Flashback Trace

[Guest]

[Undisclosed time before the war in April]

It all began a few days back. I've never been one to question the actions of intentions of by superior officers. But ever since I got this position her in South it's been my job to keep an eye on everything. And ever since I fucked up and lost my hearing because of it, I can see things others don't. No, not like spirits or that nonsense. I mean that I notice small details. I can see the little signs people give off, I can see the subtle changes that mark the face when someone's happy, or sad, or afraid, or when they lie. I can't hear the words people say. I can't hear them express what they're feeling or thinking. So I try to read them. But once you start reading people, its hard to ignore what you see. Someone says one thing, but they don't mean it. I know when they're trying to cover up a mistake. They lie through their teeth and I can see it in their eyes. And I can also tell what someone is feeling, even when they say everything is just fine. I've always tried to keep to myself ever since I joined the military. I stopped being naive to certain things a while ago. Its not like I never knew that people lied so often before I could read them. People lie whenever it can benefit them, I can't deny that. But its always been easy for me to just ignore that. I joined the military and I made a name for myself; All because I stopped caring about others and just focused on myself. You don't look into other people's lives and you don't let them look into yours.
But when you can't hear the words people say, and you can't hear the world spin around you, its hard to just cast a blind eye on the people in your life.
And so that's how things were, and that's how I first noticed my commanding officer, Brigadier General Brighton acting strangely.
Whenever we spoke there was always something about her that seemed 'off'. I noticed that despite being the central authority in South HQ, she seemed on edge, and lurked about at times, as if she were hiding something, or hiding from something. What was even more strange was her probing into South's central archives. As the Commander, she has complete access to most of the information in our databanks, and I shouldn't be one to question her research as an alchemist. But in keeping this operation running smoothly, I can't overlook the details. And the details point to the fact that she's been looking into files and then erasing any trace of evidence that she had gone through them. And most of the archives I can find traces of her visiting are all above my clearance to look into.
For someone so mild and outwardly lax for a military commander, she seems to have a shadow larger than herself, if you know what I mean. Its all a ruse, a superficial act. Somethings going on with her. Maybe it's curiosity, or duty towards my job, or maybe my hurt sense of trust for those highest up ever since the betrayal of the Fuhrer whom I swore my fealty to when I first joined the military, or maybe just concern for my commanding officer, but I can't overlook something that has ingrained itself into my thoughts.
When I tried to ask her if anything was the matter, even trying to be as casual and nonchalant as I could be, she insisted that she was just fine. I asked her if something was troubling her, something serious, and she denied it. But I could see in her eyes, and the lines of that false smile that she was lying. But it wasn't a malicious lie, from what I could see. Her eyes weren't suspicious of me, and they didn't grow defensive and guarded if she were up to something I shouldn't no about, or if I were asking for something classified that I had no business knowing as a lower ranked personnel. Instead, to my confusion, I saw something akin to pain, and fear.
I was in too deep at this point. I cant' blind myself to what I can see. If I do that, then I'm just trapped in darkness. So I started to investigate Brighton in my spare time. I told myself it was just my duty towards my job and my commander, but it became somewhat of an obsession. I kept an eye on her when I could, I kept record of her movements in headquarters and noted when she left. Maybe it was wrong of me to intrude upon her life like that. It went against my own personal creed. But my suspicions weren't misplaced. She seemed to simply vanish at odd times. One day, I slipped out of the offices shortly after left on one of her short absences, which were always irregular. I kept my distance when I tailed her, hiding behind other people on the street, or hanging far back to where cars and buildings could conceal me. She stopped at a lakeside cafe about twenty minutes away from headquarters. It seemed innocent enough, to just be dropping by a favourite place for coffee. Across the street and through the window, I watched her walk in, looking around tentatively, as if she were expecting something uncertain. She walked up to the counter and said something to the server, which I could only assume to be an order for food or a drink. But as soon as her lips stopped moving, a person in the back wearing a dark coloured jacked and sunglasses stood up and left shortly after placing something, probably a tip, on the counter.
I didn't think much of it at first. The time of it didn't seem strange. That is, it didn't seem odd until Brighton moved to the back of the cafe and sat at the same table the shady man had been eating at. It had already been cleaned off by a waitress, I think, but still, there had been plenty of seats open in the cafe, it wasn't exactly a busy time of day.
I couldn't see enough from so far away, so I decided to take a risk. I crossed the street and walked into the diner just seconds after she sat down. Just as I entered, I caught a glimpse of her producing a small brown pocket envelope from, what I could only guess, was beneath her chair. The same chair the suspicious character had been sitting at. In all my time working as a special operative in the military, I had been trained to pick out an exchange like that, and I had no doubt in my mind that I had just witnessed an exchange of information between two individuals who did not which to be seen conversing with one another.
I entered the store, went straight to the counter, and then placed my order. I pretended not to notice Brighton, and she didn't notice me until moments afterwards. But even then I pretended to be in my own little world. I figured it was only fair. I usually keep to myself when I want to. As far as anyone else should care, I don't pay mind to people around me because I don't want to. And that's half true. I don't want to pay mind to people, and I pretend not to care. But I do notice people, and what they do.
Still, I just ate my food and never looked back at her. But it wasn't long before I felt a tap on my shoulder and found Brighton standing behind me. She seemed friendly, despite the circumstances I found her in. Crazy thing was, she wasn't just faking niceties to hide suspicion. Which I personally found odd, given that I just happened to waltz in a cafe I've never been to at the very moment she had been up to shady stuff.
Anyway, I returned my half-assed smile I always have and waited patiently for her to scribble something down on a napkin. She asked me trivial things about my dad, how I was doing, if I came here often. I feigned feigning interest, if that makes any sense. I was interested in everything she had to ask me, looking for any obvious jab at my being her, but for the sake of not seeming outside of my usual self, I pretended that I was only pretending to be interested in small talk.
I didn't say much after she sat down with me. I never say much anyway, what I mean is, I didn't write responses longer than a sentence. Eventually she seemed content and we both finished our lunch and headed back to HQ.
I haven't said anything to her since outside of work related things, but today I decided to confront her about everything.
Well not really confront, exactly. More like inquire personally. I didn't want to report her for suspicious behavior. I could have been misreading the entire situation. Besides, I just didn't really believe that she was up to something bad. Brighton never seemed like a bad person. But still, something seemed wrong...



