Ra'a'mah
Baroness
The silence had already stretched long enough to make its own point. Ra'a'mah sat behind her desk with a datapad resting in front of her, the glow from its display reflecting faintly across her features as she reviewed report after report. Outside the windows of her Naboo office, sunlight danced across the waters surrounding Theed, lending the room a sense of calm that contrasted sharply with the subject that had brought Jax there. She turned another page, read for a few seconds longer, then finally set the datapad down and looked up at him.
"All right," she said evenly. "Give me your assessment."
Her eyes never left his. "Not the optimistic version. Not the version you tell other Jedi. Not the version you tell yourself when you're trying to justify another delay. Your actual assessment." One finger tapped lightly against the datapad. "Jairdain. The search. The rescue. Everything. Tell me where things truly stand."
She let the question hang for a moment before leaning back in her chair. "Because from where I'm sitting, this appears stalled." There was no anger in her voice, but neither was there much patience. "And before you tell me otherwise, understand that I am looking at results, not intentions. Intentions are easy. Progress is harder."
Her hands folded together atop the desk. "When an operation remains unresolved for this long, there are usually only a handful of explanations. Either you don't know what comes next. You don't have what you need to move forward. Or you've spent so much time trying not to make the wrong decision that you've stopped making decisions at all." A slight tilt of her head followed. "Personally, I suspect we're somewhere in that third category."
The words were blunt, but not cruel. They came from the frustration of someone who had watched capable people trap themselves before. "You love your wife. Nobody questions that. I certainly don't. But I've seen enough commanders, Jedi, politicians, and intelligence officers make the same mistake to recognize it when it's standing in front of me. The more important someone becomes, the more terrified we become of failing them. Eventually, caution stops being a tool and starts becoming an excuse."
Her gaze sharpened slightly. "Jair is my friend, Jax. I care what happens to her. Which means I'm running out of sympathy for explanations that ultimately amount to waiting for circumstances to improve on their own." A faint breath escaped her nose. "If she were sitting in that chair right now, she'd probably tell me I'm being unfair. Then she'd turn around and ask you why you're still sitting here instead of bringing her home."
For the first time, she gestured toward him with an open hand. "So, enough dancing around the problem. What do you need?" The question came harder this time, direct and impossible to misunderstand. "Ships? Personnel? Intelligence? Political access? Funding? Someone willing to tell you that your current approach isn't working?" She leaned forward slightly. "Because if this has genuinely stalled, then stop treating it like a burden you're required to carry by yourself. Tell me where you're stuck, tell me what obstacle you haven't been able to break through, and let's solve it. Jair doesn't need another month of good intentions. She needs results."
Jax Thio
"All right," she said evenly. "Give me your assessment."
Her eyes never left his. "Not the optimistic version. Not the version you tell other Jedi. Not the version you tell yourself when you're trying to justify another delay. Your actual assessment." One finger tapped lightly against the datapad. "Jairdain. The search. The rescue. Everything. Tell me where things truly stand."
She let the question hang for a moment before leaning back in her chair. "Because from where I'm sitting, this appears stalled." There was no anger in her voice, but neither was there much patience. "And before you tell me otherwise, understand that I am looking at results, not intentions. Intentions are easy. Progress is harder."
Her hands folded together atop the desk. "When an operation remains unresolved for this long, there are usually only a handful of explanations. Either you don't know what comes next. You don't have what you need to move forward. Or you've spent so much time trying not to make the wrong decision that you've stopped making decisions at all." A slight tilt of her head followed. "Personally, I suspect we're somewhere in that third category."
The words were blunt, but not cruel. They came from the frustration of someone who had watched capable people trap themselves before. "You love your wife. Nobody questions that. I certainly don't. But I've seen enough commanders, Jedi, politicians, and intelligence officers make the same mistake to recognize it when it's standing in front of me. The more important someone becomes, the more terrified we become of failing them. Eventually, caution stops being a tool and starts becoming an excuse."
Her gaze sharpened slightly. "Jair is my friend, Jax. I care what happens to her. Which means I'm running out of sympathy for explanations that ultimately amount to waiting for circumstances to improve on their own." A faint breath escaped her nose. "If she were sitting in that chair right now, she'd probably tell me I'm being unfair. Then she'd turn around and ask you why you're still sitting here instead of bringing her home."
For the first time, she gestured toward him with an open hand. "So, enough dancing around the problem. What do you need?" The question came harder this time, direct and impossible to misunderstand. "Ships? Personnel? Intelligence? Political access? Funding? Someone willing to tell you that your current approach isn't working?" She leaned forward slightly. "Because if this has genuinely stalled, then stop treating it like a burden you're required to carry by yourself. Tell me where you're stuck, tell me what obstacle you haven't been able to break through, and let's solve it. Jair doesn't need another month of good intentions. She needs results."
Jax Thio