Borderlands: Conquest

Author note: 

Rushed ending yes I know but I'll leave it here, I've written for too long as it's finally time we put this old dog down to rest. Good day to all; I know there are some loose storylines but I've been burned out. It's time I conclude this fanfic and move onto another work. 

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Pov: Alexander

Many families frequented the Imperium, many of whom served with an unwavering loyalty. Under the Imperium's rule, every man and woman, regardless of their standing, was required to serve. Age was but the only limit, a minimum of two years was required but many who served remained - the benefits were numerous. 

The Sulivan family was one such family that broke this typical chain and instead commanded a presence within the inner circles of Ironhold. It was merged by Richie Rich Zaford and Cherry Hodunk, two unassuming individuals who embodied their respective clans' disciplines.

Richie Rick Zaford thrived during the Imperium's rule. His sharp mind allowed liquor trade routes to flourish, and working alongside Aurelia, they became quite useful. He made his foolish family flourish, and their extensive training under the legion sharpened their skills.

Similarly, Cherry Hodunk was a technician who modernized the sale of weaponry to the ECHOnet. The transfer of weaponry through the net is accessible through a store. The patent and rights to the technology were given to the Imperium and she was given a percentage of each sale sold through the ECHOnet. 

This Elevated the Hodunk clan into one of the wealthiest families yet prior to the engagement, Cherry Hodunk and Richie Zaford were secretly dating. Unknown to most, the two were childhood sweethearts.

Had I not unified Pandora, the two families most likely would've led one another to destruction. Such was the case of Pandora, self-destruction was often a played site. The couples that never once had the option of pure love were now thriving under my rule. 

But, they were also a risk. For all their worth they were also proving to be quite a thorn. Their family represented individualism in an Empire that thrived in unison. While Cherry and Richie were fine individuals, their families appeared to place more importance on their growth and not on my empire.

"My liege, the winter returns... although much calmer," Jeremiah spoke, the view of snow slowly sledding across the skylight.

Watching the man's gaze look softly over the snow he seemed to contemplate memories.

"You appear lost in thought." I voiced, walking by his side.

"It brings back bad memories. The snow was never kind. It feels almost strange to see it return." He explained watching children play amongst the snow.

"I use to fear the cold, now I see children playing it..."

"Pandora was never kind to the weak." I voiced.

"I know, it's why it's almost surreal..." He smiled back.

"I have a dilemma." 

"A dilimia? Perhaps the Sulivan family?

Jeremiah's perceptiveness never failed to impress. His deep understanding of the undercurrents within the Imperium often preempted even my own reflections. I met his gaze, acknowledging his intuition with a slight nod.

"Yes, Jeremiah. The Sulivan family. While Richie and Cherry have proven invaluable, their influence is spreading beyond acceptable limits. They've consolidated power and wealth in ways that border on insubordination." I paused, letting the weight of my words settle. "Their individualism is admirable in a sense, but it undermines the unity we strive for."

Jeremiah folded his arms, his stoic expression softening into one of contemplation. "They are a double-edged sword. Their loyalty to you is genuine, but their ambition might someday blind them to the empire's needs. Have they made overt moves against your rule?"

"Not yet," I replied, pacing slowly. "But their growth is unchecked. Their families prioritize their personal wealth and stature over service to the Imperium. It sets a dangerous precedent."

Jeremiah's eyes lingered on the playing children outside, his voice tinged with quiet resolve. "Then we must remind them of their place. Loyalty without humility is a brittle thing, easily shattered."

A moment of silence stretched between us before I broke it. "Cherry and Richie have their uses. To sever ties with them prematurely would be wasteful. But their families... they require closer observation."

Jeremiah's lips pressed into a thin line. "Do you wish for the CAD to intervene?"

I shook my head. "No. Not yet. The CAD's presence would provoke questions, suspicions. I want their allegiance, not their fear. For now, assign trusted agents to monitor their dealings. Should their ambitions grow too bold, we'll act."

He inclined his head. "As you command."

Turning to face him fully, I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Jeremiah, you've always had a way of seeing through the murk of politics. Your insights guide more than just military strategy. I trust you to handle this matter delicately."

He gave a rare smile, though it was fleeting. "You honor me, my liege. But I fear the Sulivans will not take kindly to any interference."

"They don't need to," I said firmly. "So long as the Imperium thrives, their comfort is a privilege, not a right. They would do well to remember that."

Jeremiah nodded, his gaze once again drifting to the snow. "Very well. I'll see it done."

As he turned to leave, I looked back at the skylight. Snow continued to fall softly, blanketing Pandora in an uncharacteristic peace. A rare sight, yet fleeting—much like trust and loyalty. The Sulivan family would soon understand that their prosperity was not independent of my will. And if they forgot, I would remind them.

Pandora had no room for weakness, but neither did it tolerate arrogance. Only the Imperium endured.

