I Was Reborn and Became the New Emperor of the First Galactic Empire

*Capital of Oldenburg, City of San-Mormero. Throne Room*

When news of the great battle between Prince Eugene's army and the invaders of Andora reached the capital, it became known that the prince had suffered a crushing defeat, and neither he nor his army returned. Only Duke Roosevelt and Marquis Felmor survived, having fled on horseback during the battle at Andora. They had realized defeat was inevitable upon seeing the colossal machines guarding the city. Three days had passed since the duke and marquis returned to the capital after the battle, a week since the prince's defeat. In the throne room sat King Leopold, gripped by unspoken panic yet maintaining composure befitting his status. His advisors, Roosevelt and Felmor, were present, along with several members of the Council of Estates. They had gathered to discuss the current crisis. On the far left stood a portly, quintessential aristocrat, brimming with pride in his lineage. In the center was a young, promising representative of the townsfolk and merchants. On the far right stood the Archbishop of the Church of the God of Creation. They debated responses to the looming threat, each with divergent views and plans.

"Due to the Andoran invaders, we've lost an entire city, plunging us into political and economic turmoil. I propose initiating peace negotiations with the invaders to ascertain the terms of our kingdom's surrender. It's the only way out of this crisis. We've already lost over 200,000 men, and our army is now mere crumbs on the table," suggested the young representative of the townsfolk and merchants, Walter Göehart, who had secretly visited Andora. Having witnessed the economic, military, and political might of this new nation, he believed Oldenburg stood no chance of victory.

"You dare speak such words in the king's presence? You wretched merchants only seek profit to amass more wealth. We aristocrats believe we must fight, even now! Your words border on treason!" growled the corpulent noble, representing the aristocracy. Merchants and nobles clashed in politics, their approaches to problem-solving irreconcilable. "In any case, we must prepare to battle these dogs who dared wage war against us."

"What are you saying? The enemy annihilated a 150,000-strong army! Only Duke Roosevelt and Marquis Felmor survived, and what they saw in that 'battle' drove them mad with fear, fleeing with their tails between their legs! These are renowned warriors and strategists of our kingdom, yet you propose a suicidal war! Lord Archbishop Gregor, support my stance against this pitiful aristocrat."

"The Church cares not who rules us, so long as their leader adheres to our faith and does not defy our commandments," the Archbishop replied calmly. The Church of the God of Creation dominated nearly the entire world. History showed that states not aligned with the Church were swiftly eradicated, accused of demonic ties and intent to destroy humanity, often through massive "Crusader" campaigns.

King Leopold sat in deep contemplation, staring at a fixed point. His mind churned with indecision. Duke Roosevelt and Marquis Felmor had been driven to madness by what they witnessed in that battle, a fact that deeply troubled him. His son Eugene and daughter Janet were missing. He saw only a group of self-interested figures desperate to preserve their influence and wealth: aristocrats clamoring for war against an enemy that obliterated two armies totaling 200,000 men; merchants and townsfolk advocating for peaceful surrender to accept new rulers; and the Church, indifferent to who governed so long as their religion remained dominant and lucrative, even selling indulgences for "forgiveness" of sins.

"Silence! You're hindering my thoughts," the king shouted as the three estate representatives bickered over their grievances. "Your plans conflict, which is understandable. But we must decide our course of action. Let us hold a vote: first for Walter Göehart's plan, then the Archbishop's, and finally the aristocrats'."

All agreed to the vote without objection. Walter was certain the king would side with the aristocrats, as their displeasure could lead to his deposition under the constitution, allowing them to install a puppet king from their ranks. Should the king attempt to consolidate power and ignore the Council of Estates, he could be removed and replaced with another royal heir. The Church's plan, barely articulated by the Archbishop, would likely garner only his own vote. The true contenders were the aristocrats and the townsfolk with merchants: either war and the kingdom's demise or peaceful surrender.

The vote concluded with the aristocrats prevailing, 3 to 1. Only Walter opposed war, while the Church voted merely to avoid further political entanglement. The king was prepared for another war. The capital housed the kingdom's entire army, scraped together from the borders and recent conscription, totaling 300,000 men. Without the Andoran invaders, that number might have reached 600,000. Walter tried to dissuade the king, but Leopold, clinging to the mantra "A king does not yield his lands without a fight," ignored him. Resigned, Walter abandoned his efforts to avert war. The young representative of the townsfolk and merchants left the throne room, utterly disillusioned with the king, knowing he must now report to his people, who had elected him as their voice.

Forty minutes later, after wandering the castle and stepping outside, Walter headed to the city square where commoners and merchants gathered, eager for news from the Council of Estates. Climbing a small platform to be seen, Walter announced the outcome. The crowd was outraged at the Council's decision and the king's choice to prepare for another war. Walter tried to calm them and restore order, but their fury only grew, teetering on the brink of rebellion.

"Quiet! Please, calm down and stop shouting. Such actions won't help our situation," Walter pleaded.

