A/N: Well, here we are again. My deepest apologies for yet another long break between chapters. Again, life and a bout of writer's block got in the way. I've already started chapter 8, so that should prevent such a long break next time. As always, I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading.

Chapter 7

A month had passed since Karla had arrived at Fort Briggs. It had simultaneously been the longest and shortest month of her life so far, and the fact that she was even still here baffled her. She had been sure that the fact that she never stood around and took anyone's shit would end up being the reason she was kicked out, but amazingly, it seemed as if no one seemed to care about that.

The captain had been putting her through rigorous training practically every day, and without protest she had gone, gone until her body was practically screaming at her whenever she moved. That seemed to be the case this morning, as she could feel her eyes well with those damned irritating tears just from moving her legs. Impatiently wiping them away, Karla slid out of her bunk, groaning at the stiffness in her limbs. God, and if she wasn't sure that Buccaneer would run her through his rounds yet again… She sighed at this thought, shaking her head as she pulled her hair up into its familiar bun. Perhaps she could avoid him today. Yes, that would be nice, wouldn't it? She knew she couldn't show weakness, though. If she did, that would be a definite ticket back to Central, and there was no way she would let that happen. So, despite her body's protests, Karla departed the barracks. If she couldn't avoid Buccaneer today, well… then that would be that.

As she walked down the halls of the fort, though, there seemed to be no sight of him. Well, isn't that odd? He was usually out waiting for her, so he could jump her with his newest insane training plan. Karla knew if she missed him, he'd make her go double-time. That most definitely was never fun.

Stopping the nearest soldier, she asked, "Where is Captain Buccaneer?"

The soldier peered at her with hard eyes for a moment before answering, "Last I saw, he was heading for the general's office."

Karla nodded, and she was off in that direction before the soldier could even question why. Some part of her questioned why she was even doing this, was she just planning to barge into Armstrong's office? Really? She supposed it was the more sensible bit of herself casting doubt into her mind, but for now, she was not listening.

She reached the office to find that the door was closed. Of course it was. Why wouldn't it be closed? The part of her that objected raised its voice even more at her, but she ignored it, instead taking a breath and knocking on the door.

"You may enter," came Olivier's voice, sounding harsh as always. Karla pushed open the door and stepped inside to see the major general seated at her desk. The captain and a man Karla had come to know as Major Miles were huddled on either side of the desk. Some sort of map was spread out before them, and from the look on Armstrong's face, the alchemist figured she must have interrupted something important.

"What do you want, alchemist?" Olivier demanded, her hands clasped in front of her.

Karla very nearly flinched at the officer's tone. Damn it, why could she still intimidate her like this? "I was looking for the captain, sir," she answered. "I was wanting to know what to expect for training—"

"Your training is over." Armstrong's words cut in decisively over hers. "He has informed me you have performed surprisingly well, and I can consider you one of my soldiers now."

Well, that was a relief. "Yes, sir. I'll be going now."

She turned to leave, but Buccaneer interrupted, "Not so fast, Red. You ain't done yet."

That caught her off guard, and she turned around to face them again. What could they possibly need her for?

"Look." Olivier gestured to the map on the desk as Karla drew closer to inspect it. "This is a map of the entire northern area. We've received word that Drachma is planning an attack again. I already have a feeling I know exactly where they'll go, but since you apparently know this region so well, why don't you tell me."

Karla stared down at the map in contemplation, scanning over it until she found one certain location. "There," she said, pointing at a dot nestled at the base of the mountain range border. "Virnikov. Drachma always attacks there, and my father's always told me it's because they are trying to reclaim it from Amestris."

The three officers looked down at the map as well, and it was a moment before anyone spoke. "It's complete unprotected?" Major Miles asked.

"Not exactly. The citizens have formed their own army called the Virnikov Defense Force, and my mother is the chief. They do their best, but the casualties tend to be numerous."

"Who the hell're your parents?" Buccaneer asked, seeming almost incredulous. Karla looked up at him, an eyebrow raised.

"My father is Drachman-born Ivan Chernikov and my mother is Amestrian-born Liesel Chernikova," she answered. "Why?"

"Ivan Chernikov… the assassin?" asked Miles. "He was deported for having illegal residence in Amestris, correct?"

Before Karla could answer, Olivier cut in with, "Chernikova's parentage is not the reason we're here. If you are correct, alchemist, I'll send a squad in for observation and assistance, if needed."

"I could lead it," said Karla without really thinking, her heart leaping at the prospect.

