Molon Labe! ((Earth; Empires. IC))

[EE Texas]

((Shiny new OOC thread here.))

Spearmint Ranch, 30 miles outside College Station, Texas.

"I want accuracy and precision, boys! Ready!" Raising his baton into the air, the leader of the Brazos County Militia watched the line of twenty men raise their rifles, twenty hammers cocking back under twenty practiced thumbs. All wore the same grey, knee-length greatcoat over their usual attire, the uniform of their little band. Usually they were sweating in the heavy wool garment, but today it was something to be thankful for; in Texas, sixty degrees Fahrenheit was a reason to wrap up warm when you went outdoors.

"Level!" In one motion, the line of men pointed their rifles at the row of targets set a hundred yards away. Dropping his arm in a swift chopping motion, the proctor shouted the word to fire. With a crashing shot, the militiamen volleyed, knocking nineteen man-shaped metal targets to the ground. About three-quarters down the line, the youngest of the group whipped off his hat and threw it to the ground, cursing vilely.

"That's enough of that, Davis," Commander Spearmint called to him, speaking without heat. "Alright, boys, safe your weapons and put them back in the locker, that's all for this month. Not you, Davis." While the other young men went back to the big ranch house, laughing and jostling, Davis trudged over to his superior with a grim look on his face. "'Nough of that too, Davis. Straighten up, you're a militiaman now, not a office-lurkin' carpetbagger." Digging in the breast pocket of his drab overcoat, Spearmint brought out a softpack and lighter, offering it to the young boy. With a look of great surprise, Davis took one with a muttered thanks, setting the butt of his rifle on the ground and leaning it against his shoulder.

Spearmint retrieved it, grinning as the boy coughed and grimaced as the pungent tobacco smoke burned down his throat for what might have been the first time. "How old are you now, Davis? Seventeen?" Clearing his throat, the boy replied, "Sixteen, mister Spearmint. Joined up when I was just fifteen and six months." He looked worried, as though he thought the older man would chastise him for getting in underage. Instead, Spearmint chuckled heartily, shaking his head.

"Wish I'd been as canny at your age. Back then, the militia was just a bunch of crazies and secessionist crackers out in the woods, bitchin' about the gu'mint. Now look at us. Twenty young men your own age, takin' up rifles and shootin' down targets once a month, and why? Cuz it's what the cool kids do, go down in my fields and blast away your allowance on shot, walk around Bryan in the grey cuz it makes the girls giggle and ask how long you served." Davis turned red, because that had pretty much been it. Everyone knew that no matter how bad things got in Europe, America would hang tough against the Russkies and the Dagoes, so why would any state need a real militia?

When Davis voiced that question, Spearmint grinned again, looking around conspiratorially before answering. "Because there might come a day when the Yankees won't come around here no more. This state used to be its own country, for a few years at least. Thousands'a years ago, but the time's comin' when it'll be the Republic of Texas makin' its own fate again. Too many Yankee sojers down here now, comin' into town every week to chase the girls and drink our booze and get mean when they have to pay, too many startin' fights... and the Federals won't do anythin' about it. They think they're runnin' the show, but if they can't keep the army in hand, Texas'll just have to sort 'em out on its own." He cocked an eye at Davis, who was staring at him a little slack-jawed.

"Skin over to the house, Davis. Don't worry about missin' that last one, you almost always hit what your lookin' at. And I'm pretty sure Patricia didn't see it." Davis turned scarlet from the collar of his coat to the tips of his ears, which was all the more noticeable since he'd been pale from the cold just a breath earlier. "Go on, git. And watch your mouth around my Patty. Don't want her learnin' any of those words you said, hear?"


Austin, Texas.

At the same moment the militia commander was instructing his charge on the matters of politics, thousands of Texas were marching outside the state capitol, carrying banners of many colors and sizes. There were several camps in the mass of activists, ranging from the popular Republic of Texas secessionists, turned out in grey greatcoats and carrying the Gonzales Flag, to the ragtag Peace With Aliens free association. The rally had been going on for over a week now, and the ROT bunch was definitely in the majority, with smaller groups amalgamating themselves into it by purchasing the Uniform and carrying Free Texas cardboard signs.

