HEADLINES

by Translation and Protocol Droid C4B0

During the recent Health And Safety Caucus in the Level 19 cafetorium several issues were brought forward by the Maintenance Committee. The inconsistent closing speed of blast doors was one. It seems that some doors close instantly while others take just enough time for an escaping rebel to leap though as he shoots one last volley of laserfire behind him. Concerns over the lack of railings on the extendo-bridges crisscrossing the station's numerous bottomless shafts were also raised. The Administration agreed to look into several key issues but drew the line at questions regarding an open, thermal exhaust port despite fears that an analysis of the plans stolen by Princess Leia might reveal it as a potential weakness.

According to Maintenance Ombudsman Borp Morgoon, "It's a small, thermal exhaust port right below the main port. It's crazy. The shaft leads directly to the reactor! Hell, this whole station could blow if the rebels decide to use an attack force of small fighters to penetrate our outer defenses." After he managed to stop his convulsive laughter, Assistant Moff Zimmerman was quick to calm the growing fear, warning the crowd to be silent lest the ring of stormtroopers around them open fire. "People, this is an non-issue," claimed Zimmerman, "We're the size of a small moon, for Chrissake! The Empire doesn't consider a small, one-man fighter to be any threat or we would have a tighter defense, I can assure you. The approach is not easy. They'd have to maneuver straight down a long trench and skim the surface to this point, a target area only two metres wide."

At this point a debate began between Morgoon and Zimmerman. Morgoon admitted that the surface defense of about 20 turbo lasers and deflection towers, some on the surface, some in the trench, was a potent deterrent. But he was quick to ask what might happen if several fighters cut across the axis and drew their fire while their companions headed into the trench. Zimmerman was unconcerned. "Yes, " admitted the Assistant Moff, "a precise hit would set off a chain-reaction which should destroy the station. But only a precise hit. The shaft is ray-shielded, so they'd have to use proton torpedoes and that's impossible, even for a computer."

"It's not impossible," insisted an increasingly irate Morgoon, "I knew a guy who used to bullseye womp rats in his T16 back home. They're not much bigger than two metres." Zimmerman was still unconvinced. "Oh, grow up! It's not as if some country-bumpkin with zilch experience from Tattooine is going to be allowed to pilot an X-wing fighter and pray to the Force for a miracle shot that will destroy us and make him a hero of the rebellion. That's a fantasy... space opera diluted from countless mythic sources. Besides, they'd need proton torpedoes capable of making a 90 degree turn after firing."

The meeting was hastily adjourned and the name of every dissenter was taken down for investigation as they filed out. Assistant Mofff Zimmerman left the room muttering, "They would have us retreat on the eve of our greatest victory?" Borp Morgoon vowed to bring up the concern at the next caucus, if he survives his questioning and re-indoctrination this afternoon.

END TRANSMISSION