"... The American people have asked me many questions throughout this conflict: 'How much more does our nation need to suffer to end this war? Why is the government persistent in continuing this ruinous struggle?' And to answer their concerns, I reply with this short answer, 'Because we must.' This war is not a pointless squabble to determine borders and territories, but a clash between the old world and the new world; a clash between the Great Experiment, our beloved republic, and the monarchies of Europe that seek to prove that our experiment is nothing but a failure. These same monarchies attempted to subdue the French Republic in Europe, yet failed to do so. And now, they bring their aggression, their anger, upon our home. But their goal still remains the same. They seek for our submission, our acknowledgment that our nation is beneath theirs. The moment that we make this unthinkable concession, we proclaim to our allies that our ideals are inferior and invalidate republicanism to the rest of the world...

... I have, with full confidence, that we will stand victorious above our enemies by the end of this war. It will not be an easy battle: lives will be lost and our morale will be shaken. Yet we must preserve not only for ourselves but for our allies that lean on us for protection and for future generations that are born in this Shining City on a Hill. Our nation has defeated the British once, with nothing but sweat and blood. We shall defeat them again, this time with steel and fire. Even though the British have numerous allies, we will emerge from our Darkest Hour triumphant...

... Even though our overseas territories are occupied and our southern states are besieged, we shall not flag or fail. We shall go onto the end. We shall fight on the seas and oceans. We shall fight, with growing confidence and strength in the air. We shall defend our home, our Republic, whatever the cost may be! And we shall fight on the beaches. we shall fight in the fields, we shall fight in the streets, and in the jungles. We shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender!"

-We Shall Never Surrender speech given by President Eliyah Peters on November 27th of 1833 in front of both chambers of Congress.

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"...We expected the Americans to give up and sue for terms after we invaded the mainland. Instead, they roared back in defiance.

We should have never awakened the American Colossus. Now it is directing its terrible anger towards our nation, and we are running out of time to finish this war. I am afraid this war is already lost."

-Duke of Wellington's journal entry on December 22nd of 1833.

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Near Lake Miccosukee, Occupied Florida
November 29th, 1833 (24 days after D-Day)

SOCOM operator Corporal Chen You, a member of the 2nd Special Forces Gurkha Battalion, moved swiftly through the jungle with his comrades. The Chinese-American from Xin had to admire his Gurkha compatriots, as they seemingly had an endless supply of stamina and energy. And they were terrifying fighters to boot. If he was asked to paint the perfect soldiers, he would've instantly described the Gurkhas. Nevertheless, he was no slouch when it came to warfare and endurance. He had specially trained with the Gurkha Battalion for over three years now and while he lacked the combat experience some Gurkhas boasted, he believed that he was a capable soldier in his own right. He joined the military four years before the outbreak of the "American British War," mainly due to his preference for physical activities over studies (to the disappointment of his parents). After joining the Army, he was quickly recognized as a potential candidate for the Special Forces due to his excellent physical skills and marksmanship (which he picked up quickly after joining the military). After spending two years in the regular branch of the Army, he passed the SF trials with flying colors and was assigned to the Gurkha Battalion.

He wasn't the only non-Gurkha within the Gurkha Battalion, as there were around three hundred others like him. They were attached to the Gurkha Battalion to learn under some of the best American SOCOM operators, and also due to the fact that there were only around a thousand or so Gurkha soldiers within the United States. Another battalion was being formed under the remaining Gurkhas not assigned to the 2nd Special Forces Battalion. This meant that the Gurkhas in You's battalion were the only Gurkhas directly fighting in the war.

The battalion leader, a Gurkha Major named Manjul Sherpa that hailed from Central Nepal, wordlessly halted the group and signaled for the soldiers to spread out with his hands. Corporal You dove into a nearby bush and cocked his Pelissier Repeating Rifle. He had seven centerfire cartridges loaded into the rifle and he knew with his training, he could fire up to twenty-one rounds a minute. Carefully repositioning himself to fit into the formation set up by the battalion (a half circle with a rearguard), the young special forces member scanned the surrounding areas covered in the night's darkness. The wilderness was silent except for the sound of insects and reptiles, which made the corporal on alert for any sudden noises. Like all SOCOM operators, he was wearing a nearly all-black uniform with a dark green beret on his head, so he wasn't too worried about being spotted due to the lack of moonlight. Even still, he had been drilled in the importance of remaining on his toes at all times, so he was absolutely focused on his surroundings.