As Jeremiah departed, leaving me to my thoughts, my comm device vibrated against my wrist. I activated the link, and Isaac Sato's voice emerged, calm yet edged with satisfaction.

"My liege," Isaac began, his tone deliberate. "Promethea's underbelly is now ours. The coup has been executed flawlessly. The high-ranking members of the gang are either dead or scattered. My men ensured it looked like a calculated hit by rival factions backed by corporate interests. No suspicions point our way."

A faint smile tugged at my lips. "Impressive, Isaac. And you've kept yourself inconspicuous?"

"I've taken a minor injury as a cover," he replied smoothly, a faint chuckle escaping. "Just enough to sell the story of my miraculous survival. The men trust me implicitly now. They believe I barely escaped with my life, rallying them against this supposed corporate conspiracy."

I paused, considering the ramifications of Isaac's maneuvering. "Good. With the underbelly under your control, we've secured a foothold on Promethea. The corporations will scramble to maintain their influence, blind to the fact that we now pull the strings."

Isaac's voice sharpened. "And what of our next move, my liege? Vladoff continues to expand, emboldened by their recent acquisitions. Their grip on Pandora and beyond grows tighter by the day."

"Vladoff's overreach will be their undoing," I replied coldly. "Their arrogance blinds them. They believe their weaponry and propaganda can suppress any resistance. It's time we remind them why the Imperium stands unchallenged."

Isaac remained silent, awaiting further instruction.

"Begin funneling resources from Promethea into our operations on Pandora," I continued. "We'll consolidate our position and strike Vladoff where they least expect it. I want their supply chains disrupted, their strongholds dismantled. And when they realize what's happening, it'll be too late."

Isaac's agreement was immediate. "It will be done. And if I may, my liege, their leadership remains fractured. Reports suggest internal conflicts among their ranks. It could be an opportunity to sow further discord."

I allowed myself a moment of satisfaction. Isaac's efficiency and cunning were invaluable, a tool wielded with precision.

"Exploit their divisions," I ordered. "Feed their paranoia. Turn their leaders against one another. By the time we strike, they'll be too consumed by infighting to mount a defense."

"As you command," Isaac replied, his tone resolute. "I'll ensure our plans proceed without issue."

The line went silent, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more. Promethea was ours, and soon Vladoff would be brought to heel.

Jeremiah's earlier words echoed in my mind: 'Pandora was never kind to the weak.'

It wasn't just Pandora. The galaxy itself had no tolerance for weakness. Under the Imperium, strength was not just valued; it was a necessity.

Vladoff would learn that lesson soon enough.

---

The planet Vilkrum lay shrouded in a perpetual storm, its skies darkened by black clouds streaked with crimson lightning. This forsaken rock, a bastion of Vladoff's desperation, stood as the final obstacle to Alexander's vision for Pandora. Towering skyscrapers and fortified structures loomed over desolate streets, their surfaces bristling with weaponry and mechanized defenses. Above, the Imperium's fleet maintained an unrelenting bombardment, its firepower raining down in precision strikes designed to cripple, not destroy. Alexander had made it clear—the people of Vilkrum were not his enemies; only Sergei Vladoff and his war machine were.

Standing on the bridge of his flagship, Alexander adjusted his cloak, its edges frayed from countless battles. His gaze was fixed on the chaotic surface below, a landscape of craters, shattered metal, and swirling ash.

"Hold the orbital strikes," he ordered, his voice calm but resolute. "Keep their anti-air defenses suppressed, but I will take the fight to the ground myself."

Jeremiah, standing nearby, clenched his jaw. "Sir, with all due respect, this is unnecessary. Our forces are more than capable of—"

"No," Alexander interrupted, his tone final. "This battle isn't just about victory; it's about sending a message. Sergei's defiance must end here and now, and the galaxy must see it."

Jeremiah nodded reluctantly, recognizing the determination in his leader's eyes. "Understood. We'll maintain fire support. Good hunting, Alexander."

Without another word, Alexander strode toward the ship's deployment bay. As he descended into the atmosphere in a sleek drop pod, he felt the familiar hum of energy coursing through him. The storm outside lashed at the pod, but it held steady, its reinforced plating glowing faintly from the friction of reentry.

The pod impacted the ground with a thunderous crash, obliterating a squad of Vladoff soldiers who had been stationed nearby. As the dust settled, Alexander emerged, his energy blade igniting with a sharp hiss. His armor, black and crimson, glinted menacingly in the dim light. He stood alone, a titan among mortals, and began his march toward the heart of Vladoff's stronghold.

The first wave of resistance came swiftly. Ground units poured out from hidden bunkers and armored vehicles rolled onto the streets, their turrets swiveling to target the lone figure. Alexander raised his hand, and a translucent barrier shimmered into existence, absorbing the initial barrage of bullets and plasma bolts. With a flick of his wrist, the barrier expanded outward, a concussive wave that sent the attackers sprawling.

