Fort McMurray appeared to be peaceful and in order, and our heroes rose on the 27th unaware they had missed the Christmas celebration arranged by the NCOs and the quartermaster for the men while feasting with the Caravan Master.
Phipps and Hartwell, out and about before Forsyth had finished messing about with uniforms and Shakos and Jones’ fussing, saw miss Carter-Lloyd speaking earnestly with a trooper just outside the heliograph tower. She seemed to be trying to persuade the private to do something, and passed him a piece of paper, then kissed him in a manner not explainable as familial affection.
Phipps was outraged and, with Hartwell in tow, hurried over to the tower where he confronted the private and demanded first, an explanation, then second, the paper miss Carter-Lloyd had given him.
The private’s stammered explanation did little to assuage Phipps’ outrage, and when the doctor read the contents of the paper his blood boiled and whatever warm feelings he had held for the Carter-Lloyd woman were driven from his soul and replaced with withering disdain:
Dateline: December 27th Fort McMurray
Scenes of debauchery and unrestrained fraternization at Fort McMurray.
Last night, during an impromptu feast provided by the wagonmaster of a caravan, your reporter was shocked to witness scenes of such licentious debauchery between certain members of the garrison of Fort McMurray and the Martian ladies of that caravan she almost swooned. This disgraceful breach of military discipline, common good manners and, dare one say it, public hygene went on in full view of the so-called "Heroes of Fort McMurray", particularly the commander pro-tem, Captain Forsyth, who seemed more interested in scoring points with the wagonmaster than in providing leadership and proper guidance to his men. One would have turned to Mr Hartwell, but that worthy has "gone native" in a disappointingly short time and was clearly hung over from the previous night, during which he had become extremely indisposed with what looked like the entire Martian contingent of the garrison, all with Captain Forsyth's implicit support I might add. The lauded Dr Phipps might have supplied some much-needed British backbone but he has been a complete boor in my dealings with him. One suspects some unwholesome habits of a medical nature. It is this reporter's opinion that the Empire would be best served by the immediate recall and cashiering of Captain Forsyth and the deportation of Dr Phipps and Mr Hartwell, and the urgent dispatch of a commander capable of turning this Martian Seraglio back into a military strongpoint before it is overrun by the forces of Shastapsh. Phoebe Carter-Lloyd.
Phipps had Forsyth summoned and, when that worthy appeared, handed him the would-be heliograph. Forsyth went many colours in the next few seconds, but masterfully brought his emotions under control and prepared to give the wretched woman a piece of his mind when she let out a cry and her face was lit by an awful green light as a loud crackling sound filled the air.
Fearing another attack by the emerald ray that had killed Major Langdale, Forsyth bravely leapt to one side but was able to recover his composure when it proved to be merely the perfectly normal corona discharge from a teleportation device operated by none other than Professor Wilhelm
A round of quick introductions was made, and then the business at hand resumed. Phipps declared that the Carter-Lloyd woman was obviously suffering from hysteria and ordered her confined to her quarters for her own safety. Forsyth was happy to concur and two beefy and trustworthy other ranks were detailed to escort the loudly protesting Miss Carter-Lloyd to said quarters, civilian women for the use of, lock her in and arrange a guard and meals and so forth.
Forsyth was announcing his agenda for the day when his plans were, once again, cast into a small pile, doused in lamp oil and set alight.
A very badly used standard bearer rode up to the fort on gashant-back and, when given entry and water, gasped out a terrible story of a cavalry patrol dispatched from Moerus Lacus had been ambushed by Shastapsh forces wielding silent rifles of some sort, which had enabled them to gain total and devastating surprise. The officer in command of the patrol had ordered the trooper now telling the sorry tale to ride for Fort McMurray, save the colours and summon help.
Forsyth assembled a force of mixed Martian and British troops, and with the standard bearer as a guide rode forth to render what aid he could, though privately, out of the hearing of the brave standard bearer, he expressed doubts that the patrol had survived. Matters were complicated slightly by the fact that neither Hartwell nor Phipps could ride, yet Forsyth could not let either stay behind. Phipps’ medical skills might be desperately needed, and Hartwell simply would not hear of being left behind. The newly-arrived Wilhelm also mounted-up, eager to bring aid and comfort to the stout British lads and as much refusal of aid and discomfort to the Shastapsh swine as was humany possible.
Arriving at the site of the ambush, Forsyth’s gloomy prediction was borne out. The patrol had been wiped out to a man.
Pausing only to arrange a sort service for the dead and cover the corpses as best they could, the relief force began tracking the Shastapsh incursion. Hartwell’s tracking skills turned out to be all the Martian contingent could expect from “The Steppe Tiger” and he was able to give Forsyth the tactical edge by predicting where the force was heading and how strong it was - approximately twice the numbers of Forsyth’s own force.
And thus Forsyth was able to engineer a classic ambush of his own, bringing down half the enemy before they had a chance to realize they had been handed a helping of their own medicine.
Such was the carnage that the Shastapsh soldiers were thrown into disorganized, dismayed, demoralized disarray. A few soldiers took up defensive positions and returned fire with the odd-looking rifles, but the silent nature of them was tactically moot as the air was full of the roar of massed Winchester repeater fire, for Forsyth had equipped his men with these marvels of modern weaponry.
The fight was savage even though disorganized on the part of the Shastapsh force, and most of Forsyth’s martians - including Lieutenant Ph’sback - were lost in the firefight after a brave flanking move which proved to be the pivotal maneuver which turned the tide, with the surviving Shastapsh soldiers surrendering and Forsyth’s men capturing two dozen silent rifles.
These seemed to be ordinary Winchester repeaters but for a large cylindrical structure mounted on the muzzle of the rifle. All bore the mark of Cairo Munitions. These were confiscated, of course, along with a couple of dozen gashants. Once they had been stripped of the garish Shastapsh accoutrements and re-trained the would be a valuable addition to the garrison stables.
Despite the victory, it was a sad group that returned to Fort McMurray, bearing their dead on travois.
No comments:
Post a Comment