June 1st, 1963

Sara ignored the anxious fluttering in her stomach as she walked out of the "war-room" tent. In the distance she could hear the engagement of Drachma shooting at the walls of the city, and the counter-argument of alchemical transmutation. There was so much alchemy flying lately she could almost feel it electrifying the air. It was so strange, especially compared to the Aerugo War. Using alchemy in combat didn't feel wrong, but it definitely felt strange on such a massive scale.

"Sara, wait up!"

She paused and turned, smiling as Franz caught up with her in several long strides. No longer forced to be official, she turned and hugged him tightly for a moment before they both began walking towards the barracks tents. "Do you think this will work?"

Franz looked thoughtful for a moment, but nodded without hesitation. "I think so. Right now the Drachmans are already engaged on two fronts, and they've been trying to crack North City for a while now with no luck. I think General Breda's right; if we reoccupy the city now and make a strong push, they'll have to give up on taking North City and the train depot."

Sara nodded. That was her thought on the matter as well. "I'm glad the reinforcements from Southern Headquarters finally arrived. They'll give us the edge we need to really do this." The majority of Southern Headquarters' active soldiers had arrived just a few days before, along with a couple more late-coming alchemist units; less experienced alchemists that had been given a little more time to train before coming to the front.

"Be careful out there," Franz replied, looking worried.

Sara couldn't help smiling as she slipped her arm around his waist. "I always am," she pointed out. "Besides, the Drachmans haven't been anywhere near as inventive as the Aerugeans were; and even less than we were when we had to go in there. They've been utterly predictable and General Breda's going to have them dancing along to his tune by the end of tomorrow, just you wait and see."

"You have a lot of confidence," Franz chuckled, his own arm going tightly around her shoulders.

"Amestris has never lost in my lifetime," Sara pointed out. "Nor even before that under Fuhrer Bradley, however much trouble he caused and how dubious his reasons. We're a military state, in mindset even though it's no longer the reality. So long fighting, it's what we know how to do to keep our home in peace. Attacking a state with such a strong military seems to me about the most foolish thing anyone could do. Even more because we have alchemists!"

"Humble ones too," Franz teased.

Sara elbowed him in the side. "No other country in history has ever fielded an army of trained alchemists, Franz. You've seen what we can do. The Cretans might have long ago back into their mythology, but they have almost no alchemists now. The Aerugeans have few, and those mostly self-trained if they've survived. Drachma fears them; whatever their current agreement. The average Drachman doesn't trust alchemists going back for generations. In Xing they focus on using alchemy for healing, for creating medicines and helpful purposes. Perhaps they have the best choice among them all. But we're unique here. Amestris has the widest variety of trained alchemists; and yet we all have common combative training that makes us useful in a combat situation even for the alchemists who aren't natural fighters. They won't break out of fear, panic, or make a situation worse."

"Hey, I'm not the one that needs convincing." Franz squeezed her tighter. "I'm the one who saw a fourteen year old girl shoot ballistics out of the air with the air and light itself, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." Sara felt a fond twinge of nostalgia. Even war had been simpler when she was a kid. "So, are you off for the rest of the day?" She could hope; they hardly got to spend any time together, even sharing the same tent in the same war zone. It was rare for them both to even get to sleep more than a couple of hours together in the same bed.

"I wish," Franz sighed regretfully. "This is my first break today, but General Breda's got meetings and sessions for the next four hours and then an inspection where he wants me to keep the details recorded for him."

"No rest for the literate with neat handwriting, huh?" Sara quipped. "Well, does that break include enough time to grab a cup of coffee or do I only have time to drag you into the tent and make out?" No break would be long enough for anything more.

"While I like the second option a lot, I think I might have time to finish a cup of coffee…if I don't mind burning my tongue," Franz replied. "What about you?"

Sara sighed. "Actually I have to report to Kane in half an hour for our unit strategy meeting and then after that for one that includes all of the alchemists involved in tomorrow's offensive."

