Wowie Jee Bob. Two in one day?
Well, I've had this in my head for awhile. Ever since I got vol. 15 of FMA. And in the anime, Wrath was planning to send armies to Drachma, specifically to kill Mustang. In this, Mustang can't go, but there will be a reason for that. I promise.
No one in my family is an army person. The closest my family gets is my Dad working at an army base (he's a mechanic type person). I thought the beginning up while watching Grace Is Gone. Not a great movie, but it inspired a little bit of gray matter.
Anyway, this is kind of going to be a... Blair Witch Project sort of deal. I hope you like it.
My favorite character in this is probably Benchley. Just... for the record. XD
P.S. I don't know if the Drachmites have that kind of accent. Or Brogue... what ever. But I like an Irish Accent, so Benchley has one. XP
Edward stood outside of the military HQ in Central, feeling a bit sick. When he became a State Alchemist, he'd understood that he'd have to do stupid, useless things because he was "on a leash". But he'd never even contemplated something like this.
He was going to war.
Drachma had been getting bolder. Attacking Northern HQ constantly. The President, who Edward knew was the Homunculus Wrath, had taken the opportunity to go to war two years ago, when Edward was 16. Now, with the war near it's end, "King Bradley" called for extermination. No refusals. Every state alchemist under the rank of Colonel was called to battle. The others would stay to defend Amestris.
Edward was a Major. Armstrong was a Major. Countless State Alchemists were of lower rank then Colonel. The new ones, anyway.
Hawkeye, Havoc and Fury were also called to war. And Fallman was called to some HQ, east or west, whichever. And Breda had long since been shoved into the battle front.
Mustang wasn't allowed to go.
For the last two years he'd pulled every string he had, cashed in every favor, to try to either go out into battle, or bring out his friends. The answer, no matter what he did, was no.
Now Alphonse stood outside the gates, playing with some kittens that were in a box outside. How was Edward supposed to tell him?
"Fullmetal," a deep voice called from behind him. Edward took a deep breath, then turned. Mustang. "Come back tomorrow at 8 a.m. You have to meet the other Alchemists in your…" He looked up at Alphonse, who came up.
"In his what?" The boy asked innocently. Mustang looked at Edward, who nodded.
"His squad, Alphonse." Mustang said softly. Alphonse stared.
"Squad? Huh?" Edward took a deep breath, like a kid about to jump off a high dive.
"There's a war in Drachma-"
"Duh." Alphonse said promptly. Edward smiled sadly and took out the sheet of paper.
"'All State Alchemists under the rank of Colonel are to be sent to war the first day of September. All others will stay and fight on Eastern and Western borders. There will be no exceptions.
Signed: President King Bradley.'"
The was a minute of silence as Alphonse absorbed this. Mustang walked off, towards Hawkeye. And people walked around them, like they were rocks in a stream.
Hes
"War? Y-you're being… called to war?" Alphonse asked, horrified.
"Yeah, Al. War. In Drachma. To…" Ed shuddered. "Exterminate the Drachmites. And you heard. No exceptions."
Al took hold of Ed's wrist and dragged him around a corner. Then he whirled around.
"You can't go!"
"I have to."
"If you go, you might…"
"Yeah… I might."
The sound of sobbing echoed out of the hollow suit of armor. Ed's shoulders slumped. Hesitantly, Ed wrapped his short arms around Al's steel waist, which was the best he could do. Al fell to his knees and returned the hug.
"I'm not gonna, tho', Al. You can bet on that."
--
Edward stood outside the Central HQ, wondering if he was supposed to go in, or wait out here. It was down pouring, and it made sense to go inside. He could wait inside. And if Mustang was expecting him outside, well tough beef sticks.
A person wrapped up in green cloak ran up, cursing as hail started to fall. Ed quickly held the door open for him. The man shot him a grateful look, and waited for him inside the foyer.
"Well, couldn' get more depressin' and/or ominous then that, aye?" said the men, jerking his thumb towards the jagged lightning that cut the horizon in half, which was closely followed by a deafening boom of thunder.
"Ha. Yeah, seriously." Ed agreed, pulling his wet hood off of his head, and fluffing his hair. The men pulled his scarf from around his head and face, revealing a young, handsome face pale skin and topped with black hair. A Drachmite.
The Drachmite read Ed's shocked look correctly.
"Ah. Don' worry, mate. I'm a State Alchemist, jus like you." He pulled out the tell-tale silver pocket watch. "Squad 369." Ed blinked, and took out the piece of paper Mustang had given him.
"I'm in that squad," he muttered. The Drachmite laughed.
"Well then! How you do? I'm Nicholas Benchley, the 'Ice Alchemist'. You?"
"Edward Elric. The 'Fullmetal Alchemist'." Edward replied, shocked that a Drachmite was able to stay in the Military for this long.
"Really? Interestin'. I heard tell tha' Fullmetal was comin', but I didn' think 'e'd he in my squad. Hehe," he patted Ed on the head. "Yer jus as short as Mustang said." Ed's temper flared.
