A/N: Wow, it's been a REAL long time, hasn't it? Sorry, I've been having a case of severe writer's block, and this was compounded by school starting back up. But here I am with another installment. Please review, it'll help me with this writer's block.
Oh, and this is kind of cheap, but it's free advertising so here it goes: a few friends and I are going to be having a youtube show coming out in about a month from now. It's basically going to be a show where we take the newest wrestling game, create characters out of our favorite media, and have them involved in matches and storylines with each other. It's a hell of a lot of fun! It's sort of like a mega interactive fanfic, and yes Gundam fans, Heero, Relena, and Zechs are all going to be in it. If you like my various stories, I'm sure you will like the show my friends and I will be making. I'll post our show's website at the end of this chapter. Please send me a message or sign the guestbook and let me know what you think. Ok, sorry for the rambling.
February 2nd, 1780, Virginia
Duo had just finished reading the latest letter from Hilde. The sentiment was not unusual. Duo was sure that all of the other army wives across the continent were asking the same question. She was wondering when Duo would come home. Duo pondered the same thing as well.
The stalemate continued to grip the American continent. The Americans continued to have no major action while it looked like the British were gearing up for something big that year. In the microcosm that was their situation in Virginia, the White Fang had regrouped since the offensive in November, and were continuing their operations at levels that were gradually increasing back to those before the Gundams had been sent to there. They had made a difference in November, but the White Fang was still very much more alive than dead, and were striking back with a vengeance. There was no end in sight.
Duo sighed and blew some hair out of his eyes, the smoke of his breath clearly visible in the cold of winter.
"Everything all right?"
Duo looked up into the one visible eye of Trowa.
"As good as can be right now, sir."
"But, something's wrong." Trowa said as if he read the sharpshooter's mind.
"Ah, just got another letter from my wife, wondering when I'm gonna be home"
"It seems everyone is wondering that same question." Trowa agreed.
"Yeah, sometimes it makes you wonder why you're even fighting…" Duo put forth.
"Do you not believe in our cause anymore?" Trowa asked, surprised.
"In 1775, yeah. Now, it's harder. How am I free if I can't even be there to care for my wife?"
"Good point, I have to go check up on the others. Good luck with everything."
Duo saluted and watched the captain continue his round of inspection. Trowa was troubled; even the faithful Duo Maxwell's spirit was beginning to wane. This stalemate could not last for long; something would have to happen, and soon.
"How are the men?" Heero asked without looking when Trowa entered the CO's quarters.
"Their spirits are waning from the inaction, not only here, but around the continent. I think if Washington were doing more than just camping in front of New York, our own men would think more highly of themselves."
"Speaking of him." Heero put in. "He sent me a letter asking for our status updates and continues to urge us to go after the White Fang."
"It would help if he was actually down here and knew we had no leads, not to mention the weather."
"What else is he gonna do, say to sit on our asses all winter?"
"Guess not. I bet you wish we could have gotten you know who in November, I'm sure that would have made you feel better." Trowa smirked.
"Hn. He's a bitch. He more than proved that at our battle in November, and then he rejects my challenges"
Heero had twice challenged James Greer to a duel, but the young planter declined on both occasions, citing that Heero was socially 'beneath him.'(1) Although Heero's net worth was more than that of Greer's, his decision was based on his aristocratic ancestors as compared with Heero's mercantile roots.
Quatre walked in then.
"Hey, everything going all right with your men?"
"As good as can be, what about yours?" Trowa asked.
"It's been a couple of years, but I still don't think they're quite used to this snow." Quatre laughed. "Still, they are growing somewhat impatient; we haven't seen action against the White Fang for months."
"We'll have to ride out the storm." Heero replied. "We strike when we get an opportunity. We ride out the despair and uncertainty until that time comes. We've been doing it for years, and I don't plan on stopping now."
Quatre smiled. "We have been pretty resilient." He agreed. "I just hope we get a break soon."
Heero and Trowa nodded in agreement.
February 5th, 1780, Virginia
Quinze looked over his troops. The White Fang had regrouped quite nicely and were ready for their next attack. The White Fang commander walked over to James Greer.
"Is everything in order?"
"As good as it can be." He replied. "I'll branch off and cause as much chaos as possible after this. We shouldn't all be in the same area, or we will be vulnerable."
"Right…just stay orderly."
"I'll do what I do, Quinze. You just watch your back."
"Yes, you just try not to run away again." Quinze grinned.
James scoffed at the old man as he walked to his horse and signaled his men to follow him. Quinze signaled his own men to scatter into the trees. They made their way through the woods and foliage for hours on end, all the way until nightfall. After resting his men for an hour or so, Quinze signaled for them to get up and march again. They waited patiently until they heard the sound of horses. That signaled that the attack upon their target town had started.
