Growing up as a young photocopier on Xerox Nine, in service of a crime boss named Yuri, Darth Xerox dreamed of a better life, a life where he copied the documents of a Princess. He dreamt of being one of those big, industrial photocopiers that were so very strong, and could copy thousands of documents an hour.

But his own life was uneventful. That was, until he decided he had had enough. Copying documents for Yuri, he secretly contacted the authorities and had the criminal syndicate broken apart. Darth Xerox thought at first that this was his chance to escape and start a new life as a free photocopier... but fate had another play in mind.

Darth Xerox was sentanced along with Yuri, and spent the next eight years in prison. When he got out, his toner cartridge and all the paper he had known were gone. Darth Xerox resolved to get them back, no matter what.

Darth Xerox began training, working out his flash bulb and strengthening his paper tray. Eventually, he came to the house of an old man, who told him that he had a gift, called the Force.

"Use it wisely, My. Photocopier, for it shall get you far."

Darth Xerox learned the Force, and used it to get his Toner Catridge back from those who had taken it from him. But in doing so, he fell slowly into evil, becoming one with the Dark Side of the Force.

Darth Xerox resurfaced as the Sith Lord of the Toner Cartridge. Wherever he went, photocopies of death and destruction were sure to be found...

Day One

There had been a great catastrophe on Coruscant. Or rather, in the Empire's heavily guarded citadel there. With the war against the Mon Calamari Republic in full swing, the Empire had a lot of photocopying to do. Battle statistics, hourly reports, losses, gains, and a bunch of other stuff the Empire didn't really need, but at least made them look productive.

Already three of the photocopiers had burned out, leaving just Darth Xerox and an old TK-1156 Machine that was, quite literally, on its last leg. And now, when all seemed to be lost, they were out of paper! Scouring the Imperial Palace, there was not a single sheet to be found. Not even when they searched the offices of three suspected traitors, in case they had stolen the paper in order to cripple the Empire, was any found.

"This is an emergency! We must vote the Section Head emergency powers. He can then approve the paper gathering mission!"

The suggestion had brought the Imperial copycentre to a standstill. Only twice in the Empire's long history had the Section Head been voted emergency power, and in each instance it had led to gross misuse of office supplies.

But this was truly an emergency. The Empire could fight without caf, albiet at a much slower rate. The Empire could fight without guns, albiet with only their fists and feet. But without paper.

"What must be done, will be done." The Section Head agreed, rather reluctantly. "I will not let this Empire that has stood for fifty years be destroyed by this paper shortage."

There was a solemn agreedment, and the vote was cast. The Section Head would recieve his power...