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Board of Squares
Chapter Nine
Den of Lions

- mirage–

Hawkeye wanted to leave the base and go to a restaurant. Take a private table, sit down, and have the time and atmosphere to talk, and look at what they needed for the case. She said a good warm meal would do Ed good, but Roy denied this request. Said he would not release Ed to the wild while in custody, and Ed latched to this phrase with distaste.

"You make it sound like I might go scampering off into the woods and you won't be able to find me."

Roy did not confess that was exactly what it felt like.

Together they went upstairs to the closed fourth floor cafeteria, and reopened it. Inside the large massive hall of tables gave a sense of privacy, and for the most part Hawkeye seemed pleased. Entered the employee area, and industrial pantries, and Alphonse followed, excited with curiosity.

"It's amazing how different it looks empty!" Alphonse called to Ed, trotting totting after her like Black Hayate. "Remember the first time we ate at Command, Nii-san!" That was years ago. "What do you feel like eating!" Alphonse's cheerful voice was echoing through the room

Ed walked to the first table and sunk onto the provided bench. Crossing his arms on the table he leaned into them, and answered, "Surprise me!" The tone was more than sour, and Roy approached and took the parallel seat. He was not optimistic a decent meal was coming. The first shift menu was limited even with their professional staff, and unmanned looked barren.

"How many pages is Ms. Sanders's report?" Roy asked. Ed lifted his shoulders, held them for a moment, and then dropped them dramatically. "You didn't check?" Ed was silent. "Did you read it?" Ed groaned into his arms. "You didn't read it yet?"

"No," Ed muffled. Roy kept his chuckle to himself. It was no wonder Hawkeye shot her way into the cell. She had a dangerous lack of patience for gutless deportment.

"Is there anything the report may cover want kept private from us?" Roy was trying to be considerate.

Ed uprooted his face, and turned his gaze to normally off limits food preparation area. At a stainless steel counter Hawkeye was visible preparing something with Alphonse orbiting her in a platinum forest of oversized industrial culinary equipment.

"All things considered," Ed said miserably, "what privacy do I really have anymore."

"It could be worse." Roy offered a playful smile, and Ed glanced over, brow creased with skepticism. "Can always be worse." This shouldn't have been comforting, but it was. "I'd also prefer not to expend any of my time reading which mailroom stewardess you'd like to bang, or how often you're home pitifully beating off, if I can."

It was a joke; of the driest humor, and expression unchanged Ed sat staring, before he broke out laughing and Roy followed. They enjoyed it together, and Ed buried his face back in his arms, enjoyed the respite, and then sat up quickly, cracking his neck.

Hawkeye returned with white bread turkey sandwiches, and an unimpressed, "This is it," and no one complained. They passed out a stack of melamine plates, set a wad of napkins in the middle, and Ed appreciated the simplicity.

"Ed, before we start reading this can you tell us what style your conversation was in?" Hawkeye asked, opening Ed's folder with Ed flying through his sandwich. Alphonse sat patiently before a cup of water, and looked repelled to even touch the untested military bread and processed meat.

"It was casual like," Ed said, chewing. "She just asked me questions, and I answered them."

Hawkeye slid the report from Ed's folder, and glanced up looking solemn. "Every question in this is something you are comfortable with us reading, yes?"

Ed wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, and affirmed with a brief nod and muttered, "It's tolerable." Pointed at the report. "We only discussed professional stuff. All the important things, like my favorite color, favorite food, and how I pronounce the word tomato she forgot to ask."

Hawkeye was caught off guard with the sudden joke, and sneezed her way into a brighter expression and tiny smile. Roy caught her discrete look and knew she attributed Ed's lift in mood to him, but said nothing. Oh, the power of sex jokes.

"Here." Hawkeye extended Ed his report, and he took it slowly, comedy falling. "It's yours, Ed." She was being kind, but Ed's speed of chewing was coming to a crawl, and with a look of discomfort building he thrust the report to Alphonse and demanded, "You do it."

Alphonse was surprised, and Ed argued the expression with a defensive, "I can't be the one to read it. You do it."