Quinze and his men could see James and their other allies in the distance, firing off their pistols and throwing torches at buildings. The whole thing happened so fast that the residents of the town they were attacking did not know what hit them.
The whole town was set ablaze- the light from the flames was so bright that it outshined the moon.
"Let's go men!" Quinze signaled with his arm and brought his musket up to his shoulder.
James saw faint movement coming out of the woods. He fired his pistol at the mass of the town's militia that was attempting to assemble and rode off, followed closely by Alexander and Theodore, and then the rest of the men with him. They rode out of musket range, causing those that assembled to chase after them.
Quinze and his men ran up behind the assembled militia and fired a volley into their backs.
"Rally men! Turn around!" James called out once he saw the flashes from Quinze's men firing their muskets out of the corner of his eye.
The mounted White Fang militiamen turned around in an arc, and then the sound of thunder swept toward what town defenders were remaining. They quickly fled for their lives.
James slowed down to a canter and then halted his horse in front of Quinze.
"Seize what you think you'll need, then, we'll branch off from here." Quinze stated. "We'll hit this state from all sides as fast as fire in the sky."
"Whatever." James said as if he didn't care.
"You just keep your head on our cause and leave that damn Peacecraft girl alone." He said in a tone of warning.
"My money, I do what I please." James instantly retorted.
Quinze frowned at the young man as he rode on to retrieve his supplies. After watching him for a few more seconds, Quinze rejoined his own men to decide on the goods that he himself needed.
February 7th, 1780, Virginia
Trowa walked in and dropped a newspaper on Heero's desk.
"They struck again." Trowa replied in monotone.
Heero growled to himself as he read the reports. The White Fang had struck and decimated yet another frontier town, this one further north than the area where their activities were usually reported. The White Fang was on the move again, and if they scored an attack like that, they seemed to be well-prepared for the next phase of the war.
"We're also hearing reports about sporadic guerilla attacks spreading throughout different areas of the state." Trowa went on.
"I suppose we'll have to chase after them…but where do we chase them from? These bastards have gotten smarter."
As if on cue, Colonel Jamison walked into Heero and Trowa's quarters.
"I see you've gotten the word." He observed by their faces and the papers in Heero's hand."
The two dragoon officers nodded at the militia colonel.
"There seems to be a contingent of White Fang spreading across Virginia into more settled areas here." Colonel Jamison said as he unfurled a map. "Major, I want you and your dragoons as well as Captain Winner's Maganacs to chase after these guys, as they are highly mobile. We'll stay here and deal with the contingents that seem to be going south."
"You sure you can handle it?" Heero asked.
"We have no choice." Jamison declared with a sigh. "Someone needs to act as a deterrent to the White Fang heading back toward the more settled areas of the state. We'll correspond; just do what you do best."
The three saluted one another and then Jamison walked out.
"Go get Quatre ready, I'll alert Wufei to get the men prepared for travel." Heero ordered.
Trowa nodded and got right to it. Heero took the letter that he was penning for Relena and folded it up delicately. He put it in a secure place in his pocket, which would remind him to finish it later.
"Sergeant Chang." Heero called out as he exited his tent.
"What is it sir?"
"Get the men packed up and ready to move immediately."
Wufei saluted and went off shouting orders.
February 9th, 1780, Virginia
James Greer rode at the head of his column. They were approaching the plantation of a prominent Patriot family.
"Go and take anything of value you can find, then, torch the place."
"What about the niggers?" Alexander asked.
"I'd sell them to a slave trader, but we're supposed to let them run to the redcoats."
"Old Man Quinze's orders?" Alexander grinned.
To which James scoffed. "I don't give a damn about the geezer's guidelines; I'd just prefer to not have the redcoats angry at me for wasting a potential resource."
"I understand, I just don't get why the British would think that niggers are even worthy of bearing arms." Alexander replied. "Such an assumption is quite dangerous to boot."
James nodded his head. "Go now men! Go now!"
Alexander led the troops forward on horse while James stayed behind to secure a retreat alongside Theodore. The young planter took out his telescopic sight and watched as his troops stormed through the house, arguing with the various women inside and taking whatever valuables they could and destroying what they could not take. Any slaves that tried to resist in favor of their masters were whipped in the jaw or temple with the butt of a musket. Torches were lit and thrown into the windows of the plantation, eliciting a shriek from the women of the house.
"Men, let's go!" James called when he was satisfied that they had looted enough supplies.
