Dr Doom in Star Wars

 Middle Ring. Hyperbernia

 752DBY.

 14 years before the Mandalorian Purge.

 A few hours later.

 Darth Doom.

 As soon as he was killed, or officially committed suicide instead of being executed for crimes against Hyperbernia, a document surfaced stating that the former prince had abdicated in favour of the mercenary Victor von Doom. The laws of the fairly old planet-state allowed for such a legal loophole as abdication in favour of a non-blood relative, since at one time the Sith of the old empires who had settled here did not want to bother with proclaiming new rulers on the planet.

 Even if he had not officially committed suicide but had been executed, the abdication would still have been valid due to the same ancient laws introduced by the followers of the Dark Side.

 Practical.

 It's not for nothing that I let the Sith believe that I belong to their teachings. For now, it's beneficial to me, and the knowledge is useful, so I'm not ashamed to consider myself a Sith. It will be an addition to Dark Mage, Sorcerer, Demon Summoner... And a number of other titles that all light mystics nervously cross themselves at, even though they despise Christianity.

 "Hah." — Seeing the confusion on the faces of the former rebels, now new members of the Parliament I had organised, I smiled.

 This was their first time, and I was doing it for the second time... So the former rebels who wanted to restrict me quickly became lost in all the bureaucratic work that needed to be done during a rapid coup.

 Bringing officials and military personnel to heel, listening to representatives of various partners of the kingdom, on whose planet a number of shadow warehouses belonging to corporations are located for a pittance... There were so many details that even I sometimes resorted to the analytical assistance of one of the Dumbroids, specially modified for this purpose... Not to mention a half-baked lawyer and owner of a number of pubs across the planet.

 My man, a businessman and, in fact, a smuggler, was now busy with a very long and thorough reckoning with the murderers of his daughter and those who ordered this tragic event.

 Not a day has passed, and I have already entangled them in such a web of bureaucracy that by the end of the evening they will have only nominal power. All their cells will quickly believe that now, after the coup and their leaders' appointment to high-profile positions, everything will work out. Even their leaders themselves will not be able to shake them from this belief — I will indeed restore the local people's lives to their previous level, and then improve them.

 But to do that, I had to complete the process of transferring power. To avoid problems, we decided not to change the state structure or the local constitution, at the initiative of the rebels themselves, who understood how much work would be involved otherwise... But the rest required immediate action.

 "And so..." — I lowered my gaze to the representative of the bureaucratic apparatus who was entering. The capital was mostly captured by my droids and had been recruited, because they didn't really care who they worked for or who they stole from... But they were close, and I could deal with them later, but the one who had entered... represented the rest of the bureaucrats from the rest of the planet.

 Which we did not actually control. There are no serious armed forces there, but we also have to resolve the issue with representatives of the previous government. If the capital's aristocrats were captured by us, then the provincial ones... Look, they sent a negotiator.

 "Greetings, Prince Dum..." — clearly a skilled flatterer, he was somewhat similar to the previous prince. But this one will be smarter, you can see it in his eyes.

 And since I had skilfully legalised the Jedi's abilities in the Force with my own genius, I had been freely probing everything around me with this mystical power, without fear of being exposed.

 A ridiculous little man.

 "King Doom," I corrected the envoy. "This legal technicality will be resolved as soon as possible.

 "Oh... I beg your deepest and most humble apologies, Your Majesty..." — He quickly understood the change, bowing even deeper and clearly considering me a petty king who loved flattery.

 Well, whatever. I only need a little more time to finish the Doomdroids and replace a significant portion of the planet's rulers with them.I'll leave the organic ones too, they do have their advantages, but... Pathetic nobodies like this one... Oh, who cares what this sycophant's name is, they will be mercilessly exterminated by my droids.

 "Listen to me carefully, emissary." — I interrupted his verbosity. "You can think of me as you like... But the facts are as follows. Your rebels brought me to the throne. But I captured this palace myself, with the help of my own droids. You could see their effectiveness on the streets of the capital. And you can see it now..." — I waved towards the Dumbroids standing by the walls of the throne room. "So I am quite free in my actions. To calm the rebels in the capital, there will be some changes... But the provinces, which you represent... I'm not particularly interested in them. When..." I glanced meaningfully at the intelligent man who had swallowed hard under my gaze. "You will swear allegiance to the new king of this world, and everything will remain as it was before the events of recent months that provoked the population. You also suffered from them, as I understand it... But you must understand. I am a former mercenary. Our diplomacy is brute force. And if anyone, anywhere, mentions the previous dynasty or the repressed capitalists... I will visit them accompanied by a hundred combat droids. I doubt the loudmouths will have anything to fight back with." — I pressed the man even harder. "Me. Clear. Am I making myself clear?"

