November 14th, 1908, Central Memorial Hospital, Central City, Amestris – Tanya POV
Tanya was bedridden for almost a month, and conscious for about half that time. Her hands had been shattered when her Empower failed: bones were splintered, muscles torn and ligaments broken. Had she been treated with treatment typical for the time period, she would likely still be staving off an infection with mediocre antibiotics and looking forwards to months of physical therapy with prosthetic hands. That was the logic of the time: when receiving a non-superficial wound, not immediately removing the limb was cutting-edge technology. There was a reason the automail industry was in such high demand.
However – by order of the Fürer – a doctor with a gold tooth brought about her full recovery. The man introduced himself simply as ‘a doctor’ and did not talk much otherwise. As such, she did not make much of him beyond his features: graying-brown hair, glasses, and his miraculous red-colored transmutation. The doctor’s biomedical alchemy seemed to fly in the face of all that she knew about the subject, but that only made her realize just how little was publicly available. Just like in her former world, there were numerous advances that went on behind the closed doors of the government or universities that would take years or decades to trickle out into the rest of the populace.
She could only be grateful that she was not completely abandoned after utterly failing her mission. She had touted the Orb to the Western General Staff as a means of creating effective special forces capable of handling any mission, yet when she was given a relatively simple job, her cautiousness nearly spoiled the whole thing. Had she been more aggressive in capitalizing on the surprise of the first day, they could have destroyed the whole town before the enemy mounted an effective response. Instead, she was lucky that even ¾ of the supplies were destroyed.
More than the mission, 5 men from her unit were dead and 6 more were wounded including herself. That was a casualty rate of 50% and a death toll of 25% of the Platoon she was entrusted with during the operation. To anyone with even a reasonable understanding of the Orb’s capabilities – or even just military losses – her results were at best delinquent and bordering on treasonous. That the war in the West was won regardless was thanks only to the herculean efforts of the rest of her unit and the over one-hundred-thousand soldiers on the front.
‘However, if the State is still willing to invest resources into the miraculous cure of my hands, I must still have some value left… right?’
She had mixed feelings about her failure. On one hand, she had always hoped to be dismissed from the army and as a State Alchemist. She wanted a safe and stable career as a alchemic researcher with upward mobility; failing to achieve the objectives on her first mission was one way to go about that. But on the other hand, blundering her way into a dishonorable discharge would forever stain her future prospects or even have her facing a court-martial. While unlikely, she had the very real possibility of facing a firing squad!
Her negative thoughts were halted by the opening of her hospital room door. 1st Lieutenant Viktoriya Serebreykova walked in holding a tray of food. Her uniform now reflected her new rank and the ribbon rack on her chest displayed the six honors received from her service thus far. The rank and half the medals were by her recommendation; it was the least Tanya could do for one of the soldiers who saved her life.
“Good Afternoon Major. How are you feeling today?”
Tanya sighed.
“I’m fully recovered… but the doctors still insist that I get more bed rest. Other than that, it is good to see you again 1st Lieutenant.”
Viktoriya frowned.
“Then you should probably stay in bed.”
Tanya rolled her eyes.
‘I’m not some sort of Shonen Protagonist. I am always willing to follow the advice or instructions of those more qualified than me, especially in regards to my long-term health. I still plan on growing up to be a healthy and happy adult you know!’
She gestured towards a pile of papers stacked neatly on a desk at the far side of the room.
“Would you mind?”
Her Adjutant smiled.
“Ah! Of course!”
The two of them got back into a familiar routine that had been established since she first made her recovery. While her hands were repaired, they still needed to undergo physical therapy and so using them for any length of time was often too much. Instead, the Lieutenant would pass a document over for her to read and she would make some remarks that her Adjutant would right down. Every once in a while, she would let her Adjutant feed her a slice of apple which the woman took great delight in for some reason.
This bit of rather mundane administrative activity was interrupted by her door once again opening. This time, however, the door barely managed to stay on its hinge as Major Alex Louis Armstrong barged into the room.
◊♦◊ “Major Tanya Degurechaff, I hope that you are recovering well!” ♦◊♦
Tanya grimaced at the loud, boisterous man’s entrance. She was conflicted. His personality could be described charitably as well-meaning, so she did not hold it against him. Rather, she did not appreciate the man’s company because he did not know how to keep his mouth shut.
He had told her Adjutant the full story surrounding the State Alchemist Exam; namely that she had been forced into the position by the Fürer. She had feared that the revelation would have turned her band of war maniacs against her; that they would realize the person they risked their lives to save was not as patriotic as they had believed. Her Adjutant did not seem to respond whatsoever to the news… which she did not know was a good sign.
Fortunately, there was no mutiny yet, but she had no doubt the Battalion’s opinion of their commander had changed. She knew that playing it extra safe regarding them – and especially around her Adjutant – was the best way forward for now. She needed them on her side and so she would do everything she could to show to them that she was taking her role seriously. She would have them believe she had no intention of leaving the military, even if her true aspirations were otherwise.
She gave a strained smile to the Strongarm Alchemist.
