Dr Doom in Star Wars

 The Outer Ring. Bandomir.

 752DBY.

 14 years before the Mandalorian Purge.

 Two days later.

 Victor von Doom.

 Dealing with crime was easier than getting into the villa.

 What could simple bandits do against droids that were perfect by local standards? They may not have been a match for my perfect DoomBots, but to the locals, they were death machines, reaping their enemies with phenomenal speed.

 Painted black and green, the killer droids unceremoniously stormed the lower floor of the building, which served as the base for some gang whose name I didn't even bother to remember. These nobodies were not worthy of being remembered by Doom.

 "A-a-a-a!" — exclaimed another Twi'lek as a blaster bolt flew into his chest, but did not kill him.

 The droid corrected its mistake in an instant, putting an end to the criminal's existence with a new flash of red. The last ones were exterminated without mercy or hesitation, cutting everyone down. I need to show myself as a real person, that is, cruel but fair. Someone who does not spare any scum and is a friend and protector of peaceful intelligent beings. The last part is not entirely true, because I only feel that way towards a few close people and, to some extent, towards Latvians. The locals don't evoke any feelings in me. They are expendable material for achieving my goals, nothing more, nothing less.

 This protracted execution of a gang of bandits could not go on for long, so after a few minutes I found myself in the private quarters of the crime boss.

 "Hey, iron man..." — the last one tried to croak something, but I interrupted him.

 "Kill him." — I ordered coldly, deflecting a blaster bolt aimed at my face with the back of my hand.

 A blaster hidden in a prosthetic hand? Not bad for a gangster scum like him.

 The droid put an end to the worthless life of a thirty-seven-year-old man, then silently and efficiently cut off his head to provide evidence to the customer. I don't share the locals' desire to communicate with droids, even in binary language. They are just tools, not friends.

 My metal assistants then began to search the corpses, imitating the looting activities typical of mercenaries, while I took the liberty of hacking into the gang's systems. Deciding not to waste time and not to use specialised equipment for the process of code cracking, as they call it, I simply used my still imperfect mehu-deru, and in a few seconds I hacked the device.

 "I-I-I... You don't need me anymore, Mr. Doom...?" — said the last survivor of the first gang I had exterminated in this galaxy, in a very cautious voice, walking through the corridor littered with corpses.

 "No, you're not." — I tore myself away from viewing the data and waved her away dismissively.

 Delighted, the intelligent creature immediately rushed away, eliciting a contemptuous snort from me.

 Despite the damage sustained during the clean-up, the droids fired simultaneously and accurately into the back of the head and heart of the intelligent creature who had dared to eavesdrop on Duma himself.

 And I didn't need any witnesses.

 ...I downloaded absolutely all the data, including some interesting dirt on my "employer". He is indeed one of the businessmen linked to crime... But he decided to break ties with petty crime after moving into the higher echelons of politics and exhausting the usefulness of such dirty connections. If anything happens to the current president, this can be used. An ordinary mercenary wouldn't be able to pull this off, but I...

 There has never been such nonsense on Bandomir as the number of terms served by the head of the planet, but... Anything can happen. And the current leader may die suddenly due to the intrigues of more successful competitors.

 Judging by the news from Golonet, the local equivalent of the Internet, we cannot rule out the factor of the Jedi, who love to meddle in other people's business. But at the same time, they enjoy enormous powers. And few of the weak-willed local nobodies can afford to stand up even to an ordinary Jedi, who could just as easily wipe out the criminal gang I destroyed.

 "Idiots," I commented with a hint of contempt on the primitive ambush at the exit.

 A couple of fragmentation grenades, not even modified by me, completely wiped out the five intelligent beings, not even allowing them to use any of their heavy homemade blasters.

 The survivors were finished off with precise shots from the droids, and I, stepping over one of the corpses, walked away with a majestic gait under the stunned gaze of the local rabble.

 This is what samDum has come to! Exterminating petty scum unworthy of my attention. But never mind, this is only the first step on the path to galactic fame and unimaginable power. And my essence as an adept of the Force...

 How did it go?

 Darkest by Candle Light.

 Outer Ring. Bandomir.

 At the same time.

