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