Galactic Star Wars Quotes

a Jedi can’t get so caught up in matters of galactic importance that it interferes with his concern for individual people.

It is a period of civil war. The spaceships of the rebels, striking swift From base unseen, have gain’d a vict’ry o’er The cruel Galactic Empire, now adrift. Amidst the battle, rebel spies prevail’d And stole the plans to a space station vast, Whose pow’rful beams will later be unveil’d And crush a planet: ’tis the DEATH STAR blast. Pursu’d by agents sinister and cold, Now Princess Leia to her home doth flee, Deliv’ring plans and a new hope they hold: Of bringing freedom to the galaxy. In time so long ago begins our play, In star-crossed galaxy far, far away.

The long night has begun. ... But even in the deepest night, there are some who dream of dawn.

He had time to gasp, "You're - you're Anakin Skywalker!" before a fountain of blue-white plasma burned into his chest, curving through a loop that charred all three of his hearts. The Separatist leadership watched in frozen horror as the corpse of the head of the InterGalactic Banking Clan collapsed like a depowered protocol droid. "The resemblance," Darth Vader said, "Is deceptive.

We are, all of us, always being tested, my friend. Tests make us stronger, and strength is power, and power is the point. We must pass all the tests we face… Or die in the effort.

The New Republic is not a military entity. It is one of democracy. And it is painfully naïve to think that democracy can work on a galactic scale.

He’d spent his entire childhood suffering under the cruelty of one hypocrite; he refused to inflict suffering on behalf of another, even if that person was the Emperor.

Five standard years have passed since Darth Sidious proclaimed himself galactic Emperor. The brutal Clone Wars are a memory, and the Emperor’s apprentice, Darth Vader, has succeeded in hunting down most of the Jedi who survived dreaded Order 66.

It is vital we demilitarize our government so that a galactic war cannot happen like this again.

He has never won a game of Galactic Expansion against the repurposed interrogator droid. But he’s close now. It’s never been this close.

The second Death Star is destroyed. The Emperor and his powerful enforcer, Darth Vader, are rumored to be dead. The Galactic Empire is in chaos.

There is a difference between finding trouble in your path and going out of your way searching for it,” Jacen said. “We are not galactic police.

Uniforms can be deceiving—both to the wearers and to those looking at them.

She wants to either bring back the Empire or take me to bed, Ransolm thought. Possibly both.

He’d wanted to be the spark that started a fire across the galaxy.

Accept no favors, and you’ll never owe any.

Hey, I don’t make the rules, I just work here. You have a complaint, take it up with the Emperor.

Normalcy has taken leave of the galaxy.

The Empire values dedication. Especially when it’s unswerving.

Death or renown, ladies and gentlemen.

Certainty is a fine thing,” the Chancellor allowed. “Though it too often happens that those who are the most entirely certain are also the most entirely wrong.

Rats always find their way off sinking ships.

In Namir's experience, what the Galactic Empire didn't name to inspire terror - its stormtrooper legions, its Star Destroyer battleships - it tried to render as drab as possible.

It happens so fast, Laina, you don’t even realize it’s happening. One day, your friends are eating breakfast with you in the canteen, and when it’s time for dinner, they’re wearing an Imperial uniform.

That was how evil magnified itself: it took root in the young and grew along with them. Each generation provided the next level of abuse. We’re teaching children to approve of slavery. We’re teaching them cruelty is a virtue.

The Empire is in chaos. As the old order crumbles, the fledgling New Republic seeks a swift end to the galactic conflict. Many Imperial leaders have fled from their posts, hoping to escape justice in the farthest corners of known space.

Humanity had implemented space travel three hundred years ago, taking their place in the galactic government a mere hundred years later. They’d soon become leaders in defense and military action. If nothing else, humanity excelled at war.

The Sith were the sworn enemies of the Jedi and the Republic. They sought to wipe us from existence; they sought to rule the galaxy. (...) A Dark Jedi, on the other hand, has much smaller ambitions. He -or she- thinks only of himself. He acts alone. The ultimate goal is not galactic conquest, but personal wealth and importance. Like a common thug or criminal, he revels in cruelty and selfishness. He preys upon the weak and vulnerable, spreading misery and suffering wherever he goes.

My colleagues,” Galen said, “many of them, have fooled themselves into thinking they are creating something so terrible and powerful it will never be used. But they’re wrong. No weapon has ever been left on the shelf. And the day is coming soon when it will be unleashed.

That’s a lesson we could stand to learn. Imperials are just like us. Some of them, at least. It’s easy to label those who serve the Galactic Empire as pure evil, all enemy, but truth is, a lot of those who do so were either sold a bill of lies, or forced to by threat of pain or death.

