January 23rd, 1909, 3rd Floor West Research Wing, Laboratory 3, Central, Amestris – Visha POV
When working for the Mythril Alchemist, there was never any rest. Neither Colonel Tanya Degurechaff’s new rank or the new peace the 203rd had won in Ishval had changed her behavior much. Rather, with the lack of constant fighting to distract her, Visha’s commander now had the opportunity to expand on the numerous technical and administrative tasks her Operation Orb Project required in preparation for her yearly review in May.
That meant more work for Visha as well. When she was not training with the rest of the 203rd on honing the tactics and strategies they developed in the Ishval Civil War, she was helping the Mythril Alchemist with her paperwork or fetching information from the various branches of the National Central Library to help her research. She barely had time to think, yet alone to do the fun things she had been used to in the past: to shop, to party, to hang out with friends.
Visha loved it.
Throughout her entire life, her decisions had been fraught with guilt and hesitation. She had struggled to find a place to belong in Amestris, and had graduated in the middle of her class despite being good friends with geniuses like Enya Müller. Until she met the Colonel, she did not think she had done anything meaningful in her life so any time she had any fun, she had always wondered in the back of her mind if she deserved it. How could she be happy while the childhood friends and family behind in Drachma were dead or working in forced labor camps?
‘But now, everything is perfect. I follow the Colonel and I feel like I belong; like I am part of something better, something greater than myself. Just by following her orders, miracles happen. Wars end, lives are saved and my future is secure… at least mostly.’
There had been little “hiccups” along the way. Enya – her aforementioned friend – had not responded to her letters, her calls and had moved from the apartment she promised Visha could stay in if she ever came to Central. It was like her friend had suddenly vanished and Visha did not know what that could mean. It hurt, but she had made a number of new friends in the Battalion and no longer had the luxury of time to reconnect.
Another one of those problems walked up to her in the hallway.
Lieutenant Colonel Solf J. Kimblee gave her a fake-looking smile. Since the end of the War, he kept wearing the Desert uniform: a white overcoat on top of the normal blue outfit.
“Hello Visha, are you here to meet with Tanya?”
Visha narrowed her eyes at the man.
“That is 1st Lieutenant Serebryakova to you, Crimson Alchemist. As the Mythril Alchemist Colonel Tanya Degurechaff’s Adjutant, it should be obvious that I would either be leaving on errands for her or working alongside her extremely important tasks. Not all of us have the luxury of free time as you, sir.”
At first, she had been friendly with the Lieutenant Colonel. He had wanted to know more about Tanya – as any sane person should – and Visha was glad to relate to him her experiences with the Commander. After a while, however, he started being… weird about it; spending far more time working together with their unit than made sense. Tanya insisted he helped in her research and so – while the man was lax on decorum and acted like a con-artist – she would tolerate him, but hoped he would leave the 203rd alone.
The State Alchemist brought up his hands in mock surrender, but his contrite tone was mismatched with his smug expression.
“Whoa… I’m sorry if I offended you. You see, I was just leaving from a little meeting with our cute Mythril. We have organized a few joint exercises between my 263rd Artillery and your 203rd Battalion, the usual: shield practice for you, target practice for us. I was just letting you know that she was in her office.”
Visha tried not to feel guilty for her assumption since she knew the man was being insincere. She stepped up to the Lieutenant Colonel and looked him in the eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re up to, but the 203rd has its eyes on you.”
Instead of an appropriate reaction – fear, anger, dismissal – the Crimson Alchemist gave her a smug look and continued walking down the hallway. Without looking back, he waved a hand goodbye.
“You’ve got good instincts. I look forward to it.”
Visha scowled.
‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?!’
---
Visha did not have time to think about that and got back on track. Entering the newly built office of the Mythril Alchemist, her commander was busy as usual with a mound of paperwork, research material and alchemy diagrams organized neatly on her desk. The smile Tanya gave her as Visha arrived put one of her own face. The discussion with the Lieutenant Colonel long forgotten.
Visha handed over a book to the smaller officer who placed it with a growing pile on a nearby table.
“Here you go Commander. This was all I could find on ‘Aerodynamic Design’ in the 6th Branch Library. The librarian was surprised there was anything at all. Are you sure about this? It seems like every time someone tries to make a flying machine, it looks good for the press, but doesn’t pan out. There has been a lot of news about passenger Dirigibles in Creta a few years ago, but I haven’t heard anything since the war began. ”
The Colonel looked tapped the book she had just received and shook her head.
“Once I brush up on the math, I’ll show you the difference between those toys and what I plan on making. Unwieldy balloons are a technological dead-end. Heavier-than-air flight is much more complicated, but the results will speak for itself. Besides, I won’t be able to keep my State Alchemist License if I don’t have something to ‘wow’ an audience and I won’t put myself on the spot like I did last time.”
Visha tried to think what “heavier-than-air” flight could mean, but could only imagine a bird. Unless the Colonel was planning on strapping some wings to her and have her flap… she shook her head. With the impossible things her commander had made until now, Visha knew better than to question it.
“I look forward to it Colonel.”
The Mythril Alchemist nodded before smiling and grabbing a piece of paper from off her desk.
