Following the success (in my opinion) of A Matter of Time, I have decided to try another multi chapter story. This one will focus on Palpatine at random points in his life, hopefully giving insight into his thoughts and feelings on various events. Just to let you all know the events of this story will NOT OCCUR IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER (does everyone get that? Good) but rather shall be at random points in his life as inspiration comes to me. At the very worst I will be able to give an update maybe once a week, but please don't hold me to that. Well here we go. I don't own Star Wars and therefore I am not making any money off of this story. Please leave a review!

"I haven't rejected the dynasty I was born into. I've rejected the name I was given."-Palpatine.

What is the intrinsic value of something as simple as a name? Few people really think about it, but then again people rarely think of things that are truly important. A name gives a person identity and defines who and what they are. It connects them to their surroundings, speaks of their past and paints a picture of their future. Names give things power, power for themselves and power over others. It is this last point that has become a rather… contentious sticking point for me.

"Cosinga! Cosinga, pay attention to me boy!"

I'm roused from my musings by that wretched voice I know all too well, pompous and whining.

Father is red in the face, he has spent the last half hour bellowing himself hoarse, at least I think that it has been a half hour, I honestly haven't been paying attention.

Mother is sitting in the corner, head in her hands, sobbing quietly. How pathetic. The ever annoying children I am loath to call my siblings are nowhere to be seen. It's one of the few sensible things that they are capable of doing. Even they, thickheaded though they are are just intelligent enough to know never to be near Father when an incident occurs. That's what they call these things behind my back, incidents. Anyone else in this miserable excuse for a family would be quivering with fear at Father's wrath. I find it amusing. He's so easy to provoke.

A sudden sharp sting of pain erupts on my right cheek and I find myself once again brought back to reality.

Father has struck me.

This isn't the first time he's done this, so I'm used to it. I suppose now I'll humor him by actually paying attention to his little tantrum.

"This isn't a laughing matter boy! Two people died because of you. You were this close to being sent to prison for murder. I should have let the police arrest you, maybe then you would learn some responsibility."

It really is sad that he honestly thinks that he can intimidate me with such an obviously empty threat. I put aside the anger I feel at Father's physical abuse, but I do not forget it. I put it in an ever growing compartment of grievances and slights filed away in the recesses of my mind. I lean back, raise an eyebrow and give him a rather cocky look. He hates that.

"Really Father? You would throw your own son, your namesake no less out into the cold to fend for himself? I think not. You and I both know that if the details of this sordid affair were to come to light that it would irrevocably tarnish your career. Because that is what you really care about. We both know that. I could go to the pits of Chaos and you wouldn't bat an eyelash, but heaven forbid anything happen to put your career at risk."

He's quivering with impotent rage again. He knows I've outsmarted him again.

"Damn you Cosinga, I've paid a small fortune keeping you out of trouble and how do you repay me, me, the man who made you who you are? The worst part is that you can't even show actual gratitude for everything I've done for you, let alone actually conjure up some remorse for the crimes you've committed."

What an unusual thought, this thing they call remorse. I've never had it before, but based on how it has been described by my acquaintances it doesn't sound like a very pleasant sensation. I'll muse more on this later.

"It really isn't a crime father if no one knows you've committed it. As to the pedestrians who died, it is hardly my fault that they were in the lane when my speeder hit them. They should have gotten out of the way or better yet not been foolish enough to be standing there in the first place. As for your generosity, it is nothing more than a transparent attempt to further your own ends. We both know that this little discussion shall end just as all the others have. You yell and scream, mother sits in the corner like the helpless little wretch that she is and in the end nothing is accomplished. This is an act of futility, and frankly it bores me."

I get out of my chair and proceed to exit the dining room where our little meeting was taking place.

"COSINGA PALPATINE YOU GET BACK IN HERE OR ELSE! I AM NOT THROUGH WITH YOU!"

That is who I am. Cosinga Palpatine II, first born son of Cosinga Palpatine I. But all things must come to an end. I stand in the archway separating the dining room from the living room. The vein on Father's neck looks like it is about to burst. Mother is whimpering in the corner as she is prone to do, whispering over and over again that broken mantra, "My poor Cosinga where did I go wrong?" Or some other form of sentimental garbage. I turn to the two of them, each contemptible in their own unique way and say,

"I have often heard that parents are able and sometimes willing to disown their offspring. You are not in a position to do so Father, for your political opponents would use it against you gladly. I however am not compounded by such limitations. Let it be known that I shall no longer answer to nor use that name that you have saddled me with. From now on I shall answer to Palpatine and Palpatine only."

I was expecting more rage, more vitriolic hate. I expected Father to start throwing things or turn over the table. I didn't expect this though. It seems that the fire has gone out of him. He collapses into a nearby chair, his face blank. Mother is crying very loudly now.

He looks at me, and for a moment I almost think that he is saddened by this. But I know better. It is nothing more than a blow to his ego.

Silence reigns for what seems like an eternity (apart from Mother's sobs).

"Why?" he finally croaks.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts on the matter and then I give an impromptu speech.

