FIC: B is for Bureaucracy (aka "Pournelle's Iron Law")
B is for Bureaucracy (aka "Pournelle's Iron Law")
[notes]: SG-1. Gen. Post-series. G. ~700 words. Posted 02/18/2013.
[summary]: bu·reauc·ra·cy n. pl. bu·reauc·ra·cies 3. An administrative system in which the need or inclination to follow rigid or complex procedures impedes effective action
[author note]: For Genfic Day Allies Alphabet Soup
Pournelle's Iron Law of Bureaucracy states that in any bureaucratic organization there will be two kinds of people: those who work to further the actual goals of the organization, and those who work for the organization itself.
Ja'tal often does not understand his Jaffa brothers. He is young enough that he has never carried a prim'ta, has never carried a staff weapon in anything but defense of his brothers and their allies, has never knelt in awe or fear of a god.
But most of all he does not understand why his elder brethren cannot be bothered organizing things properly. It is not as if Jaffa do not possess great or efficient minds: the oral sagas are always rich and detailed, and remembered perfectly. Battle plans and strategies are handed down for generations. Most free Jaffa are more than proficient at using the Goa'uld computers scavenged from ha'taks and the occasional al'kesh and repurposed to maintaining information and organizing communications.
But when it comes to the everyday mundanities, tasks and details of a rebellion, everyone single person has their own opinion, their own way of doing things, and it is slowly driving Ja'tal to madness.
He stomps through the chappa'ai and right into Master Bra'tac. Stumbling back from the collision, he lands with a humiliating thud on his backside. Ja'tal sucks in a breath, more at the sympathetic smile on Bra'tac's face than at the sting of impact. He has seventeen summers! He will not cry like a baby.
"Hold up, young son!" Bra'tac offers a hand, and snuffling back his anger and embarrassment, Ja'tal takes it, letting the old man pull him to his feet. "You look fit to start a storm, Ja'tal. What has happened to bring you back in this state?"
Ja'tal surreptitiously brushes the dirt from the seat of his pants and pulls himself straight and tall. "It is nothing, Master Bra'tac. My apologies for my inattention."
But his attempt to school his feelings apparently falls as awkwardly flat as he did, and Bra'tac sighs. "What has Dalna'k done this time?"
"He has released me from my duties, and wishes Master Teal'c to send him a more 'suitable replacement'."
Bra'tac tugs him away from the steps of the chappa'ai platform. "Suitable as in 'pliable,' you mean?"
"I only thought to improve our processes for requests of travel rations and weapons!" The words are out before he even has fully formed his reaction to Bra'tac's question, and he cannot dam the torrent that follows. "We often run low on stores because Dalna'k keeps all the requests in his head, and never tells the quartermaster what to expect. I programmed a crystal to establish and track an inventory of our needs and supplies. It would also integrate all requisitions and produce a weekly or even daily report that Kanek could give to Dalna'k, if he so desperately needs to be aware of everything all the time, but he took the crystal and smashed it underneath his boot and chastised me for stepping above myself."
No censure from Bra'tac for his impertinence banishes the last of his desire to take his disgrace with dignity. "Dalna'k doesn't even need to be involved, shouldn't be involved most of the time. Kanek should be the one to take these requests as Dalna'k holds him responsible for procuring and dispensing such supplies. But how can he fulfill his assigned tasks when he does not know, and Dalna'k will not tell him. Instead Dalna'k berates him for his failures! In front of everyone!
"It makes no sense! It is not efficient." Ja'tal slams the butt of his staff weapon upon the ground.
"It is stupid."
"And you told Dalna'k this?"
The fire of his indignation spent now spent, Ja'tal bows his head and mutters, "I may have implied that I found his leadership would benefit from... improvements."
Bra'tac's low chuckle is warm with understanding. "Come, let us drown your sorrows in a bit of spirits, and find a better fit for your skills and passion."
"But what of Dalna'k?" He hates how peevish his question comes out. He is Jaffa. He will not be bowed by some old bully who scratches his ass constantly and grunts like a boar about his glory days.
