Tales from the Ether

Hugo had been spending the evening directing engineers. Kurtz had overseen the process, although he left it up to Hugo who had decided to attach a pair of three pound Hotchkiss cannons adjoining to the immobile Howitzer and another two Hotchkiss’s on the rear deck. Kit barked at the soldiers who hauled the cannons in on little liftwood carts and they jumped back in alarm until Hugo shouted, “What in the damnedest hells of solar facing Mercury compelled you to bring that infernal creature with us!”

Kurtz, silently, had hauled the dog down to the Observation deck, where the armaments did not intrude, “You’re a good dog, Kit,” he told the canine, “Wait until they see you hunt.”

Friday was in Melas, he had been trying to negotiate his way into a Cult of the Worm temple without speaking any of the native dialects and not really having anything he would consider an understanding at this point even of the trade talk. But, speaking his elegant French he tried to sooth information out of the priests, he had been talking with a small number of cultists, none of them of any rank whatsoever, when it all happened.

Hans had a cigar. A cigar and his big Nordenfelt, the Belgian officers hadn’t minded his assistance in keeping order in Melas, all hands on deck.

The guards did not bother Friday, they assumed he was human, and not a real member of the cult, the others in the small quiet room had been hauled out quickly, their names checked against a list. Friday had pulled his gun out, but a soldier had recognized him, “Le Narcisse?”

“Oui,” Friday had answered, putting his gun back in it’s holster, none of this helped the Martians, or really helped him, “Je dois questionner ces hommes.”

“Hommes?” The soldier had just laughed, “Non.”

Friday followed as they were dragged out to thee square, he saw Hans at the edge of the square, one of the guards.

Someone shouts “Doel lage!”

Rifles ring out, plenty of single shooters contribute their fair share to this massacre. But on the far side of the square Friday can see Hans with his machinegun, and his big grin.

Friday did not ever have a high opinion of the man, just another dumb Catholic European set on his course without having ever understood it, driven by forces totally beyond his capacity to fathom. Friday had pitied the fool. Now he kept thinking back to London.

Friday had been giving a lecture on Mycobacterium Tuberculosis, on some of the work that Koch and Pasteur had been doing on the subject and the promise of antibiosis. The lecture was not well received, people spent a great deal more time concerned about phenotype than they were about hard science. They had not been able to fathom the lecture, too caught up in the messenger.

He had ended up quite upset at the time, wandering through the streets of London quite alone, finally he had wandered into a seedy bar.

An old soldier soon saddled up next to him, a veteran of the Boer War who wanted to know if it were a similar fate that had drawn Friday to “Blessed Britannia,” the man had almost spit.

Friday had not served in any wars, “No, sir, I am a Doctor from Belgium. Giving a lecture in town.”

The man nodded, but he did not go away. He wanted to talk of Africa, and he assumed that Friday would listen and Friday had listened.

He spoke of the Boers, vicious descendants of the Dutch. Violent and brutal men with no mercy on the battlefield who had laid waste to the Zulus, who had decimated his own unit, the terror he described, “Those Dutch,” he had shouted, and it was around then that the bartender began calling patrons around to pull the man out, “They’re worse than the bloody Irish! Ain’t even human!”

On that note he had been thrown out the bar, years later though, Friday’s mind wanders back to the man’s words.

Hans had a huge grin, his cigar hangs out of his mouth, the machinegun roars, bullet after bullet into the crowd.

“Ain’t even human,” Friday muttered under his breath.

And the blood pools in the middle of the square, Friday stared slackjawed, the total massacre, he couldn’t even believe what he just saw.

Slowly, in a daze, he began to walk back to the ship. The Martian desert between the walls and the ship seems endless in every direction, each moment seems infinite with the totality of horror, that treachery could arise from any direction. Massacres from the army! Ambush by martian rebels! The Sun could explode! Comets could crash directly upon his head! Everything could go wrong, 360 degrees are not enough to fathom the infinity of his horror. It could not even begin to cover the human elements of the terror.

Hans caught up to him halfway to the ship, patting him on the back, Friday pushed the hand off, “Leave me alone, you bastard.”

Back at the cargo bay Kurtz was petting Kit and looking up with pride on the new cannons, when he saw the others come up he waved to them.

“Goddammit Kurtz,” Friday said, “I’m a doctor, not a butcher. What the hell did you bring me out here for?”

Kurtz is no butcher either, a mercenary? Perhaps. A Soldier of Fortune? He would like to put it that way. Butcher? That just seems crass, “What do you mean?”

“Ask Hans,” and Friday charged back to his cabin for some quiet time to consider it all.

Kurtz looked over at Hans, who shrugged.

“Some Martians asked for trouble, they got it.”

“What?”

“Look, some people got killed, probably some civilians, all damn Martians, who cares?”

“Friday does,” Kurtz told him, shaking his head, “What are you seeing off the back end of that massacre?”

“What?”

“What’s the take?”

Hans frowned, shaking his head, “Ummm… nothing…”

Kurtz pulled his arm back and swung, catching Hans right in the ear. Kit suddenly leapt onto his chest, knocking him over on his back. Hans is taken completely by surprise.

Not that they had never brawled or exchanged friendly blows, but all of the sudden this fist had come in as a rebuke, completely by surprise. Hans is not angry, so much as shocked.

“Then don’t waste my damn bullets," Kurtz told him, "We aren’t here to do charity.”

Hans hadn’t been able to do anything but laugh.
 
The Lost Moon & the French Empire
Part III

Above the Lost Moon, the Corbeau began its descent, when all hell broke loose, and the clink of machinegun fire could be heard portside. Captain Meissonier cursed and ordered the Corbeau to open fire, maneuvering the ship above its smaller, less-experienced attacker. It was a pirate ether flyer, simply a scout ship. Captain Meissonier rushed to the heliograph lens and flickered to the French base below that a fleet of pirate ships was soon to be upon the base. Almost immediately, the French Aerofleet began to mobilize, lifting off from towers and launching aerial bases. Anti-aircraft cannon spurned out of the tops of the base's odd-looking structures. The buildings were like half-buried eggs. The defensive response was swift. Captain Meissonier, knowing his frigate couldn't possibly hold back more than a couple smaller pirate ships, and certainly not a single larger one, maneuvered the craft into an emergency landing, allowing the French Aerofleet dominance over the atmosphere of Juno.

Juno's atmosphere was indeed breathable, though like Luna, the deeper one went, the more breathable the "asteroid" would become. This was advantageous for the French research outpost there, which was digging underground, and digging deep. In addition, like the surface of Ceres, there were certain "pools" of atmosphere more breathable than other areas of the moon. The most dominant feature on Juno, a massive ancient citadel thought to be from the Vulcans, is situated in one of these atmospheric craters. A huge glass dome surrounds it now, and certain experiments in terraforming have taken place here that very few other nations are aware of...

The Corbeau made its emergency landing, effectively near the base and within one of its connecting atmospheric craters. The crew got onto the deck and observed the battle that ensued. Pirate flyers swooped in quickly and attempted to fire on the French base. The French Aerofleet was too much for them, though, and the powerful anti-flyer cannons on the French base made quick work of the faster pirate crafts that got past the French gunboats. The sky of Juno was flame and chaos, and the crew of the Corbeau was a bit shaken from the cannon impact, except of course Captain Meissonier, who remained calm and at ease. The crew emerged from the ether flyer as a small gunboat came whirling by and landed quickly next to the Corbeau. Emerging from the gunboat was a French officer, who greeted the crew and invited them into the gunboat. He escorted them to the French base, leaving the Corbeau in the landing crater.

"Sorry to leave her there like that, but look at this mess..." the French officer muttered. The explosions continued. "Damn pirates. Aye, that's what we call them. But we have our suspicions. Captured one bastard... told us some things, you know..." the French officer seemed perturbed, as if something was bothering him. Something was on his mind. He was slurring his speech, "They've been coming for years, and they probably knew you were on your way..." The French officer navigated the gunboat with a small crew into a corridor located within the French base. They were greeted by a group of men in uniform, and others appearing to be scientists.

Doctor Laffitte appeared nervous and began to sweat a bit. Captain Meissonier spoke to him. "Doctor... are you all right? You look a bit pale." The doctor smiled and nodded innocently. Captain Meissonier directed his questioning to the French officer. "Why are they so persistent just over some cultural relics?" The French officer looked irritated at this question and gave a simple answer.

"The artifacts here are very valuable. One could by an entire ether fleet with just a single crate-full..." Captain Meissonier looked satisfied with this answer. The crew stepped out into the corridor and another officer greeted the captain.

"Amazing! That emergency landing! And the fact that you had the pirates swinging and wasting their ammunition. I knew we picked the right man to deliver this cargo back to Paris." Captain Meissonier smiled and shook the hand of the officer, happy to have a more coherent authority to speak to.

"This madness," Captain Meissonier spoke, "all over some old alien artifacts." The officer smiled at him and patted him on the back.

"Pirates will steal anything to make some money."

Hundreds of men ran into the corridor holding crates upon crates of artifacts. One of the crates was opened and inspected by Captain Meissonier, who simply saw some complicated gearwork and interesting designs. "These artifacts are a bit advanced, yes? Amazing!" Yet, Captain Meissonier had no idea what he was looking at and did not at all think he was carrying to Paris a weapon of mass destruction. Hours later, the Corbeau had been piloted more neatly into the French base, and the cargo bay had been laboriously filled with the pieces of the giant mechanical man, the pieces that could be gathered any way. The crew of the Corbeau didn't have a clue what was in the crates, and Alexandre Dodart had been intentionally kept away from the loading hangar. The officers there knew that some holes needed to be filled, but they also knew exactly who would be capable of filling those holes.

The crew of the Corbeau was escorted to a resting facility underground. It was luxurious, filled with spirits, tobacco, and other vices. They tasted bread and soup and slept at the French base, exhausted from the day's events. Of course, Doctor Laffitte excused himself early, and attended a meeting - something unknown to the other crew members.
 
The four friends were meeting, quite late at night, with some mugs of good German beer - probably the only German thing René liked wholeheartedly - and a few toasts of bread with meat as dinner. They were practically the only people in the Blue Argo: apart from the two or three people that had been tasked with keeping watch, the remaining men had been given a free night to have some entertainment at the main British city in Mars, where they had docked. All of them had taken the chance, and were now having much fun down there, but they had been ordered not to take it too far.

