh, come on, you stupid things!" he shouted to the trucks. "Work with me here!"

"Hold back! Hold back!" the silly trucks giggled. Nathan's wheels slipped, and smoke flew high from his funnel, until…

CRACK! WHEESH!

"OWWW!"

Nathan was consumed by a large cloud of steam! The trucks laughed at Nathan as he went red with fury and embarrassment.

"You stupid, stupid engine!" scolded his driver. "You've gone and burst your safety valve, and now you can't go anywhere now!"

"Perhaps now would be a good time to pull this train?" I asked innocently.

"You might as well," said Nathan's driver. "He should've known not to overestimate his own strength!"

"I did try to warn my brother," muttered Holly as she went to take Nathan away. "Sorry he didn't listen, Thomas."

"Never mind, Holly," I sighed as I buffered up to the trucks. "You tried." As soon as things were ready, I pulled the trucks out of their siding without problem, and they gave me no trouble. Just goes to show that not all trucks are bad, are they? Especially when dealing with engines like Nathan.

When the others heard about his blunder – his siblings and my siblings alike – they didn't take it well.

"Silly brother of ours," laughed Pansy to another sister, Ivy. "Didn't know when to stop arranging his train!"

"Very foolish if you ask me." Ivy rolled her eyes. "It is important we know our limitations."

"I can't believe he made a fool of himself," scoffed Peppermint. "He should be off duty for a month for this!"

"Ah well," said Marigold. "He'll learn… maybe."

"I doubt he will," said Robert. "But we'll see…"

Nathan rolled his eyes. "I swear, I'll get it next time– Hey!" he cried. "You have a lot of nerve dispersing while I'm still talking here!"

Despite the blow to Nathan's ego, there was still some tension between both parties over the next several years. It was almost like something out of Romeo and Juliet, but without the romantic aspect.

"Hey, er… Violet," said Chichester, "do you need help with that rake of trucks?"

"Er… no thanks," replied the USA tank. "I'm good for now."

"Oh…" trailed Chichester. "Okay then…"

"Come now, little sister," said Lewes. "You can help me with the coaches."

Rosie sighed. "Whatever happened here…?"

"I dunno," said Emma. "We're supposed to help each other, not be at loggerheads. You can reach tight places that I can't…"

"And you're able to pull the trains that I couldn't manage alone," finished Rosie. "As Nathan more or less demonstrated," she added with a smirk.

Emma giggled. "Maybe he should join the circus with Charleston and Sandra." And she explained who they were.

Rosie couldn't help but chuckle at such an idea. "That would be hilarious!" As both engines laughed, a song came on from the nearby radio.

"In the town where I was born,

Lived a man, who sailed to sea…"

"Who's that singing?" asked Emma.

"It's this band called the Beatles," said Rosie. "My driver's heard of them through his kids. That's their drummer, Ringo, singing."

"He's really good," smiled Emma. "I don't know why he doesn't sing more often." The two of them began to hum along to the song, just as I came with York, another of the USA tank brothers.

"Wow!" I gasped. "That singer is amazing."

"He is really good!" smiled York. It wasn't just us humming the song; pretty soon, all twenty-four engines were enjoying the music as we were working.

"We all live in a yellow submarine

Yellow submarine, yellow submarine…"

It would seem that the Beatles would be one of the only things we could agree on. From that day on, the dock workers would play their songs on the radio or on record players whenever they could. Hearing it would keep us from getting into any arguments. I'm sorry to say, though, that not everything would continue to be normal for us…

One wet rainy day, Nathan was once again trying to prove himself superior to my class.

"We are the ones remaining here," he huffed. "There's no way we're getting replaced!" He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice that I had broken down ahead on a junction.

"Oh dear…" I groaned. "That doesn't feel good at all."

My driver inspected the damage. "One of your siderods has come off."

"Why did it have to happen just as we were crossing this line?" I asked unhappily. "I hope you can fix it before another train comes."