Nika gave a soft sigh as she gripped the note between her fingers. It was just a yellow sticky note which a crude message was scribbled onto in haphazard haste.

"Let's go out later to grab a bite to eat and shop"

Normally Nika wouldn't dream of asking a high ranking officer to go on a casual outing with her. It just wasn't done. But Commander Brighton was something of a social butterfly it seemed. She was so casual with her soldiers that it still shocked Nika time to time. On a few occasions Brighton had tried to get her to tag along to places after work, but Nika always declined. So this time she was hoping Brighton would jump at the opportunity to go out and... shop. Hell, that last time Nika had been shopping was....never. Her wardrobe was pretty much limited to her uniform, her coat, boots, socks, a few pairs of men's boxers and jeans and casual t-shirts for wear around the house. She could probably fit everything in her closet into a suitcase with room to spare. Even after giving up on disguising herself as a man in the military, she never really bothered to set herself up with girl's clothes. It just seemed weird at this point. She hadn't lived as a girl in years.

Still, this was the best way to lower Brighton's guard and ask her about everything. Nika had already prepared a letter folded away in her pocket, which read, in obviously thought out and well written handwriting:

Dear Brigadier General Brighton,

I apologize for possible insubordination, but I've been watching your movements in and out of South HQ. As part of my job, I have noticed imprints of your presence from digging around in South's archives and possible suspicion in your demeanor. I apologize again, for accusing you of anything that might prove false, but I admit to witnessing the exchange between you and that man in the dark jacket last Tuesday in that Cafe. I do not mean to accuse you of treason, but I cannot bring myself to belief that such an exchange was conducted with another member of our military unless it was an illegal transaction, or a transaction with someone from outside the military whom you cannot be seen dealing with. Out of concern for both you and South's Military, I ask that you honestly share the truth with me, or I will have no choice but to report you to the military authorities.


Nika took a deep breath and rapped her fingers on the door of the Brigadier General. If she wasn't here, she would leave the sticky note on her door. The day was almost over and they would both be leaving their offices soon. Hopefully the Commander didn't have any other plans this evening, or for the rest of the week, if today was no good.

[Shula Brighton]

South HQ was many things; over the years it had a reputation for being the most beautiful of the bases, even at the turn of the century. It was known for the gardens people had worked into the arid area. But there had also been an attitude that seemed to be bred within the halls of South, and when Aaron had started there and even when Shula had, it had been unmistakable. There had been a program going on, like incentive, trying to get more Ishvallans to integrate into the military and stop keeping themselves so apart from everything. Nice intentions, she'd supposed, but wrong method. All through training and starting at South, Shula had gotten nothing but shit for it, people excited to meet the granddaughter of Eyes High and then losing all enthusiasm upon seeing that she wasn't Amestrian. It had been what prompted her to cut and dye her hair, forcing herself to try and be as Amestrian as possible, even though she and her best friend knew it was a lie.