“Major Armstrong, it is good to see you again. Yes, the recovery is still not complete, but I am stable. My body is just working through a little infection and some physical therapy, but I will be making a full recovery. In other news, I spoke with your father yesterday and he said to give you ‘The Armstrong Line’s greatest well-wishes’ … whatever that means.”
With mention of his family, a smile grew and tears fell on the massive man’s face. He went through a number of bodybuilder poses that seemed to shake the room.
♦◊♦ “That is exceptional news! And why was my father here to visit you?”◊♦◊
She waved off the question, not wanting to remember the moment more than she had to.
“Your father was the commander in charge of the Western Front. Someone had put the idea in his head that my unit was solely responsible for the outcome of the War with Creta and he wanted to offer his personal ‘thanks’.”
Of course, she could read between the lines.
‘General Zettour clearly hoisted all responsibility for the failure of the operation onto me. Nothing else makes sense. Armstrong is a well-known name with a family full of military service so the visit certainly wasn’t to save face or build up his reputation. The man was an expert in sarcasm though, I could hardly tell he was sarcastic in his praise at all!’
Armstrong took the news with the opposite of aplomb. Looking more manic than ever.
♦◊♦ “My father has praised for your prodigious efforts in ending the grisly conflict on our Western border. I still have many scruples about your participation in our military. Oh, my soul is torn in two! You are so young and were injured on your first mission, yet you’ve done such great work!” ◊♦◊
The Strongarm Alchemist threw off the upper half of his uniform, subjecting the room to the man’s well-toned physique. Tanya could not help but be jealous of the time the man must have had to not only create, but maintain such proportions.
◊♦◊ “Muscles of Righteousness™! Judge my actions and reveal to me the right path forwards!” ♦◊♦
Lieutenant Serebryakova chuckled at the antics, but she could not feel the same amusement. She shook her head.
“That’s quite enough Major Armstrong. While it was not my first choice, I have come to find the military to be an employer that places strong emphasis on results, and that is to be admired. The injuries to my hands were an unfortunate accident that no one could have foreseen, but I have been treated to the best care possible.”
Luckily, it seemed that her Adjutant also seemed to agree with her assessment.
“Yes! The Major saved the lives of me and my men! Without her I do not know what we would be doing now.”
‘I’m relieved to hear at least one person in the Battalion does not want to blame me for the lives lost during the mission. I’ll need to work hard to ensure those feels spread around.’
The Strongarm Alchemist nodded and slowly got to putting his uniform back on. He seemed sobered by Viktoriya’s words.
“I see. You have found a group of allies to support you. I can only hope that means any help I can give is no longer needed.”
His normally sunny disposition turned serious as he looked their way.
“I hope that you continue to watch over each other in Ishval. I’ve just been officially… transferred away from the Front, so I will not be seeing you for some time. I am… not allowed to say much about my time there, but the thing that caused me the most pain was the lack of good friends.”
Tanya frowned.
“I had been meaning to ask you. When I saw you last-”
Armstrong’s serious look disappeared and he gave her a soft smile and a wink.
“Don’t worry yourself with your seniors, Mythril. Us military men are made of tough stuff. You once asked me if I had goal. I couldn’t answer you before, but I can now. I hope to make a world of peace where children like you are no longer needed to fight our wars.”
Tanya smiled as he thought back to the world she had once called home.
‘That too was once a world once filled with war, but Free-Market Capitalism and a level-headed, rational individuals could break the cycle of violence. I only wish everyone was like Armstrong and gave peace a chance. If it wasn’t for people like the Fürer putting me into uncomfortable positions I would already-’
Her smile froze on her face as she realized the man of her nightmares had somehow escaped the confines of her mind and into reality.
The Fürer smiled and stepped into the room, he held what looked like a gift-basket which he placed next to her bed.
“Ah, it seems I am interrupting something, should I wait outside?”
Everyone saluted and Lieutenant Serebryakova – not used to their leader’s surprises – looked like she might faint on the spot.
“F-F-Fürer President King Bradley, sir!”
Tanya looked at her hands still curled-in on themselves and sighed.
“No, you could never interrupt, sir. I apologize if my salute is not quite adequate.”
Major Armstrong glared at their leader.
“I was just about to head out.”
‘Could he be more rude?! I hope he is not doing that for my sake! The last thing I need is to gain even more scrutiny by the ruler of the land!’
Major Armstrong turned to Tanya.
“It was good to see your again. Hopefully next time will be under better circumstances.”
She gave him a small smile, but silently urged the oaf to leave before he started something with the Fürer.
“You as well. I would like to see the world you want to create one day.”
As Major Armstrong left, many others started to arrive. Several men wore cameras while others brought in several boxes.
‘What the hell has my hospital bedroom devolved into?! What is this, some kind of sitcom?’
Seemingly understanding her thoughts, the Fürer shrugged his shoulders and gave a chuckle.
“Please don’t mind these fellows. You’re something of a rising star in the military; a little bit of pomp and ceremony is to be expected.”
Her heart dropped.
