Smokestacks

By author StrenousActivity

Irene shook her head. "That really isn't what I meant." She was waving a dataslate holding the new set of entrenching regulations her sister had put in place.

"What do you mean? I thought you liked corporate power, Emperor knows the Rogues fellate you day and night over it," Reina drawled.

"I like corporate power because it's flexible, its hold ebbs and flows with what its specialisation needs," Irene set the dataslate down and headed over to the balcony, "but when you force the rigidity of central administrative policy onto that, then that's when you get problems."

"They need to know who they're working for." Reina shrugged.

"They work for themselves. All corporations work for themselves. It's why one of my first laws was to ban lobbying so they couldn't use the greatest source of power around to enrich themselves."

"Lobbying?" Reina snorted. "Your holdings are a democracy?"

"Not all of them, some of them. I don't like democracies either." Irene leaned over and took a nice long look at the industrial hellscape outside Reina's fortress.

"So how do you know your decrees benefit anyone if nobody's asking?"

"How do you know yours are doing the same?"

"Good point. But circling back around to what started all this, why not give our cronies a little ball and chain?"

"Because our cronies eat each other, and a ball and chain would stop some of them from doing that, leaving the strongest to gorge themselves with impunity."

"That's the whole point isn't it? The strongest mutt deserves all the meat, or are you suddenly feeling a twinge of sympathy in your profit-obsessed heart?"

As with all her other siblings who used such banter, Irene ignored the barbs sent her way.

"The strongest mutt also becomes the fattest mutt and will soon fall out of favour, these corporations competing against each other makes them too busy to consolidate, then collude because they're too scared of being undercut, and too busy with their own operations to be threats to anyone's power but their own."

"You really had this whole explanation planned out to justify yourself not wanting to bother regulating them."

"Yes."

The two sat in silence, watching the distant smokestacks of Ravenstahl cough more filth into the once pristine sky.

"You know, Irene, we've spent all this time discussing our economies but you haven't once talked about my methods."

"What about them?"

"Some of your daughters gave me a side eye, some were complaining in earshot. I'd think their reaction to me would reflect on you."

"Indeed, but I prefer not to talk about that if it means the two of us only stay terse and civil."

"You're quite close with Cyrus aren't you?" Reina paused until she saw Irene nod. "I heard he's the nicest one of our litter."

The Twelfth Primarch smiled. "He is."

"Well, he seemed a little angry with me when I first met him."

Irene frowned. "Cyrus doesn't get angry. At the very worst, he was disappointed in you."

Reina scoffed. "Is this going to be a theme? Just how many of our siblings are going to turn out to be benevolent philosopher-kings and glorious revolutionaries?"

"Enough."

"Oh Emperor," Reina Vont groaned, "sounds like I'm not going to garner a lot of friends in the Cheery Humanist circles."

"I doubt it, but I'd be more than happy to be your friend if you'd have me." Irene grinned with her hands outstretched.

"Heh, sure." Reina ignored the hug, instead opting to clasp Irene on the shoulder. "Cyrus was right. Living in the void really did make you lonely."