"I thought as much." Franz steered her towards the nearest mess tent. There were several to accommodate multiple divisions. This one wasn't the one the alchemists usually used, but it was the closest. "Let's get a drink then and pretend for a couple of minutes we don't have to be elsewhere doing the jobs we love so much."

"I like that idea." Sara was grateful to have Franz along on this war. Somehow, she felt more connected with the world. Perhaps that was also because they were still on home soil. Aerugo had been so strange to her. "We need to remember to write another letter home tonight."

Franz looked guilty. "If you get it started before I get back, I'll add my part on to the end." They tried to write to the kids every few days. Sara had carefully tucked the letters they got from Trisha and James into a book to keep them smooth. Trisha's loopy scrawl was easy to read and filled pages with everything they were up to.
James couldn't really write yet except a few works and to sign his name; but he did that on every letter.

"Good," Sara tried not to choke up thinking about the kids. She and Franz were fine; nothing was going to break apart their family. Especially not the invading Drachmans. "They'll be glad to get it."

"They'll be happier to see us when we get home," Franz commented softly.

"I know," Sara replied as they both paused. She leaned her head briefly against his shoulder. "Which is why we have no choice but to succeed."

June 2nd, 1963

While the re-taking of North City was not what Edward would have called a rout of the Drachmans, it definitely went as smoothly as Breda had devised. A rare occurrence when it came to military actions. At first light, the Amestrians began an all-out bombardment, pushing hard and advancing to shove the Drachmans back around the outside of the walled city. As they did so, the military hospital, bureaucracy, and anyone else not immediately involved in the fighting, moved back inside and set up in their previous locations, taking in the injured as they could be brought.

It went so smoothly, Edward guessed – not without some modesty – because of the strong presence of the State Alchemists. The Drachmans were simply over-powered; their alchemists included. "You'd think they'd try something new," he commented to Breda later as they sat in the reoccupied war room in the bottom floor of the office building they had used previously.

"They're even less creative and more set in their tactics than I realized," Breda admitted.

"Which worked in our favor," Falman commented as he bit into one of the sandwiches that had been on a large platter brought in earlier from the mess hall. The tray was almost empty now. "We have a new established line well beyond the city wall. I'd say that's quite the accomplishment."

"It's amazing how fast the engineers were able to get that up," Breda agreed.

"Not so amazing," Kane grinned smugly. A good number of alchemists had been involved in working with the engineering corps to erect a wall even as the Amestrians pushed the Drachmans back; giving the Amestrians a fall-back point that was solid stone and metal and almost proof against any of the alchemical attacks the Drachman Alchemists had proven capable of using here so far. The grin faded after a moment. "I'd have been happier with fewer losses though."

Edward ignored the knot in his throat and sat still, chewing on a bite of his own sandwich while Winry worked on dislodging a small rock from his arm that had ricocheted into it during the fighting. Other than that, Ed had come out with just a few scrapes and bruises. But other alchemists hadn't been so lucky. They had lost four on the walls, bringing the total number of lost alchemists to ten. Not bad as a whole, but given it was not-quite ten percent of their alchemical forces, it was a grim number.

"We'd all be happier with that." Breda finished a sandwich. "What's the report on injuries and losses in relocating back into the city?"

Feury flipped to another page of numbers. "Twenty casualties, nearly three hundred wounded, Sir. Over all, low numbers."

Really, that wasn't bad given the thousands of soldiers, doctors, and the few remaining civilians in the city that were involved. There were still already hundreds dead; though Ed would have estimated Drachman losses into the low thousands already. It had to be twice what the Amestrians were losing, and yet they kept coming.

"Let's keep them low," Ed finally commented.

"For now, let's keep the Drachmans back," Breda added. "I'd like to see if we can turn this success into the first step in pushing the Drachmans into further retreat instead of letting them re-entrench here." That would be tough, but it was what they would have to do eventually to get Drachma out. That, or beat them so soundly Drachma surrendered and retreated on their own. The chances of that happening seemed laughably low. Word from Intelligence was that the Drachman papers were claiming they were soundly defeating the Amestrians.

