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Josef Marks moved quickly through the angry crowd, keeping his head down and his eyes wide open. It was a sight common in wartime Rheinland. Students, given courage by the strength of their convictions and the naivete of their youth, gathered together to protest the Rheinland Government. Signs written in harsh angry tones with demands for freedom were omnipresent. Riot police stood in front of the crowd, the green and black uniforms of the Polizei only exciting the crowd further. It was a scene that could easily have been messy, but the students were spared for the expense of the Bretonian news crew that had been passing through the university district. The domestic outlets knew better than to air coverage of protests, especially when they were quickly squashed with brutal police action, but neither the polizei nor his ministry of state could touch the foreigners without setting off an incident.

Marks and the Volksfront had counted on the authorities'€™ kids-gloves handling of the protest when they bribed the Bretonians to stop by. They were complacent about the whole affair, employees of a 3rd rate channel, only on Neu Berlin for coverage of the wedding of some Holonet star. When Marks had approached them through his student intermediaries, they had acquiesced quickly, their only questions concerning the size of their bribe.

The footage itself wasn'€™t important, but by their very presence the reporters insured that neither party would do anything newsworthy. The students, angry as they were, knew better than to pick a fight, and the police were on a tight leash. In this time of war, with everyone desperate for support, everyone was eager to present themselves in the greatest possible light to the outside world. Regardless, the images of the protesters would probably never air anywhere. The Bretonians, already hard pressed by their conflict with Kusari, had little interest in the trials of the Rheinlanders. Even the Rheinlanders themselves would never see it, their daily digest of media strictly controlled by the central authorities. There had been notable successes in the Volksfronts counter-propoganda operations, with Marks himself operating a pirate radio station, but mass market penetration remained difficult. Rather pessimistically, the Volksfront had realized long ago that the greatest benefit of protests was for inspiring the protesters to join the Volksfront and to support their cause. Entertaining the students lofty ideals with meaningless protests fell rather short of the Volksfront'€™s purists own ideals, but eventually all conceded the desperate need for new recruits and supplies.

It had been a brief visit on the planet for Marks, the whole trip almost cancelled at the last moment when it appeared the police were paying extra attention to the student protests and their special guests. In these uncertain times, Marks had been an unusual choice as the Volksfront'€™s chosen delegate to their student affiliates. While he was well known as an intellectual and revolutionary on the campuses, that same notoriety had concerned some in the Volksfront who thought that it heightened the risks to all involved. Marks had argued that the same notoriety and risk would demonstrate the Volksfront'€™s commitment to the student groups, a vital recruiting pool for the organization. In the end, Marks prevailed, and he was wrapping up a densely scheduled campaign on the planet, greatly benefiting from meeting with all of the major student groups.

He continued to move through the crowd with a fast walk, but not so fast that he would attract attention. Coming to the rally looked like a waste of time in retrospect. He'€™d hoped to address the crowd before the police had shown up, but they'€™d been unusually prescient this sunny afternoon, arriving only moments after the students began their chanting at the university'€™s administrative building. Moving towards the back of the crowd now, he began to look for his contact, a leader of the student movement, and his guide during his visit on campus. Now was the time to go, and Marks was concerned about getting off planet soon.

The first sign that something had gone wrong came with the sound of the Polizei slowly thumping their stunsticks against riot shields as they advanced towards the students. Marks looked to the front of the crowd and past the police to the front steps of the building, where the news crew should'€™ve been. Seeing only the dull grey steps of the formidable building, Marks intensified his search for the missing liaison.

He ran now, ran from the advancing polizei along with hundreds of students who had shouted defiantly only moments ago. The crowd was dispersing in all directions, the ground plastered with signs and pamphlets that were quickly abandoned by a frightened and experienced crowd. The next surprise for the crowd came in the lines of riot units strung across the rear exits to the public square. They might as well have been a wall. Trapped against one immovable line of police with another advancing towards it, the crowd descended into madness as police paddywagons touched down behind police lines along the edges of the square.

Marks tried his best to remain calm, but the situation gave little opportunity for hope. His only chance was that he was able to somehow avoid detection as anything but an ordinary protester. He moved towards the center of the crowd, trying to buy himself more time. Pushing an agitated protestor, he was surprised when the protestor fell over. Glancing backwards, he saw a sleek tranquilizer start sticking out of the protestor'€™s chest. Further back, two well-built men, dressed like plainclothesmen '€“ one with a gun in his hand, moved towards Marks.

Realizing now the seriousness of the situation, Marks turned his head back around just fast enough to see the stunstick that knocked him unconscious with a blow to the head, and the third man holding it.