August 24th, 1990

Anika had meant it when she said she was fine without a big wedding. Given how little she had previously worried about dating or weddings at all, as absorbed as she had often been in her fascinating and satisfying work with Myrda and other big cats, being married at all was still a bit novel as a concept. She, Fyo, Liena, and Mrs. Volkova had all received their papers the day before, permitting them to remain and live in Amestris for as long as they had work, which the zoo had also promised them all on at least a probationary basis to start, while they got their animals settled in and integrated with the Central Zoo's animals. If they worked out, the positions would become permanent.
Niki and Gavril had not signed papers, because neither of them planned to stay in Amestris. Niki would be going with Gavril into the Western parts of Drachma to help encourage the needed uprising. While it seemed weird to try and force a further split in a country in order to try and reunite it, the strategy seemed sound enough. Still, Anika would miss her brother.

The marriage itself was not complicated. As long as she was legally working in the country, anyone with the legal authority to officiate a wedding could marry them, and few would have objected. They went down to the courthouse and—with Ted's parents there, smiling and supportive—they signed the necessary papers, exchanged vows, and it was done.

Then they went to a house that belonged to Ted's Uncle Ethan and his wife, which Anika understood to be the family home. While they no longer lived there, it had been the house Ted's grandparents had first bought in Central, and had been in the family since. This, Anika understood.

It was a small familiarity in a sea of unfamiliar faces. Even though she had been assured this wasn't anywhere close to all of Ted's family, given they did not all live in Central, and not all extended relatives had been invited, it was still a surprising number of people, only a very small number of which she had previously met. Anika was grateful that Cassandra had "kept it small."

Anika had already met Ted's other Aunt and Uncle; the President of the Military and his wife, Sara, whom Anika was already growing to like very much. Their son and daughter were in attendance, with their spouses and children. Anika recognized both Roy and Trisha Mustang from their involvement in the rescue of the Amestrians from Karmatsk, which made it easier to approach them and talk as well.

Everyone else was new, though friendly, and surprisingly unconcerned about the fact that she was Drachman—unless they were all exceptional actors—or that her father was a General who had once commanded men in an army that had fought against Amestris, including people who were actually in the room. They truly did not seem to be a family that held grudges, and she began to see where Ted got many of his more noble qualities.

Three of Ted's five siblings were present at the party. His oldest brother Coran, with his wife, and their sons; his younger sister Callie; and one of the middle brothers, the actor and his wife. Anika had admitted that she had actually heard of Ian Elric. Several of his movies had played in Petrayevka—usually with subtitles—and he was quite popular with women who liked international stars. She had seen a couple of them, and while she was not the fangirling type, she had enjoyed them. Here, being famous meant little in a room full of people who were well known in their own ways. Anika actually began to feel more comfortable as she got used to the dynamic. It was not unlike dinners her father had thrown at the house; full of people who were hugely important, yet amongst each other they were just friends or colleagues. Well-connected families were not an anomaly in her life, and the Elric clan was simply another one of them, in a different country.

Socializing with them was much the same, and Anika began to enjoy herself as she got used to the very large new family she had just become a part of.

"Forgotten everyone's names yet?"

Anika turned away from refilling her glass with sparkling cider to find Bonnie standing there, smiling. Clearly, she was teasing. Anika smiled. "When I was a child, my brothers and I used to make a game out of identifying important people at the parties our parents held. There was a time when I could identify every ranking officer in the Drachman military who ever walked into our house, and most of the nobility, as well as cite you a wealth of now-useless trivia about them. So far, I think I've got everyone here, though it's a little intimidating to realize this isn't even half of the family."

"I take it yours is smaller? I know mine is." Bonnie nodded.

"I have three older brothers," Anika replied. "Only one is married with children so far, and my father only has one younger brother. My mother was an only child, so family get togethers are less crowded. This one is still missing at least twenty people?" She thought that was right, given two of Ted's brothers, and their families, and the grandparents, were not present. That did not include the cousins and those who married in on the other side.

