OOG: Starting the next thread :-)

Wednesday, June 20th, 1889 1:00 PM

Forty minutes later by Robert's watch, the caravan arrived at the meeting area. The men greeted each other, laid out rugs, and sat down to share a meal. Food and drink were brought out, and the leaders began to eat.

"We should have time for the authorities to arrive," Louis observes.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:05, Tue 14 Apr 2020.

Robert observes for a while as well sharing the telescope with Louis.  "I can move further down the ridge line and set off the rocket from there.  If the fuse is long enough I can get back away and we can avoid being chased down."

Upon examination, the signal rocket has a rather ingenious ignition device that gives up to a ten-minute delay before it launches.

"We should move away from here first," Louis says. "While I hate to be predictable, perhaps we should go back the way we came, since we now know the lay of the land."

Robert finishes setting up the rocket and then nods.  "Definitely darling.  Let's trot though to make what distance we can." He sets the fuse and then heads back in their previous tracks through as much cover as possible.

The pair sets off back the way they came. Ten minutes later, to the tick on Robert's watch, the signal rocket launches high into the atmosphere, deploys a small parachute, and, drifting gently on the wind, burns with an intense red light.

"I do hope the Navy is watching," Louis says dryly.

Robert settled behind a low rise next to Louis.  He pulled his pocket watch out, a battered but serviceable and expensive piece that had served him well in the navy.  When the rocket fired he watched it for a moment before turning the telescope on the caravan.  "Well, if they see it there is nowhere to run for the caravan."

After a few minutes, Robert sees that the rebels have elected to quickly withdraw instead of tarrying to find out who launched the rocket. They hastily transfer several wooden boxes matching the descriptions he's seen earlier in the investigation, and get underway back to the west.

The caravan drivers are seemingly nonplussed, and they continue to eat lunch - after an obvious confrontation. The leaders on both sides sit and gesture expansively, and Robert can see that they are yelling even though his glass. After a couple of minutes, the rebel leader passes over four hand-sized bags to the caravan leader. They all stand, exchange Martian handshakes and goodbye greetings, and part ways.

"I really hope it's that easy," Louis murmurs.

Robert watches, sharing the telescope with Louis.  "Well, maybe but it never is that way.  They may have airships of their own to complicate matters.  We know that this caravan deals with the smuggling and we know where the smugglers are headed.  That's a tremendous advance so far." He swept the horizon looking for their airship.

Thirty minutes later, the caravan packs up and starts moving westward. There is no sign of an airship, friendly or otherwise.

Robert shook his head.  "Let's follow the smugglers then.  We can leave a message at the site of the rocket shot." He walked back to the scorched earth where the rock was launched and wrote a quick note outlining the situation and the direction in which they were heading before placing it under a small cairn of rocks.  "Can I borrow a bright scarf or such to add to the cairn darling."

"Certainly, Darling." Louis reaches for her bag - and then she grabs Robert and shoves him next to a small outcropping. "Down!"

The flat "WHAP" and crack of a bullet passes just over Robert's head, followed two seconds later by the boom of a rifle somewhere to the west.

"Ooof..." Robert grunts as he slams up against the rock.  With a quick glance at Louis he scrambles behind the outcropping and grabs for his own rifle.  "Thank you Love.  What did you see?  Less than half a mile by the sound."

Louis presses against both Robert and the rock. "I saw the glint from a glass, and then a puff of dust as he fired." She looks around them. "The cover here is scant, but his range is long, too."

The land here is relatively level, with the next outcroppings, barely head high, thirty yards or so to either side of them. The land is rougher to the south, but they'd have to cross two open areas about ten yards each across to reach better cover.

Robert considers the options. "I'll fire at him to keep his head down if you can run to the cover.  Let me take a couple of shots first and draw his attention."

Louis looks to their left, and then she nods. "I will need to drop my pack, though."

Robert nodded.  "You can cover me and I'll scoop it up.  Take your weapons and water just in case."

Louis leaves her canteen slung across her chest, and checks her rifle and pistol. "Ready."

Robert rustled around in his pack and pulled out a half full bread sack.  He tossed the bread back in the pack, filled the sack with rocks and readied his rifle. "I'll toss the bag to the opposite side you are going, lean out and start firing and then you run."

"Understood," Louis says.

When Robert tosses the bag, another shot rings out, and the round impacts the ground two yards further away from where the bag lands.

