The Thirteenth Colony (State Humans/Country Humans)

Chapter 6: First Contact

It had been four hours since New York had begun his patrol through the wilderness. He had some of his people with him, but no other colonies. The plan had been Massachusett's, since the colonies held the advantage of numbers, they would advance through the wilderness looking for the French. If the French Colonies was isolated, as it was likely to be, then they could attack quick with the forces that they had on hand, winning an early victory.

York was currently leading from the front to ensure his army was moving at the pace he wanted. He had ordered that all drummers march along with his forces without playing, so as not to alert the French, but when he looked behind him and saw a few of his men drifting behind a bit, he wondered about it's practicality.

He stopped his marching and signalled to one of his aids, "Tell the men to make camp for the night. We move out again at dawn." The aid nodded and ran off to spread the news.

York took a seat on a nearby tree trunk. "And to think I could've been Buying wine from the frogs right now if it wasn't for the war." He said to himself as he looked out over the forest, "Maybe in a year all of this will be over."

Five Minutes Earlier

Quebec had been at her temporary camp awaiting reports from couriers when she decided she would take a break from the loud commotion of the command tent. As she headed out she began walking off in a random direction with a clearing wide enough to walk in. It was in the early evening, and a pleasant, crisp cool breeze blew through the air.

As she went on though, she stopped in a clearing when she heard a noise. Taking her pistol from its holster with one hand, she moved carefully towards where the noise had originated. She carefully moved one hand to move a few branches out of the way slowly.

She saw someone in a red coat sitting on a rock whistling with a camp behind them. After a second Quebec realized it wasn't just anybody in a red coat, it was another country. As quietly as she could manage, she backed away from her observation point.

3 Hours Later

New York was awoken from his dreams by the thundering report of a cannon discharging. He immediately got up from his cot, put on his boots, coat, and hat, grabbed his musket, and charged out of his tent. As both the nighttime breeze and screams of wounded soldiers greeted him, it wasn't what he saw, but what he didn't see that alarmed him.

Despite the attack going on, the only army he could see was his own. He heard someone yell, "The trees! The trees!" He squinted his eyes to look where man pointed, just about making out the outline of figures in the darkness.

Soldiers from his line began to fire upon them, but to his dismay, hardly any of the attackers fell in spite of the number of his men.

The dam... who even where they? French? Spanish? Natives? Whoever they where, they were hiding like cowards in the shadows while his own army was left in the open to be picked off man by man.

13 Minutes Later

Quebec's plan had worked as well as she hoped and more. She didn't like taking cheap shots at people like this, but given the choice between being alive and having a squeaky clean conscious, she'd take the former any day. After all, the latter was just a quality of life improvement at the end of the day.

Before long the English forces had all retreated, surrendered, or died. Quebec hopped on her horse and headed back to her new home.

5 Hours Later

Georgia had been staying up late like the other states. Everyone had made it back home from their hunting, everyone except York. None of the states had directly talked about it, no one wanted to address it.

When Georgia had asked Jersey about it, the state said, "Nah, I'm not worried about him. York's a smart guy, he wouldn't do anything stupid. If he needed something, he ask for it." Despite his words, there was a certain hesitation in his voice.

Finally Georgia heard someone yell out, "It's New York! York's back!" The states all ran back to the front gate and ran out to see their brother. The state was covered in mud, his red coat ripped and torn. The most pronounced part of his appearance though, was the look on his face. The look that wasn't of anger, or fear, or sadness. It was the blank, soulless look of defeat.

Missouri's Diary

When Quebec came home today, she talked about how she had defeated the English in decisive victory. That should make me happy,  yet I can't help but think about how she described her victory. Is this the reality of war? Until next time, I shall continue my duty in the war.

So this chapter isn't my best work in this book, or the longest. The reason for that is that their isn't much interaction of characters in this chapter. This is basically filler that elaborates on the character of Quebec a bit. Next chapter will be normal. This is a week late and with good reason, because the original draft for this chapter made me cringe whenever I read it.

Soon We'll see what happened to Florida and Scotland, even if its not next chapter. It takes a while to go across the ocean after all so it has been a few chapters.

Also I've decided to start adding a pun to each chapter. I'll have the answer in the author's notes of the next chapter.

A man walked into a bar...