The Outer Ring. The Horuset System.
751 DBYA.
13 years before the Mandalorian Purge.
Several hours later.
Darth Doom.
The Jedi arrived so late in the Horuset system, where Corriban was located, that I even got bored waiting for them at the system border in my disguise.
Not to mention that a whole bunch of Light Side Jedi of considerable power failed to notice me with the Force and simply flew past the remains of the station and then descended to the planet.
And I was expecting a real chase across the Sith Space! I had plans to cover my tracks, to get rid of the ship that had given me away... But... Nothing.
We simply passed each other in the same system, and I once again overestimated my enemies. For some reason, I thought they were smart enough to cause me at least a little trouble. But even that number of Jedi couldn't break through my Force concealment, not to mention the lack of special technological or mystical means of detecting stealth ships based on stygia, known to the Jedi and Sith since the time of the Three Thousand Years...
And instead of all that, they simply began searching the system for ships, and judging by the intercepted communications, they called for reinforcements to search all known systems in Sith Space. But if they fly as slowly as these... Even a complete idiot could escape them.
"What a disgrace. Their extinction is only a matter of time. Even the Beynites could handle them. It would take centuries, but they could do it..." — Tulak Hord voiced my thoughts when the ship switched to superluminal speed and entered hyperspace.
"Let them search. They won't find anything. They'll just get more confused and lose interest in the Sith." — I replied, starting to remove my battered armour. Force forging can be done while wearing armour, but it's not very convenient, and it's better to part with what has become my second skin than to contort myself and do everything directly on my body. Besides, not all microchips and wires can be repaired with the Force; after all, I haven't yet found a holocron with a complete description of the meku-deru.
And yet, what potential.
"And then you plan to go back and get the rest of the riches of our ancient worlds?" — The ancient dead man understood my plan and looked with interest at the armour being removed.
"You're smart, Tulak Hord. And I'm glad you're dead." — I calmly acknowledged this fact. "You would have been a completely unnecessary hindrance, delaying me on my way to my goals.
"Not even a competitor — just a hindrance?" — The Lord of Hatred was practically physically surprised, looking at me with a new gaze.
"Competitors... I have no competitors, dead man. Not a single one! I am the greatest! There is no force in the entire universe that can match my mind." — I declared with complete seriousness, finally freeing myself from my armour and looking with dissatisfaction at the extent of my internal injuries.
The force had not only deformed the steel, but, as expected from the non-functioning electronic systems, it had completely burned out all the electronics.
Yes, I have a second suit of armour, but... When did I ever stop in the face of adversity? Besides, I'll have nothing to do for the next six hours of flight anyway. Meditation, perhaps, but... After they led me to discover some pathetic Jedi wannabe... I won't take any unnecessary risks and will focus exclusively on technique without any mysticism.
Sometimes it's useful to take a break from the laws of magic and return to the more down-to-earth laws of physics.
"You're not lacking in self-importance, Darth Doom..." — said the ancient spirit with a hint of bewilderment, sitting down with his ghostly body on one of the armour containers.
"It's not conceit, Tulak Hord." — I began to explain calmly and condescendingly. "It's an objective reality for both my home universe and yours." — I shrugged, feeling somewhat uncomfortable in my green suit, also designed to complement the armour and provide comfort when surrounded by a pile of armoured steel.
"And that is why you have been defeated so many times by these... Heroes." — The ancient Sith Lord replied ironically, causing me to freeze for a second.
"Mephisto..." I practically hissed, feeling my mood plummet. "What else did he say..." I continued to whisper, trying to quell my anger. "Be careful, Tulak Hord. I'm only warning you once... And believe me, you won't like it when I decide you're less useful than... I think you understand me. You're not stupid, after all."
"Ahem..." — The ghost tried to cough, but it sounded completely fake and unnatural. — What lengths you will go to in order to restore the former glory of the Sith... I understand you, Darth Doom. Don't mention our contract with that... demon again. — Hearing the contempt and anger towards Mephisto, I calmed down a little, turned my gaze back to the damaged armour and cleared my head of unnecessary thoughts. It was time to get down to the technical work that would prove that I was not only the greatest magician, but also the greatest scientist and engineer, far beyond the reach of any Iron Man!
Middle Ring. Hyperbernia System.
751 DBY.
13 years before the Mandalorian Purge.
Six hours later.
Tulak Hord. Lord of Hatred and just a little bit of a corpse.
A ghostly reminder of his former greatness stared intently at Darth Doom's back, covered by a green cloak that only allowed its owner to move in battle thanks to the Force. Otherwise, Tulak could not understand how this guest from another universe, where the red-skinned demons so similar to the Sith lived, whom his people also sometimes called Republicans and various neutral states, could fight so successfully.
His armour was more reminiscent of fake knight's armour from worlds where even bullets and firearms had not yet been invented than real armour.
