A prelude..
Trooper Dumas of the Legion Terra-Rouge looked out over the dark shapes of the ruins that surrounded him and huddled further down into his coat. The twin Martian moons gave little light to the landscape, but enough for him to shudder at the eerie sight of the twisted and misshapen columns that surrounded him. The lost city of Ganash could stay lost for all he cared. He could hear laughter coming from camp. Sounded like Raymond has just won another game of ca va. He silently cursed the sergeant for taking away his smokes but remembered his words ?blinds a man at night and your enemies know just where to aim..two inches above the glow..?. Not for him to argue with the sergeant. Not that anyone did. Sergeant Lafarge WAS the legion. No one knew how old he was or how long he?d been on Mars. There were many stories about him. But the most famous was that of the siege at the fort at Gauche. Over two thousand Termions has attempted to dig under or climb over the battlements for six months. When the Martian war was over the defenders were relieved. Out of five hundred legionnaires only six were found alive. It was said that Lafarge was found with the bodies of fifty Termions piled around him, and had fashioned a crude club from the femur of one enemy, having devoured his flesh..
Dumas shoved his hands so far into his coat that he found an old stub of a Drune charoot he?d forgotten about. Leaning his rifle against the wall he crouched down behind the large stones so that no-one in camp would be able to see him and lit it up. For a split moment he noticed that the glow was reflected by numerous eyes that stood directly in front of him and that the stars above were blotted out by the great legs of the gigantic beast. But that is all he noticed as his head was split in two. About two inches above the glow of his cheroot.
The next morning dawned on the dig site . Lines of Drune labourers were already silhouetted on the skyline, making use of the early morning cool. The soldiers of the French expedition were milling around camp or forming search lines. In the officers tent Raymond O?Keefe was amusing himself by flicking dung beetles onto the research table of Gaston, the half deaf researcher from the Sorbonne, who was poring over the findings of the day before, including some rubbings of the central pillar hieroglyphics. The flap opened and in strode the tall shape of Henri, Comte d?Artois and leader of the expedition. His normally placid face looked drawn.
?Do stop annoying Gaston..he has got some work to do..?
?Sorry old bean. Any news on your chap??
?Not yet. They found this next to one of those foul smelling holes? he placed a stub of cheroot on the table. ?Think he may have fallen in. Also they found some blood?.
Gaston?s head arced up ?Hmm? Blood you say? Yes, I think that about sums it up for these inscriptions on the pillars?.
?You?ve found something?? Henri bent over his work table, flicking as he did so a dung beetle out of an inkwell.
?Well, the older stuff still baffles me, but the crude work is definitely Termion, but very old. From the Drune cipher we know that these symbols mean blood, and this one means sacrifice. But I?m stuggling to understand this one. Appears everywhere, this eight pointed star..?
?Well all this is fascinating gentlemen? O?Keefe said swinging his legs off his campbed and strolling to the tent flap ?but a face doesn?t shave itself . Back soon?.
Gaston raised one eyebrow at Henri in a way that stated ?why did we have to bring him along??. Henri smiled. ?Ignore him, he?s an old friend. And besides, we may yet have need of his skills?.
A moment later O?Keefe re-entered the tent, his face half shaven and a tear in his shirt quite apparent. He strode up to the work table and took another look at the picture. ?That is not a star gentlemen, that is a spider??
Henri smiled ?You English are so impetuous. How can you know this??
But O?Keefe was already opening a box under his bed and pulling from it a stick of dynamite.
?Because my dear fellow? he said stuffing the fuse into the casing and pausing to light it with the pipe that was now half hanging from the dropped jaw of his friend ?you have a spider problem?.
Striding outside with O?Keefe, the archeologists were met with the sight of the roof of the officers latrine lifting off to reveal a huge white bulbous thorax . The side walls already had several legs which had split through the timber and the door reading ?officers only? had somehow got wedged on it?s mandibles. O?Keefe flung the stick directly at it?s eyes.
Ten seconds later the largest pieces of beast and timber latrine had ceased descending on the startled Frenchmen, who lay spread around the crater which had once been the toilet.
?Mon Dieu!? Henri Comte d?Artois exclaimed.
?What is it that we have discovered??
?Well old chap..? O? Keefe looked at his friend ?always check under the toilet seat would be a good start I?d say?.
The detonation shook around the old city. Stoned toppled from their perches of eons and pillars tilted more precariously. And not a mile distant many eyes were watching.
Colonel Muller of the Kaisers Shocktruppen took the field glasses from his sentry and looked over at the plume of dust emerging from the French camp. More blasting? That one seemed to be on the surface though. Perhaps an accident? He winced a little as he noticed the dark shape of Spiegler appear next to him.
?Problems Muller??.
Spiegler of the Kaisers own secret police knew just how to twist words. It sounded to Muller like ?YOUR problem Muller..?.
?Probably nothing. Our spy still indicates that they found the main chamber yesterday. The item is already in their keeping. We still go at dusk?.
?Good. And the good Professor Snapes will do the rest I am sure. Any news on your missing men??
?Not yet, but we found traces next to one of those stinking holes. My men are exploring it now.?
And further into the city more eyes watched both the Prussians and French. The Drune chieftan and his tribal leaders would not sit by idly as the desecrators destroyed the city of their ancestors or bring forth the power trapped within. At dusk they would be put to the sword..
And as the sun slips it?s grasp upon the shattered stones of Ganash for yet another day, the sound of the clicking of mandibles rises from the stinking chasms that surround our brave explorers....
Battle report and pics soon.
31 March 2008, 04:08:48 PM