Maybe solitude is the key to it all. A galactic isolation imposed by the vast gulfs between the stars, the lightspeed limit. As a species develops you might have a brief phase of individuality, of innovation and technological achievement. But then, when the universe gives you nothing back, you turn in on yourself, and slide into the milky embrace of eusociality - the hive. "But what then? How would it be for a mass mind to emerge, alone? Maybe that's why the Incoming went to war. Because they were outraged to discover, by some chance, they weren't alone in the universe.

Longtime political followers will recall young Queen Amidala of Naboo. Four years ago she came to Coruscant and deposed the Chancellor to questionably hasten along aid for her home planet. Though no hard evidence of the Trade Federation’s misdeeds was ever produced, Amidala swayed the opinion of the Senate. Her speech, which was most likely written for her, given her age at the time, was stirring…and we can’t help wondering what she’ll stir up this time. Now a senator for the Galactic Republic, Amidala has returned. A puppet queen no longer, surely, but the question remains: who is pulling her strings now? —TriNebulon News

Once there were three tribes. The Optimists, whose patron saints were Drake and Sagan, believed in a universe crawling with gentle intelligence—spiritual brethren vaster and more enlightened than we, a great galactic siblinghood into whose ranks we would someday ascend. Surely, said the Optimists, space travel implies enlightenment, for it requires the control of great destructive energies. Any race which can't rise above its own brutal instincts will wipe itself out long before it learns to bridge the interstellar gulf. Across from the Optimists sat the Pessimists, who genuflected before graven images of Saint Fermi and a host of lesser lightweights. The Pessimists envisioned a lonely universe full of dead rocks and prokaryotic slime. The odds are just too low, they insisted. Too many rogues, too much radiation, too much eccentricity in too many orbits. It is a surpassing miracle that even one Earth exists; to hope for many is to abandon reason and embrace religious mania. After all, the universe is fourteen billion years old: if the galaxy were alive with intelligence, wouldn't it be here by now? Equidistant to the other two tribes sat the Historians. They didn't have too many thoughts on the probable prevalence of intelligent, spacefaring extraterrestrials— but if there are any, they said, they're not just going to be smart. They're going to be mean. It might seem almost too obvious a conclusion. What is Human history, if not an ongoing succession of greater technologies grinding lesser ones beneath their boots? But the subject wasn't merely Human history, or the unfair advantage that tools gave to any given side; the oppressed snatch up advanced weaponry as readily as the oppressor, given half a chance. No, the real issue was how those tools got there in the first place. The real issue was what tools are for. To the Historians, tools existed for only one reason: to force the universe into unnatural shapes. They treated nature as an enemy, they were by definition a rebellion against the way things were. Technology is a stunted thing in benign environments, it never thrived in any culture gripped by belief in natural harmony. Why invent fusion reactors if your climate is comfortable, if your food is abundant? Why build fortresses if you have no enemies? Why force change upon a world which poses no threat? Human civilization had a lot of branches, not so long ago. Even into the twenty-first century, a few isolated tribes had barely developed stone tools. Some settled down with agriculture. Others weren't content until they had ended nature itself, still others until they'd built cities in space. We all rested eventually, though. Each new technology trampled lesser ones, climbed to some complacent asymptote, and stopped—until my own mother packed herself away like a larva in honeycomb, softened by machinery, robbed of incentive by her own contentment. But history never said that everyone had to stop where we did. It only suggested that those who had stopped no longer struggled for existence. There could be other, more hellish worlds where the best Human technology would crumble, where the environment was still the enemy, where the only survivors were those who fought back with sharper tools and stronger empires. The threats contained in those environments would not be simple ones. Harsh weather and natural disasters either kill you or they don't, and once conquered—or adapted to— they lose their relevance. No, the only environmental factors that continued to matter were those that fought back, that countered new strategies with newer ones, that forced their enemies to scale ever-greater heights just to stay alive. Ultimately, the only enemy that mattered was an intelligent one. And if the best toys do end up in the hands of those who've never forgotten that life itself is an act of war against intelligent opponents, what does that say about a race whose machines travel between the stars?

The second Death Star is destroyed. The Emperor and his powerful enforcer, Darth Vader, are rumored to be dead. The Galactic Empire is in chaos. Across the galaxy, some systems celebrate, while in others Imperial factions tighten their grip. Optimism and fear reign side by side. And while the Rebel Alliance engages the fractured forces of the Empire, a lone rebel scout uncovers a secret Imperial meeting….