Alphonse accepted the packet asking a sarcastic, "Cause it's my fault?" and flipped it open. Quickly he began reading without them, and explained with a quick, "Just a moment, and I'll summarize."

Roy wasn't certain he was comfortable with this. "Alphonse, a summary is not going to suffice. We can expect any committee to focus on select clauses and even phrases to anchor a case."

Alphonse acknowledged this with a quick nod, but didn't stop reading, and Roy shared a glance with Ed. This is not going to work, the glance said.

"Okay, front page," Alphonse said, flipping inward to the second, "was her introducing herself, citing the evaluation request as, means to determine mental health for one, Edward Elric, as it relates to active discussion over circumstances relevant to younger Sibling, Alphonse Elric." Roy was impressed with Alphonse's ability to recite material so accurately and shared a second glance with Ed. This might work, the glance amended. "She's a good writer," Alphonse said, sounding impressed and reading on. "She doesn't talk about the evaluation at all, just gives her findings, and she lists them in bullets under two headings. The first is, Psychological Assessment of Personality Factors and Behaviors, and the second is, Emotional Factors. One second." Alphonse went silent, gaze dropping down the page as he read at a fantastic rate, and Hawkeye turned a slow gaze to Roy that said, see the change?

This was the boy from the armor. The reflective and analytical boy they'd known in spirit. Not the scatter brained squirrely child in the flesh.

With his teeth Ed pulled a piece of turkey from his sandwich, and with it hanging from his mouth, said, "Don't get nitty-gritty, Al. Just spit it out."

Alphonse held up a hand for silence, and continued reading. Devoured several pages, effortlessly, and said, "Okay." Gathered his bearings. "Under Personality and Behaviors, Nii-san, she says you're expressing clinging tendencies and excessive worry over, what she refers to as Sibling. She attributes this to the fact Sibling is the last member of your family, and you are Sibling's sole care giver. She also says you're expressing a strong desire to act upon right, or socially moral, care giving, which she attributes to fostered and bred military teachings being instilled on you at a young age." Ed grunted skeptically. "Then lastly she says you're demonstrating military philosophy to take responsibility, and this appears exaggerated due to the high level of anxiety suggestion of injury to Sibling causes you." Staring into the packet Alphonse was impressed and lifted his eyebrows. "You actually sound like a good soldier, put like that."

Ed bat this aside, with a kind, "Shut up."

Roy supported this. "You do, Ed."

"Whatever. I don't want to hear shit about what the military's teaching me to do. They haven't infiltrated my head to any level that deep."

Roy lifted the second half of his sandwich, and teased a dry, "I'm sure she saved the incriminating stuff for last."

Ed was insulted. "That's not funny."

Roy laughed at his own joke, and Alphonse moved on. Did his best to disclose a balanced and transparent summary of the facts while observing a sensitive consideration for Ed as both the subject and receiver.

The second half of the report listed medical terminology, but Alphonse read it easily. Was a decent public speaker, and Roy ignored Hawkeye's look when he felt it punctuating the demonstration. When it was unmistakable that Alphonse was acting like, sounded like, and thinking like, his armored self, he could tell she was satisfied with herself. Excited and almost proud, and he didn't know how to refute the evidence. Didn't know how to say, it looked like you might be right, when seemed so impossible she could be right.

Sanders had written them a vantage point. Without becoming abusively detailed, she advised that Ed's current charges appeared to be bringing him to a toxic state. Causing him to question his importance and worth. That without correction to the groundless charges, momentum capable of penetrating Edward's professional and social perceptions, which were valuable to the military, would develop. With very little medical training it was easy to see Ed was harboring a swell of mildly unhealthy traits, and to these, exaggerated tendencies and inconsistently extreme emotional expression, Sanders touched only briefly. She referenced the broken home, death of the mother, abandonment of the father, and politely explained Ed's distorted boundaries, fear of abandonment, and extreme fear over separation from Alphonse, in a passive casual way, as if to suggest, doesn't everyone have these problems?

