Chapter 3: Never Average
Alliances. Betrayals. Grief. Fear. Leaders. Outcasts. Exploitation.
Some would call this warfare. Rolan called it high school.
This particular battle was the third period Galactic History class.
Rolan's enemy: Miss Herrim.
Miss Herrim was a short woman with frizzy blond hair and a vacant expression. She always wore "bright, cheerful clothes" and walked into the room with a huge, goofy grin that she usually lost within two minutes. She really tried to be a good teacher, Rolan supposed. Could she help it if she didn't have an ounce of talent? Rolan almost pitied Miss Herrim. Then he would hear her lesson of the day: "another chart about the hierarchy of the Old Republic!" and lose all feelings of compassion for her.
Mission objective: stay awake until the bell chimes. Which was always easier said than done.
"Good morning, class," Miss Herrim said cheerfully in her usual too-quiet-to-hear voice. "Today we will be studying different styles of government. And to do this we will be--"
Please, Rolan begged whatever higher power was out there. Not another chart.
"--breaking up into groups--"
Could it be? Something that wasn't one of those prakking charts?
"--to make a chart."
Nooooo!
The entire class groaned as one.
"This will be fun!" Miss Herrim muttered, trying to keep up her disgustingly-cheerful attitude.
"Now I will assign the different groups," Miss Herrim continued, causing the class to groan again.
Miss Herrim began rattling off the names. Rolan listened, hoping that he wouldn't get paired with slackers or anti-alien racists. Well, there were only probably four real, die-hard human supremacists in Rolan's entire grade of three hundred people, but these four had a way of pressuring others into acting the way they did.
"And the last group will have to have three...um, let's see: Sorias, Jaec, and...who haven't I paired yet...uh...Rolan. Your group will be studying the autocracy. Go sit by your groups, everybody."
Rolan got up, grabbed his portable computer terminal (PCT), and went over to Sorias Sephrion and Jaec Forton.
Rolan didn't know much about either of them. Some kids in high school had a way of being overlooked by everyone except for their immediate friends. They were the average ones, the ones with no unique differences--no positive differences as well as negative. Rolan had the advantage of them in this respect; at least with blue skin, red eyes, and his intellectual demeanor there was never a chance that he'd go unnoticed. And that was, in its own way, a good thing. Although some kids ridiculed Rolan for his appearance, (behind his back, of course--no one dared do this to his face) at least Rolan would never get overlooked as average. If there was one thing Rolan did not want to be, it was Average.
"Hey," Jaec said, sounding slightly nervous as Rolan met his stare.
"Greetings," Sorias added, inclining his head in a formal half-bow. It was an odd gesture that looked vaguely comical, despite the boy's serious expression.
Rolan nodded back. "Hello," Rolan replied in his usual neutral and composed tone.
Rolan watched as Jaec minimized the game screen on his PCT. Miss Herrim was so boring that her class took it upon themselves to gain amusement through playing games during her lecture. Sure, there were those who tried to do that during every class, but only in Miss Herrim's class could one find 90% of the students doing this (the other 10% was composed of Rolan, who got by through ignoring Miss Herrim and, in extremely boring cases, reading novels downloaded on his PCT, and Keli, a teacher's pet who did not know when to stop). Miss Herrim knew that everyone in her class was playing games on their PCTs, and would occasionally try to stop them with feeble threats that she never carried out. But most of the time, the class was too quick for her. Miss Herrim would try to catch someone in the act, but always find an innocent-looking child diligently taking notes on their PCT (the game having been exited a mere two seconds before).
That was one of Miss Herrim's problems. She wasn't strict enough. A good teacher had to keep order in the classroom, not let the class get away with everything. It was preferable that a teacher be so compelling that the class would listen to his or her every word through sheer interest. But if that failed, then the teacher had to impose discipline, for the good of the student.
(Much like a military leader.)
Miss Herrim, it seemed, would not have been a capable soldier had she been old enough to fight during the War. Rolan tried to imagine Herrim as an officer on a starship, and barely suppressed a laugh. ("Um...the Imperials (no, the Rebels) are attacking us...hold on, let me make a chart on our options...")