 "Perfectly..." — The envoy swallowed heavily and noisily, wiping his forehead with a white handkerchief. — Then... I will convey Your Majesty's position to my acquaintances...

 "And quickly. Away." — I waved him away lazily, putting my hands back on the overly soft armrests of the throne.

 The latter would have to be replaced entirely... Like so much else in this palace, which I intended to transform into a replica of my earthly castle.

 But now I needed to talk to the second person I needed at that moment.

 "Admiral Talex." — I greeted the hologram of an old military man who appeared before me, looking at me intently.

 "Lord Doom... I've heard a lot about you. Metalorn." — he replied briefly, maintaining his dignity, not acknowledging the newly crowned king... But not daring to be too disrespectful either.

 We'll see if we can work with him. Even after I have firmly and irrevocably secured my place on the throne.

 "You are not stupid, admiral. And you know why we are talking to you right now." — Leaning back in my throne, I said with a characteristic hint.

 "Judging by your surname, you may be an aristocrat, just like me... So you also know what I want." — Shrugging his shoulders, the old spaceship pilot, whose experience could be useful to me, stared at me intently.

 And so his patience for disobedience was higher than usual.

 "The entire Talex family has been captured. There are no casualties..." — I took out one of the datapads. "There are several non-fatal and completely curable injuries to some of the more aggressive members of your family... But they have only themselves to blame for deciding to take on the Dumbroids, who are superior to them in every way.

 "The Dumdroids..." — the admiral said quietly, and if I had only my natural hearing, I would not have heard the note of interest in his voice. "Let's assume that's true. I have complete control of the fleet... Your Majesty." — The admiral grimaced and made a concession.

 Excellent, progress is being made.

 "You must be interested in the fate of your family... Some restrictions will be imposed for resistance. But frankly speaking..." — I shrugged my shoulders, which were covered in the strongest alloys. — Only because of you and your defection will the restrictions be purely symbolic and for show, to calm the population.

 "You... You are open, Your Majesty." — once again showing his extraordinary mind, the admiral said in an inexpressive tone. At least, unlike the bureaucrats, he had bothered to find out from us what the title of the new ruler of the planet was.

 "I am open and generous to those who obey me. And I feel completely opposite emotions towards those who do not." — I conveyed this information to the old admiral's mind with complete sincerity.

 But what kind of fleet is this? If we ignore the local delusional and confusing designations of ship classes and use the more familiar ones from Earth, from the Second World War, the Hyperborean fleet consisted of three light cruisers and a dozen destroyers with several squadrons of star fighters.

 And all of it was at least half a millennium out of date.

 It's just not funny.

 "Then... I see no point in wasting time and angering the man who holds my family in his hands. The Hyperbernia Space Self-Defence Fleet swears allegiance to you... Your Majesty, Victor von Doom." — The hologram of the admiral bowed deeply, standing at full height.

 "You are intelligent enough to understand the situation." — I nodded in satisfaction, feeling my mood lift. I had always enjoyed working with people who did not fall into the category of underdeveloped nobodies, empty-headed fools, or notorious traitors.

 How few there were on Earth, and how few there were here...

 "I dare say you've lived a long life, sir." — the officer replied in an even, measured tone. "How soon can I see my family?"

 "As soon as you go downstairs and sign all the necessary papers with your ship's crews." — I shrugged, deciding to show magnanimity.

 Let them think that the change of power will be as superficial and gentle as possible. Let them think.

 Middle Ring. Near Hyperborea.

 A day later.

 Diplomatic envoy of the Galactic Senate, Ether Barks, and his assistant.

 There was a familiar vibration of the ship, signifying its exit from hyperspace into normal reality, marking a series of fears raging in the head of the diplomat who had been sent to the next petty king.