All around the marching fields formed on the broad lawns of the capitol complex, stalls and vendors were formed on the sidewalks, and there too the ROT bunch was definitely in the majority, with smaller groups amalgamating themselves into it by purchasing the Uniform and carrying Free Texas cardboard signs. The rally had been going on for over a week now, and the only response by the government was a call-up of the Texas Rangers, a few of which had left their post to go into the crowd, only to return with a woolen greatcoat under their arm.

There was nothing else for them to do, because so far no one had actually protested anything. The ROT gang was there in support of the sympathetic State Legislature, which had been called into special session for the express purpose of discussing what action to take against the Federalists. Nothing about the crowds attitude suggested any form of rebellion against the State - or the Republic, depending on which politics you subscribed to - and in fact it was rather like one big, sprawling fairground-cum-barbecue. There was even a dancing area situated near a bandstand, upon which a group of ten men and boys played everything from guitars to harmonicas and spoons.

The only thing this lot could be accused of was trampling the grass, and no one wanted to mention that, due to the only reason the Rangers had been called at all; guns. They were everywhere, though only the licensed militiamen carried real linear muskets, and it seemed like everyone over the age of seventeen was carrying a pistol or a scattergun or some sort of hunting rifle. No bullets though, they were sure of that; most of the guns didn't have magazines in them, and the ones that didn't use them... well, they'd asked enough of the owners to turn them over for inspection to be pretty sure they was nothing wrong going on. Still, it kept anyone from interfering, since it would take about one truck with a covered bed to turn this into a very hostile army right on the capitol lawn.

"Which is the point, y'see," said Officer McHenry to his younger, and clearly very nervous partner, leaning against the slim blue sedan that functioned as their patrol car. They were both Rangers, McHenry having been in for fifteen years compared to Owens's two. Both wore the iconic off-white Stetson's of the Texas Rangers, but while Owens still wore his dark blue business suit, McHenry had discarded his coat for a Uniform. "They're out here to prove they can do what the hell they like, and Lord help the army that tries to stop 'em. Legislature's in there right now talkin' 'bout I don't know what all, Hell, we may be our own country now and they're just dickerin' over the new Constitution, shit." McHenry leaned away from their car to spit a stream of dark liquid on the pavement.

"I don't know politics, but what I do know is if you go in there," He pointed at the crowd emphatically, leaning over to spit a stream of dark liquid on the pavement. "You keep your hand away from your sidearm, and you be fuckin' polite to everyone you see. I seen this sorta thang before, crowd'll turn murderous at the drop of a hat if someone starts anythin'. If someone does, you better pick a side and fight for yer life, kid. I already done the first." Glancing at his older compatriot and the coat he wore, Owens swallowed hard, then pushed away from the car and headed into the mass of humanity, aiming for one of the many stands selling grey woolen garments.

McHenry sat back on the hood, rolling the bit of chewing tobacco around in his mouth. "Now let's see what the Feds think'a that. Lawmen wearin' rebel uniforms." Because by that point, rebels was the only thing you could possibly call them.

[FS_America]

Governors Building
Austin Texas

"I don't care! Mr Fredrickson I am the governor of this State and Lord help me if im goin to let a few Secessionist Ruin my Reputation!" Frank Kilkenny smashed his Balled fist against the solid Oak desk of his office. "What will do when the Spanish come huh! do you think they will care when they come roiling over those hills armed tooth and nail... no they wont they will steam roll right over you" At this point Kilkenny was in full blown rant hands where waving and fingers where pointing spit was flying as the rather Stocky man raged and ranted at the legislator. Unfortunately Kilkenny had no friends in the room at this point, It seemed the whole state was set on mutiny, and by lord Kilkenny would have it. And do you know why huh do you know why Mr Fredrickson, at the end of the day we are all Americans! and the Spanish and god knows the Dutch and god dammit their whole freaking alliance is out to get us! Texas has always been a shining example to the rest of the States! Protectors against Spanish incursion! and you want to spread fear amongst your cousins friends and family as you hoist some god forsaken flag above this building! I Will not have it Sir! I just will not! you better count your self lucky I don't have you all arrested for high treason against the State and against America!"

Kilkenny finally stopped and glanced out of the window, feeling this anger boil as the people amassed outside. He knew they weren't doing wrong, but dammit he would see every single last god forsaken Republic of Texas flag ripped apart. Turning once again to Mr Fredrickson he walked over to the spindly man with Glasses getting right up into his face he whispered. "You listen to me! and listen well, whilst I am in charge you will not have your over glorified Republic, you are a state of America!" With that said he left the office leaving the men that where in it to there won thoughts, forcefully making his way through the building he found his way to the Landing pad and his Ford Armoured Sky Car his driver nodding to him they lifted off and flew off into the cloudy sky.

