Prime Minister's Office, Taris
The newly-elected Prime Minister sighed and brought a hand to his face to contain his mounting headache from all the paperwork he had to deal with from his first week in office alone.
The man had never been a politician or even considered himself a political figure within the myriad refugees that now called the planet of Taris home. What he had been was someone who wanted to keep his men alive-and the definition of "his men" had just kept on expanding as things had gotten worse. First it was just his crew, then it was everyone who had boarded his ship in the hopes of escaping the war, then it had been everyone from his homeworld who had managed to make it to Taris.
...There were far fewer of his people there than he had hoped.
When the elections for Prime Minister had rolled around after unprecedented changes to immigration and voting laws he had more or less been volunteered to be the representative for his group of refugees (though he didn't reject the nomination when it came around). Despite their small size in comparison they had quickly spread the good word about him, encouraging others to vote for him even with the odds of victory against him. While she had never officially entered the election, his de facto opponent was Ciaran herself, the woman who was responsible for the planet's rebirth and the chance for the people there to start over. Anyone else would have balked at running against her, and victory seemed like it would be nigh-impossible.
Still, against all odds...he won the election. A one-time freighter captain, now the leader of an entire world.
The galaxy was a strange place like that, wasn't it?
While there was some hostility in the moments after the election, the masses of Taris had grudgingly accepted his victory allowing him to get at least some peace and quiet afterwards...and the chance to not have to always wear the obnoxious hat that came with the office.
Sighing to himself, the Prime Minister quietly reached into a pocket and pulled out a battered holoprojector. Turning it on, he listlessly gazed at the image of himself alongside his deceased wife and daughter, reminiscing about the happier times they had before the dammed war had come to their planet.
Suddenly the sound of a tone signaling the arrival of a visitor, breaking him out of his reverie. Grumbling under his breath, he pocketed the projector, sighed, put the (excessive) hat back on, and simply said "Enter."
The door opened, and lo and behold it was none other than Ciaran herself. Internally the Prime Minister cursed; he was almost certain that this confrontation would have happened sooner or later, but he had hoped that given her apathy to the election it would have been much later.
"And to what do I owe the honor of your visit today, Lady Ciaran?" the Prime Minister said, managing to keep his voice neutral.
"I simply wanted to congratulate your appointment and introduce myself to you in person. You already know who I am, but you would be...?"
He wasn't born yesterday and knew damned well that she knew his name well before she got here. Still, he gave a stern nod. "I think the proper form of address now is Tarisian Prime Minister Suberoa Zinnerman. Now then..." His eyes narrowed. "Why are you really here?"
Ciaran chuckled to herself. "What, do you think I have ulterior motives for coming here?"
"You were expected to win the election despite the fact that you didn't participate in it and at the same time you've been heavily investing into the planet in recent months." Zinnerman leaned forward. "Now I'm no businessman, but I know that with all the credits running through the planet you have a lot riding on its stability," Zinnerman coldly said, his intense gaze never wavering.
For her part, Ciaran simply raised an eyebrow in response. "You're much sharper than I would have expected from a freighter captain."
"Call it intuition," Zinnerman flatly responded, "but you still haven't answered my question."
"Very well then," Ciaran said, her smile suddenly vanishing. "I came here because I wanted to know why you ran for office and what you plan on doing with it."
The newly-elected Prime Minister pinched his brow in response to that. "Is that all?"
Ciaran nodded.
"...Fine then. First, I didn't run so much as I was volunteered by my fellow refugees."
"The JanFathal group, correct? I've heard about how bad the devastation has been there."
Zinnerman gave a grim nod in response. "Second, what I want is..."
He was silent for a brief moment, closing his eyes in thought before reopening them again.
"What I want is for my people to be safe and for the galaxy to leave us well enough alone. Hopefully with that we can have the chance to enjoy our new lives here. We've seen enough of war for a lifetime."
Ciaran's expression hadn't changed. "Are you sure you aren't just speaking for yourself?"
It took every ounce of Zinnerman's willpower not to instinctively reach for the holoprojector in his pocket, instead clenching a fist. "Even if I was," he growled out, "that doesn't change the fact that my people and every refugee that has arrived on this planet feel the same." Glaring down the Miraluka he spoke again. "And on that note let me make something very clear," he said in an icily calm tone. "While I do respect what you've done for people like me, I am not going to just stand idly by and let you always have your way while I'm in office. If you want to make this planet safer for my people or anything like that then I won't argue with it. But if you try to bring the war to this planet I will do everything I can to stop you no matter what."
His speech had made its point to Ciaran...who was regarding him with curiosity more than anything else afterwards. "...I see. Thank you for your time then, Prime Minister. This has proven to be an enlightening meeting."
With that, she quickly turned and left, allowing Zinnerman to sink back into his chair and breathe out.
I'm going to hate this job, aren't I?
---------
Why did I have to be proven right?
A few days later, Zinnerman was in a call with Satine Kyrze over the matter of having Taris significantly increase its production of military equipment for CNS militias and patrol fleets. She had heard about the initiative that Zinnerman had proposed and within a few hours of its announcement she was speaking to him via holoprojector.
Sighing, the exasperated Prime Minister spoke. "Again, having military-grade equipment more available to members of the Council will not only make our space more secure but encourage threatened planets to join us."
"While I do understand the need for security, think about the message that sends to the rest of the galaxy. Building up military assets to the extent that you have proposed will only convince the rest of the galaxy that we are becoming more militant, especially right now of all times. We've worked so hard to tell people that we aren't becoming a new Mandalorian Empire after Jango's return, and as successful as we've been at that this initiative would certainly make it seem like we were lying about that."
"Miss Kyrze, I'd like to point out that given the chance both the Republic and Separatists would try and spread the war to our space, if only so they'd have more planets to fight over. Creating deterrents definitely isn't the ideal solution but it is the smartest one right now."
Satine frowned, but did not respond for a moment. "...There has to be a better way then. Surely we can provide that sense of security without making it seem as though we are starting a major military buildup."
After a moment of silence between the two, Zinnerman sighed again and folded his arms before speaking. "I can make sure that the equipment is only made for member worlds that need proper defenses. In the grand scheme of things we'd still produce a lot of materiel but not quite as much as we would have without that caveat. That's the best I can do."
Satine was silent for a moment before nodding grimly. "I understand, Prime Minister. Thank you for your time then."
The holoprojector shut down, letting Zinnerman lean back in his chair (after taking off the hat again, finally).
"This is going to a long term in office, isn't it?"
AN: Right then, I really wanted to have an interesting character take the role of Tarisian Prime Minister, so I brought in one Suberoa Zinnerman. The man was born around 55 BBY-ish on JanFathal, and led a relatively normal life as a freighter captain until the Clone Wars-you're not buying that for a second are you?
Okay, so for those of you not familiar with him to begin with I "borrowed" him from Gundam Unicorn when I realized that his personality makes him an excellent foil to both Ciaran and Satine alike, not to mention that it was super easy for me to jostle around his backstory a bit to fit the Star Wars verse. Well mostly those things, but I'll freely admit that I also wanted the chance to write him for myself, selfish bastard that I am.
...Look, if Teron could bring in the Silencer and Wesker I am perfectly within my rights to bring in characters from other franchises when I need to! I think. That's how it works, right?
Anyway, enjoy~