Re: [GZG] Fiction -

Can't give a precise pointer, but a good place to start is the
inestimable
Mister Han's web presence:

http://www.warpfish.com/jhan/ft/gzgpedia/

>From there, you can also check the out the star lists and maps
created/hosted by that impressive Nyrath the Nearly Wise, aka, Winchell
Chung.

As with all things Tuffley, there's plenty of room to play fill in the
blanks.

The_Beast

PS Can anybody tell me if you can do crosstabs in Excel, or if I have to
export to Access, how to do so relatively painlessly? I've been trying
to
mash Winchell's star lists into lists of 'closest' stars distance to
each
star near Sol, and the process is ugly, and fraught with error. Have I
mentioned my strong personal distaste with Mr. Gates?

tagalong wrote on 01/29/2010 02:45:27 PM:

>
>
> So whens the book out. :]
>
> Stupid question but where did you get the place names for Mars from.
>
> Does anyone know of a List of the planet and system names for the
Tuffeyverse.
> Doing a campaign. tar
>
> james
>
>
> On Fri, Jan 29th, 2010 at 1:33 PM, Beth.Fulton@csiro.au wrote:
>
> > G'day,
> >
> > Latest story from Jock. Its a wee bit of a filler before we get back
> > into
> > the campaign proper.
> >
> > Cheers
> >
> > Beth
> >
> > >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
> >
> >
> > In Memoriam
> >
> > After the recent attack in Marin most of the 2/34 had been pulled
> > back to
> > San Juan and from there evacuated to Henna Dimashq, a large Martian
> > city to
> > the north of Coprates Chasma. Like many Martian settlements it is
> > built in a
> > crater, with the original settlement right in the centre and
> > agricultural
> > land in a ring around that. This city had become a hub for local
> > commerce
> > however and there were extra urban districts in large notches in the
> > crater
> > wall both east and west. A smaller area in the southwestern rim had
> > become a
> > fairly well established military base. It wasn¹t the wholesale
> > requisition
> > that had effectively occurred in Nirgal, but it was still an
> > extensive
> > presence.
> >
> > Here many of the worst of the wounds could be patched up and
everyone
> > could
> > get some R&R. Some of the most critically wounded would never be
> > returning
> > to combat, though the Seige of Sol meant they wouldn¹t be shipping
> > straight
> > home either. They could help out in a desk position or try and find
> > some
> > other job. Young Gary Lewis was talking about becoming a VR pilot
now
> > some
> > of the booster stations along the new Margaritifer Line were up and
> > running
> > again. I didn¹t think he¹d live let alone be thinking of still
> > fighting the
> > Kra¹Vak, but the fight in these kids is amazing.
> >
> > As for me I¹ve chosen to return too. I was given the option of
> > calling it
> > quits after I took the slug to my throat. It went in just under my
> > chin and
> > came back out through my cheek. Busted my jaw up. It still aches a
> > bit, but
> > all is ok now. They even grew me some new teeth. So I¹ll be going
> > back in
> > with the 2/34 when they return to the Tokalau Isthmus.
> >
> > Today however, we have a more solemn purpose. We¹re here to
remember
> > the
> > fallen.
> >
> > We¹re sitting at the top of the parade ground in Camp Henna. I can
> > see
> > crowds of civilians snaking back down the crater wall to the big
> > cathedral
> > down in the old quarter. Martians have such a different take on
> > things. At
> > home there would be black and flowers and tears. Not so here. Well
> > not
> > completely. There will be tears, but the place is a riot of colour.
> > These
> > people come from families used to battling the elements, scraping a
> > living.
> > They celebrate life no matter how short or how it ended.
> >
> > ³Jock.² Iron George nods, as he pulls up a chair by me. He plants
his
> > feet,
> > legs spread akimbo, his walking stick balancing across his knees.
> >
> > ³Guday shir.² I slur, the mobility of my healing jaw still
hindered
> > by the
> > braces clamped around it to hold it in place as it knits.
