log; complete

[guardianed.livejournal.com]

When; BACKDATED [Dec. 10] After this.
Rating; PG
Characters; Riza Hawkeye [guardianed] & Olivier Armstrong [iron_ambition]
Summary; There's only so long you can bang around on the Police Force HQ doors before someone takes notice. And when it's ally from your home world, saying hello turns into a briefing session.
Log;

Major General Olivier Milla Armstrong had faced adversity every day since she'd chosen to put on a uniform. She had never backed down. She had never ran away from a fight. She had never regretted. She'd be damned if she ruined her reputation or honor by doing so now. Things she knew: she'd been transported somehow to a place called The City, she had no way of getting out, and while she was not alone, she was on her own. Sitting alone on a bench outside the cathedral, she unsheathed her sword and ran a hand down the blade.

She didn't pretend to understand what had happened, but she could accept it. There were stranger things that had happened. Armstrong studied her reflection on the blade. There wasn't anything special about it. In many ways, it was a face easily forgotten, save for the look in her eye. That was a look that had, since childhood, struck unease and fear into many people. It had once done so even to herself. Leaning further back in her seat and resting one ankle over a knee, she balanced her sword perfectly on the palm of her hand.

"Well, so what is the next logical thing to do?" she muttered. She would have to get settled in. She would need a permanent place of residence. A job that would not drive her to madness, and she would need to know just who else was here. Know one's enemies. Speaking of enemies, she would need to figure out what to do with Kimblee. She had never liked the man, but she had no real reason to avoid him, other than his propensity for attracting shady characters.

Standing up, she sheathed her sword and quickly strode towards the police station. She would need Hawkeye's assistance. Thinking about the young woman brought a slight smile to her lips. "Chief of Police, eh? Very appropriate."


The General's arrival was hardly something that could go unnoticed for long, even if you had been sequestered in your office for long days, trying to get piles of paperwork that never quite seemed to disappear. And that's precisely what the Lieutenant had been doing for the past ...week? Two weeks? It had a tendency to blend together after a certain level of stress was reached, and Hawkeye had definitely reached it. How many ongoing cases did the police have going now? Not that she could honestly lose track, with the neatly filed paperwork on each one sitting on her desk.

She didn't mind spending long days at the office. She'd done it often enough back home. But here, she had Hayate to worry about. As safe as he was out back, she couldn't count on Fuery or Falman to go check up on him every once in a while. He was a good dog, but he was still a puppy.

She settled back into her chair, pulling the latest report from Intel towards her and starting to read with a sigh. This was her least favorite part of the day-- reading about new atrocities she couldn't protect people from. The network device lay forgotten on the corner of the desk; police work came first, and there'd been a lot of it- so she remained blissfully - perhaps - unaware of the familiar force wending its way towards her front door.


Armstrong took a moment to study the building from across the street. It was an impressive sight, she had to admit. She wondered how old it was, and how long Hawkeye had been in charge of it. Did time pass differently here? What would happen once she got home? Shaking her head as if it would do anything for the thoughts filling up her head, she made her way to the doors. A blast cold air hit her face, and her eyes rapidly took in the lobbey, its inhabitants, and noticed the cameras eyeing her. That's right. Spread the word that a General has arrived.


News spreads quickly, and it wasn't long before someone poked their head into her office after knocking politely. "Lieutenant Hawkeye, ma'am...I think you have a visitor."

He thought? And a visitor? That was unusual at best. Standing quickly, she filed the document she'd gotten halfway through reading, and left her office, checking behind her with a quick glance-- no, there was nothing left exposed.

Descending the stairs, the Lieutenant took a detour to glance at the screens in the security room that showed the lobby-- and stopped dead. Major General Armstrong? The Queen of Briggs had made it to the City again. No wonder the poor office hand had said 'I think'- they were wearing the same uniform. Hawkeye shook her head. If it was the Major General, it wouldn't do at all to keep her waiting.

The rest of the stairs went rather quickly, and Hawkeye opened the door to the lobby, taking a few steps towards the other woman before saluting with practiced ease, surprise still mildly evident on her face. "General Armstrong."


Olivier turned from her inspection of the lobby at the sound of Lt. Hawkeye's voice. She noticed the salute and acknowledged it with a faint nod, allowing the lieutenant to relax. Remaining silent, she studied the other woman. She hadn't changed much, other than looking slightly older. That was due, Olivier noticed, partly to the lines of strain etched onto her face. Clearly, and not surprisingly, being in charge here was a daily tribulation. Still, Hawkeye had risen to the challenge. If nothing else, Olivier respected that.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye. It has been a while."