“Speaking of things to look forward to… I have a surprise for you. 1st Lieutenant Serebryakova. Because of your hard work over the past few weeks, you’ve earned yourself a promotion to Captain. You can also see fit to choose any posting you want in the 12th Division and I will wholeheartedly support you. You’ve certainly earned it.”
The Colonel gave the piece of paper to her, but Visha could hardly hold it. She was shocked to the point of terror. Unbidden tears streamed down her cheeks as she got on her knees and grabbed the Colonel by her small shoulders.
“W-Why do you want me to leave?! Have I not done a good enough job? I know it took a long time to work out the paperwork with Major Weiss but-”
Tanya looked confused for a moment, but instead of the understanding Visha hoped for, the Colonel just looked annoyed.
She whispered “Why are you all like this?” and stepped away from her with a groan.
“Captain, please stop. You’ve done an excellent job as my Adjutant – I would certainly miss your coffee – but why do you want to stay? I gave the same recommendation to the whole 203rd and none of you want to move on. The war is over. Don’t you want to a safe and successful career? Several of you would make excellent cadre for the newest batch of Alchemist Operators that will be coming soon.”
‘How could we be any more successful without you? I would have probably died on some battlefield without you.’
At the realization her leader did not want her to leave, Visha quickly wiped away her tears, stood up and saluted her commander.
“I’m afraid you’re stuck with us. We are with you all the way, sir!”
---
With her worries taken care of, Visha settled into a neighboring desk and got to work.
The two of them had spent the past week coordinating with the dozen-or-so automail mechanics that now worked for them on their Operation Orb research labs were to be set up. There had been a lot of arguing over the past few days on what tools would be needed, what areas should be dedicated to: machining rooms, labs, alchemy experimentation, and even a foundry. It looked like it would take days of intense debate until Tanya “settled” the matter. In her usual decisive fashion, she put it to a vote, promptly ignored half of the recommendations and organized everything the way she wanted anyway.
“It can be changed to something else later,” their leader ordered, silencing any opposition and getting them back on track.
In the meantime, Visha and her superior had been busy with paperwork, mostly figuring out where their State Funding should be allocated to. It was part of the reason why Tanya had forced a decision regarding space: there was a lot of uncertainty regarding what areas of the project would be getting funding at all. What did they need? Should machining get more of the funding now to make more prototypes, or should the labs get more funding for experiments so less prototypes would be needed? In the end, Tanya decided on “the time-honored tradition of out-sourcing redundant work to the free market”. Most of the work was done by engineers and technicians in the city and the finished products were sent back to the automail mechanics hired by the project for assembly and testing.
At least, that was the plan. However, it did not seem that things had been going according to whatever plan the Colonel initially envisioned and she groaned for the fourth time in the past five minutes.
Normally Visha ignored her commander’s laments. Not for lack of effort! She was always willing to help her commander. However, in the past, she had tried to understand why her commander would be upset. As an Adjutant, as a subordinate, and as a friend, Visha wanted to share in her commander’s frustrations. However, she soon realized that her commander worked on a higher-level then she ever could. The Colonel’s frustrations usually were the result of some radical, world-changing invention having not yet been invented or that the world-class Amestrian institutions could not live up to her genius intellect and had failed to give her adequate answers to her questions. All Visha could do was share in her leader’s frustration and hope that saying some common-sense thing might lead Tanya to her daily paradigm-shattering revelation.
This time, however, Visha sensed that her commander’s sorrow was a little more “down-to-earth”.
“Colonel? Is there something wrong?”
Tanya did not look up from her paperwork, instead handing a document over to her.
“Captain Serebryakova, can you give me your opinion on these prices? It’s been a long time since I’ve been to the market.”
Taking the document, Visha examined it with all her might! However, it seemed that even a cursory examination was all that was needed to see what was wrong.
“These prices are… very high, Colonel.”
Tanya shook her head and sighed.
“That’s what I was afraid of. Until now, I’d left a lot of the high-level, day-to-day operations to my mentor the Silver Alchemist. He was far more experienced in these things than I was. I had focused solely on quickly developing the Mark 1 Operation Orb and training to be an officer that I never considered the herculean task Major Comanche had faced to get this project off the ground.”
Visha was confused. This was not a matter of experience.
“What do you mean? I meant that these prices are just completely wrong. 30 Cens per gram of Silver? 100,000 Cens for a compound microscope? Some of these prices are over 10 times what it would be to just buy them at a shop in town. It’s highway robbery! I’m not sure why… could there be someone in Central Command out to get you!”
Tanya gave her a wry smile.
“Maybe you’ll make for a great Industrialist someday. No, of course there isn’t a conspiracy. I have no enemies – at least none in Amestris – and even if I did, this would require a coordinated effort that would be obvious to someone in Procurement or Accounting. The reality is that this is just the way things are with government work. Between requisitions, approvals, certification and acquisition, there’s a lot of overhead and that comes with cost. I get exactly what we want without needing to worry about quality or variance which is sure to make things cheaper in the long term, but this means my plans on outsourcing work to civilian contractors is now up in smoke. This list of prices also came with a rejection by the Procurement Office.”
Her commander scowled.
“There’s no way for us to reduce our budget or cut corners except by changing scope… and we’re going to need to make a lot of changes.”