That allowed Miguel, Gabriele, René and Ritter to discuss what to do now without interruptions. The recent offer made by the British Martian Army was a double-edged one: on the one side, it was very risky. On the other side, it was potentially very profitable.

"Do we go scout on those kraag?" Miguel asked.

"Don't know, Miki. Do we risk our necks for the money or not?" Ritter answered.

"I'd go for it. If we are careful, we find the information and get handsomely rewarded. I also remind you that, if we are to get the wireless, then we need more money," Gabriele said. "I already got all the components for the tests, but believe me when I tell you it won't be cheap to get everything else."

"How much do you need, Lele?"

"Well, right now I don't know, I'll be able to tell you when we get back to Earth."

"Well, anyway, that's something for later. Do we scout or don't we?"

"I'm leaning for the yes. Better if we do our best to help stop this war as soon as possible," René said.

"Alright, then. We will do it. Hopefully, we won't get killed by doing it. We do have those liftwood planks, so I suggest that we start to put them on, while someone goes and tells the army that we will be doing the mission they requested us to do."

"That is good." Miguel suddenly yawned. "Damn, it's late, isn't it?" He drank the last drops of beer in his mug and left it on the table. "With your permission, I'm going to get some sleeping, because tomorrow we will have to start with the refitting quite soon."

"Good night, man," Gabriele said, giving him a pat on his back.

"Good night, gentlemen," Miguel replied.
 
My profile, which I believe I am to suppose to post here. Story coming up this evening or, more probably, tomorrow, as long as Dragon Age: Origins doesn't distract me again. Bioware games should carry a health warning about the unhealthy obsession their plots can create!

Spoiler :
Dr. John Murphy (Doctor/Archaeologist)
British/Cambridge, Cambridgeshire
Languages Spoken: English, French, German
Inventory: Doctor's Bag and Supplies, Binoculars, Machete, Revolver, Excavation Tools, Blanket, Two-man Tent, Lantern, Heavy-duty Clothing, Rain Clothing, Travel Bag, Portable Camera, Portable Photography Lab
Money £65
Physical Description
Spoiler :
Dr. Murphy is reasonably tall and well-built man at 6'0 tall and 175lb. He is quite physically fit due to the number of exploratory expeditions he joined on Earth. His hair is a medium brown and fashionable cut in a style one would expect from a young middle-class gentleman. He has hazel eyes. His normal attire is a bowler hat and a ditto suit, the precursor to the modern lounge suit, consisting of a frock coat, waistcoat and trousers. The clothes are well-maintained but one can only do so much to remove the stains of years of travelling. When in the field more practical heavy-duty outdoor clothing is worn.

Background/History
Spoiler :
Born in Cambridge, raised in Cambridge and educated in Cambridge. Is it any wonder that once John completed his formal education in medicine and semi-formal education in archaeology at Cambridge University he threw himself into expeditions? He has practised medicine in Germany and France as well as working with those nationalities on expeditions, thus he is quite familiar with the languages but not fluent. His work on expeditions mostly involved treating various tropical diseases, including ones which are unknown to medicine, and thus he became very apt at improvising treatments based on local customs. He is now thirty three years old and has joined an international team, sponsored by German, to explore Mercury and locate and claim potential locations for a research colony to contest the British control of Mercury. The scientists are unaware at present of the second part of their mission. As far as there are aware this is an innocent mission of exploration, though they might have guessed.


Richard Smith (Chemist/Inventor)
American/Bolivar, Tennessee
Languages Spoken: English
Inventory: Chemical Laboratory, Microscope, Machete, Binoculars, Revolver, Blanket, Lantern, Heavy-duty Clothing, Rain Clothing, Travel Bag
Money £73
Physical Description
Spoiler :
A more slightly build man at 5'8 and 160lb. He is also reasonably fit though not as fit as Dr. Murphy or the Leutnant. He is dressed in a similar manner to Dr. Murphy. He has auburn hair with sideburns and dark green eyes.

Background/History
Spoiler :
Born in a small town in Tennessee the prospects of Richard Smith as a boy were poor. He would become a farmer or an apprentice to a craftsman and that would be it. Yet Smith was saved from this humdrum existence by the Church or more specifically a kindly minister with a large library and plenty of spare time, as well as patience. He realised that the young Smith had a keen mind and a great interest in the world around him, thus the minister took it upon himself, with the consent of the boy's mother, his father was never asked, to give him a sort of education that his family could ill afford. Smith applied himself with vigour and passion to these lessons, arriving as soon as his work had finished and sometimes barely making it home before his father returned from his fields. From these beginnings he went on to become the assistant to a chemist in Memphis and he soon surpassed that master in experimental skill, theoretical knowledge and the ability to hypothesise and analyse. However, as he lacked almost any connections to the scientific community, his career has deadpanned at an assistant level. He has recently left his last employer to embark upon the German sponsored mission to explore Mercury, hoping to find the discovery of a life-time. He is twenty-six years old but very skilled and knowledgeable for his age. It was his brilliance and obscurity which led to him being accepted onto the team. After all the Germans don't want to send any top scientists, their own or otherwise, only to have them disappear on landing.


Leutnant Friedrich Schulz (Military Officer/Pilot)
German (Prussian)/Thorn
Languages Spoken: German, English, French
Inventory: Binoculars, Navigation Instruments, Telescope, Machete, Axe, Revolver, Bolt-Action Rifle, Long Hunting Rifle, Bayonet, Blanket, Lantern, Heavy-duty Clothing, Rain Clothing, Travel Bag, Camp Stove, Two-man Tent
Money £54
Physical Description
Spoiler :
Lt. Schulz is a tall and powerfully built German soldier standing at 6'4 and weighing 180 pounds. He is at his physical peak. His hair is a golden-blonde in colour and his eyes are grey. He is dressed in the standard field uniform for a member of the German Ether Corp of his rank. He also has a field uniform and sturdy clothes for the expedition itself.

Background/History
Spoiler :
Lt. Schulz is a minor member of the German aristocracy and he was brought up in a manner befitting a Prussian noble. He was educated in the manner of nobility, taught of duty, honour, pride, leadership, war, hunting and academia. Schulz enjoyed learning of the glory of war and was an excellent shot so he was duly commissioned into the German Imperial Army as an officer. He has had some falling-outs with commanding officers of late and that is probably why he, one of Germany's top up and coming officers, ha found himself on a dead-pan mission to Mercury to babysit some scientists and make sure they do the job. He is twenty-five years old.


Jacques Moreau (Biologist/Inventor)
French/Morlaix, Brittany
Languages Spoken: French, English
Inventory: Biological Laboratory, Dissecting Kit, Microscope, Machete, Binoculars, Revolver, Blanket, Lantern, Heavy-duty Clothing, Rain Clothing, Travel Bag
Money £66
Physical Description
Spoiler :
Moreau is a short, bald pince-nez wearing French scientist. He is dressed again as one would expect for such a gentleman, however his dress is perhaps slightly dated. He is by far the oldest and least fit member of the expedition at 50 years of age. He has a little hair left, which is brown speckled with grey, and brown eyes.

Background/History
Spoiler :
A renowned biologist of his time, Moreau led significant breakthroughs in the understanding of liftwood and specifically worked on isolating the sap responsible for its extraordinary properties. This work was conducted at the University of Orleans and it is rumoured that a certain professor of archaeology, who was known to be a good friend of Moreau, may have acquired copies of the research paper. It is also rumoured that Moreau succeeded in his efforts but because he failed to make the process economically viable and thus the papers were ignored. Time and academic intrigue have dulled his fame and ended his career but he is still a creative thinker and an expert in exploiting biological phenomena for human gain. He is also an expert in the nascent science of biochemistry, that is the study of the chemical processes in living organisms, as proven by his research into liftwood sap, though he has conducted numerous other projects. Indeed this science is so nascent its name has yet to be decided though the term biochemistry was first used about seven years ago.

SMS Der Wanderer
Hydrogen Lift
Zeppelin-brand ether propeller
Power Plant A
Gas Turbine
Propeller: 10
Armament: 4 Gatling .50 (2 Forward Sponson and two Rear)

4 gunners, 1 chef, 15 other crewmen
Armor Plates: 1 tons
Cargo Space: 3 ton
Physical Description & Background
Spoiler :
A sleek craft 430ft in length with a beam of 60ft and a tonnage of 230 tons. A crew of twenty one is hardly enough to run the ship but they manage somehow. The ship is a gift from the German government for the length of their mission to Mercury and beyond, if the scientists and their pilot chose to carry on serving the German Empire. Der Wanderer was a prototype ship, a sort of ether clipper. The German Empire soon realised that a fast ship, primarily for trading, was not required and the project was mothballed. It has been refitted with the latest scientific equipment and its engines, which were already state-of-the-art, have received a few tweaks to make sure they are still cutting edge. Der Wanderer will become the face of German scientific exploration but first she must endure her shake-down cruise in the hands of various international explorers and scientists and one disgraced leutnant. The Kaiserliche Marine pray she will return safely. A curious note on the design of the ship, she is not a zeppelin; instead the hydrogen lift is held inside the ship to help protect it from the elements and any unwanted attention. The rubber membrane full of gas runs the entire length of the ship and is 40ft in diameter; indeed the lowest deck rests barely a centimetre above the gas.
 
Slowly the huge bay doors opened, doors which enclosed the bottom of the ship, they hid the Avalon. The sleek aerial flyer was released from its anchoring lines, slowly drifting down to ground level carefully controlled by Jack. It came to a rest about four feet off the ground and the crew clambered aboard, each taking a seat and fastening the five point harnesses.

William and Victor settled into the seats of the two rotating cannons, both checking to make sure that everything was in working order, it wouldn’t do to be undefended in the highlands. The Maxim machine gun in the raised turret at the back of the craft was occupied by Cornelia, a belt of bullets already dangled from the side of the gun. Jack sat at the con looking focused, checking everything, revving the engines and testing the control surfaces. When he was certain everything was in working order he revved the engines again and gave thumbs up to Jack.

