Chapter Text
On the Fat Controller’s Railway, there are many engines who pull freight trains. But there are far less engines able to tackle the heavy trains that run up and down the mainline. Murdoch is perhaps the strongest – the 9F was built to handle trains longer than any of the other engines could imagine. Henry, BoCo, Bear and Andrew are also very good at pulling these long trains, though sometimes they need help if the trains get too heavy. Molly, Donald, Douglas and Arthur also pull heavy freight trains when needed – thought often by double-heading.
Through most of the 80’s, goods traffic on the NWR had been down. While passengers had flocked to the island, the economic issues on the Mainland had also affected Sodor. Finally, the most important people (and Duke) got together and decided to create a new initiative to rebuild the economy.
“It’s called the Sodor-Services Initiative,” the Fat Controller explained to his engines. It was to involve expanding several of the island’s biggest industries, including a new extension to the Big Harbour, and the creation of several new factories and mills to process many of the natural resources from the island. The engines got right to work, pulling the long trains of stone, steel and other materials where they needed to go.
“This is ridiculous!” grumbled Henry. The other engines looked over at the green engine. “We are being run into the ground! I can’t even remember the last time I took a passenger train.”
“It was yesterday,” muttered Murdoch. “And I for one like the extra work. It’s nice to be useful.”
“As is may be,” Henry said, “but it just isn’t right. You are built for freight – but some of us should be pulling passengers.”
“You are complaining for no reason,” BoCo grunted. “At least we have work. I hear that the Other Railway is desperate.” That shut Henry up.
All the engines had heard about the problems the Other Railway were going through. There was less and less work for any of the engines, and it frightened many of the engines on the NWR.
The next morning, Henry had to pull a long train of steel from the rebuilt Ironworks to the Mainland. He was in a foul mood, and it only worsened when the engine they were supposed to meet at the end of the line broke down in the yards.
“We’ve been asked to carry on to Carnforth,” Henry’s driver said. Henry grumbled under his breath, but dutifully started down the line.
It was quiet. Eerily quiet. No other trains ran along the line, leaving Henry alone to puff along the coast. There were two lines – but no diesels ran on the other track. It was just Henry and the occasional bird.
“Where is everyone?” asked Henry aloud. “All our trains meet a connecting service… but there are no other trains.” He spotted the old, ripped-up track bed to a little branchline off to one side, and he could hear the whistles of a steam engine in the distance – but no engine appeared.
Finally, they made it to the town of Arnside. A signal stopped them in the platform.
“Finally!” exclaimed Henry. He gazed down the line expectantly.
To his horror, a dirt-caked diesel engine came coughing down the line, grubby coaches rattling along behind him.
“A Sodor engine…” murmured the diesel, staring curiously at Henry. “I wish I were a Sodor engine. Clean… cared for… having work… is there an opening?”
“Is there? Is there?” chanted the coaches. Henry’s signal changed to green, and the big engine began to puff away.
“Is there a spot? Tell me! Please!” begged the diesel – but Henry was already gone.
The green engine raced down the line as fast as he was allowed. He wanted to just drop off his trucks and go home. What was going on? That diesel looked pathetic, sad… unloved. Unwanted. It was… it was begging.
Henry finally arrived at Carnforth station. Three little shunters dashed forwards.
“Let me take your train?” they chanted.
“No, me sir! Please sir!”
“Don’t listen to him – let me shunt your train!” Was… was this what life had been like for Diesel? Henry whistled loudly.
“You can decide who is shunting my train yourselves. All I want is my return freight for Tidmouth.” A hush fell over the yard. A pair of the mainline diesels rumbled over.
“Tidmouth? As in… on Sodor?” Henry was surrounded.
“Bring me!”
“I’ll work hard!”
“I can work with steam engines!”
“I’ll do whatever!”
“Bring me with!”
“Bring me!”
“Please!” Henry whistled loudly, and raced away. He found his trucks, and didn’t even stop to turn around. He just coupled up and puffed away as fast as he could, leaving the diesels far behind.
He didn’t stop until he was back on North Western metals.
“Henry?” Henry jumped.
“Oh! Murdoch… it’s you. Oh thank goodness. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been rude. I’m so happy we have work!”
“What’s gotten into you?” asked Murdoch.
“BoCo was right… it’s horrible over there. They… they looked so desperate. They all wanted to come here… I…”
“It’s alright,” Murdoch soothed. “We’re safe over here.”
Henry had never been happier to be a Sodor engine.