"At the very least," Bonnie agreed. "Art and Deanna have seven children, and getting them all anywhere is an expensive proposition. Urey and Raina don't usually travel during school since Raina's a teacher. Right now she's on leave, but that's because she's due anytime in the next couple of weeks."

So she wasn't the only one in the family expecting. And if she'd heard a comment earlier correctly, there were three. Not that Bonnie looked outwardly pregnant. "You and Ian are expecting your first too, aren't you?"

Bonnie smiled. "Yes, but not until sometime next April, so we've got a while to get the apartment ready."

"That's a blessing," Anika agreed. "I don't even know where we'll be living yet, though everyone seems to have suggestions for good neighborhoods, so I suspect it won't take us long to look at a few places."

"Are you more interested in a house, an apartment, or something in between?" Bonnie asked curiously.

"If we can afford it, I'd prefer something with a yard. Growing up, we always had plenty of room to run around. It wouldn't need to be huge, but someplace for kids to play, and maybe a dog." She and Ted hadn't had a chance to really plan pets, but given her love of animals, and his fond stories of growing up with dogs, she doubted it would be a matter of if, only when. "Though that's a long-term plan. Right now, I think anything we find that will work for the short-term will be acceptable." Especially since while the zoo had been kind enough to offer employment, there wasn't much she could do right now out of her usual duties, and there would be time off coming in less than two months, when the baby arrived. Between that, and assisting as an informational source for Amestris' intelligence division and a contact between her father and the Amestrian government, she had more than enough to keep her busy.

"Well if you need anything, let me know. I mean it."

From her tone, Anika could tell that the other woman was entirely sincere, and in that moment, she was certain they would not only be sisters-in-law, but friends. "Thank you. I will."

August 26th, 1990

Date night; it was almost a miracle for Shelby to hear those words, and know that it meant that she and Charlie would have an evening all to themselves. No children, no homework, no physical therapy, no work; just a nice time out, the two of them. Not that they had planned anything incredibly original, or fancy, but a movie, followed by dinner at their favorite little Aerugean restaurant was more than they'd had to themselves in almost four years. Alyse had offered to watch her grandchildren for the evening, and Shelby hadn't been about to turn down the offer.

It felt so good to get out of the house and have some adult time. Shelby had taken the time to put her hair up, wear one of her favorite blue blouses with a tiny floral print, with matching earrings, nice jeans, and her favorite blue flats that matched. Months of diligent exercise made her much happier with the image in the mirror. While she knew that wasn't what attracted Charlie to her, as his hand healed, he had become less internally focused. It was nice to have intimacy back in her life. Now that Abigail was potty trained, Cam walking, and Summer was eleven-months old and weaned, that meant no more breastfeeding, and only two babies in diapers. It was amazing how much easier her life was just with those small developmental milestones.

As soon as they were out the door, Shelby did her best to put the children out of her mind. They would be fine with their grandmother, and she desperately needed some couple time.

The movie was enjoyable; nothing spectacular, but it had a nice balance of adventure and romance and a happy ending. She held Charlie's hand through the entire film, and enjoyed being close. Then it was on to dinner.

Over dinner of her favorite shrimp tacos and his beef fajitas, they talked on and off about the movie they had just watched, including favorite moments and the strengths of the character development, and lacking points in the plot.

It was during a quiet moment over dessert custard that Charlie set down his drink. "Shels…there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about."

He looked pensive but then, he'd had a lot on his plate lately, Shelby knew, with his physical therapy and his anxieties about getting back to work. His auto-mail port site still hurt him daily, even if it was mostly aches instead of acute pain now. Some days were worse than others. "Of course. What is it?"

"I… I don't think this is working."

"What isn't working?" Her stomach flipped uncomfortably.