Alphonse imitated, reading and explaining with a nonjudgmental tone, and every effort to be courteous, but Ed wasn't an idiot. As he listened he lowered his sandwich and averted his gaze. Gradually his expression slid into a pout Roy recognized, and Roy found the healthy response comforting.

This was Edward's common response to topic accuracy in lieu of nonexistence. The tried and true, I-Don't-Want-To-Hear-It, sulk.

Hawkeye took note, with ongoing concern their best intentions were intimately invading in Ed's private affairs, but Ed's tight expression exposed only tolerant embarrassment. Dictated medical review you were clinging to your half-alive younger brother because everyone else was dead was uncomfortable, but it was also obvious. The Elrics hadn't arrived in office yesterday, and had achieved what they had over the years because of the office.

When Ed lost his appetite listening, and dropped his sandwich to his plate, Hawkeye imagined this was the same awkwardness Ed felt when he was thirteen and called out on his lack of showering. And this was important, because it made things familiar. Made it routine. A temporary social accusation that would pass. As the veil to a hidden agenda, it was also the veil to a helpful one. The cryptic adult world, where they were steps ahead of you, but wanted to help you.

Without humiliation, Ed set his eyes on his plate, and listened actively. He feared each sentence would be the one ink mark he couldn't erase. The suggestion he didn't know what he was doing: with his life, with his own body, and with Alphonse. That he was a nutcase. That he was insane to try human transmutation, and had since that day, carrying on with the same two metal blemishes, become no better at having a younger brother.

What could he say had really improved? What now could he offer Alphonse that he then could not? A stable home and healthy life, certainly wasn't it. He had pulled Alphonse into the military with him. People had been shooting at them for years. They had been knee deep in political scandals, bureaucratic bloodbaths, and things as scarring for growing kids as the good-old-fashion hostage situation. To start laundry listing their activity would be suicide, and all it would take was one interested party. One prying eye, saying: Hey, this questionable situation sounds just a bit more questionable than I'm comfortable with. Just what have these two boys been up to?

There was a wealth of maltreatment and exploitation from almost every angle. Any agency, any third party could take their pick. What upset you? The crumbling home life, constant travel, unstable role models, desire for additional taboo, lack of supervision enabling self-inflicted life threatening danger? They were a bull's-eye with nothing but a center target. You couldn't miss. Whether what they had been up to was misconstrued as inaccurately as something sexual, or discovered as accurately as illegal transmutation and nearly constant threat, it all depended on whether or not you wanted to look.

Ed was sure, after thinking about it for days, and after feeling that first icy grip of panic in the clinic lobby on the phone with Mustang, that his life couldn't afford any Peeping Toms.

Carol Sanders sympathized with this in an unspoken but unambiguous display of her data. The conclusion little less than the closing statement for a defense case. She defined Ed with the medical diagnosis of harmless, with no forecast of concern. She stated twice, two different ways, that trauma responses were a normal reflex, and not a sign of mental instability. That intense motivation to obsess over Alphonse was a healthy expression of devotion, and Roy was certain he loved the woman.

Enjoyed her for being clever, and would have hired her as a lawyer. Her facts were loud, but subtle. Disguised as mundane review. As if everyone agreed Ed was a common case, and oh, wasn't she the one who just happened to make the boring report to prove it. What's all this hog-wash about incestuous what? Heavens to Betsy, that's just silly.

Alphonse reached the end, reading almost monotone, before stopping with a blossomed frown of shock when Carol referenced Ed's love in a way that suggested it was Ed's right to love people as he saw fit, and not a removal of Alphonse's rights to be on the receiving end of such inventive expression.

Then they were silent.

With the last few sentences missing, and still so much to think about.

"Ed," Hawkeye broke the long silence, looking happy. "This will be great for your case." Ed's expression was washed. Mentally and emotionally drained in a way a cold turkey sandwich just couldn't fill. "What Carol is saying, is that your intent to keep Alphonse safe, is so strong, you would recognize yourself as an enemy, and intervene to stop yourself." This was in the report, and it was a stroke of creative genius. Whether or not it was true, Roy found that debatable. He had seen Ed get a little crazy over the years, and felt relatively certain if Ed was up to his neck in an idea, his swinging fists and kicking feet would not see their way out.

