Author's Note: Okay! Finally have the groundwork for my sequel! If you're just joining us and haven't read the prequel, "Time's Up," I'd highly suggest it so you know more of what's going on! If not, that's cool too. But I'm not going to explain everything to you. So. Really, it's in your best interest, bro-ski. (I'm sorry for that name (no I'm not))
Anyway! Here we go! Into 'history'... -E
BASIC NEW MINOR CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS (just so we don't get too lost)
Major General Andrew Fletcher, Union Chief of Staff
Major General Daniel Sickles, has a personal vendetta against Tony Stark for replacing Major General Meade (whom he had an allegiance to)
Brigadier General William Pendleton, Chief of Artillery
"Alright," Nick Fury began, holding a clipboard and looking it over. "This will be a training exercise to see what you'll be willing to do when faced with difficult situations. The simulation will take you back in time to the Civil War era in America's history. Each of you will be randomly assigned a rank in either the Confederate or Union army. You will have no control which team you're on, you will have no control which rank you are given. All you need to do is fight until the battle is won. The battle you will be fighting in is the Battle of Gettysburg. This battle lasted 3 days, so try not to die on the first day; I don't want to listen to anyone complaining about how bored they are for three days."
"Okay, but isn't this unfair?" Tony crossed his arms, a scowl on his face. "That battle was won by the Union, so whoever's on the Confederate side is obviously going to lose."
"The history of the battle won't determine the outcome of the winner in the simulation. So it's anyone's battle to win," Fury told him, raising his eyebrow. "Anyone else have any questions?"
"This one won't be scary, will it?" Bruce asked almost timidly.
"No."
"Will we have our weapons with us in battle?"
"In this simulation, it was decided that everyone will be equally matched," Fury looked between everyone standing around him. "So that means no powers, no hulk, no special weapons, no tech…"
"Wait," Steve piped in nervously. "What about-"
"We're not going to revert you back to what you were before the serum," Fury assured him. "But you will be taken down to the strength and speed of the average man."
"Okay, good," Steve nodded, clearly relieved.
"If there are no other questions, everyone find their pod," Fury nodded to the pods and waited for everyone to lay in their pods. "Going in simulation in 3…" The lids to the pods shut and sealed. "2… 1. Good luck."
Gasping softly, Tony sat straight upright in his uncomfortable bed, the sounds of screaming and gunfire meeting his ears. Blinking a few times and rubbing his eyes, he looked around, confused. Where was he? This medieval-looking dump clearly wasn't the clean mansion he was used to waking up in. There was a frantic knock at the door coupled with a voice.
"Major General! Major General!"
"Maj-what-gen-what what?" He asked sleepily, slowly crawling out of the stiff bed.
"Major General Stark! The city is under attack!" It was at that moment an all-too-close gunshot sounded, causing Tony to realize what was happening. The simulation! Starting towards the door, Tony noticed the hideous nightgown he was wearing and glanced around desperately for a less-embarrassing change of clothes.
"J… Just a second!" He called through the door as he grabbed a blue military uniform off the end of the bed.
July 1, 1863: 1200
"We have reinforcements coming in from the North," Major General Fletcher explained to the small group of men in front of him. "With their help, we should be able to minimize civilian casualties and stop this battle before it really begins."
"And if the reinforcements don't help?" Major General Daniel Sickles chimed into the conversation. There were four men surrounding a table in a small make-shift officer's meeting room, the sounds of an all-too-near battle going on in the background. "If our Major General Stark is unable to lead us to victory through this assault?" Clearing his throat loudly, Tony gave Sickles a look.
"I'd ask you not to make harsh judgements regarding my leadership skills…" trailing off, he realized he had no idea who any of the men surrounding him were, and had no idea what to call the one insulting him. "..Sir…"
"Major General Sickles," the man informed him quickly, irritation clear in his voice. Turning to Fletcher, he spoke as if the two men were alone. "Major General Fletcher, how are we supposed to expect this man to lead an army if he can't accomplish a task as simple as remembering the names of his officers?" Giving him a long, hard look, Fletcher sighed quietly, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.
"Sickles, none of us are going to get anywhere besides a shallow grave if this army's leading officers can't get along."
"And I got along perfectly fine with Major General Meade," Sickles spat out, giving another glare to Tony.
"Woah, woah there," Tony finally interrupted. "I think Flitcher over here-"
"Fletcher."