> >
> > Turning to look at him I can see that Baxter¹s face is ashen, his
> > eyes sharp
> > edged and glittery, his jaw is rolling.
> >
> > ³Shir?²
> >
> > ³Shit start to the day.² He says quietly, eyes locked on to the
far
> > distance. ³Lost Higgs and Al this morning.²
> >
> > ³But I shought Al wash doing well² I protested incredulously.
> >
> > ³Yeah I know. Why the fuck is it always ones with kids?² he asked,
> > raw grief
> > evident in his quiet tone.
> >
> > I didn¹t know what else to say, so we lapsed into silence, there
> > starring
> > off into the distance, consumed by our individual thoughts.
> >
> >			    * * *
> >
> > I first met Sergeant James Wilson Higgs VC in the sandbagged ops
room
> > in the
> > compound at Marin. He had this way of leaning up against the back
> > wall
> > keeping a quiet but vigilant eye on everything. He also seemed to
> > have this
> > sixth-sense of when something was about to go wrong. He could read
> > the real
> > time 3D projections of the battlefield better than anyone else I
> > knew. Iron
> > George included.
> >
> > Some of the feed for the projections came from unmanned drones that
> > roamed
> > overhead, others from sensors on high altitude balloons. For the
very
> > fine
> > scale detail needed in close combat specialist handlers on site
> > released
> > nanite OEmotes¹. When I asked him how he knew he asked if I played
> > music,
> > when I said no, he asked if I water rafted. Again no. He asked if
> > there was
> > anything that I did that was especially my thing. Football is my
> > thing.
> >
> > ³How long¹ve you been playing?²
> >
> > ³Nearly twenty years.²
> >
> > ³Any good?²
> >
> > ³Kinda. Not that skilled.²
> >
> > ³But can you read the play? Know that the opposition is going in
that
> > hole
> > or that your winger will be by the far post?²
> >
> > ³Yeah, I can do that ok.²
> >
> > ³Same thing. You can just read what¹s going to happen, it flows
past
> > and you
> > just feel it. Nothing conscious necessarily, you just know.²
> >
> > Zen battle fighting. ³Very Jedi.²
> >
> > ³Can tell you¹re a lit major mate. I had to watch those things in
> > high
> > school. Remastered but they never really got it, no holo depth at
> > all. Not a
> > patch on Khorramshahr Campaign series. Now that was story telling!²
> > Despite
> > his disparaging words, turns out Sergeant Higgs was an avid vid buff
> > and we
> > spent many hours breaking the boredom of deployment discussing vids
> > or
> > exploring the contents of each other¹s OEcasters.
> >
> > The laid back persona, soft drawl and easy smile hid a fairly
> > serious
> > combatant. A significant asset in the ops room he was also a very
> > professional soldier in the field. I remember one action in the core
> > industrial district to the north of the compound. We would have
> > walked
> > straight into a major ambush if Higgs hadn¹t figured it out and
sent
> > us
> > roofward instead. He got us set up in amongst some energy vanes and
> > put the
> > snipers from recon platoon up on some water towers. Then by
> > jury-rigging a
> > field server he slaved the spec feed and coordinated fire down along
> > about
> > 1500m of the Kra¹Vak¹s planned kill zone. Starting with
coordinated
> > launches
> > of grenades and IAVRs to flush them out of their forward positions
> > and then
> > using SAWs and machine-guns to OEwalk¹ the Kra²Vak back away from
> > our
> > position. When one of the gunners went down he took over that
> > position and
> > still didn¹t miss a beat in his directions. I have this beautiful
> > still of
> > him, feet braced against the building edge, intent expression,
> > mid-command,
> > eyes alive, arms tight as he wrestled the MG, casings collecting in
a
> > small
> > mountain around him.
