Appendix A

Base assault maps

Appendix B

Gen assault maps


Appendix C

Tower assault maps


Appendix D

Backdoor Maps


Appendix E

Base Names Origins


Appendix F

Military Quotes


Appendix G

Web Links


Appendix H



Appendix I

WNx Information


Appendix J








Appendix H

TS troubleshooting

Appendix H


       Sadly, there was no report from the rear


       There was no hope in getting any information in time to have any affect on the 'game' anyway.  So instead of moving forward, or digging in, or running like hell, we waited.  Waited, for the word that would never come.  The rear troops had already been slaughtered.  No messenger was ever dispatched to warn the now worthless front line, that it was no longer either a front or even a line anymore.  Just a target to be aimed at, taken out, and disposed of.


       So they waited for orders that came too late.  With enemy forces on all sides there was little left to do but dig in, burn their rank insignia and prepare to die.  Death was nothing new to this group.  They'd seen it too many times by now.  Friends, commanders, enemy, even their own deaths from their own point of view had been relived over and over, thousands of times by now.  The science they didn't understand properly put to work for the good of mankind.  Mankind was no longer either however.


       'you will never get used to your own death'


       They'd taught us in basic.  Just the words seemed odd.  Just the thought of using yourself as collateral in a bigger war to the very last second.  To delay the oncoming enemy from some piece of equipment.  The soldier himself was that piece of equipment to the Commanders.  Like tanks, weapons, and the bases themselves, the men were merely material to be moved around the battlefield, and when lost or injured, replaced,  Often by the same men who fell to begin with.  It’s one thing to see your own death from your own eyes, but if you are lucky enough to pass by your previous corpse then it’s truly a chilling site.  You are the ghost walking over his own grave, over, and over again.


       'You will however begin to fear nothing'


       I never really feared nothing.  Nothing never bothered me much, it was the Something hiding behind the nothing that I seriously had a problem with.  Because I learned at a very young age, back when I was still 100% me, and not a matrix of a clone of someone who had parents and a family, that there was ALWAYS something behind what appeared to be nothing.  I've been shot, stabbed, crushed, fallen off buildings, cliffs, dropped from aircraft, lost at sea.  I've been killed by countless enemies, by numerous friendlies, and sometimes from myself to escape the inescapable.


       'there is no escape from this planet, or this fight.'


       Stuck on a rock, fighting over smaller parts of that rock, for eternity, was insanity.  IF we had known that the technology would prevent us EVER from passing from this world to the next, I doubt any of us would have let them embed us with the first matrixing chips to begin with.  The dual promise and curse of immortality created a endless fighting resource that thought and reacted better than any AI they tried to bring to the field.  They toyed with technology they did not fully understand, and now the undead battle for control of lost Eden, forever.     


       'and you will fight.'


       We fought, not knowing exactly who we were anymore.  Maybe that was part of the original plan, to slowly strip away our identities as we died over and over until all that was left was the machine that was once the man.  This vehicle to which my conscience is attached is no longer what I thought it once was.  A clockwork heart now beats under this chest, to replace the real one.  And I Want to remember this fight, this abandoning here at this nameless hill, fighting for this awkwardly named base.  But once I'm gone, the memories of these events will go with them.  Like the dreams we never dream anymore on this planet of perpetual daylight. There’s no real need for dreams anyway, there's no point of reference other than war to judge them by.


       Every time I came 'Back' I lost some more of myself, some little nameless thing that was coded deep in my brain.  Something that could NOT be digitized. I don't remember my own name anymore, the names of my children that have long since passed to dust a hundred years ago on my home world whose name I also have forgotten.  Some day this may all end, and one side will push the other two off the rock, and into the sea, and then perhaps they will let me live or die at my own choosing.  That day, on this planet of endless days, is still so very far off though, and many more will have to die to get there, and many of them, I fear,  will be me.


       'and you will die...'


       ‘Enemy spotted, south ridge, 100 meters out and closing in a loose formation, we’ll need to either find cover or fall back.’  Jak was still thinking about the words from his trainer when the forward scout came back with the information he already knew was coming.  He quickly scanned the close hillside looking for any type of cover.  They were spread out near the foot of mount cyssor, an unremarkable oversized hill jutting out from the center of the continent with the same name.  With no tree line, and little brush there was hardly anywhere to hold.


       He was beginning to formulate a last stand maneuver where three or four of the squad would lay down suppression fire so that the rest could escape.  The ones who stayed of course would be eventually wiped out by grenade fire while buying time for the rest to flee.  Even in a world where you never truly died, it was never an easy decision to order them to ‘go down fighting’  The order had to come, the commander  couldn't stay to help.  He needed to be with the squad till the end.  So they fell back, except for the men he chose, to die.  The last he saw from the distance, as the enemy quickly engulfed them was that they never stopped firing.  Until they were dead.


       ‘and you WILL die’ he muttered to himself turning his back on them and moving with what was left of his squad.


       The enemy paused to make sure the job was done, and quickly realizing that there must be more they began to fan out into the surrounding area looking for the rest of the team they had chased this way.  The three that had paid with their lives, albeit renewable ones, had only given the squad a few extra minutes headway.  The team scrambled over the rocky base looking for anywhere to hide or prepare in any way for the fight heading towards them.  Some rain started to fall and a wind blew in rustling the trees in the distance that were too far away for cover, as if mocking them.  It was then, however, that they found it. 


       As they foraged for anyplace to dig in for their last stand, they found it.  And with nowhere else to go, and no winnable fight to be had, they took the only way out they now had.  The markings were unknown, none of the soldiers knew how to read Vanu anyway, but it didn’t matter.  Because in the end, no matter what the strange symbols spelled out, the real meaning was safety.  They pushed the rock aside revealing a near vertical drop into the mountainside plummeting down into the darkness.  Some strange mechanism inside the mouth of the tunnel rolled the rock back in place and locked it tight with two large silver bolts that hummed.  The enemy never found them.  The real question now was.  Would anyone.


Next up:  Episode Two:  the Truth in the Technology




When the Days have no Nights & the Knights have no Dreams.

Episode one:  The Endless


The Squad