It's been a few long days for Braedey, but now, it was time for him to go back home. It was saddening for the others that their new friends was leaving, but he knew he belonged to his railway. He promised that he'll come over whenever he gets the chance to.

One afternoon, Sir Topham stood outside of the sheds, with Braedey nearby the water tower, the other engines in sidings or in the sheds nearby. The crimson red engine smiled gently to the controller of the NWR, for he had given him the opportunity to travel to Sodor.

Sir Topham turned to Braedey. "We shall miss you. You have been a great hand on our island." Braedey whistled in response, and Sir Topham turned to his engines. "My railway is running fine, but I believe you need some help." He paused impressively for a moment, as the engines all looked at each other with confusion, and they looked back to the controller. "A diesel, is all that's available. So, please be cautious of any, eh, disturbances." With that, Sir Topham Hatt tipped his top hat, and he left in his car, as the engines talked amongst each other with the news they heard.

"What does 'disturbances' mean?" Percy asked to the others with confusion on his face. He wasn't good with new and odd words.

"That means this diesel is nothing but trouble." James snapped, clearly not too happy about working with a diesel from the Other Railway. He had gotten along with diesels like Boco, Mavis, Salty, Bear and Daisy, but he never got along with diesels from the Other Railway.

"I've learnt a thing or two about diesels from the Other Railway." Braedey spoke up. "Some are rather friendly to steam engines, but others, they suffer from a type of prejudice and see steam engines as inferior to them, even if we've been around longer than them."

"Duly noted." James muttered, but he was still not going to like this new diesel.

A few hours later, the diesel arrived on the island. He made his way down to the sheds, a rumble and growl in his engine, sneering at the landscape around him, wanting to see this island with nothing but cities and depots instead of farms and green fields. He gave a growling snarl at some cows, scaring the animals away from the railway lines, much to the farmer's annoyance and yelling at the departing diesel.

Sure enough, the diesel arrived at Tidmouth Sheds. The engines looked to the newcomer. The diesel was a British Rail Class 44 diesel, also known as a Sulzer Type 4, built by British Railways' Derby Works between 1959 and 1960. The diesel was painted in BR green with red buffer beams, and with quad-axle bogies.

The BR Class 44s were some of the first big diesels commissioned for the British Rail modernisation project and were the precursors to the Class 45 and Class 46 locomotives of similar design. They were originally designed to have a Co-Co wheel arrangement, but it proved impossible to keep below the 20 long tonnes (20,000kg) axle loading limit imposed by the British Railways Civil Engineer. A 1-Co bogie design originally used on the Southern Railway 10201 was used instead. Construction began in summer of 1958, although the first example wasn't completed until April 1959. The ten locomotives were allocated to Camden motive power depot, and used on the West Coast Mainline, although also often seen on the Midland mainline. However, with the advent of large numbers of Class 45 locomotives the 10 Class 44 locomotives were transferred to Toton.

A 2,300bhp Sulzer 12LDA28-A diesel engine drove a Crompton Parkinson GC426-A1 main generator, which supplied power to six Crompton Parkinson C171-B1 traction motors. When initially put into service, the locomotives were fitted with multiple working. They were geared for 90mph running, although D2 was experimentally geared to run faster, and was fitted temporarily with the first intercooled 2,500bhp B model of the engine. In 1962, it managed 110mph with three coach test trains on the West Coast Mainline. This was not intended as a high-speed trial of the Peaks, but to study the condition of the line, before electrification and sustained high-speed running over it. By 1960, the next batch of Peaks, D11 and the class 45s, were in production. These had lowered motor gearing from 62/17 to 57/22, which reduced the tractive effort, but reduced traction motor rpm at speed and reduced risk of flashover. In 1961, the same gearing change was applied to the class 44s, reducing continuous tractive effort from 41,000 to 29,000lbf.

The diesel surveyed the shed, then he looked to the engines. "What are these worn-out steaming hunks of metal here? These aren't engines at all. They're kettles on wheels." He scoffed in disgust.

The engines and their drivers glared at the diesel. They don't take those words kindly, and it really got them on edge.

"Not you claptraps' fault, but your controller should scrap all of you, and should go and get diesels like me." The diesel added, the engines narrowing their eyes at him. "Why does your controller keep you outdated hunks of metal anyway?" He asked incredulously. He shuddered. "What a waste of space. Where we come from, it's all diesel. No steamies for miles, and we don't have to wait." He chuckled mockingly.

The engines were beyond furious!!! They blasted their whistles angrily at the diesel, and it rolled off to its shed.

The next morning, the engines had an indignation meeting around the turntable. Gordon, James, Henry, and a few other engines were mad that this diesel insulted them, and even Braedey had to agree to this

"Disgraceful." Gordon huffed.

"Disgusting!" James shuddered.

"Despicable!" Henry spluttered.

"To say such things to us!" Donald and Douglas cried out. "It's to pay him out we must, but how do we do it?" The latter asked.

"That diesel will get his comeuppance." Braedey reminded the engines calmly, and looked over to the diesel idling in the sheds, which made his steam swirl around his wheels. "I know he will."

Their chance came sooner than expected. The diesel sat idling in a siding as his tanks were being filled. But, unbeknown to one of the fuelers, he had been filling the diesel's fuel tanks with an expired diesel fuel. It didn't look too good, but nobody seemed to notice. Soon, the tanks were filled to the brim with the expired fuel, still unbeknown to the mechanics and the diesel.