Robert leans out, catches sight of another glint in the distance, and fires a round. At the same instant, Louis rushes to the next rock. She arrives there without incident, and she smiles across the gap at Robert. Lifting her rifle, the American peeps around the rock, and then settles back. "Nothing," she calls across to Robert.

Robert watches carefully but the glint does not reappear.  He sighs in relief as Louis makes the run across the open.  "Keep them covered while I get ready," he calls out softly.  Robert gathers up his own as well as Louis' gear.  "Fire a couple of rounds to keep their heads down.  I'm coming across."  Once she fired Robert sprinted, zig zagging to the cover.

When Robert moves, Louis levels her rifle and fires twice, the gunshots reverberating off the rocky terrain around them. This time, there is no incoming fire.

Louis looks southward. "Once more, and we can reach that low area." She points at a place where the ground drops off into a wide trench. There's about fifteen yards of open ground to cross to get there.

Robert sets himself up to cover the likely locations for a sniper. "I'll cover you."

Louis gathers herself, and then dashes across to the trench. She moves down a few yards, picks a spot, and brings up her rifle. "Ready," she calls.

Robert takes one last look and then dashes in a zig zag fashion to the trench.

A shot rings out, followed instantly by Louis' return shot. Robert hears the bullet pass just ahead of him as he changes direction. He makes it into the trench before the rifleman can fire again.

Louis is watching him with wide eyes as he arrives. "Are you hurt?"

Robert rolls on the ground as the bullet had encouraged him to dive and roll into the cover.  He sat up and patted himself and then shook hi shead. "No, it seems I'm fine other than a bit of pride.  Did you see where he fired from?  Does it seem like one gunman?"

Wednesday, June 20th, 1889 1:45 PM

"There's a hill about three hundred yards west that seems to be higher than most of the land hereabouts," she replies. She sighs and looks at Robert. "I have a bad feeling about this, my love. I can't prove it, but I think there's more of them, and they're after us."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:49, Wed 27 May 2020.

Robert glanced around quickly and nodded. "I will always trust your instincts Louis.  If we're outnumbered and they are after us then let's get out of here as quickly as we can.  If we knew that the air launch was coming then I'd say hole up somewhere and wait but without rescue they can starve us out pretty easily."  He looked around for a covered escape route.

OOG: Refer to the map in the Dropbox...

The wash they are in runs roughly southwest for some three hundred yards before ending in a jumble of rocks. Most of the ground here is open, although there are areas of rock and broken ground that offer decent cover. The hills surrounding the wash are twenty to thirty feet high, with the suspected gunman's hide being about forty feet at the summit.

There is little cover to the east to reach the ridgeline. But, there are more areas of cover to the south and west.

"We have food and water for perhaps three days," Louis says. "Either way, if they come at us here, we're exposed to their fire."

Robert nodded.  "They can fire right down the wash and take us like sitting ducks." He glances around.  "Let's work down the wash to the rough ground at the end.  We can work around the flank or just continue going."  Robert headed off down the wash.

Time: 1350

It takes the pair five minutes to move 150 yards down the wash to where a jumble of boulders from a collapsed bit of higher ground has tumbled downward, blocking up about half the wash with head-high rocks.

They see or hear nothing during their move.

Robert took a deep breath as he looked around.  "They have to expect us to make a break for it.  Still, we don't have much choice."  He thought.  "We'll both run together to the cover, weaving.  Up until now we've gone one at a time."

Time - 1352

Louis takes a full two minutes to look at the three hills covering a 120-degree arc from southwest to northwest. She comes back to Robert and sighs. "If I were hunting us, I'd have riflemen on all three of those hills. As it stands, we are right at three hundred yards from each of their most likely hides. The center hill's line of sight will be blocked by that small hill just west of us, and, if we stay here, the northwestern shooter can't see us." She points southwest. "That leaves the southwestern position, if there's anyone there at all."

Robert makes the same examination.  "Well, I can cover that one hill while you make a break for it.  Is there anywhere in particular on the hill, near the crest, that you'd use as a hide?"

"Yes," Louis replies. "There are plenty of places to belly up. I'd focus on the closest group of rocks. Are we moving to that little rise to the west? It's about fifty yards of open ground, but there's cover once we get there."

Robert looked for the point Louis indicated and nodded.  He covered his rifle with a blanket to avoid glint and then settled in. "West, that looks best and we can work our way south or around the back of the hills to the north if we need."

