Ruroni-Chan: Hello everyone! I'm so happy to be getting as many welcome back replies as I am, not to mention all you readers who are adding me as your favorite. I do ask that more of you review though. If I don't know what you think of the story, I can't improve it. To my other reviews, I know my early chapters were badly edited, but they're out there, it's unlikely that I'll change them.

Slydoran-chan: You know you shouldn't say that…

Ruroni-chan: Why?

Slydoran-chan: Because I might just have to make you fix them, now.

Ruroni-chan: (Crying) MEAN AND EVIL WOMAN!!!

Slydoran-chan: (Smiles evily) I know I am and I love it.

Ruroni-chan: (Still crying) Okay everyone, remember to read, review and enjoy. Doing all that makes me post faster!!

Genz, Bryn, Ami, Lam, Jacob, Anderson, Sou and I stood together at the platform for the train station. Jacob, Anderson and Bryn stood around Genz, Jacob was holding Genz's metal arm, but had a handgun trained on Genz's head. Anderson and Jacob held rifles also aimed at Genz's large bulk. Lam had her rifle on me and Ami was checking my hand cuffs for the fifth time in the past hour. None of them fully understood why they were transporting two people who'd once looked like Dalka Hesperus and Genz Bresslau as though they were prisoners.

Let me back up a little. After my shower three days before, I'd found Genz and dragged him back to Sou's office and explained my plan. We'd borrowed civilian clothes from the locals, and I'd changed the pigment in Genz's hair and skin, making him look like a southern version of himself. He wore a simple white shirt with long sleeves. The sleeve that should have hidden his automail was empty and pinned under his arm. He had added it over his plain brown pants and faded army green kilt, and brightly-colored and striped shoulder-and-waist sash. Because he currently only had one arm, he didn't have handcuffs, but wore ankle-cuffs, which hindered how well he could run. No one else knew that the ankle-cuff would come apart if he used too much pressure. It insured Genz could make a get-away if he needed.

I had also changed the color of my skin and eyes, turning my skin the same golden brown of the native women and my eyes to a light amber color. Highlighting this, I wore a red sari with golden trim and embroidery over my tightened pants, matching slippers, and a matching red, short-sleeved shirt that fit me like a second skin. On my arms and around my neck were silver chains, bangles, and other pieces of jewelry no one would expect to be my sword, knives, one gun, and my watch. I'd put all the leather that came with those items around Genz's automail, which was also wrapped with in the extra cloth of my and Genz's wardrobe, turned into a solid cloth with a little alchemy. No one would think that Genz and I were anything other than two very important rebel warriors, who'd been turned prisoners and were being transported to a more northern and better protected government facility.

I shifted on my feet and jingled, drawing attention to myself. Bryn, Ami, Lam, Jacob and Anderson all looked at me, uncomfortable with this plan that told them so little about. Sou had ordered them to act as guards because I trusted them (well, all but Anderson, and I just didn't know that much about him. I worked with him, but he was fairly quiet and only spoke when he found it necessary). Sou had explained to them all that they were going to help transport me and Genz to the train station, he and I disguised as prisoners. The seven of us were to go into the village, where Genz and I would 'be traded for a priestess and her guard." In fact, it was in the village that Genz and I had changed our appearances. Ami and the others would then help Sou transport them (us) to the train station where Major Armstrong would take over our transport and take us to South headquarters.

Then the priestess and her guard would mysteriously disappear and "teenage Megan Smith and her thirty-year-old brother Jim" would take a train to a small town just outside of Central where they would meet up with their grand-uncle, (now) Lieutenant General Grumman (he'd moved up in rank). Once in the safety of Grumman's home, a civilian doctor would appear, and First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye would transport me, by car, into the military hospital in which Jean Havoc was being cared for. In Central, I'd stay either in the hospital or with Mustang. Genz would stay with Grumman running a predetermined list of errands that would make it seem like a young lady with a health condition was staying with her loving grand-uncle. Grumman even had a doctor friend of his coming to visit, so it would seem like there was an ill girl staying in his home. Genz didn't know this part yet, and more than likely he wouldn't agree.