When the meeting broke up, Ed approached Kane as Winry packed up her auto-mail kit to follow. "What's the real final word on the alchemists?" He might not be in command, but Ed found himself wanting to know the fate of every individual alchemists fighting on the battlefield. For several reasons, he felt responsible for their being there.

Kane sighed, smiling wryly. "I knew you'd ask that." He quickly rattled off the injuries in the other units as well as the names of the four alchemists lost; three of them had been State Alchemists, and another one of the recruits. "On my end, Firebrand was protecting the hospital while they moved and didn't receive any further injuries. Will's going to have a nasty bruise on his right shoulder for a bit from getting near-trampled at one point during the push. Sara's got a graze-wound to the calf but it's more of a nick than a shot. It didn't even need stitches."

Ed let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "That's good. Any word on Aldon?" His son had been out there, putting up that wall. There were days Edward hated not being the end of the information chain.

"Sara found him when we got back in," Kane smiled patiently. "Exhausted like the rest of them but unharmed."

"Thank goodness," Winry smiled, clearly relieved, as she joined them. She had been with the hospital helping move and tend the injured the whole time. "We should go find him. Surely they'll be off duty tonight."

"If they aren't, I'll have the head of their commanding officer," Ed snickered. "Thanks, Marcus."

"No problem," Kane shrugged. "You're the only unit that came through without a single injury. As long as you keep putting in performances like today the least I can do is keep you informed."

"So this is performance based now?" Ed arched one eyebrow skeptically. Not that he meant it. Kane was kidding him.

"Of course," Kane nodded seriously. Then he smiled tiredly. "Let's all get some rest. Somehow, I don't think Drachma will be doing much shooting at us tomorrow."

June 5th, 1963

"Hey, what's that?" Tore rolled over on his barracks bunk and looked at Cal, who currently occupied the bunk below in their tiny room. Cal had a letter in his hands and seemed completely absorbed in it. "Who's it from?" So far Cal hadn't received a single letter that Tore was aware of. If he had to guess, it was probably from one of the dozens of girls out there who had the pleasure of Cal's company, even if he never got serious with any of them.

"None of your business," Cal replied flatly. He immediately began to fold the letter up and tuck it into his pocket.

"No fair!" Tore vaulted off the edge of the bunk onto the floor and reached out to snatch the letter. "I haven't gotten a letter in two weeks and I told you what was in mine!" Well, most of it. He'd actually received a couple of letters; usually from Gracia Hughes – odd as that seemed he was grateful that someone sent him news of Central – and a couple from Charisa. Those were strictly full of friendly concern and the occasional story of what their friends were up to. Several of them were now in basic-training as enlisted to come fight in the war. Tore wished them the best and hoped they made it through alive. "I know!" He grinned wickedly as he almost caught the edge. "It's from Alyse isn't it?"

The momentary loss of calm was all it took for Tore to verify. "Oh wow…it is!" He had been half joking until he saw Cal's face! "What does she say? Oh come on, man!" It was probably something perfectly friendly, not unlike the ones he got from Charisa. But if it was…why was Cal so recalcitrant?

Cal glared at him. "I don't care who your foster family is, you don't get to pry into my business just because you know the girl involved."

"Fine, I'll pry because I'm your buddy, in your unit, and we've got nothing better to do with the three days of quiet we've had around here save for drills." Ever since retaking the city, the alchemists had been given a reprieve. They weren't technically off-duty, but other than meetings and some practice to keep limber, they'd had a decent amount of time to themselves. Tore had been surprised – but not unhappy – to find that Angela hadn't tried to flee the city.

"Oh, geez, you're such a pain." Cal sat up, making sure the note was stuffed tightly into his shirt pocket. "Yes, it's from Alyse. She says hi, asks how I'm doing, and hopes I'll write back. There, you happy?"

