💣 003 | audio

[devoutish]

Yeah. This Christmas thing. It's just fucking over the top, innit? You do know we're barely into December? You need to calm down, all of you.

[Alfie's tone is chiding, but in a light and teasing way that isn't really meant to be taken as a serious condemnation - he's actually been in an okay mood these past couple of weeks. This is just one more car on the culture shock train. The Christmas celebrations and decorations that he's is used to seeing at home are much more subdued, and definitely don't start this early in the season.]

Is this an American custom, or a twenty-first century custom? If I were to pay a visit across the ocean, would the Europeans be kicking up this much of a fuss? Fucking hell.

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[devoutish]

Goodness, you're a bundle of joy, aren't you.

[darwinatrix]

[Dryly.] Yes, so I've been told.

[She can do sarcastic, at least.] Where I'm from, we don't have the time to spend on frivolous things.

[devoutish]

And you're from--?

[darwinatrix]

The country's name is Amestris. You haven't heard of it, or at least it doesn't exist here.

I'm stationed at the fort guarding our nation's northern border. [In reality, she runs it, but why brag?]

[devoutish]

A soldier, then?

[There's surprise in his voice.]

[darwinatrix]

Of a sort.

You sound surprised. Not used to military types?

[devoutish]

Very used to them.

[But he's not used to them being women.]

I was a soldier myself, once upon a time.

[darwinatrix]

Is that so? [She makes a soft hmph of thought.] What changed?

[devoutish]

The war ended. We came home.

[darwinatrix]

Hmph. Fortunate, I suppose.

The Briggs mountain range forms the border between my nation and Drachma, our neighbors to the north. My fort monitors the only pass through which anyone could march an army and haul artillery.

Drachma is large, and expansionist. They would roll their tanks into Amestris at any day, if they thought Briggs might fall. There may not be open war, but there is no going home for any of us. Only vigilance.

[devoutish]

A different sort of war from ours, then. Our governments - they signed treaties, made promises.

What rank are you? Have you got rank?

[darwinatrix]

I have.

Major-General Olivier Armstrong. Back home, I command Fort Briggs. Here, I command RISE.

A treaty with the Drachmans is worth the paper it's signed on. The only thing they understand is the thunder of my artillery.

[devoutish]

RISE. That's imPort suppression, innit?

[darwinatrix]

Of a sort. We're more typically described as an imPort police force.

Better we do it ourselves than give that duty to the government.

[devoutish]

Yeah. Is that out of a lack of trust, or a lack of desire to burden them?

[darwinatrix]

I suppose every RISE agent would have their own answer to that question.

[devoutish]

But right now, I'm asking you.

[darwinatrix]

Competence.

Better I do it than someone else. At least I can trust myself to do it right.

[devoutish]

And if you get ported out?

[darwinatrix]

...Briggs is a harsh climate. It breeds strong men; the weak don't last long. Every single one of my soldiers knows that no man's life comes before the success of the mission. None of us are too valuable to lose, not even me.

They are drilled. They are trained. They are strong. Even if I die, I have the utmost confidence that my men would remain strong and follow their orders.

I can build an organization that lasts beyond me.

[devoutish]

That's impressive. Many men can't say the same.

[darwinatrix]

I'm aware.

So you can understand my lack of appreciation for frivolous things.

[devoutish]

In the war, we used frivolous things to distract ourselves, when we had the time. We would have gone out of our heads if we didn't.

[darwinatrix]

There's a difference between my men playing cards in their downtown and the sort of ostentatious celebrations the civilian population holds here.

Resources are precious.

[devoutish]

Here? They don't seem to be. This, right here, is a land of excess.