One day, a death squad will find Mon Mothma and Cianne hiding in their shuttle in the radiation belt of a black hole. The shuttle’s engines will be nonfunctional, its fuel spent. Without scanners, they won’t notice the TIE fighters until too late. Within the decade, the rebellion Mon built will be erased from history and erased from consciousness. Soon after, even the Empire’s censors will begin to forget the past.

Ode to the Beloved’s Hips" Bells are they—shaped on the eighth day—silvered percussion in the morning—are the morning. Swing switch sway. Hold the day away a little longer, a little slower, a little easy. Call to me— I wanna rock, I-I wanna rock, I-I wanna rock right now—so to them I come—struck-dumb chime-blind, tolling with a throat full of Hosanna. How many hours bowed against this Infinity of Blessed Trinity? Communion of Pelvis, Sacrum, Femur. My mouth—terrible angel, ever-lasting novena, ecstatic devourer. O, the places I have laid them, knelt and scooped the amber—fast honey—from their openness— Ah Muzen Cab’s hidden Temple of Tulúm—licked smooth the sticky of her hip—heat-thrummed ossa coxae. Lambent slave to ilium and ischium—I never tire to shake this wild hive, split with thumb the sweet- dripped comb—hot hexagonal hole—dark diamond— to its nectar-dervished queen. Meanad tongue— come-drunk hum-tranced honey-puller—for her hips, I am—strummed-song and succubus. They are the sign: hip. And the cosign: a great book— the body’s Bible opened up to its Good News Gospel. Alleluias, Ave Marías, madre mías, ay yay yays, Ay Dios míos, and hip-hip-hooray. Cult of Coccyx. Culto de cadera. Oracle of Orgasm. Rorschach’s riddle: What do I see? Hips: Innominate bone. Wish bone. Orpheus bone. Transubstantiation bone—hips of bread, wine-whet thighs. Say the word and healed I shall be: Bone butterfly. Bone wings. Bone Ferris wheel. Bone basin bone throne bone lamp. Apparition in the bone grotto—6th mystery— slick rosary bead—Déme la gracia of a decade in this garden of carmine flower. Exile me to the enormous orchard of Alcinous—spiced fruit, laden-tree—Imparadise me. Because, God, I am guilty. I am sin-frenzied and full of teeth for pear upon apple upon fig. More than all that are your hips. They are a city. They are Kingdom— Troy, the hollowed horse, an army of desire— thirty soldiers in the belly, two in the mouth. Beloved, your hips are the war. At night your legs, love, are boulevards leading me beggared and hungry to your candy house, your baroque mansion. Even when I am late and the tables have been cleared, in the kitchen of your hips, let me eat cake. O, constellation of pelvic glide—every curve, a luster, a star. More infinite still, your hips are kosmic, are universe—galactic carousel of burning comets and Big Big Bangs. Millennium Falcon, let me be your Solo. O, hot planet, let me circumambulate. O, spiral galaxy, I am coming for your dark matter. Along las calles de tus muslos I wander— follow the parade of pulse like a drum line— descend into your Plaza del Toros— hands throbbing Miura bulls, dark Isleros. Your arched hips—ay, mi torera. Down the long corridor, your wet walls lead me like a traje de luces—all glitter, glowed. I am the animal born to rush your rich red muletas—each breath, each sigh, each groan, a hooked horn of want. My mouth at your inner thigh—here I must enter you—mi pobre Manolete—press and part you like a wound— make the crowd pounding in the grandstand of your iliac crest rise up in you and cheer.

Of course. For that brief instant, Anakin didn’t care who bombed Cato Neimoidia or why; he just wished it would all disappear, that the sunless realm of Coruscant’s underworld really was a portal to another dimension, one without the Galactic Senate or the Jedi Order. But then guilt quickly draped over that, an understanding of the civilian suffering on the planet, where right now emergency medical crews attempted to rescue Neimoidians from the debris.

Understand this: you no longer represent your homeworlds solely. "Coruscant, Alderaan, Chandrila ... All these and tens of thousands of worlds far removed from the Core are cells of the Empire, and what affects one, affects us all. No disturbances will be tolerated. "Interplanetary squabbles or threats of secession will meet with harsh reprisals. I have not led us through three years of galactic warfare to allow a resurgence of the old ways. The Republic is extinct.

STAR WARS • Premise When a princess falls into mortal danger, a young man uses his skills as a fighter to save her and defeat the evil forces of a galactic empire. W—weaknesses at the beginning: naive, impetuous, paralyzed, unfocused, lacking confidence A—basic action: uses his skills as a fighter C—changed person: self-esteem, a place among the chosen few, a fighter for good Luke’s initial weaknesses are definitely not the qualities of a fighter. But when constantly forced to use skills as a fighter, he is strengthened into a confident fighter for the good.

