THE DESERT

DISCLAIMER: Ed and Roy do not belong to me. FullMetal Alchemist belongs to numerous powers-that-be, including Hiromu Arakawa (whose reaction to this story would be interesting to see), Studio BONES, and FUNimation.
I write for fun. If anyopne oyut there ever got rich writing fanfic I\'d like ot meet them. STILL BROKE in Texas.
~realroy~

The Desert

A loud noise and the sensation of weightlessness jolted Edward awake. He was conscious in time to keep from landing badly on the shifting sands. He saw the remains of the jeep he had been riding in smoldering less than twenty feet away and surveyed the area quickly for his brother. He saw Alphonse getting to his feet about five yards away from him and the Colonel was near him doing likewise.

As he dashed over to join his brother, bullets whizzed past Edward’s head and one grazed his cheek. The sounds of many angry men closing in on their position made Edward hasten his pace. In the dim light of early dawn he could see a band of rifle-wielding rebels heading towards them. A few were on horseback but most of them were on foot. The Colonel had drawn his sidearm and was beginning to return fire when Edward joined him

When Mustang saw Edward he commanded, “Fullmetal, shake and bake! NOW!”

The two Alchemists sprang into action getting off their coordinated attack simultaneously. Edward’s concussive blast swept the sand from under the horse’s hooves sending man and beast tumbling while Mustang’s wave of fiery hell lit up the night with the intensity of a solar flare. The agonizing screams of men and the smell of burning flesh filled the desert air. Those rebels that managed to escape the Alchemist’s attack dared to take a few pot shots at them before fleeing in terror. Mustang was about to get off another blast when one of those random bullets ripped through his thigh dropping him to the ground.

“Son of a bitch!” Mustang cursed.

Edward let loose another attack that brought the desert itself to life. A wall of sand swept over the fleeing rebels like a wave drowning them instantly. The silence that followed Edward’s coup de grace was deafening. Alphonse approached his brother and the Colonel cautiously. Both Mustang and his brother became different men when they were in the throws of battle.

“Colonel, are you all right?” Alphonse dared to ask.

“One of those bastards shot me in the leg,” he said through gritted teeth. He noted the burned out Jeep and ordered, “Go see what you can salvage out of there. Maybe the radio survived enough to be reassembled.”

Alphonse nodded and went off to do as commanded. Edward knelt by Mustang and made an attempt to examine his wound. The Colonel grabbed him by the wrist saying, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

“I’m not a medic but basic first aid was a part of the training you got for me when I joined this chicken shit outfit,” Edward told him breaking free of his grip and resuming his examination. “You’re lucky,” he told him after a pause. “It missed the artery.”
“Just bind it up, Ed. There is a doctor at the frontier outpost. When we make it there I’ll get this taken care of.”

Edward looked around. “Just where is this outpost?”

Mustang also scanned the area and saw nothing but windswept dunes and desert in every direction. The road they were on led to the outpost. They had been en route there anyway after the radio call he had received during the night from the base’s commanding officer. They were under attack and needed the help of the State Alchemists to bail them out. So Mustang’s group had separated from the convoy and headed out across the desert towards that frontier base. Three Alchemists should be more than enough to handle a bunch of filthy rebels, the Colonel had surmised.

However, they had not planned on getting ambushed when they were halfway there. The Colonel pondered their next course of action while Edward used the cloth from his shot up pant’s leg to make a bandage. It wasn’t pretty but it would keep him from bleeding and protect his leg enough so he could walk on it if supported. The boy wasn’t a medic but it was obvious he had paid attention in his first aid class. The binding didn’t look half-bad and seemed like it would hold. Mustang slowly got up with some help from Edward and the two of them made their way over to the still smoldering Jeep.

The explosion had killed their driver and it didn’t look like anything they had with them survived. Mustang could tell by looking at the damage that a shoulder-mounted rocket had hit the Jeep, the same kind their own troops used to destroy convoy vehicles. It had struck the driver’s side, which killed the man behind the wheel instantly, and the force of the blast was what knocked the rest of them free. He knew they were lucky to be alive. Had that rocket hit the Jeep anywhere else chances are none of them would have made it.

Mustang sighed. They were miles away from the frontier base and he was not certain in which direction it laid. While he pondered their next course of action he checked to see how many rounds he had left in the clip of his 9mm. It still had a few shots left plus he had an extra clip tucked away so unless they were hit by another ambush they should be fine. He noticed Edward was searching the few bodies that had not been buried by the wave of sand. Alphonse was with him and Mustang had been around the brothers long enough to read the armored one’s body language pretty well.

Alphonse was worried. Maybe even a little scared.

Edward rummaged through the pockets and person of the dead rebels searching for clues about their place of origin and anything that could be used as a weapon. The rifles the dead rebels had were left where they were. Like every other dog of the military, Edward was taught how to shoot, clean and store the weapons of war. He could use a rifle but wasn’t a very good shot. He was much better with a pistol and was searching the dead for handguns, spare clips and knives. Maes Hughes, who was a knife expert, had given Edward a few lessons on how to use daggers to his advantage. Hughes was what Edward would call scary good with a knife. Now it seemed like he was going to get the chance to put that training to use.

Alphonse watched as his elder brother combed the bodies pocketing small daggers, 9mm clips and anything that looked useful. He found a full canteen of water and slung that over his shoulder. The only time Alphonse saw Edward’s expression look something other than deadly serious was when he found a small bag of grenades on one of the dead men. The elder Elric’s golden eyes gleamed with an eerie inner fire as he eyed his prize.

“What are you going to do with that?” Alphonse asked.

