“He’s insane Wullf! Insane! I quit!” Agent Yogar Lyste cried out, clutching a box of personal items to his chest. Colonel Wullf Yularen sighed.
“Go home Yogar. Get some rest.” The Colonel suggested.
Lyste was livid. “No way! I’m gone for real this time!” The now former agent stormed out of Yularen’s office, and following behind him was Agent Alexsandr Kallus, leaning against the doorframe as he peered into the space.
“I think he really meant it this time, Colonel.” Kallus commented.
Yularen nodded. “Yes, I believe you are correct. It was only a matter of time, I suppose.”
Kallus chuckled. “And here I thought my assignment was tricky.”
“It is very lucky that your charge took a shining to you. Not all Agents can be so lucky.” Yularen added thoughtfully. This gave him an idea. Kallus had found the crashed Lasat, Garazeb Orellios, on an arctic expedition to investigate the crash site, fed to the public as nothing more than a shooting star. At first, the two may have clashed, but soon became inseparable, Kallus hardly leaving the compound anymore. Not that there was much to do aside from stare out at the desert around Area 51, anyway. Perhaps, Yularen thought to himself, he could see who was present at the discovery of their current problem to be assigned as Lyste’s replacement.
“You have an idea.” Kallus egged Yularen on, hoping to see just what his superior had in mind.
“Yes. See if you can pull the files on when we picked up Lyste’s charge. I want to know everyone who was present.”
A loud rumble down the hall announced another being’s approach to the ever busy Colonel’s office. A large, furry creature stooped down to fit through the doorway, followed by a shorter human with ruffled brown hair.
“Agent Solo.” Yularen greeted kindly, coming to terms with the fact that his email inbox would just have to wait.
Before the agent could reply, the being known as Chewbacca grunted our a string of unparsable growls and barks.
“He says that we are out of shampoo, I tried to tell him there is more but he just won’t accept anything but…” Solo explained, letting his words trail off as if the need for him to translate the Wookie’s words was to much effort to expect from him.
“He prefers Mane & Tail, no?” This was not the first time Wullf had dealt with the conundrum. He found the Wookie to be relatively mild mannered when treated respectfully, and quite smart seeing that he was able to understand English perfectly. It was a shame, he thought, that only Solo understood the being’s own language. If he had more time, Wullf decided he’d like to learn it as well.
“He does.” Solo replied, and Chewbacca spoke further. “Yes, I did order more for you. But it's just not here yet!” Chewbacca growled, shaking his head. “No, it did not get lost in the mailroom. Vanto is perfectly capable. I think.”
Chewbacca, frustrated, threw up his paws, a rancid musty scent wafting towards Wullf. He tried very hard to not visibly cringe.
“I promise you, Chewbacca, you will have proper soap in no time. Han, you can pay for express shipping next time. Spare no expense when it comes to our friend’s hygiene.”
Chewbacca nodded approvingly, thanking Yularen with a polite hum.
“Now, you might as well check down at deliveries, just to be sure the box was not left in a dark corner. And be sure to say hello to Dr. Organa on the way, I am sure she will be delighted to see you.” Yularen added with a grin. Han flushed a bright red. It was no secret that the swaggering Agent had a massive crush on the legal team leader, Dr. Leia Organa. Chewbacca patted Han on the back as they slid out of the office, bodies clashing against the door frame.
Now, Wullf thought to himself, back to my inbox…
“Sir!” Agent Kallus dropped a thick folder down on Yularen’s desk. “The requested information.”
Picking up the file, Yularen flipped it open. “Thank you, Alexsandr.” Checking the time, he figured he could read through the information over lunch. “I’m sure Zeb is waiting for you, enjoy your lunch.”
“Of course, thank you sir.”
As much as Wullf liked to think he was personable with his Agents, many of them still kept up strict military regime when on duty. It was a bit much, but he’d not fight anyone over their habits.
Pulling a tuna salad from the small refrigerator behind him, Wullf cracked open the lid and scooped up a large chunk onto a cracker, eating as he read over the personnel list from the Amazon Investigation. The commanding officer has been Captain Parck. That was no good, he’d been long transferred to the CIA. There was then a sting of unremarkable Agents, but Wullf found himself lingering on one name. Eli Vanto. The mailroom supervisor. What the hell was he doing here?
The folder offered no information as to Eli’s inclusion in the mission, but pulling up his profile, Wullf saw that Vanto was bilingual whose family was from Colombia. Made sense that Parck would bring him along as a sort of guide and interpreter. Now, his mind was really racing. Vanto had been working the mailroom for years, something that could drive even the strongest willed people insane. Sure, it was a gamble, but it was one Wullf was willing to take seeing how many Agent’s he’d lost to this case.
Now was the time to think outside of the box.