"When a parent names a child I feel that that gives the parent power over that child. You have no power over me, you never have, you never will. Furthermore, of all the names in the galaxy you had to give me you gave me your name, as if you actually thought that your name was worthy of me. I am your eldest child, and you hoped to mold me into your image as your successor. But why should I lower myself so considerably in order to be shaped into something as lowly as yourself. You lack vision Father, you lack ambition."

"We have enough." He feebly tries to argue.

"ENOUGH?!" Now it is my turn to be angry.

"Enough is never enough Father. You are a pitiful old man who is more concerned with securing your reputation and powerbase in provincial politics. You look towards the past; thinking of the glory days when being a member of House Palpatine actually meant something. You look no further than Naboo and concern yourself with gaining prestige in insignificant ways. But I, I look to the future. I see countless opportunities waiting for me. The entire universe is ours for the taking if we try hard enough. Power is just lying there, ready for us to take up at a moment's notice. This house could be truly great, known and respected the galaxy over for our power.

But no, it is enough that we have influence on little old Naboo. It is enough to be known and shown respect in Theed. It is enough for you, but we are unknown beyond this world. Because of your incompetence and your stupidity countless opportunities have been squandered. We could be great, I could be great, but we are all dragged down into the filth of mediocrity because of your bumbling."

Father squirms in his chair under the heat of my wrath. He's trying desperately to come up with a rebuttal, trying to come up with an excuse for his failure. I won't give him the opportunity.

"That is your primary failure Father. You lust after power. You chase after it and covet it, but in the end when real power actually comes within your sight you are far too timid and fearful to grab it. And so you make excuses for yourself. You lower your expectations, settling for less while yearning for more. And that is why you are always so angry. You want power, but you are too scared to pursue it, and it tears you apart, because you recognize your own inadequacy. That is your burden, and you will carry that failure to your grave, of that I am certain.

That is what the name Cosinga is to me Father, it is everything that you are. It is failure, incompetence, stupidity, and a lack of real ambition. That name does not describe me. It never has, it never will. And so I renounce it, I renounce it and everything associated with it, for in the end I shall never lower myself to be something so woefully dismal and weak as you."

"So that's it then?" Father asks.

"That's it." I turn to leave, but think better of it. I've hurt him badly, now I would like to rub his nose in it a little more. "The House of Palpatine is a noble one, and I continue to carry its name proudly, but as head of this household your incompetence has dragged our name through the dirt, making the name Palpatine synonymous with limitation and a passive acceptance of the status quo. I intend to be more proactive. When the blessed day comes when you finally throw off this mortal coil and have the common decency to die I shall begin the long and arduous task of rebuilding and restoring this family to its former glory. And then I shall surpass that former glory. Every mother's child on every planet in every Star System of this galaxy, from the Core Worlds to the Outer Rim Territories shall know and respect the name Palpatine.

It won't be easy. Countless years have been wasted by you playing local politics, but that shall change soon enough."

Silence hangs over the room once more like a shroud. Finally, after minutes of thought, Cosinga is only able to utter an ultimately meaningless platitude.

"I would have bequeathed unto you a kingdom. This world could have been yours one day." Father's misery at my disowning of the name he gave me seeps into his voice despite his best attempts. His argument is as feeble as he himself is.

"A single world could never fully satisfy my ambitions Father. I care not at all for the sad excuse for a legacy you wanted to give me."

"What could possibly be bigger than to have power over an entire world?" Father asks. He doesn't understand, he never could; it really is sad to watch.

"Why, to have power over every world of course." I respond.

"Don't you think that such a thing is impossible for you to reach." He tries to argue.

He will never understand. This conversation begins to annoy me and so I end it by simply saying, "Nothing is impossible Father, any objective can easily be obtained if a person has the will to do it."

With that I leave those two fools who call themselves my parents to stew in their own inadequacy. I need to get out of the house. What a derisible old man, thinking that he can keep me under his thumb. I have a greater calling, I know that to be true. I do not know yet how I know this, but I am rarely wrong.

I deserve better, and I am capable of doing so much more. I can be so much more. And I will be so much more than what I am now. I will make my mark on this galaxy. History shall remember the name Palpatine long after I have died and my body turned to dust. They shall all speak of me and my accomplishments with reverence. It will all be mine someday, for I have the will to make my dream a reality.

Someday, but not today.

For today though I shall revel in my victory. In a sense I feel reborn, for by ridding myself of that name I have shed the illusion that my family has lived under all these years. I answer to no man but myself. For I no longer have such a shameful name associated with such a wretched man. But while I still possess my family's name, I still have no personal name. Shall I give myself a new one?

No, I think not. First names can give individuals power, but a lack of first name can give power as well. It gives a person a sense of ambiguity, of mystery, much like a Shade I suppose. I find that quite appealing. I am now officially my own man with any and all pretenses disposed of. For now though I shall have to continue living with those cretins. Who knows, they might still be of some use to me yet.

Yes, Palpatine is a fine name. No need for anything more or less. For my immediate purposes it shall suffice. I shall be great, in spite of Father and in spite of the name Cosinga.

I am the Master of my own destiny, and nothing will stop me from attaining that which is my birthright.

Nothing.