"It should be an easy–"

PEEP PEEP!

"Oh no!" I cried. "It's Nathan!"

And it was. He was rounding a bend with a goods train when he spotted me. His driver applied the brakes and dumped his sandboxes, but the rain just turned the sand to mud and made him slip worse.

"Get out of my way!" he cried.

"I can't!" I called back. "My siderod broke!" And before either of us realized it, Nathan collided into me from behind with a loud crash!

I don't remember how long it took for the wreckage to be cleared, but I can remember being in pain after the collision. My bunker had been crumpled when Nathan crashed into me, as was a part of my cab. Nathan himself didn't look any better either; his bufferbeam was in a twisted mess, his funnel bent, and he'd even gotten a scar on the right side of his face.

Both of us were at Eastleigh works being examined; Emma was standing to the sides, having helped to bring us here after the mess had been cleared.

"Will you be alright, Thomas?" she asked worriedly.

"I… I don't know, Emma," I whispered. "I… never had an accident like this before…"

"Oh dear…" whimpered Emma. "Please make it through, big brother… please!"

However… the news my fellow siblings got wasn't good.

"Withdrawal?!" cried Chichester. "Oh, of all engines, why him?!"

"That Nathan…" growled Crystal. "When I get my buffers on him, I'll–"

"Don't bother," sighed Lawson. "He's not worth it. Besides, would it bring Thomas back?"

Crystal sighed. "As much as I hate to admit it… you're right, Lawson."

"But what can we do about it?" asked Marsh. "Sneak him off to a paradise where a kind controller would fix him? I don't know if there is a place like that!"

Robert was unusually quiet. "Well… if the parts for us are scarce at the moment… there's one thing to do."

"Robert!" gasped Alice; the others glanced up in shock. "You're not thinking about–"

"I request the Final Firing."

Much like my siblings, I was very shaken by what I heard.

"Robert!" I gasped. "You have your whole life ahead of you. Don't do this because I've been damaged!"

"Thomas," sighed Robert, "the others spent the last four hours trying to talk me out of this. I've made up my mind."

"But what are the workmen going to do when they find out that two engines have been withdrawn?" I asked.

"I've already thought of that," smiled Robert. "We'll make a cover story that I was destroyed falling off of a bridge while saving a train of passengers."

"Oh… Robert," I said quietly as tears hit my face. "Th-thank you… I love you, big brother."

"And I always will, Thomas…" he said bravely. "You have a lot to live for, little brother. Remember, I'll be watching you from the Great Railway Above."

I sadly watched as a workman climbed onto Robert's cab with a barrel of Black Water. "Goodbye, Robert… may you have dry rails and good runnings up there."

Robert silently smiled as the workman poured the Black Water into his system. "Goodbye…" he breathed. His eyes closed and his face froze into a neutral position. As Robert was shunted away to be broken up, I closed my eyes and cried, knowing that my oldest brother was gone.

Only my siblings and a select few close friends knew the truth of Robert's death. To anyone else who asked, we said, "Robert died a hero." And… that bit was definitely true.

When I re-entered service after weeks in the works, I looked very different to the rest of my siblings. My running board at the back had been straightened, and my cab was bigger, giving my crew more headroom; they certainly appreciated that. With these changes, I looked close to how I am today. Not only that, by my request, I was given a different coat of paint; teal green with white lining, along with the initials of the former London, Brighton and South Coast Railway on my sides, and I even bore the number seventy instead of 32107.

"Thomas…" trailed Emma. "Wow! That new livery looks so pretty."

"Thanks, Emma," I smiled weakly. "I thought the black livery would make me more depressed than I already was."

"Completely understandable," said Lewes. "Teal looks good on you. Heh, maybe the rest of us should try getting different colors."

"Nah," said Chichester. "It makes Thomas stand out a bit more. I like it too!"