“Take her out, nice and easy Jack” Lord Craven said.

Dust flew, and the engines roared, sun shined off the armored sides of the flyer as it streaked off towards the highlands quickly rising high above the Martian terrain.
 
Grapeshot, Hans smiles. He kills Martians here and he’s a hero, frankly, as far as he is concerned, he’s a hero for killing the nasty little freaks in any circumstance, but he has come to understand that the rest of his crew requires some sort of elaborate context to justify it.

Another shot goes off, the new smaller, rotating cannons were making his day. Grapeshot! A brilliant choice, he just loved it, watching shrapnel dig into legs and backs. Occasionally the Martians would try to swarm at the ship and Hans got to see it dig into their faces and chests, which he found hilarious, but which only lasted a moment before he was again shooting at their backs and legs.

A wounding shot is better, Hans has learned. Make these rebels care for the wounded! Good luck finishing your revolution like that! He laughs to see a big chunk of the grapeshot take a hand off of one of the rebels. The Howitzer barks out, knocking down fortifications.

At the helm, Kurtz and a Belgian Major point to a cave on the hillside, “Right there, they’ve got a lot of food stored up.”

“You sure?”

“Sir, with all due respect, we do not chase ghosts here, we fight wars. The intelligence is good.”

Kurtz, rebuked, shrugs, “I’m sure it’s spot on,” he says with a sneer, before marching off the deck, going to get his guns.

There is a company in the back of the Narcissus, all standing in the cargo bay and ready for what they call a “hot insertion,” with almost childlike, innocent, giggles.

More Grapeshot out of the new Hotchkiss, Hans keeps laughing maniacally.

In the Cargo bay, in front of the Company Kurtz slings the Double Rifle over his shoulder while he checks the magazine in his carbine.

One of the soldiers points at the revolvers in his holsters, “le Jesse James,” he says, eliciting an uproarious laugh from the others in his company.

Kurtz laughs with them for a moment before pulling out one of the revolvers, smiling, “Oui,” he replies.

He starts twisting the gun in his hand, spinning it delicately on his index finger, before tossing it in the air.

Kurtz snatches the pistol out of the air with his other hand, holding it right to the jester’s head, “vous savez ne rien de moi.”

Kurtz though, is a bit of a showoff, so he goes further to illustrate to the already shocked man standing in an equally shocked crowd of his now silent comrades in arms by popping open the cylinder, that the pistol had already been fully loaded.

At this point the Major marches into the Cargo bay, “Pret?”

“Oui.”

“N'importe quels problèmes ici?”

“Non,” Kurtz replies, “I was simply demonstrating some advanced techniques for handling arms.”

The Major shakes his head, “You wouldn’t have made it a week in this army.”

“Probably not, I didn’t last that long in the clergy. Don’t forget who Leopold sent when there were real problems here.”

He spins the pistol one last time before sliding it into his holster.

The Nordenfelts let loose as the Narcissus came in next to the cave, grapeshot keeps clearing the path, catching High Martians mid-glide.

Hans hustles back into the cargo bay, “Vergeet mij niet”

One of the soldiers who had been in Melas shouts out, “Wij kunnen Hans het Verschrikkelijke niet vergeten!”

The French speaking soldiers groan.

The cargo doors swing open.

Down the ramp two at a time, spreading out to independent positions. The Major is on top of his game, he points to the entrance of the cave, shouting “Nordenfelts!”

The machine guns let loose and roar into the first curve of the cave, ricochets go further in. The Major holds up his open hand and the firing stops, Kurtz frowns and charges over Martian bodies holding up his carbine.

Hans het Verschikkelijke waddles out of the cargo bay, Friday follows, turning on his miner’s lamp.

Into the cave, the grapeshot still hasn’t stopped pounding out of the new cannons, but at this point it is starting to be superfluous, the landing zone is secure.

Into the cave, Hans leads the way, Friday right behind him, lighting the way.

The Martian priests who occupy this particular cave are well armed, with several of their flintlock pistols, they have been preaching of this day for months now, and all of the sudden it appeared out of nowhere.

They fire at the intruders. Kurtz takes cover and pulls Friday aside, “Be careful, you’re carrying a lantern,” and the cave was now dimly lit, but the priests had extinguished many of the torches and Friday remained an obvious target.

The Major fires down the corridor, and Friday’s lantern confirms the hit, Hans charges forward, feeding the holdouts to his Nordenfelt.

He charges down the cave, Friday and the rest stay a yard or so behind him yelling, “Vertraag!”

The damn Flamigant is not listening, hypnotized by the flashes of his muzzle the machine gun lights his own path, and he wanders without ever looking up, only guided by the ricochets he hears.

A pistol rings out.

Hans shouts out in pain and the Nordenfelt goes silent.

The light exposes the culprit, if only for a moment before his muscles tense, the face muscles, strange muscles to tense up, they won’t help him duck out of the way faster, his eyes leap towards the cover, as if that were enough, but he only has a moment.

Because a moment is all Kurtz needs to exact his revenge, the carbine goes up, in place, he sees all of those muscles tensing and he wonders about it as the bullet flies down the tunnel.

The Major gets down by the body, lighting up his own lantern, “This is the end,” he shines the lantern around, “There isn’t any food here. Not even that much ammunition.”

Friday runs up, flashing his own lantern on it, consciously ignoring Hans for a moment while he writhes in pain, holding his leg.

“This is a temple, I want to keep these things,” he says, grabbing one of the books and several pamphlets, all of the relics off of the altar. Friday even starts rifling through the last body to see if there are any special relics on his person, his clothing is not particularly different from other Martians. The alien on has a water bottle that Friday leaves to escort the fellow across the Styx.

Kurtz finally arrives, kicking the body curiously, Friday glares at him and he shrugs.

“Top notch intel,” he says to the Major.

Friday finally gets around to Hans, “How are you, big guy?”

Hans grimaces, “Not very bloody good, I’ve been shot.”

The hypodermic needle, a miracle of science, Friday fishes it out of his belt, inserting it into a bottle of an opiate and getting out what Friday calculates will be a small dose for a man of Hans’ size. He injects it into the man’s arm, “we’ll get back to the ship and get you checked out.”

It does not take long for Hans to pass out, a combination of the poppies and the shock. Friday looks back to the other two, “I’m not carrying it all alone.”

As Friday looks over the wound, Kurtz comments, “At least we got the freak who did it.”

Friday laughs and says, “I think you’re mistaken Kurtz,” he pulls a large pair of tweezers and a long measure of cloth, he pulls out the bullet and wraps the wound,.

“What?”

“Well, we have to get him back to the medical bay before I said anything more, but at this juncture,” he holds up the bullet, “I’d say that this is not a pistol ball. What we have here,” and he puts the bullet into a separate cloth and wraps it up, “is a ricochet.”
 
"Well, do ya like it?"

"Da, da, just what I needed." Four tons of liftwood lay in front of the two gentlemen.

Seymor and Eingelmen were in a converted barn on an abandoned farm a few miles outside Dresden. Eingelmen was off looking at the inventor's drawings that were chaotically spread around the room - designs for just about everything. Seymor was sealing the deal.

"Now, you won't begrudge a man who, uh, would ask what you plan on doing with all this wood?"

"Not at all, not at all, kepten. I need it to finish prototype flyer - no you can't see. All top secret."

"A flyer? For who? The Germans?"

"They are the ones funding me, da. But, eh, if they can't get a steady liftwood supply soon, what would be point? My inventions need freedom, kepten, you know? Somebody with steady supply would pay handsomely, I think. Who knows, may be I will change the future. That is dream, yeah?"

Knowing that he wasn't going to see anything interesting, he bid his farewell and made his way out.
----​
Dresden Airfield

"Jeeves! I said, Jeeves! Rabbit, have ya seen Jeeves?" The Captain had made his way to the engine room, looking for his pilot. The room was full of notes, mostly crude drawings of a ship not too different to the Worthy Endeavor, with notes printed in Japanese script.

"No. I thought he was overseeing the tea you sold got to the airship safely."

"He was, yeah. But the, ah, neighbors said he came back and went into the station for food. None of the caf-ays in there said they saw him."

"Hmm. That is a problem."

It was then that the doctor was heard running down the hall. "Captain," he breathed, almost instantly regaining composure after one breath, "a ransom note."
----​

The conclusion coming soon...
 
They were travelling towards the territory of the Martian kraag. In the end, they had gone for the potential reward that getting information on the enemy would provide for them. Of course, they weren't going at it on a happy-go-lucky way. The crewmen were taking turns at the weapons, Ritter and the back-up pilot were also taking one-hour turns at the helm, and René was making sure that all of their medical supplies were on their place. Meanwhile, Gabriele and Miguel were working on Gabriele's idea.

"OK, I think that this time the capacitor is at the correct value," Gabriele said."

"You sure? It is the fifth time you have had to change it."

"I know, Miki, but this time I have double-checked it, and both capacitors are correct."

"Alright, then, turn it on."

Gabriele clicked the interruptors on, starting to drain energy from the engines. It was a minute quantity, so it didn't affect the propellors' output. Both the emitter and the receptor were at the same room, but once they managed to make them work like that, they would go and do it at greater distances and with obstacles in the middle.

"OK, let's try something easy," Gabriele said. Miguel changed his chair's position so that he didn't see what Gabriele was "writing" through the telegraph. He also tried to isolate himself so that he could only hear what his side of the telegraph said.

Behind him, Gabriele wrote on paper what he wanted to say, drew the dots and lines for each letter, and took his position at the telegraphist's chair. Miguel had already brought out his paper and pencil. Gabriele started to push the key down.

To Miguel's amazement, the small piece on the receptor that picked the sudden variations of potential on the current going across the circuit started to emit a sound, a single-tone short sound, that was followed by the same sound, only to remain silent for a few seconds, and then a sound longer than the ones before, but at the same tone, was heard. Miguel remembered he had to write that sound down, and so he took his pencil and started to draw the dots and dashes as they came, waiting between characters and words as per the Morse code. After a couple of minutes, the receptor stopped emitting sounds, and Miguel stood up.

"Hey, Lele, looks like it works. At least, that's what you seem to think."

"Yeah. It works."

Both friends shook hands in a formal manner, before jumping and hugging each other like brothers, finally enjoying the fruits of their first success.