Ed looked cautiously reassured with Hawkeye's kind words. He glanced up from his plate for only a second and gave a quick breath of embarrassed relief. Leaned his head into his palm and took to scrubbing his left eye and temple.

Roy took things farther. "She just wrote your appeal."

Alphonse leapt with hope. It was hard to read a report and truly understand how a panel of seasoned military personnel would understand it, but it the knowledge gap was much shorter for Roy and Hawkeye. They had developed a survival instinct that required proper calculation for self-preservation.

Ed moved to speak, hesitated, and then shrugged. "I mean, I'm glad it's not," and what was the word for it, "worse, but…" but was it enough?

"Ed, she's campaigning your certainly as stable as we need you, and debunking any suggestion of abuse by implying even your subconscious would not allow it," Roy explained. "Any committee will be hard pressed to combat that, considering your subconscious is probably a cluster." Ed gave Roy a cold look, but Roy was content. "Everything else she explained away with references to the broken home." The second half of Ed's sandwich was abandoned and Ed's hand hovered above his dish, fingers flexed as if sticky. "You've got a solid core with this, what do you think?"

Ed sputtered a muddled sound, and averted his gaze back into the room. He had too many thoughts to pack into a response, but they waited, patiently.

"And here I was…" Ed said softly, staring out at the tables, tone still incredibly vulnerable. "…wishing she'd be hideously fat."

Roy felt confident Ed's appeal submission conveyed serious dedication, and admirably assembled pertinent reference material in a respectful manner. The ball was not in Ed's court, but his work was reputable, and Roy had guaranteed their petition reflected this. It gave him wobbling confidence, and reminded him of his own state alchemist exam, where he waited in a cold nervous sweat certain what he handed in was his best, while worrying his best wasn't good enough.

Ed had put himself together for his hearing, and Roy was satisfied. Breda had released Ed from his cell that morning with directions to take care of himself, and Ed had. He was clean, his clothing alchemically scrubbed and pressed, and he looked contented in his traditional outfit, but commanding in detail. Ed was good at detail, and he had pieced himself together imitating their approach to his appeal. Anything silver was shining, anything leather was polished, and Roy was proud.

The conference room of the legal committee was fashioned after Central's court rooms for both familiarity and appropriate function. The committee assumed the head of the room at a long panel style table of seven men: two Generals, two Brigadiers, and three Colonels. Without arbitrary need of a jury, the remainder of the room spanned outward. Split into what was traditionally the defense and prosecution. Informally two appeals occupied the room at a time, dividing themselves between the defendant or plaintiff side.

Today, at zero nine hundred, the plaintiff side was Edward's case, and the defendants' side had a small collection of binders carried in by a single soldier, but no attendance. The appeal scheduled for ten hundred found no reason to start a grueling meeting early, and this sentiment was shared by the general military populous, who had access to witness appeals as desired, but seldom did so. The public gallery of chairs in the back of the room were empty with the exception of Falman, Hawkeye, and Alphonse.

At zero eight fifty-nine, Ed was directed to assume the plaintiff table, and Roy accompanied him as the Direct Report. Then the committee was flipping through Ed's documentation. All seven men impressively senior with distinguished careers, and confident inscrutable faces. They carried on with a fashion of disinterest, certain Ed's report would yield familiarity, while mildly curious for current events.

"Edward Elric, this is a request to have your charges erased?" the committee asked, members still reading and muttering quietly to one another. The speaker was General Keshow, a well distinguished articulate man with an idiolect that birthed nothing without careful consideration and analysis. His widespread respect and intellect was so much an asset to the board he was the unspoken poster child. The face of the entire panel.

Ed was seated respectfully in his chair. Weight evenly distributed, both feet flat, and his hands linked professionally before him, but in every way he looked poised to run a race as soon as he heard gunfire. With the committee's question Ed leaned forward, and said, "Yes, my request is to have the charges ceased and erased."

General Keshow gave a slow thoughtful nod with eyebrows raised apathetically. The committee continued to shuffle through each document. Speaking softly to one another, sharing thoughts, and referencing excerpts for review.