Spearmint Ranch
Texas

As Spearmint watched the young lad head indoors he would be met with a rather less likeable sight. The Brazen navy blue and gold trimmings of an American 3rd Army Major, aloft on his trusty steed, followed by a company of 120 Soldiers Carrying Linier muskets marching rank and file behind him, the soft rasp of the drummer boy behind them still. Usually horses where a rarity Even on the plains they where becoming less and less common, times had changed most of them where bred and kept in ranches so it was a great sight to see the magnificent steed, even if the rider wasn't so welcomed.

Major Daniel summers smirked as he watched the Militia captain stand there. Trotting along leisurely it wasn't long before Summers was upon the Captain looking down at him. "I do say Spearmint! what I cant fathom is why those young'uns Join out ragtag outfit, when they could be wearing there nations patriotic colours, surely there much more fetching than those .... drab colours. Summers pointed with his Drill cane to the Militia captains drab great coat. "There's nothing like a grand uniform to lift the spirits and to encourage heroism in the ranks!

Summers smirked and looked behind him to the company that had formed up, each one looked unhappy to say the least tired from a days worth of border patrols and when they weren't on patrol they where being drilled. Chins forced up by Collar Stocks the only thing that did look smart about them was there uniform. Their muskets where another thing, old and mismatched no Marine or Grenadier regiment would touch them, so they where left to the line infantry and ultimately the regular Infantryman. Two more Men wearing the navy blue uniforms of the American army trotted up both equally stunning steeds. To any eye you could tell they where wealthy kids whos families had bought there commissions. Summers how ever was both wealthy and had Fought for his commission in the 2nd America/spanish war, this had made him both Pompous and over zealous, and that reflected in his words.

"So..... Spearmint! why haven't you and your lackeys signed up to the Volunteer army.... surely you've heard we are giving those damned Dinosians a good thrashing! or are you to snot brained and un-patriotic to even read the news papers?"

OOC: Feel free to kill the Governor and the Major if you wish but your action will reflect the Repercussion's! its up to you what you do next he he

[Azaranthia]

Rodrigo sat in his office, sifting through paperwork about various projects he had going on. The economic recovery plan, the shakedown of the armed forces, intelligence and diplomatic communiques, all necessary parts of running an empire. One intelligence report crossed his desk, stamped with the seal of the Advisory Council. He raised an eyebrow as he grabbed it; they only marked that seal as a way of signaling urgent messages and documents. Opening it, he took a scan and his eyes widened, his other thoughts forgotten. It revealed a blessed opportunity for Spain to weaken the FSA and possibly regain some of its old territory. The Texans, always a proud and independent state, had become dissatisfied with recent decisions and appeared to be on the verge of revolt. Many had gathered in the capital and rumors flew like bullets that the legislature was discussing seceding.

He leaned back and stroked his chin. This presented a momentous opportunity; they could sweep in and defeat the rebels and claim the territory, claiming they were restoring order where the Americans obviously failed. However, if a government emerged and resisted, they could say they were mistaken and recognize the burgeoning state and agree to protect it. This would force America to choose between letting it go or having the Alliance come down on its head, whilst it fought the Dinosians. That way, they'd get a buffer state they could support and thus reduce their worry of invasion by the United States. Hell, if they could get the space elevator, they could even begin to go into space. The opportunities were just endless. Smiling, he tapped a key on the comm next to him and heard the reply from his secretary. "Get me General de Ejercito Sanchez, tell him it is urgent...."

****************

Amongst the Texan rally at Austin, a single Texan sat amongst his friends, laughing and joking with the best of them, dressed in the gray of the new cause. He had lived there for years, never marrying "since his spirit was too free to bolt down to any one place", preferring to drift. But he maintained a circle of friends and did good work at the factory he was at as a manager. No one had any idea that is man was a Oscuras Guardas agent named Juan, one of many sprinkled into Texas and other states to keep an eye on America and generally cause situations like this. Granted, they hadn't really brought this about, but they were taking advantage of it. Exaggerated stories to inflame the populace, staging fights with hired thugs who made passes at woman and caused bar fights, and more to get them more and more riled up. Now, it was working splendidly, with the secession all but assured. They were worried about how America would react; this situation was still very fluid and it could go any way at the drop of a hat.

