Sunday, September 19, 2021

Episode 32: The Raid on Shastapsh

The Adventurers had beaten off the dastardly coup attempt and dealt with those who took part, but a new threat was raising its head in the form of a recovered letter detailing a threat to back up any failure with the spraying of some sort of mind-control powder over Thoth and the subborning of the armed forces by ... The Brotherhood of Luxor!

The Prince of Thoth showered the brave Earthmen with praise, and the noble houses of Thoth agreed that an alliance in the form of a treaty with Britain would be a good and honorable thing in light of the obvious high character and loyalty of the British people to the people of Thoth and their Royal Family. Mr Smith stayed diplomatically silent rather than point out his nationality to those Martians who praised him mistakenly as British, then quietly corrected the narrative to include friendly Americans. No member of the team could walk abroad without drawing nods of approval from High Caste Martians, respectful bows from merchants and cheers from labourers.

And if there were any that felt differently about the state of matters, they made sure to keep to the shadows and remain unobserved. The Prince was as popular as ever, and the people all seemed to view his continued rule as a positive thing, and his new friends as worth cultivating. Thoth influence would surely grow, as would her markets, and Shastapsh could perhaps be brought back to the negotiating table with the arrival of British troops and cloudships.

This new plot was worrying though, and the Prince asked if his new friends, so obviously capable when it came to martial matters and possessing marvelous British armaments far superior to those that Thoth itself could manufacture, could perhaps travel to Shastapsh, locate the place where this dreadful mind-control dust was stored and attempt to destroy the stockpile.

The team immediately agreed. They were riding high on adrenaline and felt invincible when it came to putting Martians in their place. They had the Wasp for transport. They had their fighting skills and spirit. And they had their implacable determination to thwart the vile Brotherhood of Luxor at every chance they could, until the opportunity presented itself to bring the leadership to heel and enact justice for the terrible things done in that organization's name.

The morning began with perhaps two good omens. Firstly, a message from Captain Turngood sayng that he had been approached by an Englishman asking for passage back to Syrtis Major. This turned out to be one Dr Phipps carrying an impressively large medical bag. He was quite eager to obtain passage to Syrtis Major, and as a result was perhaps rather too easily persuaded to join the adventurers on their proposed sortie. The other was when Forsyth recognized a former lance corporal of his acquaintance standing in the crowd, dressed much like a Martian. The poor soul had obviously hit on hard times and "gone native". Forsyth and this man, lance-corporal Jones spent some short time getting re-acquainted before Forsyth suggested he needed a factotum, someone to "do" for him and Jones was so grateful it was almost embarrassing.

During this meeting, Smith was approached by a Martian noble and a merchant who, in broken English, informed him that they were pleased to meet someone from the Kingdom of America, that they had heard of the wonderful new repeating muskets carried by the cavalry there and that they wished to obtain perhaps 25 of these marvelous muskets with maybe 100 rounds of ammunition for each weapon. These weapons would be issued to a special unit of soldiers raised by this Noble for the service and greater glory of the Prince.

Smith declined to be drawn into this proposal, and the Noble and merchant took polite leave of him.

Waldmont noticed that while this was going on, two sinister figures in hooded robes were observing the conversation using a monocular, and were apparently recording what was being said by lip-reading. He trailed the figures to an alley between two large properties but lost them there.

The team staked out the alley, then decided to investigate, and were rewarded by spotting that they were being ob severed from both rooftops. On one side this proved to be a residence block of terraced apartments, but a concierge would not allow the team access to the roof after a conversation between Jones and the concierge became very heated. A small contingent of militia turned up, and the argument shifted to being between them and the concierge, so the team decamped to the other building to try their luck there.

This, being a sort of souk or bazaar, proved to be a better bet, but Waldmont got caught up in a seemingly endless transaction with a merchant leaving everyone else to investigate. Forsyth went up to the roof and wandered over to the parapet, where his eye was drawn by a sudden flash of reflected light. Leaping to one side he was narrowly missed by a crossbow bolt. He drew his pistol and fired at a fleeing figure (cloaked, sinister) but missed his shot. The fleeing figure leaped over the further parapet in a move Forsyth had seen last in Meepsoor when a Brotherhood saboteur had made it to escape over the side of the Wasp.

