The hull of the Indomitable thrummed as her steam engine powered her twin propellers. Captain Umbridge scanned the horizon ahead looking for signs of any High Martian Pirates. In the months since the High Martians had officially withdrawn from the Oenotrian War, no fewer than four British merchant vessels had vanished along the edges of the Astutapes Highlands.
“Smoke!” shouted the lookout atop the crows nest. The Captain stepped out of the wheelhouse to see the young man pointing aft. Raising his binoculars the Captain focused on the puff of white drifting over a mesa to the east. “That’s not smoke…It’s steam.”
Budrajah and Carlotta had just emerged from belowdecks. “Another ship?” asked Carlotta in her accented English.
“Yes. A steamship. Perhaps a launch from Parhoon bringing us a message,” said the Captain. “Bring her about Mr. Wainwright!”
Just as the rudders began to shift the Captain caught a glimpse of movement at the edge of the eastward mesa. “What the bloody hell?...”
As sleek, torpedo shaped vessel came around the rocky formation. A pair of gunports in her bow were readily apparent and two bursts of smoke blasted from them. An instant later a great boom sounded as one shell tore into the port propeller and the other slammed into the aft of Indomitable’s belly. “TO YOUR GUNS!” screamed the Captain.
Carlotta scrambled into the wheelhouse to help keep the ship in trim as Budrajah dashed below in a panic to see if Lizzie was safe. “Tex” Croft had his Big Fifty in hand and dashed to the railing as he chambered a round into the buffalo gun. He drew down on the enemy craft but her entire hull was encased in iron plating. “There ain’t nothin’ to shoot at!” the Texan yelled to Umbridge.
Another pair of shots blasted from the enemy ship but Indomitable was now taking evasive action and at this extreme range the shells sailed past harmlessly. As the Indomitable turned a broadside toward the armored vessel the starboard Hotchkiss Rotating Cannon opened fire. One of The Professor’s patented Detonite rounds exploded off the spine of the enemy ship but left only a scorch mark. The 6-inch gun cranked all the way over to starboard and fired as soon as it came to bear. It too struck the enemy but did no visible damage to the armored hull.
Budrajah found Lizzie tending wounded men in the corridor near the engine room. He could hear a disconcerting grinding noise coming from the rear of the ship. The Professor bulled past the Gurhka and scrambled up to the main deck. Budrajah knew that Lizzie would not abandon these wounded men and she was as safe belowdeck as anywhere on the ship. He crouched nervously in a hatchway waiting for whatever would come next.
“Damage report, Professor McTaggart!” the Captain bellowed as the barrel-chested chief engineer came on deck.
“Half of my men are out of action! And the bloody port propeller shaft is snapped! The boiler took a hit and is starting to overpressure! I’ve got to shut her down, Captain!”
Umbridge grabbed the older man by the shirt. “If we shut that engine down then we all die! We’re on a single screw and I NEED MORE POWER to maneuver!” As if to emphasize the Captain’s point, another shell from the enemy ship struck a glancing blow on the starboard side of the ship. One of the 6-inch gun crew fell clutching a shrapnel wound. The enemy ship was closing and her fire was becoming more accurate.
“If I run her how she is she’ll blow, Captain!” screamed McTaggart even as he eyed the armored enemy in horror.
The Captain shoved the Professor back toward the hatchway and yelled after him, “Then we’ll die by my hand instead of theirs!” He ducked back into the wheelhouse. “Carlotta, did you get a look at that ship?”
The defrocked Spanish nun-turned pirate turned to look at him, not letting go of the trim lever she struggled with. “Yes. Covered in iron. We’d have to hit it at a hatch or gunport to do any damage to it at all.”
The noise became louder as the starboard engine began to spin faster, giving the ship some much needed thrust and maneuverability. The Captain yelled over the din, “With all that armor, it can’t be capable of much altitude, right?!” He took the wheel from Lieutenant Wainwright and told the young officer, “Pass the word to throw anything non-essential overboard! Lighten her up as much as you can!”
