Monday, June 27, 2005


I had one of my ranking senior generals arrested today and he will face proper repremand, I can assure. As is custom, a group of newly-aged clones all around 12 years of growth, arrived to take a tour of the grandest fascility in the galaxy where most of them will probably be stationed in the future. The had all just started their lunch in the mess hall, after seeing several of the better sectors, when General Jackson manipulated his way into luring several of the boys into a side room for, what he now claims was just to "test their resolve." WTF? I don't have a clue as to what that means. Luckily, one of my steadfast troopers saw the danger and broke rank to inform us, stopping anything beyond Jackson's administering of his so-called "Force Juice" to the younglings which was already beginning to drunken them.

On a separate note, however. Upon the physical detainment of the general, several T.T's harboring together close by began diputing the way those "white troopers," as they said, were handling the suspect,.. claiming it had something to do only with the fact that Gen. Jackson was wearing a black uniform. This has got to be the strangest f*c$ing week I've ever had.

back on track

Today I met with members of the empirialist board and discussed the future of our Hydrogen Converters needed for survival, but what are beginning to be seen as far too expensive. So, after taking the advice of a fellow board member, it was voted on unanimously that new water-evaporation technology found on a relatively close planet will be looked into in the future.

I sent a memo to the Emperor concerning the lack of healthy- lighting within the station itself and the sombering effects it is having on some of my troops... I can only assume, this far, that this is the reasoning behind some of the trooper's behavior, and I have put together a committee to further investigate my suspicions.

My work is coming to find its routine, and I can only assume that it will be uphill from here on out. Every outpost has its perspective problems, and, I know things started off on the wrong foot, but I feel confident about this arrangement.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

the east side of things

I took a walk through the East Side of the battle station this afternoon and was disturbed at the lack of self-respect these Tie-Troopers were exhibiting. Needless to say, they respected my rank and my position, but I have to admit feeling a little embarassed upon walking up on one who happened to be drunk and urinating on a bulkhead, in public view. He was immediately ordered into custody by my guards, and, upon doing so, I could sense a strange atmospheric change in attitude by the other Tie-Troopers. ( I shall refer to them as T.T.'s for short) But, nevertheless, they appeared to stand their rank, in file, yet exhuberated a controlled anger towards my officers.

This serves as an example to me, being my first initial contact with their sector, that these T.T's are not normal. I shall write to the Emperor, himself, and update him on my growing suspicions. Also, I will charter an investigation to check on the cloning process, itself, in regards to the breeding of T.T's.

trouble on the horizon

We had our first homicide on board today, involving a lowly clone trooper who apparently wandered into the "wrong side" of the battle station. The East Side wing has recently been housing more and more of the Tie-Pilot Troopers in the newly renovated "government housing sector," and we have henceforth been receiving unimaginable complaints about their area ever since. This is fascinating. The galaxy has never known this type of behavior, however these pilot-troopers are becoming what I have determined as, self-segregating, and are clearly growing evermore intolerable of authority. This will stop, I assure you.

There have been no reported witnesses to the soldier's death, and more frustratingly than that, these "Tie-Troopers" are unwilling to be cooperative, even though they have all been BREAD to be obedient! The only statements made were quite confusing to me: "Their white armor ain't wanted 'round here," is all one pilot conjected. What does that mean? These troopers are all CLONES of the same individual; they all receive the same standard government training, " although, I can't help it if the Tie-Pilots refuse to fully work at their education, rather than spend most of their time playing hyper-ball or something." But now I am hearing that they are becoming organized and demanding the same equality as the other "white" clones.

The Tie-Troopers wear black uniforms which separate them from the others, so what? This will not change. Each division begets a different uniform design signifying their particular duties in the empire. I will, however be putting together a special task force to keep watch over the Government's Housing Equality and Tie -Trooper Outpost, or, as I call it, G.H.E.T.T.O. for short to ensure the empire's law remains supreme and that it will be adhered to.