Charlie averted his eyes for a few seconds, before forcing them upwards to meet hers. There was agony there. "Us. Well…me. I can't… I can't be what you need me to be. I'm a terrible husband. I'm not even a good parent. I can't…tie a shoe, or change a diaper."

So that's what this was about. "That's because you're still healing," she pointed out in her most patient tone. Was that what was worrying him? "You're doing fine."

"I almost killed Cam last week!"

"Oh, you did not. He's just sensitive to ingredients in that particular lotion. The rash went away." It had been a minor incident. Their son had been uncomfortable, but in no actual danger.

Charlie did not look reassured. "But I'm his father. I should have known that."

"All of these things take time. No one expects you to remember every little detail."

"You remember it all." He gestured at her with his real hand.

"I've spent most of my time at home with the kids since Cam was born. I learned it all along the way." It certainly hadn't been instinctive.

Charlie looked away, shame clear on his face. "I should have been there."

"Yes… that's in the past though. You're home now. You can make up for it." She paused, as an unpleasant thought crossed her mind. The last thing she wanted to do was ask, but… "That is in the past… right? You haven't been… seeing anyone else?"

"No!" Charlie objected vehemently. "NO…I wouldn't. I promised I just… This isn't how things were supposed to be for us. I… I wanted better for you."

The knot inside her loosened. "Charlie, I know this isn't what we planned. Not that we really planned anything. We were kids… we were impatient. But this is our life, and it's not a bad one at all."

"Except for me. You'd all be better off if I wasn't such a loser."

"You're not a loser." She reached out, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

"I'm glad you don't think so." He looked unconvinced.

"You're a hard-working person who cares deeply about people. You put your heart into everything, even if it doesn't turn out the way you hoped. You couldn't have prevented what happened to you. It wasn't your fault, and no one blames you for what happened. As soon as your hand is fully functional, you'll be able to go back to doing what you love. I know being home all the time isn't always fulfilling."

Charlie looked uncomfortable with that statement, but he nodded. "I just wish I was half as good at balancing all this stuff as you are."

"You'll get there. I promise."

For the rest of dinner, Charlie seemed a little reserved, but more cheered, and the conversation turned back to other things. When they got home, Charlie's mother was waiting, and all three children were, amazingly, sound asleep in their beds at the same time. Shelby hoped it lasted. There were some nights when all three slept the entire night through, and she hoped this would be one of them.

She was undressing for bed when she felt Charlie move up behind her, his arms wrapping lovingly around her waist, his breath on her neck. Smiling, she relaxed into his embrace and turned, kissing him warmly.

Just because the children were in bed early didn't mean they had to be.

August 27th, 1990

Franz was trying his best not to have another heart-attack as he stood there along the quiet air field outside Central in the pre-dawn light. While he knew that the plan counted on quick execution in getting it into motion, the fact that it was Sara's plan, and that Sara was involved in physical going in any way, raised his anxiety levels.
The crew for the plane was a small one, given this was primarily an insurgent drop. Gavril Mihalov and Niki Marskaya, along with Mina Leopold—one of the Drachman Embassy aides—were the three Drachmans going into western Drachma to kick off the coup. The Amestrian team, there to demonstrate support and help negotiate, but primarily to drop them off and get out again, consisted of Sara as the senior officer, and Trisha as pilot. That was it.

While, intellectually, Franz knew that they would be taking every precaution not to be noticed, and get in and out quickly, the idea of Sara going back into Drachma at all, and Trisha going with her, terrified him.

He couldn't help thinking of the argument they'd had a few nights ago when he had tried, for the tenth time, to talk Sara out of going. It had not gone well.

"No, Franz," Sara shook her head firmly as she stood, hands firmly on her hips, in the middle of the living room. "I told you, I'm going. I'm medically cleared for anything likely to come up on this mission, even though all it should end up being is a series of diplomatic talks. I'm cleared for basic combat and I'm not about to push myself. Besides, I'm the best and most logical choice."