The diesel was now ready to go. "Look at me, Thomas and Braedey." He told the two steam engines, who were in the yard at the yard. They both scowled at him. "Now, I'll show you something." The diesel rolled towards his coaches, ready to take the express.

Then, it happened. The diesel's engine suddenly began to cough and splutter, everyone looking over to the BR Class 44, as the diesel struggled to move forward. Then, thick black smoke poured out from his exhaust ports, as the engine now began to fail and groan. Then, with a shake and a splutter, and in a big cloud of smoke, the diesel stopped in its tracks. He didn't even go as far as his own length.

Thomas and Braedey, along with a few engines, all laughed hysterically at the broken down diesel. The BR Class 44 looked around in embarrassment, seeing how big of a fool he made out of himself.

Meanwhile, an inspector wondered what went wrong to the diesel. The diesel seethed in fury, as Braedey pushed him back into the shed. The inspector walked over to the diesel, and he then could see black bubbles pouring out of the fuel cap, and spilling down onto the ground.

"I should've known!" The inspector shouted, pointing at the diesel. "You had some bad fuel poured into your tank." He deduced, and he writes down something on his clipboard.

"Bother that." Sir Topham Hatt said to the inspector. "The heavy train is due out. Thomas can take it, but not on his own. Braedey, will you help him?" He asked the GWR engine.

"Of course, sir!" Braedey smiled. "I'd love to have a good long run on my last day on Sodor."

Soon, the engines were ready to go. They were all down at Knapford Station, four coaches coupled up behind them. Thomas was leading the train up in the front, with Braedey coupled up behind him, and coupled to the coaches. They were all ready to go.

Sir Topham Hatt stood on before Thomas, and looked to the two engines. "Gordon will take over for you once you reach Crovan's Gate Station. Good luck." He told them, then he tipped his top hat to them.

"Don't worry, sir." Thomas smiled to Sir Topham. "We'll get there, and early too." With that, Thomas and Braedey whistled in unison, and they steamed forward out of the station. The cavalcade rolled carefully over the rails, as they headed down and onto the Mainline.

"Now time for a sprint." Thomas told the big engine.

"I'm ready when you are, Thomas." Braedey replied, as he opened up his regulator. "Let's show that diesel what Sodor engines are really made of!"

Soon enough, the two engines were whizzing down the mainline, soon reaching 70-90MPH on the Mainline, and showing no signs of stopping at all. Fortunately for Braedey, his valve gear allowing him to go faster, and he loved the feeling of the wind racing around his funnel and wheels. Thomas loved to race, and he always wanted to pull an express.

Then, the two raced through Edward's station, passing both Edward and his stopping train, and Toby on the other side of the line with his coach Henrietta. Next, the two charged up Gordon's Hill with all their might. The two engines felt the heavy drag of the express coaches here. It was hard work. Braedey's wheels whirred as fast as they can, as his pistons pumped harder than before, along with Thomas. But, as the two now crested the hill, they glided down the other side of the hill, and headed off down towards Crovan's Gate Station. Thomas was puffed out, but Braedey held in and charged on, heading down the Mainline, very determined to show off to that showboat mainland diesel what Sodor engines are truly made of.

At Crovan's Gate Station, Gordon was waiting patiently for the express to arrive. James steamed away with his regular stopping train, as Percy left with Annie and Clarabel for Thomas's Branch Line with his passengers. Also, Bertie the bus drove by with his passengers to head back home after a long day. As they left, Thomas and Braedey pulled into the station with the express, smiling in cheer, and amazingly, eight minutes ahead of the scheduled timetable.

"Hello." Gordon greeted to them, smiling to the two engines, especially to Thomas. "You two are early. That's one in the headlamp for old Diesel." He added.

"He's as sick as boiler sludge, and now sulking up in his shed." Thomas told Gordon, as he and Braedey now uncoupled themselves from the train, and moved into a nearby siding, as Gordon backed down onto the express.

"Serves him right for calling us outdated." And with that, Gordon chortled away with the express, as the two steam engines watched him leave.

"Man, that was fun." Braedey wheeshed steam from his pistons.

"Yeah. I did enjoy that." Thomas sighed, now taking on water from the water tower.

"Well, Thomas. You enjoy your drink. I'll get a train ready for you to take back." Braedey smiled gently, and he began to shunt some trucks for Thomas.

The next day, down at Vicarstown Station, everyone came over to say goodbye to Braedey. It was sad for him to go, but he had to go back to his railway.

"Come back and see us soon!" The NWR engines all whistled to Braedey, who smiled to them all.

"And all of you, you are more than welcome to come over to the Josephine Railway anytime you want. We'll welcome anyone." Braedey announced to the engines. "And this isn't a goodbye. I'll see you all soon."

With a toot of his whistle, Braedey sets off for the mainland, with a chorus of whistles from the NWR engines whistling him goodbye. Braedey was a bit sad of leaving this island, but he'll no doubt be coming back to the island soon. He'd be happy to come back.

But, what about the BR Class diesel? What happened to him? After hearing what happened with him and all the rude comments he said to the steam engines, Sir Topham spoke severely to the diesel, and he'll send him back to his railway with his review to the manager. So, Boco took the BR Class 44 back to the Other Railway.

The arrogant diesel said goodbye to no one, but left two things: a rather nasty smell, as well as a battered broken diesel engine.