"Why should we listen to those gluttonous, pig-headed aristocrats sipping wine in their estates? We work and starve because of skyrocketing grain and bread prices, while those bastards sit and toy with human lives!" bellowed a bearded man, perhaps 25 to 30 years old.

"Exactly! Let them fight and leave us be! We want to live in peace, but these devils send us to certain death to protect their wealth, prattling about some aristocratic 'honor.'"

"Yes! The king has never heeded us throughout his reign. Now his latest blunder will lead to our doom! I've had enough! TO HELL WITH THE MONARCHY! WE DEMAND PEOPLE'S RULE!" shouted a young man, raising his fist, as the crowd roared in support.

"WE WANT A REPUBLIC! WE WANT A REPJournal!" The square swelled with some 125,000 people, and their numbers grew. Yet, if enemies attacked, they would defend their homes and homeland, paradoxically aligning with war despite their ignorance of political nuances, being simple workers and citizens.

Walter saw a fire in the people's eyes—a burning desire to destroy the aristocrats, the king, and the royal family. The crowd dispersed to their homes, only to return ten minutes later armed with pitchforks, axes, swords, shields, spears, and magical staves. Walter witnessed the spark of the Great Oldenburg Revolution. The armed commoners, torches blazing, marched on the royal castle, undeterred by the 300,000-strong army. To their surprise, the army joined their cause.

In the king's chambers, Queen Maria sat with a worried expression, gazing at her husband. Clad in armor, Leopold glanced out the window and froze in horror. A sea of torches and shouting voices filled the night, chanting, "Death to the king and vile aristocrats!" and "Let our state belong to the people!" He realized a coup was unfolding, akin to the one in the Deidan Republic fifty years prior. Grabbing his wife and guards, he attempted to flee. A secret exit in the throne room, fortunately near his chambers, offered hope. Reaching the throne room doors with Maria and opening them, he found Walter standing there, flanked by knights from the royal army.

"Greetings, King. This is the consequence of your decision for war. Now you'll pay for your mistake," Walter said with a venomous glare.

"You! How dare you incite rebellion against your king at a time when our kingdom faces such a threat!" Leopold roared.

"No, King. You are the threat to our new Republic! This land now belongs to the people! No more monarchy or aristocracy!"

"Damn you! You seek to establish a republic and murder my family! I'll end you!"

"KILL HIM!" the revolutionaries screamed, surging forward. The king and queen were brutally slain, their bodies paraded through the city with signs reading "Tyrant and Hag." Henceforth, Oldenburg was no longer a kingdom but the People's Republic of Oldenburg. Walter became the first Chancellor of the nascent republic. His first decree ordered the execution of all aristocrats, from barons to dukes, with their lands and wealth seized by the state. San-Mormero now aimed to defend its new republic from enemies marching upon them, unaware they were inadvertently upholding the aristocrats' cause, now extinguished.

The people's last hope lay in the republic's 300,000-strong army and a massive militia that overthrew the monarchy. Yet fate had already been sealed by a great emperor advancing with a formidable army to seize the capital.

*The Emperor's Army. Ten Minutes from the Capital*

My new army comprises some 100,000 clones. I created 120,000 in total, but 20,000 remain as Andora's garrison. Over three days, I meticulously prepared to invade their capital with this vast force. My first TIE bomber was ready, and I eagerly anticipated testing it, savoring the terror on my enemies' faces. Behind the marching column of clone soldiers trudged AT-ATs, two AT-TEs, and a single Juggernaut. I pondered changing my image. A fearsome Sith named merely Andrey? Unacceptable. Henceforth, I shall be Darth Andrey Sidious—or simply Andrey Sidious. Both sound suitably grand! Beside me, in the Juggernaut's pilot cabin, stood Lord Vader, gazing into the distance. Sensing his idleness, I decided to assign him a task.

"Vader, I have an important and highly responsible mission for you," I declared.

"Yes, Master?" Vader replied with interest, betraying a hint of boredom. Unlike in the tales, where he was ever occupied hunting rebels and slaying Tuskens or Jedi, he seemed restless.

"We're marching on the enemy's capital. You will personally lead the assault. Your mission is to capture their king and government. Upon entering the city, take the Black Wing unit and storm their royal castle."

"You wish me to infiltrate their headquarters and seize their command?"

"Precisely," I said, eyes fixed on the road.

"As you wish, Master."

"Excellent. Soon this pitiful nation will kneel before us, and all others will recognize our supremacy. We shall rule over them!" I cackled loudly, reveling in my ambitions. I couldn't wait to storm their castle and bend them to my will. Perhaps, once I capture the king and queen, I'll torment that princess, now bound and caged like a beast.

Darth Andrey Sidious's army marched toward the capital. Within minutes, they stood atop a high hill overlooking the city, unaware of the intrigues that had transformed the former Kingdom of Oldenburg into the new People's Republic of Oldenburg.