"Fletcher, thank you," he corrected quickly before continuing on with his point. "I think Fletcher has a point." Sickles raised his eyebrows slowly, clearly judging everything that came out of Tony's mouth. "If our leading officers can't get along and come up with plans that we all agree on, we're just going to end up running this army straight into the ground. Think of about it. All those people- all those deaths- would be on our heads." Sickles watched Tony for a long time as the men sat in silence. After what could have passed for hours, Sickles looked down at the map on the table.
"So these reinforcements," Sickles continued the conversation before the argument. "They're coming-"
"From the North," Fletcher interrupted, leaning over the table slightly to place his finger on the map. "Here."
"Alright…"
"And if they're able to get here without incident, God willing, they should be here within two hour's time."
"So basically," Tony kept glancing over the map. "Basically we have to keep our men alive, the civilians alive… Without any help for the next two hours or so. Shouldn't be too hard, right?" He asked optimistically, earning weird looks from the three other men. "Right?"
"Major General," the fourth man, Brigadier General Williams finally spoke up. "We have only a small number of soldiers in the city, with thousands of civilians to protect. Our men not only have to keep themselves alive, the civilians alive, but they also have to try and keep the 'feds out of the city. That's no easy feat!"
"Williams is right, sir," Fletcher crossed his arms. "And even then, its still easier said than done. We need a plan. A strategy. And we need one now. We have no time to waste bickering."
"So," Sickles looked at Tony. "What do we do?" Tony could feel sweat drip down the side of his forehead, not only from the July heat and impossibly heavy uniform, but from the pressure of the responsibility given to him. His head seemed to be completely empty, besides one sentence running through it over and over. 'Why couldn't I have been a lower ranking officer?!' Looking down at the map again, his mind began racing. 'There are thousands of lives on the line, what if I completely fuck this up? Then it's my fault they're all- Tony, this is a simulation, calm down. Calm down. It's like a game. Just… Play the game…'
"What we know," Tony began, pointing at the map. "Is there are Confederate troops here… Here… And here. Their goal is to pretty much just wipe out our army, right? They don't care who they kill, as long as it's not their own. They're trying to get into the city. They're trying to get to our people. So: if we evacuate this half of the city and place our troops, say… Here, here… And here… We can lure them into the very outskirts of the city. If we have some of troops inside some of the buildings here- not all, just some- we can have the element of surprise on our side. They'll have no idea where our men are coming from." The men watched as he continued to point at different spots on the map, listening adamantly to his plan.
"And if they go in the buildings to find our men?" Sickles questioned, picking at his lip with his finger and thumb.
"We have some hiding out for that exact reason," Fletcher interrupted quickly, drawing out where they would be with his finger on the map. "Here. We station men on the tops of the buildings here to simply pick them off as they try to get inside."
"Brilliant," Tony suppressed a grin as he looked up at Fletcher.
"And it would only have to be for a few hours anyway," Fletcher continued. "I'm sure this plan could work until the reinforcements got here…"
"This… Could actually work," Williams agreed, nodding his head slowly, his arms crossed. "It's insane, but it could work."
"At least until reinforcements arrive," Sickles said. "Then we should come up with a more concrete plan of action."
"Absolutely," Tony agreed, not wanting to start another fight.
"Alright," Williams uncrossed his arms and saluted the men, who returned the salute (Tony not realizing what was going on at first, quickly realizing what to do and accidentally chopping himself in the forehead). "I'll let them know the plan." As they all dropped the salute, he span on his heel and walked out of the room quickly. Glancing around awkwardly Tony made an attempt to make small talk.
"So," the started, grimacing slightly at himself. "That… General Lee guy. What a dick, am I right?" He laughed awkwardly only to get confused looks from Fletcher and Sickles.
"General… Lee?" Sickles questioned.
"Yeah? Confederate General Robert E. Lee?" Tony's face matched theirs in confusion. "The… The General responsible for this attack?" The two men in front of him exchanged glances before looking back at Tony.
"We don't know of a 'General Robert E. Lee,'" Fletcher explained. "But it is a General Robert that's in charge of the Confederates attacking us. 'General Robert B. Banner.'" Tony's jaw dropped slightly in shock as he stared at the men. After a few moments of silence, he turned his head away, swearing.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he flailed his arms slightly and looked at the ceiling, as if that was where the people watching the simulation were. "Really?!"
