Eternal. (A Star Wars Story.)

The Calm Before.

Jakob sat in the royal chambers, his fingers absently tracing the edges of a golden medallion on the desk before him. The palace was quiet now, the storm having subsided into a low, rolling thunder in the distance. But inside, it felt as if the storm was only beginning to gather strength. The weight of his decisions loomed heavy over him.

Tachi had left him some time ago, but Jakob remained in the room, contemplating his next move. The Crimson Dominion was mobilizing. The Shattered Coalition was growing bolder, their whispers of rebellion louder by the day. His Kingdom was at a precipice, teetering dangerously close to the edge of chaos. But Jakob wasn’t ready to let it fall—not yet.

The door to his chamber opened without a sound, and Prince Verb stepped inside. Jakob didn't need to turn to know who it was. Verb had always been quiet, observant, and he carried a subtle strength that Jakob had come to rely on, even if his son was still young. The prince wasn’t yet a warrior like his sister, Lucy, but Jakob saw potential in him. Perhaps one day, he would rise to lead, but not yet.

“I hear the fleet is ready,” Verb said, his voice calm but with a hint of something else—anticipation, maybe.

Jakob turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "The Eternal Fleet? It’s always ready. They’ve been running drills day and night. I have no doubt they'll be ready when we need them."

Verb stepped forward, eyes locking onto his father. "And when will that be, Father? The fleet... the fighters... they’ve been stationed in the skies for months now. Are we truly ready to take the fight to them?"

Jakob felt a pang in his chest. The fleet, led by Zeta, had been critical in their efforts to maintain the Kingdom’s borders, ensuring that nothing would slip through the skies unnoticed. But even with the fleet at their back, it wasn’t enough to stop the factions brewing within the Kingdom itself.

"We'll move when the time is right," Jakob said, a note of finality in his voice. "We’ve held the skies long enough. Ghost, Prob, and I are ready to lead our forces on the ground, but we can’t afford to act impulsively. If we strike too early, it could divide us more than unite us."

Verb nodded slowly. “I understand, Father. But the longer we wait, the more likely they’ll act first. If we don’t show them we won’t back down...”

“Then we make sure they know who they’re dealing with,” Jakob interrupted, standing from his desk. "But we’ll do it strategically. We won't let them force our hand.”

A long silence followed, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder. Jakob’s mind raced with possible outcomes, scenarios that played out like shifting shadows. The Crimson Dominion would not stop until they had the power they wanted. The other factions wouldn’t sit idle either. The only question was when they would make their move, and if they would be ready for the Kingdom’s counterstrike.

Jakob turned back toward the window, where the last traces of the storm were dissipating into the horizon. He could see the glint of the Eternal Fleet’s aerial carriers rising high in the distance, their forms barely visible against the fading storm clouds. The fleet had been designed to defend against airborne threats, the first line of defense for the Kingdom. It was an impressive sight—one that Jakob was proud of, even as the threat of war loomed closer.

"We'll need all the support we can get," Jakob muttered, half to himself. "The fleet, the guard, the people. Everything depends on them standing with us."

Verb’s gaze softened. “And they will, Father. As long as we lead them.”

Jakob smiled faintly. It was rare to hear his son speak with such conviction, but there was something in his voice that gave him hope. The Kingdom might not be perfect, but the people who fought for it—those who stood by his side, like Ghost, Prob, and Zeta—they were ready. They had to be.

“We’ll face whatever comes,” Jakob said, his voice steady once more. “Together.”

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End of Chapter Three.