Even in the quietest hours before dawn, there had always been something moving somewhere. A goods train crossing the Main Line beneath the stars. A fishing boat returning to harbour. A lorry making an early delivery to a dairy. A little engine fussing over coaches in a country station. Somewhere on the island, a whistle, a horn, or the gentle rumble of wheels had always reminded everyone that Sodor was alive.

But now...

After so many cases of how bad the vehicles on the island had gotten.

The broken frames. The eyes. The sludge.

Now there was almost nothing.

The stations remained open only so information could be given to confused passengers. Platforms stood empty beneath silent canopies. Timetables still hung neatly on their boards despite every departure simply reading CANCELLED.

Roads that normally bustled with buses and lorries lay almost deserted.

The harbour was quiet.

Even the gulls seemed fewer.

It was the sort of silence that made people lower their voices without realizing they had done so.

Sir Bertram Topham Hatt stood alone on Platform One at Knapford.

His hands rested behind his back, though every few moments he unconsciously tightened them.

Across the tracks stood Gordon's platform.

Empty.

A porter quietly walked past carrying a stack of notices.

He tipped his cap.

"Morning, Sir."

"Good morning Nathan."

Neither smiled.

The porter disappeared into the booking office.

Sir Bertram remained where he was.

His father had once stood on this very platform.

As a boy, Sir Bertram had watched him inspect trains with calm confidence, speaking with drivers, guards and stationmasters as though every difficulty had a sensible solution waiting to be found.

"A railway is built with rails," his father had once told him, "But it survives because people trust it."

Sir Bertram had believed that all his life.

Today those words felt heavier than they ever had before. He quietly asked himself a question he had never dared to ask aloud:

What if Father had known what to do... and I don't?

The thought lingered longer than he wished.

A knock came at the office door behind him.

His secretary stepped outside carrying another folder. "I'm sorry, Sir."

He accepted it without complaint. "The harbour?"

She nodded. "They've suspended every remaining service."

Sir Bertram opened the report. Another page. Another withdrawal. Edward this time. Another service no longer able to continue.

Another one of his engines in pain.

He thanked her gently.

As she turned to leave, she hesitated. "Do you think it'll pass Sir?"

Sir Bertram wanted—more than anything—to answer yes. Instead he quietly replied, "I pray to God it does Alice."

...

The Board Room at Knapford had hosted countless meetings over the years.

Budget meetings. Expansion projects. Bridge inspections. Holiday timetables.

Never one like this.

Five old friends sat around the long polished table: Sir Bertram Topham Hatt. Mr. Peregrine Percival. Walter Richards. Sir Robert Norramby. Fergus Duncan.

No one had bothered with tea. The cups had gone cold long before anyone remembered them.

Walter Richards opened the discussion. "The Culdee Fell Railway remains closed." His voice was steady. "There is no safe way to continue operations."

Mr. Percival quietly nodded. "The Skarloey Railway reached the same conclusion yesterday afternoon." He removed his glasses for a moment to run his eyes. "They were frightened."

Nobody needed to ask who he meant.

"They kept apologising to the crews." He paused. "They apologised for delaying trains. They apologised for worrying everyone." His expression saddened. "They've never apologised for existing before."

Sir Robert slowly rubbed his forehead. "I've spent half my life travelling." He gave a tired smile, a shallow reflection of his usual one. "I like to say I love a good surprise."

Nobody answered.

"I'm finding there are some surprises I could very happily have lived without."

A few weary smiles appeared before fading just as quickly.

Fergus unfolded several reports. "I've spoken with every workshop foreman up on the Arlesdale Railway."

"And?"

"They're were saying the same thing." He looked around the table. "Nothing mechanical explains any of this. And that was before... pardon my language, whatever the fuck this shit is now."

Walter frowned. "Nothing at all?"

"No."

"Not even any geusses?"

"No."

"Bio-Fuel contamination?"

"They checked."

Mr. Percival quietly added, "So did we."

