Captain Forsyth: A Letter

An ongoing letter from Captain Henry Forsyth (Royal Engineers) to his brother.

The Most Damnable Hunting Trip

My Dear Clarence,

It’s been quite the whirlwind, so I may have to step through a few episodes with less than my usual attention to detail.

Having been relieved of command of Fort McMurray, I together with Professor Wilheim and the ever stoic Hartwell were ‘invited’ to take ship for Moerus Lacus. It was clearly not an option and both Wilheim and I were frustrated at not being allowed to hand things over, or indeed have any contact with our replacements. Given the trials we’ve had in the under croft and indeed at large, I fear something quite nasty could occur without this simple expediency.

Still the General clearly had orders, which doesn’t bode well.

Dr. Phipps was AWOL. What an earth had got into the man. I fear he might be off pursuing that brazen hussy!

As our ship steamed away and dusk descended, I caught a flash of light on the horizon. It could only be another ship and the only one that would have reflected that way, would be the German zeppelin of Count Overbearing.

I reported this to the watch, who were both complacent and indifferent, they claimed their usual vigil would be enough. So, us three determined to keep our own watch in turn.

Our equipment was taken from us and stowed. Naturally as an officer I was permitted to keep my sidearm. However, the good professor was most aggrieved and severely put out. After all, I was the only one travelling under sufferance, the others by more of a voluntary nature, although options had been in short supply. It was unclear whether the captain was acting under orders or had taken the action on his own authority.

I must advise Wilheim on the etiquette of command, especially aboard ship, where the captain’s word is law.

The question became a little overblown over dinner which was taken in the officer’s mess and the captain retired to dine alone.

Our vigil proved very necessary, as while I slept one of the others came down for a changing of the guard. Here he noticed a sentry placed on the door stores (sadly posted following Wilheim’s outburst) slumped and asleep at his post.

Waking me, it rapidly transpired that the whole crew, plus Jones and the captain were in some kind of deep sleep from which they could not be roused.

Only us gallant 3 and the 2 ships officers that remained to dine with us were conscious.

As we headed above decks, we heard Belltower and Le Blanc. By the time we were on deck they had made their escape by means of the same device I saw before at the frightful end of the Red Sands and were descending harmlessly to the ground below.

Strangely there were flares glued all about the sides with some substance we couldn’t budge. The flares were lit, so the ship must have looked like a birthday cake, but it was clearly lighting us up as a target.

The engine slowed and I raced down with a ships officer, it had been fatally sabotaged.

Sure enough, that darned zep appeared. We were a sitting duck, but had a quack or two left in us.

In confirmation of what I’d suspected, they fired a rocket at us. It was the same munitions that we’d got at the fort, long since captured, but these had fins and appeared to fly far truer.

We still had control of altitude and I ordered an immediate heart sinking drop of 30 feet.

It worked; the missile flew just overhead!

But they fired again and this time we were not so lucky and took a shot on the bows. Thankfully it was not fatal. But we were not idle either. Without crew the big guns take time to load, but now I’d got a Hotchkiss ready to go and returned fire. I doubt I did any damage of note, but we were fighting back.

Another rocket missed and our forward cannon fired, Wilheim at work, again a hit but to little effect.

Hartwell was showing some signs of understanding the ship and was assisting in keeping some semblance of control.

But it was clear the cowards had no stomach for a fight, we weren’t the lame ducks they were obviously expecting. They took off into the night. I’d have dearly loved to give them a parting shot, but without a crew the cannon took far too long to reload.

So, my dear brother, potentially we have an act of war. Deliberately and without warning, firing on one her Majesty’s warships going about its legal business. Witnessed by two naval officers.

Germany is either going to disown Count Overblown or we are at war!

We put the crippled ship down best we could in the wilderness. Thankfully the crew and Jones has just been drugged and all made a full recovery.

Unable to steer, we used the ships buoyancy and floated on the wind, a very strange sight to those on the ground, I’m sure.

We drifted very close to the canal. From there we three plus Jones were able to hire passage back to Moerus Lacus. The crew and officers chose to remain with their ship.

An encounter with river pirates, proved fatal to them. I don’t quite speak the language, but if I didn’t know better, I swear I heard traces of a Cornish accent.

That news seemed to be ahead of us, we were greeted with cheers at docking. But whisked off by ‘a guard of honour’, to seemingly house arrest.

I met a charming chap, who’s assigned to my defence, but it’s still unclear what the hell is happening. Darned Lloyd-Carter woman has made of bunch of accusations, all trumped up nonsense of course, but I’m not sure there is any military authority to her case.

Then there came this timely invite to Hartwell to go on a hunt, with friends. The establishment have been tying themselves in knots. It’s frankly tedious. It was a court martial, except it’s clear that the evidence was not there and it’d be very dangerous ground to allow a civilian to trigger one.

Now it’s an enquiry. I am confident I can defend my character, but regret that it may not go so well for my accuser. But if one will set themselves up as judge and jury, they may get what they deserve.

I confess I now find the woman quite detestable.

Hartwell, who is called ‘Steppe Tiger’ among the natives, received an invite to a hunt from a wealthy Martian prince who had heard of his reputation. I am sure I have told you before that Hartwell killed one of these legendary beasts, who are the primary hunters here on Mars, with a single shot, saving to a man the patrol he was leading.

An aide to the governor suggested this would be a good thing and get us out of the city, so the controversy over my ‘hearing’ could die down. I’d no idea what the man was talking about! He did try to explain that on the one hand I’m seen as some kind of hero for my defence of Fort McMurray and then that blasted journalist woman has painted me as villain for doing my duty.

He said tensions were running high and it would be good if I wasn’t about in the short term to allow matters to cool.

So, we accepted the invitation, Wilheim and I on the coattails of Hartwell.

The princes yacht whisked us of to his manor, a day from British territory.

He was most hospitable and the first hunt flew us to familiar planes.

He insisted we use black powder weapons, those belonging to his father, which I found a little excentric.

Hartwell had a bit of a moment, when having done well, his rument baer was fatally injured by the tiger we happened on and fell.

He used the downed beast as cover. But then left himself exposed in trying to get a decent shot.

Worse the tiger was not alone, it had a mate, which was charging in from cover.

I had to get my shot right. I’m most pleased to report that I did and downed the male tiger with a single shot even with the antique weapon I been handed.

The mate went a trifle rabid and attacked Wilhelms mount, only for the huge beast to trample it underfoot into a mush.

I had the honour of the kill and had I been able to reclaim it, which later events made difficult, a very fine pelt.

Next came a hunt for a ‘deadly’ serpent, in a swamp, one I’m familiar with. This time we had only spears. We tracked the thing to its lair and it came out threatening the Prince and Hartwell, at which point I marched up and lanced it through. It really was child’s play.

Again, I had the honour of the hunt. However, the prince’s demeanour was becoming increasingly bellicose. It was clear that he’d expected to triumph in the hunts and while superficially being gracious, it clearly irked him.

More however, his questioning directed at Hartwell was becoming odious. He asked many questions about local politics and situations which poor Hartwell was clearly at a loss about. Had I not been a guest, I believe I would have called the blighter out.

The next hunt and what was billed as the last, on the prince’s estate this time.

Again, we used black powder weapons, this time flintlock pistols. We did, at my insistence get a vest that allowed us to carry 6 of the things in a primed position.

What we were up against was some form of giant scorpion, the size of a horse, that could apparently turn invisible. The prince only told us the last of the information at the last minute, with an apparent confession, that he’d lured us to this point all along and that the creature was ravaging his estate. He seemed to imply that he had wanted help in dealing with it.

We descended a slope to be confronted with a couple of caves on the other side of the valley, the lair of the beast.

Clearly trying to beard the beast in its lair felt like a fatal action. Our advantage lay in the open.

I arranged for the prince’s bearers to bring dry scrub from the top of the escarpment we had descended and set a smoke heavy fire at the mouth of the most likely cave.

Sure enough, we smoked the monster out. This time it was as billed and more. I fired as true as possible, a shot I’m sure would have taken down a tiger. Yet the musket ball merely bounced off its caprice, as did others.

Then it disappeared! So, the description was true!

We’d clearly need different weapons to flintlock’s; I began backing up the party in an orderly retreat.

Wilheim had the technology that he knew where the monster was, ironically developed to counter Belltower. He was able to shout out its location.

Then, I do declare the most remarkable thing I have ever witnessed occurred. Hartwell, I can only assume goaded by the princes taunting, recklessly and in complete abandon charged the monsters location. It looked like certain death; I had momentary images of Waldmart, also charging recklessly to his doom.

Hartwell had drawn the short sword we were all armed with. He swung blind and wild. It was as I believe the modern expression goes ‘a shot to nothing’.

I ask how do hit something you hit can’t see? How do you face something considerably larger than you close up? How do you hurt something so heavily armoured?

It was entirely improbable. Yet somehow Hartwell’s wild lunge went home. The beast reappeared as it fell to the ground, killed outright.

As you know I’ve seen many remarkable acts of bravery and daring do. Fogg killing a raptor bare handed comes to mind. But this I do declare, tops anything I’ve ever seen. Most remarkable!

We were again feted by the prince that evening with a banquet in Hartwell’s honour.

The prince returned to his petty taunting of Hartwell, although I felt with not the same conviction. The staff were certainly in obvious awe of the man.

Then I regret to report that everything became rather different.

That evening we were drugged. We awoke in the bottom of what I took to be some sort of grain store with the merest undergarment to preserve modesty, but still in our boots. I imagine the latter being due to some imagined smell were they to be removed.

Our hands had all been entrapped within a claw, in such a way that we could not articulate our fingers. So basically, we could not use our hands as anything but claws.

It gave me a moment to pause. We use our hands for all things, it’s separates us from the beasts and to be denied their use was unsettling and immediately placed us at a huge disadvantage.

