"Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

Admiral Andrea Doria, head of the Genovese Fleet, sat in the confessional of his local parish. His voice must have betrayed the weight on his conscience, because Father Orazzio let out a small chuckle.

"My son, I have been here listening to your confessions since you were first able to speak, and I can assure you that nothing you could have done now would warrant the solemnity in your voice, especially when looking back into your youth."

Doria could not help but grin thinking back to his old life, how carefree everything had seemed, how the world could not have gone by fast enough for him. He remembered how much he had longed to leave his childhood home of Oneglia to make a name for himself on the ocean. And realized he never wanted to be back there more than he did right now.

"Father Orazzio, I fear what I have done is unforgivable. That God will look most unfavorably upon me for what is about to happen, more so than for my teenage escapades."

"And what, pray, would that be exactly? I can't exactly ask God to forgive you for vague warnings and a guilty conscience."

"But father you must! I cannot bring myself to tell you, the consequences would be too dire."

"Nevertheless, Andrea, you must. God can only forgive those who admit their sins."

Doria sighed. He was afraid it would come to this.

"Father, I am a loyal man. Loyal to my family, loyal to my country, but most of all, loyal to my people. And right now, I fear for my people. Our Doge, the leader of our republic, was not only put in that position by himself, but is not even Ligurian! He is a Frenchman from the Low Countries who has dedicated us to too many causes on his own emotional whims, and currently stands on the precipice of madness, just waiting to drag our country down with him! I can't just sit by and watch while our people die to the whims of a madman, I simply can't."

Father Orazzio was silent for a moment. "What exactly are you saying, Andrea?"

"What I'm saying is that the Doge will not survive to hear the end of his own speech on Thursday. He will fall, just as all the other weak Doges have fallen before him."

"Andrea... surely you must understand... what you are suggesting... it amounts to treason."

"No! What I am suggesting is patriotism! What man who truly loved his country would not take up arms to defend it, even when the enemy was the government itself? This is simply another in a long line of Doges that has used Genova as a vessel to enrich themselves, without truly caring about her wellbeing, and I refuse to tolerate it any more!"

Father Orazzio prayed to himself for a moment, before making the sign of the cross. "My son, I do hope that you are making the right choice. Nevertheless, He forgives those that do what they must to right a wrong."

He lowered his head, placed his hands on Doria's shoulders, and begain, "Deus meus, ex toto corde poenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum, eaque detestor, quia peccando, non solum poenas a Te iuste statutas promeritus sum, sed praesertim quia offendi Te, summum bonum, ac dignum qui super omnia diligaris. Ideo firmiter propono, adiuvante gratia Tua, de cetero me non peccaturum peccandique occasiones proximas fugiturum. Amen."

"Amen." Doria said in unison. "Thank you father, I will always appreciate your counsel and atonement."

Father Orazzio smiled. "No Andrea, thank you for always taking the time to come by and talk to a silly old priest."

He clapped Andrea on the back and turned to walk away. But Doria sighed, and said, "I'm sorry father, but I need one more thing."

"Of course, my son. What is it?"

Oh why did he have to push? "I need forgiveness for something I now need to do."

"And what is it that you need to do, Andrea?"

A single tear came to Doria's eye as he withdrew his wheellock. "Fix a loose end."

Doge Philip I of Genoa stepped out onto the balcony of the Palazzo Ducale and looked over the crowds below. They were all out celebrating the anniversary of his capture of Tunis, the battle that solidified his legacy. He smiled as he waved at the cheering people that had packed themselves into the small plaza in front of the palace. 'All here for me,' he thought, 'all cheering for me.' He could hardly wait to give his speech, filled with metaphor and high-mindedness, just the right amount of self-praise and enough praises to God to make even the most stern priest roll his eyes. Besides him, his most trusted friend and adviser Admiral Doria, who seemed slightly offput. It was probably the crowds. On his other side was his wife Mary, whom he was so happy to see again he decided not to remember her death five years previous. He looked down at the crowd again, took a deep breath, and began,

"My fellow citizens..."

"ALMAGHRIB HU LILMUSLIMINA, WALAYS AL'IITALIIYN! ALKHURUJ MIN 'AFRIQIA! ALLAHU 'AKBAR!!!!"