He charged, his blade a blur of energy. The first soldier he reached didn't even have time to scream before being cleaved in two. Alexander moved like a force of nature, each strike of his blade precise and devastating. An armored mech attempted to block his path, its cannons unleashing a torrent of fire. Alexander leapt onto its chassis, driving his blade through its core. The mech convulsed violently before collapsing in a heap of smoldering metal.

From above, the Imperium's ships provided fire support, their cannons targeting enemy strongpoints with pinpoint accuracy. Skyscrapers housing anti-aircraft emplacements crumbled under the relentless bombardment, their debris crashing onto the streets below. Despite the chaos, Alexander's focus remained unshaken. He advanced relentlessly, his powers carving a path of destruction through Vladoff's defenses.

As he approached the central district, Sergei's forces began deploying their heaviest units. Massive walking tanks, each the size of a small building, emerged from underground hangars. Their cannons fired shells that left craters in the ground and obliterated anything caught in their blast radius. Alexander faced them without hesitation. Channeling his energy, he extended his blade into a massive arc of crackling power and swung it downward. The arc sliced through one of the tanks, splitting it in half with a deafening explosion.

Another tank fired directly at him, the shell whistling through the air. Alexander hardened his skin to a metallic sheen, the projectile impacting him directly. The explosion engulfed him in fire and smoke, but as the dust cleared, he stood unscathed, his blade glowing brighter than ever.

"Is this all Vladoff has to offer?" he called out, his voice amplified by his suit's speakers. "Send me Sergei, or I will tear this city apart to find him!"

The response came not from Sergei, but from a new wave of attackers. Cyborg soldiers, heavily augmented and armed with experimental weapons, emerged from the shadows. Their leader, a hulking figure encased in mechanized armor, stepped forward. His voice was cold and mechanical.

"Alexander of the Imperium," the cyborg intoned. "You will go no further."

Alexander smirked, his blade crackling with anticipation. "You should have stayed in the shadows."

The battle that followed was nothing short of ferocious. The cyborgs were faster and stronger than their human counterparts, their weapons designed to penetrate even the toughest armor. But Alexander's powers gave him the edge. He danced through their ranks, his blade a blur of light and energy. Each strike was lethal, each movement precise. The leader of the cyborgs put up a formidable fight, his mechanized fists capable of cratering the ground with each punch. But Alexander's agility and raw power proved too much. With a final strike, he decapitated the cyborg, its body collapsing in a shower of sparks.

The central tower loomed ahead, its spire piercing the storm clouds above. Alexander strode toward it, his armor scorched but his resolve unbroken. Sergei's voice crackled over a loudspeaker, dripping with venom.

"You've come far, Alexander," Sergei said. "But this is where your crusade ends. You will find nothing here but death."

"We'll see about that," Alexander muttered, stepping through the massive doors of the tower. Inside, the halls were eerily silent, save for the hum of machinery. The air was thick with tension as Alexander ascended toward the command center.

The final confrontation took place in a vast chamber at the top of the tower. Sergei Vladoff stood at its center, encased in a massive suit of mechanized armor. His chain-axe glowed with energy, its edges sparking menacingly.

"Alexander," Sergei growled. "You should have stayed on Pandora. Here, you are nothing but prey."

Alexander ignited his blade, its light casting long shadows across the room. "And you should have stayed in the past. This ends now."

The two titans clashed, their weapons colliding with earth-shaking force. Sergei's brute strength was matched by Alexander's speed and precision. The chamber quaked with each exchange, machinery sparking and collapsing under the strain. Sergei unleashed a barrage of missiles from his armor, but Alexander deflected them with a barrier, the explosions lighting up the room.

"You're persistent," Sergei snarled, swinging his chain-axe in a wide arc. "But you'll die like all the others who've challenged me."

Alexander sidestepped the attack, his blade slashing through one of Sergei's servos. "You talk too much," he retorted, his voice calm.

As the battle raged, it became clear that Sergei's armor was faltering. Alexander exploited every weakness, his strikes relentless and unerring. Finally, with a powerful lunge, he drove his blade through Sergei's chest, piercing the core of his armor.

Sergei staggered, his eyes wide with disbelief. "This… isn't… over…" he gasped.

"It is," Alexander said coldly, withdrawing his blade. Sergei's massive form collapsed, the light fading from his armor.

As the storm outside began to abate, Alexander stood over Sergei's lifeless body, his blade still glowing with energy. The battle was won, and with it, the war. Vilkrum would be rebuilt, not as a symbol of defiance, but as a testament to the Imperium's unity and strength.

Alexander stepped to the edge of the tower, looking out over the battlefield. The Imperium's forces had secured the city, their banners rising above the rubble. He activated his comms, his voice carrying across the fleet.

"This is Alexander. Sergei is dead. Victory is ours."

The cheers of his soldiers echoed through the comms, a sound of triumph and hope. Alexander deactivated his blade, the storm's winds carrying away the last remnants of battle. He knew there was still work to be done, but for now, the galaxy would know that the Imperium's resolve was unbreakable.