A short argument broke out again when Forsyth came down to report as the concierge had followed the team dragging the militia along with her, but the merchant busy instructing Waldmont in how to haggle sharply pointed out that the team were in fac the very heroes that had saved the Prince from insurrectionist scum, and the militia officer told the harridan to go back to her desk, saluted the adventurers with a very tired expression on his face, ordered his troop to about face and got back to the business of keeping the peace.

Postulating that the Brotherhood was possibly in on their plans the adventurers made plans quickly and left on the evening of the third day, setting a course to fool any observers and travelling only by night. There were two close brushes with Shastapshi kites over the course of the two-night trip, but the Wasp was able to evade them both without an exchange of fire. The days were spent grounded at anchor, the Wasp hidden under camouflaged tarpaulins.

The team were dropped off outside the Shatapsh city wall and made their way stealthily into the city on the search for the warehouse storing the mind-control dust.

Things were going well, and information was gained thanks to Jones's streetwise abilities, but then the adventurers ran into a patrol and Jones's powers of persuasion proved not up to snuff wen challenged by the officer in charge. The officer grabbed his sword hilt and Phipps, wound tight by the tension, drew and fired.

The fight was short. Phipps was quite severely wounded by the halberd-wielding guards and soon the team were obliged to surrender. They were disarmed, chained and marched off ... to the warehouse they were looking for! Chained to the wall of this building the team were able to detect that the warehouse was some sort of grain store, was very dusty (the ventilation slits were voiding a veritable mist of powder), and that dust smelled faintly of the Red Sands that Forsyth had encountered in Colorado.

Whispered conference produced the opinion that the atmosphere in the warehouse was highly explosive. If only there were some way that a flame or spark could be introduced into that building the problem of the "Mind Control" dust could be dealt with in a flash. Talk of lobbing a lit fuse through one of the vemtillation slits was quickly quashed by consideration of the force of the resulting explosion. It was known that similar explosions had wrecked dockyards on Earth. No-one standing in close proximity to this building could be expected to survive such an event.

Alternate talk of bombing the building from the Wasp was also abandoned when consideration of the effects of the blast on the ship were added into the discussion.

Jones chose this moment to produce the key to their chains, filched during their capture, and the adventurers freed themselves and stole into the night to make a workable plan.

Clear Credit: Map of Shastapsh from the board game Cloudships & Gunboats © 2000 by Frank Chadwick, published by Games Designers Workshop. Map reproduced to illustrate narrative. No challenge of copyright is intended. I do not have clear attribution for the art itself, the rulebook citing Interior art by Lauretta Oblinger. If the responsible artist will contact me I will attribute properly.

Thursday, September 9, 2021

Personal Letter, Colorado and later, Various Places on Mars, Captain Henry Forsyth (Ret)

On ongoing letter to Clarence Forsyth from Capt. Henry Forsyth RE (ret.)

Thoth, Mars, sometime in the afternoon.

 

Dear Brother,

I must apologise for my lack of recent communication. I trust your housekeeper advised of my attempted visit, it was crass of me to call unannounced, but time is continually pressing in the most infernal way.

We left Denver, at the same time as my last letter, crossing much of America by train and hence hotfoot back to England. I cannot express how good it felt to be back in civilisation, to be able to visit a decent tailor and be back among properly mannered folk. The manners of the Americans are rather rough.

Alas, I had so little time to spare and you had taken the family into the country. I did manage to call on our parents and was pleased to find them in rude health. Naturally I could not reveal the true nature of my business to them, Mother always worries so. I’m afraid I cited ‘government business’ as the reasons for my travels and absence. But in this I am truthful, for we met with some senior people.

The plots against Europe I previously spoke of have mostly been thwarted, but I fear not entirely. You will be aware of some disturbances in London. Again, look to the coded letters, I left the more recent ones with your housekeeper. She seemed trustworthy enough despite the strange accent. Where is she from prey?

Sadly, it was necessary for my colleagues and I to depart post-haste for Mars! Our party has been joined by Walmont’s brother, of course he is a little shunned with the vile lies reported about his dead brother. But I saw the truth of the matter, which I’ve previously recounted.

It was a sad occasion when we collected his body from a poorer place as I’ve seen. It was clear that the villains there intended us ill. We took the coffin on a cart to head towards civilisation and a long journey that has been.