That did not sound right to Visha, but she also did not have any experience with that sort of thing. Visha was worried for a different reason though. While they could change a few things, this was still a Fürer-sanctioned project with a lot of oversight with many things set in stone. There were few things they could change without causing problems.
“But what can we do? If we fail to meet the deadlines… The project and your State Certification are riding on this, aren’t they?”
The Colonel sighed.
“At one point I wouldn’t have minded that… but I have a goal now and I won’t let this stop me. We have to do what we can and make the most of what we have. Things aren’t desperate yet… I’m sure I can work something out.”
---
February 1st, 1909, 12th Division Headquarters, Central, Amestris – Halcrow POV
It was one month since the end of the Ishval war, and Lieutenant General Halcrow was once again face-to-face with the Mythril Alchemist. With little more than a quick message to his secretary regarding a recent development, the frazzled-looking child officer and her female adjutant were sitting across from him in his office and detailing a depressingly familiar situation to him.
Colonel Degurechaff finished her retelling with a frustrated huff.
“And that’s the situation.”
Halcrow frowned.
“To summarize: because of these administrative issues, you won’t make the deadline for your yearly State Alchemist review at the end of May? I can see how this will cause trouble for us. Any political action we try to take will be killed in the womb if you have… professional concerns.”
It seemed that the Colonel could read between the lines at what he was inferring about her capabilities.
“Please understand that I’ve tried what I could, sir. I want to assure you of that. I’m not bringing this up as an excuse to get out of work! I’ve cut costs and corners, I’ve started experimenting with Stainless Steel instead of Silver with promising results… but the deadline is too close. I’ve made some small progress since the Mark 1 Orb I jointly developed with the Silver Alchemist, but it isn’t enough. To complete the design of my new Orb, I need to retain all of my automail experts so I can iterate the prototypes, but I’ve spent all of my budget on materials and equipment. If I don’t get some alternate sources of funds, I won’t be able to make debt repayments or pay out salaries.”
Halcrow bit back a grimace.
‘This isn’t normal, especially considering the self-evident genius of the Mythril Alchemist. This has to be some sort of scheme… State-sanctioned resources are more expensive, but only by a few percent, not an order of magnitude. Something this obvious could only originate from Procurement. Anywhere else would require so many people that the conspiracy would fall apart… but the Procurement Office is firmly in my Central Faction’s control and she could easily just bring the Fürer down on the fools who would date interfere with his pet project.’
He had a revelation.
‘Ah, that’s why the Colonel isn’t trying to throw blame. She’s trying to find a peaceful means to avoid in-fighting. The price gouging is obvious, but she would be doing neither of us any favors by trying to pin the blame on our own Faction. I’m glad she has a good political head on her shoulders. But why is this happening? Is this the Aristocrats trying a pre-emptive strike? How did they know what we were planning?’
Halcrow scratched his chin in thought.
“What about appealing to the Fürer to… handle these problems or even just reducing the scope? Surely this means the project is infeasible to anyone. I know you, and if you can’t do this on your budget, no one could.”
The Mythril Alchemist gave a sad smile and shook her head.
“I appreciate your confidence in me, but the true problem is that I am not the genius you think I am. I’m competent and have a few unique insights, but it is clear from my failure here that the true talent in the creation of the Operation Orb program was the Silver Alchemist. Major Giolio Comanche certainly never came across problems like this.”
Halcrow read between the lines again.
‘False modesty? No… she wants to frame it like that. She’s willing to share in her Operation Orb’s success with someone if it means avoiding the political fallout and buy me time to figure out what’s going on.’
He nodded his head and double-checked his assumption.
“So if I can find someone to ‘fix’ this problem for you, you would be fine sharing the success with them if it meant meeting the deadline?”
She hesitated for a moment before nodding.
He gave her a pitiful look.
‘I once envied her rapid rise to success. I was 36-years-old when I became a Colonel, but I can see that nothing good comes without cost. There are a few ways I could help her… but my own position is tenuous right now and helping would be like tying myself to a sinking ship. If she’s half the soldier I think she is, she should be able to come up with some solution without my help and then I could keep her afloat. As much as I consider myself her comrade, we aren’t such good friends that I would risk my career to prevent hers from collapsing.’
He shook his head and sighed.
“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. If someone was cutting your budget or trying to transfer some of your personnel, I would have fought for you tooth and nail, but any help I give for this would be a slight against the Procurement Office. It would appear that I was letting my promotion get to my head and throwing my new rank around like a tyrant. I would need specific proof of wrongdoing: doctored orders, incorrect statements, that sort of thing.”
It was subtle, but he could see the dismayed look on her face before she schooled her features.
“Well… like I said, there isn’t any wrongdoing here, so what would you suggest I do now?”
He sighed. While he could not throw in any support, he could at least give a hint.
“The only solution would be to find some other source of funding, or take this to the Fürer. It is in his best interest that your project is successful after all.”
The Colonel grimaced.
“That’s a dead end. Our leader has already done enough favors to me. If anything, completing this project perfectly is my chance to repay President Bradley. As for funding, how could that work? This whole thing made it clear that the military wants to keep the civil sector separate from my project. No. I’ll… I suppose I have no choice but to push for the low-cost solution and pray for better results.”
He did not let his disappointment show.
‘She is just going to give up without a fight? How is she supposed to push a political agenda if she caves at the first attack?’