Franz had heard it before, and he still didn't buy it. "Because you were their prisoner? You're not the only person we have we could send who speaks their language. We have Ambassadors for that."

"Not who know these people the way I do."

"We are sending actual Drachmans for that." Gavril Mihalov and Niki Marskaya were more than capable of representing their own people, translating, and understanding what it was these people wanted and needed. "Don't you think maybe this is because of how they treated you? Is this some way of proving you're not helpless anymore? That they didn't win?"

"You really think this is some kind of personal redemption play?" Sara scoffed. "I don't have anything to prove to anyone that hasn't been proven by the simple fact that I survived, and I'm living my life."

"Except that you didn't escape on your own."

"No, I didn't, but I did everything I could to fight them for as long as I could. It doesn't bother me that a plane full of friends and family busted me out of a near-impossible situation. I'm grateful, but I also spent years getting to know these people, and understand them from the inside, where they have no reason to hide anything. I learned how they were manipulated in ways no one from the outside, even other Drachmans, would. That, and this whole thing was my idea, so it's my mission."
"You still have nightmares about that place," he objected. They still made her toss, turn shout, and sometimes woke them both. Not every night, but it would be a long, long time before they ever went away, if they did.

Her expression didn't soften, though her tone did just a little. "I appreciate that you're concerned, but going or not going is not going to change that. It might even help, but that's not the reason I'm going. Call it Alchemist's intuition if you want, or Elric intuition, or just an incredibly educated guess or a gut feeling backed up by logic, but I need to go. No one else has objected strenuously."

He was glad she made the qualifier, because there had been a few raised eyebrows and questions when she insisted on going. No one else had been willing to stand up to her however and tell her no. Almost no one else had the authority.

"That doesn't make this the best idea. I will admit, to being the one with the most to lose if something happens to you…and our daughter." He wasn't thrilled with Trisha going either, but with limited pilots, and sending a second alchemist as back up, it was logically sound. "It hasn't even been a year, and you're running full tilt back into a situation that is far riskier than the one that we all thought had actually killed you."

"What else can I do?" she asked. "This is who I am, and that, at least, is a part of who I've always been. This feels right. It doesn't feel like a suicide mission. It's not some trick. We've got everything carefully planned out, and if anyone can coordinate and improvise with minimal planning, it's me and Trisha. Unless you have a completely valid military reason not to send me, then please stop trying to talk me out of it."

A reason he didn't have. Not really. She had been cleared for the level of duties, even light combat, which might be necessary. She hadn't pushed herself beyond her physical capabilities, and that was part of why she had healed steadily. "All right, but you had better be right about this."

Only then did Sara relax. "Even if you don't trust them; trust me."

That had been the end of it. Not that he felt better about it. Still, all that aside, it was essential that they get Mihalov out of Amestris before his presence was known to anyone outside the Summit, and that meant that time was at a premium. The mission, if it was successful, would only take a few days as far as Sara and Trisha's part. They would not be staying longer than it took to establish communications protocols and make sure they didn't need to remove Mihalov and Marskaya from a hostile situation.

Sara hugged him tightly after they finished the flight pre-check and boarding. "I'll be fine," she whispered in his ear. "You'd better be alive when I get back."

Franz returned the hug fiercely, but her comment made him chuckle. "I have every intention of being so. I order you to come back quickly, and in one piece."

"I'll see you in a few days." Sara kissed him before letting go. Then she turned and boarded the plane.

As Franz stood alone, watching it turn, and taxi down the road, gaining speed until it lifted into the air, he sent up a silent prayer, to anyone or no one, whoever might be listening, to protect them all. He understood that Sara's presence, given her previous history in the region, would be beneficial towards their ends, and that she was the best qualified person for the job, but that didn't make him happy about it.

Her words from a few nights ago came back to him as he finally turned and walked back towards the car. What good is a second chance at my life if I don't make the most of it?