> >
> > That was an intense firefight. The Kra¹Vak came back in full force,
> > followed
> > close on their heels by the telltale early signs of a major dust
> > storm. We
> > needed to extricate ourselves quickly. Amidst the clouds of dust and
> > enemy
> > fire Higgs called in for an evac by VTOL. It felt like an age later,
> > but was
> > really only minutes when a gunship took up position above us,
sitting
> > up
> > high trying to keep the way clear for a troop-carrying variant of
the
> > Mantis
> > to come in and get us. The Mantis couldn¹t land on the roof - the
> > clear
> > space between the clutter of towers and vanes was too small for its
> > bulkier
> > body. So it came in low and the able bodied had to leap onto a cargo
> > net
> > they¹d rolled out the loading ramp and then clamber up. If that
> > wasn¹t hard
> > enough with the enemy still firing on our position, it was jinking
> > to-and-fro to make it hard for any rocket toting Kra¹Vak. Even the
> > few guys
> > who were hit but still ambulatory went up that way. When it go to
the
> > two
> > seriously wounded though Higgs waved away the cargo net and pointed
> > away
> > back toward the compound. For a heart stopping second I thought he
> > was
> > telling them to leave him and the seriously wounded behind, but then
> > he must
> > have been in direct link with the pilot because the VTOL slid over
to
> > the
> > camp-wise roof edge and hovered landing ramp down, backed into the
> > building.
> > Higgs shouldered the wounded gunner first and then sprinted full
pelt
> > at the
> > VTOL, slugs flying around his high profile, and as he reached the
> > roof edge
> > he kept right on coming, leaping into the VTOL with his final
> > strides. After
> > laying the man on his shoulders in the back of the VTOL, Higgs
turned
> > round
> > and went back for the other man. Sprinting back out of the VTOL,
back
> > across
> > the roof (bent double but still an attractive target), bloody body
> > onto his
> > shoulders and then back again for that final leap onto the VTOL.
Just
> > as his
> > boots hit the ramp we were rocked by some kind of hit and the VTOL
> > whanged
> > into the building hard. I thought we were going down and that the
> > Sergeant
> > would topple out. Instead Higgs hurled himself forward into the body
> > of the
> > transport. He and the man he¹d been carrying ended in a bloody mess
> > by the
> > rear seating, but he¹d saved them from a fall to their deaths. He
> > was
> > quickly on his feet though as it was clear something was badly wrong
> > with
> > the VTOL, which was shuddering and grating against the building.
> > Higgs slid
> > his way back to the loading ramp where the loadmaster was perched on
> > the
> > edge of the ramp, hanging one armed from straps above his head and
> > pointing
> > down off the ramp to the wall. He was obviously yelling, but with
the
> > wall
> > of noise that filled the VTOL I couldn¹t make out what he was
> > saying.
> >
> > To my utter disbelief, Higgs grabbed the MG, slung his feet through
> > the
> > cargo net and then his upper body and the gun disappeared over the
> > edge of
> > the ramp. I could see his body judder, so I guessed he was firing.
> > Five
> > short bursts from what I could tell. The VTOL shot forward, nearly
> > sending
> > Higgs and the net careening out over the ramp, but we were free. The
> > loadmaster and Pancho pulled Higgs back in as we rose and then
> > zigzagged our
> > way between buildings back to the compound. Just watching that my
> > heart was
> > racing so hard I never thought it¹d settle again.
> >
> > When we were back in the relative safety of the camp and the noise
> > was
> > confined to the usual raucous discussions and the background thud of
> > explosions and mortar fire I sought out the loadmaster and asked
what
> > Higgs
> > had done. Turns out the VTOL had been snagged on a fire escape so
> > Higgs had
> > used the MG to shear the balustrade clean off. I asked Higgs about
it
> > later
> > too, he shrugged it off and simply said. ³You just get in and get
> > shit
> > done.²
> >
> > Losing Higgs meant that 2/34 was bereft of perhaps its finest
> > soldier. To my
> > mind at least they were all astounding, but Higgs was exceptional.
