Gold, Hearts and Minds

By author StrenousActivity

"So what do you propose, Sister?"

"I have a few ideas, but first, what else have you got for me?"

Amihan's hand swept across the large cogitator table and more information flashed to life as holographic dataslates. Each one Irene took hold of and studied for a brief moment. The Primarchs' common trait of dominating intellect meant it only took a few minutes to be as fully informed as her more revolutionary sibling.

"An underground newspaper has some merit, but you mentioned that this specific kingdom has a very robust investigation bureau."

"I know. I've bypassed that somewhat by keeping them restrained to border worlds. We're importing them into areas of influence via smuggling."

Irene nodded.

"Have you thought of how you'll convince the elites?"

Amihan raised an eyebrow. "Why should I bother with them here? They're a cudgel of their regimes, enablers. When we're done liberating Cruwandyn, most of them will be dead."

Irene smiled and tried again. "Forgive me, when I mean 'elites', I mean intellectuals, young princelings, rich artists, celebrities, the like. I've found that those are almost always the most receptive to the offers I make."

To emphasize her point, Irene opened a dossier file of influential individuals unique to the Consulary of Cruwandyn.

"Yes, those are very useful, but I find myself focusing on the general populace first and foremost. The ones you've pointed out all seem to be reformists anyway." The Twenty-Third Primarch frowned in thought, as if she was remembering something. "I have trouble with reformists. They turn out to be nationalists more often than I need them to."

Irene shrugged and put a hand on her sister's shoulder.

"Then you need to put heavy focus on them as well. If you've been in this for as long as I assume you have, then you know the power elites have in society, even the ones who don't rule."

Irene would know. She had had an experience with a planet in the grip of a mass famine wherein a few peer-reviewed studies from a renowned science group in favour of certain policies led to birth rates dropping in the negatives within a decade, erasing all the goodwill her own charities' endeavours into funding development in agriculture and food science would have given her, forcing Irene to take over the old-fashioned way.

She spared much less expense decoupling such technocratic nightmares from any kind of state power after that.

"I do. They just aren't as much of a concern to me the way converting the general populace is."

"And who else are the populace going to listen to but someone familiar to them, someone they admire? You said it yourself, nationalism is a very strong thing, so subverting the cultural, intellectual, and model source of that nationalism is important."

"I see… so how do we go about doing that here? I admit that, as much as I know now, it's still scratching the surface of how Cruwandyn works."

"I propose we open legitimate corporations near high poverty areas on the outskirts, since the only thing preventing them are high taxes. My Legion will provide the funding while your cells hire local men and women we can trust."

Amihan nodded, though her look turned rueful for a moment.

"I'm afraid that my Legion is much more splintered than your mere decentralisation. I can suggest, and most of the girls will have half a mind to listen, but I think some will go on with our standard modus operandi on many worlds and I can't control that."

"That's okay, as long as the unrest they cause doesn't reach the major centres of this specific operation, it will go through without much issue. But I do hope your unrulier ones don't make any mistakes and target our work directly."

Amihan shook her head.

"You don't need to worry, 'Rene. My Chainbreakers can be disparate at times, but that doesn't mean we're clueless."

"I know they won't be. I needed to make sure…" Irene paused for a moment, then beamed. "You just called me 'Rene."

"You look like the kind of woman who'd go by 'Rene around friends."

"My dad used to call me 'Rene."

Amihan hummed thoughtfully, taking a quick glance at the false viewport in Irene's solar, which held in focus the Consulary capital on its screen.

"Dad, huh, so not the Emperor?"

"No," Irene frowned when Amihan mentioned their gene-sire. "The man who raised me is Dad. The man who made me is Father."

"I get why you'd make that distinction," said the darker-haired woman. Their plotting had lost focus, dying away in favour of this sudden bout of familial companionship.

"Y'know, 'Rene, I only really asked for your help because I needed extra funding that your knowledge would make extra hard to track, but you've got much more to you than copper counting."

Irene shrugged.

"All of our brothers and sisters have something beyond what outward implications say we are. It's just that nobody bothers to look deep enough. You can't honestly say that I won the Marrus Sector with just bribes and bullets, can you? But I'll keep that part of me to myself, for now at least. Is that alright with you?"

Amihan chuckled. "Of course, I have no reason to dig."

"Then let's get back to what you brought me here for."