Cerabian Conquest Part 3: Conquered

       Former Grand General Patrick Grinder was a broken man. With the Emperor’s disappearance the Cerabian Empire had descended into infighting and it had been up to him to hold everything together. He had done a poor job of it. He was no politician and he was totally unprepared for the responsibility. The empire was going to fracture, even he could see it. But the appearance of these conquerors had given hope. They had presented a threat that he could have rallied everybody against. But instead, those fools in charge had panicked and had tried to protect themselves. Cowards. This was further compounded when those fools under his “command” had disobeyed him and brought almost the entire cerabian space force to Ferrograd. Morons. He had tried to redeploy some of the fleet to assist the besieged planets, but he had always been countermanded or flat out ignored. Though, now that he thought about it he wonders what good it would have done. The Immortal Empire had been outnumbered 3 to 1 and had still managed a decisive victory. This was actually why he had surrendered. While he was sure that the fortress that doubled as a palace could hold the invaders at bay, he knew that it would be only a matter of time before they broke through. And with our entire space force in ruins there was no chance of relief. To keep fighting would have been pointless and only result in more deaths than there needed to be.

       Patrick Grinder was being flown up to the “Eternal fury” to meet with Carron to discuss the surrender of the Cerabian Empire. As he was taken to the ship he was able to get a good look at it. As he stared at his destination he noticed some flashing on the hull. At first he had thought them simple lights, but they flashed too randomly to mean anything. He turned to one of his escorts and asked, “What are those flashing lights?” The soldier turned from him and looked at the ship. That they might not speak the same language crossed his mind. After a minute the soldier said, “That would be ship husks from the battle being repulsed by the shield.”
“Wait. You mean just debris and not entire ships, right?”
“No. These are mostly intact ships. Otherwise we wouldn’t be able to see them from here.”
It suddenly struck Patrick what he was looking at. “That must make that ship huge. How big is it?”
“Do I look like a tech? All I know is it’s really big. Now stop asking stupid questions.”
He decided then that it was pure power that had let these invaders win. As the ship started to fill his vision he couldn’t help but think the thing as an ancient god made real. He then remembered that Carron had said that he was part of the Council of Thirteen. This means that there are twelve others like him. He wondered if they all used ships like this. Such a force would be unstoppable. He was now close enough to make out individual guns. It sent a chill down his spine.

       It was taking forever to reach Carron. This must have been the eighth turbolift they had ridden. At least there was plenty to see. He now knew that there were at least two dominate races in the Immortal Empire. The first appeared to be human, but almost all of the ones he saw had seen had some sort of machinery attached to them. The second appeared to be related to drakes, but their skin and face was too smooth. He also got to see plenty of weaponry. Most were on turrets imbedded into the walls and followed him wherever he walked. And they were everywhere. Eventually the turbolift opened up to reveal a massive hall. It took almost ten minutes to walk to the end. There they stood before a set of massive doors. These people certainly don’t do anything small do they. The doors opened to reveal another set of doors. Patrick was a little shocked, and at first thought it was a joke. That everybody was walking forward told him that it wasn’t. The second set opened to reveal a third set of doors. The third opened to reveal a fourth and so forth. As if sensing his confusion one of the soldiers escorting him said, “The walls in this part of the ship are more than five miles thick. These hundreds of doors ensure that the entrance isn’t a massive weakness.”
“Okay, but can’t we at least get some sort of transportation?”
“No. And I’m not going to carry you. So don’t ask.”
Was that supposed to be humor? “Er. I wasn’t going to.”
Another of his escorts chimed in, “Good thing you didn’t. Stan there can barely hold his gun, let alone a person.”
“Said the man who tripped over a perfectly smooth surface.” Stan retorted.
These men are escorting me to the death of my civilization and they’re joking?
The joking continued for a while then died down. After what seemed like an eternity they reached the last door.

       The final door opened to reveal a truly gigantic room. The ceiling was lost in the shadows. The walls appeared to be made of skyscrapers with smaller rooms set into the walls. At the center of the room stood Carron, fully armored, and busy talking with some menial. At first Patrick had thought the man was wearing a mechanical suit to make himself taller, but then Carron took his helmet of. He suddenly realized that Carron filled the armor. As he was led over to this giant, he couldn’t look away. It was like looking at death incarnate, and in a sense he was. Carron reached down and grabbed Patrick by both arms and lifted him until they were both eye to eye.
“Hello. You must be Patrick Grinder, former leader of the Cerabian Empire.”
Patrick could only nod in response.
“Good. We’ve talked with a lot of your civilians and though they were disgusted with the government they still hold you in high regard. And that’s good for both us and them.”
Patrick finally found his voice, “It is?”
“OF COURSE! If you can convince the rest of you population to surrender willing to us, then it will save a great many lives, and more importantly my time.”
Patrick was positive his ears were bleeding. That was far too loud. “How am I suppose to convince them to do that? And what makes you think I could?”
“Because, like I said, the people still respect you. Explain our power, tell of our ruthlessness, inform of how willingly we would kill them if they resisted.”
“And if I don’t?”
At this Carron smiled savagely, “Then I’ll have you cloned from the neck up and use that clone like a hand puppet.”
“…” This man is insane.
“…”
“Okay. Fine, I’ll do it. But I have to know what will happen to my people?”
“The ones we took will be returned to their planets. We will help with reconstruction where needed. For the next three generations, our people will be in charge, but after that they’ll become full citizens of the Immortal Empire. Initially travel will be limited and the burden will be light, again for three generations. After that they’ll be free to travel but the demand from their planets will increase.”
Patrick was clearly surprised. He had expected his people to become little more than slaves. “Oh. That’s actually quite reasonable. Wait. You said that you’d return the ones you took. Does that mean you didn’t kill everyone on those planets?”
“OF COURSE NOT! Do you think us barbarians?”
Patrick thought this through quickly before saying, “I’ll talk to my people. I’ll see if I can convince them to join you.”
“EXCELLENT!”
“… can you put me down now?’

       And so Patrick Grinder spoke to his people. Many heeded his words, but there were still quite a few that had decided that they would keep fighting. This didn’t concern Carron in the least, for he knew that they would all be routed out and destroyed. He would leave the rest to the lords and their barons. He would check in on occasion to make sure that everything was proceeding smoothly. For now he would return to the Red City and begin plotting his next campaign. The fleets would return to their regions and begin repairs. Patrick Grinder, former grand general of the Cerabian Empire, stood next to Carron. He wore the new uniform of his position, as ambassador of his people. Carron smiled with glee. This had gone as smooth as he could have hoped.