"I will bring this to Teal'c's attention, but Dalna'k has his uses." Bra'tac gripped his shoulder. "Welcome to the revolution, my boy."
[notes]: SG-1. Gen. Post-series. G. ~700 words. Posted 02/18/2013.
[summary]: bu·reauc·ra·cy n. pl. bu·reauc·ra·cies 3. An administrative system in which the need or inclination to follow rigid or complex procedures impedes effective action
[author note]: For Genfic Day Allies Alphabet Soup
Pournelle's Iron Law of Bureaucracy states that in any bureaucratic organization there will be two kinds of people: those who work to further the actual goals of the organization, and those who work for the organization itself.
Ja'tal often does not understand his Jaffa brothers. He is young enough that he has never carried a prim'ta, has never carried a staff weapon in anything but defense of his brothers and their allies, has never knelt in awe or fear of a god.
But most of all he does not understand why his elder brethren cannot be bothered organizing things properly. It is not as if Jaffa do not possess great or efficient minds: the oral sagas are always rich and detailed, and remembered perfectly. Battle plans and strategies are handed down for generations. Most free Jaffa are more than proficient at using the Goa'uld computers scavenged from ha'taks and the occasional al'kesh and repurposed to maintaining information and organizing communications.
But when it comes to the everyday mundanities, tasks and details of a rebellion, everyone single person has their own opinion, their own way of doing things, and it is slowly driving Ja'tal to madness.
He stomps through the chappa'ai and right into Master Bra'tac. Stumbling back from the collision, he lands with a humiliating thud on his backside. Ja'tal sucks in a breath, more at the sympathetic smile on Bra'tac's face than at the sting of impact. He has seventeen summers! He will not cry like a baby.
"Hold up, young son!" Bra'tac offers a hand, and snuffling back his anger and embarrassment, Ja'tal takes it, letting the old man pull him to his feet. "You look fit to start a storm, Ja'tal. What has happened to bring you back in this state?"
Ja'tal surreptitiously brushes the dirt from the seat of his pants and pulls himself straight and tall. "It is nothing, Master Bra'tac. My apologies for my inattention."
But his attempt to school his feelings apparently falls as awkwardly flat as he did, and Bra'tac sighs. "What has Dalna'k done this time?"
"He has released me from my duties, and wishes Master Teal'c to send him a more 'suitable replacement'."
Bra'tac tugs him away from the steps of the chappa'ai platform. "Suitable as in 'pliable,' you mean?"
"I only thought to improve our processes for requests of travel rations and weapons!" The words are out before he even has fully formed his reaction to Bra'tac's question, and he cannot dam the torrent that follows. "We often run low on stores because Dalna'k keeps all the requests in his head, and never tells the quartermaster what to expect. I programmed a crystal to establish and track an inventory of our needs and supplies. It would also integrate all requisitions and produce a weekly or even daily report that Kanek could give to Dalna'k, if he so desperately needs to be aware of everything all the time, but he took the crystal and smashed it underneath his boot and chastised me for stepping above myself."
No censure from Bra'tac for his impertinence banishes the last of his desire to take his disgrace with dignity. "Dalna'k doesn't even need to be involved, shouldn't be involved most of the time. Kanek should be the one to take these requests as Dalna'k holds him responsible for procuring and dispensing such supplies. But how can he fulfill his assigned tasks when he does not know, and Dalna'k will not tell him. Instead Dalna'k berates him for his failures! In front of everyone!
"It makes no sense! It is not efficient." Ja'tal slams the butt of his staff weapon upon the ground.
"It is stupid."
"And you told Dalna'k this?"
The fire of his indignation spent now spent, Ja'tal bows his head and mutters, "I may have implied that I found his leadership would benefit from... improvements."
Bra'tac's low chuckle is warm with understanding. "Come, let us drown your sorrows in a bit of spirits, and find a better fit for your skills and passion."
"But what of Dalna'k?" He hates how peevish his question comes out. He is Jaffa. He will not be bowed by some old bully who scratches his ass constantly and grunts like a boar about his glory days.
"I will bring this to Teal'c's attention, but Dalna'k has his uses." Bra'tac gripped his shoulder. "Welcome to the revolution, my boy."