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Part 9

Rolling away from the transport that had provided him with cover, Wes pushed up to his knees, and then regained his feet, grabbing one of the rear door handles to drag himself up. His legs shook, an effect of ebbing adrenaline. The roiling angry feeling that gripped him was also slow to dissipate. It was one thing to face death during a planned mission, when one knew the risks going in, but being ambushed was another story -- especially at a secure base on a peaceful planet, during an assignment that was supposed to be more or less a joke by an old friend. Well, the joke had long since stopped being funny. Wes took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly, trying to regain control. He flicked his blaster's safety back on, but couldn't bring himself to holster it just yet.

Now that the shooting was over, other responsibilities came to the fore. Pushing away from the transport he leaned against, he took the few steps around to the door of the hovertruck on his other side, the one they had shot the window out of just before the speeder patrol appeared. He pulled open the door and was relieved to find no one inside. The truck itself was much the worse for wear, though, ugly blaster burns marring its side and front end. Wes shook his head, but that wasn't his problem now.

Looking around, he saw a few of the drivers hesitantly opening doors or looking out from windows of the transports at the far end of the line, the ones that had been farthest from the worst of the swoop damage. He hoped most of them had been over there, killing time while the trucks were unloaded. Brun MkAliver still sprawled on the ground where Wes had left him; only now was he lifting his head from the duracrete to look around. The major trotted over to him, offering a hand to help him up. "Are you all right, sir?"

The man climbed shakily to his feet, brushing at the front of his clothing. "Yeah, I think so. I heard of such things, shootouts in the lower levels, but I never woulda thought I'd be in the middle of one, y'know?" He laughed nervously, eyes darting around as if more swoops might drop out of the air onto their heads.

"I know. How about you go and check on your people, make sure everyone is safe? I've got to call this in." MkAliver nodded once, a quick jerk of his head. Wes clapped him on the shoulder, then headed inside to his security desk.

An alert tone was beeping insistently at his terminal. Wes keyed open a comm channel, responding to the summons. "Major Janson here. Situation under control, the swoopers are gone."

"Major Janson, Gamma Control. Understood. Colonel Heshen and a security team are on the way to secure the area. Are there any injuries at your location? Over."

"We're determining that now, I have the driver in charge checking on his people." Wes looked up at the sound of an airspeeder arriving outside, marked boldly with the base security insignia. "Looks like Colonel Heshen's team just arrived, stand by."

"We copy."

Wes jogged back out the door and headed for the speeder. Most of the personnel disgorging from the craft were dispersing around the area, taking up covering positions around the transports, talking to the drivers. "Colonel Heshen?" Wes called, unsure which of them was the officer in charge. "Colonel --" Rounding the end of the craft, he nearly walked into a man headed the other way. It was none other than the grouchy colonel who had reprimanded him earlier in the evening.

Stopping abruptly, Wes reflexively started to salute -- realizing just in time that he still gripped his blaster in his right hand. Colonel Heshen's scowl, the same that had been directed at him before, intensified. Quickly putting away his sidearm, Wes finished the salute, which was returned. "Major Janson. Is everyone here accounted for?" the senior officer curtly asked.

"I don't know yet, I asked one of the drivers to check on -- oh, here he is," he said as MkAliver walked back over to them, accompanied by one of the security guards. "MkAliver, are all your people safe?" Wes asked.

"Yeah, we're all fine. Navik was just about hiding under his seat, he was so --"

"Is the unloading nearly finished?" Colonel Heshen interrupted.

Startled, MkAliver turned his attention to the shorter man. "Yeah, we're almost done. Ten, twelve more pallets to go."

"Good. Please have your droids hurry, so that we can reclose this door. I'm afraid the transports will need to remain where they are until we finish investigating this unfortunate incident, but we will post guards and have someone see all of your drivers home safely. We will contact your employer in the morning about damages and compensation."

"Thank you, sir." MkAliver nodded, then looked to Wes. "Major Janson, a pleasure meeting you."

"The pleasure was mine, MkAliver," Wes responded, nodding to the driver. MkAliver walked away with the guard, and Wes turned his attention back to the colonel, who was standing with arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised. "Yes, sir?"

The colonel eyed him for a second longer, then abruptly turned away. "I have no time for your incompetency now," he said brusquely. "I'll deal with you later, Major."

"My ... what?" Wes was shocked speechless as the colonel strode away.

Continued in Part 10...