Jaec, who was sitting across from Rolan, noticed the spark of amusement in his expression, and asked, "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Rolan replied quickly. But Jaec and Sorias insisted on knowing.
"Fine," Rolan relented, and quietly shared his vision of Miss Herrim as a soldier.
Jaec snickered softly, while Sorias gave out a burst of laughter. He broke off, realizing how loud he had been, and lowered his head behind his PCT screen, trying to escape notice. Jaec kicked him under the table.
"Ow..." Sorias muttered. "Thanks a lot..."
"I don't think all of you are talking about government..." Miss Herrim mumbled, not taking her eyes off of her magazine. The three boys waited to hear if she would say any more, but Miss Herrim was too engrossed in what she was reading.
Sorias sighed in relief.
"She's a pain," Jaec whispered. "Only one class of all the freshmen got her--and WE get stuck in it...just our lousy luck, I suppose."
"I don't believe in luck," Sorias argued. "We are here because of the will of the Force. We have a purpose in this class--even if we don't know what it is yet."
"Not this again," Jaec muttered, shaking his head. He turned to Rolan, and added, "Ignore him," jerking a hand in Sorias's direction. "He's a Jedi-wannabe."
"I have Jedi potential," Sorias insisted. "A Knight named Kam Solusar once offered to take me to the Jedi Academy on Yavin IV, once I get older, of course. I will become a Jedi Knight some day."
"If your dad lets you," Jaec said pessimistically.
Sorias sighed. "I'm still hoping I can change his mind." He awkwardly ran a hand through his disheveled yellow hair.
"Okay, class," Miss Herrim interrupted. "It's time to present our findings. We'll start off with the least advanced type of government: the autocracy. I believe Jaec's group covered that." She motioned toward the board, where she had already drawn a hasty chart with the headings of the different types of government and their descriptions.
Rolan stood up and walked to the chart with his partners, projecting an aura of calm composure. Jaec and Sorias glanced at each other with worried looks. They hadn't done a single thing to prepare. Neither, for that matter, had Rolan.
The bell rings in five minutes, Jaec thought. So we just talk till then. Easy. He swallowed hard. I hope.
"An autocracy," Jaec began. "Is the least advanced form of government. As Miss Herrim already said."
"Yeah," Sorias offered helpfully.
There was an uncomfortable silence. The class's eyes were all focused on the PCT screens, though Jaec highly doubted that they were taking notes. Miss Herrim, however, was watching with her full attention. Jaec shifted uncomfortably.
Then Rolan spoke up.
"An autocracy," Rolan began, making his voice sound confident and knowledgeable, "also known as a monarchy or a dictatorship, is a government where all power rests solely with one person: the autocrat. An example from recent history would be the Galactic Empire, which was ruled by, obviously, an emperor. The emperor Palpatine had complete control of his government, or at least he tried to. However, ruling an empire spanning the entire known galaxy proved to be too much for him to handle in the end, for he could not even guarantee loyalty from his right-hand man, Darth Vader, who, as you well know, killed him. Apparently Emperor Palpatine was not proficient at maintaining the loyalty of his followers, something a leader must do.
"There are other, more benign, examples of autocracies. For example, the government of Charou IV is ruled by a Priest-King, and has been for five millennia. But working autocracies are hard to find."
"Cuz the leaders are often psycho," Jaec supplies, trying to help.
"Absolute power corrupts absolutely," Sorias added philosophically.
"Exactly," Rolan continued, nodding. "Of course, autocracies have their advantages. For in republics or democracies, leaders waste weeks, months, or even years arguing about how to get something done. Whereas, in an autocracy, the leader does not have to consult such things as a Senate or any other council of advisors, thus causing things to get done more quickly.
"I suppose what it all comes down to is whether the leader is capable or not. Emperor Palpatine was power-mad, as were many other autocrats throughout history. But if there were to rise an autocrat concerned only with justice and order, not power, then perhaps an autocracy could work. But such a monarch would be rare, if not impossible, to find."