Tore grinned, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the wall. "Well you're sure uptight for revealing something as uninteresting as a friendly concern letter. I bet there's more than that."

"Nope, nothing," Cal shook his head firmly. "And unless you feel like getting into a duel and getting us both in trouble you'll just have to deal with it."

"Fine," Tore relented. "Is this the first time she's written?"

Cal looked slightly uncomfortable again, and Tore knew he'd struck gold. He was going to have to see if maybe Will or Ethan knew about this!

"No, not the first." But that was all Cal seemed inclined to say on the subject.

Tore had just opened his mouth to say something else when the door slammed open and bounced against the wall. "What the-?" He turned and saw Kieleigh panting in the door way. "Get moving guys!" She didn't wait for them to even acknowledge her. "Emerald wants us now!"

"So much for nothing to do," Cal snickered as he stood up.

Tore and Cal followed Kieleigh down to the small meeting room that was used alternately by various commanders. They weren't the only unit summoned however. Tore was surprised to see Fullmetal and his alchemists as well. "So what's going on," he asked as the door closed behind him?

It was Fullmetal who spoke. "We've received information that the Drachmans have a third division of their military strength coming down from the border," he informed them grimly. "Only they're pushing southward into the north-western territory."

Tore felt an icy tingle in his spine. He knew that area pretty well. He'd spent most of his time wandering up in that direction. "How far out are they?" He blurted the question without thinking about propriety or rank. Not that he cared at the moment.

"They've got a couple of weeks of road marching under them," Fullmetal grimaced. "General Breda wants all of us on a train to Larendon first thing in the morning. The last Western Command troops are being diverted up there now instead of meeting us here. We'll be sending a division west as well, but they can't all fit on a train tomorrow. We'll be marching north from there until we meet up with the Drachman line" It would take several days to get everyone moved. "Once we're there, we hold them. They've already passed through several small towns out there."
Larendon; Tore knew the town. He had a friend there.

"You all have the night off other than packing," the Emerald Alchemist spoke up then, looking around the room. "Report to the station at oh-eight-hundred hours tomorrow or there'll be hell to pay."

"Yes Ma'am."

Once final instructions were given they were dismissed. "Damned Drachmans," Tore cursed quietly as they walked back down the hall and out across the street back to the barracks. "How many of them are there?" When he got no response from Cal he glanced up, startled to see his friend's face had gone ghost white. "Something wrong, Fischer?"

Cal stopped moving for a moment. "My mother lives in Koldspur."

Now Tore understood. He hadn't been there, but the town was only about two days by train north of Larendon; several towns though. Tore had been all the way up nearly to Porto. Koldspur would have been next if he'd gotten that far. He didn't have time to respond though as Cal spun on heel and headed the other way. "Damn it…where you are going?"

"To find a phone!" Cal shouted back. "I've got to call her!"

Tore stood, stunned, for several moments after Cal vanished from sight. His memories of being that far north weren't fond ones. Porto was the town outside which he had been found half-dead after trying to save that girl, Missy, from that gang. What had the girl who'd found him been named again? Lainie? She was cute; he remembered that much. He was grateful Anita and her family had lived far enough south and east they probably wouldn't be directly affected.

Tore continued back to the room to pack, wondering if Angela was available tonight – she almost always was if he was – and, for a moment, if Lilah was all right. He hadn't thought about her much, but now, going back there, he hoped she was okay.

"I'm going to miss you," Winry said softly as she cuddled in Edward's arms, her own wrapped around his chest as they snuggled in bed. It was nice to be back in a real building with a real bed. Even in the summer the northern part of Amestris was chilly. It was just too bad the reprieve couldn't last longer. She had known, of course, that eventually they might well be separated, even up here, for part or all of the war. Now it looked like that time had come.