 In general, governments change quite frequently in the Republic. There were a great many inhabited planets, as well as intelligent beings ambitious enough to become regional kings. Not that the Senate cared much, and such kings continued to exist peacefully... But this time, several factors came together at once.

 First, Ether Barks himself, one of the many thousands of members of the Republic's diplomatic corps, had lost a lot of money somewhere and was forced to fly to this godforsaken place. He lost to a mere senator, who sold Barks' debt to his boss. And the senator decided to use a young human man from Alderaan for his own manipulations.

 Why on earth did he need another petty king, even if he was in his sector, to be officially recognised as a legitimate ruler?

 Being a bad player, but not an idiot, Ether believed that a simple bribe was involved, which is why he was forced to fly from Coruscant to the Middle Ring.

 And it was not yet clear what kind of king this would be! No one would care if a diplomat quarrelled with him and he was killed! There were hundreds of candidates eager to take his place!

 "Problem, problem, problem..." — Pacing nervously around the ship, the native of the galactic capital began to think at a feverish pace.

 Stopping and shaking his head, the dark-haired man began to pore over the smooth lines of the datapad, which contained information about the provincial kinglet with whom, by a twist of fate, a representative of an ancient family from the capital was forced to communicate.

 But alas... Diplomatic traditions had not been abolished, and his father always repeated that without them, they would not have achieved even a tenth of their current position.

 "Calm down, Efi... The senator would not vouch for someone who kills intelligent people left and right. You may not be high-ranking, but you are still a diplomat, and your death... would not reflect well on the senator. So he must have come to an agreement with his little king. One way or another." The mocking words of the second passenger on the ship, and the last of the organic beings, were like a cold shower. All the others were droids, including the pilot.

 He looked at his assistant, his friend, and, why hide it in his own thoughts, his lover. Being of the Pantoran race, she was quite human-like and at the same time... exotic. But she was not without brains, otherwise her father would not have allowed his son to appoint her to an official position.

 "Yes, I understand... But he's a bloodthirsty mercenary from the ass end of the galaxy! Who knows what he won't like?! Let's just hope that this combat droid enthusiast..." — the young man shook his head, not finishing his thought, and sat down in the chair next to his girlfriend.

 "Mention her family. Even if he's the roughest barbarian, he'll definitely want a ransom." — said the blonde girl with a distinct chuckle, dressed in clothes that were very unusual for the diplomatic corps. However, she explained to her colleagues that it was all part of her preparation for a long mission to another backwater of the galaxy, and that it was the local national colour.

 The funniest thing about all this for the girl was that people believed Kalise Walt. Not just because of her connection to the rich son of an influential family, but because of her natural charm... Which helped her snare Efi. And unlike her less successful colleagues, she genuinely loved this mama's boy who loved to gamble away his father's money.

 And she helped him do it, and not in small amounts.

 For which Efi's father was grateful, and it was him that the gold digger went to first, even before the seduction process began.

 In the end, she understood that the old, seasoned diplomat would understand the situation and the possibility of another, less scrupulous money-hungry woman appearing. Compared to her, Calissa seemed like a very advantageous and cheap candidate who would not cause any trouble, hiding behind the back of a lovesick fool.

 And she did indeed understand something about diplomacy. Much more than the entire, ha-ha-ha, diplomatic corps of the Senate, whose grandiose failures were almost legendary.

 In general, everyone was satisfied, and all that remained was to overcome the turmoil that stood in her way to prosperity. No matter what she said to reassure Efi, the former mercenary who had become the king of a small planet could be reckless enough to kill them. And her father, who had decided to play the role of a strict and righteous father, had not paid off the debt... No, he would surely come to his senses in a couple of weeks... But in those weeks, they could be turned into a sieve.

 However, the identity of the person who pulled people out of burning houses on Metalorn along with the Jedi... gave her some hope.

 No, not in terms of good character — it was obvious that the journalists had been bribed... But in terms of the mercenary's intelligence, because only a fool would organise such a PR campaign, which would make it easy for the population to accept him as their new monarch.

 Well... It's much easier to deal with an ambitious military leader who understands the benefits of the press, which supposedly only gets in the way, than with a barbarian tyrant from distant systems.

 "So here's the deal, listen to me carefully, my dear Efi... * * *

 The diplomats who landed at the spaceport were met by a detachment of local law enforcement officers, among whom were droids of unknown design and green colouring, easily mistaken for people in heavy armour, and there were twice as many of them as the law enforcement officers themselves.