He nodded, confident in his choice to cut her loose.
“Well, let me know if you need anything else.”
The Colonel got up and left, but her Captain Adjutant did not follow. With a few words, she stayed behind and turned to him with a salute.
He gave her a confused look.
“Yes, is there something you need Captain?”
The Adjutant dropped her salute and glared.
“Sir, you know something don’t you? The Colonel won’t say anything because she holds you in high regard, but I won’t let her career end over something stupid like this! She ended two wars! She deserves better than this!”
The Lieutenant General slammed his desk and pointed a finger at the woman.
“I do not appreciate your tone, Captain! If I am holding anything back, it is because it is in the best interests of the State. Do you even know the extent of the problem your Colonel is facing?”
The Captain did not seem deterred by his shout and clenched a fist to her side.
“There is some sort of conspiracy, that much is obvious. What I don’t understand is what they’re after by trying to destroy Colonel Degurechaff’s career like this? She has done nothing but give her all for Amestris.”
He shook his head.
“No reason at all? No one is jealousy of her rapid rise or her connections? No one would want to take advantage of a young officer for their personal gain? No, the reasons don’t matter here. Let me make this clear, this is no mere ‘conspiracy’ and the Colonel knows that. She obviously knows enough to hold back and not point fingers, unlike a certain subordinate. This involves at least Brigadier General Edison in Procurement and the tacit approval of two other generals. These are members of my own faction that are in good standing. Anyone I might bring in to help Colonel Degurechaff could be in on the scheme for all I know. I would just be tying my fate to hers. I wouldn’t be helping anyone.”
The Captain’s glare turned darker and her hand moved to hold onto the silver Orb at her chest. Her actions were tantamount to pulling out a gun.
“Isn’t that convenient. I suppose you’re saying that you’ve become our enemy, then?”
Not willing to feed into the antics the emotional soldier was displaying, he sat back at his desk and held out his hands in mock surrender.
“Is that how it is? I suppose it would be too much to hope the 203rd could be cowed by a little authority when you’ve proven yourselves to run headlong into machine-guns without a care.”
The Adjutant tapped a finger on his desk.
“I want to make something clear General. The 203rd is the Colonel’s Battalion. Without her, there is no 203rd.”
‘So that rumor is true. That’s at least one reason why someone would try to nip the Colonel in the bud. Building your own army is not a good look.’
Of course, he was smart enough not to point it our to the woman with a metaphorical gun to his head. He gave her a placating gesture.
“You’ve convinced me of your devotion at least, so put down your Orb. Despite what you might think, the Colonel has earned my admiration too. I don’t want to lose her genius any more than you want to lose your leader. While I might have less personal feelings on the matter, we can both at least agree she represents a bright future for our nation.”
Rubbing his face in disbelief of what he was about to do, he grabbed a pad of paper and a pen and jotted down the contact information of a certain individual. Tearing off the sheet, he handed it to her.
She went to grab it but he kept a firm grasp of the note and looked her in the eyes.
“Your violent posturing here didn’t win me over, understand? I already had something of a soft-spot for the Mythril Alchemist. Pull something like this again, and the consequences will reflect on your commanding officer. You understand? Weapons like that Orb around your neck have a place on the battlefield, but you better start thinking a lot more intelligently if you want to survive when the bullets are not flying your way.”
The Captain gave a small nod. Seeing the soldier appearing more level-headed, he released his grip on the paper.
The Adjutant looked at the information with a shocked expression.
“Sir! This is…?”
He sat back down with a sigh, he would need a drink after this.
“You did not get that from me. You say anything and I’ll deny it. I’m serious when I said holding this back was in the best interests of the State. You reaching out to that contact will cause major upheaval… but at least it will be somewhat controlled.”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
As he said that, he realized just how important that piece of paper was.
‘I’m an idiot. Our faction is backing the Mythril Alchemist into a corner! A political activist with a Battalion at her beck-and-call and someone who could personally take control Central Command if she had to. I could only imagine what lengths Tanya would go to if forced. Without any pressure, she invented a world-changing technology. When given a chance to fight and with no expectations on her performance, she helped hasten the end of two wars. If she was pressured to choose between the nation and her self-interest, what could’ve unfolded?’
The Captain nodded with some hesitation. Only now did she seem to realize she had threatened an Amestrian General with violence. She saluted.
“I… I understand, sir… and I’m sorry that I… Any punishment you think worthy of-”
He waved her off. Now that he concluded that this was the right course of action, he was willing to overlook the Adjutant’s insubordination.
“Forget it. I can understand you might be a little more wound-up than normal. After all, it’s Colonel Degurechaff’s 10th birthday today.”
While he might have thought she was shocked by the piece of paper, she looked outright dumbfounded now. She dropped the paper and gaped at him.
“WHAT?!”
‘Ah… have I said too much?’
---
February 8th, 1909, Armstrong Estate, Central City Outskirts, Amestris – Tanya POV
Colonel Tanya Degurechaff sat in the back of a military officer car as Major Matheus Weiss drove her to her destination towards the end of a picturesque country road just outside Central. Despite the beautiful scenery and the rare moment of quiet Tanya had amid the chaos of her Orb program and organizing of the 203rd Battlation’s new peacetime regimen, her mind raced.
‘I can still salvage this!’
