The Smartest People in the Room

Bothawui
Drev'starn City
17 Boulevard of Liberation - The First Minister's Residence

The most jarring aspect of public service was precisely how much of that service was conducted within intimate distance of the places where you actually lived, or so Taataani thought. There was a vulgar human saying that warned one shouldn't shit where they eat. As long as one didn't dwell on why someone needed to be told that, the saying had enough thoughtful mass to it to transcend as a parable. Yet on Bothawui, Taataani had learned that like everything else on the Planet of Spies, parables didn't long survive the erosion of reality. As a Senator, she'd held limited court in the parlor of her official apartment, but she could also reasonably escape that sort of thing when she needed to vacation to Taltimant, Glee Anselm, or wherever. As the First Minister of the Alliance of Free Planets, having time and space to call your own was now officially a luxury that even someone as wealthy as she couldn't afford for a change.

The last bastion of that sanctity was her bedroom. First Minister Meorrrei wouldn't be expected to hold court here. Well, not officially, in any matter. No, here she could take the necessary moments to be vulnerable, even if only for a span of minutes. Like a Praxian Gladiator, the First Minister began to gird herself, ensuring that the sashes and trusses secured the outer mantle of her burgundy and gold gown. In place of vambraces and daggers, she donned bangles inset with jewels and etching. She clipped matching pairs of earrings into place, six in total that ranged from light to heavy as they traced down her feline ears towards her jawline. A triple-tiered necklace with polished sea coral links ran from the base of her neck to the lady-like plunge of her hem. Her rings were next, two heavy faceted stones that rested in their settings like thrones on each index finger. Once the rings were seated, Taataani flexed out her claws to full extension, checking that her prior application of polish was even. Lastly, she carefully seated her wig, this one a brunette piece spiraling up into a bun, with a shock of red peeking through the coils that rose high and back. Satisfied, she drew up the hem of her dress, rising to her feet as she headed to the door. A tap on the button next to the wall opened a comm link to just beyond the threshold.

"jI'm rreadjy."

The door glided open on air, revealing two high-plumed Senatorial commandos, each with shouldered force pikes. In unison they took a full step back, giving her space to pass. Taataani regarded them as she might a piece of furniture, and exited her quarters towards the Concordian Room, an expansive and curved conference room, where her cabinet had been summoned and was now waiting for her first session.

In Adigann Keez's estimation after having the title of Chief of Staff of the First Minister for all of a week: from this high up, the differences between private life and public life were small. A few weeks ago, even a conference room as nice as the one he was in now was simply a conference room. As CEO of the Malastarian energy sector juggernaut Coaxis, the only time he gave a damn about naming a thing like that was if an investor bought in deep enough. In government, you were expected to know what the room was called, because this is where it all happened. Depending on how you felt about the process, it was either hallowed or sordid, but the weight that was thrown in a place like the Concordian Room had enough proverbial mass to tip a planet off its axis, if not a sector's worth. Government was alive in that way that private sector marketing executives would sell their soul to achieve.

Adigann's comm chimed, drawing the Dug out of his thoughts. He set the device to discrete mode, pressing an opposable toe against the folds of one ear where the auditory bud was wedged.

"Understood."

With that simple comment, he terminated the line, sorted his small stack of dataslips before him with his feet, and looked to the others in the room.

"She's on her way. Try to keep things concise when she gets here. Sales pitches, no manifestos. If you're about to drop a bombshell in her lap, let me know about it so I can manage the blast radius."

The Dug paused, taking the temperature of the room as he spread his feet in an upturned gesture, as if to invite any questions or pre-emptive disasters.

"She's going to want a win today, so lets focus on that."

The similarities between private and public became apparent once you got over that hallowed symbolism and found the space between the repulsor and the road. Putting the sum of the Chief of Staff's duties into a bite-sized portion, he was here to manage the talent, and make sure they all played for the same team. That meant knowing who else at this table was liable to suck up all the oxygen, and who might need a little coaxing to contribute. He needed to know the ones who spoke their minds and to sort them from those who were careful not to fully commit to that. On top of that, he needed to know who had allegiances to whom, and likewise where the grievances stood. And if that wasn't enough, Adigann had to know the name of the person behind each person in each of these chairs, just in case his boss wanted a body count. That part wasn't politics. That part was business. It was ultimately the allegiance to the bottom line in a place like this that counted. The Senate could play politics until they shouted the senate house apart for all he cared. In the Concordia Room, you were either on the team, or you weren't.

