Edward hated to assign missions to the alchemists under his command. It wasn't that he didn't believe in his soldiers, or trust them to do the duties assigned to them - he just wanted to be out in the field himself. To hand off the assignments and watch them all depart, while he was attached to a desk like it was a literal ball-and-chain irritated the hell out of him.
When he managed a promotion to senior Colonel six months ago it meant an end to any field work he'd managed to squeeze in. His duties increased three-fold and, fortunately, along with the promotion came an increase in staff to handle the duties. It was a good sign, it did mean that he was doing something right, and despite several Major-General's complete distaste for him he was winning points among a lot of the junior officers.
It also helped that the current Fuhrer thought he was amusing and not really a threat. Mathias Dalton was a Brigadier General when Edward was still under Roy Mustang's command and always had a slightly bemused fascination with Edward's apparent genius. Edward wasn't gunning for Dalton's life, the man wasn't a politician any more than Edward was - he wasn't interested in changing up the status quo and the military still had the same problems it did when Edward was younger. It needed to be separated from the politics of the country - and once Edward was in the driver's seat that would be his main objective.
But he was still years away from his goal - a good decade if he was lucky. Trying to piece together the framework that Mustang had laid had taken almost three years, the man was far too good at the politics of it all. Tweaking those plans to fit Edward's agenda took time as well - Edward was not Roy Mustang and he really wasn't trying to be. He would never be a proper politician. Hell, the only reason he was good at the military was because that was what he had grown up with, and the majority of that settled in when he came back voluntarily after restoring Al.
Sometimes, he would sit at his desk and think of how things would be different if Roy was still with them. How much closer he'd be toward the Fuhrership. How happy Edward would be still running missions for him and being his closest asset - after Lieutenant (now Captain, very soon for a promotion further) Hawkeye. Then reality would set in. If Roy was still alive, Edward might not be running the State Alchemist exams. He would only know Rian Martin as a headline, an attempt on the life of the Fuhrer and the Major-Generals who sat in on the State Alchemist exams.
Rian, who didn't quite fill that hole in his heart but was trying his hardest, spackle in hand. Rian, who was a far more clever alchemist than Edward often remembered, as his alchemy was a thousand times more subtle than Edward's own. He was Roy's diametric opposite in that regard, fire being by nature flashy and obvious. Air alchemy, on the other hand, could be completely silent and even more lethal besides. Sometimes, when Edward thought about it, he realized exactly how deadly Rian could be if he wanted to, and what sort of weapon he would have become if he had fallen into the wrong hands when he was his most impressionable.
Yet he had come willingly with Edward. Learned from Edward what little Edward had to teach him - often it seemed more like Rian taught him. Or maybe it was more that he reminded him of the things that Roy once tried to teach him. He had come to Edward's command, into the unit. He had made friends with the junior officers, teased Havoc almost as much as Edward did, was respectful to Hawkeye, made himself a home there. Strangely enough, he did the same with Edward's bed. He wormed himself right into Edward's home and quickly into bed with him and suddenly Edward couldn't imagine life without him.
So few people knew. They were careful, they had to be. Rian was no longer under age, but he had been when he started in Edward's command. He was Rian's superior officer. It was fraternization of the worst kind, superior and subordinate. Those in his original command knew. Alphonse, of course, and his family. And Anthony, Rian's older brother - Edward really had no idea if Rian's family knew about their relationship, he'd never had chance to meet them (frankly, the prospect terrified him in a way he never thought about).
Thus, Edward had to dole out these assignments to the State Alchemists under his command - usually investigating some misuse of alchemy or running important documents across the country, very occasionally for espionage missions when they worked quietly with the Intelligence department. Rian currently had been on a tear about visiting an elderly alchemist who specialized in steam and water alchemy, so when a simple mission came up that would send someone to the same town Edward put it aside for Rian. Rian had been estatic about the mission - to the point where he hadn't been back for almost three weeks.