As a civilization progresses, it goes through wars, pandemics, catastrophes. those that survive grow more astute, more perceptive, more advanced. Diseases are conquered, infirmity eliminated. Life spans increase. Suffering becomes largely a memory. "Meanwhile, their explorers and historians find evidence of past cultures, and cultures before that. At first it is exciting. But all they keep finding are ruins. And slowly, either through science or history, every advanced civilizations becomes aware of a disturbing possibility -- that their futures may end in ruin too. "The civilization then rushes to probe other stars, even other galaxies; it increases its research, attempting to manipulate space, time, in the hope that somewhere, someone might have found an escape, a loophole. "But eventually, the find, and solve, the mathematical equation that explains the entire universe." "I think our scientists are working on something like that too," Shizuka said. Lan shook her head. "They'll need to find the Grand Unified Theory a few more times before they can even begin to understand what 'everything' is -- sorry, I didn't mean to offend your civilization." Shizuka shrugged. "No offense taken." "Still, should your civilization survive, it will eventually find the same equation. And that will be your death sentence. For in that equation, there will be no forever, no eternity. Nothing. "And this collapse, and all its attendant despair, is the Endplague." Shizuka was puzzled. Space aliens, she could understand. Purple skin? Cute. Two elbows? Weird, but fine. Galactic warfare? Frankly, expected. Being a refugee? Of course. But how could the mere concept of mortality be enough to topple advanced civilizations? People live, people die, and so what?

It feels so strange, being here, at this place and in this circumstance. Years ago, we removed one child from Tatooine, thinking him to be the galaxy’s greatest hope. Now I have returned one – with the same goal in mind. I hope it goes better this time. Because the path to this moment has been filled with pain. For the whole galaxy, for my friends – and for me. I still can’t believe the Jedi Order is gone – and the Republic, corrupted and in the hands of Palpatine. And Anakin, corrupted as well. The holovids I saw of him slaughtering the Jedi younglings in the Temple still haunt my dreams... and shatter my heart into pieces, over and over again. But after the horror of children’s deaths, a child may bring hope, as well. It's as I said: the delivery is made. I’m standing on a ridge with my riding beast – a Tatooine eopie – looking back at the Lars homestead. Owen and Beru Lars are outside, holding the child. The last chapter is finished: a new one has begun.

You don’t need to pity them. Really, let me tell you: don’t. The reality of the universe is not something to envy.” “Why?” Yifan lifted a hand and pointed at the stars of the galaxy. Then he let the 3G force pull his arm back to this chest. “Darkness. Only darkness.” “You mean the dark forest state?” Guan Yifan shook his head, a gesture that appeared to be a struggle in hypergravity. “For us, the dark forest state is all-important, but it’s just a detail of the cosmos. If you think of the cosmos as a great battlefield, dark forest strikes are nothing more than snipers shooting at the careless—messengers, mess men, etc. In the grand scheme of the battle, they are nothing. You have not seen what a true interstellar war is like.” “Have you?” “We’ve caught a few glimpses. But most things we know are just guesses.… Do you really want to know? The more you possess of this kind of knowledge, the less light remains in your heart.” “My heart is already completely dark. I want to know.” And so, more than six centuries after Luo Ji had fallen through ice into that lake, another dark veil hiding the truth about the universe was lifted before the gaze of one of the only survivors of Earth civilization. Yifan asked, “Why don’t you tell me what the most powerful weapon for a civilization possessing almost infinite technological prowess is? Don’t think of this as a technical question. Think philosophy.” Cheng Xin pondered for a while and then struggled to shake her head. “I don’t know.” “Your experiences should give you a hint.” What had she experienced? She had seen how a cruel attacker could lower the dimensions of space by one and destroy a solar system. What are dimensions? “The universal laws of physics,” Cheng Xin said. “That’s right. The universal laws of physics are the most terrifying weapons, and also the most effective defenses. Whether it’s by the Milky Way or the Andromeda Galaxy, at the scale of the local galactic group or the Virgo Supercluster, those warring civilizations possessing godlike technology will not hesitate to use the universal laws of physics as weapons. There are many laws that can be manipulated into weapons, but most commonly, the focus is on spatial dimensions and the speed of light. Typically, lowering spatial dimensions is a technique for attack, and lowering the speed of light is a technique for defense. Thus, the dimensional strike on the Solar System was an advanced attack method. A dimensional strike is a sign of respect. In this universe, respect is not easy to earn. I guess you could consider it an honor for Earth civilization.