She wished that this particular meeting was under different circumstances, for both their sakes, but judging by the look on Hawkeye's face, her feelings were both understood and redundant.


The blonde dropped the salute, falling into a pose that was half attention, half commanding officer. She was in charge, in this building, but the Major General still held rank. "So it has, Ma'am." A slight pause, in which the Lieutenant shot an assessing look at the older woman-- how much had she been told about the City, how it worked, how Amestris worked here? ...There was only one way to find out. Hawkeye closed her eyes for half a moment, before opening them again. Likely she would need to do a lot of explaining after her next comment.

"...And likely slightly longer for me than for you."


Olivier appreciated the familiar gestures of respect that her command brought her. She doubted Hawkeye knew just how much. Still...

"There's no need to stand on protocol, Hawkeye. Circumstances have greatly changed for the both of us."

It was then that Hawkeye's last comment fully struck her. Her previous thoughts about how time worked here as oppose to back home returned. She met Hawkeye's gaze with a steady eye and allowed only a slight pursing of her lips.

"Hm. I had wondered. Perhaps we should take this to a more private setting? No doubt your explanations won't be short and sweet."


Hawkeye based her life on protocol. Of course there was need to stand on protocol. It was just that here, the protocol tended to morph into something different from usual. Circumstances have changed, though-- Hawkeye had to work to keep a bitterly wry smile from appearing on her face. The General had no idea how true that was.

So she merely held the other woman's gaze. "Of course, General."

She turned back to the door she'd come from, unlocking it and holding it open. "I'm afraid explaining the situation here will take some time, as you say."

Hawkeye was already busy thinking about where to go, what she'd need, how much she needed to explain, where she'd need to start, what papers the General would require. There were small conference rooms unused- one of them would do for where. If she wanted a copy of her notes, she could do that. Where to start...was trickier. But she'd done it at least twice already for the Colonel, and twice with the General-- she didn't like having this much practice at explaining this place, but someone had to.

"If you'll follow me, General."


As Olivier followed Hawkeye deeper into the building, she felt a headache forming behind her eyes. It would be the first of many, she knew. Rolling her shoulders back, she forced herself to remember the route they were taking.

"In order to avoid covering old ground, you should know that I met one of your subordinates already. Interesting man. He gave me the general gist of what exactly this place is, along with some of its more interesting characteristics. And I've already memorized a map, though its accuracy may or may not be high."

Olivier wondered where the woman who had given her the map went. She would have to find her after this business was over.


One of her subordinates-- that meant someone in the force. "Oh? Who was that?" And if he'd already briefed the General on the City, all the better. Hawkeye stopped, pulling open a door to a small conference room-- really just a room with a round table in it, nothing fancy -- and waiting for the other woman to enter.

She shrugged. "The map is a relatively new addition to the City. Before, you were able to think yourself to wherever you wanted to be. As it stands there are plenty of unexplored and uncharted places within the City- the map is by no means thorough."


"I believe his name was Lord Gilbert G.P. Guilford. He gave me the guide. Kimblee was the one who directed me to you."

Olivier remembered her conversations with Kimblee. She frowned. That had been an...unpleasant surprise. She swept past Hawkeye into the room. Instead of taking a seat, she leaned against the wall nearest to the table and folded her arms.

"Kimblee isn't the only one I've met. Ed appears to be here, as well as his mechanic. Is there anyone else I should be aware of? I would like to avoid any unnecessary surprises in the future."

Olivier had a thought. "Is Mustang here? I had assumed not, but..."


"Ah. Guilford's a good officer- reliable. I'm glad you've seen the guide, that'll save some time."

Kimblee would have sent the General to her- the Crimson seemed to delight in her position sometimes. Why was beyond her, but Hawkeye had never wanted to understand the way he thought.

The door safely shut, the Lieutenant stepped forward, resting her hands on the back of a chair, unwilling to sit as the General stayed standing.

Edward and Winry as well-- Hawkeye mentally kicked herself for her lapse of attention to the network. Especially those two-- they were still children. Edward could usually take care of himself, but he was hotheaded, and Winry...well. Winry had been in sticky situations before, because she didn't realize the dangers. Edward must have told her, but still. She should at the least keep an eye on them. "At my last tally, besides the Crimson, Lust and Envy were both present, along with a woman named Lyra who may or may not be a danger to us."

