“Sir … open broadcast from the Sovereign, all frequencies.” Commander Slas reports.

  I blink rapidly as my mind tries to catch up with itself. Finally I manage to blurt out my thoughts: “Play it.”

  It’s Tarkin who speaks, his voice cold as ice and his holographic depiction stern with fire in his eyes: “Attention people of Mon Cala, the assassination of Ambassador Telvar is unacceptable behavior from your government. For this reason this world is placed under cordon. Evacuate to your homes as Imperial forces secure your rebellious leadership. Resistance will be punished severely and anyone found to be harboring the Jedi known as Ferren Barr will be detained and sentenced to death. This is your one and only chance for a semi-conditional surrender,”

  The hologram goes out and my thoughts whir. My eyes flick to the ISB Captain standing behind me and the two new Stormtroopers standing at attention at the bridge doors. I inhale deeply as I consider everything. We weren’t ready, not in the slightest. My 120th also couldn’t fight the Mon Cala, there would be a mutiny from those eager to rebel now. I had to tread very carefully now.

  “Hail Tarkin. Now.” I order. My voice calm despite the panic building in my chest.

  “We’ve received an order package.” Commander Slas says, her brows furrowed.

  “What is it?”

  “We are to move between the Mon Cala Merchant Fleet and the Imperial Star Destroyers. We are to wait half an hour before Imperial troops are deployed to the surface.” Commander Slas relays.

  “Well then, seems you should get moving, Admiral.” The ISB Captain says with a smile.

  “Fine. Standard line formation, Little Revenge on point, Constellation on our starboard and Hammerhead cruisers to the portside flank. We’ve drilled this line a thousand times so hop to. Keep strikecraft in our hangar bays until I order otherwise and arm concussion missiles asap.”

  “Those won’t do much against their shields.” Mi-Kus advises vaguely.

  “I know that, but other than the Constellation’s heavy turbolasers and the three heavy ion cannons from the 111th’s Dreadnoughts, they’re our only long range weapons. Not sure why the kark Tarkin’s keeping his ISDs in reserve.” I mutter.

  “Should you be questioning your superiors like that, Admiral?” The ISB fuck says.

  I turn on him lightening fast and get up in his face: “Should you be questioning your betters, Captain? Unlike Tarkin who has just escalated negotiations and a possible Separatist terror attack into a planetary invasion, I am simply questioning his sheer brazenness. You meanwhile are undermining the flow of the bridge and I have dueled a man to near death for less.”

  His eyes narrow slightly but he steps back and bows his head in submission: “Very well, sir.”

  I return my attention to the situation at hand: “Slas, hail Mayor Raddus. Maybe we can stop any bloodshed from happening.”

  “On it, Fleet Admiral.”

  I gaze out the transparasteel viewport to see the three Imperials adjusting their positioning to be leering down at Coral city. What was Tarkin doing!?

  “We must deploy the city shields now!” Ackbar barks.

  “Not to mention evacuate the people to within the city ships.” Chief Ri adds.

  “Best deploy the militias and Royal Guard as well.” Senator Tills adds.

  Raddus remains silent as the young King considers everything. Finally King Lee-Char, eighty third King of the polity of Dac, Palatine of Mon Cala, Shield of her Colonies, Master and Commander of the Merchant Fleet, Liberator, Unifier and Chief of the Mon Calamari makes a gesture to silence all those present.

  “Has Fleet Admiral Dericote done anything?”

  Raddus replies immediately: “He has positioned his forces between ours and Tarkin’s. He has informed my office, in code, that he is being watched and remembers his oaths. He will attempt to find peace and keep Tarkin from doing anything rash if he can.”

  “Rash?” Ackbar says, “What could be more rash than what he already done? We are facing a planetary invasion!”

  “It certainly doesn’t help that Sir Barr has fled the capitol with his acolytes. We cannot even hand him over if we wished to.” Chief Ri says solemnly.

  “We … raise the city shields. Evacuate our people. Deploy the Merchant Fleet, but keep the Home One in reserve. Inform the Colonies of what is occurring and request the New Heurkea and Pride of Ruisto make for Mon Cala post haste, but to hold off from engaging the Imperials unless ordered otherwise by my person or Mayor Raddus.” The King orders, then pauses, “I am also activating the militias and Merchant Fleet. I herewith award Captain Ackbar the Captain Generalcy of our forces and formally appointing Mayor Raddus the wartime to the Fleet Admiralcy of our Merchant Fleet.