‘Oh no! I feared they would discharge me from the military, but this is too much! Is that your plan, to give me a miraculous cure and an insurmountable debt on me, then fire me from the military as a publicized event?! Forget my career, my life would be over!’
She tried to think of whatever she could to placate her superior.
“Your kind words are far too generous, my Fürer. You’ve healed my hands and given me a position in the military I don’t deserve. I can only hope to continue serving the State for as long as I am able in whatever capacity is desired.”
Thankfully, the Fürer seemed pleased by her words.
“I’m glad you feel that way. I think I have the authority to speak for the State to say that We are grateful for your service.”
Before she could consider the surprising words, he snapped his fingers. A woman rushed to grab a parcel and stood next to her bed. Opening the box, the woman revealed a golden medallion. At the same time, a number of the photographers started taking pictures. Tanya was so dumbfounded she instinctively put on a smile.
Presumably ignorant to the nature of her confusion, the Fürer continued with his speech.
“It is my privilege, as the leader of the people of Amestris and as the Commander-in-Chief of the Amestrian Armed Forces to present to you, Tanya Degurechaff, honors for your duty towards your fellow soldiers and to Amestris. Under normal circumstances, the awarding of a medal is done with a ceremony; one for each medal and celebrating the recipients collectively. However, for your unprecedented service and your current circumstances, some adjustment to standard procedure are necessary.”
‘Hold on a minute! What is this?! I don’t understand. I failed my very first mission! I got soldiers killed, and returned wounded. I should be discharged. Why am I being rewarded?!’
Taking out the golden medallion from the box and pinning it to her hospital gown, her leader turned to the cameras as they took more pictures. She turned back to her with a fatherly smile.
“While long overdue, your development of the Operation Orb has realized the potential I had envisioned from the moment I first saw it. For making such a potent weapon in service of the State, you are awarded the Golden Medal of Merit for War Aid.”
‘Wait a moment… between curing my hands and these medals, aren’t I really in debt to him now? What could be his scheme?’
Ignorant of her internal struggles to come to terms with her sudden change in fortune, the Fürer pinned another medal onto her small frame.
“Your comrades were generous in their praise and your commanders see no reason to think otherwise. For saving your comrades from harm at great risk to yourself, you are rewarded the Golden Medal of Merit with Crossed Swords, the highest honor for bravery the military can give.”
Again the photographers took her picture and she had to fight a scowl. She realized exactly what type of game the Fürer was playing now.
‘By tying me closer to himself, he’s limiting my avenues of escape. To quit the military now – even quitting as State Alchemist – would be an affront to his generosity. He’s killing me with kindness. Ha! No matter, I am the master of my own fate! In a few months, I’ll be back to civilian life and can tell my employer that I’m “Truly disheartened not to live up to the aspersions of our leader”. I’d still be looked at with respect! Your little games change nothing!’
Then the final medal was revealed. It was almost twice the size of the other ones: a large golden broach with silver bands around the edges. She had trouble making out the detail with it upside down, but it looked like a starburst ringed with wings.
“Finally, you trained an elite group of soldiers, planned a daring assault behind enemy lines, and saved an entire front from the brink of collapse. Seldom in military history has one individual so completely represented the success of a unit, and one unit represented the success of a war. Lieutenant General Hans von Zettour insisted that without the actions of you specifically, that his plan would not have succeeded. For your unique skills – which rescued the Army and by extension the State from peril – you are awarded the Order of Merit to the State with Silver Wings.”
‘The Order of State Merit with Silver Wings?! I didn’t even know you could get that while still breathing. No wait, more importantly, General Zettour got promoted for his botched mission?! This makes no sense, my Battalion was stretched thin, I got soundly routed and I failed part of my objective despite an overwhelming superiority in modern weapons, leading to half my Platoon getting injured! How could anyone-’
Suddenly, it hit her. The truth behind the whole thing.
‘No… no no no! General Zettour, what did you do?! He was probably the who faced most of the blame for my failure. It all makes sense now. Who would be blamed more: the subordinate failing on their first mission, or the superior who sent them? But for him to be promoted… there must have been some backroom deal. He gets promoted for his “genius plan” while I’m given the blame as the “newbie”. In fact, by that logic, the Fürer is actually doing me a massive favor by not throwing me under the bus!’
She looked at her leader with a new light as he pinned the last medal onto her. The ceremony and pageantry made perfect sense now. She had been chosen by him to be a State Alchemist, so her failure would have looked bad on him as well. But while he was trying to save face, he was also showing his support for her potential.
The Fürer finished his speech and gestured to the remaining boxes off to the side.
“As for your other merits. It goes without saying you have received medals for injury in military service and for service during the Western Border Conflict. We even received a surprising bounty of research potential from the bits of those chimera we were able to retrieve from your battle. Those rewards are all here, but it would not be right to dilute the outstanding achievements already presented. Instead, I will say that these medals are not merely trinkets. They are not just a symbol to wear on your uniform, but a symbol of the person you are. Thus, befitting of the recognition of who we now know you to be, you have also been promoted. Congratulations, Lieutenant Colonel.”