There was not even the slightest of pauses before she addressed the last query, eyes closing as she replied. "The Colonel is not present." And it was better that way, she reminded herself. It was better for him to stay in Amestris, to do what he needed to do, and to let herself come join him when she could.


Olivier Armstrong had sharp eyes. Living in a world of white where lines blurred and disappeared had given her that much, and so it wasn't a surprise that she noticed something in Hawkeye's manner that was different. Hawkeye was the epitome of efficient, untouchable professionalism, but Olivier was shrewd and even a little suspicious of most everyone. She noticed. She did not say anything.

"Hm. Lust and Envy. Homunculi. My dealings with those have been few. I don't recognize the latter. You say this Lyra may be dangerous? You have her under surveillance?"

Answer one question and five more inevitably follow. Another rule in life. She'd take that seat now. Pushing off the wall, she sat down heavily. She needed sleep. But first...


Hawkeye allowed the General to sit, hands resting calmly on the back of the chair-- but the question about Lyra...required more explanation than a mere reply of yes or no, and the Lieutenant knew it was courteous to seat herself for the ranking officer.

"I've dealt with both of them a few times; mostly I've managed to keep myself out of trouble. Kimblee has, no doubt, been in touch with them."

Lyra. Lyra was a story in and of herself-- but where to start explaining?

"She does not exist in our version of Amestris, General." There- jump in at the deep end, and explain your way out. The blonde took a deep breath before launching into the explanation.

"When I arrived, there were two populations of people from Amestris. As far as I could determine, the timeline of Amestris was the same up until the Colonel's reassignment to Central HQ, whereupon events began to diverge. The recent past for the other version of Amestris and our own ... had nothing to do with each other. The homunculi from the other Amestris are constructed a little differently-- they regenerate faster, for instance, and can't be destroyed in the same way as the ones we've fought in Amestris." A pause.

"There is a woman named Dante in that other copy of Amestris, who's responsible for the homunculi in that world. If Lyra is Dante, then she poses a threat. Edward-- a previous version of Edward, from that copy -- mentioned that it might be the case. She was certainly filtering her network entries from myself, the Colonel, and Edward for some time; after Edward left she continued to filter them from me. I've done what surveillance I can-- I know she has had contact with Kimblee at least once."


Olivier took a moment to let that sink in. Alternate universes. Another Amestris. Another Ed. Another...her? Hm. Perhaps not. What is in one world does not necessarily have to be in the other. Timelines are obviously different. People could not possibly be the same, all things considered. She may be someone the complete opposite of her current self. What had Kimblee said? Something about welcome back? Had she been here before- not her current self, but her other self? Would she even remember if she, her present self, had?

Olivier let out a sigh. "I see. So this Dante, in her Amestris, assumes the position of the bearded man in our Amestris. She is the leader, the driving force behind their plans. And she is here, perhaps posing as someone else. It seems to me that she poses less of a threat here than she did in Amestris...the other Amestris."

Olivier steepled her fingers underneath her chin. "After all, she cannot on her own decide who to bring and who to send away. She cannot control The City as one might otherwise be able to do. There are too many unusual rules...too many unknowns. Alchemy is still able to be done, correct? Has she made any new homunculi? That would be something."

The questions kept coming, but Olivier thought they had less to do with The City and more to do with what her next move was. Accepting that there was an alternate reality was easily done. Many soldiers had often pondered fundamental questions like that while separated from their families during missions, especially in wartime. War made people think. Knowing that there were people from the other Amestris wasn't difficult either. Logic dictated that it must be so. Dealing with them...however...especially if...

"Kimblee's association with her isn't surprising. He has a taste for the dark and powerful." One hand tapped the table as she thought. "So, unless there is more pertinent information, I only have three questions. Am I in this other Amestris, where can I find billeting, and is there a place where my particular skills could be useful?"


Hawkeye nodded at the other woman's assessment of Lyra. "Precisely. I do not believe she has made any new homunculus; at any rate, no new homunculus have showed up in the City. However, if she were planning such a thing, I doubt I would hear about it. Alchemy, however, does still function. The Crimson and the Colonel, the last time he was here, were both able to use their skills."

