1.
It wasn't much, as yet, but at least Colonel Miles had a space he could call an office.
It was a temporary situation, a normal wooden structure destined to eventually be used for storage until the stone and stucco HQ building could be completed. Taking its cue from the surrounding ruins and rebuilding, Fort Ishval would soon have its own low level, thick walled, buildings to try and beat the heat. Even though it was Spring, temps during the afternoon could still get a bit high.
The Colonel made a concession for that and was sat at his desk with his jacket fully unbuttoned. He wondered for the umpteenth time if the requisition to redesign the State Military uniforms for Ishval would ever be reviewed, much less implemented. Heat exhaustion was the number one issue the fledgling garrison dealt with. Made worse by the wool uniforms. It had already taken some serious negotiation with Central Command to get them to re-align the training and work schedules to work around the fierce desert heat.
Which was why he was in his office during mid day.
Head buried in his work, he was signing off on several things when a rapping on his door arrested his attention.
"Come..." he barked, knowing it was his adjutant, Sergeant Major Benjamin. He didn't look up right away, just stacking a report on his out pile and glanced over at his aide.
"Sir, I have a rather, unusual, situation I think might be of interest to you." Benji said, barely hiding a smile, he had a slightly tattered folder in his hand. Miles glanced up.
Big, solid and carrying the distinct Ishvallan glare, he lifted an eyebrow at Benjamin. Miles could be intimidating as hell and a terror to the recruits. Somehow that got dampened by his Sergeant Major, which was what made his adjutant an excellent right hand man.
"You realize I'm up to my ass in requisition forms, rejected applications for supplies, rejected supplies being sent back. And Ishvala knows what else. Tell me what the hell we need 300 butter dishes for?"
"Sounds like Central is clearing out their closets." Benji remarked, keeping as straight a face as he could.
"I also want to know why things are mysteriously disappearing here and there. How the hell do you lose a 50 pound sacks of flour? McGinty is furious."
"Yes, he's threatening rations on the biscuits." Benjamin replied dryly.
Miles glowered up at him a moment. "Out with it Benji, what's up?"
"I've a rather unusual bird out here seeking to re-enlist. I think you might want to handle this one."
Miles stopped what he was doing and stared at the other for a few seconds longer. Benjamin held his gaze. He'd have never asked such a thing as the Sergeant Major was the one who dealt with the new recruits until Miles had their first orientation.
"Re-enlist?" He asked.
"Former Warrant Officer, sir."
"And he wants to re-enlist here?" Miles asked, sounding sceptical. He had quit counting how many times had he flat rejected re-enlistees and new recruits because they didn't meet his standards of what he wanted for this new Fort and for the people of Ishval. He knew it already staggered most people in the upper echelons of military bureaucracy. Ishval, though, was unique and he was resolutely determined to have it meet his very high standards.
"That is correct, sir."
Miles gazed at Benjamin, trying to detect any of the impish sense of humour that normally lurked under the Sergeant Major's exterior. Something was there, but not exactly what he was thinking. He sat back in his chair, looking at Benji curiously.
"A Warrant Officer? He knows he can't re-enlist under his former rank?"
"He's aware, sir."
"What makes him so special?"
"You should see for yourself, Colonel." Benji replied and that quirk to his lips revealed the imp at last.
Miles sighed, he wasn't going to get away from this easily. It was exceedingly rare for a Colonel to deal with any new recruits, or in this case, a re-enlistee, but Fort Ishval was a rare garrison already, nothing was that unusual any more. He shoved his chair back and rose to his feet, reaching out for the folder in Benji's hand.
"All right Benji, you're dying to spring this one on me. Send him in."
Benji tapped his chest with his fingers as he handed over the file. "Me?" he said, grinning. "Would I do that?"
"Don't push your luck, Benji. I'm sure I can find something hot and disgusting for you to work on."
"It's already hot and disgusting in here, sir. Trust me on this one, Colonel, I think you might be in for a pleasant surprise."