It wasn't hard to read a resume, and Adigann had done plenty of that even before he'd even gotten the official nod. The few million credits he'd thrown into Minister Meorrrei's coffers had bought him a seat at that table, and as part of the transition team, he'd had at least some hand in vetting everyone here. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the balance of the First Minister's cabinet were women. It probably was somewhere more than coincidence and less than intention that the First Minister had stacked her deck that way. To the Cizerack, femininity conferred strength. If all else is equal, dance with the devil you know.

Grace Van-Derveld had been inherited from former First Minister Ave's administration. That gave her an aura of seniority and pedigree to that could both be useful and an impediment. Adigann would have to ensure that she wasn't able to use that leverage to set the room's agenda. However, because she'd carried over from administrations, that also spoke to the fact that First Minister Meorrrei valued continuity in intelligence, or at least had no cause to question the current course.

Further down the table was Leeandra Longstar. The War Secretary's reputation as he knew of it was for measured response. She was a good pick in that she wasn't hawkish to the point of risking an escalation when it was inappropriate, but she likewise wasn't someone to roll over.

Further from Longstar was the Education Secretary, Clea Modries. Unsurprisingly an academic, there was nothing to cast doubt on her competency, though she didn't have a track record of wearing her politics on her sleeve. Adigann wasn't sure if there was a specific angle with her selection, and it was one that the First Minister had provided little guidance on. She could possibly be someone on the staff to hedge what could otherwise be seen as a conservative center of gravity, or it could be that the First Minister had some specific initiatives in mind to be broached at a later date. The Dug made it a point to get to the bottom of the matter sooner rather than later.

The rest of the cabinet all fell more or less into known quantities. Parack Bell was over Industry and Economy, and it wasn't surprising to find a Muun there, especially one that had carried close financial ties to the Meorrreis before. Conservative and risk-averse, he rarely made waves that he didn't have to make. The Verpine Krzik Zzakkyk as Home Secretary also made sense, as she had a proven track record for organizing public works with cost and labor efficiency. The empty chair at the table was the Secretary of Astrogation. In a perfect galaxy it would be Ryzer Klade of Lantillies, but the Senate had his confirmation tied up in a procedural quagmire. The First Minister was being patient with the process, but depending on how the next week went, it might end up being more prudent to cut bait and find the next name on the list.

That left the man without a seat, standing at the far side of the room. Kallum Romanoch - his deputy. He was an anomaly, and Keez didn't like anomalies. He'd tried to bring in his own talent from Coaxis to work as staff, but Minister Meorrrei had put her weight behind this person - enough that Adigann wasn't sure if she'd have disposed of her Chief if he'd insisted on his own people. But why? The two apparently had a working relationship from her years as Baroness Executrix of Incom-Koensayr-Meorrrei. It was irksome that this Romanoch had some kind of access to the FM that he didn't. That kind of professional intimacy felt poised like a polite proverbial vibroaxe somewhere over his head. Emotion aside, the Dug had to admit that if Kallum Romanoch was indeed Minister Meorrrei's kill switch, he was well-positioned to do just that. The only thing this upstart didn't have was a resume to justify the corner office. So far, so good.

Twenty years in Education had taught Clea a lot about how much what should be common sense turned into some utterly controversial arguments, which could make things more difficult for students of all ages. The Centares-born advocate had participated to multiple think tanks and committees, especially in the last decade, to encourage not only literacy - which had been her first war horse so to speak, but also accessibility especially for poorer communities. She believed in equity and diversity; and to her, the Alliance should aim to reduce disparities. There was no magic erasure of problems; but she hoped that by fund allocation and helping local infrastructures, change could happen.

While she didn't consider her vision to be particularly progressive, for they were based on common sense, which had yielded research and practical plans of actions, she had nevertheless been surprised when offered the position of Secretary of Education. For what she had known of Prime Minister Meorrrei, the woman was quite on the conservative side of politics. Clea had never been deeply embedded into a given political party, even back on Centares; but she had often been called out as progressive, too much to some people' taste, for she believed in the importance of providing learning resources of various types, for all.

She had very little interaction with Cizerack in the past and her knowledge came second hand and from her research, which of course was different from direct interaction. It was no surprise though, given how other species were lower on the food chain for what she knew of their views. Seeing a significant amount of women in the Concordia room had also made sense in that regard, and that wasn't something Clea disliked at all, for gender issues remained and equality was one of her core values, even though the Cizerack tended to operate in a matriarchal way, the other side of the patriarchal coin that could wreck havoc on too many people. She was nevertheless grateful for the opportunity to work alongside other brilliant women, and believed she had a change to make a difference in her new role.

