The site of the conference -- Raubling Station. As one of the few large enough stations to be occupied by Federalists it has been temporarily converted for use as a pitstop for crews and ships in the system, resulting in the area surrounding the station to be haphazardly dotted with random civilian and military ships awaiting minor repairs or their turn on dropping off supplies.
The station’s overpopulation and the current state of the war in Munich is noticeable the second you land with even the corridors having been transformed into temporary storage, bunks or whatever function was needed to relieve pressure off the overwhelmed system. Symbols of former fleets and units are painted on the hull alongside doors and hallway segments to indicate ownership or possibly as a way to reconnect with long-lost soldiers and veterans.
Past all the activity and the crowded hallways is the area set aside for the meeting, a boardroom in the former executive offices of Daumann.
Squeezing past a set of crates laying in his path, Generaladmiral Marggraf finally reaches the office complex. His face not hiding his displeasure of his time so far on Raubling, the station’s claustrophobic setup would make anyone anxious but the biggest matter on his mind is the general atmosphere on the station. It radiates the feeling of a tiny smuggler outpost rather than a location of Rheinland soldiers, primarily that being the blame on the militias and the lack of military police presence to keep order in all of it.
Those thoughts vanish and a feeling of relief rolls over Marggraf as his eyes finally catch sight of the door of today's meeting place with each side of it being flanked by a uniformed guard. Spotting him they salute and announce his presence to the occupants who arrived prior to him.
He straightens himself up and walks into the room, the majority of the seats remain empty but a few administrative and military personnel are standing awaiting his entrance.
“At ease” he tells the group as he walks towards his chair.
The sound of people sitting down and quiet small talk envelope the room. Sitting down he notices his technical officer slide a stack of papers in front of him, the top page being an assortment of information in relation to the state of the war. He decides to look through the papers while waiting for the room to fill up with people.
Kai Siegfried slowly limps towards the negotiating table. The peculiarity of his deliberate yet ungraceful gait, hunched stature, and sharp taps of his cane magnified by two enormous marines that marched silently to his flank with practiced precision and impeccable posture. Nothing about the tired looking old man in an unadorned bridge uniform betrayed his rank, save for the laurel crown of command adorning the Federal Eagle on his lapel pin.
Siegfried gestures with his hand, as a marine silently pulls the chair of the nearest place setting. With a grunt, the admiral laboriously collapses into his chair.
"You will have to excuse me for my current state. I am still recovering from my retirement, and will need to get acclimated to station gravity."
The other marine swiftly sets a tablet in front of the Admiral.
Siegfried stares intently at Marggraf as if to measure his entire being.
- "Docking successful, Vizeadmiral, pressurisation in progress."
Friedrich ignored the announcement, and kept staring at the console. Busy man got completely lost in thoughts again, and he genuinely didn't notice his mate saying anything. A behavior vested just the day before, when he had recieved an urgent call to join the conference. Not surprising, ad there was a lot to think about.
To him and his crew, the whole world they knew was turned upside down. Few important persons flipped a swich, and overnight, the 3rd sigma fleet was forced to clush arms with their very own friends and collegues. The world they new and swore to defend was gone, and now they had to embrace the live of fugitives and vagabonds. Things are bad. Very bad even. Kameraden fleet struggles with scarcity of even the most basic of goods. The morale, while just a month ago seemed uncrushable, was now dangerously low. Unrest started to grow within the civilian population of occupied Munich. Something had to be done, and those decisions were about to be made on this one meeting, which, minute after minute, was getting closer to reality.
Finally, his yet another sprial into thoughts was interrupted by the station's docking control transmission.
- "Kamerad Vizeadmiral Friedrich Lehman? We were expecting you. Herzlisch wilkomen on-board Raubling station. Make your way to the boardroom. The conference will begin soon."
Looking around the room to see the seats only half filled, Marggraf sighs and speaks up.
“Yeah, we'll get started Admiral. Rather not have us all here all day anyway."
The quiet sound of people talking comes to a stop as he starts speaking.
“It’s great to see that a good chunk of officers have arrived and even a visit by the Intelligence Buro, it is nice to have you all here. I’ve called this meaning to inform you all about the situation in Munich and the state of the front here..”
Grabbing the stack of papers he hands them over to his technical officer who starts to distribute them to the seated individuals.
“I’ve had my men look into everything they could look into and we’ve come to the conclusion that this war can not be sustained in its current form. Economically we’ve lost all our industries other than the aluminum refineries due to New Augsburg being half-repaired and that storm enveloping Nuremberg. Not only are we facing that looming storm problem even here on Raubling, we also have unreliable and unstable supply lines due to our connections having to cross Imperial and Gas Miner Guild patrol paths to reach other houses.
Marggraf clears his throat and continues:
“Thankfully for that latter problem we have our intelligence friend here--” he motions towards Admiral Siegfried “--who is assisting us by organizing a push into Frankfurt from their end. The support of some larger ships should help relieve the pressure against Schwerin’s escort fleet and ensure we don’t starve in our irradiated metal tubes. Could you please inform us of what that is looking like?”