"Thanks, Chichester," I replied.

"Was Robert… in any pain?" asked Victoria, bringing us back to a somber mood.

"No," I explained. "He said a calm 'goodbye'…"

"True Brighton spirit on his part," smiled Lewes. "Fearless to the very end."

"Let's continue to make Robert proud," said Alice. "Come on, everyone!"

As we went back to work, I saw Winston shunting in one of the tighter sidings. "Thomas! You made it out after all! Did you see Nathan?"

"Er… no," I admitted. "Why? Didn't he come out of the works too?"

"We haven't heard anything about him since the accident," said Winston. "I think he was sold off somewhere else."

Wherever he is, I'd rather not know, I thought bitterly. "Oh, has he?" I said aloud. "Sorry to hear that, Winston."

"Hey, don't worry about it," he replied. "I think things will be easier without him around."

So I hope… I thought again, this time of relief.

And working at Southampton docks after that was pretty much a breeze. However, there was one big event yet to come…

As I was working one day in 1979, I caught sight of a woman and her daughter on the platform. I didn't know who they were at the time, but I would know them very well soon.

"Mommy, mommy!" said the girl. "That engine looks like my new toy!" She held her toy engine close.

"So he does," replied the mother. She and her daughter watched me and my siblings arrange some trains, even bringing one that they were supposed to board. "Hmm… I wonder what father will say about this development. He has been looking for a new tank engine…"

"That green engine looks so different from the others," the girl noted. "A bigger cab and a straight running board… I wonder why he isn't painted black."

"Hmm… I was going to say he wanted to be a different color," said the mother, "but he's probably had a rebuild too. I'd say he's been through a lot, dear."

The mother was right; perhaps more than she'd realized. I had been through a lot my whole working life. And the following day, I got a life changing message from my controller.

"Sodor?!" I gasped. "I… I'm going to the Island of Sodor?" I heard the odd story here and there; something about it running independently from the other regions of the British Rail network.

"That's right, Thomas," replied my controller. "Sir Bertram Topham Hatt has requested you specifically."

"Wow!" I cried. "That's so far away! And it's going to be a great adventure!" I glanced back at my other siblings. "But… wait, what about all of you? Are you coming too?"

"No, Thomas," said Victoria. "We'll stay here. Southampton docks can't run itself!"

"Yeah, Thomas," said Lewes. "I think you earned this experience. Go and have a good life on Sodor."

"Besides," said Alice, "we're always with you, little brother, even if you can't see us."

"We'll really miss you, Thomas…" sniffled Emma; she and Chichester were trying not to cry.

"I'll miss you too," I smiled sadly. "But I promise to have my crew write to you."

"Ooh!" said Emma. "We'll get letters? I love the post train!"

"It is fun to get them," I replied. "I can't wait to send my first letter. I love you all very much. Goodbye, my siblings."

"Goodbye, Thomas!" they all whistled happily.

And so, I set off for my new home, the Island of Sodor, working for the North Western Railway…

It was a very long trip to Sodor, and I traveled many miles. I was going where no E2 had ever gone before, and probably wouldn't ever again. I saw many engines from different regions and even encountered many wondrous sights. If the United Kingdom was really that big, I could only just imagine what the rest of the world was like!

At last, after many days of traveling, I finally reached Barrow-in-Furness.

"Whoa…" I gasped. "So this is what Barrow looks like."

"It does look magnificent," said my driver (my third one). "We'd better rest up for the night, and then we'll finish our journey early in the morning."

"I wonder what Sodor will look like…" I said as I reversed into the sheds.

My crew, Bob and John, came early the next morning to fire me up. I was sizzling with excitement as we were finally about to set wheel and foot on Sudrian soil. Once my fire was going, we set off light engine out of Barrow. The first thing I saw was a large rolling lift bridge connecting Sodor to the United Kingdom.

"I don't think I've ever seen such a bridge like that before!" I said as I crossed over it.