The gloating prince, from an elevated advantage, now declared us the hunted. He confessed to being a ground cleanser and had bought in a couple of cronies, clearly well to do, to join him.

A door opened, we were permitted a head start. Clearly this had been the purpose all along. For some reason, this deluded individual had to prove himself superior to everyone.

He stated that if we could reach beyond the limits of his estate, we’d be free to go. I didn’t believe him. I doubt there was any circumstance he which he could let us go given the hand he’d just played.

We were out in the jungle around the palace. We felt our best chance was to stay close to the palace with a view to getting back in there and our equipment.

We cut a path though with the ‘claws’ parallel to the wall. The Green Kobo snake dropped on us several times, but was relatively easy to deal with our ‘claws’.

We managed to avoid a deadly giant insect hive. But set up a trap, trying to look like we’d walked into it, in the hope that if the hunters followed us they would.

Meanwhile we carefully moved through the jungle to the side, trying to leave no trace.

We were circulating the palace wall looking for a weak point.

We didn’t initially spot one, but eventually our round about tour bought us to the ravines.

Here we set false trails leading down the escarpment in the hope of misleading our hunters.

We re-entered the jungle about the fort.

Then something rather unexpected happened.

A gentleman appeared out of the ground! Rather dishevelled he quickly called us into his little underground hide. He was an archaeologist that had become stranded on the estate, realised the true nature of the prince and managed to hide himself. It seems we were not the first to be hunted.

It was a remarkable feat of endurance and survival. Mr. Wiseman was able to remove our claws, but before we could we find out more or make plans, we heard beaters thrashing about nearby. I didn’t much like our odds if we were caught in a hole in the ground, so we burst forth, took the blighters by surprise and they met their deserved end, quickly and quietly.

After taking their weapons, we hid the bodies, but it seemed like they were not being followed by the main hunting party.

We improvised the claws into spears and made our way to the gate house as it started to go dark. There were two sentries posted on a ledge above the gate. Wilhelm, whom I must say is rather good at these things and I, improvised a grappling hook from a couple of the claws and a rope from the vines. Some large leaves were used to muffle any sound from the metallic claws.

After it was fully dark, I cast the grappling hook onto the ledge and ascended. Catching the sentries, as well as I hoped by surprise, I was able to launch a spear into one and be in close quarters with the other, before he knew what was happening.

Having cleared the ledge, the others were able to climb up safely.

We descended a staircase on the other side into the courtyard and entered the palace by a side door. This bought us into the kitchen where we startled a servant. Thankfully he was so in awe of Hartwell that he fed us and gave us some idea of the layout of the palace, although not that much.

We explored the rooms where we had stayed, but all our equipment had been taken. We found the guest quarters, where the princes cronies were staying in most lavish style. We found his antique weapons store, but with no ammunition it was useless to us.

Then we found the Major-domos’ rooms where Wilhelm discovered the large mirror had a catch revealing a secret closet behind it. Wherein a set of keys was found.

This gave us access to the princes’ quarters which we’d been unable to enter as they were locked. We discovered a secret tunnel, which led to a position behind a large mirror in the princess’s chamber from which the room could be observed and accessed. It then went up and did the same behind the guest rooms. As well as deranged, this so-called prince, was clearly perverted as well!

Then came the worst of all discoveries, a secret chamber that held indescribable horror. It is what I would take to be the princes trophy room. Yet those trophies are human heads, male and female, it seems he does not discriminate. Worse of all there were corpses that had been embalmed and displayed like animals, a man and a woman indecently exposed.

It was little consolation that all our equipment had been dumped on a table in this room. Clearly, we were supposed to join this ‘collection’. Dressed again in uniform, I felt I could better deal with this horror. Wilhelm was once again a force to be reckoned with and Hartwell had already told the prince that he would be standing over his dead body.

One disadvantage was the prince had taken my Winchester.

Now we knew where the secrets might lie, we set about exploring the place again. We found another secret passage that allowed access to every guest room again behind a mirror.

Finally, a passage to the walkway above the grain silo, where the prince had taunted us less than a day before.

But we’d taken too long, an alarm was being sounded, guards were coming into the main hall. We headed out through the kitchen, blocking the door. Probably we’d have been better dealing with the small number and then creating a pinch point at the doorway.

But we didn’t know the numbers and if they’d burst in from the yard, then maybe that was empty. Giving us opportunity to escape.

It wasn’t.

We walked into a fire fight. The initial half dozen was enough to slow us down, then more arrived.

We were tired and rather unnerved about what we’d seen in the trophy room. We’d barely got our usual weapons and these guards proved a distinct cut above what we’ve faced before.

In short order Hartwell and I were seriously wounded, Wilhelm wounded and Jones was down. We’d taken a few of them in return, but only something miraculous was going to save us. That something was someone, Wilhelm, who was able to use his teleport device to haul us all out of there. We went to the prince’s chamber knowing the guards couldn’t access it and it would give us some temporary respite.

Wilhelm used his marvellous healing mask and Hartwell and I were back in rude health in no time. Jones however was an invalid but had at least survived.

Guards were stationed about the palace. We tried to ambush these coming out of different doors and using the secret passages to effect, while I think we whittled down the enemy, it wasn’t decisive. Clearly the prince had some good officers, who positioned their men to good effect.

Then the prince and his party returned. That would mean added firepower and of course he would know the secret passages so our advantage there was lost.

We were in danger of becoming entrapped. But Wilhelm still had a card to play. He could move us somewhere close again. We discussed exiting outside the palace, but that would have just started the hunt all over again. Plus, if the wind was anyway near right the princes’ yacht, granted just an airborne, sail ship could have tracked us and possibly attacked us from the air.

We decided that was the key, the yacht had bought us here and now we needed it to take us out. Which of course they weren’t going to do voluntarily.

We teleported to the deck, predictably a firefight broke out, which we were ready for. While we took a steady toll on the Martians, Wilhelm also got himself badly shot up. He looked like he was done for, serving as long I have you recognise these things.

Hartwell had rushed up to assist, but chose to deal with another Martian instead. At this point, after half his crew had gone down, the captain saw sense and gave in to my demands to surrender and take us back to civilisation.

Belatedly Hartwell tried to use Wilhelms’ own healing device on him, but none have us have any idea how it works. But the thing fizzed, sparked remarkably and smoked a lot, Wilhelms body jerked and as he gasped an unexcepted deep breath the machine sputtered, fizzed again, appeared to let out a moan and fell to his side.

But Wilhelm was alive. His miraculous device was no longer. I have no idea about this very modern and unusual school of science, but do wonder if Wilhelm had somehow invested a part of himself in the device, that somehow came back to him in his greatest hour of need.

We were sailing back calmly without incident, when the captain and crew decided to try and rebel. It was short and disastrous. My guess is that they ground cleansers too, they were certainly loyal to the prince. Perhaps they just didn’t believe my word, this branch of Martians doesn’t keep to theirs.

In the fallout we crashed. The Martian crew were all killed. We suffered various wounds, but most sadly I regret to inform you that Jones was killed in the crash. Jones was an exceptional character; he was a bit of a chancer and could go where gentlemen could not. He made himself useful, would attempt to use his language skills in my service for example.

He had a knack with many things and he’s the one that got us out of being prisoners in Sashtapsh.

A rogue to some extent, but utterly loyal. He will be much missed.

Now we are mountain territory, with still a long way to go.

Long live the Empress, here’s to ‘life on Mars’ and may our family prosper,

Yours Faithfully,

Henry

Episode 58: the Great Escape

The heroes' whispered conference in Prince's bedroom was suddenly broken up by arrival of troops in-theatre.

Palace guards. Well-armed palace guards. An elaborate ambush plan was formulated and executed using the secret accessway between the Prince's Apartments, the princess' apartments and the various honoured guest suites. Two guards were dispatched by this strategy, but the rest became alerted and they formed a double line of spearmen.

The heroes decided to engage openly and did fairly well despite rounds of black powder pistol rounds zinging about their ears, but eventually they decided to withdraw when even more guards appeared on the scene, this time armed with muskets.

The arrival of the Prince with his three High Martian guests caused a re-assesment of the situation and the team withdrew and hurriedly discussed options.

These boiled down to staying and fighting by attempting to raid the armoury and using whatever they could find there (a plan complicated by the fact that none of them had ever been to the armoury and did not know where it was), escaping to the outside, taking the obviously newly-returned Ruumet Breehr herd and making for the mountains, or boarding the prince's kite and attempting to steal it.

The team debated for a short while, then settled for the "kite" plan, and so Wilhelm teleported them to the deck of the vessel.

This proved to be something of a mis-step as the crew, although caught on their collective back foot by the arrival of the Earthmen in a ball of green lightning, proved unwilling to meekly turn over the vessel and a pitched battle broke out on the deck.

A hail of gunfire from the crew in response to the Earthmen's own volleys, along with savage hand-to-hand attacks ensued and the casualties were high on both sides.

Jones was killed outright. Forsyth was wounded, and Wilhelm was thought lost to two rounds of terribly effective swordplay and pistol work, but by some miracle his healing device must have been damaged in the fray and it exploded, bathing the hapless inventor in coruscating green energies. The team thought that to be the certain end of their friend, but it seemed the device had actually saved Wilhelm's life, though it left him in a piteous state and the device that had saved their bacon so many times in he past was unsalvagable.

The crew, however, had lost half their number and Forsyth's second demand that they surrender was, finally, grudgingly honoured.

The heroes took up what stations they could to make up for crew losses, and the sullen crew manned the tops, allowing the heroes to escape the Prince and his vile Ground Cleanser friends.

Sadly, halfway back to civilization, the crew mutinied, revoking their parole, and in the ensuing rebellion managed to crash the ship, wrecking her beyond repair. Though the heroes survived the crash with no further injuries, they came to to find no remaining Martians alive in the wreckage, and no immediate way of continuing their journey.

