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Part 5

Wes paced again across the small lobby he was tasked to guard. The grouchy colonel had departed nearly an hour ago, and the chastened (but unrepentant) major had been starting to nod off with nothing to focus his mind on. So he had taken to walking up and down his tiny domain, all of eight steps across and back again. He had considered opening the outer door for some fresh air and a change in scenery, but with his luck a commando team would choose just that minute to use his post as their entry point to the base, and the colonel would probably stick him on duty here for a year in consequence. "'Until I learn to do it right,'" Wes grumbled to himself, imitating the colonel's too-proper voice and inflection.

The bored pilot paused in the middle of the lobby and stretched, looking up the hallway that led into the rest of the base. The hall was slightly narrower than the security lobby, but very long, surprisingly so until one studied a diagram of that level (which Wes had done about half an hour ago, out of desperation). Several loading docks were located on the same level, leading into a section of warehouses for base supplies. The warehouses all backed onto the same major corridor, running parallel with the outer wall of the building; the hallway leading to Wes's door ended on that same corridor. Several doors on the right side of the hall led into the neighboring warehouse, all of them security-locked against improper access. He had tried the closest one, but his ID wouldn't let him inside.

Plopping back down in his chair, Wes sipped at the large cup of caf he had thankfully thought to fetch before coming on duty. At least the Imperial-wannabe colonel hadn't taken it away too, he groused to himself. Setting down the cup, he stared at the desk, at a loss. The chrono beside the terminal monitor said it was just past midnight; he was on duty until 0600. I wonder if any of the Rogues will stop again on the way back? he thought forlornly. Maybe I can offer to shine their dress boots or run their next maintenance checks if they'll stick around for some sabaac? He briefly considered comming his astromech to smuggle him a datapad loaded with something entertaining from his personal files, but quickly gave it up. Even if the droid was allowed to descend to this level, the stubborn little thing would probably refuse. It enjoyed his occasional misadventures almost as much as his fellow pilots.

Wes shot upright as a tone sounded from the door. Someone actually wants in at this Force-forsaken spot? Quickly turning to the monitor displaying an outside view, he saw a frustrated-looking Quarren dressed in a nondescript set of overalls, impatiently slapping a hefty datapad against his palm. Huh? He keyed the outside speaker. "Please state your name and business."

"Aruul Navik, from Qawati's Cafeteria Supplies, with a delivery. Open the door already, will you?"

Wes mentally upgraded 'frustrated Quarren' to 'very frustrated Quarren.' "This isn't a loading bay, you're at the wrong door. Try the next one down."

"No, this is where I'm supposed to be. I've got the order right here." The Quarren brandished the datapad at the door as if threatening to knock it open by force.

Wes considered for a moment. He was sure that the delivery person was not actually in the right place, but he was at least warm and breathing. Perhaps Wes could just step outside and direct him to the right place in person instead of talking at him through the door speakers? It would be more polite, wouldn't it? Of course it would. Okay, so perhaps it was a slight break in security protocol, but it would be good PR for the New Republic military. Right? Right. Having talked himself into it, Wes pressed the button to unlock the door, then walked across the room as it hissed upward.

Aruul Navik immediately turned and gestured to someone behind him. Wes took in the large delivery hovertruck sitting outside, two droids maneuvering behind it as its large rear door slowly folded upwards. "We're behind schedule, get those crates moving," the Quarren called overbearingly.

"Whoa, hang on a second. Let me see that delivery order," Wes demanded, holding out his hand for the datapad.

Aruul Navik arrogantly stuck it back in his pocket. "I lied," he declared. "We were supposed to unload at Dock Gamma-23, but they've got ten trucks in line already. I'm not sitting around all night waiting for them to get to my load. We're dumping here."

"What? I don't think so, this isn't a loading bay. What about Gamma-21, maybe they can take --"

"They've got the overflow from 23 already. And 19 has the overflow from 21. You people should put someone competent in charge of scheduling deliveries," Navik said condescendingly. "I could do a better job myself."

"Yeah, so why don't you tell it to someone who cares," Wes muttered under his breath. "I'm sorry, but you can't unload -- hey, wait a minute! Get that stuff out of there!" Wes ran to stop the burly utility droid that was pushing a loaded hover-pallet into the lobby. The droid ignored him, setting its load down in a corner opposite his desk. Right behind it came the second droid Wes had seen, and then a third. With three pallets, the lobby suddenly felt a lot smaller.

Wes took a deep breath, trying to hold on to his unraveling temper. "Mr. Navik, I'm sorry, but you've got to get these things out of here. The loading docks will be free soon, I'm sure. In the meantime, you'll just have to wait like everyone else."

Navik ignored him, waving a fourth droid forward as the first trundled back onto the transport for the next load. The latest droid set its pallet down in the last available bit of space against the lobby's far wall, leaving a path through the middle of the room clear. Wes strode back outside, grabbing the taller Quarren by the shoulder. Navik shrugged him off, addressing the next droid maneuvering towards the door. "P-5, you'd better take that the whole way down to the end or there won't be room."

"Oh no you won't... Oh, no. No, no, no," Wes said, his eyes growing wide as he caught sight of the lineup outside the door. Behind the large truck being unloaded by Navik's relentless droids, sat another seven just like it.

Continued in Part 6...