Philip could only get out a confused "What the fuck?" before a bullet tore through his chest. He collapsed to the floor as the screaming began. Guards immediately rushed over to put down the attacker, and Doria rushed Philip inside and into his chambers. As he lay in bed coughing up blood, attendants rushing around frantically, Doria simply stood there, watching. As the coughing slowed, he walked over and looked down at his nearly former boss. The look returned was one of terrible dread and sorrow. Doria leaned down, and whispered into his ear:

"How is this for a legacy, stronzo?"

Philip, suddenly understanding, began to cough and spasm uncontrollably. Doria stepped back, and simply watched, as the spasms slowed and eventually stopped. Walking back over, Doria slowly closed his eyelids as the women wept.

"Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen."

It had been two weeks since Philips murder and the public execution of his assassin. Of course he had promised the man he had hired that he would live, but he really should have known better. Loose ends and all. Luckily people were too excited about the execution to question the gag in his mouth. But that had been the easy part. The hard part had been the weeks that followed, of consolidating support, forming laws, and writing the most important address of his life. But he was finally done, and in what seemed like a mirror of this day two weeks ago, he stepped out onto the Palazzo balcony ready to address the gathered crowd. Only he, unlike Philip, would make it to the end of his speech.

"My fellow citizens, I wish I was able to speak to you in better times. Our beloved Doge Philip is dead, murdered by a man we now know to have come from Bejaia - the territory that was stolen from us by the Labbians!"

Gasps rippled through the crowd, and an atmosphere of dread and uncertainty began to wash over them.

"But fear not my people, for it is not out of fear that I tell you this, but rather out of strength. We have far greater numbers than those of the backwards Maghrebian tribe, and we will no doubt crush them without even a scratch upon ourselves. For we are Ligurians! We rule the seas, we rule the Maghreb, and we rule our own destiny! Sumus respublica superiorem non recognoscens!"

This elicited a much more positive reaction out of the crowd, as cheers began to replace murmurs and a wave of excitement swept over the plaza.

"But while we are the republic that recognizes no superior, we must realize that we have, in fact, had to recognize foreign superiors repeatedly in the last few decades. Between France and Milan, we have hardly had an independent Doge for years, and certainly not one that was corrupt in their own way. To be blunt, for the past thirty years, we have been used!"

Shouts of anger began to raise through the crowd, but the atmosphere was one of anticipation of what their beloved Doria would say next.

"Well I say that Genova has been taken for granted for too damn long! Screw the French! Screw the Milanese! We can no longer afford to be bound by a system that allows these nations to corrupt our people and place themselves into power! We hold territory across the Maghreb, fund the major powers of Europe, and our banks reach further than any other, and yet we are still stepped on like insects! And I refuse to let that go on any longer!"

Cheers began to grow throughout the plaza, some seeming to know what was coming.

"So today, I come to you with a message of death. Not only the death of Philip, but of Genoa. Yes, these are the final days of the Republic, the weak and malleable system that has let us be stepped on for too long! Today marks the death of weakness, and beginning of the Kingdom of Liguria! One which will reign throughout history as the greatest trading empire known to man!"

The cheers only continued to grow, with people in hysterical excitement on the streets.

"Now, all that remains is our ruler, and as a final goodbye to our system, we will choose who takes us from here. Now, who do you want to be king?"

The crowd immediately begins to chant, "Do-ri-a! Do-ri-a!"

"I said, who do we want to rule us?"

"DO-RI-A! DO-RI-A!"

"I'm sorry, I can't quite hear you. WHO WILL BE OUR FIRST KING?"

"DO-RI-A!! DO-RI-A!! DO-RI-A!!"

"Well then, how could I refuse that?! And as my first act as King of Liguria, I say we go march into Bejaia, and demand justice for our fallen brothers! Justice for those who died taking the city, those who died defending it, and those who died right here in this city representing our great nation! Who is with me?"

The cheers had become an incomprehensible roar at this point, and the new King Doria smiled. He would take this new kingdom to great heights, solidify his generation in power for years to come, and make sure that no one would harm the Ligurian people ever again. He looked out over the crowd one last time, and ended with a closing prayer:

"Actiones nostras, quaesumus Domine, aspirando praeveni et adiuvando prosequere: ut cuncta nosta oratio et operatio a te semper incipiat et per ta coepta finiatur."

With a final wave, King Doria turned to return to his chambers in the Palazzo Ducale. The easy part was done, now it was time for action. There was much to be done.

[M] Read the whole thing assholes, that took forever to write. But mod-wise, please roll to see how many men volunteer to join my invasion army of Labbes.