> > This war
> > was marked by any number of souls willing to put life on hold to rid
> > us of
> > the Kra¹Vak, this saw a level of dedication and on-going morale
that
> > made
> > them the embodiment of professional soldiers.
> >
> >			    * * *
> >
> > ³Looks like we¹re on lad.² Baxter¹s words pulled me back from my
> > thoughts.
> > The Lt Col had risen to his feet and was watching his troops form up
> > to lead
> > the parade of mourners down to the memorial service in the
cathedral.
> > I rose
> > and turned to make my way over to where the civilian marchers were
> > gathering.
> >
> > ³No son. Come and with us², I looked at Baxter quizzically. ³You
> > earned your
> > place.² I was humbled and honoured to the point my throat
constricted
> > and I
> > couldn¹t say a word.
> >
> > Following Baxter I moved over to the 2/34. He broke off to take up
> > his
> > position at the front, whereas I hung back intending to hide away
> > amongst
> > the rear ranks. I noticed a clutch of colt-limbed troops, laughing
> > and
> > wrestling over some hidden prize and darted over for a quick look.
> > There was
> > Turps, in a hover chair. He¹d been hit during the attack and had
lost
> > both
> > his legs to a direct strike from a rocket while he¹d been manning
the
> > heavy
> > MG in a sanger on the roof of the compound. He¹d been little more
> > than a
> > rag-doll torso when he¹d been airlifted out with almost no chance
of
> > survival. While he was still a little pale he seemed a long way from
> > the
> > maimed corpse-like body I had seen carried aboard the airship only a
> > few
> > weeks before. The friends he hadn¹t seen since were coming up,
> > clapping him
> > on the shoulder or tousling his hair. As ever he was talking fast to
> > all
> > around him, joking, showing off his new implants and graft points.
> >
> > ³They reckon it¹ll be about another seven weeks before the grafts
are
> > fully
> > prepped and then snap they just click in my new legs² he said,
> > cavalierly
> > clicking his fingers with a big grin. ³They reckon I could even do
> > the carta
> > course for the forward combat artillery corp, get some mecha-link
> > points.²
> > His excitement was palpable. Instead of death or becoming a crippled
> > shell
> > he was actually turning his misfortune into an opportunity.
> > OEGetting
> > grafted¹ may be accepted part of some cultures now, but it¹s still
> > typically
> > not a life style choice too many in the main stream opt to follow.
> > For one,
> > it is typically prohibitively expensive, unless you do it for a job
> > or
> > you¹re willing to run the risk of lower grade goods. However, the
war
> > had
> > created a demand for OEenhanced¹ bodies on the front line, in some
of
> > the
> > most extreme environments. Consequently if you were willing, and
> > deemed
> > suitable, the options before you ran from the full spectrum from
> > OEminimal
> > enhancement¹ to OEcomplete conversion¹.
> >
> > ³And see this?² Turps said leaning forward and showing off a scar
> > running up
> > the back of his shaved head and in behind his ear. ³Neural graft
and
> > rear
> > attachment for my new eye. How¹s this for freaky?² he glared
almost
> > imperceptibly and his pupil dilated and took on the hint of a dull
> > almost
> > black-red glow. CEV. Cybernetically enhanced vision. It seems he
> > wasn¹t
> > missing a trick. ³Oh nice frilly bra Cath² he said with a grin.
> >
> > ³I¹ll still knock your block off Turps, if you don¹t behave
> > yourself!² That
> > brought hearty laughs all round. This is perhaps one of the moments
> > that
> > exemplify this current war with the Kra¹Vak for me. It has been a
> > long hard
> > war. Its not just a conflict on some far off world between
> > mercenaries and
> > career professional soldiers, all boxed up and nice. It is dirty,
> > frightening, horrific and universal. Yet it appears that our will is
> > universal too. Despite all that they have experienced they can still
> > laugh,
> > feel the exhilaration of survival. Yes they are mightily aggrieved
> > over the
> > mates lost or injured, but they get on more determined than ever.