The first thing I saw upon setting wheel on Sodor for the first time was the big station of Vicarstown. The whole thing was like a palace as I passed through it! I wanted to stay and take it all in, but I had to get to Knapford.

I passed through the many wondrous sights of Sodor; the brick tunnel, the Steamworks, a little railway where I encountered a red saddle tank engine and blue coaches smaller than myself, an electric line, a viaduct, a big hill, and even a lighthouse by the coast!

At last, I finally arrived at Knapford yards. Or at least, I thought it was. I didn't know if this was where I was to meet my new controller. I did see a black tender engine with the number five and decided to ask him. It was, of course, James, but I didn't know his name yet.

"Excuse me," I said to James. "Can you tell me where Knapford is?"

"But this is Knapford," he said. "Where are you from?"

"Oh! Er, Brighton. On the mainland," I said.

"Brighton? On the mainland?" James repeated.

"That's where all the best tank engines come from!" I said proudly.

"Is it really?" James sounded unimpressed with that.

"I'm really happy to be here," I continued. "I've never been to Sodor before. But I've heard a lot about it. We've got the best railways, and lots of good engines, but not everyone knows about Sodor. That's why I've always wanted to come here. I–"

I stopped, noticing that while I was talking, another tender engine – Edward – had backed up and was now staring at me.

"Hello? What's the matter?" I asked. "Do I have soot on my face?"

My first day on Sodor involved learning the ropes from Edward. He and I got on very quickly; in many ways, he reminded me of Robert. I'd also encountered Gordon, the North Western Railway's express engine, but my first impression of him wasn't a positive one, as he'd thought that Sir Topham Hatt was expecting an engine that was "really useful" and commented that I'd "perhaps" be that for fetching coaches. His attitude reminded me too much of Charleston, Sandra and Nathan, but I know now that Gordon was nothing like them; in fact, he was better than all three of them put together! But that's a whole other story altogether…

While I was arranging some coaches, I noticed a little girl no older than five years old with a toy engine in her hands.

"Welcome to Sodor," she greeted. "I'm Annabelle. What's your name?"

"I'm Thomas."

"Whoa!" Annabelle looked down at her toy engine, then to me, and then back to her toy engine again. "I guess I'm asking my cousin for a pink ribbon to wear for a week."

Pink ribbon? I thought, confused. Whatever for?

Annabelle giggled upon seeing my expression. "Well… funny story during last Christmas; my uncle Charles made me a wooden steam engine, and it looks a bit like you, doesn't it? I even named it Thomas, cause that's the name my parents were considering for me if I'd been born a boy instead. So, I told my cousin Bridget that if an engine who looked like this toy had the same name as it, I'd wear a pink ribbon in my hair for a week."

"Oh, wow!" I smiled. "That is a big surprise. "Your name was 'Annabelle', right? That's a beautiful name!"

"Thank you, Thomas," she smiled. "There are two coaches named Annie and Clarabel that I was named after. My middle name is Edwina, after Edward."

"Those three are very lucky to have you named after them," I smiled. "Edward is a very nice engine."

"I think you'd like Annie and Clarabel too," said Annabelle. As it turns out, she was absolutely right about that…

25 Years Later

"…and the rest, as they say, is history," Thomas said to Alice Percival.

"One of your sisters had the same name as me?" gasped Alice. "Do you see her and your other siblings often? Besides Robert, I mean."

Thomas sighed. "Sadly, Alice… I don't. When I got to Sodor, I often had my crew write to them, but… they all got scrapped by the Beeching reports in the 80s. The last letter I ever received from Southampton was from Crystal and Emma, saying that they were about to be withdrawn. And it was a few days after that that I learned that Gordon also lost most of his family as well…"

"Oh no…" cried Alice. "I'm so sorry, Thomas…"

"Thank you, Alice," Thomas said quietly. "But as my eldest sister said, they'll always be with me up here." He and Alice looked up at the sky, smiling.

