Free Prairie Fire by E. K. Johnston

Jefferson’s assertion that conquering Canada and her dragon slayers would be “a mere matter of marching,” American soldiers crossed into Canada to come face to face with the children of those they’d happily tarred and feathered only three decades before. It did not end well for the United States.
    Although technically the British forces merely held off the encroaching Americans, and prevented them from making any gains in terms of land or population, the aftermath of the war had a profound effect on the American territories that were due to join the country as states. The Dakotas, less Minnesota and Wisconsin, and most of Washington Territory, less Wyoming, jumped ship and petitioned the Brits for readmission into the Empire. At the time, the Americans were not particularly sad to see them go. Those territories did not have a lot in the way of resources, and they were expensive to patrol and maintain. Also, the British were willing to pay a portion of the funds the territories had cost in the first place, and since they did that with monies taken from Napoleon, it was all deemed very cyclical and fair.
    Half a century later, when oil became the lifeblood of the west, there was a bit of grumbling in Washington, DC about it, but by then the borders were solid and the citizens of the Dakotas, Montana, and Cascadon were rather happily Canadian.
    Alberta, in more ways than one, came out on top. It no longer had to defend a border against American incursion, and it became the de facto leader of the Oil Coalition, the five provinces for which oil was a primary export. Historians enjoyed theorizing that, were in not for the coalition, Canada’s politics would be much more determined by the central and eastern parts of the country (by which, of course, they meant Ontario), but under Alberta’s guidance, the West became progressively more wealthy, if decidedly less progressive.
    The settlement of Alberta proceeded apace, led by the Canadian Pacific Railway, which laid down the tracks that made east-west transport slightly less arduous, provided you wished to travel from Toronto to Fort Calgary. From there, Alberta spread north, though the train only went as far as Edmonton before apparently deciding that it was too cold to go any further.
    And then, Alberta began to dig. They dug for oil, for gas, and for potash. They clear-cut trees for lumber, though those they did replace with saplings. And the dragons came.
    After the incorporation of the Oil Watch in the 1950s, Canada, as the founder, reserved the right to conscript dragon slayers for Alberta, even though there was no combat there. At the time, Oil Watch founder Lester B. Pearson was so well-liked and respected that no one was going to deny him anything, and it seemed like a very simple request. As the years rolled on, however, and conflict in the Middle East and elsewhere became more concerning, Alberta became less of a priority for the Oil Watch. Thanks to our current Prime Minister, Canada was enjoying its least popular time as a member of the UN, and as a result, only the most troublesome, most unreliable dragon slayers were sent to defend Canada’s oil.
    Thus it was that when Owen Thorskard left CFB Gagetown and struck out for the west, it was with considerable lack of enthusiasm on the part of his support squad. Their goodwill towards Owen, not to mention towards me, had not faded entirely, but I knew that they couldn’t help but view our assignment as a punishment, and each of them was wondering how they’d screwed up to get assigned to a dragon slayer who was clearly in such bad grace.
    The cornet-sergeant came to the train platform to see us off, something he’d not done for any of the other departing squads. Around me, everyone straightened in spite of themselves.
    â€œThese are difficult times,” he said. “Things are changing and the government doesn’t want them to. They’re sending you out there because