The reason that Major Weiss was driving and not Adjutant Serebryakova was the reason for the trip in the first place. Without her knowledge or consent, her Adjutant had somehow contact the Armstrong Family’s Patriarch directly regarding her financial situation and they were quick to invite her to have lunch at her convenience. The obvious course of action was to put her subordinate on probation while Tanya rushed to their home as fast as possible to beg the Amestrian Oligarchs for leniency on any potential insult the out-of-the-blue request could have caused.
‘I can’t have my subordinates acting on their own. The chain of command exists for a reason. Regardless of how serious my financial problems are, she should have come to me first.’
Her tension only grew as they approached the massive western-style “palace”. She could only compare it to the national estates built in the late Meiji (明治) for the Zaibatsu (財閥) elite. She wondered – had she still been alive on Earth – if she would have had a Christmas party in a building like that one by now. He had always just been a little too low on the corporate ladder, but maybe she might have been VP of Human Resources by now.
‘No, I can’t reminisce about the past! I have an emergency to handle.’
In the midst of her silent panic, Major Weiss spoke up from the driver’s seat.
“Please don’t hold Visha’s actions against her, Colonel. She was only trying to do the right thing-”
Tanya cut him off, looking into his eyes from the rear-view mirror.
“That is enough Major Weiss. This is not a democracy. I will not tolerate anyone questioning her probation. Her going to the Armstrongs was a mistake, and I aim to correct that today.”
Her subordinate looked embarrassed.
“Ah, I was actually talking about your birthday party.”
She froze and felt a flush of embarrassment in turn. She turned away with a cough.
“That’s… nothing to be concerned about. I had forgotten all about my birthday – the date is hardly relevant – and the party was… fine. If you keep to a similarly-sized and modest affair in the future, then I have no concerns.”
She noted a certain look of displeasure in the Major’s face. She narrowed her eyes.
‘I’ll need to keep a close eye on our finances. If they are planning to throw a bunch of parties at the drop of a hat just because the war is over, they have another thing coming. We’re in dire financial straits as it is. I will not go down in history as yet another employer that sunk their business with champagne and caviar… or barrels of brätwurst and beer as the case may be with the 203rd.’
The car stopped at the entrance and the two of them got out. Before they could even approach the door, it opened an a number of well-dressed butlers and maids walked out.
The oldest butler stepped forwards. Based on his more expensive attire, Tanya could only assume he must be the one in charge.
“Colonel Degurechaff and party. May we take your coats?”
Not knowing how to respond to the attendant, Weiss and herself silently passed their military hats and jackets to the nearby maids who disappeared quickly into the house. Without a word, the butler gestured inside and guided them through the spacious foyer. The huge room was dominated by a wide, bifurcated, curved staircase with balustrade statues of muscular heroic figures. They passed under a grand crystal chandelier, filled with electric candles and built with more silver than she had seen in her life; a tall order for someone who worked with the material for a living. She felt that the decor was ostentatious and gaudy, but she knew better than to comment that in front of “the help”.
At the end of a connecting hallway – inlaid with wood-paneled gold filigree and floored with a rich, dark marble – the butler opened a door into a large dining area. At the far end of the dining table sat what she could only assume were the members of the Armstrong family who were quietly eating something. She immediately recognized the towering form of Major Alex Armstrong to the left of his father General Philip Armstrong who sat at the head of the table; she had met both of them in the past. She was surprised to realize that they were not the only imposing figures. To the Armstrong Patriarch’s right were four ladies. The one to his immediate right could only be the General’s wife based on her age and resemblance to the others who must have been Alex’s sisters. While two of the sisters appeared to be twins of the Major in physicality and age, the last sister out-of-place in her cute but otherwise ordinary looks. She was diminutive and young, not much older than herself.
‘I had thought that Major Armstrong was the exception, but it appears that the apple does not fall far from the tree. They certainly look the part of a nation-building family. This is not a household of doughy-looking wastrels. That sort of physique – especially for woman – is something that could only come from rigorous hard work and dedication. I know from experience. In my last life, I never did much strenuous exercise, but had a healthy, large figure. Yet, no matter how much I exercise now, I still look like a scrawny child.’
The Armstrong Family had not so much as uttered a word, yet their very presence demanded respect.
General Philip Armstrong looked up his food at her arrival and smiled. He held out his arms wide.
“Ah, Miss Degurechaff! A pleasure to meet you again! The last time we met was at the hospital under less than ideal circumstances. We had little time to get to know one-another.”
‘He remembers me? No. More likely he did his homework and discovered we met briefly in the past. I cannot imagine that out of the had hundreds of visits like that after the victory over Creta under his command, he would remember a lowly Major who blundered her first assignment. Unlike the Fürer’s visit, I did not get the impression that our former meeting was a scheme to save face or for some political goal.’
Of course, she did not dare imply he was lying and so stayed silent about her observation. Instead, the Colonel clicked her polished boots together and gave the General a smart salute. Major Weiss quickly followed suit.
“Thank you for the kind words General Armstrong, sir!”
The General gave her a casual wave.
“Please, Miss. Degurechaff, none of that. Let’s leave the ranks at the door, if you would. Think of this as just a friendly chat with my family.”
