If I could reach through the neuralnet, your neck would be wrung! Arbeiter, we have worked relentlessly for this peace. If you get caught in combat with the Liberty Navy in Hudson, like it or not, the Media will use that brush to tar the entire movement. The BDM institutionally views us as a security threat - and who can fault their way of thinking when we act like one? We have barely recovered from the last three hundred years. It has only been two years since the majority of Rhienland considered us to be terrorists. War leaves a long shadow - a shadow that you are still wading in, Riehl.
You risk compromising us all, your brothers, your sisters, the Unions themselves. I know you're embittered over the direction the movement has taken since the peace. Think with your head, not your fire toggle. I only have so much capital with the new government. If we fail to prove our commitment to the peace, the state will throw us into the nearest passing trade lane at the first opportunity.
Our people must learn that our place in the cosmos is to be more than carrion. And you must learn that you are more than a bandit, Riehl. We all must learn.
We'll discuss more in person. As for now, I have grades to allocate. Such is the price of peace.
"Though the past is scarred and the future untold"
" Be the boot heavy, the vacuum cold."
"I of the Liga, do not fold" "For suits or saints or beggar's gold. Information-Recruitment-Message Dump-Feedback
This message is highly encrypted using syndicliga proprietary encryption cryptography through intranet-publicneralink drops and are functionally untracable if no sender address is given. Abuse of Intranet functionality commands community service punishments as listed in regulation five three seven gamma six. security is assumed. Any deliberate or otherwise location triangulation method successfully employed against anonymous transmissions will receive either a one billion credit reward or immediate incarceration dependent upon disclosure and motive. The revanchist council requests that Arbeiters do not squander valuable neuralnet bandwith on the consumption of CNS articles, adult content, or gambling, and advise that the relevant arbeiters employ public terminals for such use, rather than the secure line. Communal enforcement may differ between Reichsarbeitergesellschaft der Alsterian and Landwirtrechbewegung cells. Consult your admin for technical support or contact your resident Neural Technology Help Specialist at www.totallypacifica@notAHacker.net. The Union reminds Arbeiters that "trolling" is not an acceptable standard of political debate, unless aimed at capitalists, fascists, militarists, etc, who lack the neurological prerequisites to engage in such discourse. Southern Unioners are encouraged to remember that the average Unioner's literary age is roughly analogous to a twelve year old on PCP, and are encouraged to avoid engaging in difficult subjects, and are suggested to stick to familiar subjects, such as the market value of cardamine, bundschuh-based footwear puns, and the general terrible quality of life aboard wedel mining station.
Have a glorious day, Comrade user. - Unity, your resident Neuralnet VI.
G.Riehl
Incoming Transmission
Alster Unioners
To: Goatman homunculus actual. From: Hellion. Oh, my real name's Gunda Riehl. Riehl name. Heh. Subject:Glad you started to pay attention, Frei.
Unpacking videofile...
Scanning for malware...
Linking attachments...
Video play...
Gunda Riehl's stare was burning prograde and right through the intervening lightyears before it spaghettified itself somewhere in the midcourse and came down as a stupefied sneer of utter misery.
"Yeah, I'm besotted with y'all and all of this end-of-history histronics n' razzmatazz, but, before we get all plush and comfy ripping my spine out...
F**k you, old man. Where were you staggering off to? We need you, boss. Hollywood certainly frickin' gave his ten-gallon trying to keep the Unions from tripping up over one another. We don't have any center point - any nucleus, any common orbit we can rally around."
She spluttered white metal fire, spitting angry, desperation-trothing.
"I was out there with a kid. One of the new breed - the kind that walked in off the streets and into the Hammerlife without anyone. He'd lost his kin, lost his kith, lost his smashcracked marbles in the civil war. He came to us for a better life. Us."
"You knew it'd take more than this. And whilst you're out there, on Hamburg, trying to help the Originalists 'move on', some of us, right here, right now, can't move on. We're sodding neutronium. I am gonna' frickin die in this life because I never was taught differently."
"And, what, since the 'Cause' turned in its combat helmets, we have to do the same? Have you ever supposed what'll happen to those of us who can't just bend their own steel? Who've been set and made?"
"Think on that, Boss. I know y'll will. You were the best damned Arbeitsdirektor who ever served the Gears. Not frickin' Hansel Garen, not Maxwell Schilder, that traitorous tyche. No, it was you, boss. And we need that molybdenum-edge fusion-hearted psychopath who pissed in the eye of God and sent the Auxesians, sent the LSF, sent the Separatists, Sent the Coalition, sent the Lane Hacktivists, and sent entire Munich detachment of the Red Hessian Armee, straight to hell."
"We need guidance, boss, if we're going to run this race out. And we need cynical, rambunctious old goat Corin Frei to get the f**k out of his dotage, take off the nutty professor cosplay, prime your Linebacker, and start getting the Cells back and presentable again, you feel me?"
"It's been two years. Yeah - I'm mad as hell."
The birdclock croaked when it saw the sun, tethered to a spring.
G.Riehl.
Wedel's Remnants. [/align]
Transmission Complete
Scrambling access point...
Decompiling neuratrace... Signal lost.
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)