Private Two hands

[Adron Malvern]

John Locke ~ Naboo ~ New Exarch's Office
​

Thirty-seven hours, Forty-three minutes, and fifty-two seconds. As the Exarch glanced up at the clock that was the approximate time that came to his mind. The transfer of government from Geonosis to Naboo was not a matter that could be lightly undertaken. It was a logistical nightmare that required hours and hours of paperwork and oversight. The two tasked with the most direct attachment to the government's relocation? Adron and John had undertaken the assignment from the Vicelord while he and Srina Talon saw to the more physical aspect of the transfer.

The first day had been spent sorting out the living quarters, office space, and routine of the Office of the Vicelord. No government would be effective if it's very soul was in tatters. Following that, the two Exarch's had locked themselves away to see to the mountain of paperwork that remained. Adron's eyes turned from one page to another, lightly imprinting his signature upon the necessary papers before moving on to the next. "Requisition...requisition...requisition...req- It's as if the entire eastern front has suddenly realized they're in need of fuel or - is this a requisition for paper clips?" The Exarch glanced up at John before his mouth held open for a moment. "I'm more than sure we're not a General Store." He muttered, before crossing off the paper and tossing it onto a nearby stack. "The requisition system is designed to identify the needs of a planet and see if it can be filled by the greater Viceroyalty, yet somehow Viceroy's are still using it for things I can best class as incidentals."

The Exarch removed the glasses from his face, exhaling before standing from the desk he'd sat at. "Drink?" He offered John before turning back to the bar cart he'd specifically had input into the office. With an even stride he found himself pouring a glass of whiskey into a glass of crystal. If his fellow Exarch required a drink as well he would see to that. "The Agents of Chaos." He muttered, pouring the drink with an all too bored expression in his eyes. "A terrorist organization strikes close to home and suddenly every Viceroy in the Confederacy is asking for an aggrieved status." Making his way back to the desk, he sat down in his chair with a sigh of relief. "How did we allow it to come to this?" He mused, before sipping a bit of his drink, relishing the warm flow of liquor down his gullet.

The Exarch glanced about his desk for a moment before his eyes stumbled over a piece of paper tucked under the mass. "Ah. Not to mention this." He took the paper and passed it over to John. "A report from Rodia. Seems one of the CDF's contractor's bombed one of their own units. Killed a few men. So while these dissidents and anarchy-seekers are assaulting us, we are bombing ourselves." He set the glass of crystal back onto the desk before his amethyst eyes turned back to a piece of paper leading the stack. "We're surrounded by madness. Madness and stupidity."

 

[John Locke]

It was a little-acknowledged fact that the universe really ran on paperwork, any government, company or even army was beholden to the logistics that underpinned it's every action and movement. A King, an Emperor, a Vicelord could command anything that they wanted, but the universe didn't rewrite itself according to their will. It took those working behind the scenes to make that happen, the administrators and the bureaucrats to make that happen.; John had often thought that if he'd been born in the past, during one of those storied kingdoms he'd read about as a child that he'd have made a good bureaucrat. Not that he wasn't already, it was funny but ever since his promotion to Exarch he'd found himself ensconced in the paperwork of running a government, and had loved every minute of it.

To look at the dark-haired man you couldn't tell that he was in fact working, settled on his chair as he was, arms resting on the table in front of him he almost looked like someone slumbering, someone just passing the time if not for the twitching of his fingers. That was until you looked at his eyes, the glowing turquoise of the cybernetic eyes, to look through them would be to see a completely different world. Screen after screen of data scrolled across his vision, the slight twitches of his fingers assigning them a purpose. Stored, sent for review or passed on to the appropriate office to be actioned. Connected as he was to the networks of the office he had a wealth of data, of capability at his fingertips, and the man used every byte of it. It was that attention to detail that had made him so successful, but there were times he questioned if he really needed to know every single order of paperclips made by the office of avian protection.

A soft breathe escaped the man as he rolled his shoulders, the artificial light fading from his eyes as he let his head shift back and forth, his gaze coming to rest on his fellow Exarch.

"You know what, I can't think of any reason why I shouldn't. Whiskey, no ice."

The cyborg levered himself to his feet, accepting the class with a grateful nod as he made his way over to the window, one shoulder leaning on the wall as he stared out over the city of Theed. The decision to move capital hadn't been an easy one to agree on, but the view available to them was a marked improvement. John allowed himself a moment of introspection as he took his first sip, feeling the heat of the whiskey burning down his throat before to turned back to Adron, offering the man a weary smile.

"Wait...this isn't a general store? That advert in the window clearly said I was going to be working as a cashier in a store. Someone's been lying to me all this time."

For a moment a light danced in the man's dark eyes before he shrugged, gesturing in the direction of the building that had been taken overby the Viceroys.

"It's a game, no-one ever thought that we'd be hit so close to home and now they're panicking. They all want something to show to the people back home to prove they're not taking this lying down, that they're acting for the best interests of their people, no matter what they might have actually been doing all this time. They're pushing payment down the line, hoping that when we call we'll be constrained."

A metallic hand raked through his hair as he sighed, glancing down at the amber liquid in his hands.

"I understand that people are scared but if we rush things then that bombing on Rodia is gonna be the new normal. Rushing units out will only put people in peril, even droid units need to be tested. Only, they all want it right now, regardless of potential future damages it might cause."

The glass was hefted in the other man's direction.

"To Madness and Security."

Adron Malvern