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Mira learned that press briefings are warfare conducted with worse questions and fewer helmets.
Mira Tovaan has been standing behind the Senate press podium for 53 minutes, which is 48 minutes longer than anyone should be required to discuss a procurement audit.
The chamber is packed with reporters, recording droids, political aides, and several beings who appear to have wandered inside because they saw a crowd and assumed someone important might be embarrassed.
They are not entirely wrong.
“The Office of Defense has already released the revised figures,” Mira says. “The new logistics standards reduced fleet supply losses by 19 percent and eliminated 37 duplicate contracts.”
A reporter from the Core Worlds Ledger raises his hand.
Mira points toward him.
“Speaker Tovaan, critics say the Chief of Defense is using wartime security concerns to expand clone control over civilian infrastructure. How do you respond?”
“The Chief of Defense is using wartime security concerns to control wartime security infrastructure.”
Several styluses move across datapads.
The reporter frowns. “That sounds evasive.”
“It sounded repetitive from here.”
Another hand rises.
“Is it true that Chief Fox personally rejected six Senate oversight requests this month?”
“No.”
The room shifts with sudden interest.
Mira waits until every camera focuses on her.
“He rejected nine.”
A few reporters laugh. Others begin shouting questions.
Mira takes a slow drink of water.
Fox refuses to watch the Holonet, which is probably the only reason he remains sane. He receives political summaries from Mira and Riyo, listens to the sections involving legislation or military consequences, and forgets everything else before the briefing ends.
Yesterday, Mira told him that three networks started calling him the Red Chancellor.
Fox looked up from a casualty report and asked whether that title came with the Chancellor’s budget.
When Mira said no, he returned to work.
A Twi’lek reporter near the front activates her microphone.
“Does Chief Fox intend to answer allegations that the Guard is concealing the true cost of the planetary militia program?”
“The full cost is listed in the public report.”
“The report is four hundred pages.”
“Yes.”
“The financial appendix alone is 90 pages.”
“Yes.”
“Do you expect ordinary citizens to read all of that?”
Mira tilts her head. “You’re a political reporter.”
The Twi’lek lowers her microphone.
A younger correspondent waves from the back row.
“Speaker Tovaan, several senators claim the Office of Defense has become hostile toward legitimate public scrutiny.”
“Public scrutiny is welcome.”
“Then why did your office deny Senator Motell’s request for unrestricted access to classified troop movements?”
“Because unrestricted access to classified information is usually called espionage.”
“What about the suggestion that senatorial committees should have advance approval over military redeployments?”
“The Confederacy has agreed to submit its invasions 90 days in advance, so we’re reviewing the proposal.”
A ripple of laughter passes through the chamber.
Mira keeps her expression professional.
Senators often mistake her age for inexperience. Reporters make the same error until the first follow-up question.
Another correspondent steps forward.
“Are there any plans to reduce the Chief of Defense’s emergency authority now that the Republic is gaining ground?”
“The war is still active.”
“But Separatist forces are retreating across several sectors.”
“They are retreating because the Chief is using that authority.”
“So there are no plans?”
“There are always plans.”
“What plans?”
“Classified ones.”
The reporter sighs. “Then what can the public expect from your office?”
“Continued defense reform, transparent nonclassified reporting, stronger protections for military personnel, and fewer contracts paying six companies to deliver the same crate of ration bars.”
“Can the public submit recommendations?”
Mira glances toward the side of the podium.
A waste container sits beneath the wall, overflowing with discarded briefing drafts, obsolete press passes, and one pamphlet accusing Fox of being a Mandalorian sleeper agent.
She points toward it.
“If you have any suggestions, feel free to put them in the suggestions box.”
The reporter follows her gesture.
“But that’s a trash can.”
Mira smiles.
“It sure is.”