Jedi Insurgency 275 (Interlude 36)

AN: May I present to you Bail Organa, Chad King of the Alliance.

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Nearly a month had passed since that disastrous day on Coruscant, and the galaxy was responding. Where others spoke pretty speeches, or engaged in terrorism to ‘fight’ the Empire, it was House Organa that had taken the spear, intent on closing directly with the enemy. Every attempt at negotiation had been exhausted. The time to go mask off had arrived. 

Traveling through hyperspace, a massive fleet of well over 50 ships-an entire battlegroup-had assembled. Composed of Valor-class Cruisers, 1,200m long Centurion-class Battlecruisers, Hammerhead-class Cruisers and Foray-class Blockade Runner Corvettes, it was a complete package. The Centurions sported massive anti-capital ship turbolasers, whilst the Valor carried a large complement of starfighters, the Hammerhead acted as a front line tank to sponge damage, and the Foray screened incoming enemy starfighters. 

This was but one of 20 such fleets that House Organa had mustered after the events of Coruscant. Hidden and mothballed due to the Ruusan reform, House Organa never truly destroyed their weapons of war. Over the centuries, they-as defenders of the Republic-knew that war would one day return to the galaxy, and maintained these relics well. Modern systems, and tech filled their halls, and professional troops had been trained in the sim. All for this day. 

Within the middle of this formation was the jewel of House Organa, the Lion of Alderaan, a custom battleship just as long as an ISD, and twice as wide. It was an engineering marvel constructed by the best Jedi smiths, artisans, and engineers to combat the nastiest of Sith superweapons. Her greatest feat in battle was surviving a direct hit from the Great War era fleet obliterating cannon, the Silencer. 

In this endeavor to restore the Republic, Alderaan was not alone. Sleek cruisers from Alderaan occupied the center, surrounded by frigates from Delaya, corvettes from Birren, and armored carriers bearing the standards of colonies whose people had lived beneath Alderaanian protection for centuries. Nearly a thousand worlds had answered the call.

Some were prosperous colonies with shipyards and defense forces of their own. Others were little more than agricultural settlements, mining stations, or isolated enclaves whose populations numbered in the tens of thousands. Yet each had sent something. Ships, pilots, engineers, supplies, credits, or volunteers any and all help was welcomed with open arms. They had not come because the Senate had commanded them, but because the big brother that fought for their rights, secured their economies, and represented their cultural identity had called. 

The vassals of Alderaan had made their move! Representing this coalition was none other than Bail Organa. Resting on the bridge of the Lion, he was in his full, regal regalia. 

His dark blue coat was formal and austere. Fastened at the shoulder with the silver crest of his house, and a crimson sash crossed his chest, marking him not merely as Alderaan’s senator, but as the reigning King and lord protector of the Alderaanian realm. No crown rested upon his head, but none would mistake the patriarch Organa due to a lack of jewelry. 

Beloved for his generosity, mercy, and willingness to purge piracy within the Alderaani sphere of influence, he was hailed as a true inheritor of those past wartime Kings & Queens. 

The officers around him stood straighter whenever he passed. They had all served House Organa since before the Clone Wars. Some came from families that had sworn themselves to Alderaan generations ago, when the colonies had been young. Their loyalty was not the shallow obedience of conscripts to a distant government. It was personal, inherited, and constantly renewed by the knowledge that House Organa had never demanded a sacrifice it would not share.

Admiral Vasp Vaspar-the chief military advisor to His Majesty-stood near the bridge's primary holotable, a single scar across his brow was a lightsaber burn marking him as a survivor of Ventress’ assasination attempt. Wearing a crisp uniform, donning a white walrus-sized mustache, and a cold look, he was a man who had volunteered to fight in the Clone Wars, and now representing his home, he was the best military mind Alderaan had to offer. 

Weathered hands clasped behind his back, the old man addressed his King. “The last Delayan squadron has joined formation, Your Highness. Seventeen additional cruisers and forty-two escorts are on the way, due to reinforce us within three Galactic Standard days.”