Captain Forsyth: A Letter

Finale at the Fort

The plains incident required further investigation, which happened the following day. With other duties dealt with, I could now lead a patrol in person. The site wielded no new information. The bodies of the Martian warriors had been recovered.

We were able to identify the boot prints of the of ‘causer of chaos’, which abruptly ended, nothing more.

Now I have to recall even more oddities.

It was clear that we had an adversity who could do remarkable things. It seemed like he could teleport as can indeed the great Wilheim. I would add that without this most esteemed worthy on our side, I believe our predicament would be even more dire.

Our learned professor was, indeed is, of the opinion that this was not teleport. What else, had the fellow somehow made himself invisible, footprints and all? Dr. Phipps was convinced that he had teleported.

Who was this new strange character who so threatened to drag us into yet more confrontations? More however, how do you track down a foe that can’t be seen?

This was a question only Wilhelm could resolve. Of course, he came up with the goods, excellent chap that he is. Not before another small incident.

I will first have to explain that Wilhelm has created a most remarkable hat, a rather singular invention. It has eyeglasses that usually sit on the brim, but can be bought down and allows him to see all sorts of things that we would normally miss. A little like me using my trusty telescope, except so much more so.

He’s picked up footprints for example that I’d not been able to see.

Then there are these weird little ear trumpets on each side which again sit above the brim and come down with him seeming doing nothing. Heaven knows what else is going on with the contraption, but the results are darned impressive I can tell you. It does all look a trifle weird, but that’s these strange scientists for you.

Wilhelm’s device picked up a conversation, I’m not sure he fully understood why, there was a lot of subsequent muttering by the said worthy and he went off in short order with the hat clutched tightly in one hand and his tool kit in the other.

But first he related what he’d heard. A conversation between the notorious, so-called professor Belltower and a female rebuking him for his actions. It was clear that they were both in the employ of Stapsash and intent on the destruction of the fort.

No doubt you’ve heard of the shadowy figure of Belltower and his supposed powers. Well, I can tell the rumours are true and far short of the reality.

Now we had some unknown lady berating him and she was able to do that, then who on earth (well mars) was she?

Clearly, we had most formidable enemies, but how to find them, how do you track an invisible man?

Wilhelm had the answer and set about creating a new device.

Meanwhile, we recalled that a Mr. Bell or Belltower had been involved with some kind of fraud scheme. Carter-Lloyd had written an article on the affair. However, when approached she was surly, uncooperative and seemed strangely almost wanton.

My sympathy is somewhat waning.

Wilhelm finished his device and it had somewhat unexpected results. Not strictly the purpose it was designed for, but in short order it picked up the existence of a number of listening devices planted about the fort.

The adobe construction of the fort means that unfortunately it is easy to hollow out a section from either outside or in. The first device we found was in the officer’s mess. The hollowed-out niche was covered with painted canvas. It wasn’t easy to spot, but once you’d seen it, it became obvious.

We checked all strategic locations and every key one had one of these devices including my own office, damn the cad! (Pardon my language.)

But we were most careful in removing the things, with no comments or words spoken. Ha, our intent was to turn the table. Only Belltower could have made these things. Wilheim felt the transmission range had to limited, so there might be a repeater device or he would have to be close.

We placed the devices (there were 6 in total) carefully in separate unused rooms, briefed the officers and NCO’s, then held inane conversations in the rooms to replicate the regular chatter that would have occurred, where they were originally placed.

The plan was to avoid alerting Belltower that his devices had been discovered and eventually provide false information that would draw him into a trap.

However, events moved too quickly for the plan to be implemented.

There was a crazy incident with Phipps.

He seemed back to normal after a long spell in a coma. We were all eager to show him the more recent discoveries in the under croft. As a man of intellect, we hoped he may have some insight we’d missed.

We got to our last point of call, what I would take to be seat of control in a hall of vast electrics. The rest of us had tried sitting here and tried interpreting things without success. But we all felt that somehow it had given us an insight into matters we were considering.

Phipps was sceptical, which was reasonable and consequently asked Wilhelm to sit in the chair to prove it was safe. The professor duly obliged with no effect as we knew there wasn’t going to be one.

This was the point when Phipps became unhinged. He accused us all of being on some ‘ampere trip’ or under the influence of some ‘mind control’. I hadn’t got a clue what the fellow was talking about.

Then he whips out a syringe places it at Wilhelms throat, claims he’s in charge and demanded I hand-over my side arm!

Well, that was never going to happen. Apart from the afront, it would have meant handing over command to Phipps, who was clearly not himself.

No, my duty was clear, in no manner could I hand over command to someone showing such irrational behaviour. What emotions I went through!

Was my dear friend Phipps about to kill my dear friend Wilhelm?

Just when it seemed my only option was to take a shot and hope my aim was good enough, while debating whether it was the thing, Wilhelm did something extraordinary.

In a blink he disappeared from under the threat and appeared behind Hartwell and I. Phipps fumed but we had no-ill will to our previously much esteemed collage.

Wilhelm had us out there in a trice with one of his miraculous devices.

Phipps was apprehended on his exit from the under croft.

Frankly I was unsure what to do with the man. I had hoped to have a conversation with him to determine his state of mind and whether he was fit for duty. In the meantime, I ordered a period of leave and stood him down from duties, requested him to remain in quarters, while detailing a guard to ensure he didn’t go wildly off the rails again.

It’s one of the hardest things I’ve had to deal with. I can’t even begin to tell you how mortified I was by the situation. I faced down plenty of enemies, faced death numerous times, but how do you deal with a man who I’ve long considered not just a colleague but a friend.

I’d rather be in the line facing the enemy than dealing with strange version of a most esteemed colleague. Most distressful, I can tell you.

Any opportunity to repair the situation was immediately denied by other events.

Hartwell had caught a whiff of the troops talking about ‘ghosts’. He got nothing further, but my curiosity immediately piqued, we three most familiar with the under croft immediate set out to investigate. Sure enough, barely within the entrance I discovered fresh footprints. A man’s boot and not military.

Fearing the worst, that Belltower was in the under croft, I barked an order to the sentries before we pursued the cad below. We caught occasional evidence of footprints, but it was Wilhelm with his strange device that spotted most of them.

Fearing the worst, we headed almost directly for the electrical room. I’m sorry I’ve not had opportunity to detail all the wonders we’ve discovered in this strange and advanced world. I hope to remedy this in future correspondence.

But sure enough as we entered, we could hear the oily tones of Belltower telling Maxine Le Blanc that he’d set an explosive device, to which she objected.

As we started to move into the great chamber, Hartwell and I tried to take-up positions in cover, while Wilhelm remained in the tunnel leading to the chamber.

Hartwell was unfortunate. The position he’d taken up was discovered by Belltower and Le Bark who came up unexpectedly behind him.

Belltower let loose with one of his strange weapons, severely injuring poor Hartwell who was taken unawares. To give him opportunity to escape, I felt I had to break cover and took a pot shot. I missed, but had the satisfaction of Belltower moving for cover and perhaps not so great, gaining the attention of Maxim Le Blanc.

At least Hartwell was able to make his escape into cover.

Le Blanc was surreal in the way she moved, somehow leaping up high and jumping along the strange machinery at a rate faster than I think I can run. I’ve never seen an acrobatic as good.

Suddenly she dropped in front of me, kicking and punching faster than I could blink. I tell you the woman is the most lethal creature I’ve met at close quarters! I think I’d rather take my chance against a Venusian raptor!

It was Wilhelm to the fore once more. He managed to hit her with his ‘gubber gun’. This strange weapon fires a stickly web that entraps anyone in its range. Le Blank was trapped and at my mercy.

Could I administer the coup de gras? Shoot a defenceless woman at point blank range? I knew she wanted me dead, was working for the forces of evil and very much against the empire, I had every reason to pull that trigger.

But I could not, it would have been a stain upon my character. Instead, I prepared an appeal to her character and logic. Afterall, she had berated Belltower for his tactics over the natives and objected to his bomb, which was currently ticking somewhere in the background.

But my hesitation was my undoing. Somehow this most remarkable woman broke free. She didn’t attack me being intent on escape, she was past me in short order. I could have shot her as she fled, but that’s not the action of a gentleman.

More important was getting to what-ever explosive device Belltower had planted. I might have had to deal with him along the way, but time was ticking away. I had no-way of determining what the effect might have been. This network goes deep into the core of the planet, what energies are harnessed? What could be unleased or otherwise lost forever?

I arrived at the chair and sure enough spotted the device under it left by the dastardly Belltower.

Much of it was beyond my ken, but I spotted some improvised wiring, the cad clearly hadn’t figured out a timing device, so I was able to disable the thing in good order.

I’m not sure if I saved the planet, the solar system or just my own hide.

I headed back and out. In the tunnel Wilhelm was unconscious with Hartwell trying to rouse him. We had to carry him to the surface.

When we had recovered, Wilhelm said that he’d again ‘gubbered’ Le Blanks trying to make her escape down the tunnel. With her at his mercy, she demanded a kiss, from ‘the only man to best her’. Wilhelm it seems felt overwhelmed to comply. Where-upon he fell into a deep sleep.

Our adversaries had clearly fled, using all the means at their disposal.

We escaped from this deadly encounter, but on return to the surface another crisis immediately faced me. Shastapsh had finally broke cover, ended their long phony war and set a force against the fort. As well as infantry, which was to be expected in force, there was cavalry on either flank of the column, in a very classical deployment. But most disturbing was the presence of 3 artillery pieces.

While these are inferior to our own, they clearly significantly out-ranged anything we had. Plus the fort is merely an adobe construction, so the walls and structures would soon be reduced to nothing by even the most basic of bombardments.

I briefly considered deploying the garrison in the field, to avoid this fate, but felt while we could prevail, it would come at a high cost. Instead, I ordered a sandbag wall to be constructed to protect the north gate. It would protect the walls and while not providing long term protection, would absorb a lot of any artillery fire, possibly buying us enough time until nightfall, when we could possibly send men out and launch an attack of our own.