The Butler sat her opposite the General at the foot of the table. Before Tanya sat down, a small cushion was added to the seat allowing her to sit up higher in the chair. As she sat down, her mind was working in overdrive.
‘This is already off to a terrible start! Had he insisted we kept military ranks, we would be only 4 ranks apart. It is entirely conceivable he has an Adjutant with the rank of Colonel. However, by insisting that we dispense of them, I am just a normal civilian speaking to the leader of a juggernaut of industry!’
Before she could think deeper into the web of intrigue she was finding herself in, the youngest member of the Armstrong family spoke up.
“Oh, have you met daddy before?”
Before Tanya could respond, General Armstrong tapped his head with the knuckles of one hand.
“My apologies Miss. Degurechaff, it seems that I am getting ahead of myself. Let me introduce you to my loving family. You have already met Alexander, my son, and this beautiful princess is Catherine.”
The young Catherine was flush with embarrassment and shyly twirled her hair with a finger.
“D-daddy, stop!”
Tanya heard a “aww” sound and turned to see Major Weiss staring at the young woman with a smile on his face. She kicked him underneath the table and he turned away with a flush.
‘I suppose it is expected that a married man might be drawn to “dote” on a cute kid, but I’ve never seen Major Weiss act like that before.’
She turned to the family with newfound wariness.
‘Major Armstrong could elicit strange responses like that too, couldn’t he? Despite his dramatic antics, the moment he walked into a room, everyone was drawn in by his “charisma”. Everyone always ignored his wild antics and muscular poses… but could this be a learned skill? A class of tactics this family uses to lower my guard? Is this how the Armstrong family came to dominate the civilian market?’
Ignorant of her internal thought process, the General continued his introduction, pointing to the muscle-bound female twins. They were the spitting image of their brother.
“These two wonderful ladies are my daughters Amue and Strongine.”
Unlike the other family members, they seemed indifferent to her and instead seem to be glaring at Weiss for some reason who was doing his best to avoid their eyes. She did not know what her subordinate did to offend them, but she politely smiled at them, hoping to undo whatever offense they seem to have unintentionally made.
Finally, the General held hands with the tall, stern woman to his right.
“And last – but certainly not least – is my beautiful wife.”
The older woman did not emote, but simply nodded in their direction.
“Please just call me Mrs. Armstrong.”
With the introductions out of the way, the General snapped his fingers and a few maids delivered them their meals. The server described the meal as it was placed before her.
“Salmon fillet with Dill-cream and smoked Sturgeon, served with a watercress salad of Rye Berry, Almond, Beetroot and Lemon Vinaigrette.”
The food looked delicious, but she was surprised by the simplicity. While it was clearly made by a seasoned chef, it was also made of simple ingredients that probably came from the local area. The bright pink-flesh of the salmon, the smell of the fresh seafood, and the rice-like nature of the Rye Berries appealed to her Japanese sensibilities and she felt her mouth water. Despite her best efforts, it appeared that the General caught onto her hunger and chuckled.
“Please, dig in. That we already started was rude of us, but I hope you do not begrudge us our time together as a family before we get into business.”
She flushed at being caught but decided to go along with the General’s recommendation. She ate for a few more minutes, hoping both that the satisfaction of her hunger would allow her to think more clearly, but also to buy time.
‘They keep distracting me and every second I waste is critical! I cannot let slip the truth: that this meeting wasn’t my idea. Not only could that ruin the career of my capable Adjutant, but it would be tantamount to blaming the Armstrongs for the mistake. No matter how you frame it, I would be burning a valuable bridge with one of the wealthiest families in Amestris! Therefore, I must make a sincere request for their support, but I don’t need to push too strongly. After all, it is obvious that the State is trying to keep my Project separate from the Civil Sector. Unless the Armstrongs can change that, I would just be throwing myself out of the pan and into the fire.’
That would need to be her first line of inquiry.
“I have to admit that I am surprised you’re even considering my request. I had thought that these sorts of military projects would be useless to you. I can only imagine that there would be a number of harsh stipulations and conditions attached that would make profiting from it very difficult. The State keeps a tight control of this sort of thing. After all, this is a new technology and the risk of other nations taking advantage is dangerous.”
The General chuckled. He swallowed some food he was eating and politely dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.
“It is nice to have the next generation caring for their elders, but this old man made a name for himself doing exactly that. What you say is true, but this family has a lot of pull in the military. We have ways for to get a civilian ‘Operation Orb Project’ off the ground. The internal combustion engine and high-explosives were also solely military projects before they were turned into Armstrong Industry trucks and land-clearing demolitions. In fact, my promotion to General is thanks to that. Your Operation Orb seems like it could add onto that legacy.”
Tanya was shocked by his words. Her first meeting with Major Armstrong had led her to believe their family was just a minor one, but they seemed to be anything but! The Armstrongs must have been the Amestrian version of the Mitsubishi Family whose organization made everything from electronics to tanks for Imperial Japan. She had been comparing their home to those of the Zaibatsu (財閥), but she did not realize how on-the-mark she had been.
‘This changes things! If General Armstrong has that kind of pull, then my dream of a retirement off of my hard work is closer than ever! I had always planned for the Operation Orb to be an economic revolution first and foremost!’
She sat up in her chair and looked towards the Armstrongs with a wide smile.