With those final words, Tanya Degurechaff froze. The cost-benefit analysis constantly going through her mind struggled to accommodate such a massive shift in variables. She was no longer just a State Alchemist with a symbolic rank, but someone serving under the Fürer with an official hierarchy and career path.
‘This changes everything. I’d always had my mind set on quitting, but why would I still fight this? Considering that I have a several months before the State Certification renewal – and any chance of leaving the military gracefully – what is the benefit in starting over from scratch? I’ve not only received the attention of the leader of Amestris, but numerous other Generals as well. Lieutenant Colonel… that’s just two tantalizing steps away from Brigadier General, and who heard of a General stepping foot on the battlefield? I just need to focus on gaining positive results and if I keep the same rate of success, and I could achieve that rank before the end of the year! No, this is a blessing in disguise. I’ve already received the medals, so no one can say I didn’t earn any future promotions. I just need to gain a few more notable achievements, get back in the good graces of the military’s top staff, and I can have the comfortable job of my dreams through my own merit, with growth right to the top!’
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she showed a genuine smile and gave her leader a crisp salute. Her injured fingers strained to stay straight, but the pain was nothing compared to the prospects of her future.
“I am grateful for the honor to serve in a greater capacity, my Fürer! I only hope that I continue to reward the faith you have placed in me!”
The man returned her smile but narrowed his eyes in an obvious warning to not get too full of herself.
“I’m sure you will, Mythril.”
As everyone started leaving the room, she turned to her Adjutant with a thoughtful look.
‘If I just need to reaffirm my commitment to the Battalion. With loyal subordinates and generous superiors, moving up the ranks and a comfortable life behind the frontlines is only a matter of time!’
---
November 16th, 1908, Central Military Cemetery, Central City Outskirts, Amestris – Weiss POV
As Captain Matheus Johan Weiss walked along the rows of white, identical tombstones. As a man over 5 years in the military, he was not unaccustomed to death, but these were the first ones in a new unit; it felt more personal. He could not help but reminisce on his life and choices again… he had made a number of bad ones.
He was an ordinary man. If asked, most people would say he was nice – a little awkward maybe – but a model of the typical officer: rule-abiding, stern, but with a certain likable charm. He was never bullied in school and grew up in a middle-class family which wanted for nothing. Had he desired it, he could have taken over the family business. His father ran a small newspaper and he could have worked his way to succeeding him.
He could have, if not for the great flaw of many teenagers: his ego could not take it.
Had he worked with his father, he would be competing with other exceptional individuals in the company for the chance at leadership and if he did finally take over, he would be forced to compete with other newspapers for readership. It would be a rewarding life perhaps, but there was so much expectations, so much struggle for something as inconsequential as a local paper.
‘”What was the point of that?” I’d thought. I can laugh about it now, but at the time, I was a rotten, spoiled brat. I was given everything on a silver platter and squandered it. My parents were smart to give me an ultimatum: get a job or get out. I’d earned it, but it wasn’t as bad as it sounded: I had the grades and I was still well liked enough in the community to get an apprenticeship somewhere… but that would be admitting that I wasn’t as “special” as I thought I was. So I joined the military.’
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
It seemed like the best choice at the time. As an officer, he would be told what to do and so long as he followed orders, he would rise in the ranks, participate in important events, and retire as a hero everyone respected. The perfect job for the lazy egotist.
‘Then I grew up. I saw a lot of good friends die and I realized that the world was bigger than my inflated self-worth. I decided to dedicate my life to just ensuring that the people around me were alright. I guess at some point along the way, I’d become someone others could depend on… but I never quite felt that “pride” again. I felt… adrift.’
Then he had been given the opportunity at random to join the 203rd.
‘It’s funny. If I’d not been ordered to participate, I’d probably quit the training on the first day. I’d grown complacent. “I’m too old.” “I’m not as good as everyone else.” Somehow, I’d gone completely in the other direction from when I was a kid. But after that first day, I couldn’t just call it quits. I had a small chance of living my childish dreams; of being the best-of-the-best. With the benefit of an extra few years, I finally realized that I was being given a golden opportunity on a silver platter. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, let life pass me by again.’
He was broken from his melancholic anamnesis by the more mournful sight of five coffins making their way towards a group of military and soldiers on the far end of the row. In traditional military custom, several members of the Battalion acted as pall-bearers bringing the large caskets to the open pits of earth. On one side, the family of the soldiers were crying and talking among themselves. In the other corner of the congregation, the officers instinctively grouped together.
Realizing the somber mood, no one said anything for a while, but – as the newly appointed second-in-command – Weiss felt it necessary to lighten the mood a little. He turned to Visha.
“Congratulations on your promotion 1st Lieutenant.”
She gave him a small smile. He counted even just that as an achievement considering the circumstances.
“The Lieutenant Colonel promoted everyone Captain, you were the one who benefited most of all. It was only a matter of time, but you deserve the Vice Commander spot. I don’t want to hear anyone saying that I have the Colonel’s favor just because I’m the Adjutant.”
The others seemed to catch onto his ploy to get everyone a little more comfortable. Captain König also chimed in.
