I spent several years as a Quality Assurance inspector for my squadron, and I remember being the guy that made everyone wince when I entered the room. But I was also the safety representative for my unit, which meant that I had to deal with OSHA, the EPA, and various other government acronyms gone wild. After watching Star Wars one fine day, I noticed some things that sat poorly with my career at the moment. This story has nagged me ever since, so I finally freed it. Hope you enjoy it.

I don't own Star Wars, any of the characters, or any of the royalties. Darn it!

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The Empire VS OSHA

Ch. 1 of 7

As the shuttle glided to a landing, Darth Vader and Grand Moff Tarkin dropped to one knee, surrounded by fifty stormtroopers assigned to the honor detail. The occupant of the shuttle was unidentified, but a message from Coruscant emphasized that the person aboard was a VIP. If it was the Emperor himself, there would be trouble if the proper decorums were not observed.

Vader didn't sense his master's presence, but the person inside the shuttle had a unique aura about him. It was an aspect of the dark side of the force that Vader wasn't familiar with. Was this some sort of new Sith knight? He'd heard the stories of old, but never expected that extinct breed to reappear.

The shuttle's boarding ramp extended and a short, slim man in closely cropped hair and a wrinkle-free black uniform stepped briskly down to the flight deck. His eyes darted back and forth, analyzing his surroundings in detail rivaled by the Empire's best sniper-scouts. His mouth was a disapproving line underneath a pencil-thin moustache. Held in his left hand was a clipboard so black that it appeared to absorb the light around it.

He looked around with an atmosphere of arrogance that put the average Imperial officer to shame. Spotting Vader and Tarkin, he approached with an expression of impatience.

Tarkin has risen to his feet, his features drawn tight. Vader sensed annoyance in Tarkin, but also fear. Who was this little man?

The answer came quickly. "I am Chief Inspector Quinton Baltus Draggonellis from the Occupational Safety and Health Organization. I'm here to conduct your pre-operational workplace safety inspection."

Tarkin forced a smile. "Welcome aboard, Chief Inspector. I trust your flight here was agreeable?"

Quinton scowled. "Not particularly. The shuttle's seating was not ergonomically suitable for someone of my stature. I experienced some discomfort on my journey as a result. Hopefully I will find things here in a better state of workplace condition compliance. I wish to begin my inspection immediately."

Tarkin, naturally appearing somewhat gaunt and pale on a good day, was so tense that he looked positively skeletal. He stepped off a few paces, indicating that Vader should follow. Tarkin muttered under his breath, "The Occupational Safety and Health Administration is one of the few remaining organizations that the Emperor has yet to do away with. This inspector represents a significant threat to the operational status of the battlestation. I want you to personally escort him on his inspection and resolve whatever discrepancies he may discover. We need him to leave with a positive report in hand – nothing less is acceptable. Do you understand?"

Vader nodded slowly. "I am to assist him in his inspection and remedy problems on the spot. I am not allowed to kill him, no matter how much he needs it."

Tarkin glared up at him. "This is serious, Vader."

Vader leaned over Tarkin slightly. "Have you ever known me to joke, Grand Moff?"

Tarkin's scowl somehow deepened. "Come on."

The pair returned to the waiting inspector. Tarkin forced another smile. "Lord Vader, please see to the needs of Inspector Draggonellis." His gaze conveyed the additional message Try not to aggravate him. With a curt nod, Tarkin pivoted and headed off at a pace much faster than usual for the man.

Quinton cleared his throat. "Chief Inspector Draggonellis."

Vader sighed. Fortunately the regulated breathing apparatus in his suit masked the disgusted sound from the chief inspector's razor-sharp hearing. "Please come with me to our central safety office."

Quinton shook his head. "I do not need to see your safety office. I'm here to inspect the station as a whole, and I do not wish to waste time dawdling in your safety department. I rather suspect that things are quite safe down there." He sniffed as he looked around the hangar bay. His attention focused on the far wall next to the massive hangar doors. He headed toward the shield generator, Vader following as quickly as his dignity would allow. "I see that you are using the Corellian RX-322 hangar bay deflector field generator. Are you aware that there's a recall on that model? I don't see the placard that signifies an appropriate modification to this device." He quickly made a note on his clipboard. "Not a promising beginning to this audit, I assure you." He pointed at the starfield on the other side of the shimmering blue energy field. "What if this device failed? Whooooosh! Freeze-dried stormtrooper popsicles in low orbit over the station."

Vader pointed to the generator on the far side of the hangar entrance. "Our backup deflector would activate immediately. The response time of the device is under one tenth of a second."

Quinton squinted at the far generator. "Oh, good. So we're relying on not one, but two improperly maintained Corellian RX-322 hangar bay deflector field generators. Double your pleasure. Tell me, is that suit rated for full vacuum exposure?" Without waiting for a response, he looked up at the Sith Lord with a practiced air of contained impatience. "Take me to the most recently completed construction zone. My inspection begins there."

Vader thought for a moment. He'd conducted his own evaluation of the construction on the station, encouraging the survivors that if they applied themselves a little more, they wouldn't share the fate of their until-recently living supervisors. "Follow me, Inspector."

"Chief Inspector."

Vader sighed again.