Fandom High School

"All right, children," Kerrigan said, standing straight up in front of the class. "Today's your last class in this module. I hope it's been a little educational." The corners of her long lips tilted up a little bit. "What we've been talking about is the essence of how to deal with a world that's pitched against you. I hope by now you've also gotten the idea that trolling message boards and getting indignant is fun, but it won't help you get by."

God only knew how little being indignant had done for her.

"Sometimes you have to get dirty," she said. "Messy. Foul. When you're at the bottom, you have very little left to lose but your own life - use that. After all, no one is going to give you any respect if you keep your head down solely to make sure you don't get stomped on."

"But that obviously makes this a little... complicated," she continued. "Keep in mind that everyone and anyone can try to use who you are against you, even when they don't mean to. Even when they're friends, or you think they're friends, even if you think you have an insight as to who they are and what they do. Some of you know this. Others..."

She raked her eyes over several members of her audience. "I want you to tell me now how you plan to fight. If you plan to fight. Why you do. Because there's nothing I can tell you that's a magical fix-it. Some of you are going to get kicked down without a single thought into your head as to how things might get better. Trust me. It can happen to anyone. Anyone at all. No matter how... noble... you think you are."

Her mouth evened out. "Go ahead and talk," she said. "If I see any of you in my class next semester... there will be a lot less of that-- so do get it all out now."

"We've spoken," Kerrigan started in, as soon as the door had shut behind the last student. She gave no other warning, "To some extent, about the kinds of subterfuge you need when the scales are tipped against you. Because the day, the moment, the whatever where you realise that the upstairs is keeping you from your full potential is the moment you either lie down and die, or you begin to adapt to the principles of asymmetrical warfare."( Cut for TL;dr! )

"As sweet Polly Oliver lay musing in bed, a sudden strange fancy came into her head," Kerrigan quoted, sitting perched lightly on the desk in the classroom. "Nor father nor mother shall make me false prove, I'll 'list as a soldier, and follow my love." She shut the book in her hands with finality.

"Sometimes," she began, "The only way in which anyone will give you a chance to prove your abilities is by following the example set by sweet Polly Oliver. To exchange your clothes for someone else's, stuff a sock down your pants, and keep plugging away until you do something so impressive that they'll have to take you in, even if you are a woman, or a telepath, or a mutant, or whatever the hell it is they have a stick up their ass about."

She put the book aside. "Of course, that's banking on the idea that there will be something just that impressive to do," she said. "It requires subterfuge, and a keen mind. And a keen understanding of why you are doing what you're doing. Is it simply to get respect, with no ulterior motives? It might work. Or it might be a fool's errand. If you're going to disguise who you are, you'd better have a damn fine idea of what to do when you get where you want to get. No one got very far on life on respect alone. But to use it to get closer to someone or something you need-- Well. It might be a good way to tip the dominoes in your favour. After all, do you want to be put in a special, delicate position because you're the only one of your kind to get where you are? One shift in the ground below your feet, and you're toppling again. It's a romantic idea, but... find something permanent to hedge your bets towards, or you're in for a rude awakening."

With a glimmer of a dark smile, she pushed off the desk. "The other side of the coin is this," she said. "We pretend to be cowed, downtrodden, without power. We speak and we simper until someone else does the speaking for us. Let them open up the road before us and then stride down it when we get what we want. This is less... risky, and relies on getting enough people to do what we want them to do. But less risk can mean less payoff... or less of a fall."

She pulled the book towards herself. "O then Polly Oliver, she burst into tears, and told the good doctor her hopes and her fears, and very shortly after, for better or for worse, the captain took joyfully his pretty soldier nurse," she read. "That's an example of why not to do it. Just FYI. Lovers are so terribly unreliable." She tilted her head. "Would you rather be the example, or the influence behind the throne, arranging the puppets? I'm curious as to your opinions, children."

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The woman whose boots tapped firmly against the floor as she entered, moved with a more than obvious confidence. Her long red hair had been pulled into a loose ponytail, and her clothes were utilitarian, showing fairly little.

"My name is Lieutenant Sarah Kerrigan," she began. "Or rather, that's what it once was. I served as a lieutenant, yes-- in a group called the Sons of Korhal. They treated me like I was invaluable. Something special. And I did my job pretty well."

She stopped moving in front of the desk, and leaned on it with her hands. "Then one day, as it turned out, a dead pretty young female lieutenant is a good martyr for the cause. I was suddenly more than expendable." Beat. "Lucky for me I'm a little hard to expend. And I'm a little more important currency these days."

She pulled away from the desk. "I'm not interested in why you joined this class," she continued. "I'm not interested in what year you're from, or what your favorite meal is. I'm sure somebody's going to wind up asking you these questions this week, but I won't. All I want is your name, and what you plan to be. Take that as esoterically or as practically as you'd like."

"The truth is, life isn't fair, and I'm sure that's not news to most of you. Unless you're from a very specific subset of life, you're going to wind up expendable, or worse. People are going to try to keep you where you'll be useful to them - until you're not. What we're going to be working on these next few weeks is making you useful to yourselves."

In a manner of speaking. They'd find themselves useful to Kerrigan, too.

"Which is why what we want from the future is the first and last thing we need to know about ourselves. Or you're going to wind up just another chess piece with only two squares to move to. Talk."

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