“And the colonial contingents?” Bail questioned. 

“All accounted for. The fleet from Choysis suffered a hyperdrive failure, but its commodore reports that repairs are nearly complete. They will follow within six hours.”

Bail inclined his head. “They are not to risk their vessels trying to reach us before the battle. Tell the commodore to proceed when his engineers are satisfied.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Vaspar saluted, his gravelly voice was strong with confidence. 

The tactical projection above the table depicted Caamas as a blue-white sphere surrounded by angry red markers. The Imperial fleet had arrived two days earlier, officially to impose “emergency security measures” upon the Caamasi people. In practice, it had blockaded the system, seized orbital stations, and begun landing troops near the capital. As soon as Alderaan began its mobilization, the Empire had noticed this movement, and responded in kind. 

Bail's goal had been to control the extremely valuable Brentaal system, a place less than two days away from Alderaan on a Class-I hyperdrive. Sitting upon the Hydian Way & Perlemian Trade route-amongst several other minor hyperspace lanes-it was the gateway system to the Core. Quite possibly the most important choke point in the galaxy, he wanted to occupy it with the eventual design of sieging Coruscant. Unfortunately, the ISB were quick, and an Imperial fleet had been dispatched to meet them halfway. Deploying Interdictors, and threatening to glass Caamas, Bail had no choice but to meet the enemy short of his target. 

The Caamasi had been among the Republic’s most respected peoples. Their diplomats had prevented wars, mediated ancient disputes, and offered refuge to the persecuted. They possessed little appetite for conquest and even less for militarism. Unfortunately, this meant that despite being a founding member of the Republic, their military was practically non-existent, making them easy pickings for any would-be occupiers. 

“The scouts have confirmed ten Imperial Star Destroyers, a compliment of Venators and corvettes adding up to a battlegroup slightly larger than our own.” Admiral Vaspar continued. “The Star Destroyer Judicator appears to be commanding the operation.”

“Noted, Admiral. Although they outnumber us, wielding more than 50 cruisers at once has proven to be extremely difficult within the chaos of battle. The Lion of Alderaan is more than a match for these additional threats.” Bail replied in a confident tone. 

Bail looked toward the great bridge windows. He could see the lead elements of the fleet holding formation around the Lion. Every vessel carried the symbol of House Organa-a crowned mountain-upon its hull, as well as the emblems of the colony or noble house that the ship had come from. The scene filled him with pride, but he would never forget why he risked his people to engage in this endeavor. There were countless Clone Legions, outnumbering his own forces practically 50 to 1. At any other time, he would be happy to bide his time, but not anymore! 

He had seen entire districts disappear beneath the [Force Storm]. He had watched towers that had stood for millennia twist apart and vanish into a churning abyss of lightning and darkness. Tens of millions had died in minutes. Perhaps more. No reliable count existed, and Bail suspected the true number would never be known.

For the past few months, Bail had counseled restraint to his allies. He had built secret networks, moved weapons, sheltered fugitives, and gathered senators together who still believed in the Republic,  but would not join forces until the winds had changed, or some sign that the Empire was on the cusp of collapse occurred. He had feared that open resistance would justify greater tyranny. Now, however, what greater sign was there, than such widescale destruction on Coruscant? If he did not lead the charge now, who would have bravery to do so later? 

Bail turned from the stars, and signalled to a nearby enlisted man. “Open a channel to the fleet.”

The comms officer hesitated only long enough to verify the encryption, then saluted. “All vessels are linked, Your Highness. The channel is yours.”

Across hundreds of bridges, hangars, engine rooms, troop compartments, and medical bays, the image of Bail Organa materialized. 

“People of Alderaan, sons and daughters of our colonies, honored allies, and faithful servants of the Republic. Within the hour, this fleet will enter the Caamas system.” Bail began, speaking in a clear, concise manner. 