Jaec and Sorias nodded, trying to look involved in the presentation.
"So autocracies are bad," Jaec finished. "And that about wraps it up,"
The bell rang.
The class rose as one and left the room to go to lunch.
Rolan, Jaec, and Sorias grabbed their bags and hurried out the door behind everyone else.
"Whew!" Jaec cried, once they had exited the classroom. "I hate presentations!"
"You and me both," Sorias agreed. "I didn't think we'd make five minutes."
"That was great!" Jaec suddenly enthused, turning to Rolan and giving him a vigorous slap on the back. Rolan inwardly marveled at the strangeness of it. Such a comradely gesture...directed at him. How odd. "That was the best BS-ing I've ever seen!"
"Thanks," Rolan replied, the corners of his mouth turning upward in an expression that he rarely used. "I don't know how I did it," he admitted. "The words just came to me."
"I wish words would 'come' to me like that!" Jaec replied. "I wouldn't be failing Bocce right now!"
"You aren't failing Bocce, Jaec," Sorias insisted.
"Oh, yeah? The teacher's out to get me, I swear!"
"Mrs. Sosska?"
"Yeah, that's her. And all because I called her a "mister" at the beginning of the year. I mean, she's a Trandoshan, for Force's sake! How am I supposed to tell?!"
The two Humans laughed.
"I should've taken Huttese," Jaec grumbled. "At least then I'd know some good curses."
"Don't wish that. I heard it's almost impossible to pronounce."
"Well, I bet the teacher's nicer than Sosska!"
"I think the teacher's a droid. So while you can bet he'd be nicer, he'd sure be a lot more boring."
"So, what's worse, getting bored to death with a droid or scared to death with Mrs. Sosska and her sharp claws and pointy teeth? No thanks--I'll take the droid."
"I've heard Mrs. Sosska makes the class interesting, though."
"Interesting?! Hah!"
Rolan could tell that this was an old argument between the two.
The three boys continued on, until they reached the lunchroom.
Ah, the cafeteria. One of the primary battlegrounds of Rolan's war to get through high school.
Navigating this war zone was a tricky business. Everyone belonged to a specific territory, and if you intruded on someone else's...the consequences weren't good.
First there were the "Jocks", with their generally immature ways and arrogant attitudes (Overconfidence is a great tactical weakness). Next there were the "Preppies", the girls (and occasionally, guys) obsessed with clothes, money, and other material things. Then there were the lower social strata: the myriads of "nobodies", average kids—neither "cool" nor "uncool"—with nothing that set them apart. These average kids looked up to the Preppies and the Jocks, and one day wished to attain their goal of being accepted into the popular group. Then there were the "Geeks" (people with a large amount of technical skills and a great admiration for geniuses like Qwi Xux and the renowned slicer Ghent), the "Freaks" (who, unlike Rolan, deliberately dyed their skin unnatural shades and spiked up their hair until it was almost sharp enough to be used as a weapon), and the "Criminals" (who idolized "role models" like Talon Karrde and Boba Fett). People belonging to these groups only sat with others of the same social class. It was an unwritten rule. If someone tried to rise in status, they were subject to embarrassment and ultimate failure.
Rolan was disgusted by the politics of it all. Such divisions were so pointless. If the student body would only work together, they could actually accomplish something worthwhile.
But that would never happen. This was High School. Everyone had their place. Except for Rolan.
Rolan was a loner. He just didn't seem to fit in any of the aforementioned groups. He liked to believe that he surpassed such stereotypes. Or perhaps he was just too different.
Rolan supposed that, given his unusual appearance, the Freaks would readily accept him. But their displays of pointless rebellion weren't really his style.
So Rolan was a loner, always sitting alone and keeping to himself.
Until now. For it seemed to Rolan that he had just found two friends. (Or rather, they had found him.) Well, they weren't friends, not yet. But it was a start.