Louis nods and plants a quick kiss on Robert. "Cover me, will you?" With that Louis slips away through the rocks, presumably working her way westward.

Time: 1357

Three minutes pass, and then five. Then, a shot rings out, and Robert hears the crack of the bullet, a distant boom of a rifle, and he sees a puff of dust and smoke on the crest of the hill to their south-southwest, right where Louis said a shooter might be hiding. He estimates the range to be about 350 yards.

Robert smiles and nods, his attention focused on the crest of the hill.  As the shot rings out he fires in return and again quickly.

Everything goes quiet, and Robert sees nothing of note. His shots landed right in the rocks at the hilltop.

Seeing things go quiet Robert ducks back and moves his way down to the end of the wash.  He looks about again to the summit of the hill and calls out softy for Louis.

Time: 1400

He hears nothing from Louis as he moves southwest through the maze of rock and piles of gravel. Then...

Robert's instinctive reflexes save his life - he sees a powder flash from the hilltop, and jerks his head back just as a bullet passes through the space his head occupied. It smashes into the rock behind him, spattering him with bits of shattered jacket and gravel.

Robert lets out a loud cry of pain and flops up and back just in sight of the shooter.  He throws the coat up so that it looks like part of his body and then scurries immediately forward out of sight of the shooter to set up a new hide to watch the point of fire.  Hopefully they will think him dead or injured and show themselves.  He is worried about Louis but knows they have to deal with the foes.

Another bullet comes in, hitting near Robert's coat with a flat thwap. A faint boom echoes from the hill, and Robert spies a puff of rifle smoke and dust from a narrow space between two rocks.

OOG: Roll for your shots, as needed...

Robert peers through his vernier sight, takes a moment to settle on the target, and fires. The Sharps barks and pounds his shoulder, but he ignores the recoil and moves to the side to avoid a return shot while still watching the spot between the rocks.

Two seconds, and then four pass - and then he sees sudden movement in that spot. Something is appearing and disappearing, but he can't tell more with the naked eye.

Robert curses softly as his shots ricochet off the rocks around the location of the sniper.  Seeing some sudden confusion around the location he takes the opportunity to run down the wash into the cover of the broken rocks.

Time: 1402

Robert makes it into cover with no further shots fired.

Robert scans the rocky area and calls out softly for Louis again.  He's worried but without the sight of violence along the path she would have taken he's curious.  Making a decision he moves quickly through the cover toward the hill.

Robert travels perhaps twenty yards through the jumble of rocks, and then he spots Louis. She's lying limply on her side next to a rocky outcropping, her rifle next to her.

Robert examines the available cover and throwing a rock in the opposite of the direction in which he was headed scurried over to Louis.  Staying low he bent over her.  "Louis, are you ok?"

Robert notes a fresh bruise he can cover with the pad of his thumb on the left side of Louis' head, between her ear and her temple. She's breathing, but she's out cold, and he doesn't see any blood or evidence of other injuries.

Robert gasps as the injury to his wife but goes into immediate trained action.  He checked her quickly for other injuries and then settled her to be more comfortable.

As he works with her, she stirs and opens her eyes. "What happened? I heard a shot, and then something smacked me in the head."

Robert offered her some water. "You have a bruise on your temple.  I would guess you were hit by a ricochet.  He's still out there the bastard."

"We need to get to cover," Louis says after accepting a little water. "Can we make it to that hill?" She points west over about fifty yards of open ground. She appears to be well; her speech is normal, and her eyes are clear and focused.

Robert looks closely at her and then examines the open ground.  "You are the better shot with a rifle than I.  It would be best for you to cover me first and then move yourself.  I can fire and then move while you snipe at him when he reacts."

Time: 1408

"I will," Louis moves over to a large rock and settles in. "Look at this," she says, holding up a chunk of rock. "It has some of my hair on it, so this must have struck me." She lifts her rifle. "Ready."

Robert frowned.  "That was too close.  You'll need to rest for a while after this little dance.  Head injuries are always uncertain." He kissed her and then moved ten yards or so down through the cover.  Leaning out he fired quickly generally toward the last location of the sniper but not really trying to hit, more to draw attention.  He immediately moved quickly toward the next set of cover to flank the hill.

Time: 1413

Louis rejoins him after a moment. "My I have your spyglass? Something looks odd on that hill where the sniper was."