  “If that is all, my liege, I shall move to my flagship and deploy the Merchant Fleet in a defensive position. We will not fire on the 120th unless forced to and assist in the evacuations of the surface cities immediately.” Raddus says.

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  “Yes, we mustn't allow our human subjects to suffer from our strategies. I shall give the evacuation announcement now.” The King decides.

  “I shall rally the Quarren militia.” Chief Ri says.

  “I’ll prepare the Mon Calamari militia and the Knights of Mon Cala.” Ackbar says.

  “Very well. For all of our world’s children.” King Lee-Char says.

  “For Mon Cala.”-“For Dac.”

  I keep my eyes fixed on the Home One as the first shuttles and landing craft descend from the bowels of the Imperial Star Destroyers towards Dac. I felt shame in that moment. What was I supposed to do in a moment like this? We weren’t ready, we still needed to stockpile munitions, adjust personnel, gather food and fuel and medicine. Smuggle the remnants of the coup from Coruscant. Negotiate with the Separatist remnants in the Tion Cluster. Approach the various pirates of the Cronese Mandate. Make further connections within the Core. Approach other active rebels.

  We needed more time.

  I could have worked with another year, been prepared, if not fully ready. I should be able to suss out Bvinsk’s and Krugwolt’s loyalties by then, maybe even those of their higher ranking officers. In a year’s time around half the Merchant Fleet would have been retrofitted to proper battleships. In two years time the entire Merchant Fleet would be ready. I would have prepared entire worlds to be fortresses within the Empire. In two years I would have been ready.

  But instead I was here. A paltry week into the new year, barely half a year of paltry preparations behind me. Sure, there was a hole with a few supports, but the foundations hadn’t even been poured in! Never mind the house! I was stuck! And I needed more time!

  I inhale deeply then exhale in a hiss.

  But was I willing to burn my relationship with Dac for it? Would doing nothing destroy any relationship I had with the world below? Would those who I would call brothers in arms forgive me for my inaction or would my inaction be demonized? What could I even do?

  The Home One takes point opposite the Constellation, her secret turbolasers and ion cannons still hidden within her armor belt and various faux shields and windows. Her secondary reactors deactivated until they were needed for open battle. From an outside scan all you would see was a standard Home One type MC80a, nothing unusual about it. But I knew better and I could almost see Raddus’ strategy. Pounce on the Constellation, disable it with ion cannon fire after breaking its shields with the heavy turbolasers, then strike at the Star Destroyers in our rear, unleashing her maximum firepower.

  “Sir, Commodore Praut is requesting an adjustment to face the Home One.” Commander Slas says.

  “The 99th Battleship is exactly where I want them.” I reply, the five Venators and their equal number of DP20s safely in our second line, between my portside flank and Tarkin.

  Captain Sever would remember to keep calm and I didn’t need Praut or one of their underlings to forget who was the real enemy during such a critical point in time. I glance over at the ISB Captain then refocus my eyes at the tactical display. This stare off was … annoying. Imperial ground troops were landing imminently, but all the Merchant Fleet and I were doing was staring at one another.

  I sigh, deeply. Damn it all.

  Raddus looks at the tactical display, Imps were landing on Dac City and had begun fighting the small delaying force lead by Ackbar. Block by block the Imps were gaining ground, their heavy armor and tens of thousands of Storm Troopers making good work despite the militias’ best efforts. Finally, as the last of the Mon Calamari and Quarren jump into the oceans an explosion rocks the supports for various chunks of the city on the coral reef.

  The supports gave out as steel broke into the oceans, taking heavy armor, transports, shuttles and men down into the depths with them where they were set upon by various Mon Calamari and Quarren militiamen. Raddus nods to himself before switching his perspective to a different part of the tactical display. Those who invaded their surface cities would be slaughtered to a man, what was more important was the standoff between Dericote and him.

  He had had to admonish more than a few Captains, some more than once, to keep stern and stay put. Interlocking their shields and ensuring the Imps couldn’t pass them along the tropic of cancer even if they tried. And though he pitied the various people who had lost and would loose their homes and livelihoods, better to spare all but the north this plight than to fail pushing Tarkin back further.

  “Sir, Imperial transports descending. We’ve identified the markings of the Scuba Troopers on many of them.” An Aide de Camp reports.

  “Transfer the information to his majesty. We mustn’t allow his or Chief Ri’s capture!” Raddus barks.

  “Transmitting. Enemy jamming is making it difficult, but I’ll loop it on repeat for two minutes, sir.” The comms chief reports.