Ed was tense, and Roy was deliberately trying to keep a very casual appearance. "Don't let them see you nervous," Roy cautioned, speaking softly.

Ed closed his eyes and took a breath. His muscles felt tight with anxiety, and he was locking them together as if buckling down for a storm. His knee wanted to bounce, his fingers wanted to drum, his flesh ankle felt overwhelmingly restless and was begging to tap, but he forced himself to remain still. The most readable signal about him, was his itch to move to the defensive, and he was fighting it.

"Major Elric," General Keshow said, having obtained a few whispers from the panel. "The committee is asking you for your opinion on the charges."

Ed's answer was immediate, "They're false," and though he didn't move, something about his words seemed to snap forward and crack. The f sound was poignant, as if with profanity.

"Are you a homosexual, Major Elric?" General Keshow asked, slow, and with an uncaring disinterest. "You're not required to answer. It is my responsibility to make you aware of that fact." At the tip of General Keshow's nose perched an incredibly thin pair of disarming spectacles, and they lay doormat to the light as the man spoke down to the report. "It is your right to observe a pass with this question, we're extending you that courtesy as there are peers attending your entreaty." The man lifted a paper, paused, and then replaced it. "However, your answer will not sway the committee's decision. The committee is simply posing a question to better understand what may be other mitigating circumstances."

Ed's answer was just as quick. His tone commanding, entitled, and missing nothing as he closed the topic with a quick, "I am not, sir" and returned it to his desired focus. "I am offended by the suggestion in the charges, and I am requesting the committee provide support in the form of correction, sir."

Roy was proud of Ed's verbiage. He had seated himself at a slight angle, with his right arm forward on the desk and his left comfortably at his side. Perfectly still he lifted his pointer finger and gave the table a single deliberate tap, and Ed noticed. The effect was a mental high five, and Ed gave his lips a quick optimistic lick, but kept his eyes trained on the committee.

"Who is the female doctor?" Major General Kohle asked the committee members. He leaned inward flipping through his packet. "Where are her credentials?"

"Who is this, Ms. Carol Sanders?" General Keshow asked, lifting his gaze and setting them on Roy. "Colonel Mustang, that question is for you."

"Ms. Sanders is a psychologist seasoned with military experience. She's completed contract assignments for us before, and came as a referral. On short notice, she was kind enough to expedite an appointment, General."

"She completed the evaluation yesterday?" General Keshow was leafing through the referral letters with the enthusiasm of the strongly employed grazing the classified. His middle finger tossed them into a graceful arch via the lower right hand corner, until he reached the Xing parchment, and then he raised his eyes curiously. "Major Elric?"

"Yes, sir."

"How long was your evaluation?"

"Three hours, sir."

"What did you think?" Returning to the Xingese scroll, Keshow turned it carefully. Ed weaved his weight from either side, hesitating with the question's ambiguity, and the General looked up. "With the evaluation?" General Keshow clarified. "What did you think?"

Ed's already tight brow grew tighter with disagreement, but he kicked his shoulders back with confidence, and said, "I didn't like it, sir."

Ed's honesty was met with a low collective chuckle. It lifted something in the room, and Ed took a deep breath when the air suddenly felt easier to breathe.

Roy gave his finger another tap.

The committee advised they were going to take a few minutes in council, and retreated to talk only amongst themselves. They were skilled dictators, and revealed nothing when pointing toward documents, tossing their fingers in conversation, giving small shakes of the head, or nods, so that nothing was overly encouraging or disheartening. The most that could be gathered was that opinions existed.

Respectfully, Roy kept silent, and maintained composure. Ed imitated easily, until General Keshow leaned forward and planted his elbows on the desk, ready to begin. The Brigadier on Keshow's right was continuing a long strand of whispers into his ear, and Ed gave a deep unsteady breath, bracing himself for the next round.