But that South was gone now, and Spade had handed it over to her to recreate from its ashes something better. There were changes now that she'd never seen while she was here before, South City a cultural melting pot where the lines blurred between cultures and leaving only people. She'd taken a more lax attitude from learning from Spade and how he managed things, though she was more timely on the paperwork. But she saw something at Central that worked and brought the staff closer together through it, and did her best to emulate that. Orders weren't given, instead, tasks were arranged and asked, and worked around if there was an actual problem. But because of this, there were fewer problems with things getting done. The strict codes of formality and rank were dropped, Shula insisting she be on a first-name basis with the people who worked for her and trying to make time to not just be the person in the office on the top floor who signed stuff. South HQ wasn't made of forms and mindless orders and equally mindless drones fulfilling them; South was people with real lives and feelings and things to contribute in ways they might not have thought of yet. And Shula liked to be personal and personable with her staff to make sure that no opportunity was wasted, everything from bringing treats to the secretarial pool and randomly buying something sweet to leave in the break room to asking staff members to join her for drinks or dinner after hours. Just just the officers and higher-ranking personnel, but the everyone.

Many didn't take her up on such offers, but she wasn't Spade; Shula didn't have the kind of charisma that he'd had that could talk his underlings into random all-night outings and partying. It did help, though, and Shula knew it. South was different than it had been for the many many years it had been and defied the traditions that had been laid and wiped clean. South wasn't just the third largest base defending Amestris; Shula saw to it that South was more like family. The love of family was stronger than that of country or rank, and would help the area stand together stronger against opposition and help itself solve problems. The day was nearly done, Shula gathering her things but not in any hurry to go home. She didn't have tomorrow off, and neither did Spade. You'd think at their ranks they'd be able to make their schedules work more easily, but in fact, it just meant less free time since your time was devoted to managing everything under the sun. And when she couldn't go to Central and spend time with her fiance, the Ishvallan's time was dedicated to South, figuring out how to amp up its defenses, or her unending research. She really missed when her research was for more honest reasons, like when she'd accidentally perfected her plant alchemy, or advancing her fire. Not this. Not research from ancient books stained too dark and deeply with blood.

As the pencil flipped back and forth in her fingers, Rose had already gone home for the day, the secretary's desk positioned outside of Shula's office unmanned. The knock that bounced off Shula's office door caught her attention, reminding her that most of the staff were heading out now. Last minute file run? she wondered. Ah well. It was the end of the day, so even if it was something that needed doing, it wasn't hurting anything. "It's open," Shula called out, checking over her desk to make sure that anything important was either put away or so heavily coded that not even Spade would be able to curl up with it and read it like she did with her cheezy detective novels. All was good, and she waited, but nobody responded. Maybe their hands were full? Oh god if it were the doctor from R&D up to show her a new toy or that creepy janitor being creepy... She got up from her desk and crossed her office and its sitting space, opening the door only to find Nika there of all people. Well, that was a nice surprise! The officer transferred to South by Daigoro personally who always seemed to keep to herself. Shula opened the door wide to invite her in, smiling warmly and pushing away the lingering traces of tiredness off her face as best she could.

"Hi, Nika!" Even if Nika couldn't hear her, Shula had figured by now if she said some things slowly, Nika could figure out what she was saying. Nika didn't look armed with more work, so that ruled that out, maybe. Shula moved back to her desk, grabbing the small dry erase board she started keeping there. The marker moved across the plastic quickly, bright purple letters littering the white. What can I do for you? There was a yellow note in Nika's hand which made its way to her own hand. Nika... wanted to go get dinner and hang out? Really?! AND SHOP?!?! Food + Shopping + Officer she'd been trying to get to warm up since she got here... It was as if the cosmos had decided Shula had earned a break in all her hard work and was being rewarded with three things she adored coming together at once. The purple marker ran against the board again under her original message. I LOVE this plan! Even on silent, the enthusiasm was genuine and shining through, Shula more than happy to put aside her research and put off a nap in favour of spending time with someone else doing something not work-related and actually fun.

[Shula Brighton]

{BUMP}

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