 The latter glanced nervously at their steel assistants, which immediately made it clear to Pantoranka that these intelligent beings were among those who had fought against the droids and defected to the new regime.

 Without much ado, they took both diplomats by the white hands and headed down the obviously recently restored streets of the city, which led them to a pompous palace of considerable size. However, it said nothing to either the man or the woman about its owner, for it could not have been built in a couple of days, which meant it belonged to the planet's previous owner.

 "Well, well, well..." — as soon as the guards checked them for weapons and other dangerous items and they entered, a small figure jumped out at them from a side passage...

 "Who are you?" — the son of the ancient Barks family asked reflexively, looking at... Judging by all appearances, a mercenary.

 At first glance, she could be mistaken for a human, but this impression was immediately shattered by two red horns pressed against the sides of her face and temples, as well as a thin, actively moving tail. Even with a decent knowledge of xenobiology, it was impossible to determine the race of this creature clad in multiple pouches and a bulletproof vest.

 The blood on the worn cloak of this intelligent creature and the blaster of some modified type, clearly not common in the Central Worlds, did not add to the diplomats' peace of mind.

 Not to mention the predatory gaze of those yellowish eyes, which seemed to glow even in daylight...

 "Chancellor of the Republic! Uh!" — The small mercenary jerked forward, and now her affiliation was obvious, after which she laughed, attaching her weapon to the mounts on her sides. "Come on, hurry up, Mr. Doom doesn't like to be kept waiting... Well, damn it, you're those, dipl... What's your name... Anyway, you're the ones who like to solve problems with your tongues. You should understand! Come on!" She grinned... Taking the characteristic round thermal detonators from her pouches, she began to... juggle them.

 The diplomats, who considered themselves cunning but had never encountered real danger before, couldn't stand it and jumped back with a loud squeal.

 On the same planet.

 Two hours later.

 Darth Doom.

 "Funny little guys... So pure, not used to the other side of life." — the saboteur commented with a laugh on the Senate representatives hiding behind the steel door.

 They clearly considered it beneath them to visit a provincial planet in the Middle Ring, like another American colleague who would never have gone to Latveria even before it was ruled by a terrible and terrifying dictator... Me.

 That's why I completely agreed with Vi's statement. If it weren't for my influence over the Senator, whom I will later take under my direct control, preferably when I subjugate the entire sector... They would not have come here, and I would have become one of the many illegal rulers who seized power by force, and those same Jedi would have had every right to cut me down with their lightsabers.

 At least, they would have tried.

 "Did you carry out my instructions?" — I asked the one whose sabotage skills had allowed my not-so-smart droids to set off explosions to distract the Jedi Master from his apprentice.

 "Yes, yes, yes..." — the pretty girl replied, wagging her tail. Now that she was cleansed of the dirt of Nar Shaddaa, it was clear that the mercenary would grow into an attractive young woman.

 True, I hadn't yet figured out how I could use this moment.

 Not for personal satisfaction, surely? I'm not a little boy who lives exclusively with his head down there anymore. So I need to think further... Or not bother and use her exclusively as a professional saboteur, who, according to my surveillance of her activities, is constantly improving herself in this field.

 "Since I'm not forcing you to write reports, please tell me them verbally and in a little more detail!" — I said more dramatically than I actually felt, glaring at the girl with my Dark Side eyes.

 Given her heightened sensitivity to the main mystical energy of this Galaxy, it worked even better than on simple intelligent beings.

 "Y-yes..." — Having long recognised my superiority on an instinctive, animal level, which is accessible to her on a much deeper level than to many other intelligent races, Vi immediately lost her former enthusiasm and began to tremble slightly. "In general... I don't like chemical explosive devices, of course... But on the agricultural worlds we know around the Mandalorian sector, I poisoned... God knows how many, but as many crops and ready-made food supplies as you indicated... Now, as I understand it, we are waiting for the Mandalorians to show up..."

 "Yes, to the companies I control... And maybe even directly to Hyperbernia. Fortunately, we're not that far away." — I confirmed her speculation, finally making up my mind.

 She won't just be an executor.

