"Vila Restal! Pay attention when I'm talking to you!" The annoying Delta educational instructor (though young Vila's name for her was something much more colourful) screamed at him. Again.
The other students twittered and smothered laughs at another welcome interruption to yet another boring lecture on "The Responsibility of Citizens in an Ordered Society." Vila, or "The Clown", as his fellow classmates called him, seemed to provide more than his fair share of them, to their delight.
"You were talking to me? Sorry, I thought you were having some kind of fit. It's hard to tell sometimes," said young Vila.
That did it. After a stern lecture from the principal on school discipline and how disruptions were not to be tolerated, Vila was sent home.
Of course, home was not where Vila went. He headed straight for the underground holovid cafes. This was his real home. Young Vila would spend hours here playing his favourite holovid game, "The Heroes of the Rebellion."
Vila slid into his favourite game station. His fingers touched the familiar firing controls, it felt like an old friend. He was determined to beat the highest score today.
Vila Restal approached the neutron blaster station of the Liberator for the first time. He slid into the odd vertical seat and tried to make himself comfortable. He studied the panel before him. Oh! These controls seemed just like the ones on an old holovid game he used to love. A smile spread across his face. On a strange ship, with a odd assortment of people for company, it felt like he had just run into an old friend.
This might not be too bad after all.