Scary Sprites

[Geneviève Lasedri]

It never hurts to revisit a good idea. Good ideas are hard to come by these days, after all. At least the leader of the Galactic Republic was aware.

Grand Admiral [member="Gir Quee"] was a face she was not exactly unfamiliar with. Not that she had spent much quality time with him, but back in the day, they had collaborated on a job that was hoped to see the end of the towering Sith monsters. That threat seemed to have faded in time, but there were always other sorts of monsters to slay.

Gen had always believed in air supremacy. Back in her Rebel days, starfighters were the bread and butter of their armed forces. Why should that be any different for the Republic, when its enemy was substantially ignorant of the art of warfare. Hokey religions and ancient weapons can only carry one so far. And that was why the Copycats had been developed in the first place. The technology could be the bane of the Sith in battles to come if it were actually used. Good thing she had a say in that. More than a say, actually.

Typical of her image, the Prime Minister strode into the military command offices with that unmistakable hat of hers, inciting salutes from a few of the officers--unnecessary, she deemed. "At ease, everyone. Please." There was no need to flaunt ranks; no need for any more attention than she was already bound to get. Many of these military folks probably deserved more respect than she did. She was a leader, but not necessarily a role model.

Clearance was hardly a question for Lasedri, as she was promptly directed to the Grand Admiral's office in short order. While she might normally go bicker with Supreme Commander [member="Kayleigh Tyven"], there was little need to bother her on this occasion. They could argue sometime later.

"Admiral Quee. It's been a while," Geneviève remarked as she arrived at his door, something of a smirk rising up the corners of her mouth.

 

[Gir Quee]

Gir let a smile crease across his face at [member="Geneviève Lasedri"]'s presence. He rose from his chair in his rarely occupied ground side office. He rarely spent time on Onderon, much preferring to remain mobile on the Obi-Wan Kenobi whenever possible. But he still could not completely escape the ground completely and the bureaucracy that went with it. The one good thing about it was that he saw more old and new faces then the just members of his crew and the rare visitor to the star destroyer. Gir stretched out a hand to greet the woman.

"It has been a while since we first met, Prime Minister," mused Gir, offering her a seat, "I find it's hard to believe that we would eventually find ourselves in our current positions back then. But what can I do for you today? Can I start by offering you a drink?"

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Hard to believe, indeed. Gen had been a longshot then; a longshot for any sort of 'civilized' office. The fact that she held this title--of all things--was a miracle or a horrid curse in itself. At least Quee had been more polished. Lasedri was a scrappy one.

Could she use a drink? Yes, actually. Anything to calm the quivering hands. "Yes, I won't mind a drink. Whatever you're offering." The Prime Minister took a seat and leaned her arms on top of the desk. "And just call me Gen. No need for all that formality." Everyone should be equal, of course.

"How's the war from the desk now?"

[member="Gir Quee"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Traditionally, most Republic officers had kept Whyren's Reserve on stock, a tradition dating back hundreds of years to one of the reformations of the Republic from a certain Rebel Alliance. But with Corellia shattered, and under the control of the One Sith, that was a tradition that he found next to impossible to keep. Some officers had taken up to using Ithorian Mist as a substitute, but it was not quite the same. After working with the Mandalorians at Toprawa, Gir found himself with another substitute: Tihaar. The blonde man took the bottle from his cabinet and promptly poured out its contents into a pair of small glasses. He handed one over to "Gen" and thought about her question.

He glanced at the relatively unfamiliar desk in front of him. It was refined piece made out of Kashyyyk-wood, and he thought quite likely a holdover from the last Grand Admiral. He knew that in many ways, it symbolized his office, his position. But that was part of the job he simultanously admired and despised. he knew the necessity of running the bureaucracy that kept the military moving, and there were even parts that he of that he enjoyed, such as writing out awards for soldiers or working on research and development projects. There was also a lot of paperwork he would rather not deal with, but that he knew had to attend to.

It was all part of the grand goal of winning the Republic's wars.

The presence of war itself was always a constant these days, though it seemed to vary in its tempo from time to time. It seemed to Gir that they were in a temporary respite of sorts, with all of the galaxy's governments struggling to quickly get their feet after the events of the Netherworld. It was a time to repair, rearm, and get ready for the next war. He shrugged at [member="Geneviève Lasedri"]'s question.

"It's hard to say for sure," mused Gir, taking a sip of the liquor, "I think we're at the eye of the storm. It's pretty calm now, but I'd wager that we're about to go fully back in a heated campaign with the One Sith. I'm just hoping that we'll come out of it better prepared to face them than they are for us. But it's going to be a challenge.

How is the Senate? Any better?"

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Not quite as versed in alcoholic beverages as her spacer cousin was, Gen simply accepted whatever was given to her and would at least allow a sip to avoid coming off as rude. Not that she was really making first impressions here. Last time she had met with the man in front of her, they were having a rather unattached dinner for two. It was odd to think about--and quite out of the ordinary--but at this moment, Geneviève noticed that wining and dining habits were perhaps the hardest to break for most people.

The tihaar was interesting, to say the least. It was not bad, but not especially in line with Gen's tastes. But she drank it well enough, a sip here or there. Certainly suitable enough.

An exhalation from the Prime Minister signified the frustrations of a politician. Not that anyone would really sympathize with her. The word 'politician' naturally meant that she was a sort of evil--something she could not entirely deny, though she did nearly everything about her job with the best of intentions. "The Senate gets little done besides complain about how I do my job." She raised an eyebrow with a hint of personal amusement. "Of course, they are so incredibly busy at bettering the Republic themselves. I must be the prime hindrance all the 'hard work' they are doing.