 She would be the leader of my own group of mercenaries. Elite and perfect. They would take care of business where my personal involvement would be too suspicious, noticeable, or simply unnecessary. Simple mercenaries are worthless when it comes to keeping information secret, but those who are loyal to me, yet still formally considered mercenaries and not members of a specific state's special forces...

 Yes, that's what I need.

 And to achieve this, I need to stimulate her thinking by increasing her awareness.

 I can kill her at any time anyway. Anywhere in the Galaxy where the Holonet signal or its minor analogues reach. One team, one mind, and the use of the Force... No, it's really a pity that I can't train her as a Sith acolyte... A person with Force abilities, combined with my mechanical methods of control, which cannot be removed even with the help of the Force itself... They would be very useful.

 Including for the sake of distracting the Jedi... It's worth considering and starting preliminary searches with agents already trained to find the Gifted thanks to the Beynites.

 "Hmm, you have devilish plans, my lord..." — a potential member of my inner circle shook his head, shuddering without any pretence.

 "My plans are magnificent, and they belong to some devil or other." — I corrected with slight annoyance at the mention of demons I hated, while at the same time not forgetting to type a series of new laws that would have to be published on Hyperbernia and prepare the ground for the transformations I had planned.

 What reforms?

 Oh, it's not just renaming the planet's capital to Doomsday City, but also important economic issues.

 In Latveria, I could have ignored this, because the scale was too small, and no one would have cared what was happening in a tiny state in the Balkans, which everyone traditionally ignored... Here, I had an entire planet. Different logistics. Different scales of conditions for the production of technological solutions for resource shortages.

 Everything had to be organised. The resources received from the capital and the wealthiest aristocrats had to be distributed. I had to start building the capital institutions I needed...

 And this took up precious time that I could have spent on improving my own Force abilities. The Force, which I still consider a more effective means of finding my mother. But I couldn't neglect the rest either. I couldn't lose the strategic initiative I had gained by deceiving the Jedi.

 Otherwise, even with my mother by my side, I will not be able to conquer the Galaxy and use its resources to defeat all my enemies, not only here, but also on Earth.

 Besides, my mother... As sad as it is to admit... She may not approve of some of my actions. And I don't want to hide them from her.

 It's better if she reunites with me when everything is over.

 Yes, that would be better.

 "Vi. You have a new assignment." — At the same time, I didn't forget that I had a loyal executor and commander for the Dumbroids, who had no reason to sit around doing nothing.

 The girl is great at destroying things. But not at creating them.

 And so it would be natural to think that it would be logical not to keep her near what is being created, but near what must be destroyed.

 "Yes, boss..." — replied the aforementioned person, staring intently at my mask with a young but not at all good-natured look.

 "I hope you don't get squeamish when you're about to blow up a whole city of criminals..." — I said, projecting a hologram of a large space station onto one of the voice projectors around me and transferring all the necessary data to my subordinate. "They supply the stolen ships to the Mandalorians, who upgrade them and add them to their fleet... And that way, they don't get the ships from my companies, which add beacons to them." "Yes, the legacy of the mad Sith included small shipbuilding companies.

 Yes, each of them was richer than Hyperbernia.

 But it's not for money that I'm seizing power here and messing with my own people. Not for them.

 "The bigger the explosion, the better, boss!" — Apparently, my previous suggestion has already worn off, since this brat is so cheerful as he sweeps out of the room.

 So, only a few minutes... I lost my intimidation skills while learning the wisdom of the Force. Lost them. Never mind, I'll soon have a chance to restore them by trying them out in practice.

 I opened the file with the intelligence data from the spy droids that I had reflexively flooded every large populated area with.

 Rebellion, then. Immediately after the rebellion...

 No, no, you fools and idiots.

 The proverb "The king is dead, long live the king" doesn't work twice. Not during my reign.

 They've decided to stage a little aristocratic uprising here.

 Pitiful nobodies, believing in some traditions and family ties... No. The only measure in all places and at all times has been strength, mental or physical — it doesn't matter.

 I warned them. I gave them a chance to keep their positions... But they thought they were smarter than me!

 The worst mistake an intelligent person can make is to think they can outsmart my brilliant mind. Well... They will pay for it, dearly. Since their little rebellion dared to distract me from dealing with that idiot who lured me to those water monsters... They will learn the power of magnetism the hard way.

 With a crack of my steel-covered neck, I began to issue orders to the newly formed space forces...

***

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