“That’s right, we’re really becoming a top-heavy organization. Not a single Enlisted in the entire Battalion now.”
1st Lieutenant Vooren Grantz nodded his head.
“Well, we were always supposed to be an elite unit… and the Battalion was never exactly ordinary with less than 100 soldiers.”
Captain Neumann let out a small chuckle, grabbing both Visha and Grantz by the shoulders.
“I guess you could say that rank isn’t very important between comrades. You hear that? I don’t want to hear anyone calling me Captain Neumann.”
Captain König narrowed his eyes.
“Fine, but I expect you all to just call me König, got it?”
“Whatever you say Willibald.”
“You-”
Seeing that they were getting a little too rowdy for a funeral, he raised his hands in a placating gesture.
“Alright, alright. Don’t start that again. Now I’m sure you all got the new organizational chart. We are getting more Orbs and filling out the rest of the unit with new blood.”
203rd Battalion Chart [https://i.imgur.com/8C98601.png]
Lieutenant Grantz puffed up his chest a little.
“No one could replace our losses. We are the only ones to pass the Major -er, the Lieutenant Colonel’s training. No one else could compete.”
Captain Neumann side-eyed the younger officer and shook his head.
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Our commander didn’t just pick these new soldiers from nowhere. The 28 recruits came straight from the pool of people that didn’t quite make the cut during training. I don’t know if you remember, but competition got fierce at the end there. While we’ve been sitting comfortable in the Battalion, these guys promised to keep training until they got in. I wouldn’t count them out.”
Lieutenant Serebryakova – who had not said anything until now – muttered a few words.
“I don’t think they could replace Sergeant Hoffmann though.”
Seeing all of their solemn expressions, she quickly waved her hands.
“Ah, sorry. I didn’t want to bring down the mood.”
Weiss shook his head. It was his fault for even trying to lift their spirits to begin with. While it was important to keep a positive outlook, he also knew there was a time and place for everything.
“No, you could say that this is the appropriate mood.”
The rest of the officers were quick to agree.
“Yeah, as much as I want to joke, we should be honoring them instead.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Yeah, we know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
Wanting to move the conversation away from the current awkwardness, Captain Weiss broached a possibly sensitive topic from when he talked to the Lieutenant last.
“I remember you mentioned that you were there when Sergeant Hoffmann died.”
Unlike the first time – and against his expectations – the Lieutenant gave a small smile at the implied question.
“Yeah… as much as it is a sad memory, it is a bit of a happy one too. The idiot said he was jealous of me for being able to help out Tanya so much, yet he is the one who ended up helping her the most. He dived right in the way of that monster. She would have died if it wasn’t for him.”
Tears began to trickle down her face as she recalled his final moments.
“Right at the end there, he was smiling. Told me he was sorry for doubting me and said I couldn’t cry. Moron said ‘I want a lady to cry for me, but you might worry the Major, you can cry for me at my funeral’.”
He felt his own eyes grow hot and sting with tears and see that the others were getting misty-eyed as well.
Captain Neumann let out a huff with mock anger.
“Well… bastard at least got his timing right.”
They chuckled softly at that.
It was a few more minutes until the newly appointed Lieutenant Colonel arrived. He had heard from Visha that she was in numerous meetings with Generals and even the Fürer all afternoon. The car she was in did not even get to drive away before she was running towards them in a hurry as thought she was late and not just released from the hospital a few days prior. Likewise, Visha did her duty as Adjutant and rushed to meet their commander, helping her navigate the stairs of a small podium. They had set it up so that she would be able to see them all and vice-versa despite her small stature. The assistance appeared greatly needed as her hands were unable to grab hold of anything.
Weiss heard Grantz whisper to them.
“Damn, I knew the damage was bad, but it still hasn’t healed after 2 weeks?”
He shook his head.
“Not that she lets it stop her. Visha told me she had the doctors put a hole in her initial cast just so she could stick a pen in it to write reports.”
They did not even laugh but nodded; it sounded about right. König gestured towards the two.
“And you remember what Visha said, right? Being a State Alchemist wasn’t her first choice. Yet despite that, she built a groundbreaking new weapon, trained an elite unit, and ended a war.”
Neumann shook his head.
“It sounds crazy; I don’t even notice she’s still a kid half the time. I can’t even imagine her doing anything else… well, maybe a teacher? If she could teach a room full of enlisted meatheads to do math, she could teach anything. Would feel a bit sorry for the students though.”
A few of them chuckled softly for an instant before they heard their commander blow her whistle. The crisp sound had everyone immediately snap to attention. She looked at everyone with uncharacteristic worry for a moment before her face set into her usual stern expression. Rather than looking at her soldiers, however, she seemed to be directly addressing the civilians.
“Thank you for coming. Everyone here personally knew the people we lost just a month ago and that is not something most Battalions can say; but in my unit, every soldier is worth a dozen anywhere else. That is not hyperbole. Sergeants Clausewitz, Hoffmann, and Braun, Corporal Harris and Private Schwartz were examples of the quality of this Battalion. They never quit. When given time off, they would request more training. All of you are war-maniacs er, battle-hardened soldiers who don’t shy away from danger. The best of the best.”