Now that piqued Mile's curiosity. Benji turned and left the room briefly and outside in the main reception room he could hear his adjutant speaking briefly to some one. He was about to flip the file open, when his adjutant showed another man into the room, then stepped back.
Miles had always been able to handle such things in his normal, stern, calm manner, but for once he actually did a double take.
Standing before him was a tall man, solid, if a bit underfed and trying hard to present himself as best he could. All this despite a near threadbare dark shirt and slacks that could have used a pressing. He was also wearing a pair of very worn down boots, which thumped together when the stranger came to attention and snapped off a neat salute, holding it in place.
What arrested Miles was the thick white pony tail pulled severely off the man's weathered, rugged features. It was neatly clubbed at the back of his neck with a thin plaited strip of horsehair. His distinctive red eyes were fixed on a point just to the right of Mile's shoulder.
He was obviously Ishvallan.
Miles instantly collected himself and returned the salute, shooting a quick glance at his adjutant to shut the door.
"At ease, soldier," Miles said and studied the man a moment before sitting back down. He flipped the file open as the stranger gripped his hands behind his back and relaxed his shoulders, just a fraction, easing from his more formal stance. Miles waited until he heard the door click shut.
"Thank you, sir." A deep husky voice replied.
"Warrant Officer Eamon Taige?" Miles asked, flicking over the pertinent information he needed.
"Begging your pardon, Colonel, former Warrant Officer, sir." Taige said. Miles shot a glance at him and continued his quick perusal of the file.
"You realize, if I decided to allow you to re-enlist, you can't be reassigned your former rank?"
"Understood, sir."
"South City Cavalry?" Mile's eyebrow rose in query.
"Yes, sir before the, er, re-assignment."
Reassignment, Miles thought, glancing at the man before him. That was rich. Any Ishvallan soldiers who had been enlisted in the military had been ordered into interment camps through out Amestris. His was a notable exception, courtesy of General Armstrong. Information concerning these former soldiers was scarce as most had either faded into obscurity, died, or disappeared under mysterious circumstances. None had reappeared amongst the returning refugees.
Until now.
Something in Taige's dossier caught his eye. "Central City MP?"
"Yes, sir. MP of the MP." Taige's lips quirked in a slight smirk. "Mounted Patrol."
"That was your last assignment before being decommisioned?"
"Yes sir."
"Permission to speak freely, soldier." Miles said. "I must admit, this is a rarity."
"I'm aware of that, sir."
"In the South City Cavalry, what capacity were you in?
"Stable master and trainer."
"Horse breaker?"
"Horse master, sir. You don't break them."
Miles shot a glance at him. The man was speaking earnestly and freely as he had requested.
"And mounted patrol in Central, crowd control I take it?"
"Somewhat. I also trained there as well as other duties"
Miles frowned slightly, studying the records before him, noting several commendations but no actually recommendations. He smirked. Taige was Ishvallan, of course they'd pass him over.
"You're requesting off base housing? Unusual..."
"I've actually received housing, sir. I'm a returning refugee. It's been granted, just not built yet. I, uh, have a daughter, sir."
"I see. District?"
"Lejia, sir."
"Family?"
"None surviving, sir." Taige said simply. Inwardly, Miles sighed. There where many returnees in such a case. Still, something niggled at the back of his brain.
"A daughter you say? Who is watching her? Has she enrolled in the school yet?"
"Not yet, sir. She's able to see to herself," he added.
Miles detected an odd note in that last answer. "You've selected an area quite far from the garrison."
"Better for pasture, with a river flowing in Ishval again, we will be seeing more sahraati grass growing out there."
"Sahraati grass?" Miles asked, recognizing the Ishvallan wording, but not the meaning of it.
"Desert grass for horses, it's drought tolerant, a native grass. With extra water it will spread."
Ah, Miles connected the dots. A horse-breaker, scratch that, horse-master, what was the difference? They would want to have a place for horses. "Was this your family's trade?"
"Yes sir, we were about horses."
"Not going back to the family site?"