However, the other thing it would do, was allow the deployment of the strange, tracked glass machine discovered in the under croft. We know this ‘fires’ some kind of strange disruption effect, which is difficult to withstand. I would have preferred to deploy this in the field and not allowed the enemy to deploy, but it moves slowly and time was against us. We were therefore forced to fight a defensive action.

Wilhelm fired the device into the centre of the enemy forces, the infantry core, which immediately and most satisfyingly routed. Carrying the gunners with them and leaving the cannon exposed.

But meanwhile the cavalry on the right had charged. Recognising our key weapon, they were clearly determined to take it out. Wilhelm managed to turn it on them, which reduced their ranks as most turned tail, but a hard core continued on. We needed rifle fire to bring them down, but as you are aware it’s a tricky shot to hit a target moving at speed.

Wilhelm was desperately backing the contraption into the protection of the sandbag wall, but it was moving so slowly, it was clear the rapidly advancing foe would reach him, with the poor chap defenceless. Hartwell and I fired furiously with the handful of men I had to hand.

We cut down the last villain mere feet from Hartwell. It was another close-run thing.

As Wilhelm backed the machine to safety, I surveyed the battlefield. The main body had retreated and appeared in disarray, although the rout had been halted. The left wing of the cavalry remained in place and the cannons remained exposed. It was time for action.

I called for our gashants and riders. I felt this called for a show of leadership, as it involved a high degree of risk. I led our men against their left-wing cavalry. We had a slight advantage in numbers, but a minimum exchange of fire saw them fall back to the protection of the main body. Which allowed me to turn the troop to the real target – the cannon.

I was able to dismount and spike these in short order. Without them, I felt they could assault the fort all they wanted, I was confident we could repel any attack and inflict large losses. We’d done it before. I considered pressing our advantage, but advancing in their direction it was clear they were starting to rally and odd shots came in our direction.

I ordered the retreat sounded and the troop headed back to the fort without so much as a scratch. That I am proud off.

Then the most unexpected happened. Three British airships attacked the enemy, within minutes they were encompassed in a cloud of gas. With no wind it remained there a very long time. I don’t know if was entirely fatal, but I suspect so for most if not all. Either way it will have been the most unpleasant experience imaginable. I almost feel sorry for the blighters.

Another surprise awaited when I rode into the fort. A ship moored at the mast, officers and reinforcements about the place and an immediate need to report to the commander of this force, General McClellan. Finally, I’d got the support I’d long been requesting. Except I was relieved of command. Seems that damnable Carter-Lloyd has filed a lot of trumped-up charges and she’s well connected somewhere. I am to attend a hearing. It's outrageous!

I can assure you that my honour is beyond reproach, but I am sure there will be some elements that will attempt it drag through the gutter. I will fight this, but in the short-term I am to return to the city, where I will be held upon on honour. Wilhelm, Hartwell and the ever-faithful Jones will accompany me. Wilhelm is furious at losing access to various devices.

I am most perturbed in not being allowed to hand-over command formally, brief my successor and I dread to think the mistakes that will be made in the under croft, without the benefit of our experience.

Still, it seems I have a different battle to fight.

Long live the Empress and may your family prosper,

Yours Faithfully,

Henry

Episode 57: Into the Palace

The servant led the heroes into the kitchen, making frantic signs for quiet, then proceeded to give them food and water.

The heroes questioned the servant in Koline¹ and got as much information on the layout of the Palace and the size and whereabouts of the guards as he had.

It wasn’t much.

The team decided to explore the palace, starting with the area they knew personally - the guest suites. It seemed that all their possessions had been removed from their rooms.

All these suites followed the same plan, and each featured a full length mirror in the bedroom, which appeared to be firmly fixed to the wall.

Further explorations uncovered two locked doors and a luxurious corridor connecting five even more sumptuous guest suites, each with a very ornate full-length mirror in the bedroom.

Returning to the Great Hall they entered the Majordomo’s suite and searched it. Wilhelm discovered that the full length mirror in the bedroom (which seemed to be some sort of cultural motif) had a secret catch that caused the whole mirror to swing out and reveal a concealed cabinet, in which a large ring of keys was hanging.

The keys enabled the heroes to unlock the locked doors and explore the Prince’s apartment and what was obviously a princess’ apartment suite. The Princess’ apartments featured an incredibly ornate mirror in the bedroom.

While exploring the Prince’s apartments a secret door was found - a painting - leading to a corridor from which the guest bedrooms could be viewed through the two-way mirrors. There was a catch on each mirror’s rear framing, along with a “pull” that would allow one to enter the room and to pull the mirror back into place from the secret accessway.

Returning to the Prince’s apartments, another secret door was discovered (a secret catch in a bas relief of a heraldic crest opened it) that led to a room with walls bearing many mounted heads - of humans! Two full-body stuffed humans guarded the door, a man on the right, a woman on the left. Each of these held spears and was posed as though defending themselves.

Piled on a long table in this room was all the heroes’ gear and clothing, which they gladly repossessed.

Wandering back to the Grand Hallway yet another secret passage was discovered behind a paining of the Prince’s great-grandfather, this one leading to the pit in which they had waked yesterday.

Having found a number of secret passages, the heroes recalled several notable features, artworks and the like, that might be worth a closer look.

In the guest hallway a secret door by a huge painting of a battle was found opening onto another narrow, unlit accessway, which ran behind all the guest suites and allowed the bedrooms of each to be viewed through what was again obviously the two-way mirror in each room! Each mirror had the now-familiar rear frame with a catch that apparently allowed the mirror to be used as a door, and a “pull” to enable the mirror to be pulled closed after use.

As they returned to grand hallway the Alarm was raised! Obviously the guards had found their dead comrades!

As three guards raced into the Grand Hallway, the team left via the kitchen to the courtyard.

As the heroes attempted to take stock, six guards ran out of the barracks and prepared to engage with black powder muskets. A frantic firefight broke out. A volley of black powder weaponry was answered by spear throws and, from Forsyth, revolver fire, to very little effect on either side.

Wilhelm fired his electric pistol and killed one guard outright, but eight More guards raced out to join the fracas while three of original guards begin reloading.

More gunfire was exchanged and Forsyth was seriously wounded. The heroes retreated deeper into courtyard, and Wilhelm "goobered" eight Martian guards with his sticky webs, entangling them, but as then seriously wounded by a concentrated black powder volley. Jones dropped to the ground, wounded or dead.

As the Martians gathered for another volley Wilhelm healed himself using his miracle healing device, restoring his health completely and erasing all signs of the violence he had so recently undergone.

Martians began breaking free from the entangling webs, and savage Hand-to hand combat broke out. Hartwell was surrounded and badly wounded. Wiseman was also surrounded.

Realizing that the situation was dire, Hartwell and Wiseman broke away from close combat and rendezvoused with Wilhelm, Forsyth and poor Jones, who was being dragged by Forsyth.

Hartwell used his miraculous teleporter and took everyone to the Prince's bedroom. Jones revived enough to speak, but was weak and unable to take further part in combat shenanigans. Wilhelm used his device to cure Forsyth and Hartwell.

Panting, bloodstained, the heroes pondered their next course of action …

1. a more-or-less universal trade lingua franca widely spoken on Mars↑

Episode 56: The Final Hunt

The heroes were treated to a slap-up feast on returning to Prince Kalamanka's palace, though the Prince was obviously out of sorts over the jaw-dropping validation of The Steppe Tiger's prowess.

The evening featured the Prince's trademark needling of The Steppe Tiger, but it was subdued compared to the previous occasions on which this boorish behaviour had been demonstrated. Some of the staff seemed in awe of Waldmont, and he noted some pointing at him and saying "Ghost Blade". It seemed his fame would be a thorn in the sode of Prince Kalamanka from this day forward after all.

Pleading exhaustion, the Prince eventually left the feast, and the heroes were soon seeking their own beds, yawning greatly after the strong wine they had been served.

Wilhelm, Waldmont and Forsyth woke the next day with pounding heads and parched throats to find they were stripped to their underwear and boots, and were imprisoned in a deep pit. Not only that, their hands were all but useless as they were locked in fiendish metal looms, immobilizing their fingers while equipping each finger with a razor sharp metal claw!

The Prince appeared at the lip of the pit some 30 feet above them and began taunting them. On the wall of the pit was a map of the Prince's estate, showing some detail and calling out green areas and possible sources of water. Forsyth noted that there were marks on the pit walls that might very well have been left by someone wearing the damnable claws trying, and failing, to climb out of the pit.

A flask of water was thrown down and each Earthman fumbled it to their lips with their new clawed, stiff fingers. Wilhelm sustained cuts to is face when he was distacted while drinking. However, the water revived the men and their fatigue faded.

The Prince explained that the fourth hunt would involve the Prince and certain guests who shared his Ground Cleanser sentiments hunting their most valued prey - humans!

Looking around the heroes saw that the pit was about 60 feet in diameter, with a gated tunnel leading out. The Prince explained that once the gate opened, they would have four hours to make whatever progress they could toward the mountains. If they reached the mountains, they would be released unharmed.

The gate opened. The team studdied the map for a few minutes, then trotted out, through a tunnel to the lush jungle-like woods outside the palace walls.

The outer gate slammed close.

The heroes decided to circle the Palace walls, which were almost 100 feet high and unscalable, looking for the main gate so as to possibly ambush the Prince's party and regain the initiative, but were attacked by a dread Green Koko. Wilhelm snarled and leapt into close combat with the giant snake, improvising with his new claws to good effect, dispatching the beast in short order.

A few minutes later a distinctive baying was heard and not long after that the team were attacked by a pack of roogies, the most common scavenger of the Martian steppes. Working together as best they could, the heroes fought off the beasts in desperate hand-to-maw melee. Once one roogie was dead, the others backed off, and as soon as the Englishmen had left, the roogies tore into the carcass, snarling at each other for the best parts.