Robert hands Louis the glass as he scans the ridge to over her.

Louis takes the glass, puts it to her eye, and sits still for a moment. "Look at that little saddle about three yards left of that pink rock that's high up by itself." She hands over the spyglass (oog: or binocs?).

Robert sees what looks like dark red paint on the rocks where Louis directed him. "That sure looks like blood, a lot of it. Wasn't that the place the sniper was hiding?"

Robert takes the spyglass and carefully focuses on the spot on the rock. "You're right.  It could be a head shot or a trick.  Cover me and I'll make my way to flank that spot.  If he's dead then good... if he's still hiding then we flush him out."

Time: 1415

Robert takes six steps out of cover, and then something slams into his right hip, sending him sprawling in the dust! A boom from somewhere to his right is counterpointed a heartbeat later by Louis' rifle shot.

A moment later, she is at his side, crouching next to him. "Come back with me, Robert!" His right hip feels like he's been kicked by a horse.

Robert groans as he is hit and attempts to roll into at least somewhat better cover.  He lays back and immediately tries to apply pressure to his hip. "Ahhh... damn... did you get him Louis?"

"I did," Louis huffs as she drags him back into cover. Between the pair of them, they determine that Robert's Webley died in the line of duty, taking a heavy lead bullet directly to the cylinder. Between the weapon's bulk and the tough holster leather behind it, the bullet didn't make it though to Robert's hip, but caromed off the cylinder and out through the holster's back. The Webley's cylinder is shattered, and the upper frame is twisted at the takedown latch. It will need the services of a gunsmith to make good of it.

It takes them five minutes to determine that Robert isn't bleeding, and nothing is broken, but his hip is badly bruised. Louis' smile is a bit tremulous, and her eyes are moist. "We have at least one more shooter, on that hill to the northwest. Can you still walk?"

Time: 1420
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:52, Sat 13 June 2020.

Robert was expecting to bleed out on the Martian desert.  When it seemed that his pistol had given it's all for him he sighed with relief.  Pulling Louis to him he hugged her and then kissed her passionately.  Robert pulled back from the kiss quickly but held her.  He looked down at the damaged gun.  "I'll be limping and that bruise will be with me for quite a while.  Let's take the pistol back with us; it deserves to be fixed."  Robert shook his head.  "It's supposed to be a bible or whiskey flask that stops the bullet but a pistol is appropriate."

He hugged her again and peered off to the northwest.  "They won't know that we took out their comrade.  We can skirt that way to make an approach to the last shooter." 
This message was last edited by the player at 03:08, Mon 15 June 2020.

Louis laughs in relief and returns his kisses and hug. "Let's go get him, and hope that's the last one. I wonder where the navy is, maybe we should use the other rocket."

When Robert looks toward the northwest sniper's last known hide, he spies a bit of crimson cloth among the rocks, and then he sees a gun barrel reflect the light as the sniper moves.

Time: 1421

Robert shakes his head. "We need to deal with this threat first before firing the rocket.  He'll just pick us off."  He stiffens and points as the gun barrel flashes.  "There, the red cloth and rifle.  He's moving off, let's circle around behind him."

"Do we go west, or south?"

"Let's go south and work our way around.  It will be less direct but more effective I think."

From their vantage point, the southern sniper hide is 250 yards away, and only the middle 100 yards has cover. The western sniper hide is 200 yards away, and all of that is open ground. From his hide to the northwest, the sniper can cover the entire area.

"Maybe one of us can stay here and watch?"Louis asks.

Robert shakes his head.  "If we go back around to the west will we have more cover?  This seems suicide."

As Robert looks toward the sniper hide, he sees a glint of metal, and a bit of red cloth appear in the same spot.

Robert points out the color. "I will make another distraction and you fire at them.  You are the best shot with the rifle." He pulled off his shirt and rolled it in a ball.

"Yes, my love." Louis steps up to where she can see the sniper, and braces herself on a rock. "I am..." BOOM!

Louis' rifle barks, and she waits for a few heartbeats before letting out a sigh. "I hit him, I am sure of it." She turns to look at Robert with a sad expression. "He saw you, and was bringing his own rifle to bear."

There is nothing about killing she likes, Robert knows.

Robert made his distraction and then only flinched slightly as Louis fired.  He leaned over and cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "It's a harsh world darling.  I'm sorry for dragging you into this although it seems that we've been in the center of a maelstrom since we first met."  He smiled a bit.  "To be with you I'll take all that chaos and more."