"Major Elric," General Keshow said, carefully adjusting the spectacles on his nose. "I think I am going to start by saying this to you…the committee does have some questions, and the point I want to make is not to become discouraged. We have what could be, what might be considered, a concern for your brother's safety, and we think that is a concern you would stand in support of." Ed nodded quickly. "So we feel strengthening your supportive evidence further is necessary in preparation for unforeseen, but unwanted, litigation." Several of the committee members were mumbling agreement. "We want to make sure all of us, yourself included, feel confident with the evidence you have to substantiate the committee's decision, and we want your involvement with that decision." The General paused, considering his own speech, before looking out to Alphonse and Hawkeye. "Is your brother in the room, Major Elric?"

"Yes, sir."

General Keshow gave a soft nod, and muttered a kind, "Okay, son," before sitting back with comfortable resolve. "At this time we're not going to discuss any matters which have a strong relation to your brother out of respect, and we are going to say this," General Keshow carefully removed his spectacles and set them on the paper covered desk, "we're going to recommend another psychological evaluation of yourself, to have the support of a second professional within your case, and…we feel that is important, and that you would agree." The General paused, and although Roy could feel Ed absolutely did not agree Ed forced an obedient nod just the same. "That's good," the General said offering a candid smile. "And we appreciate that, we do feel cooperation here is important." The General lifted his hand and gestured to the report in a quick up and down motion. "All this," the man said, "with all this we would also request that a psychological evaluation and medical physical be given to your brother by the fine medical team we have here at Central Command, and that request is something we would make subject to his approval of course." The General gave pause, delightfully gracious in his manner of allowing Ed time to consider and respond to the hidden meaning lacing the conversation. The requirements and demands painted kindly as requests and opinions for no other reason than to be considerate.

Ed stiffened with this ultimatum, before slowly turning around in his chair and looking to Alphonse. Alphonse was listening intently where he sat at Hawkeye's side. Wearing what looked to be baggy casual clothing beneath a coat, Alphonse immediately nodded, and Ed turned back around and answered.

"He agrees, sir."

"Thank you," General Keshow said, lifting his gaze to Alphonse and giving a nod. "And thank you, young man. That is appreciated." From the far end of the table the Major General Kohle lifted Ling's scroll up to the light and Roy was certain he could see the man mouthing, "for cock-fucking-sake."

General Keshow picked up his glasses and folded them with deliberate care. The man was quite blatantly chewing over a thought. Pondering it with ease, but endowing a silence to extend respite to what was otherwise an interrogation.

The gesture was the only thing Ed received. The silence sent his nerves spiking and Roy could see it. Ed was hardening himself for what might be the stake of the committee's argument. Hunching forward a fraction lower in his chair, his mouth shrunk into a thin line of restraint. With the stress his blinking was coming like a nervous twitch, and his mind was spiraling topics in and out at a rate that was becoming a barreling speed, until Roy intervened.

Roy took action, and politely cleared his throat. In the silent room it had the impact of a shout. Hit Ed's ears like a detonating bomb, and Ed's pupils darted to Roy, and they were able to share a fast equivocal glance. Ed was drifting into his own world of concern, but their locked gaze yanked him back, planted him firmly in his chair, and relaxed Ed's shoulders what little they had additionally tensed.

"Where are you living right now, Major Elric?" General Keshow asked, as if making conversation.

"The…military barracks, sir."

Keshow gave a bright reminiscent smile, as if recollecting his own youth in the same dorms before asking, "Do you like it?" The man's voice took on a compassionate interest, like that of a grandfather.

Ed gave a shrug. "It's okay, sir," Ed said. "Can't complain I guess."

"How long have you lived in our dorms?"

Ed gave a quick breath. "A couple years," Ed added them mentally, "six years, sir."

General Keshow nodded. "Are you opposed to moving?" The gentle tone began to fade, giving way to strategic thinking, and the voice of a commander.

Ed gave his head a small absent shake. "Sir?" Ed said, sounding uncertain. "I guess not, sir?"

The committee has taken a look at your residence Major Elric and we are going to assign you a new dorm." Keshow folded his hands over Ed's report with satisfaction. "One that's a bit bigger." Ed began nodding with a poorly hidden look of confusion. "One with two bedrooms." Ed froze. "We think that might be helpful for you, and it just so happened there were a few available." This was an outrageous lie, as two bedrooms meant more square footage, and the waiting list was long.

