The Gunslinger Alchemist (Fullmetal Alchemist Fanfiction)

Colonel Simon Carlyle continued to struggle in vain against the unconscious man. He simply didn't have the leverage to quickly move the man who was about twenty kilograms heavier than him. In a moment of weakness, he briefly considered using alchemy to lift the body. Carlyle could do it quite easily, he realized. All he had to do was transmute the carbon in the body into diffuse charcoal. He would be able to escape, though the process would obviously kill the man.

The unconscious man remained whole, and Carlyle decided to have mercy on the man. He refused to be the first person to escalate this fight into lethality. After more than six seconds of struggling, an eternity in hand-to-hand combat, Carlyle managed to push the body off, freeing himself from the grapple.

Immediately jumping up onto one knee, he raised his revolver and leveled it toward the ongoing sound of combat. Hotchkiss was still on his feet, and he had neutralized two of the remaining attackers with attacks from his saber. Though the Lieutenant had done relatively well in the fight, he was now unarmed. His saber had become stuck in one of the disabled attackers' shoulders, and he was forced to engage with the two remaining attackers with nothing but his fists.

Blood ran from the Lieutenant's mouth as he guarded against the merciless assault by the two remaining attackers. The two men were standing sideways to Carlyle, so any shot he landed on them would probably be fatal. These guys were way below his pay grade, so he once again decided to show mercy.

"Hey!" Carlyle shouted as he pulled back his revolver's hammer.

The two men turned toward his voice automatically, surprised that he had rejoined the fight. Not giving the men a chance to act, Carlyle pulled the trigger and shot one of the men in the shoulder. Sparks shot out of the man's wound, and he barely had enough time to shoot a horrified look at his comrade before he fell to the ground.

The final attacker was swiftly dispatched with a punch to the jaw from Hotchkiss. In his attempt to defend against Carlyle, he had completely forgotten about the man with whom he was currently engaged in a fist fight.

Once the final attacker was neutralized, Carlyle allowed his senses to spread out and capture the surrounding scene. Several dozen screaming passengers had coagulated at both ends of the train car, though their screams were barely audible over the ringing in his ears caused by the deafening blast of a gunshot in an enclosed area.

The passengers were trying to escape the train car, but the exits were so narrow that only one person could pass through at a time. In their frantic need to escape, some of the smaller passengers were being crushed by the heavy weight of bodies.

Making a quick judgment call, Carlyle decided that the train car was secure, and he returned his revolver to its holster.

"It's okay!" Carlyle called out. "We're safe for now."

The large crowd of people calmed significantly upon hearing Carlyle's statement. They began to disperse somewhat, allowing those caught in the crush of bodies to breathe. As the crowd dispersed, Carlyle saw as several people fell to the ground, gripping wounds they had sustained as a result of the fleeing crowd.

"Shit," Carlyle swore under his breath as he looked at the half dozen wounded people on the ground. He knew enough about medical alchemy to provide some clumsy first aid, but it would take several minutes to heal those people. If he stopped long enough to heal them, that would give Miriam and Erasmus more than enough time to surround him.

"Is anyone here a doctor!?" Carlyle asked the crowd of people, though he was not optimistic that he would get a favorable answer.

There was a general murmuring from the crowd in response. Just as Carlyle prepared himself to quickly perform surgery on seven people, he heard another a loud sigh come from a nearby private room.

"Damn it. Another vacation ruined by a State Alchemist."

The door opened, and an older man with glasses and lightly graying hair stepped out into the hallway. The man glared at the hallway filled with injured people, and his expression was filled with obvious disdain.

"I guess you could call me a doctor," the man said as he reached into a large messenger bag at his side and produced a handful of medical tools.

After a long pause, Carlyle recognized the man, and he had to stop himself from saluting. The man standing in front of him was Dr. Knox, the army surgeon. Carlyle didn't recognize the man immediately, since it had been seven years since they met last.

"You're Dr. Knox," Carlyle said, blinking.

"What, do I owe ya money or something? Get out of the way."

"No, we've, uh," Colonel Carlyle paused to clear his dry throat, "we've met before. "I was, uh, a private at the time."

Dr. Knox turned to look at Carlyle for a second, and a crack appeared in his facade of anger for less than a second before his expression returned to normal. It was clear to Carlyle that he was suddenly reminded of things that he would prefer to forget.

"Yeah, I remember," Dr. Knox said, scowling. "You're the kid that kept asking me stupid questions instead of actually guarding the hospital."

"I integrated your work into my alchemy, you know. I decided to specialize in medical alchemy because…"

"Aren't you in the middle of something?" Dr. Knox said as he knelt down next to one of the attackers that Hotchkiss had slashed with his saber.

"Right. When we get to West City, let's talk."

"Absolutely not," Dr. Knox grunted.

As he spoke, Hotchkiss turned to the man who he had stabbed in the shoulder with his sword and began to reach for the hilt.

"Don't pull the sword out unless you want him to bleed to death," Dr. Knox muttered, and the Lieutenant stopped in his tracks.

In response, Hotchkiss looked over at Carlyle who gestured for his subordinate to just let the issue drop. The two men began to walk forward in the train once more, and Carlyle transmuted a piece of the train's wall into a flat single-bladed cavalry saber. The sword had a simple design, and a bayonet guard was built into the hand guard so that it could be attached to a rifle if the wielder wanted.

Hotchkiss thought to comment on this strange design choice but kept his mouth shut. They would certainly engage once more with the enemy soon, and there would be plenty of time for him to question his superior's eccentricities in the future.