The horses shrieked as the White Fang spurred them forward with their stolen goods, leaving the brightness of the fire and the sounds of shrieking women behind them.
February 10th, 1780, Virginia
It was becoming an all-too-common occurrence now. It had almost become a ritual. Trowa came into Heero's quarters and delivered him the latest newspaper, which detailed the aftermath of White Fang attacks. Heero was surprised however, that the White Fang contingent that they had been chasing after had now begun raiding the homes of prominent Virginia families.
"So now." Trowa said as he leaned back on the feeble wall of the tent. "They're sending a message to the leadership of Virginia."
"They're trying to send a message to give up resistance now. These guys are good." Heero said in monotone. "Plus, Washington is really on my ass now." Heero said after showing the latest letter from their supreme commander.
"That's easy to understand." Trowa replied. "He desperately needs good news."
"We all do. Hope is in short supply these days."
"So, how's Relena doing?"
"She's a bit better. At least we've managed to hold that bastard at bay since the end of the last year…"
"Well, that's a weight off your chest I guess."
"No, it makes it that much more important to him." Quatre declared as he entered the tent.
Trowa's visible emerald eye showed its mirth while Heero's Prussians displayed their usual exoteric indifference.
"How long have you been listening in on this?" Trowa asked.
"Long enough." He responded in his characteristic smile. "The fact that this James Greer person hasn't been harassing her due to the pressure of our chasing the White Fang is putting pressure on Heero to make sure he continues to ensure Miss Relena's safety."
"Wait a minute, how did my personal life become the subject of this discussion?" Heero asked, annoyed.
Quatre chuckled.
"Anyway, we better move out and follow those bastards. There's no telling what they're gonna try and hit. We move double time, forced march. The place they last hit is only about a day and a half ahead of us." Heero ordered. "One hour of rest for every three hours of movement. Give the orders now."
The two officers nodded in the affirmative and headed outside. Heero went over his orders from Washington, which were really more like pleas to do something. He wrote a reply to Washington as he heard the men prepping for march.
Dear Sir,
As per your latest notice of the 5th of this month, we are redoubling our efforts in pursuing the White Fang Tories. I regret to inform you that they have been elusive, and have begun to not only raid the property of frontier towns, but have now been reported looting and destroying prominent plantations, along with freeing negroes, perhaps they are hoping that they will turn to the British.
I'll do my best to keep this situation in check. Good luck up north, sir.
-Major Heero Yuy, Commanding Officer, Gundam Dragoons.
February 10th, 1780.
Heero stuffed the hastily written note in an envelope and would be sure to see it sent out as soon as possible. He then began to gather his weapons and other supplies and made ready for travel.
February 10th, 1780, Continental Army Headquarters, White Plains
Lieutenant Colonel Milliardo Peacecraft had finished dining with the other officers of the Continental Army and headed back to his quarters. He was exhausted, as were most of the other men up north with the army. There had been no substantial action for nearly two years now. The army had been encamped here, hoping for some action against Clinton in New York. But they did not have nearly enough manpower to storm the city, and could not prevent the British from being re-supplied by sea. Even the thought of preventing such action was outrageous. And the Franco-American alliance that was supposed to help in this matter was not paying dividends.
"You have mail, sir." One of Treize's staff officers informed him as he arrived at his quarters.
"Thank you." Milliardo nodded and went inside the dingy cabin.
The platinum-haired man cast aside his sword and sat at his desk, opening the envelope.
Dearest brother,
I hope you are doing well. The idleness of the army can spread pessimism around like a plague. Uncle Thomas has been a victim of this. His heart suffers with the burden of being governor, a job which he told me he really never wanted. I pray for him in such a tough time.
In response to your inquiry, I'm doing all right. Greer hasn't come by here since October 1st, of last year. I credit the increased pressure on the White Fang since that time for this, though I can't say that I'm not worried. My main consolation is that I know Heero is in Virginia now, and he will do his best to keep me safe from that man.
Milliardo growled inwardly at the mention of the major. He should be down there, protecting his sister, not that man! Of course, it was General Washington's call to send Major Yuy down there, but that didn't mean that he was happy about it.
I hope your spirits are high. If not, please stay faithful. You and the other patriots must, or we will never have our freedom.
Love, Relena
Milliardo smiled at the letter. It was nice to hear from his sister, it did help his spirits somewhat. The lieutenant colonel began a response.
February 11th, 1780, Virginia
Heero spurred Zero onward; the hard hooves hitting the ground might as well have been the only thing his ears could have heard. Stories from people they had met along the trail indicated that a militia had been moving through this area, heading east. The commander of this branch of the White Fang was as yet unknown.
