The logs of Linus VonClaussen, shadow-chancellor of the Rheinland Republic.

[Claussen]

But one week ago, I was celebrating with Helga over our hard-won success. I could see their faces - jubilant beyond the balcony.





How fast, turns fortunes wheel. Of course, they would attempt to pin the Unioners to me - I am the Chancellor of Hamburg, it was an obvious choice. No matter that it was my predecessor that allowed the prison to fall - no. Politics cares little for truth or accuracy. A humbling time. I must confess, I feel alarmed. Beside myself. As if every day brings its own sweating pressure. Their belief, that the Imperial party will succumb whilst the advocates attend to their courts will fall false - the party will survive and continue. We are what the people voted for.

What better way to undermine our message of order and prosperity than to make a criminal of me?



I am not sure exactly who within the Bundestag took this grievous step. The UDF delegates were certainly ruthless enough. Sitting behind a desk, with the power of the pen, they would send men to their deaths to preserve their personal power. They would hold us in a vice. I had expected that the faces across the aisle from myself were plotting my political destruction, not my arrest. So sick and poisoned has our government become.

The streets are filled with dissent and protest. Many millions clamouring for the rule of law, for peace - measured against their value in credits to a few, derilict systems of statehood that have forgotten their own memories.

I am reminded of my cousin. I was barely a man during the nomad war - and although my cage is certainly more comfortable than that which I had once been entrapped, there is a fearful familiarity to being chased by men in green, austere uniforms. Just like old times, then.



We must leave this place. Head to Berlin - secure representation, and ensure the continuity of the party. Be my course by trial, or by freedom, this needs to stand for something. We cannot allow ourselves to be silenced to protect the vicious few.

[Claussen]

Dear diary. Today I attempted to secure passage on a Kruger transport.




It was a desperate measure. She was a rusty old scow - a nuclear fuel hauler, carrying mox to the Bretonians.

Civility and a belief in the decency of all people is a fundamental tenant of my belief in the Rheinland. Perhaps he didn't recognise me. Perhaps he did recognise me - that could have been the source of the discord.

[03.04.2020 13:56:54] Kruger|KTS-Burghaun: Hey there
[03.04.2020 13:57:05] Krone.der.Linde: Claussen: "Captain."
[03.04.2020 13:57:28] Krone.der.Linde: Claussen: Good captain - where is your vessel headed?
[03.04.2020 13:57:36] Kruger|KTS-Burghaun: This is Kruger business
[03.04.2020 13:57:44] Krone.der.Linde: Claussen: Of course. *pauses*
[03.04.2020 13:57:53] Kruger|KTS-Burghaun: We hire also
[03.04.2020 13:58:02] Kruger|KTS-Burghaun: Have a good day
[03.04.2020 13:58:02] Krone.der.Linde: Claussen: I was curious if I may be able to hire your vessel as a...
[03.04.2020 13:58:06] Krone.der.Linde: Personal conveyance.
[03.04.2020 13:58:18] Kruger|KTS-Burghaun: You can be a security employe officially
[03.04.2020 13:58:36] Krone.der.Linde: Claussen: Sir. *The politician pauses, searching for the correct words.*
[03.04.2020 13:58:44] Krone.der.Linde: I am not looking for employment, but passage upon your transport.
[03.04.2020 13:58:53] Kruger|KTS-Burghaun: Not interested

Or perhaps there are regulations that govern the access of open berths upon transports carrying nuclear fuel. I will have to consult the neural codex. Although I cannot in any faith hope that my communications are not being monitored.

I must confess to... discomfort, now that the dignities of society are steadily being stripped from me. I struggle to avoid anger. Yet my plight is only a small measure of the injustice melted upon Rheinlanders without the means that I have. How capricious - how shameful, that the government to which I have devoted my adult life, would cannibalise itself so readily. I dread to think as to what the citizenry endure, under the boot.

In our guilded castles, it is easy to forget that the majority of our citizens are just like the crew of that waste scow - keeping our heads down, and trying to live, day to day, without surprises.