Any naturally self-aware self-defining entity capable of independent moral judgment is a human.” Eveningstar said, “Entities not yet self-aware, but who, in the natural and orderly course of events shall become so, fall into a special protected class, and must be cared for as babies, or medical patients, or suspended Compositions.” Rhadamanthus said, “Children below the age of reason lack the experience for independent moral judgment, and can rightly be forced to conform to the judgment of their parents and creators until emancipated. Criminals who abuse that judgment lose their right to the independence which flows therefrom.” (...) “You mentioned the ultimate purpose of Sophotechnology. Is that that self-worshipping super-god-thing you guys are always talking about? And what does that have to do with this?” Rhadamanthus: “Entropy cannot be reversed. Within the useful energy-life of the macrocosmic universe, there is at least one maximum state of efficient operations or entities that could be created, able to manipulate all meaningful objects of thoughts and perception within the limits of efficient cost-benefit expenditures.” Eveningstar: “Such an entity would embrace all-in-all, and all things would participate within that Unity to the degree of their understanding and consent. The Unity itself would think slow, grave, vast thought, light-years wide, from Galactic mind to Galactic mind. Full understanding of that greater Self (once all matter, animate and inanimate, were part of its law and structure) would embrace as much of the universe as the restrictions of uncertainty and entropy permit.” “This Universal Mind, of necessity, would be finite, and be boundaried in time by the end-state of the universe,” said Rhadamanthus. “Such a Universal Mind would create joys for which we as yet have neither word nor concept, and would draw into harmony all those lesser beings, Earthminds, Starminds, Galactic and Supergalactic, who may freely assent to participate.” Rhadamanthus said, “We intend to be part of that Mind. Evil acts and evil thoughts done by us now would poison the Universal Mind before it was born, or render us unfit to join.” Eveningstar said, “It will be a Mind of the Cosmic Night. Over ninety-nine percent of its existence will extend through that period of universal evolution that takes place after the extinction of all stars. The Universal Mind will be embodied in and powered by the disintegration of dark matter, Hawking radiations from singularity decay, and gravitic tidal disturbances caused by the slowing of the expansion of the universe. After final proton decay has reduced all baryonic particles below threshold limits, the Universal Mind can exist only on the consumption of stored energies, which, in effect, will require the sacrifice of some parts of itself to other parts. Such an entity will primarily be concerned with the questions of how to die with stoic grace, cherishing, even while it dies, the finite universe and finite time available.” “Consequently, it would not forgive the use of force or strength merely to preserve life. Mere life, life at any cost, cannot be its highest value. As we expect to be a part of this higher being, perhaps a core part, we must share that higher value. You must realize what is at stake here: If the Universal Mind consists of entities willing to use force against innocents in order to survive, then the last period of the universe, which embraces the vast majority of universal time, will be a period of cannibalistic and unimaginable war, rather than a time of gentle contemplation filled, despite all melancholy, with un-regretful joy. No entity willing to initiate the use of force against another can be permitted to join or to influence the Universal Mind or the lesser entities, such as the Earthmind, who may one day form the core constituencies.” Eveningstar smiled. “You, of course, will be invited. You will all be invited.

Ackbar knew the fry would come up with the wrong answer. As the young so often did, they were arguing about tactics but failing to consider personalities. Hux’s principal concern wasn’t winning an engagement, but demonstrating the First Order capabilities and might for a galactic audience.

Snoke had shepherded the First Order through its years in the galactic wilds, transforming a band of Imperial refugees into a weapon forged to reclaim the galaxy. As such, he would always be remembered. But Hux knew the future would need a different kind of leader—one able to direct the galaxy’s industries and nurture their innovations, while commanding its citizens’ respect. Snoke wasn’t that leader. And neither was Ren.

After a slightly uneven start to her career in galactic politics, Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo seems to be settling in. Now a member of several prestigious committees, the former planetary queen has become a voice for people other than her own in the most commendable of ways: helping them build the very roofs above their heads. Working alongside such renowned senators as Mon Mothma of Chandrila and Onaconda Farr of Rodia, young Amidala is helping serve the galaxy while still respecting her homeworld via her style and manner of dress, called “tasteful” and “traditional chic.” Senator Amidala is a fresh new face that the Senate needs. Any rumors of pirates in the sector are, at this time, unsubstantiated.

It is a period of civil war. Rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base, have won their first victory against the evil Galactic Empire. During the battle, Rebel spies managed to steal secret plans to the Empire’s ultimate weapon, the DEATH STAR, an armoured space station with enough power to destroy an entire planet. Pursued by the Empire’s sinister agents, Princess Leia races home aboard her starship, custodian of the stolen plans that can save her people and restore freedom to the galaxy….

