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[Legacy Of The Force] - 05(30)

By:Sacrifice (Karen Traviss)






chapter four


To: Chief of Defense Logistics


From: Supreme Commander, Galactic Alliance Defense Force

CC: Chief of State; OC GAG; Head of Defense Procurement

Re: Fleet supply and procurement concerns

The shortfall in supplies in theater and the failure of equipment to meet standards are intolerable. You are to give Colonel Solo, OC GAG, every cooperation in resolving this situation as rapidly as possible. This is to be your top priority, and Colonel Solo is authorized to use any means necessary to achieve it.

Admiral Cha Niathal, SC GADF

DEFENSE PROCUREMENT AND SUPPLY AGENCY, CORUSCANT

“Are you sure?” Jacen had no reason to disbelieve a legal-analyst droid. Metal lawyers were even more meticulous than flesh-and-blood ones. HM-3 clunked along beside him as they ambled up the apparently interminable corridor to the offices of the head of procurement, explaining the hurriedly assembled data as they went. Jacen believed in understanding the enemy, and that meant grinding through the tedium of small print. He was set on taking a lightsaber to a planet-sized ball of red tape.

“Yes, sir, this is routine.” HM-3 reminded him a little of C-3PO—humanoid in shape, with a necessarily pedantic personality—but he was a sober dark gray and had a reassuring air of solid professional authority. “A piece of legislation that’s overdue for reform. Would you like the full explanation, or a simplified lay-being’s version?”

“Consider me as lay as they come.”

“As the legislation stands, it takes the agreement of the Defense Council to change the regulations on procurement. It’s designed to stop civil servants from bending the rules to line their pockets. Or to stop anyone from commissioning an entire army and its accompanying fleet and weapons without the Senate’s knowledge, which I do believe happened not so long ago … you might want to look back at the final years of the Republic, sir.”

Jacen mulled that over and tried to strip it down to basics. “So Senators have to vote on what flimsi to purchase and what flavor dry rations to serve to the troops. Monumental waste of time and expense, if you ask me.”

“I admit it involves top-level decision makers in very low-level decisions, sir. But it’s the law. Every time you want to change something about supplies, or any other minor administrative issue, you need Chief Omas or Admiral Niathal or someone else equally senior to rubber-stamp it. It’s the same for other departments—health, education, all of them.”

HM-3 seemed apologetic. Jacen had little patience with people who found comfort in impenetrable rules and ritual: He wanted things done.

“I don’t want to take every complaint about hydrospanners and fuel inductors through committees.” How did I ever become the procurement go-to guy? Is Niathal sidelining me? Never mind. I’ll learn a lot. “Is there a way around this?”

“Actually, there is.”

“Go on.”

“It’s a simple matter of giving appropriate officers of the GA—in the most general sense—the power to change regulations. To remove the requirement for every cough and spit to be dealt with by Senators.”

“How do we do that?”

“By removing the requirement for approval by Defense Council members. Shall I draft an amendment, sir?”

“How does that work?”

“I draft a request for a change in the existing law to relieve regulatory burdens, so that order-making powers can be devolved to appropriate persons such as senior military officers and ministers of state without the need to refer the issue to committees, councils, or even the full Senate.” HM-3 shuddered. It was a very human touch. “Give them something to debate, and the more trivial it is, the more hours they’ll spend on it, because they can grasp the small concepts better, you see.”

“Yes, but what happens to the amendment? And how long is that going to take?”

“If I table it today, then it goes before the weekly Policy and Resources Council in two days’ time, and, as an appropriate person who already has the Chief of State’s sanction, you can start changing what you need the next day.”

Jacen clasped his hands behind his back and thought about it. This was making a new law to allow him to change laws.

Bizarre.

“I wonder how much the Defense Department spends on carpeting,” HM-3 said peevishly, scanning the floor. Droids preferred smooth surfaces. “Here’s one area where they could economize.”

As he walked, Jacen was calculating how many simple decisions were mired in approvals, but he had the sensation of someone trying to get his attention. It was wholly in his head: he wondered if it was the voice again, and then realized it was his common sense screaming to be heard.