Miguel's paper fell to the floor.

*** - *-- --- *-* -*- *** *-*-*-
I T W O R K S .
 
The company had gone back into the Narcissus with no small measure of complaint. Friction between them and the crew lent an uncomfortable atmosphere to the craft. But the Major had finally complied with Kurtz, after arguing for a full half hour that his men would rather march back to Melas.

The argument that had finally held the day was, “You wouldn’t dare go back empty handed.”

And so the men filed back into the cargo bay.

In the medical bay, a spent and bloody Nordenfelt round sat awkwardly between Friday and a patched up, bandaged, Hans.

“What makes you act like this?” Friday asks.

“What? The Martians?”

“Yeah.”

“Look, Friday,” Hans says the name with some contempt, “I’m a fighter, you put me in a bar and I brawl, you give me a gun and put some bastards in front of me and they get shot.”

Friday laughs, “That’s a way to be. If you like shooting yourself in the leg.”

Hans frowns.

Friday checks the bandages, “You see, I come from a perspective of helping people out, one at a time.”

“Martians aren’t people.”

“Well, people are people no matter what they look like, but I’m not going to argue about it.”

Hans keeps frowning, in fact it deepens.

“You’ve got me all strapped down here like some sort of damn Frankenstein and you’re just going to preach to me the whole time?”

“Look, Hans,” Friday says, “I just want to help you. This bloodlust,” he holds up the bullet, “It isn’t good for you.”

Hans pulls himself off the table and waddles out to the Observation deck, “I’ll take my chances.”

They are approaching another big cave, and at the helm the Major and Kurtz engage in a heated debate about what ‘the intelligence’ had to say about this particular cave and the overall reliability of ‘the intelligence.’

But Kurtz sees liftwood, he sees piles upon piles of francs dancing in his vision.

The Howitzer shakes the whole ship.

“I’m just going to land at this cave, alright?” is what Hugo asks. He gets two different responses, both very loud and so he continues his descent.

The grapeshot rings out, a billion different screams as it launches into another crowd of Martians.
 
“Look, I don’t know why you can’t get this through your thick skulls. They don’t have ten thousand pounds. I don’t think that ship you stole me from is worth ten thousand pounds. We’re small time merchants. Hell, we’ve only been to Mars. And that certainly wasn’t all that profitable.”

“Shut up, English pig-dog. Your fellows might not have the money but your family might – you look like you have lived well.” The bald German poked him in the stomach. “Will Papa bail out his son, hmm?”

Despite being tied to a chair and threatened with knives in a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, Ross scoffed. “I doubt that. ‘Oh well, you shouldn’t get into these messes you know, boy. You have made your mother quite inconsolable. I hope you’re happy.’ That’s probably what he’d say.”

“Well, someone will pay for you.” The interrogator – in command of the eight-man band – tossed his knife into the air and caught it by the handle. “Maybe sending back a body part would make it more urgent, hmm?” He trailed the knife’s blade across where the shoulder and arm connected. “Maybe this is too elegant for an Englishman. Perhaps a more…forceful approach is needed. Klaus – the lizard, if you will.”

Another German hauled over a man-sized crate on a trolley. “Almost tore Klaus’ arm off, when we caught him on Venus. Maybe we should let him do that to…”

The interrogator wasn’t allowed to finish, has his head had a new hole. As he collapsed forwards, Captain Seymor was visible in the doorframe, gun barrel smoking. He shot Klaus in the chest whilst the captors were still surprised. Nakamura and Eingelmen fanned in, the engineer heading up the stairs to the balcony overlooking the warehouse floor, the doctor heading behind some crates, the captain following him.

Rather regrettably for the Germans, they didn’t have their guns on them. This was lucky for Nakamura and Eingelmen, as they weren’t as good with their guns as the Captain was. But they managed to get a few lucky shots, including a railing kill from Nakamura.

Very soon the captors were dead, or at least close to death. “Thank you captain. Knew I could rely on you. Now if you could…”

“Naw, I just took as insult to ask that much money of me. Plus, you know. Didn’t want you dead an’ all. I’d need to find me a new pilot for starters.” Eingelmen had found a crowbar. “Let’s see what was about to tear your arm off.”

“Wait, wait, now I’m still tied up you fu-”

It was a lizardman. At least, it looked like the ones from pictures seen in papers and books. But it was heavily scarred, and thinner. It was cowering in the corner of the crate, probably frightened by the gunshots.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”
****​
Eingelmen returned hours later with a lot of fish, which the lizardman devoured eagerly. When he had finished gorging himself, he turned to face those he saw as his saviours. Seymor asked the first question “Do you speak English?”

When there was only a blank look on the reptile’s face, Ross considered a different approach. “Do you speak German?”

“Yes. Small.”

“What he say?”

“He only understands German captain. I’ll talk to him from here.” He switched back to German. “Do you know where you are?”

“Yes. I am on the world of Pale as A Dead Fish. It is cold. I want to go home.”

“How did you get here? To Earth?”

The lizardman told them of a story that he was out hunting alone, which he knew was foolish. The Germans captured him and forced him to kill Berliners for their money. When it started getting a little too hot in Berlin, they moved south, to Dresden. He said they hadn’t started anything here yet – Ross was a break in the pattern.

“I just want to go home.”
****​
They had managed to get the lizardman back into the crate to sleep – not before making it a bit more comfortable – and they brought it to the ship. There was an unofficial meeting in the bunkroom.

“Well folks, what do we do about him?”

“I say ve just let ze Polezei deal viz it.”

“What? No, we can’t do that; they’ll kill him. It’s not his fault. He was just used as a tool – a weapon.”

“Rabbit’s right, doctor. It wouldn’t be right. It’s not like it knew any better, poor creature. But we can’t just clandestinely sneak him back to Venus – what if we get caught by the authorities on the way out? ‘Oh no, officer, we can explain the lizardman.’”

“So, vhat do you propose ve do, hmm?”

“Simple. Go to the authorities, explain what happened and tell them we’re heading to Venus and we can drop him off if needs be.”

“But…”

“Naw, Rabbit, he’s right. Best thing for him and us.” The captain looked at his watch. “Tomorrow.”
 
--. --- -.. / ... .--. . . -.. / --. . -. . .-. .- .-.. / ... - . .-. .-.. .. -. --.


The Avalon shot across the British lines at top speed, the heliographs of the British fleet flashed at them as they passed. Dozens of large Martian cloud ships hovered at low altitude, gaining height and speed with every second Jack piloted high above the Martian line. The large enemy ships began to turn ponderously to pursue them while Jack continued increasing their altitude. From the raised rear gunner position Cornelia fired a few parting shots at the quickly receding cloud ships.


Into the highlands they flew the Martian terrain flashing past beneath them. The ground rose quickly and the ship matched the increasing elevation, they began to see the famous terraces of mature liftwood trees growing in neat rows. These trees must have been carefully cultivated and were nearly ripe for harvesting, they would be protected.


Flying lower now and at considerably lower speed everyone was searching the mountain sides for a likely spot. For what seemed like hours they stealthily roamed the terraces in pursuit of their goal. At long last Lord Carver’s voice rose above the sounds of the engines beneath them his long arm pointed to a spot in the distance where a grove of low liftwood trees grew on a landing hard beside a tall sheer cliff.


Gently Jack sat the Avalon down in a clearing near the cliff face, and they unhooked their restraints and began to clamber down to the Martian soil.


“Well lads this looks like a likely enough spot, lets get to it” William said, and Victor opened a hatch on the side of the Avalon and began hauling out tools. In pairs they began working with the long saws, all were soon covered in sweat and sawdust.


Cornelia and Jack saw through the last connecting fibers of the small trunk of the young liftwood tree, as the tethering wood is cut the trunk of the tree floats up and the tree comes to a rest horizontally about 6 feet off the ground. After cleaning the branches slightly they throw chains around the tree trunk and haul it to the Avalon, where they chain it to the other floating trunks. Within a few hours there are dozens of the young trees chained together near the cliff wall, the small size of the immature trees making the work rather easy.


“Oy, what’s that then?” Jack is pointing into the distance across the other peaks, where a dark spot is growing larger. “Doesn’t look good we may have to clear out now.”

“Alright we have enough to be going on with,” William said “Everyone get back to the ship.”


They secured the load of young trees to the hull of the aerial flyer, using a number of chains and hooks, and were soon clambering up the ladder. Everyone began to fasten their harnesses and Victor said “It’s defiantly a cloud ship coming they may spot us unless we get a move on.”


The Avalon rose slowly and disappeared around the sides of the cliff before climbing above the Martian clouds to head back to friendly territory with their precious cargo.
 
I haven't been able to really write anything over the last two weeks, but her is the basic for my Pilot Character. Deciptions and inventor to come. Story tonight.

Gustaf Johansen (Pilot/Linguist)
Christiania (Oslo), Norway-Sweden
Languages spoken: Norwegian (as such also Swedish and Danish), German, English, French, Dutch, Portuguese, Spanish, Western Ishtar and Kaiser Wilhelm Mountains Lizardman.
 
The crew had been busy. They had been checking many areas around the Japanese outpost for places to colonize. While the group had been out collecting samples the diplomats, thankfully not the ones brought in from Japan, spoke with the locals to continue building the feeling that the Japanese were to be considered friends and to try and build trade, especially for more liftwood. The Sendatsu’s crew also began trying to figure out where they could attach the liftwood to gain the best benefit from it while laying the foundation for more to be fitted.

Of course Lady Nanami was having the time of her life. She had never been so far from Earth before and wanted to sample everything she could. This of course drove Kanjiro nuts. He was in charge of keeping the party safe and with Nanami running off all around the survey areas and camps he had to devote an inordinate amount of time to her safety. Of course he was being handsomely paid for this effort so he took it in stride. It also helped that she was genuinely appreciative of his efforts even if her enthusiasm got the better of her constantly.

They traded what remained of their shipment from Earth, mostly weapons and ammo, in the effort to procure more liftwood and establish good relations with the Martians. Well they did avoid trading with the High Martians, but really who didn’t? The barbarians.

En route to their next survey site:

“Captain, ready to land” announced the XO.

“All right, I will set her down. When I do so follow procedures.”