"It comes with the job, I suppose." She shrugged in acceptance of her standing. Many people loved her leadership, and many did not. It had been the same in the past, and it would be the same for any government personnel for eternity. "I'd rather work with our military leaders, to be honest, Admiral. They seem to be able to at least make up their minds from time to time. Sometimes I envy the more-or-less complete control some of you have." Everyone answered to someone, but some people were never questioned in the first place.

[member="Gir Quee"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Gir savored a gulp of the Tihaar, before letting it flow down his throat where it seemed to briefly burn. The man certainly did not envy [member="Geneviève Lasedri"]'s position. The political arena always seemed to be very polarizing, and loyalties often shifted far more often than Gir would ever be capable of keeping track with. That was the one good thing about the military hierarchy. While there certainly were disagreements, and personal politics often reared their ugly heads in the bureaucracy, everyone more or less shoved them aside when it came to the accomplishing their mission. The Sith were a powerful enough threat to unite such as disparate group of peoples to fight with one will, even if it was against the darksiders. But the man shrugged.

"The military hierarchy has its ups and downs," observed the man, "while I may have complete control over some things, there are others where I have no control. That is the one benefit of political life, you can always have control of your position, nor do you have to parrot other people's words out of your own mouth. But I'm assuming you're not just here to talk about the nature of hierarchy in the various cultures of the Republic, both federal and local..."

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

"Once upon a time, you and I were sitting down at a diner, I believe..." the politician mused, seemingly absent for the moment. Not that she was. A lot was psychological to her, whether she meant to play games or not. "I'm still tied to that business, despite the fact that I can't play traveling deal broker anymore. Lots of tech offerings still.

"Esprit developed a series of starship components back then. In fact, I believe there is still someone working that project, trying to improve the thing. Not sure how that will work out exactly, but it's interesting to think about." Another sip of tihaar broke her monologue before she resumed with her conclusion. Her hand rubbed at her right eye, which was feeling a little irritated today from the contact lens. "The Copycat series has so much potential to it if applied properly.

"We're losing on some fronts of this war, Quee. But we can hit them where they're weak; make them even weaker. Imagine their pilots being incapable of telling friend from foe, while the Republic fighters are completely in-tune with each other. So much confusion on their end, and absolute supremacy on ours." The Prime Minister procured her datapad and flipped through some schematics until coming across the profile for the Copycat: Sprite. "In a big battle, this is better than stealth."

[member="Gir Quee"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Gir looked over the schematics that [member="Geneviève Lasedri"] held on her datapad. Electronic warfare certainly was one of the more underestimated force multipliers in the galaxy. The Republic Navy was just starting to get is own native electronic warfare components on its larger capital ships, the starfighter force currently didn't have any such advanced devices. If her claims were true, and looking at the schematics seemed to suggest that were, the Copycat Sprite could be a big game-changer for the starfighter corps. He turned his gaze onto the Prime Minister.

"What would it take to get this device into the hands of our pilots?"

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

"Not much at all, honestly," Lasedri answered, once more taking a sip of her provided drink and swishing the liquid around her mouth. Routine drinking was just not something she was used to, and she found herself swallowing it quickly enough. Liquor was for getting wasted or for keeping battle spirits. Back in the day (Was it really twenty years ago?) she had indulged in alcoholic habits before and after mercenary busts to keep her blood running and her conscience out of the equation. But these days? She rarely touched the stuff. That was probably one of only a handful of things she did right with her daughter around.

"I still own Esprit--even if I let it slip and slip further out of my control each year." Company ownership bothered her on some occasions. She was Prime Minister. Was she supposed to be too heavily invested in any business? Was it morally upright? Her rival, the troublemaker Organa, had caused a ruckus with her own company.

Besides, Geneviève was still a socialist at heart. Yet this Republic was not, and she supposed she was within her rights to keep her guiding hand on ECHO Esprit if it meant serving her nation. Directing production of the Sprites for Republic use could not possibly be unpatriotic, could it? "All we'll need is a way to cover production costs. Aside from that, consider it a donation."

And consider it a political victory.

[member="Gir Quee"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Gir considered her words carefully. There seemed to be some things said between the lines, though he couldn't quite tell what [member="Geneviève Lasedri"] was thinking. Still, what she said was good news, and Gir was hesitant to look a gift horse in the mouth. The man pulled out his datapad from his desk drawer and began to pull up some inquiries.

"It is kind of funny how corporations work," mused the man, "they seem to quickly take a life of their own, becoming their own entity as they mature. As long as you're certain that Espirit can grow to meet the demand, I am certain that the credits can be found in the budget. Of course, I will need to talk to some ranking members of the starfighter corps about it, since it really is their matter of expertise than my own, but I'm almost certain that you'll at least find a few supporters there, and continue to have my backing with that project..."

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

"Indeed..." Gen responded, thinking over the morphing corporation principle. It was just like a nation. It could progress or it could stagnate. Though, to Geneviève, the ideal setup would integrate companies with the national identity itself. Perhaps not what Quee had in mind.

But political commentary was not necessary for now. Time to wrap this up. "It's done then, as far as I'm concerned." She rose from her seat and offered her hand to shake. "It's good to work with you again. Hopefully for a long time."

[member="Gir Quee"]