Some time was lost when the team blundered into a swarm of durge flies, but they recouped and decided to set a trap for their would-be hunters. The best plan they could devise involved tricking the hunters into moving out onto the steppe while actually making their way o the main gate of the palace in the hope of gaining entrance, where perhaps, just perhaps, there might be some Marian staff who would render aid to The Ghost Blade and his friends.

The party encountered two more Green Kokos which were killed before they could inflict any damage and eventually they reached the escarpment leading down to the steppe. The need to get out of the woods as quickly as practicable was emphasized when yet another Green Koko attacked and had to be dealt with. Clearly, overnighting in the woods was not an option worth considering unless the situation became hopeless.

The team split into two parties and two trails were faked, one along the escarpment edge, one down onto the steppe. The sunds of hunting horns and Martian ribaldry was heard from the distance, and the team carefully retreated into the depths of the woods.

Suddenly a trapdoor was opened in the ground cover, and a ragged, bearded, emaciated human beckoned the heroes into the hole it had covered. Whispering, the team introduced themselves to their host, who called himself Sam Wiseman, survivor of an aircraft crash a few months before. Wiseman was an archeologist, on Mars researching a project, and had survived the wreck of his craft by dint of his woodcraft, keen alertness and scavenger instincts. He rummaged around in his small and cluttered hide and found picks with which he was able to remove the claws from the heroes' hands.

The team decided to improvise spears by lashing a set of claws to a pole, of which Wiseman had a supply left over from his construction of the trapdoor roof over their heads.

Not long after this was done their hiding place was discovered by Martian troops, beaters for the Princes hunting party. A fierce hand-to-hand combat broke out, and the Englishmen were victorious but couldn't prevent one Martian from screaming a warning. Wiseman realized his camp was compromised, and led the heroes to a second hideout he had prepared. Unfortunately, he had not had time to stock it as well as the discovered hideout.

But it would have to do.

On the plus side, the main gate of he palace could be seen from their new vantage point. An uneasy night was spent, with each human grabbing a fitful few hours of sleep in turn between watches and studying the guards on the balconey atop the front gate of the palace.

Morning saw the arrival of a flock of High Martians at the palace, and shortly after that the Prince and his party sortied from the palace mounted on Ruumet Breehrs. Trusting to their faked trail distraction, the heroes stayed put and spent their time working up a length of rope and a grappling hook from jungle vines and a set of claws.

The hunting party seemed to have fallen for the various ruses set by the heroes, and night fell with no sign of their return to the palace. Forsyth, Waldmont, Wilhelm and their new friend Wiseman crept closer to the main gate as the night drew in and the sentries grew tired and negligent, prefering to spend time by the hot coals burning in the brazier than stand staring into the cold dark for the Prince's return.

Choosing their moment, the heroes threw the improvised grapling hook onto the balcony. Forsyth swarmed up the rope and engage both sentries with his claw-spear, sending both to wherever dead Martians go. The others climbed up to join him, though Wilhelm had difficulty and had to be pulled up.

Grabbing the sentries weapons the four Earthmen descended into the inner courtyard, then made for the kitchens where they surprised a servant.

The servant froze, then, in Koline, welcomed The Ghost Blade, offering him and his friends food and water.

Interlude: A rules Reminder to All Cast Members

A reminder to all cast members: There are many discrepancies between the Red Sands setting, SWADE, and various other period appropriate setting books such as Deadlands Reloaded, especially in the matter of weapon statistics and costs.

To re-iterate for the cast and for any prospective cast: in the event of a discrepancy, unless the GM says otherwise, Red Sands rulings are in effect and all contradictory rules are not.

Notable exceptions are to base mechanics, where SWADE will be made to work, and specifically the Winchester lever action rifle statistics, in which the Deadlands Reloaded statistics are in force. If there are incompatabilities between a Red Sands Edge/Skill/Hindrance and the SWADE version, the GM will work with the player to arrive at a mutually agreeable compromise.

The 1 on the Skill Die thing:

• A 1 on a skill roll is always a failure, and may precipitate extra complications.
• If shooting, an unbennied 1 is
  1. A jam (automatics only)
  2. A dud round (Black Powder, Revolvers and Automatics)
  3. Out of Ammo (friendly extras only).
  4. WC, snake eyes only - Serious, weapon-disabling problem (broken hammer, broken spring, cracked barrel etc)

Wildcards only run out of ammo when their actual ammo count hits 0.

Episode 55: An Invitation to a Hunt

Our heroes arrived in Moerus Lacus bearing the unmistakable signs of desperate combat, which - along with the tales already preceding them by the miracle of the rumour telegraph - had the population in a ferment of wild speculation.

Which is why a representative of the governor hurried them to the British Legation compound and had then installed in a modest house under guard. No-one said "house arrest" but it was apparent the freedom of the city was not in the offing anytime soon.

Hardly had the heroes had time to draw breath when there was news of an emissary at the front door.

A rather finely dressed Martian entered the room bearing an ornate scroll. He introduced himself as Laramuuri, the Major Domo and Factotum of Prince Kalamanka, who very much desired to meet the famous "Steppe Tiger", human hunter of renown, and to that effect had extended an invite to Hartwell and his companions to visit the Prince's estate and enjoy a series of hunts with the Prince.

When Forsyth and Wilhelm at first demurred, the Martian functionary emphatically insisted that the Prince would most certainly welcome a chance to share meals with the Hero of Fort McMurray and hear the tales of the desperate battle for the wall against the vile Shastapsh hordes, and was looking forward also to speaking with the legendary Conqueror of Bordobaar and hearing of the struggle to recover the ancient treasures of antiquity that the Martian people might enjoy them and experience their history in person.

The functionary extolled the virtues of the Prince's estate, saying that is was most unusual in that it was situated over a natural spring¹ and could provide a rich variety of countryside to explore and in which to hunt. This was to be something of a celebration too, as the Prince had just become engaged to Shalafarina, daughter of the head of a wealthy Fire Gem trading family in Karkarham.

When the governor's man took them aside and pointed out that this might be an opportune moment to quit Moerus Lacus and allow the public fervour over the charges laid at their door by Miss Carter-Lloyd to die down to more restrained levels, the chaps decided that since this Martian had come so far with the gracious invitation, and had offered a leisurely trip in the Prince's kite to his estate, they might as well get away from the madding crowd and have some fun for a change.

So early the next morning they boarded the kite, a trim craft, seemingly unarmed and rather smaller than they were expecting perhaps, and set sail for the estate, situated south east of Moerus Lacus. Perhaps a harbinger of better times to come, the trip was uneventful, and after a day and a night's sailing they made landfall in a valley surrounded by mountains, in which a large, tiered building of Martian architecture was situated, surrounded by an astonishing wood. This far from a canal it was almost unheard of for there to be trees, especially in such profusion.

Prince Kalamanka proved to be very keen to speak with each of the Earthmen.He seemed to be hopping from one guest to another with almost manic pleasure, and lunch was time for some peculiar conversation.

The Prince kept asking the "Steppe Tiger"² his opinion on various matters of local Martian politics, trade agreements and so on, matters which Hartwell could not possibly have had an interest in or knowledge of, which meant he was forced to equivocate (which he did with skill many a politician would have envied).

Forsyth was plied with requests for detailed retelling of the events during his command of Fort McMurray, with interruptions from Prince Kalamanka so that the "Steppe Tiger"³ could comment, though there was an almost imperceptible whiff of insincerity when Prince Kalamanka complimented the gallant captain.

Wilhelm, "The Conqueror of Bordobaar", was invited to see Prince Kalamanka's collection of treasures from that haul⁴, which amounted to a few gold coins of fabulous antiquity and a golden dagger, all displayed on some kind of upholstery in a glass case prominently positioned in one of the palace's rooms. The prince felt sure Wilhelm would recognize the pieces, but Wilhelm was forced to an insincere admiration as that expedition had recovered literally hundreds of ceremonial knives and tens of thousands of gold coins, and Wilhelm had never been much of a numismatist.

After lunch it was announced that the party would need to be transported to the first hunt, since Prince Kalamanka did not have a steppe tiger on his preserve. The prince, it seemed, was anxious to see for himself the famed skill for which his countrymen had named the Earthman. Not only that, he would hear nothing else but that “Steppe Tiger” should use his own father’s black powder musket - a magnificent weapon.

The evening meal saw a repeat of Prince Kalamanka’s odd behaviour, attempting to draw “Steppe Tiger” into offering opinions on subjects on which he was unlikely to have any knowledge or opinions.

So it was that the heroes once again boarded ship after breakfast the next morning, and sailed northeast in search of the fearsome steppe tiger.

Forsyth noted with interest that they flew south and then east of Shastapsh, giving the rebel city a wide berth but still passing close enough for a positive identification. He enquired of Laramuuri why they were flying the route they had taken, and was told it was to avoid provoking the Shastapsh navy.

The ship made landfall early the next morning, and the party met with a band of Steppe Martian tribesmen who had prepared four ruumet breehr⁵ with howdahs and drivers. The prince had supplied bearers, loaders really, as well as weapons, smoothbore black powder muskets of typical Martian design.

Everyone got two muskets. Well, not everyone. Hartwell only had the one Prince Kalamanka had offered him the previous day. For some reason, our heroes did not think to comment on this curious imbalance of firepower.

The tribesmen had located a likely area containing not one buttwo steppe tigers, a mated pair with young according to the tribe's leader. At least, that was what Laramuuri claimed. None of the Englishmen could understand a word of whatever martian language Prince Kalamanka, his staff or the tribesmen spoke. Each of our heroes mounted a ruumet breehr, took station in its howdah next to the alloted bearer, and once he prince had followed suit, they were off.