"Heero, we need to give the horses a rest!" Trowa shouted from not far behind him.
"We've been at it for hours now!"
Relenting, Heero spurred Zero to a halt and raised his hand in a stop signal. The other men of the Gundams and Maganacs followed.
"Rest, and give your horses water." He ordered.
The men breathed a collective sigh of relief at the brief furlough from marching. As the horses began to pant and drink much-needed water, the men would drink along with them, eat their rations, or inspect their arms and equipment. Heero, meanwhile, sat down and looked over the maps at where they were heading, while Zero gulped up water very loudly behind him. Heero took a swig of his own rationed water and continued to pour over the map, looking for the best possible route to get to where the White Fang was reported to be moving. He was then distracted by the sound of Private Duo Maxwell's voice.
"Sir, I've got a traveler near the back of the column that says he came across some sort of militia not twelve hours ago. Should I bring him over here?"
"You think he's credible?"
"I believe he is telling the truth, sir." Duo replied.
"Do it, we need all the help we can get right now." Heero ordered.
"Sir." He said with a salute.
About a minute later, what appeared to be a lone frontiersman made his way to Heero, being led by Duo.
"Sir, I believe I saw those White Fang boys on my way over here. They appear to be headin' toward northeast."
"When did you see them?" Heero asked.
"Last night. Those boys are gonna be targeting more towns and homes I believe."
"Can you lead us to them?"
"I reckon I can." He replied, and then showed a gap-toothed smile. "For a small fee."
Duo angered. "Listen, if you want to help us, do so out of your desire for freedom and fear of the safety of your fellow Virginians!"
"Sorry, but I need the money."
"I'll pay you eighty continental dollars." Heero declared.
"Nothing's worth a continental boy!"(2) The man replied adamantly. "I want hard specie, or else you can go find those White Fang boys on your own!"
"…Fine." Heero reluctantly agreed. "But I'll tell you now that it will take longer for you to receive your payment in that case."
"Whatever, you just make sure I get my payment! When you all decide you want to go, just let me know, and I'll lead you right to e'm."
"He's certainly not your most virtuous type." Trowa whispered into Heero's ear once the man had left. "You think we can trust him?"
"Yeah, I do." Heero replied. "I can't exactly blame him, considering the shitty economic situation that these free and united states have fallen into."
"I agree." Quatre said as he walked up to Heero from behind. "He may not be the most pure person in the world, but he is telling the truth about this, I can feel it."
Heero turned toward the two men. "Be prepared for march on a moment's notice."
They both nodded and left toward their own contingents.
"Private Maxwell." Heero called out as he turned back to him. "I want your eyes on that man like a Fox watches its prey. If you see any wrongdoing at all, kill him."
"Yes sir." Duo said with a salute and walked back to Deathscythe.
February 11th, 1780, Virginia
"James, are you sure you want to go there alone, especially when we're about to go on this raid?" Theodore asked in a confused state.
"Does your honor mean anything to you?"
"Of course."
"Then you know why I must go. You and Alexander take charge here. I will rejoin you in the morning."
"All right…I just hope you know what the fuck you're doing." He warned.
James merely rode away into the night on his horse without saying one more thing.
"Form up men!" Theodore ordered. "Be prepared for attack!"
The sound of muskets loading and being cocked filled the air. The militia was preparing to raid yet another plantation. A few men lit torches and either walked or rode toward the target.
"Look!" Wufei cried to Heero. "Over there!"
Heero looked in the direction that Wufei was pointing and halted the column.
"That'd be them." Their guide announced.
"You did well." Heero complimented. "You'll receive your payment as soon as I can get it to you. Gundams! Attack!" He ordered.
Alexander organized the back part of the column for attack when he heard a shot. He then saw one of the men behind him fall dead. This was followed by the sound of more gunfire and flashes going off in his peripheral vision. He could hear bullets striking more flesh and see more men fall.
"We're under attack! Men, we're under attack!"
Duo carefully aimed at his target and pulled the trigger. When the smoke cleared he could see that his target fell where it stood.
Heero took out his saber after firing his second pistol and charged toward the enemy contingent, which was in complete disarray.
"Charge!" He yelled. "Charge!"
The column of horses smashed into the enemy rabble. Heero impaled his sword through the first unfortunate soul that happened to come across him. Wufei, as usual, was right next to him, firing his second pistol into the enemy formation.
"Quatre!" Heero called through the chaotic sounds of war cries, frightened horses, and the sounds of wounded and dying men.
Quatre finished his saber slash of his target and rode toward Heero, with Sandrock trampling those wounded that had fallen to the ground and quickly scattering anyone standing who was in the horses' way.
"Yes?" He answered.