Saturday, June 25, 2005

Back to Work

I don't even have the energy to correctly enter this into log. I have missed the last day of work and have fallen so far behind on my paperwork, because my ex-wife showed up out here causing her usual bullsh%#. Getting word of my new position in the empire, she obviously assumes that her alimony will now increase,... We all know it will, given the way the empirial courts side with that specific gender on almost every damn thing nowadays. Lord, how I wish I could of just been born gay.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Vader's Surprise Visit

Dear Galactic Diary,

I am ashamed of myself, and feel that I have allowed the recent stressors of my new job to overrun my natural judgement and sense of humor. Today, as I was completing my necessary paperwork in my office, I was startled when my seat slid away from my desk and I was levetated over two feet into the air and suspended for several moments. It wasn't until I heard Vader laughing from behind my closed office door that I realized what was going on, and I was not amused. As if that weren't enough, after that, it appeared as though he was taking pleasure in pushing my buttons about my current "arrangments" as he put it, almost as if he knew how I was feeling about my recent experiences here.

I, shamefully, erupted at him verbally, exclaiming that at least I still had appendages that I could call my own, and that I did not require the aide of a portable iron lung to help me breathe. I think that I might have gone overboard with those comments and have felt bad ever since he left my office with nothing more to say and somewhat emotional. I will appologise to him, when next we meet. I know now that he was only trying to be friendly and was simply playing around to "break the ice." ... But he made me so freaking mad at the time. I will try to be understanding in the future.


Dear Galactic Diary,

This just pisses me right the hell off! Not only was I not given the proper treatment upon my initial arrival this afternoon, but come to find out the office reserved for me, "The Grand Moff," was moved from the 12,317th floor, as originally promised, to the bloody 11,692nd floor! Worse yet, it is a corner office, poorly illuminated with an ivy plant resting on the room's only table. My room is gray all around, missing several ceiling tiles, and is without a space window to view the galaxy. I'm sure that this is either someone's idea of a joke or a just a test.

It took me a while to come to terms with the arrangments, but, all in all, I will set the example to my troops and complete my duties as Grand Moff. Unfortunately, however, given the time spent moving my things in today, and my constant confusion of repeatedly going to the wrong floor after each trip to my shuttle,I was unable to begin swaping out the staplers and paper as instructed earlier by lord Vader. This I will get on first thing tomorrow, I promise.

P.S. I think that I have begun picking up on what appears to be mild tensions between certain groups of clone troopers towards each other. I will be monitoring this closely in the future.

Minor Setback

Dear Galactic Diary,

I'm do to receive my new office in only a matter of hours but have already been given my first task. A memo posted from Vader, himself, has explained to me that I am to retrieve all staplers on board the battle station, as well as all blank stationery and replace them with ones having been given the galactic seal. This makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, and, if true, will keep me from my professional duties for the better half of over two weeks. This battle station is only 22% complete, but is scheduled to have a circumference of approximately 11,000 miles. WTF? I will, however, do my solemn duty no matter how juvenile the order may seem, but will assuredly make sure that further demands are posted through my subordinates and not asked directly of me.

First Day in Office

Dear Galactic Diary,

Today is the first day of my new career in the Galactic Empire. I have just been promoted, and I am proud to say that I will no longer be going as Wilhuff, having taken the title of, Grand Moff, given to me by none other than the Emperor himself. I am proud to say that my acomplishments within this organization are finally being brought to fruition. I take control of the new battle station tomorrow at noon and look forward to completing it, as scheduled, and henceforth governing the outer region with due regard for the interest of the empire.

I am, however, compelled to state my concern over the Emperor's newly constructed "friend," known simply as Vader. He his rather robust and somewhat striking, but I feel that he mocks me ever so slightly under his face shield. Whatever bond they have, I assure you that I have no intention of coming between. Nevertheless, tomorrow promises to be an exciting day, and I look forward to receiving my new office.