Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction / Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Gotta Knock a Little Harder ❯ Blasphemous Rumours ( Chapter 22 )

Notes: There is some “spoilage” in this chapter, mostly involving the conspiracy behind the Ishbal Rebellion. Consider yourselves warned on that one. Also, what might appear to be a spoiler, is just a mild case of exiting the cannon. There was never a lot of history about Mustang, nor how long he and Hughes knew each other. So for grins and giggles, I gave Mustang a little bit of history that goes back further than the series. If this kind of thing has been addressed in the manga, and I've got it wrong, by all means, let me know. -- Heathenesque

 

Blasphemous Rumours

 

I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours; But I think that god's got a sick sense of humor; And when I die I expect to find him laughing -- Depeche Mode (101)

 

Spike shot the craft up into the air as fast as it would go. It wasn't the Swordfish, but it flew better than the Hammerhead did.

 

He glanced in the mirror at his silent passenger. Mustang looked calm on the surface, but the grip he had on his straps told a different story. It gave Spike no small amount of satisfaction to know that the inscrutable Colonel was white-knuckled at the moment.

 

He'd kicked the heater on the craft up to high as he neared the edges of the atmosphere; he wanted that man's gloves nice and dry when they got to their destination. “I hope you don't mind,” he said. “But I thought I'd take a little short-cut.”

 

“Do you even know where you're going?” Mustang asked.

 

“I looked at the map too, remember?”

 

Mustang didn't respond. He just stared out the side as though lost in his own thoughts. A moment later, Spike heard him chuckle.

 

“Care to share the joke?”

 

“You really are a loose cannon,” Mustang said. “Do you even have a plan?”

 

Spike scowled, and said, “Why didn't you mention that your military was about to implode from the inside?”

 

A slight smile tugged at Mustang's lips.

 

[1.1.1.1]

 

Winrey balanced herself on Al's shoulder, as she tightened the bolt on the last of the Swordfish's engine parts. “That should do it.”

 

As Al set her back down on the deck, she caught sight of Ed launching himself up, and into the cockpit. “Ed?” She dashed to the side of the craft, and pulled herself up.

 

Ed was turning a large key in the ignition, trying to get the engines to turn over. They made a tired groaning sound, but didn't spark.

 

“Ed, what do you think you're doing?”

 

He grinned at her. A little too innocently, in her opinion. “Just making sure that everything runs right, Winrey.”

 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You're not thinking of trying to take off after Spike and the Colonel are you?”

 

Ed's grin grew wider, and Winrey knew he was lying. “Of course not! What a silly idea!”

 

Al had joined the couple on the other side of the craft, and said, “Brother, you don't know how to fly this thing.”

 

“I can too!”

 

The amusement in Al's voice rang clear, as he said, “You didn't fly it before, Brother. You just kept it from falling.”

 

“Hey! I'll have you know that I'm a natural,” Ed said, as he jerked a thumb at his chest.

 

Winrey chose that moment to reach in, and yanked the key out of the ignition. Ed spun on her. “What do you think you're doing?”

 

“You're not taking off, and that's final,” she said. She held the key just out of his reach.

 

“Give that back!”

 

She tilted her head, and gave him a mischievous smile. Then she dropped the key down the front of her shirt.

 

Ed's mouth dropped open, and he turned a deep shade of red. He fell back in the seat, and crossed his arms over his chest with an annoyed huff.

 

The silence between the three of them became deafening, as Ed stewed; and Winrey and Al just found the whole thing funny. The only thing that broke the complete and utter silence was the singing of crickets, and the dull slap of the river against the side of the Bebop. As she climbed down, Winrey heard what sounded like something being dropped on the deck. She turned, and gasped.

 

[2.2.2.2]

 

Ed tried to get himself under control. It was bad enough that several very interesting feelings went though him when Winrey dropped the key down her shirt. But it made him blush, and the fact that he blushed embarrassed him even more, making his blush even deeper. It had become a vicious cycle. It was really uncomfortable, and damned inconvenient.

 

This is Winrey, he thought. It's not some girl, after all. Okay, she is a girl, but not like that. We grew up together. Hell, we used to take baths together. Of course, we haven't done that in years, but still-- And that was when he heard her gasp.

 

He looked down at her, then leaned out of the cockpit to look back at where she was staring. His eyes went wide, and he suddenly forgot how to breathe; or maybe he was afraid to breathe, he wasn't sure which.

