Dark Lord Substitute 5

Story by draconicon on SoFurry

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#5 of Dark Lord Substitute

Bertram commands his first battle, and then takes a break as the realization of just how real this is settles on him.

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Dark Lord Substitute

Chapter 5

By Draconicon

As far as Bertram was informed, there were only four ways out of the system conquered before he had arrived. Limited by how much fuel one carried and where one could restock rather than by the limits of warp drives, light speed, or transfer rings, they faced a surprisingly simple logistical problem in deciding where to strike first.

The obvious target, and the one where the previous Dark Lord had died, was one such route. Bertram had canceled that attack, not about to make the same mistake as the previous Dark Lord. So, that was one route out.

One took them back to the home planet that the Dread Star circled, and that was not really an option. It would give them nothing, waste fuel, and leave them in a difficult situation if the Allied Systems decided to strike while he was away. The fleets orbiting the recently conquered world were the only things that could keep the enemy from landing and causing untold havoc. They couldn't just retreat and see if there was a better route from the home world.

That had left two other routes. One took them directly into enemy territory, a system with two different planets inhabited by the enemy, one of which was a factory planet and the other was the dormitory planet for those that worked at the factory. Something about keeping living and working conditions separate for the people that lived there. A blow at the factory would leave the enemy system in disarray, and lower the construction capability for the multiple allied governments among the enemy.

The second would put them against a small but well-fortified planet, one that had little in the way of space forces and still less in terms of food supply on the surface. It was a prison planet, and it was rife with potential volunteers that would be willing to join the Dark Lord's army, swelling the ranks.

Mark Twist favored the former, while his sister, Zelda, favored the latter. Bertram had chosen a third, unspoken option, and now they were flying through space, flung along by the boosters at the back of the Super-Station Indomitable. He stood on the central deck, staring out through the tinted windows at the stars flicking by in the distance. They were moving quickly, too quickly for easy explanation, and he decided that he didn't really want to hurt his head by asking how this worked.

"If this fails, we're not going to have the fuel to get home," Mark muttered at his side. "This is a very risky move."

"And yours would have been any better?" Zelda asked from his other side, the right. "I don't like this any more than you do, but at least we're not splitting our forces between two different planets to do this."

No, they were just risking most of their fuel supply to get here. If this failed, their best option would be sacrificing half of their fleet for fuel, and then limping back to the previous planet. It would cost them most of their greater fleets, and they would be at a loss for any further incursions for weeks.

But if it worked...

Bertram stared at the three burning points some way ahead of the Indomitable, clenching his fingers slightly as he went through the math. That was one of his capital ships, the Ranger, and it had been flipped on its side with three other engines mounted to the belly of the ship. It was catapulting along, unmanned, the first ship that would pop out of this warp or whatever it happened to be called. The enemy would open fire on it, hopefully, spending their first volley on something that didn't have anyone on it to kill.

Then, out of the wreckage...

Well, he was getting ahead of himself. The ram looked over his shoulders at his generals, then glanced down at the console.

" How long until we arrive?"

"T-minus 4 minutes, 36 seconds, and counting," Zelda said.

" Prepare the Indoctrination core. Run Indoctrination module 3."

Mark nodded, the hyena turning and marching down one of the catwalks behind him, making his way to one of the stairs that led down to the stations one floor down. Zelda stepped slightly closer, and she hissed as she looked out of the window with him.

"Not to be a bitch, but...you sure this is gonna work?"

" No. But they're not expecting it."

"That's not a guarantee of success."

" It's better than anything else we have. And at least this way, we're not fighting under the compulsion."

"I guess..."

" Anything new from the probes?"

"You asked that ten minutes ago. Nothing new in the last five minutes. Looks like we're going in with nothing else."

That was not ideal, but with the plan they had, it would hopefully be enough. He tried to squeeze at his arms a little bit more, and found that it was rather impossible at that point. Shaking his helmeted head, he looked down at the countdown timer at the console. It was down to four minutes now and still counting.

The Ranger hits first, we follow twenty seconds behind, followed by the rest of the fleet ten seconds behind that. Staggered waves to keep anything from shutting us down right off the bat...