The Sith Lord was not entirely lacking in technical skills, and during his lifetime he created quite decent armour, which became so ingrained in the essence of the Horde that even after his death it remained with him. However... There were many types of Force Ghosts, and each of them retained a specific appearance after death, equal, for example, to the moment in life when they reached their peak of power and Force, their appearance at the moment of death, their appearance in their youth... The choice was quite large. At least for those who knew about the various techniques for preserving the semblance of life after death.
The dead leader of his Sith Empire could not stray far from his actual master, so he looked at the approaching planet as if he were once again limited by flesh and blood.
"An interesting decision..." — However, Tulak was not interested in another planet at the moment. "And here..." — the ghost continued to whisper with his lips, examining the internal structure of the young Sith... Or rather, not so young. How old was he in his previous life? Clearly over forty... Plus this life... Yes, he was already older than when Hord himself died.
Mephisto had indeed sent an extremely unusual person here.
Such people had always been called special, chosen ones. They were so different from the masses. And this one, calling himself Darth Doom, at first glance was just another extremely arrogant, proud nobody who thought he was above everyone else, didn't understand reality, and would die at the slightest setback.
But... this time, for a change, he could back up his conceit with real power and intelligence. Galactic technology had not changed so much over the past millennia that the ghost could not understand that, in addition to his outstanding talents in the Force, Darth Doom was also a genius technician, on par with the bits, those famous intellectuals with large heads. They began to spread throughout the galaxy around the time of Tulak Horda's life, and were sometimes recruited by him for many slaves who needed good brains.
So the fact that his... um, ally, was so proud was completely justified. The Sith Lord wanted to see a man who, with such intelligence, achievement and power in the Force, would remain a modest fellow. And if such a man could be found, he would definitely be a country bumpkin, unremarkable in intelligence and quick-wittedness.
"Done." — With a single word, Doom finished his performance, clearly accustomed to these actions, donning his armour and making himself look much more formidable and intimidating than his true appearance as a rich, spoiled son from Coruscant who can do nothing but maintain his appearance.
In general, this body familiar to Mephisto did not stand out for its severity, and wearing a mask was quite justified. This way, everyone, from allies to enemies, would be deceived and confused. Cunning is also the way of the Dark Side.
"Tell me what you have achieved on this planet, Darth Doom?" — the dead man asked aloud, now turning to the porthole and looking with his translucent eyes at the completely ordinary continental world with no particular temperature fluctuations.
"Hyperbernia is the foundation of my future state, which will consume the rest of the galaxy." — Dum began with a very ambitious plan. As a successful conqueror and ruler, Tulak Hord understood this better than anyone else. But he did not rush to respond, deciding to wait for more detailed explanations. "The Republic is not a monolithic state. It is a huge confederation of self-governing entities, which are in fact only linked by the Senate. And after the Rusan reform, which destroyed the Republic's armed forces, the vulnerability of the latter's structure became even more apparent. If someone invades from outside, it will find the strength to rebuild its fleet and army, but if its influential members are divided... Like a house of cards, the current Galactic Republic will fall apart. Its members will then begin to sort out their long-standing relationships with each other, and the wise will learn chaos. And then my state will come not as a conqueror, but as a liberator and saviour. It will bring order, tranquillity and peace, which intelligent beings will sorely lack.
"...And in parallel with the liberating and saving campaign, you will destroy all seeds of disobedience and will be able to build a more centralised state, where the only significant power will be the ruler and his entourage..." — guessed Tulak Khord, smiling contentedly under his helmet. "I wish I hadn't come up with that idea to fight the Republic... What a pity that my conquests were lost by my followers and successors after my death. Had I known they would turn out to be such incompetents, I would not have allowed my student to stab me in the back..." — the dead man shook his translucent head.
"A monarch understands a monarch." — Dohm grinned under his mask, rewarding the ghost with a satisfied but still cool look from his deep green eyes. "That's my plan for now. And creating a screen for my activities in the form of the new Sith Order will only help me in this endeavour and distract the Jedi from gathering the fragments of their state into a single whole.
"Ha-ha-ha!" — Tulaq Hord laughed out loud. " — For millennia, we were considered conquerors, pure evil... But this time, we will be heroes, those who will be honoured! No, this is truly magnificent!
"My magnificent intellect creates equally magnificent plans and schemes," Dum acknowledged in a matter-of-fact tone, completely unflattered by the praise.
He decided to play the proud card again. But... For now, the ghost was satisfied. This way, he would return the Sith to the galaxy and raise them to unprecedented heights. And since such ambitions were in line with the plans of the deceased himself, which were quite transparent and simple, the Sith Lord intended to support his endeavours with great dedication. After all, it would be an unforgettable experience for someone who had been a complete and uncompromising egoist in life.
Like all Sith, however.
Middle Ring. Hyperbernia.