Truth be told, she expected to butt heads with other members of the Cabinet as it was part of any political process, although she was agreeably surprised that most positions appeared to have been filled by people whose professional background and expertise matched their new role. She could be a team player; but she wasn't willing to betray her values even though she understood that others could well be more conservative, besides the Prime Minister. Time would tell how it unfolded, and she was keenly aware of how no significant change or team building happened overnight.

The Chief of Staff's voice cut through her pondering. Looking at him, she nodded when he said that the Prime Minister was on her way. His comment about Meorrrei wanting "a win" was slightly condescending in her view; but her facial expression remained the same neutral politeness as she nodded and returned her attention to her notes. Of course, the Prime Minister would have no want of a bloodbath during this first meeting; but Keez's insinuation the Cabinet might exist to fluff her ego was one of the reasons why Clea could be wary of politicians, despite her latest career development.

In her view, all members of the Cabinet, just like the Prime Minister, were here to serve and better the Alliance. Healthy debate and finding compromise were part of the job, but above all else, Clea believed their duty was to the citizens.

"Oppo Lumeer and Visk Haro."

Kallum broke the silence, inviting all eyes in his direction. He'd waited all of eight seconds, following Adigann's opening words. Ten had been the target, but in the end, it turned out he could weather no more than eight seconds of an uncomfortable vacuum in a room full of these people. And now they were looking his way, he felt his pulse quicken. For many, it marked the first time they'd even heard him speak: Kallum's voice possessed the hearty sophistication of a Chandrilan upper-cruster, and a clarity and richness of texture typical of someone who studied philosophy and economics at the Royal College of Theed. Despite the inherent formality of his tone, he carried himself with the casual ease of a Corellian bartender, leaning against a smooth panel of Brylark wood, beside the chiselled bust of some balding someone-or-other.

"The Uyterese Agriculture Minister and the CEO of VerdaVisdicorp, respectively, you might have noticed have bagged themselves some airtime today, by making unveiled threats on the upcoming Lesser Lantillian trade negotiations. The Uyterese sentiment on big government notwithstanding, I think it's safe to chalk this down to the posturing of two ambitious cousins intent on making waves ahead of the First Minister's maiden cabinet meeting."

While he spoke, he saw in the faces of his unlikely co-workers the full gamut of reactions, ranging from shameless vacancy, to overt disinterest, and even a few promising sparks of recognition. Unlike the actual Chief of Staff, who demanded, and was wholly entitled to, their precious time, Kallum had no such privilege; his acquaintances were made as a by-product of proximity, necessity, and serendipity. In its way, this relative freedom afforded him the space to educate himself on matters he would otherwise have no business talking about. Vic Turbo, his senior assistant, saw to that; a miniature force of nature from Torque, Vic studied law and economics at Mile High University, Grid Town. She interned at Scrabus, Dabbis, and Sox, one of the most prestigious law firms on Bothawui, where she was snatched up by Adigann's team, prior to Kallum's appointment as Deputy Chief of Staff. What this meant was that, basically, he had the most overqualified secretary in the galaxy.

In that first week, much of their time was spent together, muddling through each new challenge that came their way; she, outfitting him with the smarts to go toe-to-toe with lawyers, career politicians, and captains of industry, and he, passing it all through a filter that best served the First Minister's agenda. Already, he was feeling the distance between them, and already he could hear, in his head, Taataani's glib remarks about apron strings and flying the nest. She was his trump card, and, to many he suspected - including the Chief of Staff - the sole reason why he held his position, in the first place. There was some unavoidable truth to that, though they were fools if they thought Taataani Meorrrei the type to knowingly weaken her position with a shoddy spot of nepotism. In the end, they didn't yet know him, so he didn't take it personally. His job was to do his job, trust and familiarity would follow.

Now to test the temperature of the room. His eyebrows climbed an expectant fraction, as he said:

"You might think this is important, but it's not. Lumeer and Haro want a seat at the table, let's not give it to them."

Parack Bell was doing his best to avoid eye contact. Kallum suspected the Lesser Lantillian deal presently took pride of place on his list of priorities, and the thought of having to take it off the day's agenda was, understandably, a real pain in the arse. And, if Progue Abidash had been in the room, she almost certainly would've turned several different shades of red, by now. There was a pointed and prickly conversation waiting for him, the moment he was beyond the safety of the Concordian Room - of that much, he was sure.