The initial hours of the flight were almost festive, Sara thought, as Trisha flew them north-westward, away from Central, avoiding going directly over towns. Gavril Mihalov, Mina Leopold, and Niki Marskaya were no less impressed with the miraculous views and reality of flying through the sky as anyone else who had been on the plane. The novelty of the situation was enough to keep the mood light and conversation on what Trisha knew about the aircraft and how it worked. Mostly the story turned to how it had been liberated from the Hashman Syndicate years ago, which Trisha told with almost as much gusto as when Sara had heard it from her father just a few months ago. Trisha even used similar inflections and phrasing in several places, that told Sara her daughter had heard it many times from the same source.

Gavril and Niki were suitably impressed. Sara saw no reason not to answer any questions they had. After all, if the Zinoveks were building aircraft—and she had to assume that they would be rebuilding, despite Ted and Roy's successful raid—than the Drachmans would have them again, and she would rather they be responsibly used if this plan worked even in part, and they came back under the control of a more friendly Drachman government.

Eventually, discussion returned to their mission, and the plan ahead, which involved stopping first at the largest, and most well-fortified of the prison work towns. Lyntar, which was also the largest and most extensive set of mines in the mountains, sat mid-way between the northern and southern borders, and was equally half-way between where the country rose up to the mountainous plateaus, and the border with Kartos and the ocean. Even if Savahin got wind of what was happening, there was no quick or secret way to reach Lyntar. There were only the main highways through the mountains.

The prison there was not in any way a maximum security facility. In fact, it had been the one Sara had given the most trouble. She was almost looking forward to this meeting.

First, however, they needed to set up an actual meeting. Much of their planning had gone into deciding the exact timing and phrasing of contact. It had been decided that they would wait until the plane was within radio distance of Lyntar itself, and then Gavril would use the appropriate communication frequency to contact the Mayor of Lyntar, whom intelligence reported had stayed very diligently out of Savahin's bad graces, but was not at all pleased with the new regime. The prison had received a large influx of new inmates, without any additional funding, and it had already been near capacity. While additional workforce might have been appreciated, the inability to properly feed, clothe, or house them was making conditions more than unpleasant. Niki was certain that the Mayor was one of the sources leaking intelligence to the resistance, and that was exactly the sort of person they needed to get this plan rolling; a man with principals, even regarding people for whom few had any regard, and who was well respected in the region. Others would follow if he did.

At least, that was the hope. In her own time there, Sara had never met Timon Ashkov, only heard the name.

She wondered if he remembered the trouble-making alchemist who had staged multiple nearly-successful mass prison breaks.

As it turned out, they wouldn't have to wait long to find out. The flight, which put them in Lyntar by evening, gave them enough time to make contact and schedule a meeting for that very night. Apparently, Timon Ashkov was very interested in a personal visit from Mihalov, and one of the Marskaya boys, and their allies. The specifics of the allies coming was not discussed, nor the means of their arrival. Only the fact that there was no way they had anything that could shoot the plane out of the sky kept Sara from worrying that they wouldn't make it to the ground.

This was Gavril's mission, and from the point Trisha landed the plane on the highway on the edge of town, at the location they had told Ashkov they would be arriving, Sara stepped back and let him have it.

Timon Ashkov was not one of the people waiting for them at the appointed spot, but then they had not expected him to be. What they were met by was a group of four people, at least two of which appeared to be local constabulary, and two cars. The others were a man and a woman, though Sara could not identify anything about them beyond that.

As they disembarked, Sara made sure to tuck the small emergency radio into her sock. Trisha was staying with the plane. If, for some reason, things did not go well, they wouldn't be stuck in Drachma without an escape vehicle.