With the Ranger's bulk just ahead of them, it should be sufficient to keep them from getting caught in the initial barrages, long enough for them to get shields up and make sure that everything was working properly. After that...

Well, after that it was down to whether the defenses outlasted the Indoctrination. They'd just have to see.

The countdown was completely silent until they hit thirty seconds. Mark called up from the lower level.

"Dropping to normal speed in thirty seconds. Ranger stops in ten seconds. Nine. Eight."

Bertram nodded, staring straight ahead still. The burning points of light that were the engines attached to the Ranger were starting to go dull, the fuel burning out. They'd stripped those engines off of some of the big ships that they left circling the other world, leaving them as orbital defense stations. Nothing else they could have done about that; they needed something to stay behind, and that was the best they could do.

"Two. One. Ranger stopping."

The bright lights ahead came to a sudden stop, and the Ranger stopped moving forward and instead felt like it was moving backwards with how fast they were moving towards it. He knew that the station was set to stop just behind it, knew that it had been programmed properly, but the slight fear of someone else's failure lingered in the back of his head. What if -

Too late now.

"Initial missile barrage hitting the Ranger. Hull's holding, but barely."

" Prepare fighters."

"Already done."

" Wait."

Another barrage of red in the distance, a distance that was rapidly closing. Ten seconds now. Nine. Eight. Seven.

" Launch."

Mark sent the signal just as the Ranger blew apart under the missile barrage. The cloud of bursting metal - but no explosions, no heat, since all the interior fuel had been drained - gave a perfect stealth field for all the fighters that were suddenly shooting out of the detonating capital ship. They were shooting through space and engaging the defense stations seemingly before the local scans could detect them.

"Dropping out of boost-speed...now."

He felt the floor buzz under him, an intense magnetic force locking him and everyone else to the deck. Zelda stumbled slightly at his side, but nobody did anything worse than that. The giant diamond-shaped station slowed, spinning already as it floated through the remains of the Ranger.

" Report."

"Six defense stations ringing the planet. Two in critical condition. The remaining four look like they're trying reorient to track the fighters, but the fighters are too close for easy tracking," Zelda said, reading the console. "Looks like the plan's working, oh Dark Lord," she muttered quietly.

" So far," he muttered back.

Ten seconds later, the rest of the fleet popped into space behind them, soaring through the darkness of space as they approached the planet. It was a dull red, closer to a rust color. Not much of value here beyond an outpost for refueling in terms of overall infrastructure, but it was the refueling outpost that he wanted, as well as the research labs that were kept out here, too. Something about the out of the way location made him sure that there were some real goodies to be grabbed out here.

Three defense stations were out of commission, all of them on the same side of the planet. As the remaining three engaged their booster rockets to try and orient themselves into a different orbit to try and engage him and his fleet, Bertram gave the orders to slip into a matching orbit around the red planet. In short order, he and the six capital ships that had come with him had matched the defense stations orbit, moving around out of view, out of range, and well out of harm's way.

However, the same couldn't be said for the space stations. The planet could have been twice as big as it was and they still would have been in range of the Indoctrination programs that were pulsing from the Indomitable. With the guns on the fighters falling silent, he turned back to Zelda.

" Call the fighters home. Send a message to whoever was the captain of the Ranger. Tell him his ship did its job perfectly."

"Yes, sir..."

" Is there a problem, General?"

"...Just...didn't expect this sort of fighting. That's a big sacrifice for a small planet."

" It'll be worth it. And if nothing else, it's proven that we can do more than the last Dark Lord did. The Allied Systems will be forced to spread their defenses thinner and further out, just in case we try a trick like this again. They won't be able to rest on their laurels, and they won't be able to contain us if they think we can just jump so far every time."

"...I didn't think of that."

" Hopefully, neither will they. Prepare the landing parties. Once we're over the research facility, deploy overwhelming force."

"Any special orders?"

" Keep as many scientists alive as possible. If they have robots, droids, whatever, ensure that they are kept alive, too."

"Slavery?"

" Shortcuts."