“Aye Sir.”

The Daitan Sendatsu landed with expert precision in the designated clearing. The crew moved about completing the landing procedures while the Captain got up handed the bridge over to the XO and proceeded down to the cargo area to join with the expedition.

Along the way he was joined by Kosami. “Sir, we are ready to disembark as soon as they drop the hatch.”

“Good, by the way how is propeller three?”

“Hah, yeah well you can blame Lady Nanami for that one. She was using it to test her new designs and I guess one of her equations was off. Well it was only a minimal drop in performance until I got it sorted out, but I hope this idea of hers pans out. It will be damn useful.” Kosami shrugged. “Well I don’t know anyone smarter than her so I imagine it will only be a little longer before she gets her ideas just right.”

Captain Arata nodded his agreement. “I am glad the performance drop was fixed, but other than that what do you think of her concepts?”

“Between you, me, and the bulkhead sir?” Kosami waited for confirmation of this before continuing. “I think she’s got a great idea, and I think once these last couple of issues are corrected it will be a great benefit not just to the Daitan Sendatsu, but to the whole Empire of Japan. It will certainly give us an edge others do not have at the moment.”

“Glad to hear it seems to be heading to be a good thing Kosami.” Captain Arata stopped outside the cargo bay where they were going to meet the rest of the expedition. “This site seems to be the most promising from the initial survey, I want to make sure everything goes perfect. We all know that the Emperor wants to expand settlements here on Mars and this location is near established Japanese areas and appears to also be a good spot to farm liftwood. But I have heard of raiders in this area and we cannot let out guard down. Pass word to your brother I will speak to Nanami.” Kosami nodded and then the pair went into the cargo bay.

The expedition quickly set out and found an appropriate camp site to stay for the night. The watch would be split between Arata, Kosami, and Kanjiro as usual. This time was unusual in that Captain Arata and Lady Nanami decided to share a tent this time. Well it had become very public they were engaged after the last incident with the annoying passengers for the trip to Mars. Kanjiro enjoyed being on watch since he got time to sit and contemplate his new experiences in peace. Heh, gods was he glad the diplomat was out of their hair for good. I mean the way he tried to manhandle Lady Nanami and get her to commit to an engagement with him. Most of the crew was pretty sure about the engagement, but it had been kept quiet because Captain Arata didn’t want to cause a fuss. Of course when a low aristocrat tries to steal your fiancé right in front of you, Kanjiro chuckled remembering the sound of Captain Arata’s katana leaving its sheath and being pointed in the face of that diplomat. How fast the diplomat and his cronies backed off from engaging in the challenge. Of course how loudly Lady Nanami laughed at the little climber after that helped to cool his attempts as well.

That was also the first time Kanjiro had seen Captain Arata’s family blade. It was vey well made and likely very old. He decided to ask about it in the morning.

Motion caught his well trained eye in the distance. It was just a small break in the light coming through the trees on the edge of the clearing they had encamped in. Kanjiro quietly moved to wake his twin while keeping his eyes peeled on the treeline. Kosami awoke and saw the look Kanjiro was giving him along with the carbine ready for action in his arms and took the hint. He went to wake Captain Arata as soon as he had grabbed his shotgun.

Right as Kosami woke Captain Arata and Lady Nanami he heard the familiar sound of his twin’s carbine go off. The men quickly ran out to join Kanjiro while Nanami sat with a revolver from Captain Arata in the tent.

Several more shots rang out but so far none in response to Kanjiro had been heard. By the time the pair had joined him Kanjiro simply pointed out to the field at four High Martians writing in pain. Apparently these were not from the more advanced among them as they appeared not to have any firearms. There was a faint sound in the air and they all looked up to see two more High Martians dropping from the sky at them. Had they waited even a second longer they would have been too late. Kosami raised and fired his shotgun easily shredding one of the two, but the other dropped on Captain Arata right as he had finished drawing the katana. The battle was as fierce as it was quick. After maybe a pair of exchanges the High Martian’s head flew off from his neck in an arc of gore. They looked to Captain Arata who simply stood there with a wound to his right arm.

They headed back and a very frantic Lady Nanami cleaned and bandaged the wound while trying to regain her composure. No one had ever seen her like this, though none of them felt she was wrong either. Luckily the wound was shallow and easily cared for. They stood waiting for orders from Captain Arata.

“Let’s go clean it up, can’t be leaving those bodies near the camp. Scavengers are plentiful on Mars from what I hear.” They went out and moved all six bodies well into the trees before finally returning to the camp and beginning the collection of samples early to complete the task quickly and return.
 
Gustaf Johansen (Career: Pilot, Linguist)
Christiania (Oslo), Norway-Sweden
Languages spoken:
Spoiler :
Norwegian (as such also Swedish and Danish), German, English, French, Dutch, Portuguese, Spanish, Russian, Italian, Western Ishtar and Kaiser Wilhelm Mountains Lizardman. Rougher in several other languages.

Inventory: Navigation Instruments, Field glasses, Telescope, Surveying equipment, Machete, Knife, Travel Bag, swamp shoes, Blanket, Lantern, Revolver, Lever Action Rifle, Sword, Heavy Duty Clother, Rain Clothes, Axe, Parkhurst-Gardner Machine Gun.
Money: £ 29
Physical Description: 178cm (5 ft 10 Inches), 81 kg (180 lb). Reddish blond hair and Van Dyke beard. Blue eyes. Reasonably muscular build.

History:
Spoiler :
Born in Christiania, Norway in 1853, Gustaf was originally expected to enter the family shipping company, which worked as a dealer for the East India Company and Hudson’s Bay Company in Scandinavia. His gift for languages, however, and changes in the company resulted in Gustaf instead working as a translator and scribe in Christiania, rather than overseas. After several friends and colleagues, lead by the now infamous Othar Tryggvassen, were arrested on suspicions of terrorism and revolution (though the Great Wall of Norway plan was quickly hushed-up, and is not spoke of with foreign company) he fled the country, eventually moving to Germany where he received pilot training, eventually moving to Venus as a semi-contractor. Though he knows that he was never in danger of arrest and can safely resturn to Norway-Sweden, he has decided to stay on Venus, being of the opinion that the success of Othars’ schemes proved everyone in Norway in insane. He also has a fear of the South Pacific and octopus, due to recurring dreams he never really remembers.

Spoiler :
Herja
Spoiler :
Herja is Gustafs’ favourite gun, a twin-barrelled water-cooled Parkhurst-style-Gardner Machine gun, which he received from an odd business man, writer and story teller as payment for some translations, the man claiming her couln’t “keep her, ‘cause she makes Bianca jealous”. The man’s accent has resulted in Gustaf thinking of Americans the same way as his countrymen.


Epona
Spoiler :
A domestic herbivores dinosaur about the size of sheep, received by Gustaf from natives not long after his arrival on Venus, Epona serves as his beloved pack-animal, and the only being her trusts with Herja out of his sight. Epona now posses a stable on the Skybreaker, much to Angela’s annoyance.


Niddy
Spoiler :
Gustaf’s riding beast, Niddy is not currently traveling with the Skybreaker. Angela refused to carry a large, flesh eating animal of the newly christened Dromaeosauridae family. Especially one named “Malice Striker”.
 
Heart of Venus
Spoiler :
Karl jammed his heels into the mud, halting his motion and brining his shotgun to his face, working the lever to fire three slugs into the heads of the charging lizardmen. Everything had gone bad. This should have been the last supply mission for government, and instead they’d found an ambush. Karl has seen a Hunter take a spear through the throat, had watched a Colonial die screaming from the foul poisons on the arrows that had hit him, and two men dragged screaming into the mirk. And now he was running through the murky fog, following the sound of machinegun fire.

As Karl reloaded his gun, he saw movement ahead, followed by a spear flying out of the fog at him.
How many damn lizards are here? He though, and began firing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gustafs hands worked fervently, his right hand spinning Herja’s firing crank, his left the traverse; the only good thing about this situation was that he didn’t also need to use the elevation.

He was sheltered in some sort of corral, which he believed had held hog-like reptiles until recently. Catharine claimed that the lizards attacking them we not the locals, so presumably they had taken the beasts when they... did whatever they had done the real inhabitants. It was said that the Lowlands often practiced cannibalism, and there were rumours of cults that practiced blood sacrifice. In any case, with him were eight beings: three Colonials soldiers in fighting shape (Obiana, Tejia and “Wilhelm”, who Gustaf was convinced was actually Wilhelmina); a wounded Colonial propped up to shoot; a badly injured Hunter who was probably dying, Gustaf couldn’t tell; Catharine, a Lizardwoman clerk who was helping by loading striper-clips for Herja and the Colonials guns; Jorgen, a human clerk who was hiding under some blankets whimpering; and of course Epona, who was behaving excellently for the given conditions.

Seeing a pause in the approaching lizards, Gustaf grabbed one of the long clips for Herja and scrapped of enough rounds to fill each feed chute, then glanced over his shoulder and started when a saw a lizard sneaking around a hut.

“There! By the hut!” he shouted moments before a shot from Wilhelm took it in the head. “Stupid! Pay attention!” he shouted, before stopping himself-the lizard had been behind a sort of wall, so there was no way Wilhelm could have spotted the enemy before she had. He apologized, and said as much.

Spotting movent down the road, Gustaf spun Herja’s crank and began firing again.
How many of them are there? He thought.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Karl stoped behind the lee of a hut, a he could clearly hear that there was a Gardner gun down it, and he didn’t feel like getting shot. At least, not at the moment, but if things got much worse... hearing a pause in the fire, shouting around the corner.
“It’s Karl, don’t shoot!”

Hearning the reply, he started down the street, getting close enough that he could recognize Gustaf and three Colonials sheltering in a corral of sorts. Of course, that was right when a gang of lizards charged out at him. He quickly fired all of the bullets in the shotguns magazine, than drew his sword. A few moments later, him and the allies in the corral had finished the enemy. He was just about to continue on when he heard a noise from a nearby hut, which he started towards.

“Hey, Karl, what are you doing! Get over here!” Gustaf shouted, but Karl ignored him. The noise had sounded human.