“An Imperial fleet has blockaded Caamas. Its commanders claim that they have come to preserve order. We have heard those words before. We heard them when clone soldiers entered the Jedi Temple. When the Republic declared war on the CIS with a mysterious army of vat-grown children trained by Mandalorians. This ‘order’ is nothing but a falsehood, a comforting lie to quash the embers of freedom.” 

“Order without justice is merely another word for oppression. The people of Caamas did not raise an army against Coruscant. They did not threaten the Empire. Their crime was that they spoke against cruelty. Their crime was that they remembered the Republic as it was meant to be. Their crime was to speak out about tyranny. With the destruction of the Senate, there is nothing that the Empire can do wrong, now that they hold the banner of order.” 

“I stood upon Coruscant and watched a portion of our civilization die. No more! Our time of standing at the sidelines has come to an end. This shame of inaction dies here.” 

Bail lifted his head, and there was something kingly in him then. Those watching the hologram took a deep gasp, or clenched their fists in hope, pride, or eagerness. The accumulated dignity of House Organa reflected a dynasty that had endured wars, famines, political feuds, and the rise and fall of governments. House Organa had governed because its people trusted it to stand between them and the darkness. Now that darkness once more threatened to swallow them whole, the Alderaani had answered. 

“Alderaan has not come to Caamas in search of territory. We have not come for tribute, glory, or revenge. We have come because great power carries with it the weight of great responsibility. For generations, the worlds beneath our stewardship have entrusted House Organa with their security. We have prospered because they prospered. We have known peace because they stood with us, and we with them.”

His eyes seemed to find every colonial crewman listening as his words resonated across hyperspace. 

“To the captains of Delaya, Birren, Choysis, and the outer provinces: your banners honor this fleet. To the citizens who left your homes and families to stand with us: Alderaan remembers your courage. Your service will not be forgotten while House Organa endures.”

In response, a million troopers across the fleet slammed their fists against their chest, performing the ancient war salute 

“Caamas is not one of our colonies. Its people owe us nothing. Yet that is precisely why we must go. The Republic was never meant to be an exchange of favors and corrupt dealings as it had become in recent centuries. It was a promise that no world would stand alone before the cloying grasp of tyranny.” 

“Some of you have never fought a battle. Some of you fought throughout the Clone Wars and believed that your service had purchased a generation of peace. I will not deceive you. The enemy before us is powerful. Its ships are heavily armed, its officers are experienced, and its crews have been taught that mercy is a weakness.” 

Bail paused in his speech to place one hand upon the edge of the command dais, and seemingly stare into the eye of every crewman. 

“But they do not know you.” He whispered. 

“They do not know the discipline of Alderaan’s navy. They do not know the courage of our colonies or the devotion that binds this fleet together. They believe compassion has made us weak because they have never understood the strength of a man fighting for his family, for his home.” 

“They believe Alderaan is a world of peace…they are correct. Upon this day, they shall discover the wrath of a man who knows the price of peace!” 

A cheer broke out aboard the carriers, shaking them within the void as Bail said his closing remarks. 

“Fight with discipline. Accept surrender when it is offered. Protect escape pods and medical craft. Take no pleasure in the suffering of those deceived into serving our enemy. We are not here to imitate the Empire. We are here to prove that something better can still survive.”

He drew himself upright, and adopted an extremely serious, solemn air. 

“By the authority entrusted to me by the Crown of Alderaan, by the free councils of our colonies, and by the principles of the Republic, I declare the Caamas blockade unlawful. As of this moment, we are at war with the Empire. Long live democracy, long live Alderaan.” 

“LONG LIVE ALDERAAN!!!” 

~~~~~

AN: And so the “Rebel Alliance” finally makes its debut. All it kriffing took was Coruscant losing 1/10 of its surface area. 

I've got a LOT of moving parts during this stretch of Interlude. The plot's back on the menu, boys!