  “Good, now keep steady and prepare to launch strikecraft on my orders.” Raddus.

  “We’re striking soon then?” An Aide asks.

  “No, but I want them ready at a moment’s notice!” Raddus orders.

  “Understood, sir.” The Adjutant acknowledges.

  Damn Dericote, Raddus thinks. He should be acting! Doing anything! Instead he’s scared stiff, afraid of doing anything and thus, doing nothing. Stuck in his head and spiraling after things don’t go his way for once. Raddus sighs, he can be mad, but he understands. They had hoped for three years to prepare, though should be able to work with a single year if it was necessary. Instead they had maybe a few hours before things fully escalated out of their ability to regain control.

  Now if only Dericote would keep his damn word already.

  Hours tick by as I tried to keep calm while being constantly needled by my instincts. I should be pouncing by now. I should be acting and yet I was stuck waiting, observing, strategizing, while being observed by hostile agents on my own damn bridge. Merchant Fleet ships were slowly adjusting their positions, focusing all of their MC40a light cruisers and a full fifth of their MC30c frigates around the Home One, simply waiting for the moment where a decision could be made.

  Tarkin had called on me all but once to inquire why I wasn’t moving. My answer was my honest reaction to the tactic. What could I do? The Merchant Fleet outnumbered me in number of battleship sized vessels, all of which had battleship level shields and armor, if not weapons. My forces would be overwhelmed from that alone, never mind their various frigates that could punch well above their weight class.

  I inhale deeply as I wait, exhaling slowly. I needed more time to build up … and yet how much longer could I even build up in the first place? I was thinking in circles, I had realized. Not something I usually suffer from … and yet I was still stuck doing it.

  “Sir, incoming transmission from Moff Tarkin.” Commander Slas reports.

  “Live or recorded?” I ask, I was in no mood to entertain Tarkin.

  “Live, sir.”

  I sigh openly: “Fine, front and center.”

  Tarkin’s visage appears before us soon after, he turns to me with a cruel glint in his eyes: “Admiral Dericote.. The Invasion is not going exactly to plan. The King has managed to flee beyond our reach and Chief Ri has descended to the Quarren cities in the twilight zone, also not reachable by our forces.”

  “Quite the predicament, Moff.” I reply, suppressing the urge to either smile in satisfaction or spit vitriolic venom at the hologram before me.

  “However Lord Vader has successfully eliminated the Jedi and neutralized his acolytes. He is returning to the Sovereign imminently. After that I will be conducting an orbital bombardment of the various norther cities to force the enemy government into submission.”

  I blink in confusion. Had I heard that right: “You are … threatening bombardment?”

  He takes a belittling tone in response to my question: “No, I will be bombarding the cities.”

  “Tarkin, you’ll kill millions, billions of civilians.”

  “A worthy sacrifice to bring their government out from hiding.”

  “I must strenuously and formally object. Threaten orbital bombardment? Certainly an option, especially if you back it up by targeting military facilities, but the cities? You’ll be committing a massacre!” I shout.

  “Get a hold of yourself Dericote. You yourself allowed such bombardments in the past.”

  “I only ever threatened the government with strategic bombardment of governmental facilities, strategic infrastructure and industry!”

  “Did you not order a bombardment of Tion?”

  “I ordered no such thing.” I growl, “I had the perpetrator executed on the spot for insubordination, in fact.”

  “Well I am sure you will not be equally insubordinate and keep the Merchant Fleet from stopping me.”

  “You’ll be turning the entire polity of Mon Calamari against the Empire with this!” I try one last argument.

  “I will teach them to fear the Empire’s wrath.” Tarkin corrects me like an ignorant schoolboy.

  “You are dooming my command to a civil war!” I shout, “You will be killing billions and all it will result in is further death and instability! If Dac and her colonies rebel, the Tionese and Free Dac will rally to their cause of liberation, the Ash Worlds will burn once more as they’re turned into a battlefield and the various insurrections in the former Forge of the Confederacy will gain traction while the Empire is busy putting out the wildfires your single burning match will cause! You will be killing countless innocents with a single action so I am begging you to stop this insanity!”

  Tarkin’s eyes go cold: “If all this will occur from a single world’s insubordination, then your command is far less secure than I had thought. Good that we are here then, to make up for your mistakes. We will begin the bombardment once Lord Vader arrives.”

  The holotransmission goes cold as I stare at where Tarkin had been but a moment before. My mind is racing. I was being boxed in. There was only one option left, one choice to make. Or else Mon Cala will burn again.