Weiss could feel himself stand a little straighter.
‘Maybe I should do a few mountain hike exercises with the new recruits. I can’t risk lowering the standards of the unit.’
Their commander shook her head.
“But these men were especially brave. They volunteered for my Platoon knowing they would be put at greater risk. The enemy often focuses on the commander in battle and my missions would come with more difficulties. So when the inevitable time came, they didn’t waver, and bought enough time to save my life and the lives of their fellow comrades. They did their duty… but like the medals, the double-promotion and the bereavement bonus, that must sound like cold comfort. They sacrificed their lives for the Fatherland, but those five brave men will not see their homeland again. And as many of you are aware, I am partially responsible.”
Weiss’ eyes went wide with shock.
‘What? Why would she think she’d anything to do with their deaths? She trained us to be the best of the best and faced down literal monsters in one-on-one combat!’
He was not the only one feeling frustrated at the sudden admission of guilt as he could hear a few harsh whispers around him. He also could see Visha seemingly shake her head in frustration. No doubt that when she was helping the Lieutenant Colonel with her speech, this must have come up.
Despite the growing tension of the soldiers wanting to cry out in denial, however, Tanya turned to her Adjutant who held up a thick binder filled with paper.
“But I’ve not been idle! As commander, I take my duties very seriously; as seriously as I’ve seen many others in the Battalion take their own. The pages here are those 5 men’s legacy. They describe the abilities of our enemies, the tactics they used and the skills we can learn to counter them. Already, I have been given approval from the Fürer for new versions of the Orb to be produced and new training regimes implemented.”
He was in shock now, but for an entirely different reason.
‘Is that why she was running around so much?! I’d thought that with her promotion and medals that she’d be getting interviews with Generals or with the Press. She helped end a years-long war! But she was doing research like Visha always talks about… she always puts the Battalion first…’
His commander continued to speak, but he was no longer listening. He would later regret that, but at the moment his mind was racing. It was becoming clear that the Lieutenant Colonel would continue to push herself to the limit to hone them into perfect weapons. Until now, he had been content to ride on her coat-tails and passively absorb her lessons, but as the Vice Commander, could he afford to?
‘She saw something in me… something that even now I can’t see in myself. I’m just an ordinary man, but maybe… maybe I could be something more.’
For the first time since he’d joined the military, Captain Matheus Johan Weiss felt a spark of confidence. This was not his teenaged ego rearing its ugly head again. He was the Vice Commander of the greatest military unit in Amestris!
‘Maybe it’s time I started acting like it.’
From then on, whenever he was not busy in training, in battle, or handling the affairs of the Battalion in his commander’s stead, he would go to libraries, talk with old acquaintances and remind them of old favors. He would better himself, so that he too could someday see that part of him his commander found and nurture it so that someday, when Lieutenant Colonel Tanya Degurechaff moved on to grander undertaking that he could scarcely imagine, he would be ready to take charge.
Ready to realize the potential his commander saw in him.
---
November 16th, 1908, Office of the Fürer-President, Central Headquarters, Central City, Amestris – Wrath POV
The man known as King Bradley stepped into his office having just come from another meeting with the Mythril Alchemist.
The girl had taken her newfound popularity with aplomb, consolidating her new authority and requisitioning resources to create more powerful weapons loyal to herself. Her ambition was as naked as it was typical and he was glad she was finally becoming more controllable. Had she wanted to be a thorn in his side, she could have stayed under the command of Lieutenant General Zettour and the Western General Staff. Had she done so, she might have forced him to take more drastic measures, but if she wanted to trade power and success for loyalty to Central Authority and a position under his direct control, he was more than happy to approve it.
Even if it meant potentially poisoning his inner circle with her special brand of “corruption”, he was on a time-crunch. The Promised Day was mere years away and he was still not ready to play his part. Now that the conspiracy was moving, unwavering loyalties were challenged and the apparatus of the State was slowly freeing itself from the steel-tight grip he had wrestled it into over his 35 years in office.
The first cracks to show was the little ‘ploy’ of the Silver Alchemist to get rid of his protégé. That the State Alchemy Exam – something invaluable to his Father’s plans – could be subverted so easily was unacceptable. The situation resolved itself and both Mythril and Silver placed themselves squarely underneath his boot, but only by his direct action. Had he not seen the report on his activity for just another hour, a valuable pawn would have slipped his grasp and potentially turned into a dagger to his throat.
Being the Dictator of the Nation meant being responsible for these failures, but it was also true that no ship steered itself. Just his room showed the incompetence of those around him. His desk was disorganized and filled with frivolous information and his phone was stacked with memos from unanswered calls. He had been away for only an hour, yet that was long enough for the government to buckle under the burden of his absence. He felt a small bit of pride from knowing he was such a powerful and respected individual of the massive nation under his control.
But pride was not his emotion. No, he was furious.