Sighing Robert looked around.  "I think we can move up now around the flank of the last one."

Time: 1426

As Robert looks to the northwest, he sees a speck on the horizon, just to the north of the sniper's hide, in the direction of Avenel.

OOC: Is there a good way to approach?

As he watches, the speck resolves itself into an Aphid-class British gunboat, which is steering on a course to pass just north of them.

"The gunboat Louis," he broke out their other rocket.  "We'll use the approach as a distraction to get close enough to deal with him."  Working quickly Robert set up and fired their signal rocket.

The ship doesn't change course immediately, and then Robert sees it bear a few points south, steering to pass perhaps a hundred yards east of them. It's not yet close enough for Robert to see details, being some six hundred yards away.

"That's a different ship, isn't it?" Louis asks.

Robert looks closely and pulls out his telescope.  "I think you may be right.  They should still respond to the rocket."

As the couple watches, the gunboat comes ever closer, angling more toward them, but holding its altitude at a hundred feet as it approaches. Soon, Robert can make out the crew manning the ship's single light cannon and several machine guns. None of them are pointed right at them, but the crew is clearly ready for action.

The aircraft draws to within thirty yards, coming to a full stop. At a hundred feet long, with its weapons and riveted iron armor plating over its vitals, the gunboat is imposing at this distance. Unlike many Martian vessels, she has no mast or sails, depending instead on her propeller for movement. The boiler hisses out a cloud of steam as the pilot reduces power on the propeller at the ship's stern, and the liftwood vents at the bottom of the hull move rapidly to stabilize the ship at rest.

These are, Robert knows, the largest warships in the British Navy on Mars, and there are only a half-dozen in service.

The starboard side machine gunner peers around his mounted five-barrel Nordenfeldt, his tanned visage alert under his shock of brown hair, topped by a dark blue British Navy (Aerial Branch) beret.

A short, blocky petty officer steps into view, and deep male voice calls to them. "Ahoy there! Are you Commander Robert Darlington?"

Robert stands as the ship approaches, careful to not expose himself to gunfire.  "Ahoy the ship!  "I am Commander Darlington and my wife Mrs. Darlington is here with me.  What ship?"  He gazes admiringly at the well built and beautiful lines of the airship.

The petty officer steps up next to the rail. "We are H-M-S Hawkwing. Mind the ladder, and we will pick you up."

The ship slides close to the outcropping, her keel a bare yard above the rock as she comes to rest ten steps from Robert and Louis. A pair of ratings deploys a ladder from the ship's starboard side just forward of the gun sponson. It unfolds using a spring-dampened mechanism, and locks into position.

OOG: These ships are noticeably different than what's depicted in the rules, being deeper in the hull and generally larger. The basic shape is the same, though. For the ladder, picture a folding attic ladder design, except this one extends up to twenty feet.

Robert offers Louis a hand up.  "Well met HMS Hawkwing.  It is good to see you here.  Be wary, there is a fellow out there."  He pointed; "With a rifle."  Robert helped Louis to mount the ladder and followed her.

Louis mounts the ladder ahead of Robert, giving him an awesome view of her shapely bottom as she climbs. He detects a slight bit of extra wiggle that confirms her view of his admiring her view. She disappears from view up onto the deck as Robert reaches the halfway point.

The ladder itself is a work in burnished steel and polished wood. There isn't a spot of grease in view, and the only dust is from Louis' boots. He looks up to finish his climb - and then a pair of girlish squeals erupt from somewhere above him.

Robert rushes the rest of the way up the ladder, only to be greeted by the sight of two women standing face to face. One is Louis, clad as he last remembered. The other is her doppleganger, clad in the uniform of Her Majesty's Navy, with the shoulder boards of a lieutenant commander, and the gray beret of a ship's captain on her head.

They both turn to him with matching grins on their faces.

Robert admires the view.  Certainly there is a method to his madness and being a gentleman doesn't always mean not admiring your ravishing wife.  He regarded the cleanliness and attention to detail on the ladder as well; clean and shipshape spoke of discipline and effectiveness most likely.

When he arrived on deck Robert snapped out.  "Request permission to come aboard... ahhh..." His jaw dropped as he saw his wife's double in the Navy uniform and wearing the captain's beret.  "What?  Ahhh... ma'am?"

