Spreading My Wings: Kestrel's Story

Chapter One: Consigned To History?

My name is Adam.
Yeah, I know, probably wasn't what you were expecting the great Kestrel to be named. But it's true.
I was built as a prototype, to put the Sulzer engine to the test. For a few glorious years I was the king of the railway, flying up and down British Rail's main line with people of every kind admiring me. It didn't matter what job they gave me, I did it all. 2000-ton coal trains? No problem. Express passenger runs? I could do better than even the Deltics. There was nothing to stop me from becoming the most revolutionary machine in the country. Well, nothing except my high axle loading.
Turns out, I was a bit too heavy for BR's liking. Not even swapping out my custom bogies for a Class 47's did the trick. So, just like that, they lost interest. Thankfully, or rather unfortunately, the Soviet Union wanted to try me out. So, in '71, I was boarded up, loaded onto a ship, and went to Russia.
What did I do in the Soviet's care? I was tested rigorously and reverse-engineered, so they could figure out my secrets. After that, they took away my engine, filled me with cement, and used me to test other engines. And just like BR, when they were done with me, they tossed me aside. I was placed on a siding at the railway's testing center, and left to rot. That's how things were for close to two decades. The plants around me grew, but I only decayed. As my windows fell out and my paintwork began to fade, I came to the conclusion that I'd been left to die. Maybe I was a happy memory in some people's eyes, but to many, I was just another footnote.
It was July of 1991 that some people approached me. I recognized two of them as workmen in the testing center, but the others I didn't know. I figured they were there to tell me the inevitable. "When are the scrappers coming, Dimitri?" I asked one of them in Russian.
One of the other men laughed. "Wouldn't have guessed he'd learned to speak their language!" He was speaking in English.
I was surprised. "Y-Yes," I stammered. "I had to if the men were going to ask me questions about home. Speaking of which, what is an Englishman doing in Russia?"
The man looked at me with a spark in his eye. "We're bringing you home, Kestrel."
I was flabbergasted. "Why? Why waste your time with me when there's so many engines that need to be taken care of in England? Besides, where am I gonna run if British Rail isn't going to let me on their tracks?"
"We're saving you because you're something special," he replied. "You're legendary back home! Everybody in the railway community looks back at your time of glory and wishes we could take you back to those days. As for where you'll run..." he looked at me with a grin. "Have you ever heard of a man they call The Fat Controller?"
I'm quite positive my jaw dropped. "I'm going to Sodor?!"
     "Yes, and you'll never have to worry about scrap again. Sir Topham himself has sent the funds to the Russian government, and you're ready to come back with us. That is, if you'd like to."
"Of course I would! I'd be honored!" I know for a fact that I was smiling from buffer to buffer.
"Excellent! We'll make arrangements for another engine to take you to the docks shortly. You're home free now, Kestrel."
I was beaming. "Thank you again! Oh, and by the way, call me Adam."
The man stopped for a moment. Clearly, he'd never known I went for a much simpler name, though in his defense few people did. "Very well then," he said, chuckling, before turning to the other men. "Come on, let's make the arrangements and get Adam down to the docks." With that, they walked away.
It took a very long time for everything to be sorted, and by the time they came back with another engine it was well and truly dark. After greasing up my wheels, and boarding up my windows and doors, I was dragged down to the docks. I was in a bit of pain, in all honesty; my wheels hadn't moved in years, so they were dreadfully stiff. They seemed to drag themselves along instead of rolling freely. Regardless, with some time and a lot of effort, I was down at the docks and loaded onto a freighter, ready to begin my long journey back home.