"Try to cut off their retreat!"
Quatre nodded and signaled for the Maganacs to follow him as he attempted to circle around the crowded and cramped battlefield, which was even more confusing due to the darkness of night.
Theodore frantically tried to rally the men to retreat in an orderly fashion. They had been taken totally by surprise. He knew who they were facing- it was the Gundam Dragoons. His men, though tough militiamen, could not hope to put up a good head-on fight against such battle hardened veterans, especially not when they were as taken off guard as this. They would have to get out of here, and fast, before their retreat was completely cut off.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a bullet crashing into flesh. The man that was right next to him had been shot down. It was at this point that he joined his companions in just fleeing for his life- and to hell with tactics.
Theodore spurred his very frightened horse and bolted away from the scene as fast as he could, narrowly avoiding the contingent that was sent to circle the White Fang troops. The men that were mounted, Theodore could see, were beginning to make it out of the maelstrom, including Alexander. The men on foot, however, were being butchered. The young Virginia planter closed his eyes in distress and continued to gallop for his life. He'd have to link up with James and tell him of this major and shocking setback.
Duo smiled widely as he watched the remaining White Fang forces in this small area lay down their muskets. Some even got on their knees and pleaded for their lives. Heero quickly halted the attack.
"Looks like we stopped an attack on another plantation." Trowa declared.
"Detain the prisoners, and question their commanding officer." Heero ordered.
Trowa nodded and spurred Heavyarms at a canter to get everything organized.
"A lot of the men on horseback managed to escape." Quatre declared once he reached Heero. "But all things considered, we did a good job here." He grinned. "This is probably the most substantial thing that's happened so far this year, and it took less than fifteen minutes!"
"You did a good job." Heero complimented.
He then moved away from Quatre and looked over the newly-captured prisoners. As expected, they were not very well-equipped and were more farmers than soldiers, but Heero had seen much of that during his time in the Continental Army and knew to never underestimate them.
"Where is your commanding officer?" Heero asked.
"I uh, I think he left before the battle, sir." One of the prisoners answered.
"Who was in command?" Heero asked, surprised.
"James Greer."
After taming a bout of anger that threatened to flare up, Heero continued.
"And where did he go?"
"To some woman's plantation, some crap about his honor. If he had real honor he would have fought with us!"
Heero recoiled and backed Zero up a bit, when Trowa rode up to his side.
"The others are saying the same thing." Trowa whispered. "Heero, I think…Relena's manor isn't that far from here."
"It's not…" Heero said with a dry throat, but tried to remain calm.
February 11th, 1780, Sanc Manor, Virginia
James came upon the Sanc Manor, which was still lit by candle. He spurred his horse through the slave zones, trying to appear to be an overseer. He quietly rode to the back of the plantation and smashed a hole in a window with a rock. James proceeded to unlock it, and then went through the portal.
Relena thought she had heard a funny sound coming from somewhere inside the house, but brushed it off as nothing and continued her reading. Perhaps her sister-in-law had returned from her trip to Williamsburg.
"Lu?" She called out.
She found it very odd that no one answered.
"Relena, so good to see you." James snickered from a doorway.
Relena's eyes went wide and she turned around to see the arrogant man standing in her house.
Relena screamed as loud as she could, while James walked slowly toward her with arrogance and a dash of malice in his eyes.
"Heero!" Trowa pleaded as he watched his friend prepare to leave. "Your duty is to secure these prisoners! You're going absent without official leave! If Washington ever finds out about this, he'll have your head!"
"Washington is 500 miles away!" He snarled. "Besides, I'm the commanding officer here, I'm giving myself leave."
Trowa relented. "I'll take charge here…do my best to keep it secret."
"Thank you. This isn't about the army or my official duties. It's about something my father told me…just before the war: when you do meet that woman that captures your soul, always keep her first in your thoughts, even when there are Huns at the gate. That's what he said to me."
"I understand…make sure you give him a good hit from me."
Heero smirked and then galloped Zero toward the Sanc Manor as fast as the horse could possibly take him.
1. It was a common custom to refuse a duel from someone perceived to be beneath the station of the person being challenged.
2. The Continental Dollar, a paper currency that the Continental Congress regulated, was so inflated and worthless that the saying of 'not worth a continental' came about, to indicate something's worthlessness.
A/N: Yeah, I cut it off there. Please, please, review. And here is the website my friends and I made for our little show: f r e e w e b s . c o m /cawfightingfederation Copy/paste with the spaces deleted, or just look to my profile for the link. Hope to see you there! Please sign our guestbook or PM me with your thoughts about our little project! And I promise…I will try to update again before this month is over!