The Lieutenant shrugged slightly, one arm laid down on the table. "Kimblee's association with her is unsurprising if she is Dante, and part of why I suspect that she might be. I have no proof at the moment, but it is something to keep in mind."

The barrage of questions was expected- the City tended to pose them, and for allies from Amestris in particular- a double of their own world seemed to be unique to Amestris, for whatever reason. And Hawkeye was used to replying to questions quickly, succinctly, and giving as much information as was needed at the moment-- that was, after all, her job. "You, General, are an exception, and have no counterpart in the other Amestris. You were, however, present in the City at three other points in time. As far as housing, many of the apartments are empty, and it will suffice to choose one. Depending on the size and luxury of the apartment, the rent varies." Her own was small, sparsely decorated, and cost little. Like home.

"As far as work--", she hesitated for a moment, before spreading her hands. "Most likely, the closest thing to working in the military in Amestris is the police force, if that's something you're interested in, General." Her gaze was direct and illusionless. "There are no laws to protect here except those of the right to life of every citizen. We try and protect the people."


Olivier nodded. "Understandable. That kind of business would only be done in the darkest corners, and there are far too many of those in this place."

She leaned back in her chair and her face took on a predatory grin. "Well, perhaps I can be of some service despite this mess. If I had no double, then both my knowledge and abilities are still relatively unknown to those who would have interest in them."

She stood up abruptly. "I will look into finding an appropriate place to stay. I have very little wants beyond the necessary. As for the work, I'd find it troublesome to attempt a new lifestyle now."

She felt surprisingly good now that all cards had been placed on the table. Anticipation was running like a drug through her system. It was almost like...when she first started out. That was quite a long time ago, she mused. Still, she hadn't lost all her fire to the cold snow of Briggs. It was time to feed the spark.


The grin would have been concerning had the Lieutenant not seen it many times before-- it meant she was planning something. "That is so." She herself had no such advantage. Nor did the Colonel. Nor Edward or Winry-- she could go down the list. Precious few people seemed to have that benefit.

Hawkeye rose with the other woman; old habits for ranking officers die hard, after all, and nodded curtly. "Understood. Let me know if you need anything further, General Armstrong."


As Olivier moved to leave the room, she paused at Hawkeye's side. "There are few people, Hawkeye, who earn my respect..and even fewer ever learn of their accomplishment. I've heard from many people that this place is a hell-hole. I understand that. I didn't doubt it."

She searched for her next words. "Survival of the fittest. That's what I live by, and I expect every one of those under my command to do the same...but even I recognize that point at which the strain can be too much. Take care of yourself, Hawkeye, and remember that it goes both ways."

Keeping her eyes ahead, her last words as she left the room were, "I'll get back to you about work opportunity, Lieutenant."


Yes Ma'am was what she should have said. Yes Ma'am is what should have been trained into her brain, to fall from her tongue at any moment. But that had been the Queen of Briggs, the famed Ice Queen, telling her to take care of herself.

This place may be a hellhole. But was it any more so than Amestris? Were the challenges here that much worse than Amestris, with a government watching your every move, a superior officer that could see through far too many of her precautions, a first family that was nothing but a sham, and the knowledge that she could be killed at any moment by a creature that watched from the shadows?

No. No, here was hellish because things you'd never seen before were thrown at you. Because your control was taken from you bit by bit, 24 hours by 24 hours. Because you grow anxious about the world that waits for you at home. Because things you shouldn't ever have to deal with...need to be dealt with. But it was no more challenging than home. Less crucial, somehow.

There should be no reason for the Major General to concern herself over a Lieutenant's stress level, when that stress level is no worse than normal. Less, actually, considering the allies she'd gathered in the form of the police officers.

It'd been so unexpected that the Lieutenant's surprise had shown, blatantly. Her eyes had flown open, glancing at the General as she spoke. She'd not had the self-control in front of a ranking officer she needed; the sympathy- no, not sympathy... solicitude? of the other had rattled her.

The door had closed before she realized she should have responded. Should have let the 'Yes Ma'am, thank you Ma'am' fall from her tongue, instead of the stifled "What?" that had been there instead.

Hawkeye passed a hand over her eyes. It had been a compliment, she knew. But it had seemed like a challenge- like she needed to be better able to cope with this, to not find that point of too much strain. It was always challenges, in the City.

The City's Chief of Police turned, shut the door, and went back to her office. There was work to be done, and she couldn't waste time dwelling.