Sir Bertram leaned back in his chair. "It doesn't matter whether they're steam, diesel, electric or otherwise."

No one disagreed.

"They all become... unwell."

No one liked the word.

Yet no one had found a better one.

The office telephone rang. The sound startled everyone.

Sir Bertram answered. He listened without interrupting. His face revealed very little. Only after several moments did he quietly replace the receiver. "The airport."

Sir Robert looked up.

"They've withdrawn the last aircraft, Jeremy, I believe his name is."

Silence settled over the room.

Walter slowly closed his notebook. Fergus looked toward the window overlooking the harbour.

"So that's everyone."

Sir Bertram nodded once. "As far as anyone can determine... every known vehicle on Sodor has now been withdrawn from service from whatever is causing all of this."

No one spoke. The silence seemed almost respectful. As though acknowledging something none of them yet understood.

...

Elsewhere on the island, another meeting was taking place. Miss Jenny Packard stood at the head of a crowded conference room. Representatives from the other construction companies besides her own, harbour authority, bus services, road haulage firms, quarries, farms and airport filled every chair.

Every report sounded different. Every conclusion sounded the same.

Jenny rested both hands on the table.

"Right then," she said quietly. "We've all heard enough rumours to last us a lifetime."

A few nervous chuckles answered her.

"So let's stick to facts." She looked around the room. "Our vehicles aren't themselves."

Nobody argued.

"We don't know why."

Again... Nobody argued.

"But we'll not be givin' in to fear before we've done our jobs." She folded her notes. "We'll look after our people. We'll look after our packs. And we'll help one another, same as we've always done." She managed a reassuring smile.

Barely.

"That's what decent Sodor folk do."

Someone near the back quietly asked, "And if this somehow gets worse?"

Jenny was silent for a long moment. Then she answered honestly. "Then we'll face it together."

No one seemed comforted. But no one felt alone either.

...

That evening Sir Bertram walked to Tidmouth Sheds.

The yard lights glowed softly through the mist.

The great shed doors were already shut.

They had been closed before sunset every evening since operations had stopped.

Not because anyone expected danger.

Simply because leaving them open somehow felt...

Wrong.

Sir Bertram walked slowly down the centre road.

He stopped midway.

Removing his hat, he looked from door to door.

"I know this has been frightening," he said softly. "We're doing everything we can."His voice echoed gently through the shed. "We'll find answers."

Nobody replied. Not because they wished to ignore him.

He knew there was no way they weren't in too much pain to respond.

And he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

Sir Bertram remained there for another minute before turning back toward where Topham Hall would be...

Whatever that duty may be, however, is up to how they interpret their "contract".

Take Hiro for example, one of the first mimics to be "tamed" in Japan. His original owners only ever needed him to pull long trains and they expected little else from him. But, in due time, Hiro began to roam the railway grounds and even the lines to keep an eye on the perimeter.

He took on "guard duty" to ensure wild unfriendly mimics didn't encroach on his territory and potentially harm either the other railway mimics or railway staff that he now perceived as being under his care. This is what earned him the title of 'Master of the Railway'.

In another life he would have likely guarded the Lady's palace, as he's naturally inclined to protect others and locations and views it as a part of his duties. An unspoken rule of sorts.

Another example is Duncan, a rather cantankerous and somewhat unapproachable mimic. As a narrow gauge engine mimic, he's a rather peculiar sort, having none of the typical goat-like attributes that are standard to this particular class (something that's usually only shared with narrow gauge mimics who are trained for steamworks and dieselworks jobs). He's a mishmash of traits, as he used to work exclusively in industrial settings rather than up on the mountains.

He's fussy, often rude, and you'd assume he'd be caught dead before he took on extra "unpaid" work. But Duncan seems to have a morbid fascination for locating, recovering and studying historical artifacts. Particularly of the fae variety. Something about the olden days calls to him, although he'd never voice such thoughts. To date he's only mentioned his "hobby" to Rusty, but Mr. Percival seems aware of (and rather endeared by) what he gets up to when hes not on the clock.