For now, agents like Juan would continue to do their job and remain low and quiet, remaining as boisterous Texas citizens and see what opportunities cropped up. Even Spain could not do much, beyond lightly increase patrols here and there and begin to slowly prepare a massive mobilization. But it was not done in any way to hint at anything beyond shuffling of assets, which would be understandable regarding the recent tension at Tuscany. They could afford to wait; the Americans had everything to lose and they had everything to gain. They could wait and see what happened.

[EE Texas]

Austin, Texas. State Capitol.

Fredrickson blew a cloud of smoke into the air, flicking a bit of ash off the tip of his cigarette as he looked calmly at the newly promoted Governor of Texas. Across the oak desk, Jake Williams shifted uncomfortably in the recently vacated office chair of that same office, swirling a healthy portion of whiskey around in its crystal glass. After a long pause, he spoke, not quite looking at the somber Senator or the top of his desk. Eventually, he settled for tipping back in his chair and staring at the roof.

"So... What now, Billy?"

Bill Fredrickson shrugged noncommittally, breathing another thick blue cloud of clove-scented vapor to the side, away from his old friend.

"It's very simple, Jake. The dumb bastard told us we'd never be a Republic while he held office, and then he immediately left the capitol while Congress was in a special session. Tacit approval for the secession of Texas from the Federation. With him gone, you step into his office as interim Governor, we secede and hold Presidential elections. If it weren't for what what's-his-name Lincoln did back in the Nineteenth Century, this'd all be very legal and straightforward."

The Senator leaned forward in his chair, catching Williams' eye for the first time since they had sat down. "Jake, this has already gone through both houses of Congress. It took landslide votes in both, and the R-O-T is sittin' outside waitin' to set off the fireworks. This is not gonna go away, Governor Williams." Picking up a pen, Fredrickson placed it on the Declaration of Independence, sliding both pen and paper across the desk to Williams.

"Just. Sign. It."



Spearmint Ranch.

Spearmint looked the Major up and down, his expression neutral. He gave no sign that he was angry at the intrusion onto his private property, nor fear at the large force of soldiers. Instead, he stuck his baton through his belt, dropped his burnt out cigarette, and slowly went through the motions of lighting another. When that was done, he looked over the assembled company of troops with a critical eye, taking in their somber faces and shoddy equipment. Then he looked once more at the leader, speaking in tones that were the essence of cordiality and politeness as a wide grin split his features.

"Howdy, Major Summers. Ain't so sure about the fine fettle of your men there. Uniforms are alright, but by God they're flashy. Good target for skirmishers. I bet even a bunch of my boys could pick 'em apart, and most of 'em ain't old enough to shave. You'd stand out particular well, I reckon." Working his mouth, Spearmint spat to one side. As he turned to do so, he caught sight of several men and all the boys standing on and around the front porch of his large ranch house. All wore grey overcoats and expressions ranging from fear to shock and outrage.

"What's your business here, Major? Come to roust us out as dangers to American society?" He laughed at his own poor joke, a low chuckle. "Can't imagine why you'd wanna do that. We're just good patriots who wanna be ready for the damn Xenos and Dagoes if they ever try to set foot on American soil." Looking up, he stared directly into Summers' eyes, his expression going cold and serious as a heart attack. One hand brushed back the open flap of his greatcoat, revealing the butt of a bulky service revolver before the Militia Captain's hand closed on it, ready to whip it out.

"Or anyone else who ain't welcome here. Now you turn that big, smelly, God awful creature around and you head back the way you came, or I swear on my life I'll invoke the Castle Laws where I stand. You come on my ranch with good Texas boys done up in shitty Fed uniforms, ride onto my land like you own the place, insult me and my crew and tout that scumsuckin' Volunteer Army of yours? You got the damn Yankee gall to do that? Then you best be ready to draw on me, boy." With every word, his voice became louder and louder, clearly audible to every Federation trooper and militiaman on the ranch.

By the porch there was a raucous clangor as men stampeded off the porch, rifles in hand, jogging to stand with their leader. Every one of the boys were leveling their own weapons across the wooden railing, and several windows opened in the house, to be immediately filled with the lethal muzzles of yet more weapons. Quite clearly, this was no simple ranch where kids went to shoot guns; this was the hornet's own nest, and Summers had just head-butted it.