 

[3.3.3.3]

 

Jet struck his lighter, and illuminated the mouth of the small cavern. He kept one eye at the entrance, as Hughes felt around in a deep niche and came out with a couple of candles and holders.

 

“So,” Jet said, as the other man held the wicks to his flame. “How do you know this place so well?”

 

Hughes smiled a little. “This is Mustang's ancestral land. We used to spend summers here.” He handed one candle to Jet, and held up his own, illuminating the low ceiling. “Of course, I remember the ceiling being quite a bit higher than this, back then.”

 

He jerked his head to the deeper interior. “This way.” And they wove their way into the bowels of the cavern. Hughes brought up the front, and Jet the rear, keeping Sheska between them.

 

As they walked, Jet couldn't help but notice that there was occasional graffiti etched into the walls. He paid little attention to it, as he passed it by. Most of it was childish scrawls, or declarations of love. But deep within the cavern, one brought him up short. The words gave him a chill.

 

We were following orders. May God forgive us. -1457

 

Hughes stopped and looked back. His expression was grim. “Our country has a long, violent history, Jet. A lot of rebellions; and not all of them started by the civilians.”

 

[4.4.4.4]

 

“So what did Havoc tell you about the Ishbal Rebellion?” Mustang asked.

 

Spike glanced in the mirror at the Colonel. The look was impassive, emotionless. And it irritated Spike enormously. “Havoc didn't tell me that much. Just that you people invaded a tribe who didn't have any advanced weapons or use Alchemy, and damn near wiped them out.”

 

Mustang nodded. “It started as a small rebellion, but it escalated. After it went on for about seven years, the State Alchemists were called in. We were supposed to be `The Problem Solvers'.” Mustang looked out the bubble of the cockpit. “We were supposed to quell the rebellion once and for all, and stabilize the region.”

 

“Those people were sacrificed to make the Philosopher's Stone,” Spike said.

 

Mustang's head snapped around, and Spike caught a hint of shock, before his carefully created mask came back down. After a moment, he nodded. “Whether fortunately, or unfortunately, it didn't work.”

 

[5.5.5.5]

 

Hughes started back through the cavern, and said, “About 450 years ago, there was a rebellion on this very parcel of land. Villagers; people accused of being insurgents hid out in these caverns.” He glanced back. “Unfortunately, it became their grave.”

 

To Jet, it sounded like a common history. People were violent, and would fight over the smallest things. He considered his own time and universe, and thought about the gangs that had most of the power in his own system.

 

Does it ever really change? He wondered, as he left the declaration in the darkness to keep up with Hughes.

 

“It was a missing part of the history of Amestris,” Hughes continued on. “No one talked about it. The kids didn't learn about it in history class.” He stopped at a fork in the caverns, and gestured with his candle off in one direction. “Roy and I discovered their skeletons over that way. Hundreds of them. They were piled on top of each other, as if they had been backed into there, and slaughtered all at once.”

 

Jet's brows shot up. He could only imagine how that affected a couple of kids.

 

“That was when Roy decided he was going to become a State Alchemist. He wanted to know why.”

 

Hughes jerked his head toward the other fork, and led them off in that direction. “The records he could find were spotty, at best. Mostly legends about the Philosopher's Stone.”

 

“The stone Ed and Al are looking for,” Jet said.

 

Hughes nodded, and glanced back. “Even during the Ishbal Rebellion, most people didn't believe the Philosopher's Stone was anything more than legend; although research was being done on making one. One Alchemist, a Dr. Marcoh, had come up with a formula that created something like that. But it was still raw, and experimental.”

 

He stopped, and glanced down at Sheska. “You didn't hear any of this, right?”

 

She nodded. “Not a word, Sir.”

 

He smiled then looked back at Jet. His face became stone, and his eyes were hard. “Whatever you hear about the Ishbal Rebellion, know this; it was no rebellion. It was a massacre. Good soldiers did some terrible things. They were told lies; and that's why they followed those orders. They believed they were doing the right thing.

 

“Roy was right in the middle of it. He carries a lot of guilt. Especially now; with the information that's starting to come out. He made a vow after that mess was over with to make his way up the ranks, so that he could have the power, and prevent this from happening again.”

 

“I gotta tell you, Hughes,” Jet said. “If I hadn't seen what that kid could do, I'd think you were all fruitier than a nutcake. Alchemy; the Philosopher's Stone? They sound like something out of a dark fairy tale to me.”

 

“The Philosopher's Stone is real. Marcoh's research bears this out. Those people back there, and the people of Ishbal were sacrificed in order to create it.”