In another life, Duncan might have had the capacity to become something more than a mere mimic, but it's doubtful whether or not he would have allowed the Lady to reconstruct him into a higher fae just to tend to her archives (and Proteus would have likely fought her if she tried).

The final example is Ryan who, among his branchline duties, seems to have been appointed as a messenger. No matter how busy he is or whether or not he's left Sodor, he always knows what's going on in the Mainland.

Unlike Percy who's more aware of human affairs dueto his mail runs, Ryan's insight pertains exclusively on mimic matters. The two often trade information as if it were a type currency, which is typical of the fae.

(The video is not mine, I found it, credits to its author)

I recently binged the entire Classic Series again, as background noise while I was working on something else. When I got to Series 5-7, I remembered a headcanon I’d developed ages ago, to link together most of the Skarloey Railway episodes from those seasons. This recent binge spurred me to finally write it down, and bash it into something a little more coherent. Most of this is just me thinking aloud, but I thought I'd run it up the flagpole and see who salutes it...

1951

Just as operations are winding down at the old slate quarry at Ward Fell, new beds of good-quality slate are discovered in the hills north of Rheneas. A new quarry is established to extract this slate, and this helps to revive the Skarloey Railway’s then-declining fortunes. Even so, the surveyors who uncovered this slate are convinced there are still further treasures to be found deeper into the mountains.

1950s-60s

The search for such treasures is carried out as time allows - which isn’t very often, considering all the new developments which take place on the SR during this time.

Roughly 1970

Finally, a discovery is made - large deposits of stone in the northern foothills of Shane Dooiney, of similar quality to that quarried at Ffarquhar. Plans are quickly devised to extract the stone, and the Skarloey Railway is tasked with building a line to the new quarry.

The proposed line branches off the Rheneas Quarry line, passes through a natural ravine known locally as Echo Pass, travels alongside the main Skarloey-Peel Godred road, and finally turns south towards the new quarry site.

1970-early 1972

The line is constructed, following the route described above. When it is completed, trains start carrying building supplies to the site of the new quarry. Some trains are also laid on for the benefit of a road-building company, which is upgrading the Skarloey-Peel Godred road so that heavier vehicles can access the quarry as well.

Winter 1972

Due to a problem with the winch, some trucks break away on the incline at Rheneas Quarry. The breakaway tumbles into Echo Pass, triggering an avalanche which buries Skarloey, who happened to be travelling through the Pass with a supply train. He is subsequently rescued by Rusty.

These events are later loosely adapted into the episode Snow.

Early 1973

The new quarry finally opens for business, and even has a new name - Boulder Quarry, after an enormous, spherical boulder which looms ominously over part of the line. Boulder Quarry enjoys a prosperous first few months, and the Skarloey Railway enjoys the revenue boost provided by the new stone traffic.

After a while, Rusty begins to feel nervous about the Boulder, but can’t really explain why. The others don’t take him too seriously.

Autumn 1973

After several weeks of heavy rain, Boulder Quarry is able to try out its latest acquisition - an experimental drilling machine known as Thumper. Unfortunately, the vibrations from Thumper cause the Boulder to fall off its perch, and run away down the Skarloey Valley. The Boulder causes a great deal of damage to track and property all down the valley, culminating in the destruction of some new stone-cutting sheds just outside Crovan’s Gate.

All concerned parties agree the disaster is an act of god telling them to leave that part of Sodor alone, and Boulder Quarry shuts its doors for good - financially crippled by having been forced to pay substantial compensation to every property owner in the valley.

The Skarloey Railway also ends up in dire straits - besides the damage caused by the Boulder, several years of hard work have just gone down the tubes.

The remainder of 1973

The Thin Controller decides to temporarily close the SR, so that everyone can focus their efforts on repairing all the damage to track and property. The rest of 1973 is spent doing just that.

The events of Duncan Gets Spooked take place during this clean-up operation.

