Notes: This started out as just a sort of writing exercise for myself, to help me get back into the habit of writing, now that my life has calmed down more (I can't walk too well right now, but that's not doesn't really hinder my ability to write). Originally, I tasked myself to try and write without pausing, and this is the cleaned up, and more fleshed out, word vomit that resulted.

I kind of like the ideas I have for this little thing, but my main focus is still going to be on my story currently known as Antivirus in particular, and my full Tron works in general, so I can't, and won't guarantee how soon this will be updated. If I was being well-behaved, I wouldn't even be posting this until I had something else done, but it was at a good stopping point for me, and I've been having a bit of trouble with my story most likely to be finished first.

I'm terrible when it comes to naming stories, so suggestions, or any comments, are plenty welcome. I have no beta, inasmuch as I look over my own works, so if you see errors, or something seems to be worded strangely to you, please feel free to inform me, so that I can improve.

Unfamiliar Skies

Chapter 1

The life of Steve Rogers had been filled with several brief moments in time that drastically changed the course of his future:

"I've got another three on my scanners; two from the northwest, and one from the south. I'm en route northwest; Cap, you good for the south?"

The death of his mother.

"Copy that, Iron Man. I'm on my way. Hawkeye, Widow, what's your status?"

Meeting Bucky.

"Strike team neutralized, but I'm down to two arrows. Nat's with me; we're falling back to resupply. Where should we join the party when we're done?"

Being chosen as the first test subject for the Super Soldier Serum.

"See if you can get access to that tower; with that – Whoa! - height, you can cover most of the city. … Widow, how are you with explosives?"

Storming his first HYDRA base with little more than a couple of stage props and his wits.

"Disabling, or using?"

Spying a nondescript metal circle under a table.

"Preferably disarming, but if you'd – CLANG! – to use them against our 'friends', it would definitely make getting through their armor easier."

Crashing into the ice.

"Understood. I'm on my way."

Waking up again.

"Belay that; enemy air transport just flew over, heading for the target. Can you intercept?"

Holding a stack of bloodied cards.

"Only if Clint can hobble them for me."

Shaking a hand, and shaking off the soot from a bridge that wasn't quite as burned as he'd feared.

"Limping transport coming right up. … – BOOM! – ."

There were others, of course – a person's life was just a long series of brief moments, after all – but those were probably the most influential in shaping what sort of person he was so far.

"I know you all missed me, but I'm back. What needs doing?"

During some of those times, he was aware of just how much it was going to change him.

"What's the evacuation status?"

Other times were more... subtle.

"The last three workers are refusing to leave until they save their work and shut their terminals down. … And at least one of our non-armored buddies has made it inside; I just caught him on the first basement cameras."

The team's first run in with a new flavor of terrorist – these ones of the rather ridiculously dressed, but extremely destructive variety- was a month ago.

"You've got the superior firepower for armored units, so come trade with me."

They'd attacked a remote R&D facility for a computer software company that Steve had never heard of, though that was still hardly surprising.

"You're good to go, Caps Lock. I have this itch to test out our friends' armor against high-speed impacts."

It didn't make sense, until they were informed of the company's lesser-known government and military contracts.

"Moving out... … … – CRUNCH!... CRASH! – Nice hit; I don't think their armor's rated for that kind of force."

They were a new-old bidder returning to designing guidance systems, targeting programs, and researching a few other projects with excess funding that had once been allocated to Stark Industries, when it still made weapons.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Cap. Two more incoming from the south; I've got this."

The attacks had started up right after a supposedly secure notification had been sent from the company to the government, about a collection of interrelated discoveries that could, eventually, potentially, completely redefine transportation, medicine, agriculture, combat, and nearly everything in between.

"Not if I shoot them first, Tin Man."

When asked for details about the research in question, the company became evasive, hesitant to reveal any solid data that might allow someone to recreate their work thus far, but insistent on its importance.

"Heading through basement access – That is a Big door – toward the labs. Which ones are the scientists in?"

None of that particular research was being funded by the government's money, so they didn't have any concrete proof until SHIELD recovered security tapes stolen by the terrorists as part of their build up to the first attack.

"They're all in Laser Bay 2. And Cap? Double-time it; I've now confirmed two – scratch that, four – hostiles heading right for them."

It showed a pallet of rice being wheeled into one of the company's smaller labs, and over the course of the next fifteen minutes, thirty were wheeled back out, which took up more space dimension-wise than the lab itself, twice over.

"Roger that."

After the first attack – which thankfully never made it to the lab itself, somehow – there was a breach in the lab's security, and all pertinent lab equipment disappeared.

"I'm bringing the transport in for a hard landing. I'll double back to the target to assist you afterward, Cap."

It was only well after the fact, when SHIELD may or may not have been panicking, that the company chairman – one on a list of people that could be counted on one hand with fingers to spare that knew the entirety of the nature of the research – informed them that they'd taken the liberty of moving the research to a more secure location.

"Sir, I've established connection with the building's PA system."

No one had been expecting the move, including the terrorists.

"Open up the connection to Laser Bay 2. Those scientists need to get themselves in gear."

It helped, for a while.

"... need to hurry. Once you're in, take jets, hop a transport, I don't care; they'll want your Discs, so get out of the system so they can't find you. And be careful. ..."

Soon enough, though, SHIELD learned where they moved it to.

"... How should I contact – CLANK! - They're here. - CLANK! - We'll text you; reply when it's clear. ..."

And so did the terrorists.

"Hostiles have reached the lab, Cap."

The implication of a leak in SHIELD security became a somewhat lesser priority, though, because the new lab was in the basement of the company's main corporate office, in the heart of Los Angeles.

"And so have I. - CLANG!... CLANK-CRASH! -"

The terrorists had already proven themselves quick to escalate to causing a good deal of collateral damage to both people and property in their attempted assaults.

"Cap? I'm entering the building now; I'll be at your location in five minutes."

The basement was heavily fortified, due to the sensitive, and potentially dangerous research that typically went on there. It would be a tough nut to crack, without using enough explosives to level half the city.

"Stop! Look out!"

Luckily – or not, depending on viewpoint – the terrorists seemed to have been concerned with destroying some or all of the research in the blasts.

"- THUD! BZZZZZAP-ZAP-ZAP-ZA-!"

So they brought a large, technologically advanced army instead.

"... - BANG! BANG-BOOM! ...THWACK! THUD! -"

There had been many moments in his life that changed Steve Rogers' future.

"How are you holding up down there, Bottle Cap?"

They each could have turned out differently.

"Cap?"

Sometimes he could mentally prepare himself.

"Captain?"

This time, he was prepared, but not at all for what happened.

"... Steve?"