Armstrong stared her down, her blue eyes intense. "You aren't ready to lead any sort of squad. Additionally, I cannot afford to have any possible allegiances you already have jeopardize this mission. Major Miles will be in command of the squad."

"Yes, sir," said Miles. "I will gather some men, and we will depart immediately."

As Olivier relayed instructions to the officer, Karla felt like screaming. How could she deny her this chance? Sending complete strangers to her hometown was a terrible idea! How was she supposed to prove she deserved to be here if she was never given an opportunity to do so? This was ridiculous!

"Chernikova," Olivier suddenly said, breaking Karla out of her rage-fueled mental rampage, "you will be part of Captain Buccaneer's border patrol. We can't leave ourselves unprotected, after all. I don't know why Central sent you to me, but you're going to make yourself useful if you're going to be here."

Well. That was better than nothing. "Yes, sir," she answered, giving a small nod.

"Good. You're all dismissed."

She waited until she was out of the office and well away from it to let out a frustrated groan. "God damn it!" she growled, turning and punching the nearest wall. It sent pain throbbing through her arm, but at the moment, she didn't care.

"What'd the building do to you?" Buccaneer's voice sounded just then, and Karla looked over to see him striding towards her. She crossed her arms and sighed irritably, matching his pace as they continued down the hall.

"Well? Are you gonna talk or not, Red?"

Karla groaned again, her frustration climbing. "She's sending a squad to Virnikov without me!" she finally cried. "What the hell is she thinking? They won't know a damn thing about the place! The citizens aren't going to react well to this — why the hell are you laughing?"

Indeed, the captain was chuckling at her, sounding more amused than anything else. "Ah, Red, you get me every time," he said, a grin on his face. "You couldn't have thought she'd actually let you. You've only been a part of us for a month. That ain't enough time for anyone to build enough respect and confidence for that, much less you."

Damn it, as much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. "So, maybe I wasn't thinking when I said that, I admit. Either way… She should still give me a chance, god damn it!"

"You're going to get your chance," said Buccaneer, stopping and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "We all get to do something eventually. Just gotta wait for that time to come, you know?"

Karla scowled. "I do not enjoy waiting," she sighed. "I didn't come here to wait." And she hadn't. She'd waited a month already, and they still didn't trust her.

Buccaneer chuckled, then resumed walking. "You'll get it, Red. I know you will. Come on. You can at least help out with the patrol she gave us."

Several minutes later, they had gathered a patrol, and they were out in the cold of the snow. Karla was unflinching even as the wind blew, sending the smallest flakes flying. Her eyes were peeled as the soldiers spread out, and her attention was at its fullest. Nothing was getting past her. It was nothing but snow and mountains, as far as the eye could see, but still she kept full attention.

She ducked behind the first tree she came across, one hand gripping her knife tightly. She didn't know where the rest of her squad had gone, but that wasn't something she was concerned with at the moment.

As she stood, Karla could feel the wind biting through her uniform, chilling her to her core. She couldn't show weakness, though; it would make people think even less of her than they already did. Some part of her was telling her there was nothing there, that there was no way in hell anyone would be out here… but there was still that suspicion that there was someone, someone was out here, and they were probably hiding just like the Amestris patrol was. One wrong move and something's definitely going down, she thought.

The patrol spent some time like this. Whether it was minutes or hours Karla didn't know. All she knew was that it was cold, her breath came in visible puffs, and she was thoroughly enjoying the chill. There had been no sign of Drachma this entire time, and Karla sighed impatiently. "If you're going to come out, show your damn faces already," she muttered with a huff.

"Oi! Red!" The captain's voice faintly sounded over the howl of the wind just then. "Fall back! Let's go!"

Karla groaned, pushing herself off the tree she'd been leaning against. If Buccaneer was saying to fall back, then there really was no one out here except them. Great, she thought as she walked back towards his voice. That was time thoroughly wasted. Of course the first time out for her had to be completely uneventful. She walked against the wind, cursing her luck with each step she took.

When she rejoined the group, she scowled at Buccaneer. "You didn't see anything either?"

"None of us did," he answered. "I don't like it, but there ain't shit we can do about it. Let's go."

As Karla followed the patrol back to the fort, she couldn't help but feel an even greater suspicion rising up in her. The Drachmans were planning something. They had to be. Their absence didn't make sense to her otherwise. Just what could it possibly be? She didn't know enough about that aspect of Drachma. It was a good thing Olivier hadn't asked her how they planned, otherwise she'd be screwed. There was nothing she could do about them now, though. All she could do was wait.