Some time later, Hartwell dismounted to check for spoor and became aware he was being observed, no, stalked by their quarry, a fearsome steppe tiger! Dropping to his knee as the slavering beast charged he coolly leveled his musket and fired a shot, hitting the beast - but failing to stop it!

The steppe tiger slammed into Hartwell at an appalling speed, snarling and snapping his teeth but merely getting a chunk of Hartwell's clothing for its trouble, as it was carried past the now-prone Hartwell by its own terrifying momentum.

Hartwell, still somehow clutching the now-useless musket leapt to his feet and ran for the safety of his ruumet breehr. No sooner had he stumbled into the howdah than a second steppe tiger, unseen until now by our lucky hunter, leapt for the flank of the ruumet breehr, disemboweling it with a sweep of its mighty claws! The poor beast was mortally wounded, and fell over, smashing the howdah and tossing the crew to the ground.

crouching amid the wreckage, the three former riders were thankful that the freshly killed ruumet breehr was not only providing a massive wall behind which to take stock and shelter, but the smell of its blood was a major distraction to both steppe tigers, who began to feed noisily on their prize.

Hartwell had his musket reloaded and, deciding to reconnoiter, crept round the flank of the beast and spotted the two steppe tigers feeding.

Meanwhile Prince Kalamanka and the other two Earthmen were approaching on their own mounts. Wilhelm and Forsyth fired, but missed due to the extreme range and the pitching and rolling of the howdahs. The prince held his fire.

Hartwell leveled his own weapon, sighted on the original steppe tiger that had come so close to ending his life and at point blank range - he missed!

The steppe tiger span around, bared its teeth and screamed a challenge to freeze the blood of any warm-blooded animal.

Forsyth cooly grabbed his second weapon from his loader, quickly took aim and fired, hitting the animal in its vitals, killing it stone dead.

Wilhelm, meanwhile, was riding down the second steppe tiger, still ensconced in the bloody ruin of the dead ruumet breehr. He fired, hitting the beast, but not seriously wounding it.

The beast spun round, screamed its own challenge and leapt for the flank of Wilhelm’s ruumet breehr, its wicked claws extended fully.

Fortunately, the ruumet breehr’s hide was too tough for the predator. Unfortunately (for the steppe tiger) the ruumet breehr’s driver failed to keep the beast under control and, enraged by the attack it had suffered, it proceeded to trample the steppe tiger into bloody paste.

The prince looked on aghast. Hartwell had proved inept at killing the steppe tiger in this hunt, but Forsyth had duplicated the famed feat of arms, witnessed by the prince, his staff and countless Martian flunkies. The pelt would have to go to Forsyth.

The second steppe tiger was in no fit shape to donate its pelt for display by anyone. What a complete and utter fiasco.

The party returned their beasts to the steppe tribe they had received them from, watched Prince Kalamanka and his major domo argue vociferously with the tribal leader, presumably over compensation for the killed ruumet breehr, then boarded the aerial ship they had arrived in and made their weary way back to the palace.

For the next hunt Prince Kalamanka, somewhat disgruntled at the turn of events of the first hunt (though he hid it well) announced they would be traveling to the swamps outside Gorklimsk⁶ to hunt an almost mythical (until recently) beast - the Knoe Shoshu. A reclusive animal, it was rumoured to be extremely aggressive when needs arose. The prince had word of where one might be found, which they would hunt with harpoons.

At dinner, Prince Kalamanka was fulsome in his praise of Forsyth, though he still plied the unfortunate "Steppe Tiger" with delicate questions of Martian business etiquette and local trade politics, seemingly extremely interested in the bewildered Earthman's views on subjects of which he could have no experience to draw upon. He also laid on thick his regret that "Steppe Tiger" had had his mount eaten out from under him before he could truly demonstrate his no-doubt superior hunting technique.

The next day dawned and the party rose early to take ship for the swamplands just west of Gorklimsk, a shot flight of only a few hours.

During the trip the heroes noted that there were boats of the non-flying variety hanging from primitive davits installed on the deck of Prince Kalamanka's kite, and that the hulls of these boats were being painted with some foul-smelling liquid. When asked what was going on, Laramuuri said that the liquid was bait for the Knoe Shoshu, and would attract the beast from wherever it was hiding if it was out and about in the swamp.

The kite soon took station over the swamp, each hunter climbed into a boat with his assigned bearer and two large harpoons, and the boats were lowered into the water in a rather nerve-wracking operation. Eventually all boats were in the water and under way.

They soon found themselves nudging up against an island of vegetation, and Prince Kalamanka excitedly announced that he could see the lair of the beast dead ahead of them. The party advanced quietly, harpoons at the ready, when the "reclusive" beast launched itself out of the hole in which it had been hiding and made to attack!

Forsyth reacted quickly and struck with his harpoon, killing it instantly, to the amazement of all, not the least of these being Forsyth himself!

The prince was impressed despite himself, and mastered his disappointment at the rather short duration of what he had expected to be a protracted hunt, confining himself to a few pointed remarks regretting the loss of the second chance for the famous Steppe Tiger to demonstrate his "no-doubt impressive" skill.

So it was that a rather subdued Prince Kalamanka led the party of rather more jubilant Earthmen back to the ship and thence back to his estate and another sumptuous dinner punctuated with earnest requests that The Steppe Tiger comment on this or that nuanced point of Martian trade politics and the relative merits of a few obscure Bhutan Spices not normally found in the Crown Colony.

The third hunt was to take place in Prince Kalamanka's hunting preserve itself. It seemed that a beast the Martians referred to as a "Death Stalker" had taken up residence in the grounds and was preying on the herds of eegar Prince Kalamanka was reserving for his own sport. Therefore, the prince would lead an expedition to corner the beast and dispatch it, using black powder pistols. A brace of six fine examples were to be supplied to each hunter, and were holstered in a rather elaborate waistcoat-like harness for ease of drawing and firing.

There was one possible hitch, the prince allowed. The Death Stalker had a way of making itself invisible by vibrating. Something to do with sound too high pitched to be heard by humans or martians. The prince, however, had a trick up his sleeve. He had a supply of antique goggles specially designed for hunting these things, goggles coated with a substance that would render the beast visible to all! He had the goggles brought in and distributed, each Earthman picking his choice. The prince would take from whatever was left.

The next day, after a light breakfast, the troupe made their way, clad in their pistol-packin' braces⁷ to the lower levels of the palace, thence to the lush, spring-fed woods surrounding the building. Forsyth has suggested swords be worn "as a precaution" and so everyone was equipped with a fine Martian short sword in addition to half a dozen loaded .50 calibre black powder flintlock pistols, again, of antique Martian design. Each hunter was assigned a bearer who carried ammunition, powder, and light refreshments.

After a pleasant walk in the woods for about a mile or so, the party descended a steep escarpment using a switchback trail to the steppe-like area that seemed to make up he majority of the grounds. In the distance, perhaps ten miles off, mountain ridges fenced in the preserve. Approaching a cliff face with two distinct caves showing, Prince Kalamanka announced that this was where the Death Stalker had taken up residence. This beast was described as about the size of a small horse and in appearance not unlike a scorpion, albeit a scorpion of giant proportions.

Forsyth suggested they build fires in front of each cave, and add green leaves and foliage from the shrubs scattered about and smoke out the beast, rather than attempt to beard it in its lair, and everyone thought this a fine idea. No sooner were the fires lit and producing volumes of choking smoke than the Death Stalker scuttled out of one of the caves and adopted a threatening posture.

Undaunted by the giant scorpion-thing clacking its mandibles at them, the hunters fired their pistols at close range, scoring hit after hit.

Afterward, some opined the wonder was that no-one was injured by the fusillade of ricochets this produced.

Seeing the beast was completely unharmed, Prince Kalamanka decided to retreat in order that the Steppe Tiger and his friends have a better field of fire. The Death Stalker, snoof organs ringing from the rather ineffective bombardment it had undergone, promptly turned invisible.

Our heroes of course deployed Prince Kalamanka's wondrous goggles, but found they were of no use whatsoever in revealing any sign of the beast. So much for Ancient Martian Technology!

Forsyth tore off his goggles and attempted to make sense of he tracks from a distance, but could not be certain of much. He decided to cautiously back away from his current position.

Wilhelm snorted in disgust at the failure of the Martian goggles, and deployed his own trusty set from his marvelous hat. Scanning quickly around he pinpointed the beast's position, as he could make out its blurry outline through his lenses. He then also fell back in search of better ground and cover.

It then seemed that The Steppe Tiger⁸ was seized by a fit of madness. He ran pell-mell toward the thing he could not see following Wilhelm's shouted directions, drawing his sword as he ran. Colliding with the invisible thing, he lashed out with all his might.

The bearer's cries of dismay became sounds of bewildered wonder when the beast became visible in a series of pulses, its power fading as its life drained away thanks to the hideous wound The Steppe Tiger⁹ had dealt it. The Steppe Tiger had slain the invincible Death Stalker with a single blow and he could not see it at the time!

Prince Kalamanka was aghast. His revered antiques had failed to live up to their reputation at every turn, and the day had been saved by an Earthman's risibly ugly devices. And the Earthmen had turned out to be just as awesome in the hunt as had been rumoured - if not even more so. It was humiliating.

The prince vowed to himself that he would have a better showing in the final hunt.

1. a fabulous rarity on Mars↑
2. Hartwell↑
3. Still Hartwell↑
4. The winning of which is described beginning here↑
5. A beast larger than an elephant, used as traction for large wagons and also in a similar manner as Earthmen in India use elephants, riding them in a large howdah↑
6. Which both Hartwell and Forsyth had visited once before, to disastrous effect, as told here↑
7. What Americans call "suspenders". Englishmen like to see suspenders, but not in polite company↑
8. Still Hartwell↑
9. Hatrwell, you can be sure↑

New House Rule

When using rapid fire weapons in combat, such as machine guns, Gatling guns, Nordenfelt guns etc., if anything less than the maximum rate of fire listed for the weapon is attempted, the firer must succeed with a Spirit roll to overcome the natural tendency to 'pour it on' in battle. No extra benefit is gained from a raise.

