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Dark Lord Substitute

Chapter 18

By Draconicon

Silence reigned on the bridge of the Indomitable, and Bertram bit back his annoyance at the loss of control that it represented. He stood among his closest slaves and advisors, staring at the same screen that had absorbed the attention of the rest of them. Upon it, a hologram of an orca stood, arms folded behind his back, a tight uniform that seemed to be all of one piece running from shoulders to ankles, and thick, webbed boots covered his feet. Various accolades in the forms of medals adorned one side of his chest, and a sash ran down the other side.

Just as clear as his officer status was his confidence. He carried himself with a smirk, and his stance told of someone that already believed he'd won. Doubtless, the victory that the Dark Lord had just won over the Deep Den hadn't made its way to his end of the galaxy, but that didn't mean anything with the message he'd sent.

"Dark Lord of the Void, consider this your advanced notice for war."

"As if we needed one," Tardak muttered, the badger folding his arms.

"Hush," Bertram said as the orca continued.

"_I can only assume that you believed us passive, mere bystanders in the war that you began with the dwellers of the Deep Den. I assure you, you could not be more mistaken.

"Our ships are finally primed, and our armadas are on the move. In short order, we will lay waste to all of your conquests on our shared border. Once your meager defenses have been destroyed, we will move on your home planet. As ever, a victory there will see your forces scattered to the winds. Whatever meager success that you have gained thus far will be forgotten in short order, and you will cease to be a threat to the galaxy at large.

"But I suppose I can thank you for one thing..._

"

The orca smiled, adjusting his sash.

"Over the last few cycles, it has always fallen to the Deep Den to take care of your kind. For once, you have survived long enough to force my people to take care of you. The Starry Seas shall treasure this honor. I will see you soon, oh Dark Lord of the Void."

The hologram flickered, fading out before restarting. Bertram turned from the stuttering image to face his 'council.'

"When did this come in?"

"Less than an hour ago," Admiral Tardak said, shaking his head. "I told you as soon as I was made aware."

"Lovely..."

He turned back to the hologram, ignoring the annoying smirk on the orca's face as he swiped his fingers through it. The black armor cut through the light, bringing up other options.

"Data. Display galactic map."

The hologram shifted, pausing for a moment as the map appeared in 2D, then 3D, floating as various solar systems that represented the different chunks of the Federation of Allied Systems, as well as those parts that had already been taken by him and his forces. The south-east of the galaxy, as represented, had been stained a dark gray with his advance, while the rest of it glowed an off-gold color. He shook his head.

"Display Starry Sea."

The chunk of the galaxy just 'north' of the bottom-right corner of the map took on a purple-blue color. It was approximately triple the size of his original territory, and still was only slightly smaller than the chunk of space that the Deep Den and his own territory occupied. Not a small amount of people to mobilize...and certainly not a small number of people to fight.

Bertram tapped his chin. There was little chance that they were going to be on his border immediately, but they wouldn't have sent that message if there was a way for him to turtle up and hide. They were waiting for him to come down, hoping to catch him doing something stupid...

No. No, that wasn't quite right.

"Lazir."

"Hmm?" the fox asked, cocking his head to the side.

"How much longer do we have until the Federation as a whole moves against us?"

"Oh, I'd say around two months."

"And how long would it take for us to get back to the border and fight back?"

"...About two weeks, give or take."

"Which leaves a month and a half to take down an entire sector..."

Considering Indoctrination technology, that wasn't impossible. There were ways of making it happen, though it would have been difficult, if not outright impossible, for him to actually see every planet Indoctrinated in that time period. However, with both a threat at the border and the fact that he'd be facing a much-better organized enemy this time around, he couldn't count on the same idiocy, or the same lack of prep that the Deep Den had offered him. They would be ready, and that meant that he was less likely to have quick victories.

That said, holding back, turtling up, was just inviting them to hang out on the border until they had reinforcements. This was more than likely just a way of intimidating him into wasting time fortifying his border, only to be slapped down when the full weight of the Federation came to call.

His options were starkly limited. Either he face them directly with forces that were worn down from one hell of a blitz campaign, or he turtled up and was guaranteed to be killed in just under two months.

"Well...I never liked to gamble, but better an unlikely toss of the dice than to walk away from the table," he muttered.

"Sir?" Mark asked.

Bertram sighed, slowly turning on his heel to face his council. They deserved this as something face to face.

And what a council. He had always read of the heroes of stories getting allies, friends, warriors, mentors that would see them through their adventures. The hero always had something of a council towards the end of their stories, too, people that had learned to respect the hero and offered them services, granted them wisdom, guidance, and protection.

He didn't have any of that. Instead, he had a perverted fox ambassador; he had a once-king mouse cyborg; he had a loyal, if not to bright, hyena general; he had a brilliant space tactician in the form of the badger admiral; and he had an AI that had a bit of a stalker complex. It was not a particularly brilliant council, and he wasn't sure that it would be enough.