 

Jet felt the blood drain from his face, and he stopped dead in his tracks. “They didn't succeed, did they?”

 

Hughes glanced back at Jet, and he shook his head.

 

[6.6.6.6]

 

Ed bounded out of the Swordfish, and to the still form lying on the deck, Winrey and Al were hot on his heels.

 

“Is it Brianne?” Winrey asked.

 

“I'm certain of it,” Ed said as he fell to his knees next to the body, and rolled her over to see her face. One side of her face was tattooed with some kind of pattern he'd not seen before, and her long bangs had become streaked with white, but there was no mistaking that face.

 

She moaned softly, and opened her eyes. They rolled a moment, out of focus.

 

“Brianne?” Ed asked. “Are you hurt?”

 

She focused on him, blinked a few times, and gasped. “Ed!”

 

He smiled and said, “Welcome back.”

 

She grasped his shirtfront, and her eyes went wide. “Jet? Where's Jet?”

 

Ed tried to pry her fingers loose, and said, “They'll both be back in a little while.”

 

“Then he and Spike are both…”

 

“Just fine.”

 

“How long was I gone?”

 

Ed finally gave up trying to get her to let go, and said, “Just a couple of days.”

 

She grinned, and wrapped her arms around his neck in a very enthusiastic hug.

 

“Gah!” Ed felt like he was being mauled, and tried desperately to extricate himself.

 

[7.7.7.7]

 

“You bastard,” Spike said low. “You intend to use our technology to kill larger numbers of people, don't you? Will a bigger sacrifice make a stronger Philosopher's Stone?”

 

Mustang was nonplussed. “That's the theory.”

 

Spike's eye started to twitch, and his teeth began to grind. “If I didn't need you right now, you son of a bitch—“

 

“Your opinions about my questionable parentage aside,” Mustang said. A glint of humor sparked in his dark eyes. “That is exactly what I intend to prevent.”

 

“You might be able to fool your lackeys, but not me.”

 

Mustang nodded. “As you wish.” He returned to staring out of the craft in silence.

 

[8.8.8.8]

 

Ed finally managed to get himself free from McKenna's grip, and helped her to her feet. At that moment, several sets of boot steps on the dock got his attention.

 

The four of them turned as a group, and looked at what could be causing all the commotion. Every single soldier who'd found their way to Aunt Pinako's recently were swarming the Bebop, their weapons drawn.

 

“What the hell?” Confusion knitted Ed's brow, as Armstrong and Hawkeye both arrived at the forefront of the group.

 

Hawkeye took aim at McKenna, and Ed got in between them. “Wait a minute, Lieutenant!”

 

Armstrong said, “Lieutenant Hawkeye that is McKenna. She's a friend of Spike's and Jet's.”

 

Hawkeye lowered her weapon. Armstrong nodded, and faced the confused group in front of him. “I must apologize, but you are being taken into protective custody until Jet, Spike and Colonel Mustang return.”

 

Ed's brows shot up. He heard shocked sounds from Winrey and Al behind him. As the soldiers took up positions around the ship, he saw Aunt Pinako squeeze between Armstrong and Hawkeye. She looked thoroughly disgusted, but resigned, as she shrugged.

 

“Let's hope those boys get back soon, and we can put this ridiculousness behind us.”

 

Armstrong gestured to the entrance of the bay, and said, “I suggest we go inside. It will be easier to protect you in there.”

 

[9.9.9.9]

 

“With everything your people can do,” Jet said. “It doesn't seem to make a lot of sense that anyone would really be all that interested in our technology.”

 

Hughes glanced back. “Not all of us are able to do Alchemy. And besides, if it's a new way to kill mass numbers of people, the military is going to be interested. I'm sure it's the same in your world.”

 

Jet read more on Hughes' face, than what his words said. The implications hit him like a lead weight in the gut. Kill mass numbers of people, he thought. Would the military sacrifice the population of another country, or even the planet to make a more powerful stone?

 

He felt another chill go through him, and he stared at Hughes. Not a word passed between them, but they understood each other perfectly. Hughes nodded slightly, and blew out his candle. Jet followed suit. They'd reached the end of the cavern.

 

Unlike the place they'd come in at, this part of the cavern was on the surface, rather than in a hole. It was just a matter of walking out, and sneaking up to the Hammerhead.

 

The sound of several guns being aimed at them, made Jet realized that once again, things were never as simple as they appeared on the surface.