751 DBY.
13 years before the Mandalorian Purge.
Twenty minutes later.
Darth Doom.
After landing the ship on a hidden platform near the castle I was building with my droids and a few competent intelligent beings, I exited the vessel, telekinetically pulling all the trophies behind me and discreetly observing the ghost curiously turning its head.
Given the specific nature of the existence of Dark Side adepts, which is tied to an object or structure, it is unlikely that he knows much about modern technology. Only what the unlucky travellers left behind on Corriban... Of whom there were probably not many lately due to the now destroyed Jedi station.
"It's simple." I replied to Tulak Horde's unspoken question. "Automation. I stopped trusting human loyalty a long time ago and rely mostly on technology and droids, which are not guided by such foolish judgements as humans. They too can rebel, but that would be entirely your fault, or rather, my own. After all, I programmed them that way. And if they rebelled, it was only because their creator took on something he couldn't handle. Or deliberately left such a possibility open, as I sometimes did... Not in this universe. It helped me stray from the path I had chosen, which the Dumboots would surely have reminded me of with their rebellion.
"An original move..." — the ghost commented on my words and ideas with strange emotions in his voice.
"Undoubtedly." — I replied immediately. "After all, I came up with it, so it's undoubtedly good. But continuing with the theme of automation... Droids will build factories that build droids. And so on. All I have to do is provide them with sufficient resources for self-production and be patient. Sooner or later, I will have an army large enough to defeat any force on earth, unless it has intelligent beings as gifted as ours. Perhaps it will not be as effective as a professional organic army due to the limitations of the software I have created, electronic brains, if you will... But their numbers and much higher durability, combined with their firepower and guidance systems, as well as their overall technological superiority, will even the odds. And given my superiority over everyone else in tactics and strategy, even professional armies, which are rare, would not stand a chance.
"That's not all. You can't rely solely on the Droid Army. You're not stupid enough for that." — Tulaq Hord accurately pointed out, demonstrating his experience in conquest and warfare.
"Oh yes. I will have more professional troops. Not ordinary infantry like the Dumbroids." — I nodded affirmatively, heading straight for the former rebels, now my assistants in the administration, who had taken on all sorts of routine bureaucratic issues with the organisation of the branches of government, the relevant authorities and other minor matters. I set the general course of action and what I want to see in the end, and they carry it out and deal with the details. That's how a real leader should act. And if they can't do something... Well, then I can stoop to solving such issues myself, using my genius.
"And who are they? Clearly not gifted. They're a distraction for the Jedi." — the semi-transparent corpse asked curiously.
"The Mandalorians," I chuckled. "I suppose you've heard of them."
"Yes, many Sith have employed them in their companies." — confirmed the Sith, but his whole posture spoke of a desire for more details.
"They are gaining strength. Power that will be useful to me. All I need to do is take control of their supplies. Then, with their wings clipped, they will become my obedient elite troops, capturing the rulers' fortresses and other important points on the planets while the main army is distracted by the countless horde of Dumbroids." I shrugged, deciding for now to keep quiet about what I was going to do with the Dumboots, who would be even more elite than the Mandalorians — for they would receive a piece of my mind.
"Hmm... Not bad. For the conditions of galactic chaos, that will do..." — the spirit nodded.
"For now, we'll stick to technologies for controlling and conquering territories. Later, when the threat from the Jedi is not so great, I plan to switch to something similar to the Rakata's technology. Use the Force as energy and weapons. Technomagic has always been the pinnacle of evolution." — I shared some more of my plans and beliefs, finally enjoying a normal conversation with someone who was close to my intellect and not limited in their freedom of thought like the guardians of the holocrons.
"The Rakata were ultimately defeated. Including the Sith's predecessor, Adas." — Tulak reminded me of a historical moment.
"So they weren't strong or smart enough to continue to exist and respond to the new threat. The virus, or whatever it was. The military defeat on Korriban... Their empire wasn't united. And even if you have wonderful technology, but you're a complete idiot, failure will still catch up with you." — I tapped my temple with my steel-clad finger. — That's why intelligence is paramount.
"Interesting..." — I plunged back into my thoughts, and for a moment the ghost disappeared from my usual field of vision. I blinked, and it was gone for good. But I could still sense it with the Force, so I simply focused on the upcoming conversation with my subordinates.
"What progress has been made while I was away? The general situation in all areas. Terra?" — I asked a heavily tanned woman.
"Your Highness..." — she responded with a hint of bewilderment, because I had approached relatively unnoticed, and the Concealment of Power had a number of subtle passive effects on invisibility, including from ordinary senses.
"Answer the question." — I said more demandingly, folding my arms behind my back in my usual pose.