Upon reaching the door, he pushed the curtain aside and let his eyes adjust to the gloom, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The man was Charles Marlow, an American clerk that had signed on with the Colonial government to value trade goods in the field, and had stayed in the village the last time there had been a supply run. He was clearly badly injured; the lizards that had done this had been busy, even while the fighting had been going on. No, injured wasn’t correct: Karl recognized some of the instruments strewn about the hut, or could guess there purpose; he’d seen similar tools, in France, in Colorada, New Mexico and Montana, had even used such tools... he looked at what was left of Marlow, sighed, then reached into his pack to give aid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Outside, Gustaf was getting frantic.

“What is he doing! There could still be lizards around (present company excluded, of course), why hasn’t he come out yet-argh!” he ranted, mostly at Catherine, but mostly at the world in. “I mean, what, it can’t wait? It just stupid to-KARL! Thank god! What were you doing?” he changed to as Karl aeared and started walking down towards them.

“Angela’s Catholic, correct?” Karl asked as he drew closer, a sombre expression on his face.

Gustaf, thrown off guard, took amoment to respond. “Yes, why?”

“I found Charles Marlow, remember him?” Karl said, still with that sombre, sad look “Don’t both, he’s dead.” Karl added seeing Catherine pulling out a medical kit.

“Not for him, for you. You’re bleeding.” Catherine said, pointing at Karl’s right hand, which Gustaf now saw had red human blood on it.

“Oh, no that’s not mine. Come on, we should get back to the ship, I haven’t heard anything for a few minutes, so we should be safe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Upon arriving at the Skybreaker, the wounded men were immediately directed to Johanns’ surgery, but Gustaf was distracted when he saw Angela struggling with the sleeve on her mechanical arm, which was tor around the hand. Seeing his look, she simply stated “I need a bigger gun” before plunging her arm into a basin of water. Gustaf deliberately walked away, refusing to this about what Angela was washing off, which had certainly looked like lizard blood and brains. He didn’t want to know. At least, not without a few drinks first.
 
War of the Roses

Spoiler :
Angela was quite pleased; they had found a dealer who would take the totems they had gotten from the natives back to earth, while still giving them 51% of the earnings, they had found replacements for the three crew killed at Toko-Jeuga, the Colonial government was giving them hazard-pay for what happened, and she had a nice cup of Hot Chocolate, all very pleasant. Well, accept for one think.

“So, have you thought about it?” a voice abruptly asked from behind her.

“Gyaaiihh!” Angela started, almost spilling her drink, then whirled around. “No, Maria, I haven’t thought about, I haven’t had time with you bothering me about! Besides, the answer was no, is no, and will be no!”

“Why not!? The government if promising a lot of money, and it hinders the Russians! Come on, you hate Russians!”

“No, I loathe Russians.” Angela replied coldly.

“What’s the difference. The point is-”

“The difference,” Angela said, cutting Maria off, then continued towards the common room, “Is that when you loath something, your far more likely to avoid something then if you hate it. In my case, my self-preservation is stronger than my desire to attack a well fortified Russian compound.”

“I suppose we wouldn’t have to attack it,” Gustaf said from a couch as the two women entered the common-room, “We could try sneaking in.”

“Right, three options t enter, Angela said sharply, “One: sneak in-unless you have magic Indian powers, or one of the men have been getting Hashāshīn, training, or is secretly one of those Celestial ninjas, I don’t think we’re going to be sneaking in.”

“Ninjas are Japanese, not Chinese.” Maria said after a moment of silence in an off-put tone, a disdainful look on her face.

“ ...um...sorry.” Angela, somewhat uncomfortable with Maria’s look. “Anyways, two: bluff our way in. Gustaf here speaks Russian-“

“To , chto ya delayu, miss.”

“-and Karl and the Doctor speak a slight amount of Russian, but that’s only going to fool that guards if their addled or daft. Of course, these are “Russia’s finest” so that’s a good possibility, but anyways, that leaves three: fight our way in, and that is NOT going to happen!”

“Oh, we could probably do it, and if we failed, we run away!” Maria chirped.

“Do you know what Russians do to their prisoners? No? Well that’s because no-one ever escapes alive to tell you!”

“I don’t know, apparently one of the Tsar Alexander III would-be assassins escaped, and stole and either flyer.” Gustaf said. “Of course, she does seemed to have disappeared without a trace...”

“And what is to say the Ohkrana didn’t track her down, hmm? And what about our lead o those ruins?”

“While it is a promising lead, we do not have enough information to find them right now,” Johann said “and we need to wait for our contacts to narrow down the search area.”

“Alright, but I’m in charge here. We will not be picking any fights with the Russians!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“OHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGOOODDDDDD!!!!” chanted, feet pounding down the path, pausing briefly to fire three shot from her revolver at the shouting figures that had rounded the rocks behind her, then resumed running. The sack full of live orchids on her back wasn’t helping; it weighed a lot. “WhydidIletMariatalkmeintothis!?”

“<STOP! OR YOU SHOOTED!>” a voice shouted in very bad English, which was rather confusing, but good: the Russians seemed to alternate between thinking they were English (possibly American) or Italian, not that Angela could figure out why. Or rather she could, and that probably had to do with the fact that mixed among orchids had been a large amount of Papaver somniferum, Erythroxylum coca, and cannabis plants, all of which seemed rather... used.

What had finally persuaded Angela to try to either steal or destroy the Russian Cytherian orchids was the discovery that the flowers were not being grown in a well defended fortress, rather at a small, out of the way botanical station that served as the shipping-point for plantations that grew such crops as coffee, sugar, and cocoa, as well as the sampled “pharmaceuticals”.

“<Yeah, like that is going to happen.>” Angela murmured in English, just to be on the safe side. The Russina authorities would know who was responsible soon enough, but if some blame could be transferred, then things might be safer for them in the future. Especially if the Russians thought the raid was by German-hired-Americans. “<Just try to shoot straight, Russhy!>” she shouted, to be safe.

She quickly lost the Russians in the rocks, but there were more around, she could hear them shouting, and gun fire. She could also here the Skybreaker’s machineguns and cannon, so she knew she was on the right track. She ran down into a pass between large rocks, and was almost to the end when a man stepped put in front of her.

“<Dammit!>” she shouted, still in English, and raised her gun to fire... only to hear the clicking snap of a empty cylinder. “<Oh damn.>”

“<SHTOUP, Eangleski-ki-keee,>” the obviously highly drugged Russian slurred waving his arms vaguely. At that moment, a low, greenish-grey blur slammed into the man’s lower stomach and groin, flipping him over itself, then flailing at the downed man with its large beak and nose-horn. Epona’s species may have lacked the brow horns of the larger triceratops, but she still had a hard skull.

“Oh, thank god, Epona! I take back all the complains I’ve made about you!” Angela cried, giving the small dinosaur a brief hug. “Come-on, not far now!”

It wasn’t. About a hundred metres latter, Angela and Epona ran into the clearing where Skybreaker had set down, Gustaf on the loading ramp with his lever-action rifle and Karl with Angela’s prototype repeater (Angela felt a flash of pride that it was working). Angela ran straight of the ramp, then threw herself to the floor on the side, panting as she struggled to get her pack off so Johann and his aides could get the orchids into a more suitable environment, while the Skybreaker lifted off.

“Look...on...the...Brightside.” Maria panted from across the loading bay, similarly propped against the wall. “We got lotsa flowers.” That much was true, all 5 expedition members, plus Epona, had been laden with orchid bags (fortunately, Johann had gotten to the ship before the fighting had started). Angela was about to snark at Maria when an explosion lit the sky behind them, prompting both women to climb to their feet and look out the still-open loading doors. “And see, remaining conservatory and orchids destroyed! Russians loose Cytherian Orchids as soon as they get them!”

“With all the “medicinal” plants in there,” Gustav remarked, “the Russians and any Lizards downwind are going to be staggering all o-” and was interrupted as a massive explosion tore from the building, thowing debris across a wide area. After a stunned moment, Gustav nudged Karl and held out a hand. “Told you that was he fuel storage. Five Marks please.”

As Karl fished the money from his pocket, Angela thought for a moment, then sighing, tapped Gustav on the shoulder. “Better get up to the cockpit and bring us around to look for survivors. We might get bonus for them.”
 
Update Two
Events of Summer and Fall 1889


Atlas of the Worlds

The crew of the Daitan Sendatsu has successfully invented a lighter ether propeller.
The crew of the Skybreaker has successfully invented a gas-operated automatic-repeating rifle.

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ARMS RACE RESULTS IN SKIRMISHES

In Europe, the arms race for ether flyers and aerial gunboats has taken a dangerous turn. Sky skirmishes between France and Germany have taken place, though the fleets involved are not government-aligned. Rather they are private fleets or even pirates. As aerial trade has grown over the years, pirates have new prey, and it is suspected that many governments are hiring pirates to cause mayhem in their enemy's borders, without declaring war. The most recent disaster was a French cargo flyer captured, by what France is saying were mercenaries hired by Germany. Germany has denied these claims, but France has begun to mobilize more of their aero fleet to combat the surge of piracy above European skies.

HENRY SYNSWORTH, AMERICAN SCIENTIST, "MAPS THE BRAIN"

Henry Synsworth is a very, very strange man who resides in Washington, D.C. as a scientist employed by the government. He claims to have recently "mapped the brain", that is to say, he is claiming he has invented ways to implement mind control. Rather, he claims that mind control is "definitely possible", but he has denied claims that he has succeeded in perfecting it or has performed it himself. He has unveiled a strange device to the United States government, one that he believes is the future of mind control. It is a coiled "ray gun" 35 feet in length. When asked if he would patent and sell, Doctor Synsworth simply replied that the patent belongs to America, and that it will never be sold.

STRANGE CRAFT SEEN IN THE SKIES

A massive amount of unidentified flying objects have been spotted in several parts of the world, including above the United States, Japan, Russia, and Europe. The strange craft have been sighted and photographed by aero fleets around the world. They appear more advanced than aerial gunboats currently found on Earth, yet their actions have thus far been benign. Attempting contact with them or getting too close to them simply reveals the amazing speed of the craft, which dart away as if carried by hundreds of steam-powered propellers. Some authorities around the world are claiming that these craft are from a more advanced civilization, or perhaps remnants of Vulcan society. Such preposterous claims have been debunked by archeologists and other scientists working in the asteroid belt, most notably those from the French Empire.