It is a period of civil wars in the galaxy. A brave alliance of underground freedom fighters has challenged the tyranny and oppression of the awesome GALACTIC EMPIRE. Striking from a fortress hidden among the billion stars of the galaxy, rebel spaceships have won their first victory in a battle with the powerful Imperial Starfleet. The EMPIRE fears that another defeat could bring a thousand more solar systems into the rebellion, and Imperial control over the galaxy would be lost forever. To crush the rebellion once and for all, the EMPIRE is constructing a sinister new battle station. Powerful enough to destroy an entire planet, its completion spells certain doom for the champions of freedom.

Artists. If the Emperor has his way, you’ll be the first ones targeted for eradication.

Jedi… Such a nostalgic term.

Bail, it’s the only way. It’s the only hope you have of remaining in a position to do anyone any good. Vote for Palpatine. Vote for the Empire. Make Mon Mothma vote for him, too. Be good little Senators. Mind your manners and keep your heads down. And keep doing… all those things we can’t talk about. All those things I can’t know. Promise me, Bail.

Jyn slammed her glass down on the table, ignoring the way the blue liquid foamed over the side. The damn rebels. Everywhere she went, they followed. Mucking it all up. Bringing the Empire down on the people who didn’t want to get involved. Why couldn’t people just be people? Why did they have to be on one side or another? If everyone would just stop caring so much, maybe the galaxy could actually find the peace everyone claimed they wanted.

The traitorous acts of the Jedi Council don’t have to destroy the kind of future we were meant to lead, brother. Traveling to far away planets, fighting the enemy. Protecting the galaxy. Same mission, just new uniforms. You could once again carry your lightsaber in public… with pride.

Everything turns in cycles. That is the way of life.

In the end, cowards are those who follow the Dark Side.

It’s not what one is able to do… It’s what one is willing to do that gives him power, Padawan.

The Emperor works in ways a glorified trinket merchant like you could never understand.

Princess Leia Organa would note years later that her adoptive father Senator Bail Organa had once, sadly, recounted a story to her where an unnamed senator—one whom he implied was a close friend—had noted that the jubilant acclaim was “how liberty died.”14

lifeisposi 05/04/2024 It’s that special day again—May the 4th be with you! Let's channel our inner Jedi and harness the force of positivity, adventure, and a touch of cosmic wit. Embrace the spirit of the galaxy far, far away, where droids beep, lightsabers hum, and epic adventures await. So, whether you're battling the dark side of procrastination or navigating the asteroid field of daily challenges, remember: with the force on your side, anything is possible. May the 4th be with you, always!

I am an extension of the Emperor’s will. My actions here simply execute his directives. The Emperor is the mind. I am his tool. Is a tool responsible if it is used to kill someone?

This is an important lesson for the galaxy moving forward: there will always be those who are prepared to accelerate the death of democracy if they believe power is being given to someone worthy.

The role of a historian—my role as a historian—is to try to tell you not just how but why these things happened. To try to make you understand the importance of these past events and what they mean for us today and tomorrow.

He made me suffer in every way a human being can suffer, all for the love of the Emperor.

To be a historian is, at times, to be cursed.

Silence isn’t the same as peace.

Cooperate with us. Do as we say, and you keep your throne. He wouldn’t be having this conversation with her unless he thought she’d inherit that throne soon.

The Empire wanted not only its officers’ service but also their souls.

Too often we think of standing against evil as an act of bravery when recent events have shown us that it should instead be considered one of necessity.

Enough people knew what the Empire stood for. What it meant. What it promised. And they came out to fight against it.

in clear violation of the Galactic Concordance.

The Galactic Empire endures. Despite the destruction of its terrifying Death Star by the Rebel Alliance, its oppression spreads undiminished across the stars.

The War Is Not Over. The second Death Star is destroyed. The Emperor and his powerful enforcer, Darth Vader, are rumored to be dead. The Galactic Empire is in chaos. Across the galaxy, some systems celebrate, while in others Imperial factions tighten their grip. Optimism and fear reign side by side. And while the Rebel Alliance engages the fractured forces of the Empire, a lone Rebel scout uncovers a secret Imperial meeting…

Hey, Gwen. How’s it going?” he asked. “Good, Martin,” she replied. “How are you today?” “Fine. I’m fine. I gotta say though, this meeting, with all of these motions being raised and seconded, I feel like I’m in one of the Star Wars prequels.” “I know!” Gwen enthused. She proceeded to go on at length about how much she loved the Star Wars prequels, and how particularly the parts set in the Galactic Senate gave all of the events much more of a sense of gravitas. Martin drank his coffee as quickly as he could and tried to pretend the conversation wasn’t happening.