“Bring a world of hurt down on the next group of scumbags that tries to jump us,” Edward told him. “Come on Al, we’re done here.”

Edward and Alphonse made their way across the shifting sands to where the Colonel was standing. Mustang noted their arrival saying, “Find anything?”

“We have water,” Edward told him indicating the canteen. “And I think we can use this to find out where this band of murderers came from.”

He handed the Colonel a gold necklace that had a charm suspended from it. Mustang looked at the engraving. It was of the god Ishbal but it depicted the deity sitting on a throne like a king and clutching a spear. Mustang had seen that before. At the battle of Ishbal the seekers of an ancient Ishbali artifact known as the Spear of Destiny wore these amulets around their necks. The legend said the spear was given to the first priest of Ishbal who used its great power to defeat a barbarian army and establish their first city, which was named Ishbal in the god’s honor. The spear was kept in the temple but somehow over the centuries it was lost. The story held that only someone pure of heart could hold the spear. Anyone else daring to touch it would die in the fires of hell.

Mustang handed the necklace back to Edward saying, “If we can make a Scrying circle this should lead us to the rebel encampment. Last report I received suggested the rebel base was very close to the outpost. So if we find them we’ll also be pretty sure to find our own forces as well.”

“I hope it’s not too far. One canteen of water will barely be enough for the two of us for one day,” Edward pointed out.
“If it takes longer than that I know of a way to get more water,” the Colonel told him.

“The air here is too dry to suck out the moisture and condense it,” Edward stated. “And forget combining interstitial hydrogen and oxygen. There is plenty of oxygen, as your fire blast demonstrated, but I could see by the flame color you weren’t getting any hydrogen in the burn.”

Mustang stared at him for a long moment in amazement. He thought after four years of working with Edward that he would be used to the boy’s quick sharp analysis of a situation. But there were times when Edward would catch him off-guard and now was one of those times.

“Okay, so what do you suggest we do?” Mustang queried in a semi-sarcastic tone.

Edward glared at him. “First we figure out where we’re going. Then we’ll deal with the water situation.” He sighed heavily then added hotly, “Us being out here sucks enough. You don’t have to make it any worse!”

“I’m NOT making it worse!” Mustang shot back.

“BOTH of you are making it worse!” Alphonse interjected and the Colonel and Edward turned as one to face him. “Can’t you two just TRY and get along?”

Edward sighed. His brother was right. Arguing would get them nowhere. He paced off and found an area that was relatively flat and smooth. He put his hands together to complete his alchemic circle and then kneeled on the ground putting his hands onto the smooth sand. As the Colonel and his brother watched, the sand around Edward was transmuted to glass in the shape of a scrying circle. Edward was at the center of the Array and he placed the necklace down at his feet. Carefully he tiptoed out of the circle minding not to step on and shatter any of the symbols. He joined his brother and the Colonel by the edge of the array and took a look at his handiwork.

“Nice job,” Mustang commented as he gazed out at the crystalline structure.

“Never made a circle out of glass before,” Edward said. “I hope it works.”

All three Alchemists knelt by the circle and charged it up. Energy erupted from it in a hazy blue shimmer and from the necklace at the center emerged a golden glowing spinning whirlwind of power. Within the mini twister they all saw images appear. Caverns carved out of sandstone mountain that was filled with people who lived like termites in a mound. These desert people were a warlike bunch but their weapons were all of the hand-held variety, nothing more dangerous than a LAW rocket. They saw the face of the enemy and they had reason to be worried. What they laced in firepower they made up for in numbers. Mustang knew they had to get to the State encampment before these rebels made a major assault.

The image faded and the energy field died away. The Colonel looked over at Edward asking, “Did you get an idea of where the rebels are?”

“I saw what you saw,” Edward replied.

“If you wanted to know where the person who owned that necklace came from, you should have asked Ed to create a locator array,” Alphonse told the Colonel.

Edward shrugged. “He has a point.”

“Can you do that?” the Colonel asked.

“Not from memory,” Edward replied. He looked up at his brother hopefully and Alphonse shook his head. “Guess we’re S.O.L. on that.”

Mustang walked across the glass array shattering it under his boots and fetched the necklace. “The only mountains I know of around here lie to the west,” he said.

Edward and Alphonse got up. They walked across the array breaking it to the point it was nearly unrecognizable and joined up with the Colonel. The trio stared across the wide expanse of sand dunes and tried not to think about the blazing hot sun beating down on them. Edward glanced back at the bodies of the rebels and got an idea. He left Al and the Colonel and dashed across the sand to closest rebel and began stripping the body of its loose fitting desert clothing. The Colonel saw what Edward was doing and went over to give him a hand. Pretty soon both Edward and Mustang were outfitted like a pair of desert nomads, Edward’s distinctive blond hair well hidden under a dark cloth turban.

There was very little they could do to hide Alphonse’s armored body. Even with Edward modifying some of the garments to be large enough to cover him, Al’s height alone was going to make him stand out. There wasn’t much they could do with how big the armor was but they were able to disguise him enough so that from a distance he just looked like a huge guy. Once the Colonel was sufficiently satisfied their identities were concealed, the trio headed out west across the desert…

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Note from author Reinhart:
SOL = Shit Outta Luck
I figured military acronyms like this and FUBAR, SNAFU, etc. par for the course in Amestris! And having Ed say it makes sense since in our RPG he’s the first one to make the bluntly put observation!!
THANKS FOR READING – please let me know what you think!
Will be adding more to this AFTER AGGIECON (after APril 25th when I get back home from Texas A&M University!)
Any AGGIES on this List please look for ROY MUSTANG in the MSC this weekend!
GIG \'EM AGGIES!