Civilian stores

MIDLEVEL CANTINA, DECK 69, SECTOR N-ONE, DEATH STAR

The size of the station was mind-boggling. Memah still couldn't get her head around it. Her tiny part of it, which was to become a working cantina, was half again as large as the place that had burned to the pavement back in the Underground, and she had been given more or less a free hand to furnish and run it. At least, so far. She'd been assured that, as long as she didn't go crazy and try to outfit the place with platinum draw taps or the like, the Empire would cover the cost.  If she kept getting news like that, she might just have to revise her opinion of the new regime.

Rodo drifted past the desk where she sat working up an order form for refreshments and intoxicants. If there was a fermented, brewed, or distilled spirit that wasn't in stock, she had yet to learn of it. There were beers, ales, wines, liquors, malts, brandies . . . both generic and brand-named. The legally allowed chemicals that could be eaten, inhaled, dermed, or otherwise taken were likewise available across the board. All she had to do was tick it off on the complex Imperial order form and then wait for delivery. It was apparent that whoever had set this station up had planned ahead for such things.

 She looked up from her chore at Rodo. "What?"

 "Contractor's on his way to install the tables and chairs. He says it's a two-day job, tops."

***

Star Wars: Death Star Part 1 Chapter 25