"It's gone sir. Nothing but craters out there. At least that's what the reports say in Central." He paused, a fleeting look in his eyes. "There's nothing left."
"I understand. Have you registered with Lieutenant Breda?"
"Yes, I've picked up a tent and a few supplies already, I've yet to make it out to the home site."
"When did you arrive?"
"A day ago. From Central, I went in to retrieve my file." He nodded at the item on Mile's desk. "With the rebuilding, it was surprisingly easy to get."
"I can't help but wonder, Taige. You're a returning Ishvallan soldier, having been interred in the camps. I've heard what particular kind of hell those have been. I've even run across an occasional brother soldier full of bitterness about that. You presenting yourself here is somewhat surprising."
"Ishvalla has his was of dealing with that kind of thing in his children. I have a daughter, I need employment and all I know is horses. There aren't any in Ishval right now," he gazed levelly at Miles. "But this fort has them. And I have heard about you. It's been a rough few years. We haven't had it easy. I know I'm stepping down in rank, but I have a child to feed."
It made sense, so long as a man wasn't so full of rage at what he had gone through. Miles pondered for a moment. Ishval's first shipment of horses had only arrived a week ago and it was indeed a sorry lot to look at. The stable master, a banty of a Sergeant with extremely bowed legs, had promised the Colonel up and down that the horses would be ready and settled with in another week.
"All right then, I think that sums it up." Miles said. "I won't tolerate resentment in my troops. We're here to rebuild, not only Ishval but each other's trust. Whatever bitterness and injuries we've had must be set aside to move forward. Am I clear on that?"
"Yes sir."
"Regretfully, the best I can do for now is re-enlist you as a Corporal." Miles watched for the reaction, detecting just a shade of paleness in the man's features. He hadn't been back in Ishval very long, the natural tan hadn't been fully brought out, it revealed his disappointed that much faster.
"Have you a problem with that?" Miles asked, a note of warning in his voice.
Taige instantly shook his head. "No sir, especially with this being a new garrison. I've been fully prepared for the results. Ishvala be praised," he offered a slight smile. "You're taking me back in. I've needed this."
Satisfactory answer, Miles thought. Plus it was pretty obvious the man needed something, anything to get back on his feet again.
"All right, Corporal, I'll give you a day or so to get settled. Report to Master Sergeant Benjamin the day after tomorrow. He'll have your assignment and duty roster set up for you. Just make sure not to leave here today without a uniform. Do you need an advance on your pay?"
"A small one wouldn't go amiss."
"Let him know," Miles rose to his feet again and extended a hand. For a brief moment his featured softened. "Doishteve na Ishval, brother. Welcome Home."
Taige gazed back at him, then reached out and gripped the hand in a firm, strong, grasp. He couldn't bring himself to reply. Just nodding his thanks, his red eyes revealing far more than he wished to the man across from him. Miles nodded back.
"Go get settled." Miles replied. "You're dismissed."
As Taige prepared to leave Miles added, "One more thing Corporal. You might want to speak with Saahad Imir at the school. He can get your girl enrolled for you. Just tell him I sent you."
There was a fraction of a hesitation on the man's part as he turned for the door, then he smiled and replied. "I'll do that, sir, and thank you."
Miles waved him off and waited until the door clicked shut before sitting down again. He glanced at the file. Taige had a good record, no known issues during his brief service. Seemed to be highly regarded by his officers. His marital status had been single with no children when he had first joined. Things changed though, and now there was just a child, a daughter. No wife...
Miles pondered thoughtfully. Something wasn't hitting the right note regarding the child. Taige wasn't volunteering information freely about her. Himself, yes, the child no. He was being cautious and discreet. Not a bad thing, usually an excellent quality in an intelligence officer. Maybe it was because he was a single father having to swallow an especially bitter pill. Re-enlisting in a military that had rejected and incarcerated him because of the colour of his hair and eyes had to be tough.
Whatever the reason, Miles had to secretly admit, it took a hell of a lot of guts to do what Taige had just done.