None of the seven students had any idea that this was the day that would end up changing their lives forever. It started out normally enough. Like most other students, after they finished studying their attention turned to discussions of philosophy and popular culture.
"For the last time Vlad!" Phelan groaned. "The United Federation of Planets from Star Trek: The Next Generation is NOT socialist!"
Well, maybe not like most other students…
"Of course it is!" Vladimir retorted. "It's clear as day!"
"It's clear that you're a dope." Amira groaned. "This is all your fault Phelan!"
"My fault?" He protested.
"You're the one who got him hooked on Star Trek!" Amira accused. "You're the reason why we all have to suffer through this stupid argument! AGAIN!"
"Don't remind me." Phelan moaned. "Haven't I suffered enough?"
"We all have." Rodriguez groaned.
"Look, it's really quite simple." Vlad said patiently. "The Federation is an egalitarian society based on material abundance and an economy geared towards human—or rather, sentient—need rather than profit. There is no unemployment, no poverty, no bigotry, no sexism, and free universal education, employment, health care, etc. The technological, material, and cultural level of the Federation is far beyond anything that could be accomplished under the anarchic, greed and profit-driven system of capitalism. It is the quintessential socialist society!"
"Shoot me now." Amira pleaded. "I can't take another two hour lecture on this!" Vladimir glared at her.
"This from the girl who spent three hours on how the Cardassian occupation of Bajor was directly analogous to the Israeli Occupation of the West Bank and Gaza Strip!" He shot back
"Well it is!" Amira defended. "I mean Gul Dukat could practically be the twin of Ariel Sharon!"
"Yeah cause everyone knows that Ariel Sharon is yellow and has a spoon on his head." Phelan agreed sarcastically. "Though I will concede that he does look kinda reptilian."
"You know what I mean." Amira said coolly.
"And here we go again." Semira sighed. "Maybe this wont be as bad as the 'Clone Wars equals the Russian Civil War' debate."
"It does fit rather well." Vladimir said. "The Jedi are analogous to the Bolsheviks, and the Separatists—being a bunch of rich capitalists and industrialists—are a lot like the imperialists who financed the White Armies against the fledgling Soviet Republic…"
"Me and my big mouth!" Semira groaned.
"I will not kill him." Takashi repeated under his breath, again and again as it if were a mantra. "I will not kill him. I will not kill him…"
"You're right, I will!" Jacques promised.
"…And the betrayal and extermination of the Jedi is paralleled by the betrayal of the Bolsheviks by Stalin and his purges which led to the degeneration of the Soviet workers state and its subjugation by a parasitic bureaucratic caste, just as the Republic became the Empire." Vladimir carried on.
"And people wonder why we're not held in high regard by the campus elites." Phelan asked rhetorically. "Go figure."
"Speak of the devils." Jacques said as he pointed. "Snob Patrol at two o'clock." Sure enough, there were the—alleged—pride and elite of the Massachusetts Academy heading their way—the Hellions.
Monet, Roulette, Tarot, Jetstream, Beef, and Bevatron. The others were nowhere to be seen. They looked dinged up; their uniforms were torn, their faces were dirty, and they looked angry enough to tear the first person they saw apart.
And the first people they saw were, of course…
"Hey, LOSERS! Beat it! This is our place!" Monet demanded as they stopped under the oak tree where the Omegas were sitting.
"We were here first." Semira said patiently, keeping any annoyance she felt out of her voice. "There is plenty of room on campus for you to pick from."
"We're picking this place." Beef grunted. "Clear out!"
"Who died and made you Tsar?" Vladimir demanded.
"You will if you don't leave!" Roulette snarled.
"We are not going to be kicked out of our favorite spot just to satisfy a bunch of spoiled brats!" Amira snapped back.
"I'd think you were used to getting kicked out of places!" Jetstream snapped back at Amira. She went rigid and looked like she was about to disembowel the arrogant Moroccan.
Vladimir put a calming hand on her shoulder. "Shouldn't you fascists be off somewhere else? Pulling the wings off butterflies or pushing little old babushkas into the streets…or perhaps just sticking to the classics and annexing the Sudetenland?"
"Or Western Sahara." Amira added pointedly, staring at the fuming Jetstream. (See Notes)
"Final warning!" Monet screeched. "Leave or else!"
"We're not moving." Vladimir said flatly. Roulette raised her hand and fired off an energy disk at them. Before it even reached them, Semira opened up a small, spiraling yellow and purple portal in the disk's path. The disk flew in and the portal closed.
