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The Ghost of Prussia - Vogel - 12-23-2010
The Ghost of Prussia
![[Image: rheinishempire.png]](http://img145.imageshack.us/img145/9685/rheinishempire.png)
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He tapped the button which ended the transmission and sighed with satisfaction.
"A favorable turn of events," Friedrich said, a smile playing about his lips as he turned to face the elderly looking gentleman behind him, "Wouldn't you say, Kapitan?"
The old man nodded mechanically.
"Indeed, Sire."
Friedrich Wilhelm Ferdinand, Prince of Prussia, heir to the throne of the Rheinish Empire, of the Hohenzollern line, walked towards the large viewport that provided the bridge crew a starry vista. It was not a sight uncommon to him, the vast realms of space, parts of which were rightfully his.
But all that was his right now was this ship and its crew. The SMS Hohenzollern was an old vessel, almost ancient in fact, that had survived from the Imperial days. One of the earliest variants of the Pelican armored transport, it had been custom built for Kaiser Wilhelm IX, the last emperor of Rheinland. While luxuriously furnished, it was a vessel explicitly designed for the Kaiser's safety, and as such was the only vessel of his personal fleet that escaped after the Revolution. Crewed by a band of loyalists and periodically updated with more modern equipment, it was a quiet reminder of what once was.
To Friedrich, it was a reminder of what should be.
"It's a bit exciting, you know, Kapitan," the young prince continued, "An audience with a true emperor, over a true empire. Not hamstringed like the Bretonians, not divided and weakened like the Kusari..."
"Intact," the old man said woodenly.
Friedrich turned a bit and glared at the Kapitan for a moment.
"Apologies, Sire, I did not mean to offend."
"It's fine, Ludendorff," Friedrich replied, grinning a bit maliciously, "I will blame it on failing circuits."
The old man's eyes refocused with a faint, audible clicking. Indeed, the old man was not a man at all, but a highly detailed mannequin with the embedded memories of one. Paul von Ludendorff, once General and head of the Generalstab of the Kaiser's military, served on in the form of an android. The technology for such an operation was barely in the experimental stages back then, but Ludendorff's case was something of a success. The same could not be said of the other military and political leaders who saw their careers cut short by radicals with tachyon rifles. The android now served faithfully as assistant, adviser, and captain of the Hohenzollern, loyalty unwavering, even in death.
"It is not the safest endeavor, Sire," the android said, using a hand to twirl its traditionally styled moustache.
At this Friedrich raised an eyebrow; it was an eerie mannerism of Ludendorff's that had followed him to this second life, and always meant that he felt genuine concern.
"Your thoughts, Kapitan?"
"Certainly. While the rumors and stories we have received seem consistent, and therefore reliable, there is no guarantee that the Gallic authorities will be as gracious as they claim, or as civilized."
The prince nodded thoughtfully and gazed back out the viewport.
"But we do share a common enemy," he said quietly.
"You mean Liberty, Sire?" Ludendorff asked.
"Liberty, Herr Kapitan," Friedrich said aloud, "Liberty."
He spun around on his heel and fixed the android with a triumphant gaze.
"It's something we had to put behind us in the face of contemporary struggle, but you know how the Kaisers of old felt about that House. And you know the rumors of the Gallic war fleet."
Ludendorff nodded.
"The enemy of our enemy is our friend, Ludendorff. If something can be made of this meeting, then there is a chance."
"And in the event they overrun Rheinland... and annex it completely?" the android asked, concern bleeding through its voice.
At that, the prince clicked his jaw shut and looked back out the viewport, gazing past the sea of stars.
"We play with the hand we've been given, Kapitan," Friedrich said, "We will succeed if we must."
The bridge fell silent for a few moments, as the heir of a forgotten empire came to terms with the gods of fate.
"Set course for Gallia."