It was a short fight. The landing crafts were able to swoop down right over the research facility, and shortly after, they'd engaged the defenses. Bertram's landing forces outnumbered the local security four to one, and even with the disadvantage of most of them being rodents, they were still at a two to one advantage. That was more than sufficient, particularly once he brought the Indomitable to bear on the stations properly. They had a live feed of the security cameras from the station, and he got a chance to watch live as they went from competent, if nervous, soldiers to sweating professionals to kneeling, gasping, half-lucid men at arms.

It was a powerful display. He'd expected the conversion to take hours, but it took less than one. A total of forty-seven minutes from the beginning of the broadcast to the last man falling to his knees. He glanced back at Zelda.

" Is this common?"

"They weren't braced for it, but for people that aren't ready...yeah, that's about right."

" I assume that they aren't proper slaves just yet."

"No, that'll take a little more education, but they're ready for that sort of shift. They're conditioned for deep indoctrination now."

That would do. The local soldiers seemed to be from a spread of species, though mostly of a canine nature. He could make out Dobermans, Dalmatians, Shepherds, and Collies on the camera, and he knew that they would be quite well-suited for certain types of indoctrinations if they were comparable to the species back home. They were...eager...when it came to pleasing their masters.

Suddenly, a compulsion seized him. He stiffened, standing up straight as he reached for the broadcast console before him. Zelda did the same, going ramrod straight, her hand on her weapon, her other moving to a salute as he engaged the broadcast screen. A shimmering image of himself, faceless with his helmet and mask, wrapped in a dark cape, looking as imposing as could be, appeared in front of him. Once more, words that he didn't choose to speak started falling from his mouth.

"**Dwellers of Outpost Zonga. You have been overwhelmed. I hereby claim this planet, its resources, and yourselves in the name of the Dread Star. As of this moment, you have become slaves of the Dread Star and the Dark Lord.

"You will submit yourselves for Indoctrination. It is in your best interests to submit quietly and without further struggle. If you do, then you will be welcomed into the ranks of the Dread Star's army. If you do not...**

"

He raised his fist in a stereotypical gesture of force and authority, and inside his helmet, he was rolling his eyes about as much as one could. The ram found it to be utterly stupid, but he couldn't stop himself.

" If you do not, you will be destroyed."

The transmission ended, and he immediately dropped his hand back to his side. He slapped one hand against his head, looking slowly over to Zelda. She was just sliding back down from her position, as well.

" And that is why I didn't want to wait for the compulsion to make us fight. We would have been too stupid to be effective."

"Yeah...fuck. I keep forgetting how much power that stupid thing has."

" We're just lucky it didn't trigger when the fight started. If it had..."

"Bye-bye element of surprise..."

Mark hustled up the stairs to join them, the other hyena nodding at him.

"All reports in from the outpost. The refueling station and the lab is ours. The security chief surrendered as soon as your threat went through."

" Good...good."

That meant that they had actually succeeded. There would be no limping back, no sudden problem that meant that they were down by four ships instead of one, and there wouldn't be the horrible shortage of supplies that they had predicted if this had all gone wrong. The Dark Lord and the two generals let out a collective sigh of relief, looking down at the ground for a moment before Bertram looked up again.

" Catalog and collect everything that they were working on at the research station, and commandeer the defense satellites. Position them along the system borders...there, and there," he said after a pause, pointing out the windows at the two other ways in and out of the system. " Have our ships set to orbit the planet, collect the prisoners from the station and commence full Indoctrination. I'll be around to see to that shortly."

"And what will you be doing before that? Sir?" Mark asked.

" I will be sleeping. I'm about to collapse."

"Seriously? You?"

" You can't see it, but I've been shaking in my boots for the last three hours."

"Oh. Well then. Um...You know where -"

He did know where his chambers were, and he hustled off the deck before anyone could see him stumble or trip. For all that he had commanded that well enough, he hadn't had any idea that this was going to be this stressful. It was one thing to think through it as a mental exercise, but now that they were actually going through it, the weight of all those lives rested on his shoulders. The ram had no idea this was how it felt.

Reaching the elevator at the back of the main deck, he pressed the highest button and let it take him along. It took only a few seconds to reach it, and the scanners quickly verified his identity before allowing him through. He stepped in, resting his hand against the wall, and the armor he was wearing disappeared, shattering into pieces before being reabsorbed into the wall and leaving him naked.