"That was a bad move." Semira said. "Leave us alone."
"Make us!" Roulette said, furious at her attack being stopped. Semira shrugged.
"As you wish." She said as she raised her hand. All of a sudden another portal opened right in front of Roulette. Out of the poral came the energy disk Roulette launched a moment before. Without having slowed in the slightest, the disk struck Roulette in the chest.
"OOOF!" She said as she was knocked down.
"GET THEM!" Monet ordered. "ATTACK!" The Hellions charged.
"I'm gonna pound you flat!" Beef roared as he rushed at on Vladimir.
"You are welcome to try." Vlad said as he raised his hands, glowing red with energy. "Dos vidanya." He fired a bolt of energy straight at the gigantic Hellion, blasting him back.
"Is that all you got!" Beef demanded as he picked himself back up off the ground and rushed at Vlad again.
"Not really." Vladimir said. "Observe." He fired his energy blasts again, this time at the ground just in front of Beef. The lumbering dolt tripped in a newly made hole and went skidding on his stomach, coming to a ragged halt at Vladimir's feet. Vlad calmly stepped on Beef's head and literally walked over him.
"NET CARD!" Tarot yelled as she used her card on Phelan. Phelan merely smiled as he was covered in a net.
"You're gonna need a whole lot more nets than that!" He said as he made half a dozen clones of himself, all of them outside the net he was trapped in. "Get her!"
"Argh!" Tarot yelled as she was dog-piled by clones before she could use another card. "Not again!"
Bevatron and Rodriguez were engaged in a lightning duel, neither one of them having much of an edge on the other. Roulette meanwhile was busy trying to get her revenge on Semira.
"Die!" She screamed as she launched disk after disk of black energy at Semira. Semira casually opened another portal to swallow the disks up before closing it again. She then opened up dozens of portals all around Roulette, encircling her. Finally, Semira created one portal next to her. Without even looking away from Roulette, Semira jabbed her fist into the portal. Her fist came out of a portal right in front of Roulette, punching her in the eye.
"WHY YOU—!" Roulette screamed as she punched the portal in front of her, intending to strike Semira back. All she succeeded in doing was to punch herself in the back of her head as her fist came out of a portal behind her.
"Did I forget to mention?" Semira asked. "I control what portal leads to where. And lest you think I forgot…" She opened another portal, sending Roulette's energy disks back at her again.
Jetstream flew out of control as Jacques used his telekinesis to bounce him off walls, the ground, trees, and anything else in sight. Jetstream's power prevented him from being killed on impact, but it still seriously hurt.
Takashi, turning his arms into silver swords, charged at Bevatron and neatly deflected his own electricity back onto him. Bevatron yowled like a scalded cat and collapsed.
Monet, flying high above the battle below, screeched and screamed orders at her teammates.
"ROULETTE, STOP SHOOTING YOUR ONLY MAKING IT WORSE! BEEF! GET YOUR BUTT OF THE GROUND AND DO SOMETHING USEFUL! WATCH OUT FOR YOUR LEFT, NO YOUR OTHER LEFT! ARRRRGH! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU IDIOTS? WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?" She screeched.
"Maybe you're the problem!" Amira sneered as she started to run, picking up speed. She sprang forward, doing a summersault in the air. Landing on her hands, Amira launched herself up at Monet, her feet impacting against Monet's stomach, sending her sailing.
Amira flipped over as she fell and neatly landed on her feet, a display that would have gotten her a ten at the Olympics.
Monet landed hard on the ground. Breathing heavily, she picked herself off the ground
"That's enough." Monet panted as she glared at the Omegas.
"Indeed. That's quite enough." Both teams looked up to see Emma Frost standing with her arms crossed as she surveyed the battle.
She did not look happy.
Notes:
The context of Jetstream's jab is that Amira's people, the Palestinians, have been expelled, ethnically cleansed, or forced to flee from what is today Israel (in 1948 and 1967), Jordan (1970), Lebanon (1982), Saudi Arabia (1991), and Kuwait (1991).
The context of Amira's crack about Western Sahara is the fact that Jetstream is Moroccan. In 1975, Morocco conquered and annexed its southern neighbor Western Sahara and has illegally held it since, not entirely unlike the situation with Israel and the Palestinian Territories.
The bizarre conversation at the start of the chapter is, of course, inspired by the sort of "philosophical arguments" the Brotherhood had about Clue or Christmas specials and the like.
Now you know and knowing is….darn it! They got me doing it!
Next time: Emma Frost's punishment!