The prison block remains, as ever, an uninteresting place. The cells themselves are empty--the only remarkable thing, most of the guards don't even know about: a completely dark room at the very end of the corridor, often mistaken for a maintenance hatch by casual visitors. But today the silence has been interrupted: the figure of Chairman Wilhuff Tarkin enters, escorted by a small squad of black-clad guards. He nods wordlessly at the prison guards and approaches the little black room. At the sounds, the prisoner lets out a small groan and shifts away from the light. Click.