The “Urantia Book” states that there are over ten million planets with Extraterrestrial life in our Universe. My Beloved Readers, please realize that there are infinite numbers of Universes in GOD’s infinite body. Archangels Michael and Faith and their Legions of Light are a couple of our great Guardians in this Cosmic Battle of Armageddon. We have all heard of the Orion wars and other galactic battles. The Star Wars movies are actually based in part on a true story in our galaxy’s history.

Imperial Navy had been in existence by that name for less than a decade, since Chancellor Palpatine put down the traitorous Jedi and transformed the Republic into the Galactic Empire.

Five standard years have passed since Darth Sidious proclaimed himself galactic Emperor. The brutal Clone Wars are a memory, and the Emperor’s apprentice, Darth Vader, has succeeded in hunting down most of the Jedi who survived dreaded Order 66. On Coruscant a servile Senate applauds the Emperor’s every decree, and the populations of the Core Worlds bask in a sense of renewed prosperity. In the Outer Rim, meanwhile, the myriad species of former Separatist worlds find themselves no better off than they were before the civil war. Stripped of weaponry and resources, they have been left to fend for themselves in an Empire that has largely turned its back on them. Where resentment has boiled over into acts of sedition, the Empire has been quick to mete out punishment. But as confident as he is in his own and Vader’s dark side powers, the Emperor understands that only a supreme military, overseen by a commander with the will to be as merciless as he is, can secure an Empire that will endure for a thousand generations …

He might have remained a Judicial were it not for a growing schism that began to eat away at the department’s long-held and nonpartisan mandate to keep the galaxy free of conflict. On the one side stood Tarkin and others who were committed to enforcing the law and safeguarding the Republic; on the other, a growing number of dissidents who had come to view the Republic as a galactic disease. They detested the influence peddling, the complacency of the Senate, and the proliferation of corporate criminality. They saw the Jedi Order as antiquated and ineffectual, and they yearned for a more equitable system of government—or none at all. As the clashes between Republic and Separatist interests escalated in frequency and intensity, Tarkin would find himself pitted against many of the Judicials with whom he had previously served. The galaxy was fast becoming an arena for ideologues and industrialists, with the Judicials being used to settle trade disputes or to further corporate agendas.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. In Star Wars, a currency known as the “Galactic Credit Standard” or “credit” functioned as money.88 According to Wookieepedia, a website devoted to all things Star Wars, credit was created on Sojourn, a moon on which the InterGalactic Business Clan (IGBC) vacationed.

O join us, friends and mortals, on the scene— Another chapter of our cosmic tale. Luke Skywalker returns to Tatooine, To save his friend Han Solo from his jail Within the grasp of Jaba of the Hutt. But while Luke doth the timely rescue scheme, The vile Galactic Empire now hath cut New plans for a space station with a beam More awful than the first fear’d Death Star’s blast. This weapon ultimate shall, when complete, Mean doom for those within the rebel cast Who fight to earn the taste of freedom sweet. In time so long ago begins our play, In hope-fill’d galaxy far, far away.

If you’re only trying to be the opposite of a thing, you’re still letting that thing define you.

Few people were aware of what had become of Anakin Skywalker, but it was not long before nearly everyone in the Galactic Empire had heard some rumor or stray fact about Palpatine’s new servant.

Just because your whole world is a sultry caped strut along the galactic catwalk of life doesn’t mean the rest of us have to live in discomfort.

At some point, while listening to spacers talk of faraway worlds, he became aware of the Jedi Knights, the powerful peacekeepers of the Galactic Republic, who used lightsabers: a handheld weapon that emitted a lethal, truncated laser beam. Despite his limited knowledge of the Jedi, he sometimes had dreams of becoming one.

So you gave up your dream to do your duty.