Ed was speechless, and Roy cleared his throat, and discretely whispered, "Say, thank you sir."

"Thank you, sir," Ed repeated, briefly bowing his head in gratitude.

"It's no trouble at all," Keshow said, lifting a hand, and leaning back in his chair as if uncomfortably humbled with the appreciation. "You can have your evaluation today, and if your brother's schedule is open, he can as well. The committee will support your appeal, upon full cooperation from yourself, receipt of requested documents, and appropriate report and substance within such. You understand, we need firm confidence in your character and judgment, as well as your loyalty, Major, you can agree to us evaluating that, can't you?"

"Yes, sir." Ed answered without a second thought. "Absolutely, sir."

"Good, a small test of performance and judgment than," General Kesow said, leaning to the Colonel on his right when the man offered a small muffled comment. Ed looked at the man with immediate accusation: Shut up! Don't wreck things when they're going well!, but the remark only made Keshow chuckle, and after a short laugh, he returned to his forward posture and continued. "Once your evaluation is completed, we will grant you release from custody on what we can consider probation." Ed was thrilled, and his brow dropped its crippling stress and went smooth. "Once all requested documents are completed and obtained, we will render a final verdict."

"Do I come back for that?" Ed asked, eagerly. Roy glanced at Ed. He could have answered that question, but the committee seemed not to mind. The General considered himself a good judge of character and did not seem overly concerned with Ed, or the almost starved expression Ed had trained on the man.

"No son, there is no reason to come back," Keshow said happily. "We will release official documentation of your approval or denial to yourself and Colonel Mustang. In your case if your appeal is denied, and I say this not to worry you, only to offer some advice, my suggestion would be to contact legal representation immediately to best pursue other outlets."

"I will, sir." Ed agreed, looking ready to climb over the table and hug the man.

"With case approval, the committee will manage contacting any related third parties independently to clear this up." Ed breathed a fast sigh of relief and broke a smile. "How does that sit with you?" Ed's response was obvious, and the General wore a pleased grin.

"That's great, sir." Ed said happily. "Just awesome, thank you, sir."

Keshow waived one of the conference room's two posted soldiers forward and politely directed them to Ed. "Will you escort him, please?" the General asked. Major General Kohle handed the soldier a packet of papers and the man received them before approaching Ed.

Ed stood and gave Roy a quick celebrating glance before leaving with his escort. Keshow read the time, and announced the closure of Ed's hearing.

Roy stood to leave, and stopped when General Keshow called a soft, "Colonel Mustang?" Keshow slid his glasses back on and looked up with a curiously pleased expression. "What are your thoughts on all this?" Roy was silent. Above Keshow's pleasant smirk, the man's spectacles were glinting softly in the light. "Fullmetal has been in your charge for years." Keshow tipped his head forward without breaking his gaze. "How did he work himself into this mess?"

Roy fought the smile that rose within him. Confidently he said, "Fullmetal's devotion to the military continues to prove itself as littered with eccentricity as it does loyalty and victory."

Keshow began a soft approving mirth, but Roy remained stoic. He didn't feel the need to elaborate. Proleptically the committee's research was already complete, the new dorm already secured, the verdict, all but decided.

"Loyalty and victory," Keshow repeated thoughtfully. The man's eyes were cunning, and Roy could see this phrasing mulling about in his head. "Those are strong words coming from a decorated Colonel." And they were.

Roy kept silent, and General Keshow's smile widened a fraction of an inch. "I am sure we can use that Colonel, very good," General Keshow said. "Very good."

Hello dear readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I apologize for my silence to all those reaching out, my vacation drained the life out of me! Four days back, still adjusting from jet lag I caught this awful head cold and was knocked flat. So…I've been recovering, and irresponsibly working on an upcoming Soul Eater story (I know, I know, don't laugh.) For some inane reason I'm just having an absolute blast with it.

Any who, please leave a review! They are love.

Chapter Ten: Hundred Pound Dog, will be posted 04/21/17.

Hope to see you then.