IV

The two days passed by slowly, but for Commander Enos Morris of the HFS (His Fuhrer's Ship) Dependable, they were like any other days. Being at sea meant he lost rack of time more easily. The ocean did not know time. It was the same anywhere you went, simply a vast oblivion, and a beautiful one too. Enos had stood for nearly twenty minutes and watched as the waves rolled in the distance, slowly coming up and lapping against the hull of his ship. A light breeze gently tossed the tails of his coat and filled his nostrils with salt air. "Coffee for you sir." Enos looked to his left to see ensign Edmon Colt.

"Thank you ensign." said Enos as he took the large tin cup and sipped. He screwed his face and gulped it down, throwing the rest in the sea. "Making it with urine?" he commented non-chalantly as he leaned on the railing.

"No sir. Petty officer Marshall made it sir." Edmon was new on the ship. He was a raw recruit, just reaching commissioned officer status upon release from the Amestris military academy, and still not free from all the formalities.

"Ensign,"

"Yes sir?"

"You are aware that I like to keep an informal ship? All this sir bullshit really wears on my nerves."

"I see, sir. I wasn't aware of that. What would you have me call you?"

"At the very least, you can call me Commander. Once you've been aboard the Dependable long enough, you can start calling me Enos."

"How long will that take, Commander?" inquired the young ensign.

"You'll know. You'll already catching on." Morris shot a sly look at the young officer who laughed slightly and looked over the railing with him. "I love the sea, but my wife says I'm too old to still be in the navy. I'm not willing to grow my land legs, so she says I should become a fisherman instead."

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking Commander?"

"Old enough. I'm fifty, and I think she's right." Edmon said nothing, simply jerking his jaw in admiration.

"Enos! We're receiving a message!" The commander looker up to the radio room that stood on a tower above the deck to see Lt. Commander Steven Kiddie standing over the railing.

"Well, what the hell does it say?" replied Enos.

"I think you should read it for your self." The commander quickly climbed the ladder to radio room, Ensign Colt following close behind. Another officer in the room sat writing as the metallic beep of the telegraph rattled off coded messages. After a few minutes, he tore the page off the pad and quickly handed it to Enos, who read it, and then picked up the microphone for the ship's loud-speaker system.

"Attention, attention. This is Commander Enos Morris. At approximately 4:36 PM, Amestris standard time, on Thursday the twelfth of June, Fuhrer Bradley issued a 48 hour ultimatum for Drachman troops to withdraw from Ishbal. They have not. As of 4:36 PM, we are officially at war with the Kingdom of Drachma. In addition, our ally Creta has declared it's support for our cause and will be mobilizing. We are being ordered to return to Central Harbor to re-supply before engaging in a naval blockade of all Drachma shipping in the Adiumus Sea." Enos set down the speaker. Throughout the ship, a faint cheer could be heard.

XXXXXXX

There was a low buzzing sound that could be heard over the parade grounds of the Central command center. Soldier in loose formation all turned their heads upwards to see a few passing bi-wing airplanes gliding slowly over below the cloud line.

"Take a look at that." said 2nd Lieutenant John Parker.

"It's one of those new-fangled aeroplanes." commented, Joshua Landcomb, another volunteer of equivalent rank.

"I spose' the Drachmans have their hands of something like that. It doesn't matter though. We're still gonna' kick the shit out of them."

"If we could stop gaping at the new toys for a moment, I would like to have all of your attention." The various men and women all turned to look at the entrance arch to the parade grounds. Major Maes Hughes stood there Flanked by Edward and Alphonse Elric. The new recruits all snapped to attention. "I'll leave it to you Edward. Alphonse, come with me."

"What? Why can't I stay?"

"You are technically a civilian, and this is a military undertaking."

"Don't worry Al. Just meet me back at Colonel Mustang's office at five o'clock." Al nodded and followed Hughes out from the grounds.

"Hey where's he going?" asked Parker as he pointed at Hughes. "Isn't he supposed to training us?"

"No, that's my job. Major Hughes is leaving in a little while. I'm Colonel Elric." Each of the new-recruits looked down at the diminutive state-alchemist, not saying a word until Parker again opened his mouth.