Spearmint glared up at Summers, waiting. "You've got one minute. Then we start shootin'. Got that, Billy Yank?"

[CS Malta]

Fort Providence, Izumrud-America Border

"Captain, are you certain that this is proper?" The hulking man spoke with a voice like crushed gravel, brown eyes glaring out from behind a clear visor. The view he had was one that did not satisfy him at all. An entire outpost of Knights along the Federated States border with Izumrud preparing to go to war. Heavy weapons clanked and crunched as they were manhandled by the assembling troopers. A crew of frighteningly enthusiastic gunners clustered around their newest toy. The first one along the frontier, it appeared to be a standard military issue short bed four wheel drive pickup, until eyes were laid on the pintle-mounted weapon in the back. It was a massive contraption that the large man, one Knight Brother Olaf Gunarrsson, of the Knights of Malta, had very little faith in. Their Maltese compatriots assured them that this "Gatling Laser" would function to specifications, but Olaf had no intentions of standing anywhere near it when it started firing. He figured there was a better than even chance it would simply explode on the first stroke of the trigger, taking all of those enthusiastic gunners with it. And anyone else who happened to be standing too close.

"Brother, we are called to serve humanity, and minister to their hurts. We will go among these people and see to their spiritual health. Their so called rulers abandon them to rot in squalor and debauchery, and we will come among them, lifting up the righteous and striking down the wicked in their name. We have an obligation to these people, and we will meet it. These "Texans" in the south, who rail against their corrupt Federal Government, are God-fearing men, and will do right by their countrymen by separating from this godless and heathen land. We can do no less than to aid their countrymen." The Knight Captain in question was something of a fanatic, with a fiery hatred for America, and a fervor for his faith that bordered on mania. His reply was almost incoherent to the younger Knight Brother, but he understood the gist. The Captain felt that the Hospitallers charge to serve humanity meant they should go out and minister to the peaceful and smite the wicked in another land. It could be argued that this was a valid interpretation of their charge, but it was a very loose one, and one that had never been taken by any commander before.

Knight Captain Thomas Jackson met the eyes of his garrison commander evenly as he spoke. He had absolutely no reservations about his choices, or his justification for making them. He saluted briefly, and turned on his heel, opaquing his visor and assembling his force around him. Lay brothers and knights alike, crossing the border in the name of God. Moving out at a respectable speed, not rushing ahead, but not idling either, the Knight Captain's "Mission" set out from Fort Providence across the American border. Behind them, Olaf Gunnarrsson prayed quietly that this would not end as he feared it would.

[FS_America]

Fort Hood
US Military Base
Command HQ of the 3rd Army

General John Phillips, sat at his massive solid oak desk reading the files before him. The General wasn't exactly a stocky man, he was tall and sat as if he had been properly educated, in the ways of etticate. He seemed calm unlike the others stood before him in the room, the others all seemed to be a little nervous to be in his presence, General Phillips had a reputation to be a little ruthless when it came to his army and regularly tried to root out loose ends and crooked officers in his ranks. He had gained a name for him self to be ruthless with those that he found and how he "Disposed of them". This had passed into the General populace and the army, some what twisted to suit the time and place his name was used, it had been widely accepted that he was a ruthless man and should he be called to action in any situation he would be ruthless in its handling.

Those in the room fully expected Phillips to Muster very man he had under his command and send them into Austin, to put down this rebellion. Yet each one said nothing not even the Major General Sinclair General Phillips second in command spoke he looked equally as nervous as the other colonels and lieutenants in the room.

"Gentlemen..." Phillips spoke as he slowly put down the brown folder on the table and closing it placing a hand on top of it and leaning forward. "This ...Demonstration has gone on long enough now it is stopping the law abiding citizens from getting to work and inciting our future youth to fight against us. This cannot be allowed to continue, I have been on the line to the Pentagon and we have permission to go ahead and pacify this rebellion. Phillips watched each man in the room visibly gulp at the prospect of an all out brawl with the local populace. Smirking he pushed the folder to one side, We will not be shooting at them unless they shoot at us first gentlemen I want Colonel Doncaster and Major Hargreaves to take there regiments into Austin and begin to Kettle this demonstration I do not want it spreading to pocket skirmishes across the capitol if it should come to that. I will Send Major Williams and Major Furrow with the 34th woodland rangers and the 12th Louisiana foot regiment to back you up they will secure the rest of the city, You have jurisdiction over the local law enforcement and militias in the area. call up on them should you need help. is that under stood gentlemen?" Two of the Men in the room came to attention and saluted to the general placing there hands back on the hilts of there sabres they walked out of the room closing the door softly behind them. "The Rest of you are dismissed gentlemen how ever I suggest you muster your men and have them ready to move out at a moments notice.... no not your Sinclair I need to talk to you."