 The President's Villa.

 Master Jedi Voonas Kapilar and Padawan Himeko.

 "I don't understand anything, Master! Nothing at all!" — exclaimed the young Zeltronka expressively, literally throwing the fluids of disappointment and resentment into the air.

 The Padawan's telepathic abilities once again slipped out of her strict control and touched Kapilar, but he banished them from his mind with a familiar movement. If Himeko could behave calmly and peacefully, it was certainly not at moments like this.

 "What don't you understand, my Padawan?" — the Mon Calamari asked phlegmatically, probing the president's personal portable computer with the Force.

 The Force psychometry, which the Jedi Master was now skilled at, was a mind-based Force technique that allowed one to "read" inanimate objects with an "inner sense" and feel past events associated with that object. All this was done by collecting insignificant psychic imprints left by living hands. When used to perfection, the projection was indistinguishable from the original object's owner, allowing the user to see events and hear sounds as if they were there in person. An extremely experienced Jedi could also sense the owner's emotions towards certain events...

 However, Voonas could only call himself average in this Force technique. Perhaps a little above average, but no more than that.

 "Who is this master who could do such a thing completely unnoticed, without leaving any traces at all?!" exclaimed the owner of the attractive orange eyes.

 Yes, Zeltrons unconsciously attract attention to everything and everyone. Even if they don't consciously want to.

 "Strange..." — The representative of the water race put aside his student's indignation for a moment. "Very strange. Even with my skills, there should have been some traces left. But... It's as if no one has ever touched this thing."

 "But the president said..." — Himeko looked at him, but the man from Daka just raised his index finger, signalling for silence.

 "I remember, apprentice. I'm not so old that I forget such things." — The Jedi smiled slightly, embarrassing the Padawan. " — The Force psychometry that you so refuse to learn..." — Kapilar did not spare his student, thoughtfully resting his chin on his hand. — It's quite exhausting, and it will take us too long to check every part of the villa and the forest around it. Our blackmailers may notice. Notice our presence and start acting.

 "What shall we do, teacher?" — The zeltronka flashed her eyes in utter bewilderment, quickly overcoming her feelings. After all, it was impossible to make a representative of her race feel embarrassed for long. Genetics, alas...

 "We will show humility and patience. If we linger here, it may arouse the blackmailers' suspicions. It will be easier and better to approach them through the demands they make of my friend's son." — Internally, the mon-calamari had already resigned himself to the fact that this lead was going nowhere.

 Of course, one could assume that this was some kind of Force adept... No, not a Sith, of course, about whom the Padawans and young knights still rave. It is known for certain that all of them were hunted down and destroyed after Ruusan. But during the reign of the Brotherhood of Darkness, a considerable number of local cults and sects formed throughout the Galaxy. And while those who followed the Light Side, such as the Corellian Green Jedi, were still tolerated, the rest... There were many of them, and their representatives were no match for the Jedi in battle, but ordinary intelligent beings could still suffer serious harm from them.

 "Master... Ah..." — Just as they were about to leave the president's villa, a young girl timidly caught his attention. "Is... Is this okay?"

 "What are you talking about, Padawan?" — The Jedi Master's large yellow eye fixed on the young Himeko.

 "Well... What these blackmailers want to blackmail the president with. He did this... This!" — She threw her hands up, staring at her master with sincere indignation.

 "Oh... Politics... Come on, let's not beat around the bush... It's a dirty business, Padawan. Compared to what I've had to deal with at times... Believe me, the current leader of Bandomir is still a very decent citizen of the Republic..." — sighing heavily, the Jedi began to explain, repeating what he had said to his previous apprentice. " — The galaxy is unjust, and we, the Jedi, are trying to fix it to the best of our modest abilities. But we must not be outside the law; we must act within its framework. And evidence obtained by criminal means cannot be used. Besides, don't you think we should focus on a much more dangerous threat first? The Dark Side and the artefacts that interact with it are much more dangerous than another corrupt official, of whom, to be honest, I can hardly count the number. Such is the nature of intelligent beings, and it is in our power only to mitigate that nature. But only within the law, otherwise we will be no better than them and set a bad example. We are the Guardians of the World, not an agency that investigates such cases...