So far we'd completed the part up to transporting us to the train station. We were now waiting for Armstrong's train to arrive. Armstrong's train was late, and the out-going train was waiting for the incoming train to arrive so some of the passengers could switch trains and Armstrong could properly transport his 'prisoners'.

The sound of a train whistle blew across the small valley we where waiting in. I lifted my head quickly, and turned to the tracks where the train was pulling in. The movement to anyone else would seem either surprised and scared, or excited and awaiting. Ami, Lam, Jacob, and Genz knew the look in my eyes, which I barely managed to keep contained. It was determination; I was determined to fix whatever was wrong with Havoc.

The train pulled to a stop in front of the platform. The large form of Armstrong loomed out of the train, and a red-haired man in a uniform followed after him. I lifted my chin and attempted to turn my pleased look into a defiant one. "Who in the name of the gods are you?" I demanded.

Armstrong looked down his thick, hawk-like nose at me. "Major Alex Louis Armstrong, Miss. And you are the prisoners we are to transport."

I fixed him with a glare. "Do not speak so commonly of me, sir. I am a priestess, chosen to speak with the military of the peace of our nation. You will show me the respect I've earned and spent my life training for. Do not look down your nose at me, and you will address me as Lady Priestess, just as I will address you by your title, Major Armstrong."

The entire station seemed to quiet. Everyone stared in shock at the small girl in handcuffs who dared to speak in such a way to such a large, imposing man. The large dark-haired man standing to her side shuffled between the small girl and the large man and let out a low growling sound. This seemed to reawaken the station and Armstrong regained his tongue. "I will address you as politely as you address me, Miss."

"Lady Priestess, Major, not Miss." I insisted.

Armstrong shot a glare at me and turned to the red-haired man. "Breda, load the prisoners onto the train," he ordered. Armstrong then turned to Sou and saluted him."Sir, if it's alright with you, I will take these prisoners to South Headquarters."

Sou saluted back. "Make sure you bring them back. I made a trade of her for my alchemist, and I want my alchemist back soon."

While this script was not rehearsed, it was planned with the use of Armstrong's knowledge thus far and what I knew of his personality. I was being helped onto the train by the time Sou and Armstrong were signing the papers that transferred the control of the rebel prisoners. This was all fake, but when it was over no one would know any better.

Breda walked in front of me and Genz. Lam, Ami and Jacob followed behind. Lam and Jacob loaded Genz's automail into the overhead rack of the private carriage Mustang had made sure we had. Once we were off it would be just Genz, Breda, Armstrong and I, so we would be able to talk.

I settled into a seat by the window and pulled the hood of the sari so my face and head were better hidden. Genz sat to my right and put his hand on my shoulder in an almost possessive way. I leaned back in my seat but kept my eyes on the window as I watched my friends climb back into the two vehicles and drive away. All of them but Anderson and Sou looked over their shoulders at the train nervously. I could tell from Sou's posture he was worried too, and Anderson was concentrating on his driving. I was suddenly unsure of Anderson. He'd shown so little emotion . . . Was he really on my side?

The train lurched to a start, but I sat silently, shooting glares in character until the conductor came by and collected tickets from Armstrong. Then I waited until his voice disappeared to slip my handcuffs off.

I dropped the hood of the sari, squared my shoulders, and looked at Armstrong. "So, Alex, How have you been?"

Armstrong looked at me oddly, "I'm well . . ."

"Good," I said shortly and looked at Breda. "You must be Heymans Breda," I smiled. "Havoc's told me about you." I offered my hand. "It's good to finally meet you."

Breda shook my hand. "Uh . . . How do you . . . uh . . . Lady Priestess?"

"Yes," I said as I nodded, "keep calling me that until we part ways." I looked back at Armstrong. "How's Ed?"