:Gavril Mihalov, it is an unexpected pleasure to meet you.: The woman, who appeared to be in her mid-20s, stepped forward and took his hand in greeting. :My father is awaiting you. He has held dinner for you in light of your arrival.:

:Our thanks, Miss Ashkov,: Gavril returned the shake, smiling as if this was just an everyday visit, :Both for the consideration and the agreement to meeting with me on such short notice. I am afraid that, these days, I must make all of my appointments with minimal notice.:

:I understand, sir.: Miss Ashkov nodded. :These days, we have to be very discrete. If you and your staff will please step into the cars, we will take you directly to the house.:
In short order, everyone was shuffled into the cars, each with two of the Lyntar Drachmans. Sara was unsurprised to find herself shuffled into the second car with Mina, while Gavril and Niki were in the first with Miss Ashkov. She had come in civilian attire on purpose, and was content to purposefully allow herself to be misidentified as just another aide or secretary, or possibly discrete security. It was unlikely that she would be recognized, particularly not with her hair pulled up uncharacteristically in a very short bun. Her gloves were cleverly disguised alchemist's gloves, in which she'd had Lia carefully stitch her preferred circles on the underside of black leather winter gloves, so no one could see the circles, and they simply looked like women's gloves. No one would look twice at them.

Not that she thought she would need them, but there was no way she was returning to a Drachman prison as a "guest."

The Ashkov house was, like most of the homes in the town, three stories tall, and crammed on a narrow street. Everything was made of the same dark, foreboding stone that was bleak even in nice weather. Still, it was the largest of the row-houses, being nearly triple the length of the others. That was all that made it the Mayor's house.
They were escorted en masse directly to the dining room, where they finally got their first look at Timon Ashkov, a graying man, in his fifties if Sara had to guess.

:Gavril Mihalov, in the flesh!: Ashkov smiled warmly as he came forward, shaking Gavril's hand with a firm grip. :It is good to see you alive and well, though I admit to having been a bit skeptical about the rumors of your survival until you contacted me.:

Gavril shrugged, but smiled as he returned the shake with an equal grip. :Rumors sometimes bear truth. I hope this means you will be willing to hear out our proposal.:

:I am willing to listen to anything,: Ashkov admitted. :While I make no promises to do anything beyond that without hearing it first, I am quite curious as to what you think we can do about the situation in Petrayevka, when it looks as if the resistance is all but finished.:

:Ah, but it only looks that way.: Niki stepped forward. :I can assure you that my father and his comrades and followers are not at all defeated, merely waiting for the right time and orders to strike.:

:You must be Niki Marskaya. You have your father's expression.: Ashkov shook Niki's hand.

Niki shrugged, even as he returned the shake as well. :So I'm told. I'm here to speak on his behalf, with negotiating authority for the Eastern portion of the resistance.: He then turned and gestured to Sara and Mina. :You will find our other allies words carry equal weight.:

Only now did Ashkov show any real interest in the two women, when they were referred to as allies. :You said you had backing for your idea that would be worth my while. I presume these ladies are important then, though I admit I do not recognize them.:

:That's because we're not often seen on Drachman television,: Sara took control of the moment and stepped forward. :This is Mina Leopold, an aide at the Drachman Embassy in Central, Amestris, and member of the diplomatic corps that Savahin has abandoned.:

Ashkov blinked, shaking Mina's hand as she came forward. :You came here from Amestris? How did you get out? How did you get here? Was that the origin of your flight in that aircraft sitting outside my city?:

At last, someone who was not a fool. Sara nodded. :You would be correct. I do hope you told your people not to mess with our transportation. The security is excellent.:

:I warned them to leave it and the pilot alone,: Ashkov acknowledged, though he was now looking at Sara warily. :You are not Drachman, though your accent is almost flawless and reminiscent of this region:

Sara smiled. :Very observant, Mayor Ashkov. I am here, primarily, as transportation, and as proof that this offer and idea is very serious, and very real.: She held out her hand. :Sara Elric Heimler, at your service.:

Ashkov's face went briefly ashen, though he recovered quickly, taking her hand. She noticed the grip was not quite as firm as the others. :Heimler. The Heimler who escaped from Valhov… General Heimler… alchemist Heimler?:

