Greetings~ ♔♛

Thanks for being interested

For this other character… well this AU’s self insert~

Miss J:

Miss J began life in 1914, when she was built by the Montreal Locomotive Works as Grand Trunk Railway No. 1544. She was designed as a 4-6-4T Baltic tank locomotive for the demanding commuter services around Montreal, where frequent stops and quick turnarounds required an engine that was powerful, agile, and dependable.

When the Grand Trunk Railway became part of the Canadian National Railway, she was renumbered Canadian National No. 49. She continued serving commuters with unwavering dedication, earning a reputation for punctuality and reliability. Whether facing heavy snow, pouring rain, or the bustle of rush hour, Miss J always believed that every passenger deserved a safe journey.

She came to admire the men and women who worked long hours inspecting rails, replacing ties, and repairing track in every kind of weather. Because of that respect, Miss J is often depicted in human form as a senior railway track maintenance the head hand responsible for keeping the railway safe. She is a lead by example, never asking others to do a job she wouldn't do herself, and has earned the respect-tens.

Here’s something to take a sneak peek read for the far future stories with her in it.

We want you to do the job

“I'm sorry to sound like a broken record, but... uh... so... I'm going to Sodor? Like, the Island of Sodor; in the Irish Sea between Great Britain and the Isle of Man?" I asked, sounding like the sentence itself was one giant exclamation point.

"Yes," my boss replied with a dry nod, in the weary tone of someone who had spent the last half hour repeating exactly that; which, in fact, he had.

"But... how? Why me?"

"Well, they want to invite you to bid on short-term consultancy contracts to help resolve a series of recurring infrastructure issues. Apparently, they think your track record here at CN Rail is a good match."

I stared at him for a moment sitting there in the office chair. "...You're not messing with me while my brain's still lagging, right? Because this is completely insane."

He leaned forward in the chair and rested his arms on his desk. "Your work here on CN has involved correcting recurring defects instead of just repairing the symptoms. That's what caught their attention."

I frowned. "They've been studying my maintenance reports?"

"They requested copies of every major corrective maintenance project you've led over the past say five years."

"...That's mildly unsettling."

"They were particularly interested in your work stabilizing that section with chronic mud pumping."

I couldn't help smiling a little. "That took almost eight months."

"And according to them," my boss replied, "it hasn't required another major intervention since."

He tapped the folder. "They're dealing with the opposite problem."

"They just keep just trying to make it work out by doing just meaning?"

“You are on point. They can repair individual defects."

"They just keep coming back."

"Exactly."

I opened the file again. The maintenance summaries all told the same story. Replace a rail. Six months later, replace it again. Three months later, the geometry had degraded amputation of the track. Three months later, the geometry had degraded again. Renew turnout. Within a year, it was showing abnormal wear. None of the failures were catastrophic. Simply... persistent. Death by a thousand maintenance work orders.

"...So they don't want someone who's just good at fixing track."

"Nope."

“They want someone who's good at figuring out why the same sections keep failing."

My boss nodded. “That's consultancy work."

I looked at the map clipped into the back of the folder. The Island of Sodor. Hundreds of kilometers of railway. Freight routes. Branch lines. Harbor trackage. Yards. Industrial spurs. Maintenance depots.

I let out a long breath. "So... they want me to spend a few weeks… I'm sorry, for how long? -walking their railway, reviewing maintenance records, inspecting problem locations, and recommending permanent corrective actions."

"That's the initial contract."

"And if they like the results?"

"They've hinted there could be additional consulting opportunities."

I stared at the map for another moment before looking back at him. "...I can't believe this opportunity, and that I'm seriously considering this, and flying halfway around the world to tell people how to improve their ballast, drainage, and track geometry."

My boss shrugged. "Some have traveled farther for less interesting problems."

“I certainly mean that that is true but honestly, I never thought it’d be me being able to,” I said somewhat drily.

"Well," my boss said, standing up and sliding the folder across the desk, "I'd start packing if I were you. Your flight leaves next month, and that's coming up faster than either of us would like."

I looked down at the folder again.

"So this is actually happening."

"It is."

I gave a short laugh, more out of disbelief than amusement.

"I spent the last ten years learning how to stop ballast from turning into oatmeal every spring, and somehow that's resulted in an invitation to consult for a railway on an island I was half-convinced only existed in children's books."

"You'd be surprised where specialized experience takes you."

"Apparently."

He smiled faintly.

"They're covering your flights, accommodations, transportation while you're there, and paying consulting rates considerably higher than your current salary."

"...You're really trying to remove every excuse I have."

"I'm simply stating the facts."

I closed the folder.

"So... what exactly are they expecting when I arrive?"

"They've already assembled several years' worth of inspection reports, maintenance logs, ultrasonic testing records, drainage surveys, geometry-car data, and asset histories."

"...That's... a lot of paperwork."

"They expect you'll spend the first week reviewing records before setting foot on the railway."

I nodded slowly.

"Good."

"You sound relieved."

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because if someone asked me to solve recurring infrastructure failures without first letting me bury myself in documentation, I'd immediately assume they weren't serious about fixing the problem."

He chuckled.

"I had a feeling you'd say something like that."

I leaned back in my chair.

"So after that?"

"They'll assign local staff to accompany you."

"As guides?"

"As guides, drivers, survey assistants... whatever you need."

"And they'll tolerate me stopping every hundred metres because I noticed a drainage ditch isn't flowing properly?"

"I've been assured they understand exactly what kind of engineer they're inviting."

"...Poor souls."

"They sounded remarkably enthusiastic."

I shook my head with another laugh.

"They have absolutely no idea what they're getting."

"Oh, I think they do."

He picked up another sheet from his desk.

"One of the people who reviewed your reports included a note."

"What did it say?"

He glanced down before reading.

"'His repairs don't simply restore infrastructure. They eliminate recurring causes. That is precisely the mindset we require.'"

For a moment neither of us said anything.

It was strange hearing years of muddy boots, twelve-hour shifts, frozen switches, soaked notebooks, emergency repairs at two in the morning, and months spent arguing that a drainage problem couldn't be solved by replacing another rail summarized in a single sentence.

Eventually I stood. "Well..."

"Well?"

"I suppose I'd better go find my passport." As I reached the door, I paused. "One question."

"Go ahead."

"If anyone had told me back when I was eighteen-years-old; one day I'd be flying across the Atlantic to explain ballast fouling and subgrade stabilization to the railway(s) on the Island of Sodor..."

"What would you have said?"

"I'd have asked what they'd been drinking," I retorted.

He laughed at that, hard enough that he had to lean back in his chair. As I opened the office door, I found myself laughing too.

"And now?" he asked with a whistle in his tone.

I smiled to myself. "Now I'm wondering whether they'll let me inspect the railway before someone insists on introducing me to the famous locomotives."

"I suspect," my boss replied with a grin, "those introductions are unavoidable."

"...Fair enough." I paused, one hand still on the doorknob. "I just hope I make a decent first impression. I'm actually going to see them… not through a screen, not in the books... in person." I let out a nervous chuckle. "Jeez."

His smile softened.

"I have a feeling they'll be just as interested in meeting you."

"I'm not entirely convinced that's reassuring."

"It wasn't supposed to be."

I shook my head with another laugh before stepping out into the hallway.