"He's doing well," Armstrong replied. "We dropped him off in Resembool before coming this way."

"That's good to hear," I let the smile stay on my face. "Is it correct to assume you've shared information between him, Mustang and yourself?"

"It is." Armstrong raised an eyebrow.

"Share it," I almost ordered the older man.

He cocked his head to one side, so I elaborated. "I need to know the faces we're up against. I already have an idea of what they look like and what they are but I'm not sure. So I need you to share as much information as you can."

Both men exchanged looks before Armstrong pulled out his notebook and sketched faces. There were four of them: the buxom woman who I knew had stabbed Havoc, a strong-looking man with spiky hair, a thin one with long hair almost styled in dreadlocks, and a fat one that looked really dumb. I looked over each of them before speaking again.

"This one," I held up the one with spiky hair, Greed, "has changed. He's not dead, but his face has changed." I picked up the woman. Lust, next, "She, however, is dead."

I saw the surprised looks in their faces. Armstrong looked concerned as he asked, "How do you know this?"

I shot him a look. "Mustang knows that answer, and I think now he believes in my methods. Just trust me in what I say. I know it's the truth." I looked over the other two. I knew something had happened to the fat one, but I wasn't sure what. I felt my whole body tense as I stared at the picture of the slim man with the dreadlocks. "Who's this one?" I asked

Armstrong looked at him, "Edward said his name is Envy."

"I've seen him twice now . . ." That caught everyone's attention. "I saw him the night before I left Central. He was across the street from me . . . and then . . ." I couldn't say the next part out loud. This was the person that had killed Hughes.

"And then what?" Genz asked.

I flinched away from them all. "Don't ask . . . I . . . I just can't . . ."

It was Breda who saw the anger. "What did Envy do?"

I glared at him. I glared at him hard. I glared until he dropped his eyes and mumbled, " 'orry."

I looked away, trying to soften my expression. "There's one more . . ." I said to myself, because I didn't want to endanger the three men with me. "He's either Wrath or Pride . . . But then where is Sloth?"

Armstrong at me oddly again. "How do you know their names?"

I looked up at him, the nail of my thumb between my teeth. I removed it quickly. "Oh, um . . . Where I'm from, the only time the words 'envy,' 'greed,' 'gluttony,' and 'lust' are together is when you add the words 'wrath', 'sloth', and 'pride' to them. They're called the Seven Deadly Sins . . . I know there are at least five, but I don't know the other two. It's just an amount of time."

"So who's the other one?" Breda asked, "I mean, we only have four here."

I waved a hand in a circle above my head. "Oh, I don't know his name, but I met him once. He's strong . . ."

Genz asked the next question. "What did he look like?"

I scratched the back of my head with my eyes shut tight. "Average height . . . When I met him he was in a uniform. I don't remember what he was, I just knew what he was." I lied, Oh boy, did I lie.

"Come on, 'Lady Priestess'," Breda prodded, leaning back in his chair. "We need to know who this guy is. Otherwise, how are we supposed to protect ourselves?"

I sat back as well; I couldn't look at any of the men. "There's not much I can say." Lie. "I mean, I don't remember much about him." Big lie. "He was just some guy." Bigger lie. "Probably doesn't even have much influence." Biggest lie.

I needed to change the subject.

"Listen, I need to go use the head." I put on the handcuffs, adding "Which one of you will escort me?"

It ended up being Breda, because he could move more easily in the halls, despite his gut.

I waited ten minutes after I got back before I started speaking again. "Alright, so I figure you two need to know the plan for our station."

All the men looked at me. Breda and Armstrong had been reading a local paper or a book, while Genz had started to relax and take a nap. I looked back at them. "I mean, you guys have other places you're going, right?"

Breda nodded. "I have to go to see if I can pick up Dr. Marcoh to help you."

Armstrong crossed his arms. "I'm going to Central with you two."

