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fandomhigh2010-08-30 07:22 am
on-her-korhal.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhigh2010-08-30 07:22 am
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Macro-Tactics, Monday, Period One
Class was held in the Danger Shop -- not because Kerrigan was intending to render any large landscapes this time, but because it made it infinitely easier for her to project a few smaller things, maps, simulations, that kind of thing. As it stood, the room was large, metallic, in possession of a few screens, chairs, and a massive round table in the center of the room that, for the moment, was still a dullish black.
"I'm Lieutenant Sarah Kerrigan," she announced, the rank she hadn't held in years rolling easily off her tongue. "Welcome to Macro-tactics. Some of you have taken classes by me before; to you, I'm saying you're in luck. We're going to be a little less hands-on for this one."
She tilted her head, eyes flicking over each and every one of the students present. Memorizing, perhaps. (Really, she was listening) "Macro-tactics. The art of war from a top-down perspective, if you will. Remember that when you engage in a war, if you're at the head, you're the one putting lives on the line, and people are going to die for you. If you can't deal with that, get the hell out of the War Room."
There. That might give their ethically-inclined brains a little shock to the system.
"What we're going to be talking about is resources. Troop placement. Extensive maneuvers. You have to be able to manage every detail of a strategy from the top without getting involved yourself. Most wars aren't about whose strategies are the most perfect, but about who makes the least mistakes, so here's lesson number one: don't make them." Her lips widened into a smile. "So learn to do the impossible, kids. It's always interesting."
She leaned back. "I'm your very first teacher of the semester," she said, "Which means none of you should be sick of introductions yet. Name, I don't care about your class, and give me one battle, personal, historical or fictional, that interests you. And why. Nobody cares if you can drop a name. Oh, and do tell me if you think you'd be capable of sending men into battle."
Then her eyes flicked to one last section of the room. "Frost," she said, "See me after class."
"I'm Lieutenant Sarah Kerrigan," she announced, the rank she hadn't held in years rolling easily off her tongue. "Welcome to Macro-tactics. Some of you have taken classes by me before; to you, I'm saying you're in luck. We're going to be a little less hands-on for this one."
She tilted her head, eyes flicking over each and every one of the students present. Memorizing, perhaps. (Really, she was listening) "Macro-tactics. The art of war from a top-down perspective, if you will. Remember that when you engage in a war, if you're at the head, you're the one putting lives on the line, and people are going to die for you. If you can't deal with that, get the hell out of the War Room."
There. That might give their ethically-inclined brains a little shock to the system.
"What we're going to be talking about is resources. Troop placement. Extensive maneuvers. You have to be able to manage every detail of a strategy from the top without getting involved yourself. Most wars aren't about whose strategies are the most perfect, but about who makes the least mistakes, so here's lesson number one: don't make them." Her lips widened into a smile. "So learn to do the impossible, kids. It's always interesting."
She leaned back. "I'm your very first teacher of the semester," she said, "Which means none of you should be sick of introductions yet. Name, I don't care about your class, and give me one battle, personal, historical or fictional, that interests you. And why. Nobody cares if you can drop a name. Oh, and do tell me if you think you'd be capable of sending men into battle."
Then her eyes flicked to one last section of the room. "Frost," she said, "See me after class."