“What are you doing?” screamed Carlotta.
“I’m landing us up there where they can’t shoot at us!” The captain pointed to an irregular mesa looming a hundred feet above the ship.
Carlotta looked up where the Captain pointed, wide eyed in disbelief, “Madre de DIOS! We’ll never make it that high!”
The Captain spun the wheel, aiming the ship toward a slight dip in the edge of the plateau. “Neither will they!”
All down the length of the ship cargo was hurled overboard to crash into the Martian badlands below. Crates of supplies, spare ammo and armor patches. Whatever wasn’t tied down went over the side. The Captain steadied the wheel and Carlotta gripped the trim levers. The boiler made popping noises and steam began to escape from several seams but they gained speed and, foot by foot, altitude.
Another shot from the armored attacker exploded into the belly of the Indomitable just as her nose pointed skyward for the last bit of altitude she needed to clear the edge of the plateau. Men and metal screamed as the ship scraped over stone and rocked forward again, skidding across the top of the flat mountain. Professor McTaggart was thrown bodily from the engine room by the impact.
Ensign Jenkins saw his mentor slam into a bulkhead and briefly lose consciousness. Scrambling from the floor he pulled himself into the engine room even as the ship skidded to a halt. He looked in terror as the pressure gauge on the boiler was pegged. He grabbed the handle on the pressure release valve and pulled all his weight against it. The handle snapped where a piece of shrapnel had deeply scored the steel from the initial shell. A rivet shot from one of the seams of the boiler, followed quickly by another.
Jenkins spared a final look into the hallway filled with wounded men, Lizzie and the stunned Professor McTaggart. He slammed closed the hatch and then rounded on the boiler with the broken steel handle in his grip. He let forth a cry and brought the handle slamming into the pressure gauge and live steam exploded to fill the engine room…
********************************
The Captain stood at the edge of the plateau watching as the armored ship began a turn westward. He had been correct: The armored ship could not achieve the altitude necessary to pursue them up onto the mesa. They were leaving now but for how long? And who were they?!
The heavy footsteps of the Professor approached from behind. The Captain didn’t turn to look at him. “How many?”
McTaggart answered his Captain, trying to keep the tremble from his voice, “Five. Including Jenkins. He was killed instantly of course. Lizzie did the best she could for the others. Probably saved a few too, but…” The Professor’s voice trailed off in silence.
The Captain filled the void, “How long?”
“With most of the engine crew killed or wounded? Lots of the parts I’d need are scattered all over the valley floor too. Five days to get her working. And even then I don’t know how we’d get her down from here. It was only speed, good piloting and brass ballocks that got us up here in the first place.” The Professor managed a smile. “You saved us, lad.”
Umbridge turned to look at his chief engineer. “Jenkins saved us. I stranded us.”
McTaggart began to protest but saw Lt. Wainwright approaching. He wouldn’t think of contradicting the Captain in front of the other men.
The limping junior officer saluted his Captain. “I checked our supplies as you asked, sir. We’ve enough provisions for a couple of weeks if we ration them carefully.”
“Good work, Leftenant,” said the Captain. His voice had lost any hint of doubt. “Now set about making sure that all the deck guns are working and have ammunition laid by. And see if you can find me a rifle and some rope.”
“Rifle and rope, sir? Uh…your pardon sir! I’ll get right to it!” The Lieutenant hurried away as best his limp would allow.
Captain Umbridge turned and focused his binoculars on the armored vessel as it steamed away to the west through a pass in the mountains.
“What do you think you’re doing, lad?” asked McTaggart when Wainwright was out of earshot.
“I’m going after that ship, Professor.” His green eyes locked on the stern of the ambusher as it turned a corner out of view. There he found the name of the enemy ship written in large letters of the High Martian language: “REVENGE”