Apparently he was aware of international news after all. The moment was too good to pass up. Sara nodded. :You might know me better as prisoner three-three-five-six-oh-two-nine-four. I'm afraid I destroyed a few walls during my last stay in Lyntar.:

For a moment, she thought he was going to drop her hand. :I… I must apologize,: he stammered, now truly flustered. :I did not know—:

:Don't,: Sara cut him off. :You have thousands of political prisoners within the walls of the prison. If you do not intend to apologize to them, do not apologize to me. As you might imagine, I have a very personal mission to see that the prison system in Drachma is reformed and fixed. That cannot happen unless Savahin and the Zinoveks are removed, and a more civil government is restored. I am here to speak for your new potential allies, should you choose to accept the offer being made to you here this evening. Shall we eat?:

Gavril flashed her an appreciative smile as Ashkov agreed with her and they all moved to their seats. Dinner itself was a relatively quiet affair with Ashkov, his wife, and daughter. Dinner conversation focused mostly on a very edited version of Gavril's escape from Karmatsk with Niki, and their braving Amestris as a potential safe place. It was better to leave out unnecessary details, including Amestrian involvement. After dinner, they adjourned to a sitting room, where Gavril carefully laid out the entire plan, with occasional inclusions from Niki, regarding the split of the Western region of Drachma, and how that would hamstring Savahin's operation, allowing them to divide and conquer the country, winning it back in sections. Gavril also spent a good bit of time explaining the idea of allowing those regions to continue to exist as states with more autonomy, with a less invasive, though still representative, central government. He assured him of the option that should a region choose to decide to become a separate country, they wished only the opportunity to make a treaty of alliance and would not fight it.

:It's time for the myriad regions of Drachma to be allowed their identities.:

Ashkov sipped his drink, looking both intrigued and thoughtful. :I admit, it's a fascinating, and tempting idea.: His eyes fell on Sara. :Why would Amestris send you to represent potential foreign allies?:

:You mean other than the fact this was my idea?: Sara asked flatly. :Timon, who would you be more likely to trust, some Amestrian diplomat with some study of Drachma, or someone who has lived here? If I can see that Drachma deserves better, than our allies, and yours, are more likely to believe.:

:It still does little to put you at risk,: Ashkov pointed out. :If we do not manage to successfully demonstrate our own autonomy—if the Zinovek's crush us—than you will have no need to get involved.:

:That, is very much not true,: Sara shook her head. :Think. If the Western portion of Drachma fails, it continues to leave our allies, Kartos and Creta, directly exposed to Savahin's expansionist attempts, as well as leaving us open to retaliation and another costly war with an enemy we have never wanted. If you demonstrate the ability to become a viable state, than the allied nations will support you, and gain a new ally whom we can afford to trade with fairly for resources. You will still need imports from elsewhere for what does not grow well in these mountains. You do not need to form a new country, only raise enough support to separate yourselves from this one, who clearly does not give one whit for draining you dry, and overcrowding your prisons. His projects and need for military force are sucking the resources out of here. You know it, and I know it. You have the basis for enough resistance that if you combine the forces of the towns here, and with the various resistance cells that are trying to survive on their own, you could do this. It's very possible.:

:But arming prisoners?:

:They are your allies. I'm not saying release murderers, I'm talking about thousands of people whose crimes are in disagreeing with or being inconvenient for political and noble powers over decades, or trying to survive. The ones fortunate enough not to have been put to death. Offer amnesty, or a new chance at life, or at least a review of their cases, and you would have an army willing to throw themselves at the newest version of a government that none of them trust.:

They waited then, in the quiet, as Ashkov thought deeply, and Sara knew it was best not to disturb him. If they didn't, she was almost certain they had him, and as the Mayor of the biggest town, if they had him, they had a good chance of getting the cooperation of the rest of the towns in the region.

If they didn't, well, they might have to fight their way out to get out of here.

Finally, Ashkov nodded, and sighed. :I'm in, if you can get the support of the others.: