Turmoil has engulfed the American Republic. Eleven Southern states have declared their intentions to leave the faltering Union.
This separatist movement, under the leadership of Jefferson Davis, has made reconciliation impossible. To the South, it is a matter of independence or death.
While the Congress of the Republic endlessly debates, President Lincoln has announced the formation of the Army of the Republic, to crush the rebels and restore order to America...
----------------
November 25, 1859
Temporary CS Capital, Charleston, South Carolina
President Davis sighed and rubbed his temples. The declaration of war from the North had been nearly the worst thing that could've happened now.
At least we got the Constitution approved before that. Davis thought. Opening his eyes, the Southern President tuned back in to the discussions of his advisors.
"You can't be serious, man! We don't have the manpower or the resources to invade the North!"
"Well, what do you suggest? We dig in like rats and just hope the Yankees go away after a while?"
Davis inwardly groaned. Same discussion, over and over for the last three hours. Apparently, everyone had been expecting Lincoln to let the South go in peace. Davis snorted. Not damn likely.
And then, the conversation died, as though snuffed out by the chilling winds outside. Every eye turned to the doorway of the Presidential Office, where two men stood, clad in robes.
President Davis' eyes lit up. "General Lee, I presume." The advisors were shocked. Could this really be him?
Lee smiled lightly. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. President. This is my friend, Thomes Jackson." The other man nodded politely to the President.
Davis grinned, visibly brightened. "I assume you have a plan already, General."
Lee nodded. "Yes. Gentlemen, we hold a bare advantage over the North now. We must exploit this. If we wait too long, or settle for a defensive war, the North will only grow stronger and stronger, until it obtains the power to crush us."
"We must strike while the advantage is still ours."
-----------
The White House
Washington, DC
President Lincoln glowered through the windows of the Oval Office. The Potamic was now the border with those damned rebels. He turned the chair to face the man waiting patiently in the center of the room.
"General Grant." Lincoln growled. "I assume you know why I summoned you"
Grant nodded. "It's Lee, isn't it? He's joined the rebels."
Lincoln nodded. "The South is economically inferior to us. We can marshall more of everything, given time. Grant, you must stop Lee. Halt his plans. Delay the rebels until our greater force can be brought to bear. The survival of the Republic depends on that."
Grant nodded. "Yes, Mr. President. I will stop the Rebels."
"Good. Your command awaits, General."
Grant left, and the Northern President was left alone in his office. Thoughtful, he reached for his coffee, and -
"AIDE!" bellowed the President, prompting a harried-looking young man to charge in. "Y-yes, sir?"
Lincoln glared at him. "I don't...take sugar...in my coffee...." He raised his hand, and the aide was lifted into the air, choking.
"N-no, please, sir, have mer-gggaackkk!!"
As the aide crumpled, Lincoln glowered once again out the windows.
"There'll be no one to stop me this time..."
---------
The opening moves of the South.
This separatist movement, under the leadership of Jefferson Davis, has made reconciliation impossible. To the South, it is a matter of independence or death.
While the Congress of the Republic endlessly debates, President Lincoln has announced the formation of the Army of the Republic, to crush the rebels and restore order to America...
----------------
November 25, 1859
Temporary CS Capital, Charleston, South Carolina
President Davis sighed and rubbed his temples. The declaration of war from the North had been nearly the worst thing that could've happened now.
At least we got the Constitution approved before that. Davis thought. Opening his eyes, the Southern President tuned back in to the discussions of his advisors.
"You can't be serious, man! We don't have the manpower or the resources to invade the North!"
"Well, what do you suggest? We dig in like rats and just hope the Yankees go away after a while?"
Davis inwardly groaned. Same discussion, over and over for the last three hours. Apparently, everyone had been expecting Lincoln to let the South go in peace. Davis snorted. Not damn likely.
And then, the conversation died, as though snuffed out by the chilling winds outside. Every eye turned to the doorway of the Presidential Office, where two men stood, clad in robes.
President Davis' eyes lit up. "General Lee, I presume." The advisors were shocked. Could this really be him?
Lee smiled lightly. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. President. This is my friend, Thomes Jackson." The other man nodded politely to the President.
Davis grinned, visibly brightened. "I assume you have a plan already, General."
Lee nodded. "Yes. Gentlemen, we hold a bare advantage over the North now. We must exploit this. If we wait too long, or settle for a defensive war, the North will only grow stronger and stronger, until it obtains the power to crush us."
"We must strike while the advantage is still ours."
-----------
The White House
Washington, DC
President Lincoln glowered through the windows of the Oval Office. The Potamic was now the border with those damned rebels. He turned the chair to face the man waiting patiently in the center of the room.
"General Grant." Lincoln growled. "I assume you know why I summoned you"
Grant nodded. "It's Lee, isn't it? He's joined the rebels."
Lincoln nodded. "The South is economically inferior to us. We can marshall more of everything, given time. Grant, you must stop Lee. Halt his plans. Delay the rebels until our greater force can be brought to bear. The survival of the Republic depends on that."
Grant nodded. "Yes, Mr. President. I will stop the Rebels."
"Good. Your command awaits, General."
Grant left, and the Northern President was left alone in his office. Thoughtful, he reached for his coffee, and -
"AIDE!" bellowed the President, prompting a harried-looking young man to charge in. "Y-yes, sir?"
Lincoln glared at him. "I don't...take sugar...in my coffee...." He raised his hand, and the aide was lifted into the air, choking.
"N-no, please, sir, have mer-gggaackkk!!"
As the aide crumpled, Lincoln glowered once again out the windows.
"There'll be no one to stop me this time..."
---------
The opening moves of the South.