These rough types with guns, bad intentions and in dire need of some decent dentistry, came after us. Well, it was easy enough to set an ambush and once again turn the tides. Franky I’ve come against spear armed natives in the Punjab who could teach these fire armed bumkins a thing or two. How we lost a war to these ill-mannered louts is beyond me.

Their leader was a different sort of cove, most capable, but he had the misfortune, or good fortune as it transpired, to meet the fist of Fogg. A straight knock-out! Of course, we questioned him once he regained consciousness. A quiet remarkable thing occurred, Fogg reasoned and prayed with him and the man broke. Swore he’d follow the path of righteousness and in his eyes, you could see he meant it. It was most moving and the good reverend never ceased to impress me. We let the fellow go, even gave him his horse and gun back.

I digress, the need for us to pursue the evil villains behind all this chaos is as strong as ever. With great regret I joined my comrades on the first available ether flyer to Mars, which is where the dastardly coves have flown, before I had time to arrange a visit. I regret the inconvenience, but the stakes could be no higher and I am duty bound.

Here on Mars things are in a very delicate position. I daresay you will read soon enough of some setbacks to our forces and a massacre of a column of our men. Things are finely balanced, our empire sits on a knife’s edge, nay a precipice which we are already sliding toward. Our grip here is tenuous at best and could easily end with outside forces over-running us or a repeat of the Indian Mutiny. Forgive my precipitous words, I seek only to convey the import of the situation.

At the heart of this is undoubtedly this shady, evil and unholy organisation which we are tracking. If we can cut of the heads of this hydra, not just the Empire, but humanity may survive.

We have had some adventures already here on the Red Planet. Bad and good. We accepted a diplomatic mission to Thoth, because that was the matter of most import on our arrival. The invite was to those legends Wilhelm and Walmart, the latter being dead and the where-abouts of the former not known.

As my colleague Burke is in the Foreign Office, he was entrusted with the mission of securing a treaty with this city state. Failure and the British possessions would be surrounded by hostile states. Success and there is a counterbalance to the worst aggressor against us.

So, we took flight in an old flying craft across the skies of Mars. It’s rather like being on a steamer, smoke bellowing out, the wind in your face, except one is flying, most remarkable. Our first stop was Meepsoor, where sadly we were subject to sabotage. Although once alerted we did for all but one of the wretches, they fatally damaged the ship and killed some of the crew.

We were able to order parts and with it came replacement crew, so it merely delayed us. After which we have across the Idisis desert, but that was no plain sailing either. On one occasion, moored at an oasis, we were subject to a night attack by a gang of thieves and murderers. Once again British mettle was to the fore and we saw off the vermin.

We were strangely dogged by privateers, who seemed to show up far to regularly to be co-incidence. With one such trailing us we saw a dreaded Martian sandstorm on the horizon heading towards us. Thankfully I have my telescope and was able to spot a canyon where we could reach shelter.

Even there I can tell you that the Sandstorm is a horrific experience; without the right equipment a man will surely die. But much debris fell on our rigidly anchored vessel placing it great peril. Seems the kite pursuing us had flown overhead, arriving in the sanctuary too late. Out in the howling winds and swirling sands we found a mast and rigging strewn across our vessel.

One of the anchor ropes was torn out. The reverent Fogg made a gallant attempt to secure it, but it was more than one man could do, but together we made fast the bucking ship that was threatening to tear itself against the canyon walls. Sadly, a crewman had also been killed by the falling debris.

After the storm was over, we rapidly came upon the wrecked hull of the enemy vessel. Curious, actually, very curious, (and this may be my downfall) as to why this ship had been able to follow us, I insisted that we investigate. But everyone was for this anyway. Burke, Fogg and I descended on it.

I confess I fatally assumed that all would have killed by the crash. A mistake I vow I will not repeat. There were two hatches on the deck aft and fore. Fogg and I took the fore, while Burke took the aft, in hindsight another mistake.

While I enjoy the company of extraordinary brave people, I also yearn for simple military disciplines, which would occasionally serve us better.

Below we found a hold full of hostile Martian marines lying in waiting. They’d heard us board and prepared weapons. Although only muskets, they can still take you down and I can testify to the hurt they cause, especially when there’s a whole company of them.

Burke was all but killed in a fusillade, I was severely injured and decided to go back and call for reinforcements, why Fogg thought he could dish them all single handed I know not, but he’s performed just such miracles before.