Sinclair stopped in his tracks and turned slowly, composing him self as he did so, Sinclair new Phillips they where friends but even he was scared that the General would reprimand him for something. turning and smiling from behind his greying Handlebar moustache Sinclair was ageing almost 69 he used to be in command of the 3rd army until he relinquished his command to Phillips willingly late last year. "Yes General?" Sinclair managed a small smile half hidden by his moustache.

Phillips smiled to his friend and some what of a mentor. "What do you thinks going to happen when we kettle these protesters in? i hazard a guess they wont like it one bit and start shooting, or at least getting more rowdy, but how else do you disperse a powder keg that large?"

Sinclair let out a sigh of relief advice was something he was good at, taking a seat he lit his Ivory pipe thinking for a moment he shook his head. He honestly couldn't think of how to disperse a large crowd that was ready to pull the trigger and light the powder keg at any moment. Taking his pipe from his mouth he shook his head solemnly. "Sorry General it seems the Texans our brothers no less are dead set on seceding, Im afraid we cant do much more but hope that it will blow over with as little blood shed as possible."

Phillips nodded and stood up quickly followed by Sinclair. "I Suppose i have my orders and i will follow them, Texas will not secede with out a fight. The Foolish Governor only made things worse by leaving, there is no way we will get some one in there before they sign the papers"

"Most defiantly" Sinclair replied sucking on his ivory pipe. "We can only hope but I doubt it I suggest we send the Texas born Regiments very very far away for the time being. put them on the Borders and spread them out, encase things do turn nasty it will take time to get word to them and for them to get to the action should they choose to help out there fellow Texans."

Phillips nodded and light a cigarette looking out to the compound below at the troops in rank and file with countless other running into the courtyard on the far end Dragoons where lining up also they where to be the last resort men clad in power armour able to send men flying in their droves with a swing of there fist, should the worst come to the worst and the infantry regiment be over whelmed in Austin the Dragoons would be there to quickly prop up the line. "God save those men out there!" Phillips said quietly as he watched them from his window still smoking his cigarette

Spearmint Ranch

Summers was clearly shocked by the ranch owners retorting, the tongue lashing the major received, was clearly one from a man who hated the Federal government and Summers could hardly believe the man was allowed to own the land his ranch was on at all. Never mind have his own military force in his back yard. Summers could have dealt with the insults to his company's men with a straight face but the personal insults made his blood boil, the audacity of the militia man was bordering ludicrous and more importantly he was mocking a major of the Federated states military.

Summers face went bright red, Gritting his teeth Summer couldn't tell if he should shoot the man down where he stood or retreat and burn the ranch down once he assessed the situation. Words continued to spew from the Hicks mouth insulting and demeaning. Summers was thankful his company was so far back that they would only be able to hear the odd word. Then the Hick finished abrupt and threatening he had just threatened to attack an American company and to summer that was all the Deceleration of war he needed.

With out a word summers turned around on his steed and trotted off. Passing his officers he looked back behind him to the Ranch owner, and then turned back around being far enough away that a low voice couldn't be heard Summers issued one simple order. "Burn it to the ground"

With that his two officers rode off at a quicker pace from Summers who continued to trot along. His officers lieutenants both of them Started barking out orders.

"Company Charge bayonets!

"The Line will Face to the Right and Form Line!"

The Company of 120 men turned and to face Spearmint's ranch a soft hum of the Vibro Bayonets creating a low Hum. the Lieutenants both of them dismounted there steeds, horses presented a larger target to any one and it was military protocol to dismount when under attack or attacking. Barking more orders the company began to load there Muskets.


OOC: Feel free to say you shot first I understand that a company would take a while to load and fire and i assume that each gun sticking out of the windows and in the hands of your militia are loaded so I will take losses accordingly in my next post. Also what should I d about Malta????

[EE Texas]

Spearmint Ranch.

