fandomhigh | The Art of War, Week #14 [Period 3, Monday]

"Last week we gained first-hand knowledge of Tzu's favorite weapon - fire," Ghanima said as the students settled down. "The events you saw happened on my homeworld about thirty years ago. Five troop carriers alighted in the deep desert, intent on raiding the sietch and picking up Fremen for questioning." She smiled at them, a slightly vicious edge to her eyes. "One carrier escaped, with only three prisoners. One of whom some of you met," she said with a nod to Ella and Agnes, "who allowed herself to be captured. Fremen casualties were mild, compared to the fate that befell the Emperor's troops."

"Before we continue with the last section of Tzu's manifesto, I'd like to take a few moments to discuss what you learned last week. Is fire a weapon you would use? Why or why not? Remember; a desperate enemy is the most dangerous."

"Afterwards, we will move on to one of my favorite sections, and the last chapter of the book." Ghanima held up her copy of the book and smiled. "Spies."

"Spies. A resource that is often sadly overlooked," Ghanima remarked after the first discussion. "Industrial espionage, eavesdropping on a friend, employing reconnaissance behind enemy lines, all of these count as spying. However, it is not as straight forward as you would think."

"There are five types of spies," she stated, turning to write on the board:

(1) Local spies (2) inward spies (3) converted spies
(4) doomed spies (5) surviving spies.

"When you have these working together properly, it is your greatest resource, greater than munitions or soldiers or generals. Information, as always, is the most powerful weapon of all."

"Each type of spy has a specific purpose," she continued. "Having local spies means employing the services of the inhabitants of a district, usually to help you detect localized troop movements and to be aware of changes in terrain. Having inward spies means you are making use of officials of the enemy."

"My personal favorite are the converted spies, getting hold of the enemy's spies and using them for our own purposes." Ghanima beamed at the class. "Subversion of a loyalist is always so entertaining."

"Then there's the 'doomed spies'. Some squeamish generals try to avoid this grouping, but they are indispensable to a solid victory. Having doomed spies, doing certain things openly for purposes of deception, and allows our spies to know of them and report them to the enemy."

"Surviving spies, finally, are those who bring back news from inside the enemy's camp." Ghanima said briskly. "There is no part of war more delicate, more intimate, or harder to balance than with spies. As Tzu says, 'None should be more liberally rewarded. In no other business should greater secrecy be preserved.'"

"Your assignment for next week is to ferret out some tidbit of information to which you would not normally be privy," Ghanima informed them. "Either via another spy, or by uncovering it yourself. You will not need to share exactly what you learned, merely the method used to discover the information."

[OOC: You know the rules, ~~wait for~~ the purty OCD awaits! Have fun!]

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"In what sort of non-combat situation could you see spies being useful?" Ghanima asked. "Industrial espionage has been around for thousands of years, and gossip could be considered a form of spying. Do you think the rules of engagement change for these spies not on a battlefield? Why or why not?"

"Spies are always useful," he said, thinking of Shell, of the boy who'd seen him, of the white Cat.

"And always inconvenient. But if you're in a situation that would make you think of them, they're probably necessary."

"Not really, though I understand what you're saying," she said, straightening up. "It doesn't matter where your location is. If you're on the job, then you're on a battlefield. It might not be one with guts and gore and blood flying about, but it's a battlefield anyway. Your weapons are your words, your eyes, your hands. The way you walk, the way you talk, that's what you're fighting with--and if you're good at it, then only you ever realize that a battle was fought and won there."

"Spies can prevent non-combat situations from escalating into wars," Ben said, "and so for them, it's practically impossible to define what would be a battlefield. Infiltrating a base that holds a secret weapon is a battlefield, even if no one knows about it yet and it's thousands of lightyears behind the battle zone. The same holds true for trying to coerce someone into becoming a collected spy. It's a two person battlefield. Electronics listening for key phrases--it extends the battlefield everywhere." He shrugged. "It's best to think that someone is always listening, and guide yourself accordingly. The idea that a battlefield is only where capital ships are pounding on each other is antiquated."

"All's fair in business and gossip," Reno mused. "I took up the radio job for the gossip, zoto. And I know I don't invite squirrels into my bedroom. That don't stop 'em from showin' up, though, so that someone else can tell the island about everything I do in a day, you know?"

Tell the island. Mock openly. That kind of thing.

"Of course the rules change for spies not on a battlefield," Agnes pointed out. "On a battlefield, it's pretty much okay to kill someone on the other side without any sort of reason. Off the battlefield, that's murder."

"It's always murder," Ino said, rolling her eyes. "You're killing someone. That's murder."

"But it's different when it's war," Agnes pointed out. "I'm not saying that makes it okay, but it is different."

"It's not," Ino insisted. "Dead is dead. The when and how don't change that. Saying that it's different on the battlefield? That's just crap people come up with so they don't got to deal with the fact that their loving husbands and sons and daughters and wives are murderers. Make no mistake, a soldier is a murderer. You can't kill people and just because of the reason say it's not murder."

Edited 2008-12-09 04:18 (UTC)

"I'm not suggesting you run off and kill people!!!" Agnes protested.

Except maybe yourself.

"But people who go off to war to save their country have to come home afterward -- those who get to come home -- and live their lives. They're already going to have to live with what they've done -- who are YOU to make it worse on them?"

She... had sounded just like Granny, there. Agnes grimaced. She must be picking up the witchy attitude from the hat, by osmosis or something.

Ino smiled thinly. "Do you even know what my job is back home?" Ino asked. "I'm a ninja. I'll fight for my country."

A pause.

"But fighting for my country is only a very small part of what I'm to do as a ninja. Far more of it will be whatever a client pays me to do. Murder is no problem. So if I say I see no difference in the deaths caused in protecting my home, and the deaths caused because of the specific job a client wants, then I think I know what I'm talking about better than you who isn't a ninja."

"Death is death, no matter what you call it. Stop trying to pretty it up."

Agnes smiled at her sweetly. "I'm terribly sorry," she said. "When we started this conversation I didn't realize what a horrible, hateful person you were. It's entirely my fault for trying to argue morality with someone who has no conscience and no human feeling, and I apologize."

Enough.

"Ladies," Ghanima said icily. "I would like to take this opportunity to remind you of the various ways one can earn detention in my class. The first is to get into a physical altercation with another student. The second is to use powers against a classmate. The third is to stoop to personal attacks and insults rather than rational discourse."

She folded her arms and regarded both of them coldly. "I had thought better of both of you. Please. Do feel free to continue this fascinating conversation. If I am feeling benevolent, perhaps I'll allow it to continue over the weekend. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly, Ghanima-sensei," Ino said, settling back in her seat. "I've heard worse anyway."

Agnes flinched and blushed. "Sorry, ma'am," she mumbled.

"I do not particularly care what you have and have not heard, Miss Yamanaka," Ghanima replied, turning her glare fully on Ino. "You are from a culture where murder-for-hire is acceptable. Good for you. Agnes is not. Good for her. Regardless, you are both here as students, to learn to think outside whatever box your cultural brainwashing has provided you."

"And if you cannot win an argument with a classmate without resorting to condescending and borderline xenophobic remarks, then perhaps your presumed moral high-ground is not so steady as you think."

"If you can both be productive, then I encourage you to continue your debate," she said, favoring both girls with a cool glance as she began walking away. "Otherwise, I suggest you both meditate on Tzu's saying, 'He who wishes to fight must first count the cost.'"

And if they started in on the personal insults again, she'd be back in a flash with detention slips.

The Art of War, Week #14 [Period 3, Monday]

Discussion: Spies!

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