H.M.S. HARBINGER II FULLY OPERATIONAL

The British Empire has formally announced the fully operational Harbinger II, a massive ether orbital heliograph station which will soon serve "other purposes" beyond orbital heliography. Advances in new technologies from outstanding inventors around the world will soon create a communication revolution, making it easier for the planets to interact with one another.

BERLIN LIZARDMAN MURDERS END ABRUPTLY

The murders in Berlin which were thought to have been caused by a renegade lizardman have abruptly ended, as quickly as they began. The creature is thought to have killed more than one hundred victims. The chief of police in Berlin has resigned his post and has fled Germany, under pursuit by German authorities. He has come forward to American newspapers claiming that the lizardman was captured on Venus against its will and set upon the population of Berlin. The creature, he claims, was starved and tortured. He has begun to speak out against the German Empire and its treatment of lizardmen. He claims that the German Empire was using this lizardman to evoke a response from the German people, thus garnering more public support in the annexing of lizardlands on Venus. This claim has been refuted by the German government, though American authorities have since given the former investigator asylum in New York City, much to the outrage of the Germans. It is rumored that he is soon to be en route to Venus in an independent ether flyer.

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BRITISH AND FADATHIAN TROOPS OVERPOWER OENOTRIAN TROOPS

Northeast of Oenotria, a combined force of British and Fadathian troops overpowered the Oenotrian defenses in a savage battle. Newly implemented British weaponry, including new designs of heavy steam-powered machineguns, proved successful in annihilating the bulk of the Oenotrian defense force. The Oenotrian troops have since retreated and have begun to dig in within the city walls of Oenotria itself. Oenotria's allies have all but surrendered. Fadath successfully conquered Astrapsk and extended its influence to the city-state of Crocea. Meanwhile, British forces brutally suppressed small Martian uprisings in Moeris Lacus. The Flood Season (Fall on Earth) proved beneficial for British forces, supplying them with enough water to power through Oenotrian lines. In addition, the launching of the new Harbinger ether station has proven invaluable to British supply routes.

FADATH ACQUIRES AN ETHER FLYER

The city-state of Fadath has acquired what no other Martian power has been able to: a fully functional ether flyer. A mysterious ether flyer was found crashed outside of city limits. Fadathian scientists retrieved it and were able to re-construct it. They have successfully crafted their own version of the ether flyer, which Princess Anraabu has called the crowning achievement for Martians in this generation. Indeed, the ether flyer has garnered much pride throughout Fadath, and has discredited the disgruntled Mrohzanji priests. Princess Anraabu has personally selected a crew to pilot the ether flyer, called the Firerock. British authorities, at first dismayed that an alien power had obtained ether flyer capabilities, used the Fadathian discovery to strengthen the British-Fadathian alliance. Britain has thus offered personnel to help train the crew of the Firerock, if necessary. Princess Anraabu has accepted logistical support, but has claimed that Martian blood contains secrets to advanced technology far beyond Earth, and that it is only natural they teach themselves how to fly through the ether. The ether flyer has also extended Fadath's influence to small Martian settlements beyond the city-state. To many Martians, this represents a great leap forward.

HATTABRANX CONTINUES TO BE SUCCESSFUL

Despite massive British gains over Oenotria, the High Martians continue to pester British forces around the Astusapes Highlands. Several bands of Martian cloud pirates have allied themselves with Hattabranx in exchange for weaponry taken from dead British soldiers. This area of the war has caused great mischief for the British Empire.

MROHZANJI PRIESTS DECLARE PRINCESS ANRAABU UNFIT TO RULE

As suspected, the cunning priests of the Mrohzanji in the city-state of Fadath have declared their Catholic princess unfit to rule. Most citizens have sided with the princess, however, because of her remarkable success in the Oenotrian War and the great profit it has provided Fadath because of British money and supplies. The priests have thus been mostly isolated, and many have gone into hiding.

CULT OF THE WORM UPRISINGS MYSTERIOUSLY END

Throughout Mars, uprisings caused by the Cult of the Worm have mysteriously ended. Just as mysterious, many of the perpetrators are now missing and cannot be found by British or Belgian forces. Cult of the Worm temples are beginning to empty out completely. Almost no one can be found within them at this time, and it is suspected some sort of mass migration has occurred. Scouts from Britain and Belgium have begun to search Mars, but such endeavors have proven deadly as outside of the city-states, Mars can be quite an inhospitable place.

EMPEROR MEIJI ORDERS MORE COLONISTS TO MARS

The emperor of Japan has ordered more than a thousand new colonists to Japan. These colonists have been selected from a variety of backgrounds and most of them are acclaimed scientists. Some soldiers are also accompanying them. It is the emperor's plan to expand the colony of Euxinus Lacus and eventually dig canals from the northern ice caps and settle the footsteps of what are now called the Sapporo Mountains. Japan has formally announced that it has discovered, and claimed, new groves of liftwood. It has apparently been discovered that liftwood can even grow in extremely cold temperatures, near the Martian ice caps (at least near the ones that Japan has now claimed).

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RUSSIA FORMALLY ISSUES A COMPLAINT TO THE U.S. GOVERNMENT

Russian authorities have accused American secret agents of sneaking into a facility on Venus and stealing Cytherian orchids and other "herbs". Noting America's lack of involvement on Venus, American authorities are calling the accusations "ridiculous" and have decried the paranoia present in Russia's governing body. The Russian aero fleet has officially remarked that any American vessel seen on Venus will immediately be apprehended, questioned, and possibly held without release. Such a policy has outraged American politicians, who have begun to speak out against Russian aggression and the encroachment of free trade on the planet of Venus.

LIZARDFOLK TRIBES ON THE VICTORIA PLATEAU REBEL

Many Lizardfolk tribes have organized themselves and have begun to attack British and German settlements on the Victoria Plateau and around the Wilhelm Mountains. This has proven to be extremely troublesome for colonists there, who were just getting used to relatively peaceful lives on the steamy planet. Lizardfolk allies have come to the aid of the Europeans, but the new resistance is remarkably organized and many of the Lizardfolk tribes have obtained European arms. Both the British and German Empire have ordered troops to Venus and Germany has also ordered several ether zeppelins to begin bombardment of the jungles around the Wilhelm Mountains. An investigation into how these Lizardfolk outside the colonies obtained European weaponry is underway by both the British and the Germans.


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THE WORTHY ENDEAVOR

The crew of the Worthy Endeavor spent a few months on Earth. They were responsible for the capture and persecution of the lizardman accused of murdering more than a hundred Berliners. Their discovery of the lizardman came at a time of great danger for one of the crew members, yet in the end the crew was safe. After much deliberation, they turned the lizardman over to authorities and received a whopping £1,000. The money is good for the Worthy Endeavor, yet the moral implications are quite severe. Some Berliners, including the now-exiled chief of police, believe that the lizardman meant no harm. However, this is an anti-colonial fringe element of German society, one which has developed to desire equality for the beings of other planets. Nonetheless, the turned over lizardman and his subsequent execution weigh heavy on the crew of the Worthy Endeavor. For this reason, they might want to find the chief of police (a man named Hans Amsel) and perhaps even accompany him to Venus. Or, they could turn their ship from the situation, not caring about the outcome of the lizardfolk around the Wilhelm Mountains, and enjoying the money they have just received.

Spoiler Results :
Results:
+ £1,000 awarded.
+ Strained relations with the lizardfolk community.


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THE NARCISSUS

Well now, the crew of the Narcissus got into a fair bit of trouble the last two seasons. The ship is now well-known to Martians as something to be afraid of, and when many cloud pirates find that they have come upon the Narcissus, they end up fleeing. Even though the ship has instilled fear into the natives and the Cult of the Worm, there is such hatred for Kurtz and his crew that eventually these same elements will stop at nothing to see the Narcissus burning as it crashes down to the surface of the red planet. Revenge must wait for them, though, as Kurtz and his crew have successfully helped to suppress rebellion throughout the Belgian Coprates. Most temples of the Cult of the Worm have become abandoned, and the reason for this is most definitely the massacre that the Narcissus committed within and around a temple. In addition to aiding the suppression of rebels, the ship has successfully shuttled many tons of food to Belgian troops fighting fierce battles. The pay was hefty. The Belgian government has provided Kurtz and his crew with £300 for the food, and another £200 for ammunition. In addition to this, the Narcissus is currently hauling 8 tons of religious artifacts from one of the temples of the Cult of the Worm. To the religious fanatics, this is a severe offense, and many insane fanatics have attempted to attack the Narcissus and have failed miserably. It is unknown how much money these artifacts will fetch on Earth, but Kurtz hopes it will be a hefty sum. The Narcissus ended the season at a High Martian cave somewhere in the Coprates (OOC: Location is up to SKILORD). However, instead of encountering resistance from the kraag, the clan leader instead wished to speak to Kurtz and negotiate for European weaponry or perhaps European trinkets. The clan leader, named Korplok, offered logistical support in the highlands surrounding the Coprates in return for such an allegiance.

Spoiler Results :
Results:
+ £500 awarded.
+ 8 tons of religious artifacts added to cargo.

+ Continued strained relations with Martians of all kinds.


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THE BLUE ARGO

The crew of the Blue Argo is making great progress on their invention of the first radio. While performing their scientific tests, the Blue Argo sought out kraags to trade with. There were some successes in the highlands of Meroe near the German presence on Mars. Some kraags there have integrated with Hill Martians to create rather dynamic societies focused on trade and not as murderous as other High Martians. This discovery by the Blue Argo has been most beneficial, providing the vessel with an opportunity to make more money. The crew of the Blue Argo has discovered that these kraags are mostly interested in German products. Specifically, they have become enamored with German beer. Kegs of the beer have been sold for hefty sums, but many of the kraag clan leaders are desiring richer, more tasteful beer. Much of the beer traded with them has been warm. One kraag remarked to the crew of the Blue Argo, "The Germans give us warm beer, thinking we will settle for that. But lately we desire exactly what they drink in the German colony." Many kraag leaders within Meroe are quite intelligent and are prudent merchants. The Blue Argo was at first frightened of the High Martians they witnessed, but it soon became apparent that they were not violent or desiring bloodshed. Rather, they were desiring goods from Germany. Not only beer, but other crafts and even artwork by German artists. There was a humorous story told to the crew of the Blue Argo in which some of the kraag leaders had come together to view art, and had specifically enjoyed German paintings and prints, but had thought their French counterparts to be "boring, repetitive, and lacking passion".