“I am making great headway on exactly that! My current research into low-cost steel Orbs have shown a lot of promise. While they would not be of much use for the military, I can see many civilian applications. A simplified version of the ‘Empower’ Operation could be used in the creation of a ‘powered exoskeleton’ giving the average worker the ability to move heavy objects without strain. The ‘Flight’ Operation could open the door to heavier-than-air commercial aviation, cutting down the need for expensive railways and possibly allowing for express delivery of vital goods to remote areas. Even something like ‘Deflect’ and ‘Destroy’ could have applications in civilian police forces as safer and lower-cost alternatives to armor and non-lethal weapons in crowd-control.”
To her dismay, the General was not as enthused about her developments as she had hoped. He was only politely nodding along and seemed more interested in eating than anything else.
“I can certainly see there are a number of enticing avenues of development. Still, I cannot help but be concerned regarding the cause of all this. It seems like there is something of a conspiracy against you.”
Tanya was shocked that even a great General and leading member of industry had heard the ridiculous rumors.
‘Why does everyone jump to that? Should I be flattered that they think my administrative incompetence is not my fault, or insulted that they think my situation is so bad that the only explanation possible is conspiracy? The last thing I want them to think is that there is some sort of “boogeyman” they would be fighting with their offer of support.’
She let out an awkward laugh at that, desperately trying to play down the hoax before he thought she “political dead weight”.
“Oh no, nothing like that. It is... regrettable to say that while I have some skill in the development and use of new technologies and tactics as well as some capacity as a a military leader, I’ve had trouble with managing the financial affairs of a government project. While your support will certainly help me with this, I’m adamant that I can solve this on my own if I needed to.”
With a snap of his fingers, General Armstrong’s meal was finished and a butler came to remove his plate and utensils.
“In that case, it seems that the Armstrong family has things to think about. Please feel free to finish your meal if-”
Tanya clenched her fists and sat up. She knew a dismissal when she heard one. She had made her case and she did not have the luxury of wasting any time.
‘This is fine… I didn’t have any expectations going into this meeting anyway…’
She gave him a salute and did not let her disappointment show on her face.
“Not at all. I thank you for the meal, but both myself and my second here have much work left to do.”
Only then did she realize that her subordinate looked to be enjoying his meal until that point. She regretted trying to leave so soon, but she had little choice now.
The last thing she wanted to show was that their finances were so tight that she was considering rationing her men and that this meal might be the last one good one they might have for a long time.
---
February 8th, 1909, Armstrong Estate, Central City Outskirts, Amestris – Philip POV
As Miss. Degurechaff left the dining hall and the family housekeepers began clearing the table, he could not help but smile at her retreating form. He turned to his son Alex with visible pride.
“She’s exactly like you told me. Well, I can understand what has you so enamored with her. I would approve if you could get her to join our family. What do you think?”
His son glared at his father.
“Father, please, I’m not enamored! And family?! She is a 9-year-old child. That’s hardly appropriate!”
He chuckled at his embarrassment.
“She’s mature enough to be talking to me as an equal, so I meant it wouldn’t be unheard of to have her adopted. She is an orphan after all. She could go far with an Armstrong education and backing. Ah, did you think I wanted to have her engaged to you?”
At his father’s laughter, Alex realized his misunderstanding, flushed, and looked away.
“No, I didn’t mean-”
A sudden, sharp, pain cut his son off as Philip was smacked across the back of his head. The force of the impact sent the older man out of his seat and into the nearby wall, smashing a pot of flowers nearby. It took a moment for the General to struggle his way back onto his feet. When he had done so, housekeeping silently cleared away the damaged pottery and brush off the flakes of dirt and ceramic that had gotten on his clothes. Philip turned to see his wife glaring at him.
‘She might be the most beautiful woman in the world… but she has a mean right-hook.’
Despite what it might look like to outsiders, the strength of his children could be attributed far more to his wife than himself. While he was no slouch in terms of strength, his wife and their daughter Catherine had physical power that defied their slender appearances.
His wife huffed and looked down at him with a hint of disdain.
“That is enough, dear. Now stop teasing your son.”
He had taken things too far, so he nodded his head.
“Yes, dear.”
Catherine giggled at the scene as he made his way back to sit at the table.
“I liked Tanya a lot! She was like a adorable, teenie-tiny version of big-sis Olivier. Those sharp eyes were like the piercing thrust of a Rapier every time she looked my way! So cute!”
Strongine and Amue nod to each other in silent agreement of something. Stongine was the one to speak up.
“While that man with her was as uncomfortable with our presence as most of those… lickspittles that beg for daddy’s support, little Tanya hardly batted an eye. It’s rare for someone to look on our immaculate physique with anything resembling the respect it deserves!”
At that, the two got up and began to pose. Not willing to be left out, Alex threw his shirt which was caught by one of the staff and joined in. As they flexed, Catherine let out squeals of delight and complimented the size and shape of their muscles. Philip had to hold himself back from joining the fun, however. He had a reason for bringing them into all this after all.
He gestured towards his son.
“What about you? If I remember, you already made up your mind before this meeting.”
Alex gave a fierce quarter turn with a left-hand, 45 degree tilted, double-reverse-bicep. Philip gave him a thumbs-up.
‘Nice!’
With a sparkle in his eyes, his son held the pose as he responded.