> > They say
> > their own kind of goodbyes, tell the odd joke, clean their weapons
> > and get
> > ready to go out and kill some more of those xenobastards.
> >
> > With a whistle from the CSM, all grew quiet and solemn and lined up
> > ready to
> > move out. The parade moved slowly down the ribbon of onlookers, who
> > clapped
> > and cheered, augmenting the beat of the military band. Then one of
> > those odd
> > Martian song-chants began - the words indistinguishable, but
> > beginning low
> > and maudlin, but slowly growing to fill you with a thrumming buzz of
> > excitement.
> >
> > Once down in the Cathedral a familiar mix of funeral rituals were
> > played out
> > in honour of the latest group of fallen, to provide safe passage for
> > their
> > spirits and solace to the living. For some there were songs, others
> > dances
> > or symbolic rites, for many there were eulogies. Some sorrowful,
some
> > darkly
> > humourous, most delivered by steel-eyed, rigid-jawed friends who
> > chokingly
> > tripped over feelings that went unspoken in life. People who had
> > been
> > inseparably tight knit, eating, sleeping, drinking, laughing
together
> > now
> > dealing with being the remaining individual. Many hinted at grief to
> > come
> > when the fighting was all done.
> >
> > By the end of the service there was a strange mix of celebration and
> > hard
> > knots around your heart. I had been crying and looking to my left I
> > saw that
> > even Baxter had let a single tear run down his lined face. Looking
> > right I
> > spotted the CSM as he rose to speak, but his eyes were dry and his
> > face was
> > set in a mask of anger. He walked stiffly to the front, back ramrod
> > straight. Turning sharply he gripped the podium straight armed,
> > white
> > knuckled, looking fixedly at his page before raising his head and
> > explaining
> > how this was the ³campaign of their lives², that he was
³immensely
> > fuckin¹
> > proud of the courage they¹d all shown², that ³each death is a
hole in
> > our
> > hearts that would never heal² and finally that ³they have not left
> > us, they
> > will be with us on each patrol and will stand behind us a silent
> > source of
> > inspiration as we keep fighting the Krek scum². Until then I¹d
> > forgotten
> > that Private Mitchell Clarke, killed by a Kra¹Vak slug to the
throat,
> > had
> > been the already much decorated teenage son of the CSM. The lanky,
> > blonde
> > maned and always smiling kid had been so different to the
> > bull-necked,
> > tattooed and severe CSM, but he was a son who wouldn¹t be going
home;
> > a son
> > who would be mourned deeply.
> >
> > The last to speak was Iron George, his deep gravely voice forcefully
> > filling
> > the cathedral. "They died as soldiers choose to die. Boots on, guns
> > hot,
> > shoulder-to-shoulder with their mates, defending our homes from an
> > enemy
> > that would consume us and end us once and for all. In the years to
> > come, in
> > the quiet moments of the day we will remember them. We will mourn
> > them
> > properly. For now though we have to continue the fight. We must
> > continue to
> > walk out and fight so that those who died did not die in vain. Our
> > mission
> > to clear the Kra¹Vak paitya from under every rock on Tokalau and
from
> > there
> > the solar system and form there the Outworlds. The fallen we honour
> > today
> > would not have wanted it any other way. "
> >
> > I stayed in the background the rest of the day, watching, listening
> > to the
> > men and women, young and old, share their stories, share their
grief.
> > What I
> > heard confirmed something I had long suspected. I had heard tales
> > from my
> > own father, who¹d served on Bradley in 2179, and I was on Kayleigh
as
> > a
> > young TSNN correspondent in 2181 when Vortsheimer was over run by
the
> > LLAR
> > mercenaries. Neither was a patch on this fight. This was a new kind
> > of war.
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > _______________________________________________
> > Gzg-l mailing list
> > Gzg-l@mail.csua.berkeley.edu
> > http://mail.csua.berkeley.edu:8080/mailman/listinfo/gzg-l
> >
> >
> >
>
>
>
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