[]Plan Abnormally Normal Man
-[]Name: Searthra Airgead
-[]Commander of the 58th Armored Corps
-[]Left Wing (+1)
-[]Baseline (+0)
-[]Well Adjusted (+0)
-[]Technical Education (Material Engineering) (-1)
-[]Exceptional Commander (-3)
-[]Educationally Incompetent (+1)
[]Plan (Not) A Failgirl
-[]Name: Sadhbh Rath na Neamh
-[]Commander of Orbital Defense Forces
-[]Accelerationist (+0)
-[]Baseline (+0)
-[]War Orphan (+1)
-[]Technical Education (Process Engineering) (-1)
-[]Well Known Military Scientist (-3)
-[]Bunker Officer (+1)
[]Plan Paperwork Supreme
-[]Name: Suarach Brúitíngharrán
-[]Commander of Ground to Orbit Fire
-[]Conventional Military (-2)
-[]Baseline (+0)
-[]Ex-Business (+0)
-[]Politically Promoted (-1)
-[]Incorruptible (-2)
-[]Politically Committed (+2)
-[]Bunker Officer (+1)
Searthra Airgead:
"Come in, come in! Dinner is almost ready, you came just in time."
"Big brother! Big brother, carry me!"
Searthra couldn't help himself and laughed heartily as he fended off his little sister with one hand, attempting to discard the heavy raincoat which had defended him from the vicious rains outside.
"In a moment, little one."
"I'm not little!" she harrumphed, turning away as she did.
"We'll see about that," Searthra declared as he picked up his little sister by the armpits and foisted her on his shoulders, to heer shrieking delight.
"Oomph, maybe you aren't so little after all! Soon enough you'll be too heavy to carry. What are you again, six?"
"Four! Four!", she laughed.
"Come now, while the food is still hot," his mother intervened, cruelly cutting playtime short even as she watched them with kind eyes.
"Aye aye, Ma'am." "Yes mama!"
No attempts were made to resist the matriarch of the house, and soon enough all three of them were digging into their meal. Real fish even, to Searthra's amazement, as when he'd been young such things had been a luxury to be saved for important occasions.
Unfortunately, this distraction left him open to what should've been an obvious ambush.
"...so, when are you going to start dating again?"
Searthra placed his cutlery on the table with a sigh.
"Mother, please-"
"My son, it's been over five years since She dumped you, I think it's about time you-"
"She didn't dump me, mother, we agreed to break up given the circumstances-"
"I'd say this is what you get for not marrying her when you had the chance, but if she was going to be that weak-hearted-"
"Mother."
An indignant sniff, and the matter was thankfully dropped. Searthra eyed his little sister, and to his chagrin he noticed how she was now poking listlessly at her food.
"I've been focusing on my career," he offered an olive branch, hoping to dispel the mood that had fallen over the table.
"Speaking of your career," his mother jumped on the topic with more vigor than he'd expected. "Is it true that He is retiring?"
"Mother, you know I can't say much-"
"Oh please, it's all over the news. Give me something to work with, you know I'm not going to spread it around."
Searthra let out a sigh, tapping his fingers on the table, trying to pick his words with care.
"I've been talking to Ríchathaoir, a little."
His mother's eyes lit up with pride and interest.
"And…?"
"And my credentials are good, but I'm still young and inexperienced."
Searthra shrugged, hoping to deflate his mother's hopes just a little.
"I see, however-"
"I'm not hungry anymore!"
Searthra flinched a little as his mother's eyes went flinty.
"You WILL eat up, young lady, or I swear to the spirits-"
"Mother, please," Searthra hastily got up, striding towards her with long, measured steps. Her eyes locked on to him, so horribly cold, and she sat silently as he closed the distance. He wasted no time throwing his arms around her in a fierce hug, and after a moment he felt the tension in her seep out, like poison from a wound, and she returned it.
"You know- you know how important it is-"
"I know, but this isn't how you should do it. We've talked about this."
"But-"
"Shhh, it's alright."
They hugged for a couple seconds more in silence, before he let go and turned towards the other person who needed his help right now. His sister was looking at him with a blank face, which made Searthra's heart hurt.
"Hey, if you eat up we can go down to the store and buy some ice-cream, deal?"