 The Jedi Master may have spoken important words in a instructive tone, but his thoughts were elsewhere. For example, he was wondering who the mysterious hacker and blackmailer was working for. The only option was something related to the Mandalorians. Alas, in the face of fierce competition in the agricultural market and all the vicissitudes of the galactic economy, the son of his old acquaintance was forced to sell food to these warlike barbarians, among others.

 Barbarians who had been troubling the High Council of the Order for many years.

 Perhaps the blackmailers and burglars were from the Republic? Some overly enthusiastic senator decided to use this method to influence another planet in the Outer Ring, which, to put it mildly, doesn't listen to the Senate very well.

 We'll have to contact the Order... Check the senators' movements. Maybe we can find something to go on? If a sect is involved, the matter becomes much more important.

 Middle Ring. A planet unknown to the star charts.

 752 DBYA.

 14 years before the Mandalorian Purge.

 Three days later.

 Victor von Doom.

 "Quick, simple... But effective." — my self-proclaimed teacher was forced to admit after hearing the truth, skillfully mixed with lies, presented to him. "Although you shouldn't have used the Force. You should have waited longer and come up with a better plan..." — Darth Varborus frowned, unaware of my plan to transform myself from a mercenary into a king.

 "And I'm not going to please you." — Fully aware of my value to this fool, I once again allowed myself to show my true character, rather than acting again. He doesn't deserve it unless absolutely necessary.

 "Yes, yes, yes..." — He grimaced, his eyes flashing with anger. "But you do realise that this is not nearly enough to withdraw funds for your whims, apprentice?"

 "I know, you fool!" — I raised my voice slightly, once again annoyed by his attitude towards me. A future dead man is a future dead man, but for now he is alive and managing to get on my nerves! " — I'm heading back to the Archives. I will increase my power so that I can kill you sooner, you worm.

 "You're getting even more insolent!" — the bald bearded man barked, sending more powerful, scarlet lightning bolts at me. However, I responded with exactly the same, so that none of the attacks could overcome each other. And so the confrontation, accompanied by a light show, soon turned into a stalemate. "Good..." — The Sith Lord smiled contentedly, changing his mood in a way that was completely abnormal for a sane person. "Very good, my ungrateful but worthy heir to the Sith legacy!" His eyes flashed with concentrated madness, tightly bound to the Dark Side, which itself loves to drive its followers mad.

 However, I don't care about the fools and idiots who succumb to its influence.

 Trying to express my attitude towards the Sith with my entire gaze, I turned abruptly and headed for my chosen spot.

 But instead of pursuing my stated goals, I continued to study what the Sith call the Great Plan. The base systems on this nameless planet with a suitable atmosphere, discovered by one of the Sith and not marked on any map, had been hacked by me a couple of years ago. By galactic standards, they were practically perfect, but against my magnificent intellect, they were nothing!

 In fact, that's why I knew even more than that moron Varborus told me!

 ...The Great Plan itself...

 Was essentially nothing.

 An empty shell. A concept of great and mighty revenge against the Jedi.

 No, I'm not against revenge itself, not at all... But there must be objective and adequate reasons for it. But who should Bane's followers take revenge on? All the Sith of the last millennia were almost always descendants of these same Jedi, i.e. complete nobodies, not even close to their ancient predecessors. And the last of them were destroyed not by the Jedi, but by Darth Bane himself!

 As for the details... The current pitiful imitations of the ancient Sith simply did not know how to defeat the Jedi when there were tens of thousands of monks and only two of them. So they started with something simpler... undermining the Galactic Republic. A frankly delusional plan.

 Darth Bane also came up with a number of methods and means, which were not bad even by my standards, to spread corruption and division among the various worlds that made up the galactic hegemony. Which, in essence, was not a Republic in the sense that I understood it. Rather, it was a very loose confederation that had independently adopted the new methods of the Sith.

 In, ha ha ha, democratic states, corruption has always been very widespread, and local democracy was no exception.

 The Sith only needed to nudge it in the right direction, not spread it. The latter was impossible in any significant quantities due to the gigantic size of the state, and there were only two Sith. Parallel to this pitiful Grand Plan, they also had to train and improve themselves.