At some point, the time is found to move the Boulder to a new, safer perch - on a specially-constructed plinth on a hill near to Crovan’s Gate, and positioned to face in the direction of its old perch.

That winter, during a break, the little engines tell Thomas (or more likely some other standard gauge engine) the story of Skarloey’s Avalanche.

1974

The clean-up continues into 1974, and the line remains closed for the first half of that year. The Thin Controller hopes to have the line ready to reopen in time for the start of the summer operating season. Fortunately, Rheneas Quarry is closed for the two weeks before, freeing up men and engines to help. Elizabeth also happens to be working in the area, and is persuaded to lend a wheel. With all this help, the clean-up is completed in the nick of time, and the Skarloey Railway is officially declared open once more.

Meanwhile, the people of Glennock decide to treat themselves to a new organ for the village school. Headmaster Hastings personally oversees the delivery of the organ. This isn’t really relevant to the Boulder saga - I just felt like mentioning it.

1975

By this year ,things are more or less back to normal on the Skarloey Railway. One day, Rheneas takes a special charter train carrying a party of schoolchildren from the Mainland. On his way back down the line, he is accidentally diverted onto the abandoned line to Boulder Quarry. The line isn’t in the best condition, and wasn’t designed to carry passengers anyway, so Rheneas has a real rollercoaster ride to the Quarry and back.

Since the children enjoyed themselves so much, the Thin Controller lets Rheneas off for his mishap, but it gets him thinking about the old line, and how he might be able to get his money’s worth from it after all…

Surveys are carried out, and it is decided to reopen the old quarry line to serve as a connection between the SR and the Culdee Fell Railway - the latter being reached by rerouting the line in the direction of their station at Skarloey Road.

 The line also passes through many areas of natural beauty, and so a number of stations are proposed to serve some of these areas. These stations include Elephant Park (above) and Rumblin Bridge (below).

The terminus of the line is at the village of Skarloey Road. So as to avoid confusion with the CFR station, the SR station is known as Upland Station. While not a direct link between the two railways, their respective stations are still a reasonably short walk away from each other.

The reconstruction of the line takes place throughout the first half of 1975, and is completed just in time for the summer operating season. Sir Topham Hatt and Lady Hatt attend the grand opening, having first viewed the new line from a hot air balloon (and then made a crash-landing in said balloon).

To finish off, here is a rough map of the original Boulder Quarry line, the subsequent Upland Extension, and how they both relate to the main SR line.

"Getting Help."

After a while Henry talked to Sir Topham.

Henry:  "Sir I need to stop Mr Percival from bleeding and fix him up a little bit I'm going to call Mr Routh so he can help me.."

Sir Topham: "Alright Henry…"

Sir Topham quietly walked out of the room and Henry began to call Mr Routh. 

Henry: "…. Hello Mr Routh.."

Mr Routh: "Hello Henry, you want me to come over and check on Thomas I'm guessing?"

Henry: "Well… not really … it's Mr Percival actually..."

Mr Routh: " Oh? Uh…. Huh sure.. Can you tell me what's wrong with him?"

Henry:  "I… I think it's better if you see for yourself…"

Mr Routh:  "Alright… I'll be there soon.."

Henry: "Great  see you soon.."

Mr Routh: "See you soon.."

Just one, and ironically, it's that there is no Mr Percival in my headcanon. Let me explain:

When the TV producers finally decided to introduce a Thin Controller in Series 9, they were faced with the dilemma of what his formal name should be. Series 9 as a whole was based on events which happened in 1977 - according to my own timeline headcanon - and during that time, the Skarloey Railway's general manager was Mr Peter Sam. Obviously that name couldn't be used - the potential for confusion with Peter Sam the engine was too great.

So after a bit of brainstorming, he became Mr Peregrine Percival. Over time, the character evolved into an amalgamation of all the real-life Thin Controllers - in the same way that the TV producers had previously rolled up all the Fat Controllers into one.