He fell into the bed that rose from the floor, shaking from head to toe as he sucked in one breath after another, forcing himself to calm down. It wasn't so easy as he hoped, and he rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling.

"Data," he wheezed.

"Yes?"

"Casualties."

"None, sir."

"Confirm."

"None, sir."

"Efficiency."

"98%, sir."

"Thank - thank you," he muttered, feeling the tightness slowly fading.

No deaths. No deaths, and no injuries. The surprise attack had gone as well as it could have, and that meant that he had a foothold in Allied System space. They were going to be pissed about that, particularly as taking this system meant that he had just ripped one of their refueling depots out of their border with him. They'd need to go around, trying various circuitous trips to actually reach their destinations without this refueling station, and that would give him more room to maneuver.

Once he connected the now-isolated, less defended systems closer to his border, the ones that Zelda and Mark had advocated for before, he would have more troops, more material, more everything. Meanwhile, those worlds were now on a starvation diet, no longer able to ship in goods from the Federation, and that meant that he could take his time - at least somewhat - in bringing them in.

It was a masterful move, but it didn't stop him from shaking. One good idea didn't mean that the rest would be as good, and now that he knew the stakes...

You're here, and there's no getting out of it, he told himself, his thoughts firmer than his body. You can't just give up. You have to keep pushing forward, for them, and for yourself.

He took a deep breath, and the shivers gradually stopped. The ram was able to roll onto his side again, breathing slowly and deeply, and he felt the little tension spots running through his body gradually fade, as well. Bit by bit, he took back himself, and he was able to sit up and stare at the wall.

"Show me the Dread Star, Data."

"As ordered."

The wall opened, a hole that was filled with some sort of force field keeping the atmosphere from escaping appearing in front of him. He could see the Dread Star, and it was closer now than it had been when they arrived in-system. It seemed to throw its glow over the red planet below, too.

"Where the Dark Lord rules, the Dread Star shines..."

"Correct."

"Data?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have anything else to say? Besides the minimum?"

"If ordered, I will engage eloquence circuits."

"...Perhaps later."

He laid down, folding his hands over his chest. The little room was a far cry from what he had in the Dark Citadel back on the other planet. This was, well, little more than a little pyramid that rose up over his head in four sharp panels. He shook his head, rolling onto his side again.

"Wake me when Indoctrination is done. I want to see what the final product is like."

"Yes."

"Goodnight, Data."

"Goodnight."

When Data woke him with a nudge from some floating black material, Bertram woke with surprising ease. Either something about this universe was changing him, or his role as the Dark Lord was doing something to make sure that he could actually respond to things quicker. Either way, he woke refreshed, sitting up and looking out the window again.

It looked as if four or five hours had passed, judging by the rotation of the planet below, and Data confirmed it when he asked. Bertram got to his feet, holding out his arms as he put his feet on the floor. He felt the slight shock of connection before black shards came flying out of the walls, attaching themselves to him and molding to his arms and legs. They didn't quite dig into his skin, but they did settle in firmly to one another, close to his flesh, flexible but very, very strong.

The helmet came last, partially obscuring his vision. He adjusted it slightly.

"Where are you going?" Data asked.

" The Indoctrination labs. I want to see the progress being made."

"For pleasure or business?"

" Both."

"Expanded room two floors down."

He blinked, then slowly looked back at the ceiling. Either Data was learning, or there were various things that had been added since the last time that they'd talked. He smiled behind the mask.

" Thank you."

"Welcome."

Stepping into the elevator, the ram folded his arms and gritted his teeth at the sudden descent. As his stomach struggled to catch up to him, he prepared himself for something brutal. It was time to see just what the Indoctrination did to turn people into slaves, like that rodent king. Then...well, then he deserved a little fun.

He was the Dark Lord, after all.

The End

Summary: Bertram commands his first battle, and then takes a break as the realization of just how real this is settles on him.

Tags: No sex, male nudity, M/solo, ram, hyena, sci-fi, series, patreon, indoctrination, mind control, isekai, the baddies, body control, tropey,