Several months had passed since the Promised Day had arrived, its supposed assured outcome resulting in failure. Though the war was over for many Amestrians, tensions had remained at an all-time high in the military despite General Grumman taking over as Fuhrer.
Though the events leading up to Amestris' poorly named 'doomsday' had heavily improved feelings with the country's Eastern neighbor Xing, it had greatly worsened the already unstable foreign relations it held with its northern adjacent counterpart- Drachma. Their pact of non-aggression hanging by a thread, Drachma broke the agreement when it attacked the border it shared with Amestris. Luckily, Amestris' northernmost fortress effortlessly put down the skirmish- even as Fort Briggs' commander was in Central for an urgent (and corrupted) meeting. Even without their commander, the Amestrian soldiers holding the fort easily overcame their enemy's artillery and soldiers. Nonetheless, this event caused the fort's commander, Major General Armstrong, to be reluctant to leave in the future.
As the new government took power and efforts were made in order to assist in the rebuilding of Ishval, many northern soldiers felt as if it was unfair to stay cooped up in the fort. Many wanted to be transferred down south in order to assist in the civil war-torn area's rebuilding as it was restored into a trade hub between Xing and Amestris. Despite this warranted reasoning, officers at Fort Briggs all agreed on one thing- defense should not be lessened at the border; if anything, security should be heightened. Drachma's humiliating defeat would not easily be forgotten- they knew the military state would soon try to avenge their embarrassment through any means necessary.
There was a knock at the door.
Interrupted again. The numerous papers on the Major General's desk fluttered as she gave an exaggerated sigh through her teeth. Forms and letters were scattered around her desk as well as a few that laid on the floor. Ever since the new government took office and new policies were being enacted, there was much more paperwork for officers to do. The only thing the general liked about the late Fuhrer Bradley was how little paperwork she had to do under his rule- no matter how inhuman he really was. She set her pen down, propping up her head on an elbow, "Come in."
The door slowly and quietly creaked open, as if the force moving it was terrified and nervous. A young soldier's head peeked out from behind the door, immediately making eye contact with his commander. Letting out a soft eep of surprise, the soldier's body snapped to attention as his hand flew towards his temple in a salute.
"M-Major General Armstrong, Sir," he began, his voice shaking almost as much as his legs. "I-I-I…"
The woman rolled her eyes, "Well, spit it out. I don't have all day, I'm very busy."
The young soldier dropped his salute with a soft sigh of relief. Olivier's eye twitched. "I was sent to retrieve the… th-the, um…" his voice diminished as the general's icy blue eyes narrowed. He seemed to shrink back slightly before he continued, "Neil would like the forms Central sent for the research on our tanks and aerosani.."
"Mm," Olivier replied in affirmation. She finally broke eye contact with him as she glanced down to sift through her papers; finally finding the ones requested. She grabbed them and forcefully extended them over her desk and towards the young soldier for him to take. Nervously clamoring over to her desk, he took them from her rather delicately before hightailing it to the door.
The Major General cleared her throat, causing the soldier to freeze in his steps. He slowly turned back to her, his brown eyes terrified. "First off," Olivier said, standing up behind her desk. The woman was short, but her body language enough would suffice to intimidate any soldier. "You don't drop your salute until it is returned, and you always salute when you exit the presence of an officer. It's not only polite, but it is an order. Do I make myself clear, boy?" She asked, her voice low and authoritative.
The soldier could only nod, so much so that it seemed as if his head were about to snap off. He gulped in nervousness, any words caught in his throat. He shakily lifted a hand to salute, a gesture in which the general did not return. She glared over at him, "I'd keep you in here standing like that for hours if I wasn't so busy. Get out of my sight, and learn your manners," she grumbled, waving him out in a half-salute. The soldier left that room so quickly, one could say there was but a puff of dust where he once stood.
Sighing again, Olivier ran a gloved hand through her long, blonde hair. Today of all days, when she had the most paperwork her eyes had ever set sight on, it was only natural that every single soldier in that fort would interrupt her. It was all a package deal, she realized. The power, position, command, stature, boundless respect, hundreds of strong and loyal soldiers…. and the endless paperwork and clueless newbies in-training. An officer's work is never done.
Another knock at the door.
That was it. The Major General snapped, slamming her hands onto the table and standing. Her strength sent several papers flying off into the air and onto the ground, "What is it this time?!"
"May I come in, General?" The familiar voice asked from the other side of the door. The sound of her adjutant immediately made Olivier's shoulders relax. She'd rather him interrupt her than anyone else. In fact, she'd rather him keep her company than for her to work alone all day. It always seemed easy for him to calm her down. She sat back down, instantly regretting her angry tone towards her most trusted soldier, "I'm sorry, Major. Come on in."
Major Miles carefully opened the door, his handsome facial features filled with worry. He closed the door behind him, giving his commanding officer a salute, "I'm sorry to interrupt, General."
Olivier saluted back, allowing the Major to drop his hand, making his way over to her desk. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes, hidden by his snow-blindness goggles, scanned the papers in front of the Major General, "And I thought last week was bad enough. This is much worse."
She only nodded, "It's absolutely horrid. The worst part is most of these are the same damn thing!" she complained, lifting up a paper to him just to prove her point. Miles took it, bringing it closer to his face in order to see it more easily. Reading it, he gave a hmph and set it back down.
He took this moment to straighten up some of the papers on her desk, "I'd help you if I could, Sir. Maybe you should take a day off."
Olivier sighed softly, watching as the mess of papers she had created was effortlessly organized. "I appreciate it, Miles, but you know what happened last time I left."
It was Miles' turn to sigh, "You know very well that wasn't your fault, Sir. You know we handled ourselves well, not to mention there's no threat of an alchemy-induced doomsday at the moment."
The Major General stifled an amused smile, "True. But you know as well as I do that Drachma's planning something. Just because you sent them back into their igloos with their tails between their legs doesn't mean they won't come back with more strength. Drachma's a large country, and we have no way of knowing exactly how many bases they have near our border, or what military technology they might be developing."
Her adjutant smiled much more easily than her, "You've always been an observant one, General. I won't force you, but it is sounding an awful lot like you don't trust me in leading this fort."
"Don't play that game, Major," Olivier murmured. "You're more than qualified, and you know I'm aware of that."
"I know," Miles replied as he finished cleaning up the workplace. "Your concern is completely vindicated, Sir. I was only messing with you."
"Since when do you mess around?" The woman shot him a questioning glance.
"Just trying to lighten the mood, Sir," Miles gave her a sheepish smile in return, "I know how stressful this must be. Perhaps a drink later would cheer you up. Not with me, of course."
The general eyed him suspiciously, "We'll see later, Major. Until then, keep up the good work."
Major Miles gave her a nod and a small salute in reply, "Won't let you down, Sir." Olivier returned his salute, and he was off.
After he exited the room, the Major General glanced back down at the papers. She had been in the middle of writing something when he had entered, and now she had lost her thought.
"Dammit..."