"Robert, come meet my cousin," Louis says excitedly. "Oh, well, I mean this ship's captain, of course."

The captain turns to face Robert, and everyone who isn't manning a position braces to attention as the petty officer calls out, "Attention on deck!" Since Robert is in mufti, no one salutes, though.

"Welcome aboard Hawkwing, Commander Darlington. I am Lieutenant Commander Meghan Wilder, and I am Louis' first cousin."

Robert doesn't salute but he does come to attention and nods slightly in acknowledgement of the honor.  He relaxed after a moment and looked first to Louis and then to her near double.  "Captain Wilder," he made a bow.  "Thank you for your hospitality aboard your magnificent ship ma'am.  It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance especially a cousin of Louis."  He looked at his wife. "I had no idea you had relations on our side of the Atlantic let alone any in the navy."

"We haven't seen each other since we were eight," Louis explains.

"Louis, Commander, a moment please." Captain Wilder turns to her petty officer. "Brian, take us up to five hundred feet, and start looking for armed people on the ground."

"Aye, Ma'am," the petty officer says with a nod. He turns to issue the proper orders to the crew, and the captain turns her attention back to Robert and Louis.

"I came to visit once, and we spent a month running all over the place near her home," she relates. "After that, we lost touch, since my parents fell ill and died after we returned home, and I entered an orphanage. All of my parents' living relatives were in America, and attempts to reach them apparently failed."

"A kindly couple, a retired commodore and his wife, adopted me, but they allowed me to keep my family name. When I came of age, they sent me to college, and helped me earn an officer's warrant. So," she grins, "here I am, a little Irish waif."

Robert nodded as he listened to Meghan's story.  "What a uncanny world we live in.  What writer of opium addled fiction could put you and Louis together like this."  He chuckled.  "How long have you been here on Mars and had command?  My own service was more terrestrial."

Meghan moves the conversation to the starboard bridge wing, where she bids them sit on the flag locker with a gesture, while she leans back on the rail. "Oh, would you like to have your gear stowed? I can have my yeoman send it to our one spare stateroom."

With that cared for, she continues her narrative. "I have been on Mars for two years, and in command of Hawkwing for a little over six months. The circumstances are a bit unusual, as several command officers requested reassignment about a year ago. Some have said that they are scraping the bilges for us new commanders, but my own people have been known to challenge that assertion."

She glances at Brian, and everyone sees the burly petty officer flushing like the port running light. "Begging your pardon, Ma'am, but they were crude about it."

Meghan smiles. "As you told the Commodore, yes."

"Yes, Ma'am. If I may, are we looking for one person, or several?" Brian glances at Robert and Louis as he speaks, and his gaze lingers on Louis' face for a brief moment before he turns back to his captain.

"Sir?" Meghan looks to Robert.

Robert nods in response to the settling of their gear.  "Thank you kindly ma'am." Robert is still very careful in addressing Meghan properly even though his tone and body language are relaxed.

"We've been on Mars not six months ourselves,"  Robert glanced at Louis.  "It seems like a lifetime certainly."  He chuckled approvingly at Brian's response.  "A good crew will follow you to hell and make sure you get back in one piece for sure."  He shook his head.  "Scrapings  or no it's results that count.  Command of a vessel such as this is an answer to a prayer for certain."  Robert was very approving.

At the question about the man down below he headed to the railing and pointed.  "There were three, we killed two.  The third was about there," he pointed.  "He may have tried to make himself scarce."

Over the next ten minutes, Robert guides Hawkwing to the three sniper hides. They find all three men dead of massive head wounds. There is no sign of other people, and the ship spirals to five hundred feet, while the lookouts scan the area with their powerful binoculars.

They soon spot the caravan headed west - and another group south of them, headed south!
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:33, Tue 07 July 2020.

Robert quickly fills Meghan in on what has transpired over the last few weeks especially the activities around the weapons smuggling.  "That is the caravan in which we traveled. The group heading south must be the smugglers carrying the weapons."

"That won't do at all," Meghan says. She issues orders to turn her ship toward the southern caravan and close on them. "What are your orders, Sir? Do we intercept them, or trail them?"

Robert thinks only for a few moments. "Dozens or more lives will be lost if those weapons reach the rebels.  Swing around to sunward and we'll take them out if you please Captain.  Tracking them down would be useful but we do not have that luxury now with war at our doorstep.  We'll try for prisoners who might give us more information."