"As much as I'll miss you I'm sure," Ed replied with that surprisingly gentle tone he only used when they were alone, or he was feeling particularly emotional.

Winry snuggled closer against his warm, solid form. The firm muscles under her hands were reassuring as well as attractive. "You'd better take care of yourself while you're out there," she scolded gently. "Every time I let you out of my sight you seem to need extra care when you get back."

"Of course," Ed chuckled. "Otherwise what would you have to do?"

"Because I'm never busy, right." Winry smiled drowsily. Her stomach had been knotted with worry ever since Ed gave her the news earlier that afternoon. The relative safety of North City's walls no longer felt like much of a haven. The family would be split again. Only Al had gone East. Now only Ed was going West. Well and Tore too; at least for now. At least all of her children were still stationed in North City. Well, all of her birth children. "Take care of Tore."

"As much as I can," Ed promised, kissing her cheek. "Lyssandra says he's pretty good at keeping an eye out for himself as well as the rest of the unit. He and Fischer make a pretty good team. I'm not too worried about hm."

"Too?" Winry smiled knowingly. No matter the rough spots, Ed was still fond of the boy. Tore finally seemed to have accepted the offer that he was part of the family, blood relative or not.

"Well of course I worry some," Ed snickered. "He's almost arrogant enough to get his mouth shot off for saying the wrong thing in Drachman."

Winry just shook her head and closed her eyes. She was tired. It was late, and there were no short, simple days anymore. Auto-mail meant for the north was made of slightly softer metals than the rest; things that wouldn't become brittle in the cold. That meant they needed repairs more often; especially the minor ones. "Well then, I should be even more concerned about you."

"Nah," Ed chuckled quietly and Winry heard the lamp click off. Ed shifted again and she could feel his breath on her cheek. "You've got me too well trained. You know military dogs; we always come back willingly to the woman holding the leash."

"If you wag your tail at me Ed, I'll make sure you never forget it." She was tired, but she didn't want to let him go either. Sleep was time wasted instead of spent together.

She felt Ed's leg brush against hers. "If that's a promise, then I'll take you up on it."

June 6th, 1963

Morning came far too soon. Tore grimaced as surprisingly bright rays of sun came in through Angela's east-facing window and splashed unceremoniously in his face. He groaned and glanced over at the clock. He had an hour to make the train.

Angela rolled over, her eyes brightly alert, a sorry expression on her face. "I guess you need to go don't you? I'm going to miss you, you know."

"I'll miss you too," Tore smiled at her. Last night had definitely been one of their best. He'd passed out exhausted by the time they were finished. "So, if I'm back through here again can I … stop by?" He certainly hoped so. They were good together. Even the conversation was good.

"If I'm available," she smiled. "Let's not make this complicated Tore. It's just for fun after all. Besides," she chuckled, "I think an awful lot of girls are going to be after you."

"That wouldn't be new," Tore admitted with a grin.

"Well then they won't be disappointed. You're so easy to please, and I know guys in their late twenties who don't have this kind of definition." Her hand ran lightly down his chest and abdominal muscles. "You're such a giving lover."

"Thanks, Angela." It felt a little awkward, but he shook it off. That was all they had been after. He shouldn't feel bad for going off and doing his duty. Besides, she was right. He liked her a lot, but it wasn't love. He could die in the next engagement. Getting attached wouldn't do either of them any good. Regretfully, Tore sat up away from her and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I hope you won't mind if I hope you're available then." He reached for his pants and began to drag them on.

"Not at all," she smiled easily. "I know I wouldn't mind if it happened."

Tore stood as he got his socks and boots on and went to reach for his shirt. He had brought his uniform and bag so he wouldn't have to go back to the barracks before heading to the train. "I'm glad." He turned and smiled at her. She hadn't gotten up, so clearly she didn't plan to see him off. This was goodbye. "Be safe, Angela, and thanks. You're great."

She looked momentarily flustered, but then it was gone as she smiled back. "Thanks. So are you."