Sunday, February 27, 2022

Personal Letter from Capt. Henry Forsyth, RE (ret.) to his brother Clarence.

Letter from Capt. Henry Forsyth, RE (ret.) to his brother Clarence.

Mars, late evening following dinner with the governor (again).

Dear Brother,

I trust you are well and the gout is less troublesome. I am pleased to hear that you that have gone to the spa and are partaking of the waters. My good friend the doctor here tells me that, what he calls ‘the ammonia content’, will kill off any infection.

The back-brace you describe on the chair, while lowered into the pool, strikes me as rather reminiscent of some middle age contraptions. I can’t quite recall where I’ve the seen the like, perhaps ducking stools or I recall a similar device in the dungeon at the Tower of London. What a ruse that was, what! Pretending to be ensigns to gain entry. Oh wait, I was an ensign!

I have to tell you that things have gone rather well here on Mars. In my last correspondence, I told you about the events in Thoth and my good fortune to be ‘ennobled’, if only by a lowly Martian prince.

Following that, a threat was removed from the Kingdom, when their aggressive neighbours and foe of the empire, suffered a catastrophic loss. Seems their munitions store unexpectedly exploded. I’m afraid I can’t comment on rumours of a surprise attack from unassigned British personnel. It would be unprofessional and immodest.

Our return to the capital was much feted. Indeed, a play was held in our honour. Sadly, a Belgium affair, which is what may have aroused my suspicion. After all, one simply cannot put the words ‘Belgian’ and ‘Culture’ into the same sentence without sounding utterly ridiculous.

As I suspected, the affair was a sham. The later cocktail party turned into a violent free for all, with the lethal Red Sands being released in an attempt to assassinate all the British hierarchy.

It was horrific, people transformed to monsters in the blink of an eye. The perpetrators, foul villains that they are, had planned to watch. But I and my companions had other ideas. I don’t mind admitting privately, I’d carried a concealed revolver to the event.

I know how monstruous that must sound, but I was vindicated. The evils visited in that room are such that I cannot commit them to parchment. We escaped with our lives, with the Governor and many leading lights of society here. Some lost their lives in the most horrific of conditions.

As you have probably heard, the opera house, the jewel here on Mars, was burnt down in the chaos. It’s a sad loss, but I take comfort in that the loss could have far worse.

It is true that I directed the fire crews to damp down and preserve the surrounding buildings. I judged that the structure of the opera house was already lost to the flames and preventing the spread of the fire seemed to me to be the priority.

Naturally, we tracked and traced - I apologise for my poor use of language, not an expression I can ever imagine being used. In mean to say, that our enquiries led us to the house of a supposed scholar, previously employed, by the late lamented Reverent Fogg and I believe previously by either Waldorf or Stadler.

We managed to find the corner this traitorous dog called home. Within we found evidence of the dastardliest plot to destroy the British Army on Mars, with a cowardly attack planned to use this deplorable ‘Red Sands’. An evil that cannot be countenanced.

We set off in pursuit, it seems their airship had left our capital shortly before, to attack our gallant troops from behind. At the airship enclosure, we were near to dismay, our quarry was already on the horizon, how would we hunt it down?

Then there was our old friend the Wasp, building a head a steam. Seems she had been chartered by a group of hunters. By great good chance, I’d met them on Venus, exchanged a loyal toast and when I cried ‘for Queen and Country, I need this ship’, they waved their charter and joined us in the pursuit.

We were underway with minutes and managed to keep the smaller enemy vessel within sight for days. Indeed, with a combination of luck and some skill, we were able to close.

Then the unexpected happened. The accounts we’d read described a dread vessel as being invisible. Now we understood, as this vessel appeared from nowhere before our eyes. Its considerable arsenal fired, our vessel was shaken, but now stirred.

Although now facing a much larger vessel than our own, with a much larger crew, we lost no time in grappling. Indeed, had we not done so, we could have faced more horribly superior barrages than we had to endure anyway.