Even as the Major was instructing his officers, Spearmint headed back to the house, joining his militia at the porch steps. "They got thirty seconds to show their breakin' off, then we blast 'em," he said, not bothering to quiet his words. "No one shoots til I give the order or they start it up. Pass the word."

Behind him, the soldiers started forming a firing line, charging their bayonets in preparation for combat. The old man knew they were outnumbered and probably outgunned, but neither side had a shield, which gave the militia an advantage; not all of their weapons were the powerful .75 caliber muskets, but the smaller, more accurate hunting rifles they used for practice and recreational shooting. No good against a shield, of course, but lethal against men in the open, and with an massively superior rate of fire.

Even so, Spearmint felt the need to head off bloodshed; it hadn't bee his intention to start a full-blown battle on his front lawn, whatever he had said to the Major. Wounds incurred from the large rifles held by the Federalists would almost certainly be mortal, or at least crippling; and that blood would be on his hands. Turning back to face the soldiers, Spearmint cupped his hands in front of his mouth, forming a makeshift bullhorn.

"Hey, you lot! We don't want any trouble, and we got enough guns and men to give y'all a bloody nose! Turn around and walk off my land and no one gets hurt!" He was appealing to their Texan nature, hoping that it would outweigh their malign sense of duty to the Federation. Not much of a hope, but if he could get a few to turn their guns away, the rest might follow suit.

"That there Yankee came up on private property and slandered the good name of a Texas rancher! Sittin' up on his horse pretty as you please, while the rest of y'all march about to his every beck and call! I ain't a man to put up with his nonsense, and I say y'all shouldn't either! You point those muskets at me and mine, and we'll give as good as we get! Lay 'em down and walk away, and we'll do the same. Hell, lean 'em up on the porch and come in for a glass of lemonade! You look mighty parched from all the walkin' that fat Yank has made you do. How about it?"

Formed up behind him, the militiamen were forming their own battle line on the open stretch of grass in front of the house. Their guns were loaded, though they had no bayonets to fix, at least thirty muskets ready to level and fire. In the house, the boys and women armed with hunting rifles had their sleek muzzles angled upwards, over the heads of the ranks of blue, but were similarly prepared to do the dirty work of battle.

[FS_America]

Spearmint Ranch

The stirring Speech from the rebel commander didn't fall on deaf ears, it fell on mostly uncaring ears the company was made up primerally of troops from the Eastern southern States who had come to Fort hood to receive there training. The Fact that they where all wearing standard issue navy blue uniform showed they where at least three quarters through there training, If they had been anywhere else in their training they would be wearing Karky Training overalls and brandishing old worn out bolt action rifles.

There was the odd Texan in the ranks but on the hole most of them where either from Florida or Philadelphia. No man moved either for fear of being shot if he where to leave the line or from the patriotism they had for the Federated states. If one thing had happened during the war with the Dinosians it had brought the people a little closer together, and many had joined the Ranks to fight with the alien Devils for the love of there country. This hatred had been passed onto the Texans somewhat, the news of Texans wanting succeed from the Federated States had spread like wild fire across America once the tabloids had gotten wind. Many felt that a brother had betrayed them.

Currently the Ranch owner and his comrades had 120 linear muskets pointing at the Ranch house, Even a hand full was enough to bring down an unshielded light bunker in a single volly. Summers trotted up on his horse his revolver in hand back straight looking rather important. He waited until spearmint had finished his offering of free lemonade and biscuits and waited a good few seconds after to start speaking.

"dont listen to that Hick! Summers bellowed Let your aim be true and show these back stabbing brothers what it means to Betray your country! And when our work is done today there will be Beer and women for all! Summers smirked and glanced at Spearmint. Aiming his Revolver at the Ranch owner and roared "FIRE!" as he let off a couple of shots at spearmint with his own weapon, Seconds after the immense clatter of musket fire followed, over 100 Linear muskets with the power to put holes into armoured tanks let loose a volley onto the house, firing by rank the first line fired to quickly duck and reload as they had been drilled the second line following up quickly crouching down and the 3rd and final rank firing.

As they stopped firing the next order rolled off the tongue of the lieutenants. "CHARGE!" Drawing there sabres the Lieutenants charged forth followed closely by a screaming mass of men ready to pile into what was left of the ranch house. Summers him self kicked himself into action charging into the smoke some what hoping spearmint hadn't been hit by his earlier shots he him self wanted the honour of killing him in hand to hand combat.