He looked to his secretary Lieutenant Colonel Klemin sitting in one corner with a stupid expression on his face and no sense of urgency. The dark-skinned man was of middling quality but suitable ambition. He could be trusted with some knowledge of his Father’s plans. Like many men of similar disposition, however, his incompetence was both a blessing and a curse. While he could be relied on to handle the sensitive nature of his double-life when necessary – and could be disposed of at any time – he was unable to do any of the administrative tasks to an acceptable level.
‘I’ll need to give him a promotion into some inactive Central Brigade as soon as possible and replace him with someone more suitable. With our plans moving into the next phase, we will need more competence in key positions, even if it might put our secrecy in jeopardy. This most recent failure was the last straw.’
That failure being the matter he had just finished resolving; that of the Mythril Alchemist’s surprising effectiveness. Surprising because the Western Border War with Creta was meant to continue for at least five more years and keep the Western militarists distracted. The technologies of Amestris and the surrounding nations had been tailored from centuries of espionage to suit a style of attrition conflict where lives were expended with little gain. There should have been no changes for at least a decade; the State had full control over politics and technology of Amestris, Creta and Aerugo with politicians and aristocrats bought and paid for.
‘There will be hell to pay, and I know just who to pay it.’
With a wave of his hand, his secretary let in Giolio Comanche, the Silver Alchemist, who held his hat in his hands with a look of worry he rightfully deserved.
“Ah, my Fürer, it is so good to-”
“Silver. Do you know why you are here?”
The man made an audible swallow as he looked away from his leader. He fidgeted with his hat before glancing at the ruler of Amestris.
“Ah, that… I, I don’t know how it was possible! I told you everything, I swear! The Operation Orb is the most sophisticated piece of machinery to have ever been produced. I have thousands of pages dedicated just to he explanation of how the complicated mathematics works. There is no way that a bunch of meatheads could-”
Wrath slammed his desk and stood up. He balled up a piece of paper and threw it at the man. It was the only thing he could think of that would result in him not running him through with a sword where he stood.
‘He still has a use… I must have restraint…’
“No way, you said?! I have a report here stating that Mythril’s Battalion – a Battalion I made on your recommendation to keep her pacified – was able to end a war on its own! That does not sound very complicated to me! When I ordered you to create a toy for the Western Military to play with while the State perfected an improved version, that was not a request. I was expecting Mythril’s Battalion to be like the chemical warfare that was attempted. It was supposed to be an idle curiosity for the moralists to ponder over, but it was not supposed to change the situation!”
The man was sweating now and tugged at the collar of his waistcoat.
“I- I just don’t understand what is so bad about all this… we won the war didn’t-”
The leader of Amestris had enough. In a flash, he was at the Silver Alchemist’s neck and had him pinned to a wall.
“It is not your place to understand the Will of the State, Silver!”
‘With the Western Militarists free to build their resources, they now could join the north in threatening my Central Hegemony. What’s more, with Lieutenant General Armstrong’s recent move to Briggs, their family now has enough power to destabilize the nation. If not for the heir’s flagrant cowardice and the Western War, I would have been forced to purge them and half of their supporters; a Civil War, just to stay in power! Yet this man has the gall to think he did something positive?!’
He could feel his nature luring him in. He so desperately wanted to say those thoughts at the man. To make him a liability so he would be forced to execute him. It would be so easy. In close quarters like this, he was unmatched. It would only be an instant and the rage within him would be satiated.
He dropped the Alchemist to the floor and looked down on him with disdain.
“Mythril has been promoted and sent to Ishval. I have every confidence she will be able to achieve the results your project was meant to provide. You will be moved into a new project. Congratulations. Just as you hoped, you will be privy to more State Secrets… and if you fail again, no one will save you from my Wrath.”
This was not a threat, it was a promise, and they both knew it. With a nod of the Fürer’s head, Secretary Klemin sent a signal downstairs. In a moment, the door to his office opened and a frail-looking older man with combed-back hair, a labcoat, and a monocle opened the door. He was surprised when his leader threw the Silver Alchemist at his feet.
The Fürer straightened his presidential coat and turned to the scientist.
“Doctor Schugel, your request has been approved. The Silver Alchemist will be working under your project now. I will expect superior weekly reports on the progress of Project Sovereign from now on, is that understood?”
The man looked delighted with a manic expression in his eyes.
“Of course, mein Fürer! I will provide only the best that science can provide! Come Silver, destiny awaits!”
With that, the two left, leaving the man known as King Bradley to his work. He sat down at his desk, read through the reports while he thought.
‘Unlike the incompetence of my secretary, that man is a whole different kind of dangerous. On paper, he should be fully in the Western camp and loyal to their General Staff that I had replaced with my puppets. At the same time, his competence is undeniable. With his ambition, he could have any position he wanted even without my assistance. Yet it is clear from even a single conversation that he shouldn’t be trusted with anything. Yet, it can be said that any human with an understanding of our goals can only appeal to that sort of insanity. He cannot be any worse than Silver, at least I know that Doctor Adelheid von Schugel is not to be trusted-’
His thoughts were interrupted by his door opening. He was not expecting any visitors. In an instant, he had his sword in his hand underneath his desk and looked up to the intruder. His secretary was a moment slower, but had a greater reaction, standing up from his own desk.
