Cambridge was cold at this time of year, the winter snow coating and saturating everything it touched, dead trees added an air of mystery to the parks and streets they lined. The University seemed slower, most staff and students preferring to remain at home by warm fires venturing out only for work that couldn't be avoided or to their local pubs which no winter, regardless of how cold, would be able to close.
Hans found himself in one of the student pubs that day, giving an impromptu lecture on History to the students who had gathered that day. Exams were over, but for those who cared enough, he was always willing to speak to them. As it happened, his lecture concluded on a rather sour note. And now it is time for me to leave, boys and Girls. You shan't see me next semester, I'm afraid I'm travelling on business. There was disappointment in the eyes of his listeners, but no one said anything. After a few more pints, Hans stumbled off towards the space port. While the staff were unhappy about letting a somewhat drunken Rheinland Prince into first class, they allowed it, on the condition he slept it off for the first few hours of the flight.
For the most part, the flight was uneventful and soon Prince Hans Fredrick Albrecht found himself back in his Native house, although Heisenberg Research Station was hardly 'Rheinland' proper, he found the thought of being surrounded by his fellow Rheinlanders oddly comforting. He kept an eye out for his mysterious contacts, careful to watch what he said has he made his modest room ready for any surprise guests.
Hanna was a bit tired when she was contacted. She was sent a message that Prince von Albrecht already arrived in Cologne. She slowly stood up. Walked slowly to the table and sat down. Hanna told her friend Kara that she would have to leave the Residenz. That she would need to travel to the nearby Cologne System and meet an important contact. The agency worked long for that meeting, which finally was organized now. As last act befor she left, Jürgen brought Hanna a cup of coffee to go.
After saying good bye to her friends, Hanna left the von Thielau Residence on Stuttgart and flew to the Heisenberg Station in the Cologne system. It was already late and she looked around for the Prince in the Bar, but she couldn't find him. Hanna knew she had to be careful. Since the incident with ALG declaring war on Bretonia, the SIS' agents were even more unwanted in Cologne that ever before. Hanna took a high risk travelling there, but she knew it was worth it.
Then, finally, Hanna found the room. It was a small room, which looked comftable and was nicely warm. She entered the room without making much noise. Hanna took off her sunglasses and her black coat. She sat down at the table and simled at Hans Fredrick. ''Hello Prince'', she said, ''nice to meet you finally. Now, we just have to wait for the Unioners to start, Then you will get all your desired answers.''
He looked at the pretty young woman through old and worn spectacles with a child like curiosity and a blank expression on his face, confusion and worry fighting against his inner wonder at why he was here. The official title is 'Royal Highness' but as I'm sure you know, I am not a prince, not in any legal capacity anyway so Mister Albrecht will be more than enough. He ushered her in and sat down Why have the Unioners requested me?
"You've hit upon the question, Sire."
A softspoken man had entered the hired room. Lean, and somewhere indeterminately in his thirties, he hardly looked like a Unioner. He wore indeterminate civillian clothes and had a demeanour that spoke of a practised, reassuring, psychopathy. He didn't look like a Unioner, no, but there was nobody else who could have had key access to the compartment.
He seated himself, and levelled his shoulders. "I speak for syndicates. Not all of the syndicates. We all speak for somebody today."
"Sehr geehrte Damen und Herren, Willkommen Arbeitsdirektor Frei zu unserem Rundentisch."
"There's a law enforcement adage here. Consider us to be the good cop, and the bad cop."
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He went with the modest, affable approach."I'm Frei." The scraggly old labour director had neatened himself up for the performance. Cupped in his hand was a glass full of Baden Riseling that would knock the moustache off a Duke with a still-full bottle and two empty, swinging brass-rimmed glasses in the other. The wine had been obtained scurrilously, as with most of the finer flavours of Unioner Life, in an ‘understanding’ with an OsC quartermaster aboard the Superliner Danube. It was a quintessentially Rheinlandic beverage - even parts luxurious and corrupt. The concepts were inseparable in the Republic.