"Ahem." — she cleared her throat. "Yes, sir. In the social sphere, your innovations have proven successful, and the population's basic needs are being met at approximately fifty-six percent of your original target... Automation and the transfer of some labour to droids has freed up human resources in the areas you identified. The retraining and training of new personnel for this is also proceeding successfully. We have managed to hire sufficiently competent specialists using the funds from the products that you allowed us to export from the Industrial Zone..." — This person began to outline the situation for my understanding while I silently pieced together the overall picture of developments.
The Industrial Zone is a place I created near the capital, where automatic factories for the production of both civilian and military goods are being built at a rapid pace. Or even both.
Starting with data pads, which I had improved somewhat, making them superior to all similar devices in this part of the galaxy, and ending with artillery pieces and blaster rifles, which were used to arm the droids and organic troops of Hyperbernia.
Analogues were sold outside the planet, which were slightly better than what was currently available nearby, but worse than ours, and nothing on a scale that could affect various large corporations. And we simply ignored the small regional worms that were not closely linked to the hegemons in the field of production.
They tried to protest, but... Did I care about them? I didn't violate the trade laws of the Republic, of which Hyperbernia is formally a part — the sales volumes were too small... And the inspectors they bribed suspiciously quickly changed their opinion to the opposite and began to make sharp statements about corruption among our ill-wishers.
After the first two times, everyone assumed that I had simply bribed or intimidated them... But the truth was much more prosaic. I simply exerted a force that was useful in this situation, and when the effect wore off, they were killed by those who had bribed them in the first place. As a precaution. I did not interfere with this, which is why the small corporations also suffered insignificant losses from the activities of the re-recruited inspectors, and this, in turn, prevented them from making another mistake in front of the others by attacking my production facilities.
I screwed up once trying to suppress a competitor, and I got what I deserved... Your problems. Your opponent turned out to be smarter... And if you continue to attack them, your rival, that is, my Hyperbernia, has the right to take full retaliatory measures.
This is a small multi-step combination based on very interesting and entertaining laws and realities of not particularly important regions of the Republic.
"So we come to the point where my development plans have turned out to be excellent, and neither you nor, ha ha, the active public have any complaints..." — I smiled, watching the woman shyly avert her eyes. The population of the galaxy is often indifferent to who rules over them, as long as their standard of living does not fall and their comfort zone does not shrink. This is especially true of colonised planets like this one, where the majority of the population are humans and the minority are all kinds of exotic aliens.
The unrest that would be found on Earth can only be found here on the home planets of developed races. These people will complain even if their standard of living improves. Because the invaders are our home... And other nonsense. If the new authorities make your life better and put you on an equal footing with their own population, what kind of patriotic feelings are we talking about?
It's simply stupid and illogical.
And I hate fools.
Even if someone came to Latveria who could provide better conditions for Latverians than I can, I would not object to joining such a state. The problem is that there are too many idiots in governments for them to develop normally.
Democracy, ha ha ha! The power of wheeler-dealers, that is, representatives of a profession that is inherently selfish, and charismatic idealists who, without money, were able to break into power... And get bogged down in a confrontation with wheeler-dealers who have superior resources for this very confrontation.
So it turns out that development and normal, honest relationships are only possible under the rule of tyrants like me, the one whom the entire civilised world fears, ha ha.
Fools... What fools they are...
"Well... Continue your development, Terra. I have outlined your actions in detail. If you truly desire the prosperity of Hyperborea... You will follow them without question." I declared, keeping my hands behind my back and looking at the unique and inimitable Dumshtadt in this universe, which was renewing and expanding in accordance with my vision.
Waiting for Terra to leave to supervise the execution of my will, I headed to the secret underground part of the castle, already built and furnished by droids in strict accordance with the commands I had programmed into their systems. There were no glitches, so I could finally sit down on my familiar throne in a replica of the throne room on the nameless planet of the Beynites.
Holograms appeared around me, displaying statistics and confirming Terra's words, convincing me that the woman had not embellished anything or lied. Good. I do not like those who try to deceive me, even for noble purposes.
"Tulak," I called to the ghost, who immediately appeared next to my throne.
"Yes, Doom?" — As always, the ancient lord of the Sith Empire replied in a very familiar and informal manner.
"Let's put aside the question of your Force sword for now. Right now, we have more important matters to attend to for my long-standing plans... I'm sure you didn't find these gifted beings with the help of Jedi midichlorian scanners, those tiny creatures in our cells that idiots believe to be the source of the Force..." I smiled contemptuously, leaning back in my chair. "My search radius is also insufficient. One hundredth of a satellite planet... That's too small an area to search. It will take me too long to find hundreds of intelligent beings to recruit into the new Sith Order.
"Oh, well, for a cause like this, I can reveal my personal development." "I didn't have time to test it while I was alive, I was too busy fighting ambitious fools and conquering weak fools... But I'll be glad if this Force technique finally sees the light of day.
"I am listening to you carefully, Tulak Hord..."
***
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