“How did you get in here? What are you-”
Wrath cut the man off by crossing the room in a moment and gripping him on the shoulder.
“You may leave now.”
“But-”
Secretary Klemin was stopped by the look his leader was giving him. With an audible gulp, the man grabbed a few documents before heading out the door.
The intruder gave Wrath a large smile, his single golden tooth glistening.
“I see you’ve been having difficulties in handling things by yourself. I should be annoyed at being called in to cure some pathetic child’s boo-boos but it’s worth it to see that look on your face.”
The Fürer could not stop from clenching his fists and his face contorting with rage. The man before his subjected him to a decade of living hell to transform him into what he was today, but he no longer faulted him for that. He knew the nature of the world now and – as a superior being – he recognized the procedure as a blessing. No, what he hated was the look of superiority the doctor gave. That a human would dare think of himself the superior to a homunculus… he should rip out the Doctor’s jaw for even hinting at such a thing.
The Doctor was not attacked and took the lack of action from his leader as a sign of victory.
“Ah, you’ll need to calm down before your emotions cause yet more failures. I am all too willing to fix your mistakes, but Father is not pleased. Some changes to the plan are to be expected. Perhaps your role will need to be adjusted as well. I’m sure you understand.”
He ignored the pathetic man’s jibes.
“What do you want?”
The man brought his hand to his face.
“Didn’t you hear me? The plans are being adjusted, but I can understand that a fool like yourself cannot think through the full ramifications. I’ spell it out, I expect your full cooperation with handling the new budgets I have for my projects. Project Valhalla and Project Lucifer will not be threatened by the shortfalls of your failures.”
With the gloating finished, the man left.
With him gone, he was finally free to let his anger loose, stabbing a sword into a concrete wall and using the other to drive a deep gouge into his desk and his paperwork. His knuckles were white on the hilts of the blades and he could feel his left eye feel red-hot underneath his eyepatch.
With the immediate need for violence satiated, he pulled out the sword from the wall and released a puff of concrete dust in the process. He shook the blade of the debris, sheathed the two blades in the holsters on his sides and sat at his now-ruined desk.
It took a few moments before he brought a hand to his face as he came down from the adrenaline high and could not contain himself. He laughed and slapped a hand on his chair. He could almost feel tears at the edges of his eyes.
‘Is he an idiot? The Doctor really must have hated Tanya Degurechaff if he was willing to march up from the basement and all the way to me to whine about it.’
The rapid changes in mood took over a minute to resolve themselves and the polite “mask” of the Fürer found its way on his face again. He considered the girl again carefully as he had for the past few weeks.
‘Whoever Mythril is, her natural state is aggravation. Like a mosquito, I can’t help but keep track of her every move and crush her in brutal violence disproportionate to her threat. So far, she had done nothing but throw centuries of planning to waste. That would be more of a concern if it did not happen all the time. Every invention brings with it change and disruption.’
He stood up and looked out the window behind him and out over Central City. The multitude of people before his eye were like ants in every sense of the word. Yet this one alchemist rose above them. She was still an insect, but not one that could be ignored.
‘An Alchemist with paradigm-shifting research, yet lacking in the fundamentals. An utterly incomprehensible soldier who who pulls off the impossible. An ambitious commander who appears doggedly loyal. An unprecedented child genius with no background. The four nuns at the orphanage who raised her did not give up anything even when tortured to death. Who is pulling her strings? What are their goals, their arrogance for displaying their puppet for the world to see?’
And it was without question she was a pawn on the board of someone else. He knew from personal experience that someone that could not become so omni-competent without support at any age. Either she looked far younger than her real age and had decades of experience they could not account for, or she was like himself: a true genius with educators from a diverse set of exceptional backgrounds. That sort of person came with investment, but her actions did not yield the usual suspects. This was something new and for that he was ironically grateful. Since neither the State nor the other Homonculi could come up with the breadth or scope of the organization backing her, he could not be held accountable for failing to prevent her from disrupting their plans.
And she would be allowed to continue. He had asked for permission to end her threat – if only to show his commitment – but Father had denied him. She was the only piece of this potential adversary and removing her would only keep the rest of them hidden. That was – of course – ignoring her potential as a sacrifice.
That was not to say they were passive. Already, a number of large changes were being made to their plans. The Operation Orb was incorporated into their existing projects and the neighboring powers were subtly shifted back into balance with Amestris. Their plans were entering a period of uncertainty, but that was only natural. The organization that stood for centuries had met such periods time-and-time again without compromise and it would do so again. The wars would continue and the deaths would mount. Greed had proven that no one person – however capable – would stop that.
‘Whatever new player is entering our sphere of influence, they will change nothing. You will live Mythril… for now. You’re a point of interest that can be disposed of at any time, but you are also the only source of information regarding your masters. We will discover your true purpose, and then-’
He stabbed his desk one final time with a sword, it collapsed in a heap on the floor.