Gunners with the Knowledge(Gunnery) aka Gunnery skill may ignore this house rule.

Note that using only part of the available ROF may mean that rules-of-thumb must be used for remaining ammo, possibly "shorting" the firer, as ROF 1,2 & 3 refer to 1,5 and 10 rounds expended. If there are not the number of rounds available to equate to the ROF expected, the ROF will drop one class with no change in the amount of ammunition expended. If you have 8 rounds left in your Gatling and crank like crazy, you will shoot all the remaining rounds and achieve only ROF 2. This is not intended to introduce player book-keeping or ammo-gaming, but to reduce GM book-keeping. The wise player character with ammunition to spare will take advantage of his or her weapon's terrifying stopping power and crank like crazy.

Considerations

There are circumstantial benefits to high ROF weaponry.

• Depending on the situation the use of such a weapon will have an automatic surpessing fire effect, requiring enemies to take spirit checks to avoid ducking back behind cover, "hitting the deck" or scattering
• If the leader of an attack wave survives, only the leader rolls for the remaining troops.

EXAMPLE:
Private Joe Smith has D6 Spirit and is manning the company Gatling gun when savage Hill Martian tribesmen attack! He sees the leader riding his gashant ahead of the pack and wants to take a single shot to conserve ammunition, but rolls a 3 on his Spirit test and cranks for all he is worth, killing the mad Martian in a hail of lead but expending half his ammunition to do so. The Hill Martians test to see if they stand firm, fail a group roll and scatter to find cover without returning fire.

EXAMPLE:
Colour Sergeant Flagg is manning the second company Gatling gun when the ambush is attempted. He has the Gunnery skill, and so carefully picks off one of the savages with a single shot without needing to overcome his battle lust.

EXAMPLE:
Reginald Molehusband, adventurer, is lolling around the bow of his steam launch when a party of High martians swoops in intent on murder and mayhem! Gripping his pipe frimly in his mouth he swings the ever-ready Nordenfelt to bear on the leader and, with a weather eye on the number of savages to be seen off, decides to use a single shot. He rolls his spirit (D8 + WD) and gets a 1 and a 6, sending the blighter to his death with a single shot. However, the '1' means that one of the other rounds waiting to be loosed is a dud or a jam. If Reginald shoots singly, this will be his next shot and will fail. If he decides to fire the remaining shells he fires with an effective ROF of 1. The dud round will clear itself on the next pull of the loading lever of his trusty, self-clearing Nordenfelt.

Captain Forsyth: A Letter

Captain Forsyth, Fort McMurray, somewhere south of chaos.

My Dear Brother,

I trust you and the family are well. I hear young Bruce is quite the entertainer!

It’s quite the jumble of events I have to record and I have to finish this letter quickly as finally a ship has arrived that will take dispatches.

The good Doctor Phipps recovered from his malaise. A welcome addition to our ranks again, however I fear the episode may have affected him more than expected.

Sadly, we were soon alerted to a hide hole in the stores. It seems that we’ve had a most unwelcome guest for a while. Stores had been stolen and the tins discarded. A hint of residual local perfume was detected. I fear we are being repeatedly attacked by some female Martian assassin.

I believe this was the person that set up the bombs that so affected out garrison. Whether it was with or without the assistance of the deserters I cannot be sure. My inclination is that she had some hand in that.

Then as we did a thorough search of the place, Wilhelm was fortunate to survive a bomb trap, but the rest of his party did not.

Other supplies are missing according to the QM, but it’s minor and low level. We have some petty theft, probably opportunistic, but it needs to be stamped out never-the-less.

We then received a visit from HMS Tuttle. Our first contact with the Empire in well over two weeks! I can’t tell you what a relief this was and I’m sure it will lift the troops, removing that sense of isolation. At least one of my overland despatches must have got though.

The airship had bought a replacement heliograph.

Tuttle is a most interesting vessel, designed for engineering work. I was most curious about how she went about her business. I’m afraid I may have bored her officers with my questioning, but they never stinted to show me every detail. It’s my field don’t you know and I would wish to think that they appreciated my interest.

Regrettably, we were denied a formal dinner by time and circumstance. We made do with a working luncheon. I hope to be able to entertain these worthies in the future.

While operations were in progress, a green flash was reported on the horizon. If you’re not aware the horizon here on Mars is less than on earth. I believe about 2 miles, compared to a little over 3 on earth. I may have misheard the expert, but I think it’s about right.

The flash clearly needed investigating. However, I didn’t believe it was proper for me to leave the fort while the Tuttle was about its work. The clear priority was to re-establish contact the rest of the Empire.

I suspect few commands are blessed with a handful of individuals, who can make such a difference. The nearly recovered Phipps, ever resourceful Wilheim and the always stout Hartwell, accompanied a patrol.

They reported back on a body of local hill tribesmen that appeared to have died by some appalling burn wounds. The rest of the armed tribe returned as the away party were approaching the site and a stand-off occurred. I have to commend my batman, Jones, who apparently was able to translate and defuse the situation.

The tribe demanded we turn over the villain that had killed their men. Of course, we had no such, but just as our words were gathering an understanding, the very villain appeared behind the small patrol and hurled some fateful strange green bomb over the heads of our honest men and into this possibly innocent tribe. An absolute outrage that deserves justice.

But his clear plan was to sow the seeds of destruction. Naturally, the tribesmen called foul and despite many having been blinded by this strange explosion, while our men showed great fortitude, opened fire on us.

Of course, I was not there, but being fired upon, the men did themselves credit as soldiers by eliminating the adversary in very short order.

Meanwhile this individual who’d appeared at the rear of our force, also attracted interest.

Dr. Phipps immediately judged him a threat. Hereto, I’d never have questioned the good doctor’s judgement, well more on that later. A sergeant too felt the same.

Now here’s the darndest thing – I do apologise for the language – all witnesses describe the fellow as being ‘blurred’. Both men swore they’d shot true, but the bounder disappeared. They found their spent bullets dented on the ground where he’d stood!

Back at the fort, sadly I have to record that I am obliged to have Miss Carter-Lloyd removed to the ship for transportation back to civilisation, where she can be more properly treated and face due judgement. With all that has been happening her confinement has been a sad one and her social interaction severely limited, which must have hard for one so used to the limelight.

Then I must temper my sympathy with my duty to my men. There was too much bloodshed and destruction to forget this.

It’s rather unedifying delivering her to ship in chains and I wish it could be done in any other way, but I had to be sure that the officers and crew understood she was a prisoner. Otherwise, I’m sure she will charm them all out of hand and have them flying where-ever she pleases.

I do hope this won’t get ugly, but have to send you fair warning, that it could all result with my character being called into question. I do believe the lady is not without connections.

If proved, some of her crimes may easily warrant the gallows, I do so hope that is not the case. Equally, my good fellows may be called into question, especially the good Doctor Phipps.

The Tuttle is anxious to be under away, so I must leave it here.

Long live Her Majesty!

Your brother,

Henry

Episode 54: Relieved and Evicted

General McClellan was firm.

The General thanked him for the offer, but he needed no personal tours from Forsyth.

The civilians sniffing around the Crystal Device and waiting in the courtyard for the inevitable geyser were firm.

They thanked him for the offer but they needed no help from Professor Wilhelm investigating the Crystal Machine or any other weird phenomena in Fort McMurray.

Hartwell’s farewells to the Martians he had formed such a tight bond with brought many sincere expressions of friendship and hopes for a quick and positive outcome for the unfortunate Forsyth.

All three heroes were put aboard the Quicksilver, one of the three steam airships that had brought the general and his entourage to Fort McMurray, and the ship lifted into the sky heading toward Moerus Lacus, first stop on the journey to Syrtis Major and a possible court martial for Forsyth.

The Heroes were confined to the Officer’s Quarters and all weapons and devices except Forsyth's sidearm were put in stowage until the ship was well underway, at which point Forsyth, Harwtell and Wilhelm were allowed the freedom of the deck.

Forsyth was sure he saw a flash of light reflected off some object far in the distance but approximately at the same altitude as the Quicksilver but could not see what has caused it. He alerted the officer of the watch, who humoured the Captain but was unable to confirm the sighting.

The heroes were invited to dine with the captain and a couple of his officers. During dinner, Wilhelm began pressing the captain for the return of his weird science equipment but the captain was firm, saying that he had his orders. Wilhelm then decided on the odd tactic of questioning the captains authority, going so far as to demand who issued his orders and hinting broadly that he, Wilhelm, had friends in high places and resources with which to make life difficult for the captain.

This stratagem was entirely successful inasmuch as it caused the captain to leave the table abruptly and have dinner in his cabin alone, and to order a secure watch on the room containing the heroes' gear with instructions to let no one have access without in-person orders from the captain.

The heroes decide to keep watches of their own, and at the end of the second watch, Wilhelm discovered everyone except those bunking in the officers quarters to be in a deep sleep from which no amount of shaking would rouse them.

Pausing only to pull the sleeping guard away from the door of the room with their gear in, and to arm themselves, the three gallants crept up on deck where they were just in time to see Beltower and LeBlanc in some sort of tandem harness leaping over the gunwale!

Realizing the ship was slowing, Forsyth volunteered himself as stoker to replenish the boiler. The engineer and relief trimsman were not asleep and so were able to perform their vital jobs, but the helmsman was out for the count and the ship was circling slowly. Suddenly there was a loud bang, the ship tilted violently to port and the engine was silent.

The engineer raced to the engine room and discovered that the cylinders of the steam engine had two large holes melted in them, and that the pistons themselves were scored beyond repair. The engine was scrap metal.

Not only that, but ultra-bright flares had been attached to every available vertical surface with some sort of gumme-like substance and ignited. The ship was lit brightly from bow to stern.