"WHO'RE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE WOULD ESCAPE THE WRATH OF A SHOE BECAUSE HE'S SO SMALL HE'D FIT IN THE GROOVES?!"
Nicholas burst out laughing. "Well, wasn' expectin' tha'. Yer a purty interesting' guy, Ed." He grinned down at the shocked teen. "Sorry 'bout tha'. I'm basically an idiot. So I'll do tha', from time to time. And I 'ope I don' tick you off on account of my brogue. I can' control it or nothing'."
"O-oh. Yeah… Of course. Now, uh. Do you know where we're supposed to go? You know? To meet the others?"
"Oh, aye! This way!" Nicholas motioned for him to follow, and walked down the hall. Edward followed. "You can call me Nick, by the way. Nice ter meet cha'.
Ed smiled and nodded. "Nice to meet you, Nick."
Nick stopped at a door and said, after turning to Ed and looking at him seriously, "Alright, I'm goin' to warn ya now. The faces in there are jus' as shocking as mine."
"What do you mean? More Drachmites?" Ed asked. Nick shook his head, and opened the door. And Edward's jaw dropped.
Sitting around the table in the middle of the room was an Ishvarlan man wearing a tan trench coat over black jeans and a sleeveless shirt, who looked incredibly bored, and a tall, beautiful Xingese woman wearing a green summer dress with a wet, green poncho over it. They both looked up when they walked it.
"Howdy, people from Earth, Mars and Ishvarla! How goes it!?" The Xingese grinned.
"Not too bad. Who's the walking gravestone?" She asked with a smirk. Edward, once again, threw a humorous fit, leaving Nick in stitches and the other two very confused.
"I'm sorry, what now? I couldn't understand you?" The Ishvarlan said. Ed blushed.
"I'm Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. Who are you two?"
"That's what you said? That's not what it sounded like." The Ishvarlan muttered. Then, "I'm Booker, the Healing Alchemist. I specialize in medical alchemy. This young lady," he motioned towards the Xingese lady. "Is Rin Yao, the first daughter of the Xingese Emperor. She's the Terra-Firma Alchemist." Rin stood and held out a hand for Ed to shake. She towered over him. He sighed resignedly, and shook her hand, then reached out and shook Booker's hand.
"Nice to meet you two. So… I guess we're all on the same squad?" Ed asked awkwardly.
"It would seem so," Booker said simply. "Though, all things considered, we'll all probably kill each other before we even get to Drachma." Rin snorted.
"You got that right." She said with a cheeky smirk.
"Pity. We're all such nice people." Nick said with a grin.
"Well then, everyone. I see you're all acquainted." Roy Mustang walked in with several packages and a big map. They all became serious. "You all required to wear these uniforms. And that includes you, Edward." He said, giving Edward a stern look. Everyone grinned, while Ed glared at the man. "Anyway, here's the plan…"
--
One year later…
Alphonse sat restlessly on a bench in a room with several military men, including Mustang. One was Sergeant General Valto, a short, stout, contemptuous man. The commander of Edward's squad.
"Unfortunately," he was saying. "the State Alchemists of Squad 366, 234, and 369 all were killed in the battle of Drachlain. State Alchemists Kloud Nyne, Aurthur Holmstrom, Laura Downs, Allen Hiete, Klara Flarite, Rini Chen, Shen Flor, Cole Winters, Nicholas Benchley, Booker Ishvan, and Edward Elric were all killed."
Roy Mustang was pale. He took a deep breath and said softly, "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely certain, General."
Alphonse sobbed. Roy closed his eyes for a second, inhaled, exhaled, and nodded.
"Thank you, Sergeant General Valto." He said softly. They saluted to one another, and Valto started to leave.
Suddenly, the door burst open. Everyone looked up in shock.
Two Drachmites stood in the doorway. One was a young girl, dark hair in a long, thick braid. The other a young man, carrying a… video camera.
Immediately, several soldiers catapulted on them. The girl, however, slipped from out of their grasp, and ran over to Mustang. She gasped for breath; obviously sick. Roy knelt down.
"Um, what is it little girl?" He asked, feeling her forehead with the back of his hand.
"R-roy Mustang-u." The girl said with difficulty.
"Yes, that's me," the man said, judging her temperature to be at least 102.
"Ed-ward Elric-u… t-to Roy Mustang-u." She said. Then she pointed to herself. "Ana." Then she pointed to the young man. "Nicolai."
Roy looked up at the boy. "Let him go," he ordered. The men reluctantly let him up. The young man walked over to Roy.
"Edward told me to give you this." He said with very little accent.
"H-he's alive?" Roy stammered.
"Last I saw 'im. But that was… about 4 months ago… So something might have changed… But I kinda doubt it."
Roy's shoulders slumped with relief. "Where is he? What's on the camera?"
"Benchley had it with him. He said it was to document the Drachmite war."
The entire room went quiet. Roy stood straight.
"Well then. Let's see what really happened.