Gettysburg, Pennsylvania July 3, 1863

The battle was going poorly, that much clear. The lines of Federal troops were pushing the chaotic grey formations back across the field under heavy musket fire. Bodies of both blue and grey littered the grass amidst the smoke and screams. Cannon roared across the sky, thundering as its canisters exploded on impact, cutting down a Union firing line in an explosion of fire and blood.

From the safety and cover of the nearby wood, Captain Will Slade steadied his horse, a black courser called Liberty, who had been his constant companion for the past three years. Dressed in the faded grey of the 1st Virginia Cavalry, saber at his side and with a pair of Colt Dragoons, he was decidedly un-officer to his fellow comrades. He was young and at twenty five, the youngest officer of the troop. His ash blonde hair fell to his neck line and his pale blue eyes had a hardness that came with seeing too much war. They awaited the word that General J.E.B. Stuart was expecting to give them, the order to charge. A small farm lay across the field, owned by a named Rummel.

On the other side, the Yankees were lurking around there somewhere. Around him, his cavalry troop prepared to charge, drawing their sabers in unison.

His Brigadier, Fitzhugh Lee trotted down the line, raising his saber high. He was a tall and broad shouldered man, complete with a thick red beard that gave him a wild look. For years, Lee had been the light by which the troop had been guided, a true leader and believer in the Cause. Will had never been one to spurn a man for his beliefs but at heart, he was no fanatic; he fought for the Confederacy for the reason most men were doing, because he was a damn fool.

"It's been a long few days, men. I know this as well as any man but to hell with that! we're here to show these Yankee boys how to fight aren't we?!" he shouted, eliciting a battle cry from his men. Will found himself joining in, despite the progress of the day's fighting.

"Our boys have had a tough go of it for sure, but we are still in this fight!Everett reared his horse up, forcing another battle cry. Then he spun his horse around and aimed for the outer fence of the farmland.

"Follow me, boys! I'll see you on the other side!" Brigadier Lee kicked his horse onward, galloping ahead of the troop. Spurring their mounts forward, they whooped and hollered, whirling their swords over their heads. Charging headlong in the smoke, the cared little for what lay on the other side. Slade had drawn his own sword as he galloped, staying low to his horse. Both his Colts were cocked and ready to be drawn when the time came.

He could see nothing but the cries of war and shouts of victory were plain enough. The smoke stung his eyes but he pressed onward, determined to clear the fog and make for the farm.

The smoke cloud abruptly ended and the musket fire opened up in earnest. Rounds cracked by and overhead, many of them finding their mark in both man and horse. Mounts reared and threw their rider off, dead from the multiple inflicted gunshots. The blue coats were just barely visible on the other side of the fence line, all cavalry and sporting the new Spencer rifles. A seemingly endless barrage of fire halted the charge in its place, ending any hope

"Get 'em boys! For the Bonnie Blue Flag!" he heard someone shout. Slade charged into the barrage, staying low so as not to present a target. Drawing one of his Colts, he fired blindly the Union line to keep their heads down. The trooper next to him screamed and fell off his horse, shot through the jaw. As he cocked the hammer back to fire, a musket ball slammed into his shoulder, blood exploding on his cheek.

He lost control of the reigns, his horse coming to an abrupt halt. To his left, he saw a charging Union cavalrymen heading for him. Despite the pain, Slade raised the revolver and took the attacking trooper in the shoulder, forcing him to reel away. A musket ball cracked by his head and Slade spotted the man who just fired it, shooting him down. Around him, the charge was stopped completely and the Union cavalrymen were taking to the field. It was butcher's work from here on, Slade knew and had lived it many times before.

"You men, there! Don't give them an inch!" shouted Brigadier Lee, his saber and uniform bloody. Will was inspired by the sight and reacquire the Union troop, frantically reloading his musket.

He charged the man who fired at him, cutting him down as he tried to run. As he turned to rejoin his troop, an artillery canister landed several feet from him and exploded. The explosion deafened him and his mount reared up and threw him backwards in a cloud of smoke and red hot shrapnel. Will felt something pierce his shoulder and warm liquid ran down his face.

Laying on the ground, he could only hear the ringing in his ears. Struggling to move, the world seemed to slow down around him; his troop was retreating from the artillery barrage and another Union line was approaching. Managing to turn over, he witnessed a fellow trooper fall under a barrage of musket fire, bloody holes blossoming on his grey uniform. Dropping his saber, he tumbled from his horse to the ground.

Seemingly unhurt by the explosion, Will's horse had taken off in the direction of his fellow retreating comrades. Brigadier Lee was rallying what remained of the troop, calling them to retreat. Hooves thundered around him, abandoning him on the ground. Pain shot through him as he pulled himself up, drawing one of his Colt Dragoons. Thumbing the hammer back, a line of dismounted Union cavalry charged at the retreating Confederates. They approached Will, yelling their battle cries.

Will fired and took the nearest man down and sighted in the on the next. The Colt Dragoon was large gun, an update of the older Colt Walker and was infinitely more reliable. Musket and rifle shots kicked up dirt around him and one slammed into his side, dropping him to one knee. He fired again, taking the man who had just shot him.

As the soldiers approached, Slade grabbed the nearest rifle and yanked it from the man's hands. Slamming the butt into the soldier's stomach, doubling him over, Slade turned in time and deflected the saber aimed for him chest and drove him to the ground. Swinging his rifle like a club, he smashed into the soldier's temple with a crack, snapping his head to the side. Slade sensed something behind him. He slipped into a feeling of weightlessness and felt himself moving but could not control it, as if someone else was guiding him.

Spinning to face the oncoming threat, it was a Union officer raising his saber for the kill. He saw the murderous intent in him and in a strange way, could feel it burning in him. He grabbed for the officer's sword hand, kept it from striking a killing blow and with his free hand tore the officer's pistol from his holster.

He fired and fired and fired, each shot bucking the pistol in his hand. The officer's eyes went wide in pain and went slack as he toppled over. Something hard slammed into him as blue coated trooper attempted to hold him down while his comrades readied to execute him. Slamming his foot down on his boot, Slade forced the trooper to release and whirled him around to be a human shield as the soldiers fired. The bullets blossomed like bloody roses on his chest, and Will was on the move.

"You sonofabitch! You made us kill our friend!" one of them shouted as they attempted to reload their rifles. With one good hand, Will was able to draw his remaining Colt Dragoon and moving like he had never before, neatly gunned down the remaining three troopers.

"Reb bastard" Slade heard someone yell when something slammed into his head, darkening the world around him. As he slipped into the dark, Will could only ask what in the hell had happened to him.