 Yes, Bane and his followers had gained access to the vast financial resources of the Brotherhood of Darkness, and the founder of the Rule of Two himself had created an extensive information gathering network, the centre of which was now located on Sytrik IV... But that was still not enough to influence the entire galaxy. Especially since the Sith were at work... Slowly. Very slowly.

 Cowards, weaklings and fools, too limited in their knowledge to take truly large-scale measures. Simply accumulating money and information will get you nowhere. Both can be easily gained and easily lost in an instant.

 Not to mention that this plan is complete crap. After all, when all these worlds are under your control, you will have to deal with countless corrupt officials and nobodies, entire dynasties of whom rose to power thanks to you! And no power other than total control over such people will stop them!

 "Hmm..." I said thoughtfully, slumping in my chair and once again looking over the plans for the principality where this body was born.

 My triumphant return must be prepared in advance, for without outside help, they will not rise up on their own. It is necessary to create the right conditions, when the rebels will be strong enough to defeat Prince Hyperborea's royalists, and at the same time, sufficiently divided and ignorant of military affairs, so that an experienced mercenary will be received positively.

 Force would solve many problems, but the uprising and my reign must be transparent and understandable to everyone. There must be no mystery or blind spots that could arouse suspicion. My public persona must not cause even the slightest concern among the Jedi... Perhaps I should even befriend one of them so that he can lobby for my interests in the Order?

 Yes, undoubtedly... Choose someone young and easily influenced... But that's for later, when I'm sure that none of the Jedi can uncover my Hidden Force. And that moment should be tested on a Jedi who is definitely expendable.

 Plus, I need to define the goals of my expansion after I ascend to the throne, because one provincial planet is not enough for a suitable material base...

 And yet, how annoying is the fact that so far, no Force-based search methods or meditation have given me even the slightest clue as to where my reborn mother is... Not a clue! Why do I have to bother with these fools, intrigues and politics!

 Grrr...

 Taking a few deep breaths, I clamped my emotions in the steel vise of my will and brought my mind back to business.

 So, the current state of Hyperbernia.

 Enough... A universal planet by local standards.

 The prince, wishing to strengthen his own power as much as possible and prevent it from being influenced from within, which I approve of, did not focus exclusively on the export of mineral resources, of which there are plenty on the planet. There was also agriculture, which could feed the population with almost no food imports. Heavy industry, like light industry, was... bad.

 In this galaxy, corporations have enormous influence, so they are in charge of manufacturing everything larger than speeders, the local anti-gravity motorcycles. The state itself produces almost nothing, which is radically different from what I have established in my native Latveria.

 As for technology, which my country was also famous for and surpassed the rest of the world combined, everything was also bad in Hyperbernia.

 The overall level of technology is average for the galaxy, but... Nothing is being researched or discovered. In this respect, the galaxy is also surprising. Research in this field was carried out either by various institutes known throughout the galaxy, which were in fact not subordinate to anyone and lived off sponsors... And this despite the fact that the Republic has its own states, kingdoms, republics and dictatorships! And they did not bother with such a method of ensuring independence!

 The level of globalisation is simply... terrifying. But perhaps there is no other way for these fools to unite most of the galaxy. They are too limited, even more so than the Sith. Besides... Democracy, damn it.

 And I have to clean up all these Augean stables! Otherwise, in this chaos, I will never, ever find my mother, even if I become the most powerful Adept of the Force in local history!

 His steel-clad fist struck the armrest, causing the plastic beneath the chair's fabric to crunch pitifully.

 ... No, Mephisto, you've definitely decided not to make this easy for me. But believe me, you damned demon, even if I don't find my mother in this galaxy, I'll gut you myself and find out where my mother's soul is!

 Lightning bolts struck the well-worn wall, which I had prudently stripped of all the shelves and cabinets containing dozens of various treatises and holocrons collected by the Sith.

 Having vented my anger with this very effective method, I sighed again and returned to my planning. Even my brilliant intellect could not come up with outstanding plans without wasting time...

***

patreon.com/posts/dr-doom-in-star-132737081