The twelve hour shifts on the death-star were always something Tiaan never liked. Nobody ever liked. The long working hours, and the conditions-having to bare the stress of its final construction not being ready by its due date. Lord Vader had already stopped by earlier in the day to ‘encourage’ faster work. It certainly worked-even though his men were working as hard, and fast as they could. They were simply asking for too much.

The moff keyed the pad to his quarters door, entering as it slid open. He was always a simple man: his quarters were bare save for a standard-issue bed, a drafting table, and some flimsiplast laid out on it. He always preferred the reusable paper over the Datapad for storing his information on his own projects.