They all had important work to do and Edward tried not to let Rian's absence get to him. They didn't live together - not really, Rian still maintained a small dorm room in the military barracks and stayed there frequently - even so Edward felt the loss when he woke up in the morning the most. Without Rian around he threw himself into his work as a distraction; which while Hawkeye appreciated the increase in his productivity it also would set an unrealistic standard for the times when Edward had a Rian around to keep him occupied.
It was late in the afternoon when Hawkeye entered his office. Edward looked up when she closed the door behind her - he had been scribbling out several arrays that had to do with hot air he wanted to show off to Rian when he returned - because it was unusual for Hawkeye to close the door unless it was something she didn't want the rest of the office to hear. "Something the matter, Captain?"
Riza Hawkeye stopped before Edward's desk. There was a tightness around her eyes that Edward recognized, even if her face was carefully neutral. "Captain?"
She set the file in her arm on his desk. "An Ishbalian extremist group attacked a train in the East," she said quietly. "There are three people dead and seven hostages."
Instantly, Edward's world shifted around him. "Rian is on that train." It was matter-of-fact, not a question. She wouldn't have come to him personally with this news before a meeting was called by Intelligence otherwise. His stomach had hardened into a tiny, cold ball. He couldn't lose Rian like this. "Is he-?"
Hawkeye exhaled. "I don't know, sir. All we know is that this particular extremist group cuts the feet off of their victims, and we've found three sets so far."
Edward's stomach turned at the thought. In the years since the Fuhrer King Bradley had been removed from office the relations with the Ishbalian people had gone through the roof. Peace treaties had been signed, the fear most citizens had of the dark skinned, light-haired people was slowly fading. But the extremist groups who believed anyone who used alchemy was an affront to Ishbala still made newspapers with their acts of terrorism. They hated alchemists. They liked to make examples of alchemists.
He put his right hand around his coffee cup. "Do we have anything at all?"
"No, sir." Hawkeye's expression softened. "Ed, I'm sorry," she said quietly.
Edward felt the coffee cup shift under the pressure of his automail hand around it. He had to compose himself because when the briefing happened, if anyone saw the emotion about his missing alchemist as anything more than worry ...
... he couldn't do this again. Edward swallowed, ignored the cracking of the coffee cup. "I need information," he said. "You said seven hostages. How did we get that number?"
"The terrorists uncoupled the engine and the first few carriages," Hawkeye said. "They're interviewing the remaining passengers in Boyden. We'll know something soon, I'm sure."
Edward's eyes were hard, his face somehow a cold mask. "I'm going to Boyden."
"No," Hawkeye said firmly. "You are not. There will be meetings about this, the team assigned to handling the Ishbalian extremists will be called in-" Edward picked up the phone that sat on his desk and ignored Hawkeye.
"Havoc," he said as the line connected outside the office. "I need tickets, the next train leaving for the East-" He looked at the phone as the line hung up abruptly, then looked up to see Hawkeye pressing down the handle where the handset was cradled.
"You are not," she said coldly, "leaving this base, Edward Elric. You have a job to do and I am not going to allow you to run off on a whim."
"It's not a whim," Edward said, his voice matching Hawkeye's level of coldness. "And if it was Roy who was in danger you would drop everything-"
The slap surprised him. Edward's hand flew up to his face and he stared at her, stunned. Hawkeye's face was still completely composed. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Captain," he said finally. "That was out of line."
"We all care about Rian very much, Ed," Hawkeye said. "But right now running off to Boyden isn't going to do any good. Focus on what you can do from here, and we will support you one hundred and ten percent."
Edward nodded numbly, his hand still on his stinging cheek.
"Intelligence will have a meeting in less than an hour," she told him briskly. "I would recommend that you compose yourself before then. Hopefully," she paused, caught her voice. "They'll have the identities of the dead by then." The look she gave Edward didn't require a translation. Prepare for the worst.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The door clicked open and shut from far away, and once Edward knew that Hawkeye had closed the door he pressed his automail hand over his eyes and focused on breathing. She was right, she was always right, and it was to his benefit that she was.
Prepare for the worst.
It was as if Edward had swallowed an icicle. There was no way he'd get to Boyden in time to be any use. He had a job to do here.