After shouting up top for the marines, I tried to give covering fire from the hatchway. Walmort arrived and we descended, by then the good Rev., neigh the very esteemed reverend had taken critical wounds and was at the mercy of those alien scum.

Those loathsome creatures actually tried to negotiate with us, but both Burke (also at their mercy) and Fogg yelled out NO! I have little experience in negotiation, but to deal with these foul creations was beyond all bearing. Death before dishonour! It was shortly decided by the appearance of our own gallant marines. Answering my earlier call, those fine fellows dropped through the aft hatch and rapidly proved too much for their Martian counterparts. It was all over in seconds.

Burke, ailing badly was removed to the ship. But Fogg, that fearless man, who dealt divine justice and retribution on one hand and saved souls on the other, was in the arms of the Lord. I mourn him. One of the greatest characters I’ve stood alongside. I hope his spirit lives on.

We had more fire encounters as we probed below deck. Walmart had joined us before the final encounter with the marines. He led the line on clearing a couple of others.

We found several things on the lower decks. First and foremost, must be Wilhelm, a captive of all things! But it’s our good luck finding him on this mission, as he’s a named friend of the royal invite we have.

We also found some American gentleman, I do use the term in its widest possible sense.

I also found why they were able to follow us. A tracking device on their bridge. A tripod device, much like I’d use for measuring distance, but this pointed to our ship. Back onboard, after an ordered search, well, that is to say much was searched, we found an orb and the two devices followed each other. We have them now, so maybe we’ll get the opportunity to turn the tables.

Fogg was buried with all due ceremony. A larger than life character, he will be much missed.

We eventually reached Thoth, with the great good fortune to have Wilhelm once more part of our little band. We were warmly welcomed and a ceremonial banquet held in our honour! Of course, I’ve experienced such things before in India, but this had a certain affection about it on the one hand and a very great deal of tension on the other.

The urgent request for those great hero’s came from the Princess, whose life they had previously saved. It seemed a coup from the enemies of the Empire was imminent. So, we were quartered close to the Royal Family as added protection for them.

Alas, some of their guard proved disloyal and a fierce hand-to-hand fight took place between guards. The loyalists barely prevailed, but they did and raised the alarm. It was clear to us that this must have been a co-ordinated action, with the true rebels about to show their face.

There were two staircases to the Royal chambers, I fortified one and barricaded the other. If we could survive the night, then loyalist troops would surely make short work of the traitors.

We shot their exploratory duo with ease. Thereafter they blew-up the other blocked stairway, rendering it useless, a tactically naive move. They used some very old style bomb grenades, but, at risk, we were able to lob these back, I simply pinched the hissing fuse out of one.

The problem of working with civilians in a military situation, is that they don’t stick to a plan and forget the objective. So, they forgot the defensive position (and the primary objective of protecting the Royal Family) and carried the attack to the enemy in a very uncoordinated way.

I’m not sure that they appreciated that I remained on station in order to ensure the objective. While fine fellows and courageous to a fault, they can be a little excitable in combat. Only when I felt I could tip the balance and the assailants could no longer reach the Royal Family did I join the fray. Besides Burke could still act as a last line of defence, he’d done exactly the right thing by firing on the enemy below from the vantage point of the hole left by the explosions and given the enemy a lot to worry about.

As I feared it was foolhardy and I was quickly rendered hors de combat. But I’d done enough and the day was ours. Thankfully Wilhelm with one of his remarkable devices from which he is rightly famous, was able to restore me to health. What a fine fellow he is!

The plot was defeated, the enemy all dead bar two who fled, but I doubt will outrun retribution. Amazingly for such a small act, we are treated as royalty. I believe I have some title now, which I will learn to pronounce in due course.

The treaty is signed and will be hopefully returned soon, I am sending this letter with it.

I may say dear brother that I may have put the slightest gleam on the family name. But we now face a far greater challenge for we shall have to carry the attack to the enemy. They are armed with deadly and despicable weapons, which we must cut off at source before they can be deployed. How we do this in this inhospitable environment is currently beyond me. Yet we have to try even if it means all our lives.

On a more positive note, I met our young cousin Bruce. I briefly ran into him in London, a chance encounter and I greeted him, “nice to see you”. He chucked and said “yes, that’s it, before responding in kind, although I think he got his words round-about.” I fear he may some notion of becoming an entertainer!

My most earnest regards,

Henry