"No," I insisted, "you're going straight to Central. Genz and I are going to a town just east of Central. There's a slight difference."

Armstrong looked unhappy but seemed to agree.

I sighed, "So here's the plan.

"Ten minutes before the train pulls into the station, you're going to take Genz and me to the head. When we pass into the public car, Genz is going to try and make a break for one of the windows. Armstrong, you're going to tackle him, lots of contact. Put him in a stranglehold, anything, just make sure the entire car knows that the way Genz looks is not fake. Breda, when Armstrong goes to tackle Genz, I'm going to react badly. I'm going to try and beat him with my hands. You have to drag me off. I'm going to fight you. Treat me like any other prisoner. This will also be so the entire car knows I'm not fake.

"You will drag us both back to the suite. Then, when we arrive, you will take us both to the public bathrooms, because, well, we still need to relieve ourselves. Breda, you will take me to the door of the bathroom and wait outside. Armstrong, you'll escort Genz in, carrying his automail, but once he's in the stall go back out. Neither of you should stop other people from going in or out. Just let them pass by like nothing special is happening. Genz, when you get in, go to the last stall and knock on the wall when you get there. Wait until I knock back before doing anything. From there you know what to do.

"Breda, when I exit, I'll be wearing this-" I transmuted one of my necklaces into a finer chain with an angel on it and showed it to him, "-and I'll stop and put on a sunhat before I leave. Wait for several people to enter and exit before you walk off. Armstrong, Genz will come out in a suit. He'll stop outside, look around, shift something in his inside coat pocket, and straighten his tie before he walks away. Do the same thing as Breda, then go do something before going to your train.

"Breda, when you walk off I want you to follow one of the women to wherever she's going, then when you see her get on a train or leave the station, stop, turn around, and go to your train or wherever you're going. You'll leave at different times so don't be surprised when one of you walks away and the other doesn't. I want both of you to watch every person that enters and exits with the same intensity. Don't look at me or Genz any differently than anybody else. Genz, you know where to meet me and how to act. But don't forget I'm suppose to be your sickly little sister. Those are the orders, gentlemen, remember them."

I looked at each man in turn. They all nodded. I re-transmuted the necklace and settled back into the seat. "We should all get some rest. If I know Mustang, the train won't stop until noon tomorrow."

I shifted in my seat so I could lean against Genz's arm and shoulder. Genz settled again and shortly began to doze. Breda stepped outside to make it seem like someone was standing guard and Armstrong went back to the book; it looked tiny in his large hands.

Hours passed. Breda and Armstrong switched places at one point, so Breda was napping, but I did not relax. I had too much on my mind. I was trying to remember what happened to most spinal injury victims; Breda had told me how badly Havoc was hurt when he took me to the head.

Genz shifted slightly, drawing me out of my pretend doze. "Dalka . . ." His voice was very low; if he hadn't turned his head towards me and been so close, I never would have heard him. "What are you thinking about? You radiate worry."

I shifted, rolling so my ear was against his chest. "I'm worried about my friend. The one that's hurt."

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"My friend has a spinal injury . . . Everything I've ever heard about those injuries says that they never heal. I can't undo something. I can only speed up the healing, and I don't know if I can help him," I explained to Genz.

"You'll help him. I know you too well to say you'd give up once you get there." Genz's voice had a comforting rumble to it with my ear next to him, and it was lulling me to sleep. "Just take things one day at a time. Don't lose faith. Now settle; we have several days of travel ahead of us."

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and I moved my head so his shoulder cradled the back of my head. I napped off and on, filling my remaining time with a book Breda had borrowed for me and watching the landscape pass by. Three days crawled by painfully slowly

Ruroni-Chan: Okay everyone, just a reminder! The more of you review, the fast I'll get the chapters back to you!!!

Slydoran-chan: (Smirks) Not if your teachers load you down with more home work than me…

Ruroni-chan: (Glares) At least I can drive.

Slydoran-chan: I hate you…