Chapter 1 | Humble Beginnings

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The Personal Chronicles of his Excellency Lord Palpatine, Emperor of the Galaxy.

Begun, ABY 3.

Dearest citizen,

Before me rests the vastness of Imperial Center (Coruscant), the seat of Imperial might and naturally, the capital planet of the Galactic Empire and my home for the past several decades. My penthouse suite rests atop one of the city planet's tallest skyscrapers at the Imperial Palace. The night sky before me blinks and twinkles with the running lights and engine flares of countless transports and starships that neatly fly in organized travel lanes between countless skyscrapers.

I am somewhat overwhelmed and perplexed as I write my first journal entry. I am far too busy a man to be concerned with documenting my memoirs, but alas, my perspective on my state of affairs has changed as of late. Over the past few days, I've come to realize that my thoughts on a particular matter are as many as the countless skyscrapers before me. Earlier, I stared at the blinking lights of a tow droid guiding a large transport to its docking platform. Oh, how I've always loved a desk with a view. Actually, I have enjoyed a desk with a view throughout my entire political career. I digress...

Yes, I am a politician, and an extremely clever one at that. I have no qualms admitting this truth to you. Some would say that I am scheming, powerful, and evil to the core. They would be right, but evil? No, this accusation is not true. I pray that none of this dissuades you from reading my musings and memoirs for there is so much that I wish to tell much you need to know. But I fear I am getting ahead of myself. There are so many questions to be answered first, before I tell you my story. Who am I? Why am I writing this? What do I want this to say about my legacy of promoting peace in my day? Let me begin again.

Have patience, my friend. I will first answer these questions by stating why I have undertaken the task of writing my memoirs for you to read, enjoy, and ponder over.

This morning, heavy rain fell on Imperial Center. The overcast weather blotted out the warm sun and made the start of my day unpleasant. I am unsure as to whether or not my displeasure with the weather affected my morning meditations, for they were unusually...uncomfortable. You see, when I meditate, the Force's dark energies penetrate my mind and body. They flow through me with grace and power. This is how I foresee my destiny and the destiny of the galaxy. My meditations have been (since the death of my master, Darth Plagueis) the guiding hand behind my masterminded plans for securing the galaxy—at first from the traitorous Jedi, and now from the Rebel Alliance. Yet, this morning, my meditations left me feeling perplexed.

Breakfast however, restored my good humor. I enjoyed a relaxed meal with my Inner Circle. You, dear citizen, will know them as the Imperial Ruling Council. They are a collective membership of the highest level of Imperial bureaucrats for the Empire. They include my Grand Vizier Mas Amedda (who was formerly the Vice Chancellor of the Republic), Sate Pestage, Janus Greejatus, Ars Dangor, Kren Blista-Vanee, and Verge. Knowing their names is not important.

Although I am the galaxy's sovereign dictator, I do not necessarily manage the day-to-day operations of the galaxy because, well, I get it. The Galactic Empire is huge, a huge responsibility, and hugely necessary. Thus, I rely on the ministers (or councilors, if you will) of the Inner Circle to manage the day-to-day operational decisions of the galaxy. I maintain complete control over them and make sure that their work is convoluted with a dog-eat-dog hierarchy. This forces them to aggressively strive at winning my favor and not at undermining my rule.

The rumors about them are of course true. These elite councilors have all been chosen by me. I have empowered them to the greatest extent possible within their respective disciplines. Sycophants though they may be, they provide me endless delight as they regale me with tales of tomfoolery in their respective Offices. (Do not confuse this with a tolerance for failure. Everyone knows that I have no tolerance for failure. The only person in the galaxy with a smaller threshold for failure is my Apprentice, Darth Vader.) I am also greatly amused by the continual backstabbing and posturing they do to get my attention.

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