"Do you think my great-aunt Alice is there too?" asked Alice. "And she's met your siblings?"

"Maybe they have met up there," said Thomas, slightly chuckling. "And maybe she's met all of Gordon's siblings too… She'd be one of the engines' guardian angels."

"Alice!" called Annabelle. "Are you ready to go to Amy's place?"

"Yes, mom!" she replied. "Thanks for the story, Thomas. Bye!" Annabelle looked lovingly at the display as her daughter skipped over to her.

"She's this generation's Railway Girl for sure," Annabelle smiled to herself. "Like two old coaches once said, she'll go far."

Epilogue: Ten Years Earlier

"Hmm…" Someone was walking around the scrapyard in the cold of winter. She let out a quiet gasp. "Just look at these poor steam engines… It's too late to save some of them. Curse that Beeching and his reports! And curse those diesels and electric engines for sending those poor souls to their doom!"

"You're right about that," called a voice; it was Charleston who had spoken up.

The woman turned in surprise. "You're not happy about those worms either, are you?"

"You bet I'm not! They've been plaguing the Southern Region even before that monster Beeching decided to cut down costs on running trains! Because of them, I was reduced to mere shunting duties!"

"And my siblings were taken away from an important assignment at Hither Green!" Now, of course, this was because of the E2s being swapped out for Sandra's siblings, but the woman believed Sandra.

"Ah, I see," nodded the woman. "Well… if that's how you feel, maybe I can get you out of here."

"Hey, what about me?" asked Nathan. "You're not gonna just leave me there, are you?"

"Oh?" asked the woman. "And what's your story, good sir?"

"I got into a collision," sighed Nathan. "I was withdrawn without a second thought!"

"Well, the more, the merrier," smiled the woman. "You three are coming with me!"

And that was just the beginning of something far more sinister…

THE END?

Author's Comments

This is the big one, folks; the seventieth Between the Lines story! And I do mean big as the document that it was written on is over forty pages in length. Being split into four acts, the whole thing (except for the final two scenes) has been told through Thomas' point of view. Eight of his siblings have been given names which are connected to the London, Brighton and South Coast Railway in some way; Robert and Alice are named for L. B. Billinton's parents, and Lawson for Billinton himself, whereas Marsh is named for the engineer who served between the two Billintons; Douglas E. Marsh. Crystal, Victoria, Lewes and Chichester are all named after stations or county towns near the LBSC, with the latter also sharing the name of an old OC of Rachel's. The youngest E2, Emma, is the only other one besides Thomas whose name doesn't follow that naming convention, and she is based upon an OC of the same name by Aaron Cottrell who appears in the twelfth chapter of Thomas and Emily's Relationship, which can be found on his page if you haven't read it already. Here, not only is Emma a more prominent character, she also gets to know Thomas better before the inevitable end of the E2s. Chichester and Emma are especially prominent in the third act, with their subplot following that of the real life 2108 and 2019.

Of course, it's not just the E2s that get attention; also making appearances are Boxhill, Zoey the E4 (an old OC of mine), Easton the H15 (sadly, he was scrapped along with his siblings), Lily and Adam from Sodor: The Early/Modern Years, as well as Captain Star II, Hercules and Meridian, as depicted in TUGS: The Bigg City Chronicles. Two other OCs of mine also appear as antagonists - Charleston the E4 and Sandra the Z class tank engine, with the former being reworked from Thomas' black sheep brother to the biggest bully that the E2s have had to face. Charleston is practically Draco Malfoy to Thomas' Harry Potter, with Sandra more or less in the part of Pansy Parkinson. For the World War II portion of the story, Neville makes an appearance, despite being one of the worst-written characters of the Hit Era with nothing going for him. Here, he's a lot more active in providing an explanation as to why the United Kingdom is fighting Nazi Germany, and even helping with troop trains (albeit only mentioned and not seen). Rosie and her siblings also become more prominent in the second half, particularly Nathan, who spreads tall tales about the E2s possibly replacing the S100s at Southampton docks, which leads to both groups working together through clenched teeth. This serves as a foreshadowing for Nathan being one of Percy's tormentors in The Adventure Continues, as well as his eventual acquisition into the Anti-Diesel Electric League Revolution before eventually defecting. The names of the S100s working at Southampton are as follows: Franklin, Holly, Nathan, Violet, Ivy, Pansy, Marigold, Peppermint, Winston, Dwight, Harry, York, Rosie and Washington, plus Poppy the spare.