He raised his hand and looked the old pretender square in the eyes. “They tell me you’re the future, Albrecht. The past, too.”
"I'm Corin Frei, elected direktor of the Syndicates. We might have changed our stripes since the last Albrecht sat in the Fensalia, but we are what we are. My brother to my left is Armin Jansen. He was the speaker during the Garen administration. I might be the direktorial controller but his views are as valid as mine."
“Does the past drink?” He set the bottle down upon the middle of the table. A first expression of trust.
I do he said reaching for the bottle But I'm afraid twenty years in Bretonia has left me with a lack of appreciation for Rheinland's drink, Scotch is my drink of choice he poured a glass of wine, swirled it in the glass before sipping it Clearly I have been cheated out of the finer things of life. He set the glass down and looked at the three arrivals, with warm eyes, not unlike that of a host who had welcomed three school friends over for a drink after not seeing them for many years. But now I ask, why am I here? The Secret Intelligence Service of Bretonia and two Unioners. I have come a long way on the promise that I would receive some answers, so if you please. Why am I here? what can I help you with?
Armin looked at the professor with cold, mute quizzical of a man observing birds. There was one glass short in front of Jansen - the unspoken understanding that the Unioner had no intention of drinking himself. He waited until the professor had swallowed before responding, in gentle calculation.
"This is a performance review, professor". He dropped the Albrecht, all pretension swept aside. "The Bretonians..." His eyes moved over to enigmatic woman in the corner "...Believe this is a job interview. It is not, yet."
"You say you have been cheated by life, professor. Yet you're a tenure lecturer at the most distinguished higher learning institution in Sirius. The Bretonians believe they are cheated because they are losing a war they never looked for, but found them. The Unioners are cheated as the state made us criminals when we refused to starve quietly. The same Rheinland that has cheated us, is cheated by an unaccountable rich. Who cheated you, professor?"
"We were all cheated when the empire fell. Even if none of us were alive. The horror of crime is that it lives through generations. The abused give birth to abusers. To be born poor is to die poor. To be uneducated is to not understand how to learn. I am lucky to received a tertiary education even with a criminal background. I am lucky to be in this room. Corin is cursed that a life of orchestrating heists has set him up to manage which cells receive the few rations that are not intercepted by Bounty Hunters. "
" I am the monarchist in the room. I am... doubtful of you. It was an Albrecht surrendered to the Gas Mining Guild, sold out the Unions that had been endorsed by previous Kaisers. It was an Albrecht who rescinded the Stuttgart farming subsidies."
"You were cheated by your great-great-great grandfather, Albrecht. As was I. As was every Rheinlander. The Union doesn't believe that children are responsible for the crimes of their parents, let alone three hundred years ago. Kaiser Albrecht proved that the throne needed a noble man. More than a nobleman. A noble... man."
"Yet you came to a meeting with what the news calls a terrorist organisation without fear. That is what gives me pause about you, Sir. The idea that you might be the future again."
"We're here to see if you see yourself in a future where you move to claim the throne. And if you do, why. Shall we begin?"
Albrecht gave a short, warm chuckle at the man's question. I don't feel cheated sir, only disappointed that Bretonia hasn't been graced by this exquisite wine you have provided.
His humour faded when Armin began speaking, the tone of the meeting changed and Albrecht suddenly realized that he was called to this meeting because of his bloodline, and quite possibly the Unioner's support for it. Hans was more than confused, he had not spent time in Rheinland for at least twenty years nor did he think that the Unioners would ever support a Monarch. You ask a great deal gentlemen, I do not believe I need to tell you how difficult this would be, even if I agreed. But I will not dismiss the idea out of hand, I am willing to listen and answer whatever questions you may have about me but, forgive me for asking, why is the Bretonian Intelligence here?
