A New Challenge (PM to join)

[Nick Sept]

[member="Jack Sparrow"]


Sept waited outside the Supreme Chancellor's office, with a decent large black briefcase in one hand and a furrow brow. The truth was, since the loss of Carida, Denon, and Cartao, it was getting harder each day. His time, the time of the other clones, it wasn't forever. And frankly, even he had to admit it wasn't looking good. This conversation needed to happen, and soon.


Still he nodded politely to the receptionist. "Sorry," he said softly, "I'm doing the nervous twitching again, aren't I?"


"Most politicians have a better bluffing face, Senator," he said with a smirk.


He laughed weakly. "Most politicians didn't get voted in at knifepoint," he said dryly. "The truth is that my whole career isn't very normal, even by Senate standards," he said with a nod. "Jokes aside, I hope the Chancellor is in a good mood for this appointment. Maybe I'll cheer him up," he said with a slight chuckle, a sound like gravel cracking.

 

[Jack Sparrow]

"Never heard of him, love," said Jack as the receptionist entered his office.

"You have, Chancellor," replied the officious-looking woman with her hair pulled into a tight bun. "[member="Nick Sept"]. The clone, sir."

"Ah," replied Jack, brightening. "Nick Sept. I thought you said, 'Give me a moment to place my clothes in the corner and I'll be on you in a flash.'"

The woman scowled. "You do know you're the reason I've begun carrying a holdout blaster, don't you, Chancellor?"

"Always happy to give someone's life purpose, Miss Laganside."

"Shall I show Mr. Sept in now, sir?"

"Who?"

"Nick Sept, sir."

"Oh him. Yes, yes, by all means. But you'll need to forget the whole 'clothes in the corner' thing, love. Politics is propriety, you know."

 

[Nick Sept]

[member="Jack Sparrow"]





The clone turned soldier turned senator stood as the receptionist entered the entryway. "Mr. Sparrow will see you now, Senator."


"Please, just call me Sept," he said with a smirk. "Never was much for formalities."



The door opened, Nick was all smiles, despite his better judgement, as he sat down a rather large bag next to a chair, and then extended a hand cheerily. "Chancellor, it's grand to see you! I brought liquor for both of us, and cigars for me," he said with a chuckle.




He looked at the room with a smirk. "After all, there is no reason to maintain sobriety in the face of such difficult times," he said as he sat down a retrieved a bottle from his bag. Cartesian Plum wine, strong and still sugary. "It's aged with swamp cane in a manner not unlike certain rums, but the additives include native swamp grasses and plums. Sort of a native rite back home," he wsaid with a weak laugh, the cheer fading for a slightly more somber tone.



"So, tell me, Chancellor, how's the office treating you? Your staff seems nice, if a bit tense," he said, his brow shifting slightly around dull red photoreceptors. The cyborg waited for a response. After all, patience was part of a decent delivery, and a lot of this might not be considered good news.

 

[Jack Sparrow]

Jack reached into a lower drawer in his desk, retrieved two short, square glasses or cut blue crystal, and placed them on the desk in front of [member="Nick Sept"].

"Good to see you as well, Mr. Sept, especially as you come bearing gifts!" Jack waited for the man to pour, steepling his fingers as he propped his elbows on the desk of office and leaned forward.

"The office is treating me exactly as well as can be expected," he said with a smirk. "Planets leaving, invasions, reclamations, threats, promises, smug people in and out of the Republic predicting our demise, threats against my life; in short, it's quite like piracy, but with more ships and wordy bits and less swordplay and bounty.

"As to the staff, tense they may be, but I think it's because they still don't have much faith in me." Jack smiled. "My reputation carries a certain weight, I've come to realize, and regardless of my accomplishments, there are those who are simply waiting for the inevitable slip. I fear I've rather...unbalanced things." Jack leaned forward conspiratorially. "No one seems to be able to determine if I'm a savior, a liar, a lunatic, or a genius." He shrugged and leaned back once again, his face a mask of passivity. "Now. To what do I owe this most welcome visit?"

 

[Nick Sept]

[member="Jack Sparrow"]


Nick uncorked the bottle and poured both glasses with a nod. "I have found that no man is eager to shoot a messenger bringing donuts or liquor, and this is slightly less likely to help me gain weight," he said with a smirk. "Besides, of the replacement organs, the Pancreas is definitely the most temperamental," the cyborg chuckled as he picked up a glass and raised it. "To the republic, and to Cartao," he said with a nod.



He watched the animated speak, the strangest mix of frank and flowery possible. If Nick could be described as folksy and blue-collar, then one could likely use the words fanciful and socially fluid to describe the Chancellor. Although, most folks had words less nice for both of them, at least in the editorial pages.




"Rather good that the threats are similar, keeps your skills of assessment in line," he said with a chuckle. "Honestly, I'm quite alright knowing folks want to kill me. Comforting to know that my ability to duck for cover and return fire is still competitive in the modern market," he said, although whether or not he was joking or being serious was debatable as he sipped at his drink slowly.



He raised and eyebrow at what was the most loaded statement he had heard. As if any of that was mutually exclusive. Liars could save. Lunatics could lead. And frankly, a good genius knew when to lie, when to save, and when to go mad. One could argue Sparrow's bravado was one more layer to obfuscate others, but that was a lie. The Chancellor's personality wasn't a convenient forgery so much as a truly bizarre reality, for which others were often not fully prepared. Of course, the only way to break through someone so entirely confusing was ignore it, and go on as though it was not crucial.



"Honestly, Jack, figuring you out seems like an odd use of energy. It'd be shrewder to figure out how to put whatever is going on your head to use, regardless of what it is. Hence warming you up with wine. That," the clone said dryly, "is likely more strategic than I've been in weeks," the cloned said with a nod. "But, I suppose I should address the point. Frankly, I'm very worried, Chancellor. For Cartao."



He pulled out a holomap, including some basic strategic data. "After Togoria, we've lost the ability to field Republic assets safely. Cartao, Carida, and several other worlds, cut off by the One Sith's presence," he said flatly. "I'm a senator who swore to protect that planet, and now I can't. That puts me in an awful position," the clone said flatly. "Now, I'm not in military command, and I won't pretend I have any rank to pull here. I don't. And as someone who campaigned on transparency, and avoiding repeating the failings of Lasedri and others," he said with a curt nod, "I can't exactly go pushing military command around. It'd go against what I stand for. So," he said calmly, "I'm curious. What would you do in my position?"



It was a hell of a question. Sept had already had a few ideas, but he wanted to hear the thoughts of another man who knew how to fight, and lead, and act like a criminal, and act like a senator. Hell, maybe he just wanted vindication. Still, he felt this conversation might turn ugly. "Take a minute and enjoy the drink before you answer. Time's the one resource I'm certain to have," he said with a nod, red replacement eyes gleaming in the office's lights.