As we did so, the foul villains swung from their rigging to our decks. Meanwhile a pitiful few of my colleagues made it over the gunwale to the enemy deck, our advance checked by the threat to our own ship and the limited boarding point which meant we could only leap into the fray one at a time.

The heat of battle is always hard to remember. For sure the brave Wasp was in jeopardy and it fell mostly to the crew to deal with the foul boarders. For a long time it was touch and go, but eventually British pluck won the through.

It left those very few of us that crossed to the deck of enemy ship somewhat exposed to superior forces. Thankfully we had the covering fire of the original hunters, who had charted the vessel and now made sport on behalf of the empire, their great elephant guns at least keeping the enemy out of the open.

It soon became apparent, that all of the dastardly conspirators were aboard. All known to be skilled fighters and fanatics to boot. They employed many a fiendish device, strange occult weapons with deadly powers.

We were outnumbered and outgunned and although my revolver grew hot with the action, the situation seemed all but hopeless. We fought to a standstill.

Then the Wasp finally cleared its decks and her brave captain led the remainder of the crew over the side. Sadly, I have to report, he was cut down in short order.

With supporting fire from a machine gun regained by the marines, the tide turned in our favour.

I have to mention by batman, Jones. Despite my reservations as to his character, he does somehow manage to turn up with the unexpected. He can be trouble have no doubt about that, he has a knack of finding himself in difficulties, yet he has also found ways of getting us of scrapes. He gave admirable supporting fire on this occasion.

Moreso, it was he that realised one of the enemy cannons on a mid-deck was at liberty and prepared to fire into the Wasp at point blank range. The consequences would have been dire. He called attention to it and directed his fire there.

It was enough that the one shot they got off was so misdirected as to only be a glancing blow to the Wasp and another disaster was averted. Thereafter he fired on a powder keg, with resultant explosion dislodging the cannon.

Slowly we advanced across the deck on the enemy, a more lethal combat I’ve not experienced. These were all merciless killers with abilities the likes I’ve never seen. Their weapons were strange and monstrous, truth to tell, we were badly outmatched.

Yet we had the one truest weapon of all – hearts of oak. For surely nothing can withstand British courage and so we fought with all the conviction of rightness, for Queen, for Country, with ne’r a backward step.

The acts of bravery are too many to recall, everyman giving his all.

So it was that the enemy now depleted, showed his true colours, the last turned and fled.

We paused a moment; the deck was ours!

As I prepared to face and root out the enemy below decks, the good doctor realised the danger. Clearly beaten, what were the those remaining foul fiends doing below decks, with this mass of Red Sands a weapon more lethal than anything known.

Their ship would never reach it’s intended target, their plots, their plans were over.

The body of the gallant Captain Thurgood was recovered, most regrettably others were not. We made haste on the Wasp to be up and away from the inevitable.

We saw the last of villains, all but the leader that is, dive from the ship in strange costumes that seemed to control their fall. But then the great enemy ship convulsed and exploded. Its deadly cargo released harmlessly over a barren desert. The falling craft and its contents overwhelmed those villains with their strange descending apparatus. Fittingly, they became victims of their own plot.

It was heavy toll. We lost many good men and as I looked around my comrades, we all carried injuries. The doctor and to a lesser extent myself, were hard pressed to treat the wounded. But we had the satisfaction of victory.

So, dear brother, the course is run, the plot defeated and the empire saved.

Yet there is one small detail. The leader of this evil cabal, a Martian, had some strange device which allowed him to move anywhere in an instant. He disappeared from the deck using this device. So, I believe him still at large.

I write as I recover from these momentous events. Of course, such a small action, will never trouble the public consciousness and perhaps it’s best that way. I rely on your discretion as always when writing.

I believe I am well regarded by society here on Mars, but what the future holds I am uncertain.

But for now, the Empire and by extension, humanity, is safe.

Yours Respectfully,

Henry

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