Finally, several light footsteps revealed the presence of a small group of people and caused the entire battalion to point their weapons towards the new arrivals. Major Sherpa remained in his hidden position as he quietly called out to them with his Nepalese accented English, "Yankees."

"Don't ask me about the American Series wins, they won dozens. One National Series win, which was in '29 against the Pelicans. The bastards."

Corporal You recognized the verbal exchange. It was a simple, yet fairly effective way of knowing if their "guests" were Americans, since hardly any foreigners followed American baseball. The mentioned series was specific to the area as well (the Pelicans played in St. Augustine). And since they knew where to meet the Gurkha Battalion, it meant they received a message from the battalion leader sometime before.

Though, the Asian soldier was a bit sore that the man hated the Yankees, as they were his home town team.

"If you try anything funny, we'll blast you to pieces." Major Sherpa growled.

"I know," The voice replied.

The major sent a team to inspect the hidden Americans, which included Corporal You. He approached the group with caution and only lowered his rifle after seeing that their contacts (half a dozen whites and blacks) had their weapons on the ground. The Chinese-American patted one of them down and was satisfied after discovering that the man's weapons (an old rifle and a knife) on the ground were the only "dangerous things" on him. After the group finished their inspection, the Gurkhas, and "honorary" Gurkhas, moved the group towards the major. Major Sherpa emerged from the shadows and inspected the partisan group the battalion was looking for, "Your name?"

"Andrew Leger. I'm one of the leaders of the resistance in the area, so to speak."

"You let kids and women fight with you?"

The Xin native had noticed that a woman and a teenager were amongst the group of rebels, but kept his mouth shut to avoid pointless chatter. However, Leger, a large white man with a hardened face, scowled, "Does it matter?"

"The woman? Maybe not so much. The child? Yes."

"This child has a name," The young-looking boy answered, his face trembling, "Leonard Vital, and I have probably killed more men than you..."

"That's enough," Leger said, scolding the boy, "They are here to help us and teach us. Do not berate them."

Major Sherpa watched the exchange without changing his neutral facial expression and merely crossed his arms, "We have food for you as well, along with additional ammunition. Some of my men will run through the front lines during the night to bring back supplies daily. From this point forth, the four companies of the battalion are under the rotation system we discussed before. Two companies will terrorize our enemies, one company will focus on maintaining a small breach in the enemy lines to bring in supplies, and the fourth company will train your group and any other resistance groups we can find. Our job is to unify the resistance fighters and to make the invaders bleed."

Corporal You heard his commanding officer swear something in Nepalese, but he caught the word "British" and "Nepal" in between the Nepalese words. He was probably ranting about the British invasion of Nepal just over two decades ago. Though, there were no British soldiers in this sector since they were towards the very western parts of the occupation zones. Maybe he just despised Europeans in general.

"Then let us move back to our hideout and continue our conversation from there."

"We are already aware of the location of your base and have taken some additional measures to bolster the defenses around the area."

"How?" The rebel asked, his eyes widening at the Gurkhas' statement.

The officer responded to his question with a smile that the corporal had seen too many times before. It basically meant, 'Gurkhas.'

"Alpha and Baker Company, move out. Charlie Company, breach. Delta Company, follow me."

The companies moved like a swarm of bees as they carried out the major's orders, with Corporal You (who was a member of Delta Company) flanking Major Sherpa along with the rest of his unit. As they began to jog into the deeper parts of the jungle, the corporal eyed the feisty black kid from earlier. Despite his age, he looked almost like a veteran and acted like he had seen hell, which he probably had since he had been fighting the invaders for weeks now.

He felt sorry for the kid but cleared his mind as he ran. It wasn't a good time to get distracted.

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AN: Yes, I am aware that President Peters ripped off Churchill.

But uh, it is an inspirational speech. And certainly a loud and clear message to Britain: you can only pry the surrender documents from our cold, dead hands.