"You? You gotta be kidding. Ain't you kinda short?" he mouthed. Under normal circumstances, Edward would have exploded, screeching and hurling a barrage of insults and less than witty comebacks. But he relented, instead looking at him in a dead serious manner. John blinked. That was all the time Edward needed as he slid in and gut-punched the taller man, then shifted and grabbed his arm to throw him on the ground.

"Hey what the hell you little fuck?" shouted Joshua as he came up from behind and attempted to knock the daylights out of the lieutenant-colonel with a haymaker. Ed caught it easily and rolled in, elbowing the young man in the stomach and then throwing him over his hip. The two panted heavily as they lay in less than flattering positions, while Ed simply brushed himself off and stood facing the other recruits.

"Now, there's a reason beyond senseless violence for why I've done that." he joked. "I've done it to prove a point. Size does not matter if you have skill." Everyone took a step back. "My mission here is to train each and every one of you to become proficient in the alchemic arts, not as an offensive weapon, but as a defensive tool. You are volunteers in the home-guard state alchemist corps, and we must prepare for the worst." If all else failed, he had prepared the last part of his speech to appeal to their patriotic sentiments. "Are you willing to obey me so as to defend our homeland?"

"Yes sir!" they shouted without hesitation.

"Excellent. We'll begin by finding out just what exactly you know."

XXXXXXXX

Aaron Miller departed from his train car into a station filled with hundreds of soldiers. Him and his adjutant had been the last to leave the diplomatic mission. A flood of crisp black uniforms and jackboots surrounded him and Captain Abbas as they muscled their way out of the station. A newsboy waved papers in the air shouted "Extra, extra, read all about it! Amestris declares war along with Creta! Xing makes statement of support for our war effort!" Miller quickly dug through his pocket and retrieved a silver dime, handing it the boy in exchange for the communiqué.

"Well, I'll be. We're not alone in this conflict." Both he and his adjutant scanned the article. They shuffled off to the side as more troops boarded the train, and found themselves a bench where they read further.

AMESTRIS AND CRETA DECLARE WAR!

EMPEROR CEDRIC III REFUSES TO WITHDRAW FROM ISHBAL!

XING MAKES FORMAL ALLIANCE TO AID DRACHMAN WAR EFFORT!

"Mighty fine." commented Miller with a smile on his face as he shook the newspaper. "We're gonna' show those Amestrisian bastards a thing or two about who runs the show here."

"Amen sir." The two strolled out of the train station and into the street. Aaron flagged down a taxi that took them to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. They went inside where they were greeted by a tall, mustachioed man in a military uniform, Major General Winfield Taylor.

"Sir, it's good to see you again." said the Colonel as he shook the man's hand.

"The very same. How are you doing Captain Abbas?"

"Very good sir. It feels wonderful to be home again."

"Well, I'm glad you're both safe. We have some matters of business to attend to. Please follow me to my office." The did exactly that and followed the General to his office, where another man in uniform was there to greet them. There was something different about this man though. He wore the same uniform as an infantry officer, but the single silver star that signified his rank sat inside a red patch on his collar. This was significant of a specialist.

"Gentleman, I would like you to meet Brigadier General Aemon Scott. He's with the 3rd Army's Military Intelligence Corps." The two officers saluted and Scott did the same. "I'll let him take over."

"Thank you, sir. Gentleman, as you are aware of, the situation with Amestris has turned grim. The intelligence corps has already been swamped the past week trying to monitor Bradley's every move." Scott reached up and scratched his cheek. "If you would allow me to continue, you'll understand where I'm going. With Xing entering the war, we've formed a cooperative pact with their intelligence organization, and we need men to act as liaisons between us and them. We need men with diplomatic experience to help us with this." The two said nothing, apparently not thrilled at the prospect of more complicated work. "Of course, if you choose to accept this transfer, it means immediate promotions for the both of you." Suddenly, their eyes lit up.

Colonel Miller quickly spoke up. "I would have no hesitation in accepting your offer, sir. However, I will only do so if my adjutant is willing to accept as well." All eyes turned to Captain Abbas.

"Absolutley." he said.