Spoiler Results :
Results:
+ Radio will be finished by Fall 1890, if the necessary funds and supplies are acquired.
+ Healthy relations with the High Martians in Meroe.


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THE HMS PINAFORE

The crew of the HMS Pinafore is currently taking samples of liftwood saplings to synthesize a liftwood essential oil. Such an oil would have unique properties. The oil has proven to be extremely toxic and fatal thus far, as two (minor) members of the Pinafore crew became seriously ill and subsequently died from their exposure. Therefore, the pure liftwood oil is now being treated under extremely safe conditions. It cannot be put on the skin or and must be applied to surfaces with proper ventilation. In fact, it is better for humans to cover their respiratory system completely while dealing with the oil. As such, the crew of the Pinafore has developed special gas-mask like devices and gloves to be used while dealing with the oil. Even though the oil cannot be put on humans or on the clothing humans wear, it has successfully levitated other structures, such as steel plates (if the oil is concentrated enough). This alone will make the oil valuable, yet massive quantities of the oil are required to achieve this and they must be taken from young liftwood plants, making it more difficult to find sources without exhausting Martian groves. The applications of this oil, and the potential deadly nature of highly concentrated liftwood, should create interesting innovations. The oil is expected to be completely developed and patented by the summer of 1890. While searching for young liftwood plants in the Martian highlands, specifically in the Shistomik Mountains northeast of Fadath, the Pinafore came into contact with many hostile High Martian kraag warriors. In addition, these kraags have begun to recognize the Pinafore as a murderer of liftwood young, and therefore it has become more and more dangerous for the ship to extract the liftwood saplings it requires to finish research. Nonetheless, there are other highlands of Mars to explore and other kraags that do not know of the Pinafore.

Spoiler Results :
Results:
+ Liftwood Oil will be finished by Summer 1890 if the necessary funds and supplies are acquired.
+ Nine minor crew members have died.


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THE DAITAN SENDATSU

Fushima Arata and the crew of the Daitan Sendatsu continue to obtain massive amounts of prestige and funding from the Japanese government for their valiant duties in finding lands for the Japanese to research and colonize. The most recent gift has been a stipend of £500. In addition, Arata's crew is becoming increasingly loyal to him, respecting his great honor and his sense of duty and friendship. This loyalty came in handy in recent encounters with High Martians. It all happened on the borders of the mountains directly north-northeast of Euxinus Lacus, near the glacial poles. It was an extremely cold evening, yet the crew had encamped near the mountains searching out new lands for the Empire of Japan. It was then that the High Martians came, attacking swiftly. As quickly as they came, they were defeated, and the crew's loyalty to Arata continued to grow from there. The attack proved to be a blessing in disguise. The Daitan Sendatsu made a subsequent survey of the mountains north of Euxinus Lacus, and christened them the Sapporo Mountains. The survey revealed massive amounts of kraags and High Martians well-adapted to the cold temperatures. The kraags could easily be seen from the high sky from their fires lit below, like fireflies in the tall peaks. The discovery of High Martians and kraags indicates the presence of liftwood. Sure enough, the survey mission revealed several groves of liftwood. As a result, the Japanese Empire has laid claim to the area directly surrounding the mountains, stretching from Euxinus Lacus. The Daitan Sendatsu has also achieved its fully required amount of liftwood. It can be either be stored in cargo and sold (worth 15 tons total) or attached to the vessel to provide it with an alternative means of lifting. In addition to these remarkable discoveries, the Daitan Sendatsu crew has also made innovations in ether propeller, creating a smaller, more efficient version that weighs less (instead of weighing 1 ton, its weight is now inconsequential (0 tons) for the Daitan Sendatsu. The emperor has asked the vessel to retrieve more liftwood and bring it back to Japan, or perhaps bring it back to Euxinus Lacus where cargo vessels can take it back to Japan (thus freeing up the Daitan Sendatsu's time to continue exploring areas for Japanese colonization). The emperor wishes to establish small settlements around the Sapporo Mountains, though would first like innovations in technology to support life there and perhaps dig canals from the ice caps. In addition, the kraags of High Martians within the mountain range is an extreme concern. They are fierce because of their resilience and adaptation to the cold.

Spoiler Results :
Results:
+ Lighter Ether Propeller completed. Ether propeller weighs 0 tons.
+ £500 given from the Japanese Empire.
+ Complete supply of liftwood necessary for alternate lifting acquired (currently filling all 15 tons of cargo until fitted).


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THE SKYBREAKER

On Venus, the crew of the Skybreaker got into a bit of trouble. After raiding a Russian science outpost near the Aphrodite Mountains, the Skybreaker obtained 6 tons of Cytherian orchids. This was an amazing find for the Skybreaker. These can fetch £200 per ton, making a total profit of £1,200 (if sold to the right buyer, which is usually going to be on Earth). Ever since their escape from the Russian science outpost, they have avoided Russian territory and will somehow have to smuggle the orchids back into Earth to make the full profit (getting past British inspection crews based out of the HMS Harbinger II). The Russians have been searching for the Skybreaker, but they have no idea what they are looking for, so the search has not been successful. While in the science outpost, the crew of the Skybreaker made a startling discovery, one that they might wish to inform German authorities of. Within the science outpost, plants were being dissected and "strange men" were seen covered in fluid inside of large glass tubes. The men seemed altered in a way that the crew cannot fully describe. There were Cytherian orchids, yes, but there were also carcasses of killed man-eating plants (which have been called Vineteeth). There were strange tubes and needles and odd experimental equipment lying around the science outpost. The crew of the Skybreaker has no doubt that something strange was going on. In addition to these discoveries, the crew of the Skybreaker has also successfully invented and patented a gas-operated automatic-repeating rifle.

Spoiler Results :
Results:
+ Gas-operated automatic-repeating rifle invention completed.
+ 6 tons of Cytherian orchids have been added to the cargo (worth £1,200 if sold on Earth).


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Current Turn
Winter 1889-1890


(Flow Season on Mars)

Post away!
 
"I thank you for your kindness," Ritter said, and the High Martian bowed and left for his town. Ritter returned to the ship, thinking over what he had been talking about with the Martian. He had asked, in the name of all of his people, for some cold German beer and arts of all kinds.

The German arts could be easy to gain, after all there were sure to be lots of painters willing to sell their works for some money, and German beer was quite cheap, especially in Munich.

The main problem he had was that they would actually have to set foot on Germany, the country he had abandoned after the whole problem with the zeppelin he had piloted years ago. Having discovered the conspiracy behind the destruction of that zeppelin, and the deaths of all people on board - including himself - he had been forced to run away from everything he had held dear for a good part of his life.

He only hoped that, if they went to Germany, he managed to avoid being found by one of the people in the conspiracy.
 
Friday had learned only a few phrases from his dictionary and the religious booklets. He still did not think it was a good idea to greet anyone with the phrase “Blessings of the Worm upon you.”

Frankly the other phrases were just as problematic, they only convinced the occasional Martian here that he had a conversational knowledge of Koline, which he did not. The ensuing, extremely confusing, conversation even revealed that Friday had not managed to conjugate verbs properly and the third Martian who he had greeted with a common salutation took it quite personally when Friday insisted forcefully that it was he who did not speak Koline.

Thankfully a bystander had come to his aid, some sort of grammatical fairy who had conjugated the hell out of that verb, “He doesn’t mean you can’t speak Koline, he just doesn’t speak Koline.”

In French the bystander had then spoken briefly about verbs to Friday before rubbing his chin and exclaiming, “Le Narcisse! Le Photographe!”

“Oui,” Friday responded. That aspect of his reputation was extremely cemented here, he had offered photographs to Korplok and his family, while Kurtz made outlandish promises.

“This is just a taste” Kurtz had said to the leader, showing him a stick of dynamite, the fuse snipped to exactly the right length, lighting it and hurling it into the air.

Friday had taken photographs even of the three of them, the man who had taken the grammatical slight, the bystander and even had one of himself which he had allowed the French speaking Martian to take. It had taken quite some time, but at the end of it they had agreed to meet there the following day so that Friday could process the picture.

He had then spent another few hours wandering the streets, listening to people talking. He successfully asked for a plate of the local cuisine and had found it, well, palatable. He had traded a few of his pounds sterling for a veritable fortune in the local currency to Korplok, after the photograph the two of them had an extensive discussion through a translator about the kragg, what sort of places were where.

The rest of the crew was on the Narcissus, making extensive “Earth style maps” with the highest caliber of precision, landing occasionally to make precise measurements. It was just a supplemental gift, the photographs were processing, all manner of various trinkets bought off the crew for outrageous prices, 80 lbs. of dynamite and Hans’ revolvers had been offered up already to the leader.

Now Friday was taking pictures of street scenes, his watch told him that he had another three hours before Korplok and his translator had asked him to speak to the various nurses and caregivers about Earth medical techniques, bacterial theory, just kind of a long term plan of progress in fighting disease interspersed with as much day to day practical advice as he could possible offer. Friday had done his share of lectures through a translator, in Cairo for instance and in Addis Abba, but in general he did not find them to work well. The photographs at least would be able to communicate between the cultures, he doubted his medical advice would be that helpful.

Kinda like the maps, Friday thought, in fact he was certain that Kurtz was just grasping at straws. He wants to get all of the high flow maps he had already done around here, the low flow maps, overlay them along with demarcations of fertile land, potential mineral deposits, all manner of things Friday was quite certain that the Kragg either had for themselves or would be unable to utilize.

Little children standing still for the duration of the exposure, Friday encourages them with a rough phrase and hands them a handful of coins.

But these photographs take a long time to expose, he only has a couple that he’ll be able to save to sell on Earth, or at least have exhibited.

Before long he finds himself in front of an extremely befuddled crowd trying to explain the idea that illnesses are caused by microorganisms. He had gotten worse receptions before, but not many.
 
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