The whole thing was shrugged off with a wry smile.

"Unless, of course, you have a particularly brilliant idea how to get them to back down off the cliff edge. In which case, tell me, so I can take full and shameless credit for it."

It wasn't the Muun way to let passions get the better of oneself. Parack Bell's immediate reply to the brash Deputy Chief of Staff was to take a sip of water. A sip and not a gulp. Careful and measured, like all things should be.

"I agree that Lumeer and Haro's tactics and press-exposure are distasteful, but there is too much money on the table for us to push the talks off the agenda. They can be as loud about this as they want to be, they're a side-show compared to the election of a new First Minister. The FM's inauguration would crush this stunt if they compete for the same time in the press. It's absurd."

Bell punctuated his estimation with a small indignant sniff, and gently set his glass aside.

"It's good economic sense. A week, maybe two of negotiation, and we can sell that the FM has helped to save ten million jobs along the Corellian Trade Spine. All it costs is a small spending package that we can sell to the Senate. We suffer a few regional demogogues their pound of flesh, but in the end, it's still the economy."

The Muun upturned his spindly-fingered hands in an expression of expectation.

"I realize that sex sells, and that some in this room would prefer to shake things up in a more provocative way, like rattling the saber with the Empire. Besides being a tired ploy, is that really what we'd rather do in these honeymoon weeks?"

One of the Senatorial guard posted at the door briefly pressed a finger to the earhole of his helmet. Half a second later, his posture shifted ever-slightly. His counterpart posted at the other side sensed the shift, and mirrored it.

"All rise for the First Minister of the Alliance of Free Planets."

A shuffle of bodies and seats preceded the airy whooshing of automatic doors as two more guards escorted the First Minister inside. This pair flanked the room, eventually finding respective corners at the back to stand at attention. Taataani took her time on the path to her seat at the head of the table, taking her measure of each person on her cabinet. She herself offered little in her expression, allowing the finery she wore and the last amounts of beauty she retained to help to obfuscate a read on her intentions. She eased into her high-backed chair. A subtle shift in her seat was the only tell of the unseen, as she slipped her shoes off underneath the table and out of eyesight of everyone save the two guards who escorted her in.

Acknowledging with a glance at the array of industry tycoons, academics, scions, professionals, and politicians before her, she dismissed their pomp with a simple word.

"Ssjit."

She laced her hands in her lap as she waited for everyone to take their seats again. There were looks of anticipation, that was to be expected. Taataani noted that Minister Bell's normally calm demeanor seemed a little disturbed, but declined to confront that just now.

"We have fjive jyearss, gentleman and ladjiess. Fjive jyearrss to leave the galaxjy a betterr place than how jit lookss now. Not ourr corrnerr of jit, but the whole thjing. jIf we do a good enough job, majybe we'll get fjive morre. jI know none of jyou took thjiss job forr the monejy. jI'd ljike to thjink that jyou'rre afterr the ssame thjing jI am, but jI won't quesstjion jyourr motjivatjionss unless jI have to. Whateverr rreasson jyou'rre herre, jyou've ssjigned up forr the harrdesst job jin the galaxjy, and that'ss made harrderr bjy the fact that each of jyou ansswerr djirrectljy to me. jI won't tolerrate excussess. jIf jyou plan on telljing me no, then jyou'd damn-well betterr have a betterr jidea to follow jin the next brreath. jI assked jyou herre becausse jyou arre the ssmarrtesst people jin the rroom, sso to sspeak. What jyou have done sso farr has earrned jyou a place at thjiss table. But jI prromjisse jyou jit wjill not be eassjy. jYou majy not ljike me afterr thjiss jiss ssajid and done, but jI can rresst eassjy asss jI have enough frrjiendss. The Electorrate jiss jyourr bosss. jI am thejirr forrewoman. jI won't hessjitate to usse the whjip jif jit comess to that, sso jI want to sset jyourr expectatjionss rrjight now."

She paused, leaning back just enough to find the cushion of her chair.

"Outssjide of thjiss rroom, therre jiss one vojice - the Admjinjisstrratjion'ss. Whateverr passess that thrresshold, therre jiss no djissagrreement, no matterr jyourr mjissgjivjingss. jIf jyou feel compelled to brreak rrankss, jI want jyourr rressjignatjion on mjy dessk the dajy beforre jyou do. But jif jyou sstajy at thjiss table, jyou follow mjy rruless."

The First Minister took another measure of her Cabinet.

"jIss everrjyone clearr on thjiss?"