III
It had taken nearly forty years before railways built through Ishbal. The issue went back to before Fuhrer Bradley. The idea had first arisen under the administration of Cedric I, when he wanted to establish commerce between Drachma and the eastern nations. The railways cut the travel time by nearly an hour, and George Maxwell was thankful for that. He could feel the blistering heat as he stuck his hand out the window. The wind caressed his hand with a heated blow, like the breath of a dog. Outside, he had watched as the landscape changed from paved roads, to forests, and eventually to the scorching plains of a god he had lost faith with long ago. "We're almost there." he said. Across from him, Major Mensk sat quietly, curled up in his seat.
"Mhm. Yes, sir." he groaned, not bothering to open his eyes. Maxwell watched his comrade with some interest, before again staring out the window, and this time thinking back nearly thirty years to when Drachma had gained its independence from Amestris during the revolution. In some ways, George admired the younger generations of soldiers for their tenacity, but at the same time felt that it came from the fact that they had no real grasp of actual combat. It made him sad to think that in perhaps another twenty years, men like him who had experienced the revolution first hand would be gone, but he usually brushed such feeling aside and went on with business as usual. He forgot about it as the train slowly pulled into the platform in Ishbal. He could hear the sound of trumpets blaring and looked out the window to see a group of people gathered at the platform. Some were dressed in traditional Ishbali robes while others wore the crude khaki uniforms of that nation's soldiers. As Maxwell and the groggy Mensk emerged from the train, one of the men in Khaki approached them and shook the senior officer's hand.
"General Maxwell, it's an honor to finally have you with us." he said. "I'm Colonel Ahkmed Malik."
"It's a pleasure to meet Colonel Malik. Am I to assume that everything is in order as we have agreed? His majesty wishes for things to be done quickly so we can prepare for any reaction from Amestris."
"Indeed it is. Our leaders have already signed the agreement, and we now we wish for you take part in the flag-lowering ceremony." Malik pointed to the bottom of the platform where a single flagpole stood in the center of a town square.
"Thank you, Colonel. Both I and Colonel Mensk would be honored to do so." Ahkmed bowed, and out of respect, both the General and his assistant did as well. Nicolai then reached into his pocket, drawing a whistle and blowing it, causing several platoons of soldiers to spill forth from the cars of the train.
"Battalion! Fall in!" shouted Mensk. The soldiers scrambled to quickly to form two companies of sixteen soldiers and stood stiffly with their weapons at their sides at the bottom of the platform. The were silent as Colonel Malik and a group of five Ishbali soldiers slowly lowered their flag, a yellow background with a crescent moon and eight pointed star in red. They folded it slowly and saluted. "Battalion!" shouted Mensk. "Present arms!" The sixteen men saluted with their rifles, then five men in Drachman uniforms with red sashes marched between the two companies and formed at the bottom of the pole. They saluted as Colonel Malik and his men stepped aside, then unfolded the Drachman flag, a black background with a red circle and trident in the center, and hoisted it to the top of the pole. When Ahkmed and his men had finished saluting, the five men turned to General Maxwell.
"Colors posted sir."
"Very well then. Fall out." The general turned to the battalion. "Batallion, fall out, and get to work!"
XXXXXXXX
Fuhrer Bradley watched from one of the windows of his office as soldiers marched across the parade ground below. Young men, they were, some perhaps barley out of their teens and twenties. He watched them with a feeling of strange, macabre, certainty, knowing full well that their very lives were in his hands, and if Drachma continued with things as planned, it would become his responsibility to send them to the front. The telephone rang and he turned to it, half-expecting the worse news he could imagine. "This is Bradley." he said lightly into the receiver.
"Fuhrer," spoke Samuel. "Colonel Miller from the Drachman embassy is here to see you." he said.
"Very good. Send him in." The Amestrisian leader hung up the phone and waited until the black-clad officer arrived in his office.
"Colonel Miller. It's good see you again." said Bradley as he stuck out his hand. The Drachman officer reached out and shook it with a well-intentioned motion.
"The very same, Fuhrer." Miller sat down and crossed his legs, as did Bradley, laying his arms flat across the desk. "Your highness, I'll be blunt. The leaders of my nation find your proposal unacceptable. We feel it is an attempt to control our actions by a foreign nation, and we will not bow so easily to any such tyrannical actions."
"Tyrannical? I hardly feel it to be a tyrannical action to be looking out for the welfare of my country." retorted the Amestrisian leader.
"The burden of proof that we may attempt any hostile actions against you country lies on your shoulders. You have no valid reason for stampeding our actions."
"As I said, I am looking out for the welfare of my country. If your leaders cannot understand that, then I feel I will have no choice but to take actions against them."
"Then our negotiations have failed." said Colonel Miller solemnly.
"It would appear so. I'll prepare your safe departure and return to Drachma. You will tell your leaders that they have 48 hours to withdraw from Ishbal."
"As you wish, your' Excellency."
XXXXXXXX
The national bureau of communications in Drachma was a gray-brick building with tall pillars supporting the awning of the front entrance. If not for the Drachman banners that hung from between those pillars, it was not very distinguishable from any of the older buildings in the historical district. The royal limousine carrying his majesty, Emperor Cedric III, pulled up to the front of the monolithic piece of architecture, causing some whispers from the men outside. When they saw that their overlord emerge from the vehicle, they stiffened raised their hands in salutes. "Your majesty. Everything is prepared as per your instructions." spouted one of the guards in a nervous overtone. The emperor stopped and turned his head slowly towards the man, seemingly enjoying the feelings of dread he was deriving from the nervous man.
"Thank you." he said before walking into the door. In the main lobby, a man in a three-piece suit and ascot came forward and bowed.
"You majesty, everything has been prepared for you. Our operator will be making an announcement shortly." The man in the ascot led Cedric and his men to a small glass booth with a series of large machines across the walls, each possessing all manner of dials and switches. The man in the booth pulled his microphone closer and spoke "And in just a few moments we will be hearing an official address from his majesty, Emperor Cedric III." before tapping another button. He then opened the door and bowed to Cedric before leading him to a seat with a microphone in front of him. The button clicked, and the operator turned. "Go ahead, your majesty."
"My people, loyal and patriotic citizens of Drachma. As you are already aware, yesterday, the annexation of the Ishbal took place. What you may not be aware of is that before this, I was handed an official ultimatum, stating that Amestris would seek actions against us should we attempt this. I have made an official reply to Fuhrer Bradley, stating quite clearly that we will not tolerate his tyranny, and we will not succumb to any of his threats. Forty years ago, we won our independence from the villainous dictatorship of Amestris, and if we must to fight to uphold our right to existence as a nation, then we shall." The operator in the booth cut the power and the tiny light turned off. Those watching window began to clap. Cedric was a man of few words, and he may not have always been the most brilliant of public speakers, but that didn't matter. He always chose eloquent words that captivated his audience and hypnotized them.