Eastburn, Jefferson, the United States of America (Occupied by the Alliance)

February 19th, 1834

Lance Corporal Aston Davidson lifted a section of the fencing and planted it firmly into the ground. Nearby, dozens of British soldiers, along with hundreds of Indian troops, were setting up various tents and enclosures for the first "concentration camp" in the occupied American territory called Jefferson. The idea came from the east, as the Spanish and French were setting up their own concentration camps out in Florida (apparently, there were two camps in the area already and they held thousands of American prisoners). Originally, the British officers were going to force the Americans to carry out the grunt work, but after two consecutive revolts that resulted in the proposed camp being burned down twice, they were forced to relegate British and Indian troops to the project. Privately, Lance Corporal Davidson was glad for the short respite, as the war had been harsh on him and his unit so far. He had been shot at constantly during his time in America, even when he was resting in his barracks. The Americans were like angry hornets that constantly swarmed around the Alliance soldiers and took any opportunity to attack and create chaos.

"Lance Corporal Davidson!"

The young man turned to see his sergeant walk up to him with a scowl. He cleared his throat and ensured that his stockade was even before turning to greet his NCO, "Yes, sergeant?"

"Grab your gear and follow me. Lieutenant Young wants a few of the rebels inside this camp as soon as possible."

"I'll get to it right away," Lance Corporal Davidson replied. He had no qualms with shoving a few of those upstart Americans in the camp, especially after all he had suffered throughout this bloody invasion.

After grabbing his rifle and his pouch, the veteran followed his sergeant and a dozen other soldiers to a nearby farmhouse where a number of Americans were being held captive. Lance Corporal Davidson looked at the dozen or so men and women gathered in the room and frowned. He recognized three of them from a previous raid, in which a group of American guerrillas attempted to burn down his regiment's barracks and killed a few British soldiers. Unfortunately, that raid also burned a good bit of the loot he had saved up and killed one of the few men that he befriended in the unit. His face made a predatory grin as he realized that they were unarmed and unable to resist, while he was backed by the might of His Majesty's Army and armed with a rifle.

"Shove them into one of the completed huts and force them to work dig some trenches outside the camp," The sergeant stated as he roughly pushed one of the rebels off his feet, "If they don't comply, beat them."

The lance corporal obliged and forced one of his former attackers, a Negro, off his feet. When the man stumbled to get up, Davidson slammed his back with the butt of his rifle, "On your feet!"

"I'm damn well trying," The captured partisan mumbled as he gasped in pain from the hit, "Give me a second."

When the British soldier attempted to strike the man again, the dark-skinned American rose to his feet quickly and tried to wrestle the rifle away from his captor. However, Lance Corporal Davidson, with months of combat experience and alertness drilled into him, fired the moment he saw a hint of resistance. The Negro fell to the ground with a gaping hole in his chest. There wasn't any doubt that he was dead.

The remaining half a dozen British soldiers, along with the rest of the captives, looked at the dead partisan in shock. The sergeant had already left for the camp with his own prisoner, so Lance Corporal Davidson didn't shy away from threatening the detainees, "You try to resist, and we won't hesitate to shoot. Understood?"

Despite the defiance in the eyes of some of the prisoners, most of them quickly nodded as their eyes glanced over the dead man's body. Davidson kicked one of the hostages and scowled. After seeing that his new captive was a white man, the lance corporal dragged the man onto his feet and pushed him a little bit more lightly, though not by much, "Now move!"

Within an hour, a dozen American prisoners were slaving away outside of their new home and digging trenches for no obvious discernable reasons. For some reason, that made Lance Corporal Davidson put extra effort into his part of building up the camp. After all, if all the Americans were rounded up and placed in these camps, then they wouldn't be able to shoot at him when he passed by a "pacified" area. With that thought, he hammered in another section of the fencing which was to keep the American prisoners from escaping.

And if a few of them died in the camps, well... That was war. And they were civilians that were shooting at them, which made them fair game to all the horrors of war.