The real No. 36003, of which Nathan is based upon, was the first S100 to be withdrawn, but the full details regarding it are not known. In addition to No. 32107 being the first E2 to be withdrawn, it built upon the idea that both Thomas and Nathan would be withdrawn together after an accident; it also provided explanation as to why Thomas' running board would only be dipped at the front, as well as why he ends up in a teal green livery when we first see him in The Adventure Begins. There's also the tragic layer of Robert giving up his own parts to prevent Thomas from being scrapped, and thus, you can draw an obvious conclusion as to how I feel about Timothy the so-called "Ghost Train", one of the most overrated and overused OCs in the fandom. And yes, I know that we've played with real life history in the fourth act and such a series of events would not have happened in actuality, but frankly, I don't really care. Who says things have to follow actuality 100%? To me, this is less about keeping things 100% factual and more about the storytelling and pacing (just ask Lin-Manuel Miranda). Sometimes, you have to take a bit of creative license for the sake of storytelling and suspend some disbelief.

Anyway, I always knew that the endgame would be that we tie into Thomas' first scene in The Adventure Begins, where he meets with Edward, Gordon and James for the first time at Knapford yards. It also ties into the final scene of Fish Out of Water, where he also meets with Annabelle Regaby as a little girl for the first time, albeit she first sees him while on holiday in Southampton with her family. Thomas' trip from Southampton to Sodor also ties into him wanting to see more of the world beyond the United Kingdom, which he eventually does, but not in the way he expected. And of course, the story had to end with Thomas in the present day (Series 17-18, to be more exact), recounting these events to Alice Percival. All in all, Thomas, Between the Lines is quite possibly the most ambitious story we've ever done for the SeventyVerse up until this point, providing explanation as to how Thomas became the engine he is today, and the events, both good and bad, that drove him to where he is, as well as how it impacted his relationships with those on Sodor. Many of the events that happen with Thomas and his siblings were inspired from the E2s actual history as described in Nictrain123's video "The Complete History of the LBSCR E2s", which proved to be an invaluable source in providing story inspiration. I can't thank him enough for making that video.

Whew! I had a lot to say about this story, and so I end this by asking you all to let me know what you thought about this, as well as some of my more recent publications, as I've noticed a downtick in reviews lately. I'm not sure whether that's due to disinterest or whatnot, but I always appreciate reading what you have to say about my writings, as well as hearing what could be improved upon. As usual, here's what's next for Set 3:

- Life on the Slow Lane - Lauren gets offended when Connor makes a remark about her living a slow life on the Kirk Ronan branch line, but when the streamlined engine makes an emergency stop at Kellsthorpe Road, only one engine is close enough to help his passengers…

- Blind Puffing - While out on a rubbish run, Whiff's glasses break and he has to try and complete his tasks without them. However, he soon runs into trouble with a shipment of bananas at Brendam docks.

- Gordon in a Sulk (adapted from Gordon's Express and In a Sulk) - Gordon ends up in a bad mood following an accident that results in him going to the Steamworks. Meanwhile, Donald and Douglas end up managing the express in his absence.

- It Don't Come Easy - Sidney is rostered to help out on the Norramby branch line, but as it turns out, his forgetfulness and Arthur's fussiness do not mix.