A wide grin split her face without a moment of hesitation, and suddenly all was right with the world again.
"Deal!"
…
Sadhbh Rath na Neamh:
A splash of cold water chased away the fatigue, and fierce, angry eyes greeted Sadhbh in the mirror. Good, she'd need that fierceness, every day but especially today. For today she'd seize the initiative once again, damn the odds, for she could see the opportunity for what it was.
The old man was retiring.
It was surprising that so many had been surprised by this. Sure, from an outsider's perspective it might've looked like Ríchathaoir would rule the ministry of defense forever. A political monolith, a constant of the system. Unassailable.
They'd missed the forest for the trees. There was one simple fact that so many had seemed to miss; Ríchathaoir did not want the position. As far as she could tell he'd never desired it. It was a small miracle he'd kept at it for so long. The idea of leaving a job, any job for that matter unfinished must have been antithetical to that old workhorse.
But the time had finally come where he's feeling comfortable enough to step down, and Sadhbh was not letting the opportunity go to waste.
After all, he owed her.
Given scraps and far too little time to prepare, she'd managed to whip the orbital defense forces into something approaching decent shape. Facing insurmountable odds, her forces had fought an effective delaying action all the way to the shores of Curach. Given the slimmest of openings, she'd almost managed to end the war in one fell swoop. All four frigates, tagged with about ten bomb pumped lasers each, all within effective range. They'd had to flee with their tails between their slimy legs, never fully recovering from the damage she'd inflicted upon them.
And what had she gained in return?
Whispers behind her back, accusations of cowardice, declarations that she was a failure. All because she'd lacked the good graces to die with her troops. The fact that she'd managed to match the enemy blow for blow, in a battlespace they dominated completely? Irrelevant.
It was all so infuriating. It would have been demoralizing too, if she'd let them gaslight her into believing she was a failure. That she somehow could have done more. That she deserved to die, like so many others had.
But she knew better, and so did Ríchathaoir. She was a good fit for the position, she had the diversity of experience, the accolades, the whole package. And with her connections to the current coalition, she would have enough time to find her footing and secure her position. All she needed to do was to convince the old man of these truths.
He owed her, and she was going to remind him of that fact.
…
Suarach Brúitíngharrán:
Suarach ran a tight ship. It was a well known fact; her command post was best described by the words 'organized chaos', in a good way. Phones were ringing, reports were being written, paperwork was being filed. An orchestra of effective staffwork, with the conductor sitting in the middle, ensuring that the song went on without nary a misstep.
"Ma'am, it's Liam, from the BFP! He's claiming he needs to speak to you about the funding situation!"
How interesting, it seems that the WP and PPM are digging their heels in over the extra funding requested by Ríchathaoir. Surely a mistake, given the current situation. The BFP claimed they would ensure the funding would pass parliament, seeking to assure that the whole opposition was behind the Ministry of Defense on the matter. Suarach promised to inform Ríchathaoir of this; it was no imposition after all. Rather a boon, if she was honest to herself.
Another mark in her favor, as the Minister of Defense was seeking a successor.
She had the credentials, and she knew it. The job was procurement first, politics second, and wartime command third. Sure, maybe her direct combat command was limited; it was still decorated, with a CLP troop transporter sunk and over a hundred VTOLs downed. Her work on modernizing the anti-orbital laser defenses? That had been a war-winning stunt, and everyone knows it. No single event could have been said to shape the war as much as the anti-orbital lasers did.
And, even more importantly perhaps, she knew how wars were won:
By the correct equipment being available in large enough numbers within a reasonable timeframe.
The Seelie Democratic Authority did not have the correct equipment available in any real numbers, and this would need to be fixed within a reasonable timeframe.
Suarach knows she could do this; the extra funding would resolve any budgetary issues and allow for more aggressive procurement, and despite the bellyaching from the current government they would inevitably have to cave. The only thing that would be left is the organizational work to ensure the rapid and efficient conversion from funding into a viable product.
"Ma'am, it's the Minister! He's asking for a status report on the Planetary Defense Modernization program!"
Ah, excellent timing. Especially since she only had good news on that front. And while she was at it, she could also deliver the message from the BFP. And start floating the idea of her as his replacement.
She was the best fit for the job, after all.