"Aye, Sir," Meghan says with satisfaction in her tone. "Mind yourselves with any incoming fire, though. People can be unpredictable." With that, Meghan goes to command her ship.

Hawkwing turns west to put the afternoon sun behind her, and then she swings to the southwest, descending rapidly as she approached the caravan. The steam engine chuffed, and heat roiled out of her stack as the propeller drove the flyer at full speed.

After a few minutes of maneuvering, hailing the caravan, and a burst from one of the Nordenfeldts, the caravan stopped at a wide spot in the ancient riverbed they'd been following. Meghan ordered the people to stand at the front of the caravan with their hands in plain sight, an order punctuated by the ominous snout of the ship's four-pounder pointed in their direction.

"I have an away team of four Marines to assist you," Maghan says. She smiles at Louis. "I presume that you will be going to greet them in person."

Robert watched the maneuvers of the ship with pride and great enjoyment.  The ship was obviously well handled and the officers and crew well trained and disciplined.  So it was when they had the caravan cowed into obedience that he smiled. "Well done Captain, well done.  We'll definitely want to interrogate the caravan.  The marines will be welcome as these rogues are desperate and their allies have already tried to kill us a couple of times."  He checks his weapons and heads back to the ladder to confront the smugglers.

When Robert, with Louis right behind him, arrives at the head of the caravan, he sees that the four Marines have spread out to cover the caravan with their rifles. They stand with their weapons ready, but not pointed at anyone.

Behind them, Hawkwing has lifted up to fifty feet to give her gunners a better field of fire, and to allow her lookouts to see further in case the caravan has aerial helpers about.

As the couple walks up, Robert recognizes two of the Martians as drivers from their original caravan. All of them, perhaps a dozen adult males and six older juveniles, are scowling at him.

"What is the meaning of this," the apparent leader says with a glower, his ears flat against his skull. "We are unarmed and peaceable folk, carry first aid supplies to our brothers." His English is nearly flawless, and only carries a slight Martian accent. From the network of knotted ropes draped around his neck, Robert determines that he is an assistant tribal chief, and a battle leader of some higher rank.

Robert bowed in acknowledgement of the Martian's rank but then shook his head.  "Rifles, weapons smuggling, treason..." He looked about.  "Step back and away from the caravan, keep your hands clear."  He pointed to a place where the guns of the marines and the ship could cover them. "If you have peaceable supplies then you will not mind a search.  If all is well we will leave you in peace to go with our blessing."

A chorus of low mutters from the drivers greets Robert's orders, but the leader stills them with a raised hand. "Step aside, brothers. Your lives are worth more than what we carry. Do not argue, for they will shoot us without hesitation."

The drivers do as they are told, and two of the Marines move in, covered by their comrades. A few minutes of searching yields the weapons and ammunition cache. Louis verifies that the entire shipment is present.

"We got it," she says to Robert.

Robert stands impassively, pleased that the Martian had chosen not to fight.  He sighs just a bit as the weapons are found.  "Now that the unpleasantness is addressed, let's get down to business.  I don't intend on slaughtering you all out of hand.  We've put a stopper on this route of getting weapons.  It won't work again although I'm sure another way will spring up soon enough."  He pointed to the leader and two drivers from the caravan.  "You three will come with us for now while we ask a few questions."

Louis turns to see a pair of sailors moving toward them, and notes that the ship has descended to load the weapons crates. She goes to assist them while Robert deals with the caravan leader.

The three Martians do Robert's bidding, and they wait for him to speak.

Robert is quiet for a moment as he thinks through the ramifications of his plan.  "The supplies can continue on to your people.  Her Majesty's government would never restrict food and medicines to anyone on any planet."  He knew that was not always true especially in times of war but Robert had no desire to cause unnecessary harm.  "You three are coming with us along with the rifles.  There was an attack on my wife and I that almost killed us.  You will be questioned and released after we determine if there was any involvement."

The Marines help Robert take the three Martians into captivity. One of them, a grizzled corporal, searches each of them with the air of a man who has done such things before. He collects several knives, done in the wickedly curved style popular here, along with two revolvers and a brace of percussion lock pistols.

Soon, the group is back aboard Hawkwing, and Meghan turns to Robert after ordering the prisoners secured below. "Should we go to our base in Avenel, or to the Yard in Syrtis Major?"