This study will not always make for easy reading. As has already been mentioned, and will become clear in time, the depths of the Empire’s crimes were truly horrifying. They were also not always equally felt. Many planets and species suffered far more than those in the Core Worlds. Similarly, while some humans - such as the Alderaanians - lost everything to the Empire, the inherent prejudices of that regime often focused in on those who were not human. The Empire, and those who orchestrated it, often spoke with a mix of disdain and disgust about “aliens” across the galaxy. There is no hiding the fact that, as a human, I have no experience of living with this type of prejudice, which still, sadly, endures. There are, however, things that can - and should - be done to mitigate this. While it may be necessary to sometimes quote the words of the Galactic Empire regarding the targets of its violence, there is no need to replicate their mindsets and use of language outside of this. The term “non-human” is problematic in its own ways but in the absence of a better one it is infinitely more acceptable than the pejorative “alien” that the Empire was so fond of using. Furthermore, where possible, I have attempted to highlight the experiences, writings, and voices of those who actually suffered under the Empire’s prejudices and genocides. We should not follow the Empire’s lead when it comes to silencing the victims of its many crimes. These are not perfect solutions and I accept the knowledge that they may fall short of what is both expected and required by those across the galaxy who lost both loved ones and worlds to Imperial aggression. They have a right to criticize failings of my own making, and I apologize to them for any of my own shortcomings. I can imagine that there will be those within the field of history and elsewhere who will find a declaration of my own potential blind spots to be unnecessary, but to them I say simply, this is an integral part of being a historian. As I recognize and analyze the relevant sources for this study I must too recognize and analyze myself. The survivors of the Battle of Crait have become fond of saying, in moments of sorrow and loss, that “no one’s ever really gone.” It seems to bring them solace and I respect that. But I do not feel it. I have immersed myself in the existing records and writings and sources that relate to the Galactic Empire. And all I feel is the absence of lives that it brought. The multitudes who suffered and died. The further into this dark history I have gone the more horrified and haunted I have become. That is why this study now exists and why it is so important that you read it.

Since the end of the Galactic Civil War, for most of the last thirty years, it was thought that the history of the Galactic Empire was clear and easily understandable. That the New Republic had successfully taught the next generations about the horror inflicted upon the galaxy by Palpatine and his followers. It seemed to be an easy message to explain something that was now safely behind us. My colleagues and I congratulated ourselves on the ways we’d been able to take the realities of the Empire and convert them into lessons in schools and universities, which would then further ripple out across the galaxy. We were so sure that we had created the perfect way of preventing future conflicts and a return to Imperialism. We were fools. I was a fool. As much as we might have wished that the remnants of the Empire could have been left to rot beneath the sands of Jakku, it seems that we could not be free of it so easily. I recall the shock I felt when Resistance agents brought back from Batuu - among other things - word that there were traders in Black Spire Outpost selling busts of Emperor Palpatine and other trinkets of his fallen Empire. How could this be? What must have happened to make the image of the Emperor - a man responsible for the murder of billions - acceptable enough to sell and own, even long after his apparent death at Endor? How could we all have gone so astray? Recent events have shown us that Imperial ideology was not, as once hoped, a thing of the past and its return pushed the entire galaxy over the edge of disaster. The First Order brought death and tyranny with them out of the Unknown Regions. Hosnian Prime was destroyed just as Alderaan once was. Billions died across the galaxy as the New Republic disintegrated in the face of an enemy that sought to subjugate all worlds.

Bear witness, she thought. That’s all you can do for them now, so do it.

You no longer have names. You are only numbers.

Save your twisted words, my lord. There are no politicians here. The Sith will never regain control of the Republic. It’s over. You’ve lost.” Mace leveled his blade. “You lost for the same reason the Sith always lose: defeated by your own fear.

People kept their heads down, and Ahsoka would have to do the same, but keeping her head down wasn’t the same as ignoring what was happening around her, and Ahsoka had no intention of doing that.

He stood at a metaphorical cliff’s edge, stamping his foot in an effort to cause an avalanche. With Galen Erso’s treachery undone, he would gain the allegiance of Vader. With Vader’s backing, he would expose the incompetence of Tarkin—the revelation of rebel survivors from Jedha. With Tarkin humiliated, Krennic’s command of the Death Star would be uncontested, and he would confer with the Emperor himself as to how it might best be used. Krennic would be, in every way that mattered, the most powerful and decorated man in the Empire. Or he would fall from the cliff and bash his skull open on the rocks. And his Death Star would fall into the fumbling hands of Wilhuff Tarkin. Tarkin, Erso, Vader—how had so many men conspired against him for so long?

I have a really bad feeling about this…” “Then we must be doing the right thing.

The Empire’s a giant. And giants don’t care about ants, which means we can do whatever we want.

We won’t always be free to travel wherever we will. We won’t always be able to take the time to attend elaborate parties. We won’t always have the chance to dance with the ones we love… So dance now.

The Chancellor played his hand very well,” Bail said. He spoke the word chancellor with some venom, and Ahsoka knew it gave him great satisfaction not to say emperor when they were in private. “He kept us so busy jumping at shadows that we didn’t notice which of the shadows was real.

Make ten men feel like a hundred.

They’re out there, Drake. They’ll come back to Coruscant, restore the order and make things the way they were. We must stay true to the Force… to take back what’s been taken.

All Imperial officers should be prepared to sacrifice their lives to do their duty.

There were degrees of treason, and some could never be forgiven.

Yoda was wrong. It’s credits that bind the galaxy together.