But it would have to be. If he wanted to live through this, it would fucking have to be.

"If we go defensive, we lose. So, we have to be aggressive, instead. Hit them hard, hit them fast, and hope that we can take enough planets to scare the living hell out of them so that they'll surrender," Bertram said.

"They won't," Tardak said. "I can tell you that right now."

"Well, we'll have to hope you're wrong, won't we?"

After all, they'd taken the Deep Den, and that had been considered impossible up until the point they did it. He'd hoped that they'd have some more time before the Starry Sea came into the fray, hoped that they'd be able to get their forces time off to recover and refit, repair and retrain, but it seemed that was just too much to ask for. The universe wanted to see him dead, to repair the cycle that had already been broken, and it was going to go out of its way to make sure that happened.

Well, he'd just have to put in extra effort to keep his head attached, wouldn't it? He turned back to the screen.

"Data. Likely point of attack?" he asked.

"Mistrum."

That was what he'd been afraid of. Soledad's planet was one of the crossroads leading out of the space that the Void occupied, and was the first real planet that actually counted as part of the Federation. Taking that and holding it was the only way for any Dark Lord to move forward, and the only way into the Dark Lord's territories without creating a brand new path.

There are some forces over the planet, but the Starry Sea will know that, he thought, looking at the map again. They'll come in with everything they can bring, hoping to end it quickly and establish a blockade behind them so I can't follow. The downside of a crossroads planet: take it, and nobody can follow you further into the rest of the system.

He gritted his teeth, trying to think it through properly. Patience. Patience. Ideas.

"Tardak. How much of our fleet can reach Mistrum before they do?"

"Perhaps a third."

"How far behind will we be to bring half?"

"Too far; I'd expect them to take it and have set up basic defenses by the time we arrive with that many."

"...What odds do you give us for winning with that many?"

"Honestly? Less than one in four," the badger said.

Silence picked up its reins once more, directing the room to a feeling of hopelessness. Bertram turned around, looking from one member of his council to another.

Mark looked hopeful, but didn't seem ready to give any ideas. All of his hope seemed directed at the possibility of the Dark Lord coming up with something brilliant.

Lazir was lazy, saying nothing and offering no hope or stratagems. It was pointless to consider that, he supposed.

Tardak had already said his piece, and the badger stood without comment. He'd follow orders, but he wasn't happy with the idea.

Then -

"There might be a solution available," Soledad said.

"...Speak on," Bertram said.

"My people are willing servants of yours. You know this. But the Starry Sea does not. With your permission, and the aid of your engineers, there is a possibility - however slight - that we can lay a trap. Send your ships away, allow the Starry Sea forces to land on the planet -"

"Is this a trap for them, or for us?" Mark asked, the hyena crossing his arms.

"It is for them," the mouse said, shaking his head. "You can trust me at this point, I assure you."

"...If the Dark Lord says so..."

"I do," Bertram said.

"Thank you, Master," King Soledad said, bowing his head.

"But tell me. What do you need from us, besides sending my ships away? That will only encourage them to land, and you don't have the forces to repel them."

"We won't need them. All we need...are the plans for the Indoctrination devices."

Silence was becoming particularly dominant in the room. Invisible gags filled the throats of every person present, Bertram included, leading Data to fill the gap.

"Such devices would not be difficult to construct. Theoretically, being planet-side, it would be easier to cast the signals in a larger net, as well."

"That was my thought," the mouse said. "If we can encourage a sufficient number of soldiers to land, you can protect your core planets, we convert the outrider fleet, and then..."

"Move on the Starry Sea with their outrider forces under our banner."

"All you have to do is trust us," the king said.

And that was going to be the harder part...or would have been, for nearly any other Dark Lord. Bertram had been investing in his people, had been giving them the chance to rise up, to be something better than they were. This was the chance to prove that his way was something that could and would work.

Bertram smiled.

"Alright. I'll see to it that you have what you need. Any other thoughts?" the ram asked, looking between his councilors.

"...Well, as long as we're accepting bits of insanity..." Lazir hesitated, then shrugged when Bertram nodded at him. "I have favors. Debts. Little bits and bobs that I can call in. It might not stop the assaults coming from the Starry Sea, but with the number of officers that would just love to get rid of the little favors they owe me, I might be able to slow down the general mobilization by a few days."

"Do it. As many of them as you can get in contact with."

"I believe that I can arrange a list and increase his efficiency, Master," Data said.

"Do that. Work with everyone that you can. And Lazir?"

"Yes, Master?"

"That means touching on everyone who owes you. Burn every favor that you have. I'm not holding anything in reserve here."

"...Are you certain of that, Master?"

"I am. I am dead certain. Otherwise, I'll just be dead."

It was a bit of gallows humor that didn't go over well for the room, and he knew it. He shook his head, glancing at Mark.

"You. Find someone that works well in the officer ranks. I want someone to replace Zelda ASAP. I will not have the chain of command broken, even if she seems intent on pouting for the rest of her days."