Robert let's the sailors do their work with the 'guests'.  He watched for a moment and then climbed aboard the ship.  When Meghan returned he thought for just a second or two. "Back to the Yard if you would please Captain.  The news we have of this smuggling must be shared at once."

"Very well, Sir. We won't be able to make the Yard until after nightfall, and we aren't allowed to operate at night unless it's a dire situation. We can retire to Avenel, or we can lay over at the refueling station west of Syrtis Major, which we can reach by twilight. In either case, we will be at the Yard on the morrow.'

Robert shrugged. "Avenal would be best if you would ma'am."

Thursday, June 21st, 1889 3:00 PM

Robert and Louis stand at the rail, watching as Hawkwing settles into her docking cradle. The ground crew runs out the gangway, and the ship's boiler hisses loudly as steam is vented away from the drive turbine. Behind them, the prisoners stand in a group, with the ship's Marines in close attendance.

Robert and Louis had enjoyed a restful night in Avenel as guests of the base commander. They'd had a bath, a good meal, and a wide, soft bed for the night. Louis had taken advantage of the bed, and they were both happily tired the next morning.

The flight from Avenel had been uneventful, and they'd had time to visit with Meghan Wilder. They told her their story, and she related how she'd struggled with institutional misogynism in her journey to becoming a Queen's officer. "I've had to be twice as good to measure up," she'd said.

The next morning, they'd risen with the sun for the flight to Syrtis Major. They'd seen nothing of military interest on the flight, though Robert did see that their original caravan had arrived at the canal docks south of Avenel, where the nuns' humanitarian goods were loaded onto canal boats.

Now, Meghan steps up to the couple with a smile. "You may debark at your leisure, Sir. We will bring your baggage along as soon as we are secured."

Robert deeply enjoys the time aboard the Hawkwing.  He doesn't offer advice or comments but watches keely all aboard.  The time alone with Louis was equally pleasant as he celebrated the the relief from the dangers of the past few days and the new life carried by Louis in the privacy of their room.

As they talked to Meghan Robert nodded his head slowly in sympathy.  "Times and traditions change slowly in the navy.  Not too many years ago it was considered bad luck to have a woman aboard." He shook his head; "Foolishness..."

When they reached Syrtis Major Robert extended his hand to Meghan.  "Your hospitality has been superb as was your timing in rescuing us Ma'am."  He remains formal in sight of the crew and officers.  Robert lets his voice grow a little louder.  "You have a crack ship and crew.  It has been a pleasure to ride aboard her."

"Thank you, Commander Darlington," Meghan says with a warm smile. "I am due back here in a week's time for a minor refit. Perhaps you and my cousin will have dinner with me?"

Robert bowed; "It would be a pleasure Captain.  If you wish we can host you in our club.  You should find the company most stimulating."

Meghan nods. "That sounds wonderful. I shall contact you when I return." With that, she goes to attend to her duties.

Louis turns to Robert. "So, can we go home, now?"

Robert bowed slightly to Louis and offered her his arm.  "Of course my dear.  I received a letter while we were docked at Avenal that all of our problems have been solved.  Apparently the British attache here had a talk with his German counterpart.  Gelber was sent packing back to Earth with charges dropped in exchange for dropping them against us."

He led them through the well kept grounds of the naval base to the gate where the chief petty officer in charge of the guard hailed a cab for them.  Passing on their address to the cabby Robert leaned back with his arm around Louis. "Let us hope we have a time to relax and enjoy our marriage and your pregnancy."

Louis giggles. "The question is, my love, will you enjoy what comes after the pregnancy?"

Brent nodded slowly.  "I look forward to raising a family with you Louis.  The details of babies, diapers and such not so much.  I would assume we'll have a nurse at least to take some of the burden from you."

"Yes, but you'd best behave yourself. I'll find the homeliest woman in Syrtis Major!" She nudges Robert in the ribs. "Maybe you will still love me after I get fat with the child."

Robert chuckled.  "As long as she's clean and diligent she can resemble a goat for all I care."  He smiled at Louis and kissed her.  "A pregnant woman has a beauty and desirability all her own.  I think you will have no fears for my ardor darling."

"Goat, indeed!" Louis smiles at her husband. "Take me home."

Robert kissed Louis on the cheek and made a little 'baaa...' sound.  He gave her a slight pat on the derriere and then offered his arm as they headed home.