Business as Usual in Leipzig

[callmedelta]

Leipzig, Second Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. March 4th, 2120. 6:37 p.m.

The man stands atop of the van serving as his makeshift stage. The crowd assembled before him were clad in black, hoods raised, and masks on. They held many different things in their hands. Bavarian Flags, German Eagles, and plenty of anti-Commonwealth logos. Rocks, bricks, and bottles of alcohol and gas, too. Hermann Hans looked out upon the crowd, already growing impatient waiting for him to speak. He couldn't fault them. Commonwealth riot police would already no doubt be assembling to meet the crowd. It was time to begin.

"Was sind wir?" Hans shouted.

"Deutsche!" the crowd shouted in return.

"Sind wir Polen?"

"Nein!"

"Sind wir Commonwealther?"

"Nein!"

Hans looked behind him. The riot police had shown up quicker than he'd expected. Hermann had an absolutely wonderful speech planned, too. 'Oh well,' the man thought, 'I'll just give them that much more hell for showing up so soon.' The masked man leapt down from the van he called his stage, taking an old German flag from one of his friends in the crowd. Almost no sooner than did he leave was the van overturned, glass shattering and car alarm blaring. He marched toward the assembling line of police, a crowd sharing his face behind him. 

"Sie haben eine Warnung. Geh oder wir zerstreuen dich," a loudspeaker blared from the police line. It repeated again in Polish, then Lithuanian, and so on through the languages of the Commonwealth. It was standard operating procedure, and nothing but a formality at this point. Hermann doubted anyone in the crowd spoke anything but German and Polish, and any languages but those two would be abandoned after the initial warning. To be honest, Hans was surprised they were still giving out warnings at this point. A few seconds passed, the crowd marching onwards. The warning given, whoever was in charge on the ground was satisfied, and the first volley of tear gas went out into the crowd. It was quickly swallowed up in the crowd, only managing to let out a few fumes before being put out by the crowds. Then they returned fire, the Kuss des Anarchisten, gas and alcohol bombs flying into the riot control police. 

It was business as usual in Leipzig.

[callmedelta]

Just outside of Leipzig, Second Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. March 28th, 2120. 1:55 pm

Mayor Fritz Weber sat across from the Chief of the Police, Jannike Lang. Under better circumstances, the two would have been meeting in Leipzig itself, but the cost of constantly keeping rioters, or on better days protesters, away from the City Hall moved most meetings outside the city itself. Then again, under better circumstances, there wouldn't be any need to protest. Under better circumstances, Leipzig would be German. But neither of the two men in the room could change that, and they resolved long ago to play the hand they were dealt the best they could.

Mayor Weber looked from the tired man across from him to the screen of his computer. The two knew this song and dance by now. "Only 3.6 million złoty in damages this time around. Not great, not terrible."

"No casualties this time," Lang replied, "On either side."

Fritz sighed, rubbing his temple. "Is this what we've come to, Jannike? Two old men, sitting across from each other, and so casually discussing our city going to ruin?"

"We're not old," Chief Lang commented.

"We're old compared to those kids on the street," Fritz said, "and they sure make us feel it. This is how people are suppose to talk about the weather, or the latest football match. Something has to change."

"What can we do?" Jannike asked, "Warschau won't let us go back to Bavaria or declare martial law. We can't exactly expect them to invest in the city, with the riots."

"I have one idea," Weber said. Jannike perked up. "Let's arrest Hermann Hans."

Police Chief Lang laughed. It was a deep, hearty laugh, more than that the Mayor expected to hear when he'd suggested his idea. "Of course, why hadn't we thought of that?" Lang asked mockingly, "I'm sure we could go down to the cells and take your pick. We've got four new Hermann Hans's in custody from just these last two weeks. If we wanted to, I bet we could go to every God-knows-where town in all of Oberdeutschland and find a Hermann Hans to arrest." The Mayor's patience was wearing thin at this point, not that it was thick to begin with. "We've probably arrested a hundred Hermann Hans's in relation to the riots, even though the charges only stick on about half. What's a few more to add to the pile?"

"Enough!" Fritz shouted. The Police Chief's laughter continued for a few seconds more, before fizzling out when he saw the look on the Mayor's face. 

"You're serious?" the Chief said, "We've tried putting officers in the crowds, tracking social media traffic and phones of protestors. What ace in the hole do you have for me, Fritz?"

Mayor Weber smiled. "I don't. That's your job." The Police Chief's face fell.

At the very least, it wouldn't be business as usual in Leipzig