I am here, because without us, this meeting would never have happened. She took a small break and opened a bottle of Paulaner Bier. Mr. von Albrecht, our agency knows well about the past of your family and we saw the Rheinland becoming weaker and weaker because of this corrupt, federal government. We had the idea to help Rheinland to get its power of the old days back. Our director chose me for this mission, because he knew I have friends in Rheinland, conservatives, the von Thielaus, She looked at von Abrecht. maybe you have heared of them.
Now, we have found more supporters in Rheinland than the Unioners. You see, mr. von Albrecht, the citizens of Rheinland are not comftable with their government. She looked at Corin Frei. The Arbeitsdirektor was the first one who acted and asked for this meeting with you. She leaned back and looked around in the room. She knew that this meeting would change Rheinland's future. Mr. von Albrecht, Rheinland needs a strong leadership. It needs men like you, or like mr. Frei, man who take actions for their fatherland.
She paused and took her Bier. Now, mr. von Albrecht, now you know, why I am here.
"Bretonia didn't brief you." Corin stated, flat as a chisel. He watched Albrecht with a hardening respect. He'd come to the meeting without pre-knowledge as to why he'd been summoned, when any sane man would have hopped on the nearest shuttle to the Outer Crow Nebulae and tried to live the moment down. The man was astute. He must have had some inkling as to the portent of why the government of his expatriate state and syndicalist movement as old as colonisation and Croesus had him shipped over the Omega border - in a time of war.
Of course, Bretonia is desperate, and could be pulling every string it can reach. Creating a conspiracy just to turn us all over to the Rheinland Goverment would distract from their Omega expansion. Why not throw a few Unioners under the trade-lane when the trade is a few more days of the Battle of New London?
The Old Unioner chewed the idea over it. The opportunities outweighed the costs to himself. Even entrapment would buy the cause exposure.
"I'm setting a rule for this meeting, here. The word 'fatherland' goes out the airlock. Rheinland is a drunk, abusive parent. It's not a father. We're here to get our custody back."
He grimaces, the conviviality falling out of his scarred, garred face, sandblasted by solar radiation, chemical burns, and a hardened, unwilling life.
"Paternity. Rheinland is always been about divisions. It is what was exploited by a cabal of dead monopolists, who would fit in this room if you stacked them. Socialist, fiscal capitalist, conservative, populist, it is all just words. We are told that we cannot have the best ideals of any one side - we need to pick our small patch of earth and die over it and leave the mountain to our betters."
"The Empire, in the golden age, was a protected, planned capitalist economy with labour protections for all Rheinlandic citizens. Our corporations were wealthy, but were not corrupt. Our people were fed, clothed, and educated, with unmatched work ethic. We grew successful without growing soft. We were strong without being war mongers. The greatest accomplishments of the Empire were in the Quality of Life of its citizens, Manufacturing and infrastructure unmatched elsewhere, and in the Expeditions of our great explorers. We were defined by our contributions to humanity."
"Rheinland is wriddled with division. We are not here to create more. The Unions are here because we still believe in those centuries when the left and the right could debate in shared quorum, in public, without bombing one another."
Corin took a swig of the wine. He winced as he swallowed.
"We've all lived with it as a fact of life, as have five generations. The Republic is an abberation in time. The Empire lasted from Three AS to Six-Seventy-Two AS. Near seven centuries of stability, six hundred without war or internal strife. The Republic has been around for less than two hundred years and it has managed to abandon all of the Empire's progress in in a third of the time. It has subjected us to violence. It has nearly destroyed itself with alien subversion. It has turned our streets into the battleground for a repeat of the Sol war. It does not matter if you are a prince, or one of the many billions of Rheinlanders just struggling to live."
He slackened off. Sighing, Corin refilled his glass.
"We demand nothing. If you want the throne, and we believe you're right to fill it, we'll help you. The choice must be yours. As you would have to realise that this choice you're you have, that few men are ever given, is not a birthright, Albrecht name, or not. It will be achieved - slim are the chances - through the respect and toil of thousands. And in the rare possibility that you end up on the throne rather than in a jail, you would swear to do right by those men when the reckoning came."
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