Now, off in the distance, the heroes could hear the drone of gasoline engines. Sure enough, a familiar Zeppelin, the Samthandschuh pulled alongside after a few minutes. A face was visible in the control gondola in the light of the damnable flares - Count Oberluft!. He exchanged pleasantries with Forsyth and offered to give him a ride to the German authorities, which Forsyth declined. The count then bid the heroes goodbye, saying that they would see his "rocket motor" in action now, and the airship pulled away into the night.

Suddenly a bright flare was spotted, illuminating the Samthandschuh, and closing on the Quicksilver with impressive speed.

A rocket! Fired from the "rocket motor" that swine Oberluft was at pains to brag about!

Orders were given to the trimsman to lose 30 feet of altitude as quickly as possible, which was done, and the rocket streaked overhead, missing the Quicksilver by scant feet!

Barely had this narrow escape been pulled off than a second flare was streaking toward the redoubtable Quicksilver. Frantic orders were called to the trimsman who manfully tried to pull off another rapid loss of altitude, but could not before the rocket slammed into the bow of our heroes vessel, exploding violently!

The trimsman was again ordered to lose more altitude, and Forsyth single-handedly fired a shot from the portside Hotchkiss rotating cannon - a hit! Not enough to seriously hurt the d____ed Hun, but some superficial damage was dealt in retaliation for the rocket.

Another rocket was fired, which narrowly missed the Quicksilver, and Fire was returned from the bow-mounted light cannon, scoring another hit of inconsequential damage. More rockets were loosed, but all missed.

The Samthandschuh faded into the martian night, and the heroes, with the help of the two remaining crew crash-landed the Quicksilver with remarkably little damage to speak of. The compass house was smashed to matchwood, and the oversized lower rudders were shredded, but the hull remained viable.

The heroes kept watch though the night, and as morning broke the crew began to wake. The heroes discussed the matter and decided it was obvious the food not consumed in the officers quarters was doped in some fashion, most likely by LeBlanc and/or Beltower, each of whom had either boarded the ship by means not unlike those available to Wilhelm¹ or that they had stowed away and picked their moment to act.

The two saboteurs were in the wind, the heroes having been far too busy during the crisis last night to have kept track of how they escaped or where they went. It was decided that the most likely scenario was the same method used by The Brotherhood to escape during the final battle against the Red Sands menace².

options were discussed, and it was decided to attempt to drift the Quicksilver with the wind. The heroes felt they could do better, and Wilhelm was able to concoct a strong glue from the magazine of his "goober gun" with which to glue together bedsheets to form small sails and boat-hooks to form short booms.

An opportune breeze was blowing, and so over the next day and a half the Quicksilver was navigated at nap-of-earth³ to the nearest segment of the Moerus Lacus-Shastapsh canal, where she was grounded and passage on a barge for the three heroes and Jones was arranged. Forsyth promised to send back help for the Quicksilver, and the heroes were once again on their way.

Midway through their trip the barge was accosted by canal pirates and a desperate fight broke out in which fully half the crew were killed and Hartwell injured. Fortunately the heroes and the crew were able to beat off the attack, with the pirates being reduced to jumping in the canal to swim for it in some cases.

And so it was that the barge with the battered heroes on board, docked a Moerus Lacus, to the admiring cheers of the Martian dockside workers once word got around, confounding the military detachment sent to conduct them to the legation where they would be kept under light house arrest until General McClellan came to pick them up.

The story of their bravery on the barge would race along the canal and likely be all over Syrtis Major before that happened⁴.

1. Teleportation↑
2. As told here in episode 35↑
3. ie nap-of-mars↑
4. and would be subject to distortion by Ground Cleanser elements working to discredit all Earthmen↑

Episode 53: LeBlanc Escapes! Shastapsh Attacks!

Beltower, invisible and positioned for optimal mischief, fired his dastardly electric gun at the unsuspecting Hartwell, who was engulfed in green lightning and wounded quite badly.

At the same time, LeBlanc was able to break free of her confinement and threw herself into the tunnel, where she was tackled and pinioned by the resourceful Wilhelm.

Wilhelm had the treacherous LeBlanc held firmly, defeating her struggles with his manly strength, but she suddenly sagged in his arms and turned her beautiful face to his. Eyes flashing in admiration, she announced she was surrendering, but that she wanted one kiss from the man who defeated her.

Wilhelm's intellect was shouting that it was a trap, but he was in the grip of powerful emotions and, senses reeling, he granted the helpless woman her request, whereupon he fell senseless to the floor.

LeBlanc lost no time in fleeing to the safety of the vertical shaft, and the still invisible Beltower followed suit, leaving the heroes in their wake.

Wilhelm helped Hartwell as best he could, applying his wondrous healing machine to good effect, while Forsyth raced to the chair device and disabled the bomb he found there.

Returning to the surface, the heroes were informed by an officer that a large Shastapsh force had been seen by pickets approaching the Fort. They were reported to have cavalry and artillery in the form of Martian-manufactured cannons.

Forsyth ordered a wall built in front of the North Gate using the entire stock of Colonel Moran's Dehydrated Sandbags of which he had been informed after the last inventory, leaving a gap for the Crystal Machine to park in.

No sooner was the Crystal Machine in place than troops appeared over horizon. As they set up their cannon in the road, Wilhelm fired the Crystal Machine's weapon, and the centre of the Shastapsh formation immediately routed, over-running the artillery in the rear, who panicked and routed too.

The cavalry on the Shastapsh right wing attacked, but Wilhelm used the Crystal Weapon against them and they routed in disorder. Small- and Long-arm firing from the troops stationed inside the sandbag wall took an additional toll on those who Shastapsh blackguards who were made of sterner stuff.

The Shastapsh cavalry on the left flank meanwhile was in full charge. The Crystal Machine could not turn to bear in time, and it looked as though the British would have to retreat i side the fort, when suddenly a squadron of three steam airships flying British Colours appeared and drove off the remaining Shastapsh forces.

The flagship docked at the fort's mast, and soldiers, some civilians and one very important-looking general disembarked.

General McClellan had bad news for Forsyth.

Phoebe Carte-Lloyd had leveled some serious charges against Forsyth, Hartwell and Phipps.

1. Unlawful Imprisonment of a civilian i.e. herself on specious unproved charges
2. Waging undeclared war on Shastapsh, with the destruction of lives and property, including one unarmed Kite.
3. Dereliction of Duty to wit: Failing to properly to oversee the management of Fort McMurray, permitting several insurgent attacks to be made with loss of life, while indulging himself in personal exploration trips into the vaults under the Fort. Allowing and condoning enlisted men to not only fraternise, but to openly cavort in a lascivious manner with Martian native courtesans.
4. Waging undeclared war on a diplomatic mission from a neutral European nation to wit: the murder of numerous German crewmen of the dirigible airship "Samthandschuh"

Forsyth was formally relieved of command and required to accompany the general back to civilization where a court martial would likely be convened to answer charges.

Interlude: Forsyth's Charges Vs Miss Carter-Lloyd

Charges against Miss Phoebe Carter-Lloyd.

It is with the deepest regret that the following charges are recorded against the defendant.

1. Sedition. In that she did attempt to undermine the authority of the officers of the fort by making misleading statements, without knowledge of the situation, or consulting with the said officers. That she used ‘feminine wiles’ to undermine the command structure and attempted an unauthorised use of the heliograph, a military means of communication, which may be used by civilians with the consent of the commanding officer, which hereto had been freely given.

The defendant was widely observed openly kissing an NCO, in an effort to get her illicit and incorrect message transmitted. The NCO bears no blame and handed the illicit message over as was his duty.

It is clear that having run out of good news stories for her readership and finding herself stranded on a remote fort, Carter-Lloyd, solely for self-interest in needing to stay at the forefront of the press, invented stories or exaggerated them out of all proportion. The result would have been a serious downturn in morale.

Gentlemen, Carter-Lloyd should never have been allowed to travel to Fort McMurrey. An attractive young woman suddenly appearing at a post with over 200 men – unescorted? Questions need to be asked of her employers.

Carter-Lloyd regularly flirted with the officers and even visiting delegations, in an improper manner.

Carter-Lloyd was sectioned by Dr. Phipps as his right and proper position, believing that she was under a mental malady causing her behaviour.

Coupled to her seditious nature and general negative effect on the garrison, I felt no option but to temporarily confine her to quarters on Dr. Phipps recommendation.

It was expected to be a short-term thing. However, loss of the regular supply ship, regular attacks on the fort, meant that this became a longer than intended affair. Indeed the need to keep her safe, rapidly outweighed any other considerations.

2. Murder. Carter-Lloyd affected an escape. Two reliable sentries had been posted on her door, entirely for her protection as the only woman on a base with over 200 men and to prevent her randomly wondering about a base that was under constant attack. She’d attracted the eye of many men and I wanted to be certain that she didn’t get any unwanted attention. These sentries were discovered with their throats cut, stuffed in the wardrobe of her room. (There are multiple witnesses to this.)

Further, two heliograph operatives were found dead, also with their throats cut and likewise the guard at the south gate.

Who but Carter-Lloyd could have committed this act?

3. Or if not murder, accessory to the fact. Carter-Lloyd claims that a mysterious Martian woman released her and that she doesn’t know of the murders. While I give credence to existence of another party and believe her account has merit, I’ve yet to reconcile how this could all happen without a journalist noting more than she did. If she didn’t kill the brave troopers that were foully murdered that day, she knows who did and never cried ‘alarm’.

4. Treason/Criminal damage. Who destroyed the heliograph? That’s obviously criminal damage, but preventing or obstructing her majesties forces from operating I believe may be a treasonable offence. If it wasn’t her, then it was this supposed associate and again she’d be an accessory.

5. Theft. This one is given, as she’s admitted stealing a Gashant in writing.