The three boys moved through the lunch line, tried not to gag when they saw their "food", and moved for a table. Rolan paused for a second, then decided to join them. Let's see how this plays out, Rolan decided. He didn't like improvising (he preferred to have a plan already in place), but he could do it.
Jaec and Sorias continued their discussion of the school's most evil teachers. Rolan spoke up occasionally, and the two would always let him speak. It was a different situation than usual, to say the least.
Jaec was in the middle of a story about someone's Chemistry class antics.
"And then," he was saying. "Mr. Cofran came by, and saw the spilled acid...And Josik picked that precise moment to let his model volcano go off...and BOOM!" He slapped the table and broke out laughing, unable to narrate it any longer.
"So," Sorias took over. "Josik and Delf got detention...Mr. Cofran had to get a new tie...and our Chemistry class was left with a memory they would never forget." He too burst out laughing.
Rolan felt a deep laugh coming from his own throat.
Jaec looked at Rolan incredulously. Rolan always looked so serious, and--truth be told--intimidating (it was probably the glowing red eyes). He hadn't even known that Rolan's species could smile.
Strange, he thought. I've seen him so often in school, and yet I didn't even know the most basic stuff about him. He was always alone and solemn-looking...I thought he was a freak. Have I ever even talked to him before today? It's weird, how things are. You think you know a guy, and it turns out he's completely different... Jaec broke off his train of thought, realizing that it was starting to sound like one of Sorias's crazy philosophical ramblings.
"Hey, Rolan," Jaec said suddenly. "You're an okay guy. A little stiff, but we can fix that." He grinned at Sorias.
"Oh, yes," Sorias agreed, nodding conspiratorially. "So where do we begin?"
"I'll teach him about the wonderful world of Comedy," Jaec replied, suddenly looking devious. "I'll start with the great Corellian Masters. You know, guys like Dougas Adrams and his 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe' books. And Montyn Pytho. Definitely Montyn Pytho."
"I have their entire first season on holovid," Sorias offered. "We can watch it this Saturday."
"Good," Jaec replied, giving a satisfied nod.
Rolan looked from one to other. "Do I have a choice in this matter?" he asked, his voice matter-of-fact. Despite his serious exterior, he was inwardly laughing at the strangeness of it all.
"No," Jaec replied bluntly. "You don't." He turned back to Sorias, unusually businesslike. "Okay, I've got Humor, what will you teach him?"
"Philosophy," Sorias replied, his tone dead serious. "You know, Jedi teachings and such."
"Philosophy?!" Jaec cried. "Why in Force's name would he want to learn about that?" He turned to Rolan. "Ignore him, Sor's a Jedi-wannabe who's always stuck in his own world."
"And what's wrong with that?" Sorias demanded, feigning offense. "I happen to like my world, thank you very much!"
"See what I mean," Jaec said, rolling his eyes. Rolan laughed, unable to stop himself.
The bell rang, and everyone began to slowly tread to their next classes.
"Hey, Rolan," Jaec called, as their paths split. "Meet us after school at the arcade, okay?"
"Sure," Rolan replied, his tone unusually enthusiastic. "I'll see you there!"
Were Rolan's senses deceiving him? Had the lunchroom conversation really happened?
I suppose I have "friends" now, Rolan thought to himself. It was an odd sensation. He hurried to his next class, in unusually high spirits. He had allies in his war to get through high school.
'Allies in his war...?' Rolan shook his head. Why did he always think in such military terms?
Rolan pushed those thoughts out of his mind. But as he walked
into Spatial Geometry class, he couldn't help but think that things would
be different now. In more ways than one.
Okay, so that was more of a comedic chapter than anything else (don't worry, people, we'll get to the action soon enough...) And, unfortunately, Miss Herrim is based off of a REAL teacher (scary, isn't it?)
Next chapter we'll go back to Laira, her father, and a certain notorious bounty hunter. *dramatic music* And shortly after that we'll return to Rolan to witness an interesting scene during Art Class, and see Rolan receive the first real clue to his identity... *more dramatic music*
Chapter 4 should be up by Sunday evening or Monday morning.