"Yes, sir. And, um..."

"Later, Mark. When we're under way."

"Yes, sir."

General Twist nodded, getting to his feet and hustling out of the command chamber. Lazir joined him, the fox nattering at the hyena a bit about different possibilities, including whether a threesome might be in the offing in the future. Bertram tuned them out, shaking his head as he looked back at the rest of his council. A badger that had been turned from the enemy and a mouse that had been the first person conquered - and his first real lay, he supposed, considering it. Not what he had expected to be on his side for this fight, but he wasn't going to turn down what aid he had.

"Admiral Tardak..." Bertram took a deep breath, then let it out. "Don't make me regret this."

"...Regret what, sir?"

"I'm giving you absolute command over my military force, second only to me," he said.

"..."

He was glad that he could at least surprise people, still. Smiling, he gestured at the map.

"Your responsibility will be finding a winning strategy for this war. Tap anything in our ranks that you can, do whatever it takes. I don't know military tactics, but I have been told that you do. And that if you are charge, then you will find a way to win. I want you to prove that now."

"You're giving me the challenge of a lifetime."

"No. Dealing with Lazir is the challenge of a lifetime."

"...True, sir. True." Tardak cracked the smallest of smiles. "I will do what I can."

"No. You will do it. Or you won't. I expect either some kind of victory, or a ruin; there can't be anything in-between at this point."

The badger's smile, if anything, grew. Bertram realized the sort of man that he was dealing with, then. The sort of man that liked pressure, that enjoyed a challenge, was the sort of man that would find it easy for someone else to take charge during a routine operation, but would refuse to give up the wheel during a crisis. That was the sort of person that he had just put in the driver's seat of the military, and that was something that he hoped would pay off in the long run.

Provided that it stayed dangerous, challenging, he imagined that it would. Tardak had the reputation of someone that could get things done. He just hoped that it was deserved.

"Get started, Tardak."

"Yes, sir."

"Soledad?"

"Yes?" the mouse said.

"Come with me. We'll get you the plans, and you send them, and the commands to get them built, back to your home planet."

"You won't regret this, Master."

Either I won't, or I won't live long enough to regret it. Either way...this is my way forward.

It didn't take long to get under way, and as they drifted through the emptiness of space, sling-shotting from planet to planet, warp-point to warp-point, he knew that this was going to be the battle that would make him or break him.

It wasn't even the battle itself, but rather what it would say to the Federation at large. The Dark Lord, quite clearly, had always been a threat that was dealt with swiftly and with great prejudice by the Federation, and never to the point of throwing a challenge back at them. The pennant of his domination had been thrown down again and again, each time without any real effort from those on the other side.

Bertram had changed that. The rules had gone out the window with what he did, with what he was willing to do. Whatever the other Dark Lords had done, whatever they had been distracted by, he had managed to so far avoid and evade, putting a smaller force against a bigger one and coming out on top. It had caught the interests of those higher than him, but not enough to change the rules...

Or at least, not change them enough.

But in their last battle, when they'd taken the last of the Deep Den planets and forced his will upon them, there had been a change. The soldiers on the planet had surrendered. They had thrown down their arms and offered themselves up for Indoctrination rather than fighting to the bitter end as they had done endless other times. Whether that was something that had changed permanently or not, it didn't matter. It had changed this time, and that meant that there was a possibility of ending this war without having to fight everyone, without having to beat everyone.

He remembered the map. If he could take the Starry Seas - even a majority portion of it - he would own more than a quarter of the galactic territory. That would put him well over any individual member of the Federation, which, in turn, meant that they would have to take him seriously. He could not, at that point, be wiped out, particularly if he could secure the borders of the systems that he'd taken, ensure that warping in and out was as costly as possible.

Sure, they might still be able to overwhelm him, given time...but after that point, time was on his side. He could afford to turtle after securing those borders.

And if he did...if he did this right...then they would be willing to call a peace. If he did this, if he broke their rules the same way that he'd done it to make them surrender before...

It's my only chance. I can't fight for the rest of my life, and sooner or later, I'm going to run out of tricks, he thought, staring out the bridge window. When that happens...

When that happened, it would be a matter of days until he was dead. Flat-out. So, he had to win, had to call a treaty while he was still ahead.

It was just a matter of when the rules would allow that.

"Sir."

Mark stood behind him, the hyena offering him a datapad. The ram took it, looked at the screen. It just said one word.

Now?

"...I suppose we have time..."

"Thank you, sir," the hyena said with a faint blush.

"Your quarters."

"Not yours?"

"I prefer not to be the one doing laundry..."

The End

Summary: Bertram lays down the plans for pushing back the latest expansion, and then what to do next.

Tags: Implied M/M, Ram, Fox, M/solo, Nudity, Badger, AI, Mouse, Slavery, Planning, Updating, Worldbuilding, Series, Sci-Fi, Mind Control,