"Let's go back and keep up the charade for now.  Keep your weapons nearby but if we do have to resort to shooting our way out it will most likely end badly."

The couple returns to their campsite, where Louis ensures that their packs are ready in case they need to depart suddenly. She even leaves one of their bedrolls packed on Robert's backpack.

Night falls without further incident. Louis lies down next to Robert, having just removed her boots.

Robert sighs as the sleep.  "Leave your boots on Louis, we may need to get moving quickly." He checks their weapons.  "Let's get up before dawn and look around to be safe."  He leans over and kisses her as his hand strokes her belly.  "One day we can relax and enjoy ourselves."

"That's why we're here," Louis says as she pulls her boots on. "My ancestors on Earth fought all comers for a better life, and we must do the same for our children." She relaxes as Robert kisses her.

"Maybe they won't come tonight, after all." Louis lies down with her revolver next to her hand.

Robert lays back and glances up at the stars so much brighter here on Mars than Earth because of the thinner atmosphere.  He smiled and kissed Louis. "I am honored to be your husband Louis.  I'll fight shoulder to shoulder with you if it comes to that my love."  He checks his revolvers as well and lays them out nearby.  "They will come early in the morning before we wake if they come.  I'll get up after midnight and stand watch."

Robert and Louis converse quietly for a few minutes, and then she sits up to allow her husband to sleep for a while.

Soon, she shakes him gently. "Robert, it's midnight."

Robert wakes instantly from a deep sleep.  He's used to waking for night watches aboard ship and in emergencies.  He kisses her lightly and takes his pistol in hand.  "Get some sleep he whispers, I'll keep watch."  Robert opens the slit of the tent enough to see at least a bit outside.  Fortunately the night is quiet enough.

Almost exactly two hours later by Robert's watch, he hears at least two pairs of feet walking toward their tent. Whomever they are, stealth isn't one of their strong skills.

Robert pokes Louis and rolls quietly up to crouch at the entrance to the tent.  He takes care to stay in the shadows.

The footsteps approach the tent, one set at the front, and one at the back. There might be another person at the front, but Robert isn't sure. A moment passes, and then the canvas tears as knife blades appear through the fabric and start cutting.

Robert fires up through the tent at where the knife cut.  He continues his roll outside.

Through the ringing in his ears from his own shot, Robert hears Louis' Webley bark from behind him. He comes up on his knees to see a heavyset man down on his back, clutching a knife in one hand, and a bloody wound in his belly with the other.

The tent is half down, and Louis is nowhere in sight. Another man is standing about twenty feet away clutching a Martian designed knife and staring at Robert in shock.

The night sky is mostly clear, affording Robert enough starlight to make out a man-sized figure at fifty yards. He knows that this weather won't last the night, as he can smell the rising dust on the light breeze. There is a sandstorm coming, and it will be here soon.

Knowing that Louis could take care of herself equally or better than him Robert brought the gun up and fired at the man with the rifle.  Perhaps they would have to escape under cover of the sand storm.

OOG; Roll for Robert's shot (Close combat skill (<10yds) - 5), 1d6, 6 is a miss, lower is better. Damage is 2d6 in close combat, and the target can save on a 2 or lower.

OOC:  Not the best...


14:50, Today: Robert rolled 6 using 2d6.  Damage.

14:50, Today: Robert rolled 5 using 1d6.  Attack.

The heavy revolver bucks in Robert's hand, and the man staggers, clutches at his chest, and falls.

Off to his left, the tent fabric rustles, and Louis pops her head out of the door. Her hair is in wild disarray, and she brushes it down with her hand as she tries to fit her hat to her head.

Robert looks around quickly to see if there are more foes.  "Grab our packs Louis, we're going to need to clear out."

She ducks down and tugs their packs out of the shredded tent, stands, and passes Robert's to him. She holsters her pistol, slips her arms through the straps, and settles the pack on her back. Then, she draws her pistol. "I will watch while you attend to your pack."

Robert nodded and moved quickly to grab his pack.  As he dragged out his gear he again for the hundredth time or more added Louis' quick wit and steady attitude in a crisis to the many reasons he loved her.  He didn't need to say anything as much between them was unspoken.

Shouldering his pack Robert went over to the two dead men and made a quick check for ID or anything else of interest.

All three men (Louis shot one, Robert shot two) are barely alive, and beyond help. Neither of them have any identification documents, nor do they have any items that Robert and Louis do not themselves have. (For example, one man has a compass much like the ones the couple carries.)

"Okay, where to?" Louis asks. "Wherever we're going, we need to move quickly."

Robert gathered his gear up quickly.  Fortunately they were already mostly packed in anticipation of danger.  "Let's head west along the main canal.  They would expect us to head east back or across the canal to the north.  They'll need to keep moving and hopefully won't linger to search for us.  Once we're clear we can signal the airship and follow them from a distance."

"I think that's a good idea," Louis says.

With that, the pair moves out. Louis' skill as a hunter shows in her instinctive use of terrain, and her innate caution when moving into unknown areas. She follows her husband's lead as they pick their way across the rough and broken Martian wilderness.

Robert quickly kisses Louis as they head out into the desert.  Nodding to her he motions her to lead.  "You have the wilderness experience Louis. Lead the way.  I'll bring up the rear in case we are attacked."

Louis leads Robert through the Martian countryside, first to the south, and then west to parallel the caravan route. The air is cold, but the couple is well used to such things, and it goes unremarked.

The stars shine down on them with a brilliance rarely seen on Earth; the vista is only broken occasionally by wispy cloud cover that scoots past on the ever-present wind. Toward awn, Louis stops to step behind a rock to pee, and to vomit a little as her morning sickness strikes. Soon, she is ready to travel again.

Sunrise finds the pair on a ridgeline that overlooks the caravan route. Robert estimates that they have moved about five miles to the west from where they were attacked, though they covered at least eight miles afoot, working their way through the Martian landscape. The caravan's path though the dry creek bed is clear, even at a distance of eighty yards.

"They will be along before lunch," Louis opines. "We can rest here for a while." She looks to her husband for his opinion.

Robert remains vigilant as they head away from the camp although as the signs of pursuit do not materialize he relaxes a bit.  He enjoys the beautiful evening as the stars remind him of the night sky on the open sea.  "A spectacular night is it not?" he steps up closer to Louis as they move along the open land.  When Louis stops to pee and then vomits he offers her a canteen of water, his face sympathetic.

"It's for a good cause dear."  He hugs Louis and kisses her lightly on the cheek.  After looking around he spots a good, sheltered spot with a view. "Definitely, let's settle in and rest.  Why don't you get some sleep first."