“While we never fought together on the battlefield, many people I would trust with my life are all in agreement: she is honest, dependable and very capable. If she has a fault, it’s that… she’s like me. She cares too much and seems like she wants to work herself into an early grave. I say it is our duty as the Armstrong Family Line to help her in any way we can!”
When he finished talking, his son transitioned his pose into a front lat spread and allowed his sister Catherine to hang off one of his arms being held at his sides. Philip cooed at the sight.
‘So cute!’
Philip looked to his wife. Mrs. Armstrong was many things, and being the face of the civilian Armstrong business, she was an excellent judge of character and a shrewd businesswoman.
His wife frowned slightly.
“A child who rose to the rank of Colonel no doubt has many secrets… but she is hiding nothing nefarious, I believe. She is who she presents herself: hardworking and passionate about her research.”
Philip grinned.
“Than you would say it is worth gambling on this ‘Black Horse’ then?”
Alex frowned, and stopped his muscular posing to walk back to the table.
“Gamble? I assure you, father, if Tanya is coming to us with a proposal, it will be a success.”
Philip could only sigh.
‘Has he not picked up an ounce of political insight since joining the military?’
“That’s not the risk I’m referring to, son. You heard what I said. The people I had investigating into her situation found proof of foul play in the Procurement Office regarding Miss. Degurechaff’s project. Think about what that means. She has a project sanctioned by the Fürer, so this problem should be as easy to solve as simply bringing it up to King Bradley.”
His son frowned.
“But then-”
Philip shook his head.
“Unless this who conspiracy was sanctioned by the Fürer.”
His son was shocked at the revelation.
“What?! But Fürer King Bradley is the one who awarded Colonel Tanya with her position! She is a State Alchemist only because of his support!”
Philip frowned but said nothing. He likely knew the truth behind the whole situation, but could not argue his point without saying things he felt were better left unsaid.
“Let’s talk about this another time.”
The Old General winced at the disappointed look his son gave him, but he had nothing left to say on the matter.
At his insistence that the was discussion settled and the meal finished, his children filed out of the room and towards the garden. There was still some time left for the family to enjoy the day before Amue and Strongine needed to get back to managing the Armstrong Construction businesses and Alex would be called back to the military.
Once they were out of sight, only he and his wife were left in the room. She looked at him with a faintly disapproving look.
“It’s because you refuse to talk politics with your children that your relationship with them has grown so bad. If you had only talked with Alex or Olivier about-”
He stopped his wife with a raised hand.
“I know, I know… but that isn’t the Armstrong way. They cannot change with the times and discover their own paths to their bright futures if I’m filling their heads with my own musty old ideas. Alexander and Olivier are both worthy of succeeding me, but that can only happen when they realize the true consequences of their actions. Alex wants to fix things, but he lacks confidence. If he took over, I fear he would be paralyzed with the weight of the tens of thousands of employees’ futures in his hands. Olivier is the opposite. She’s plenty confident with many achievements. She even found success in that desolate posting the military foisted upon her… but she has no concept of compromise. Anyone not up to her high standards would be thrown out. The Armstrong Civilian businesses would be crippled under her leadership.”
Her expression softened and she took her hand in his.
“Then are you sure about this? Think of the risks. Going against the Fürer would mean…”
He nods.
“Going against them. The knowledge about the ‘Artificial Humans’ and their cabal that control the Central Faction is something only passed to the Heirs of the Armstrong Family.”
She squeezed his hand.
“And yet you told me, but not any of your children.”
He shook his head.
“You have to agree, they aren’t ready. The knowledge would only put the family in danger. Olivier would throw caution to the wind and lead a direct assault on the capital, and Alex… I don’t know what he would do, but he would probably do something equally foolhardy. The Ishval War was their scheme after all, if he knew…”
She brought a hand up to his face.
“Can you say this is any different? Betting our family and the future of the nation on a little girl? I stand by my opinion on the Colonel, but no one officer – no matter how capable – is enough to win against them. If things are pushed too far, we could find ourselves in the midst of a Civil War with our family on the front lines.”
His eyes hardened.
“Need I remind you our son has already been involved in a Civil War they instigated.”
She sighed.
“Philip… this is not something to decide emotionally. We will be putting thousands of lives at stake.”
He puffed up his chest.
“These are no mere emotions, my love. These are my Merchant Senses passed down the Armstrong Line for Generations! They have never led me astray! That child is a goldmine and letting her potential be squandered – or worse – letting her be won over by those vile creatures in Central would be tantamount to throwing the Armstrong name into the dustbin of history!”
Mrs. Armstrong huffed, but could not keep a small smile from showing on her face.
“You’re incorrigible.”
He chuckled, but at her serious expression, he could only shake his head and sigh.
“Times are changing, and I can’t let myself be blinded by fear. The Creta Border War, Ishval, the tensions in the north and south? Some horrible plan from Central is being enacted on a grand scale before our eyes… yet we’re completely ignorant. I had always planned to investigate things more proactively, this… this is just moving the timetable forwards a little.”
He gave his wife a sad smile.
“And this is no mercy. I will be using a child as bait to discover their schemes; dangling our support of the Mythril Alchemist for all to see. But… what is the life of one officer in-over-their-head compared to the well-being of our family and the nation?”