The Redhart Journals (A Gaya spinoff story)

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The story is set in, and started off as a set of Omakes in, Open_Sketchbook's Gaya universe that is currently slowly taking over SV Quests forum. An alternate Earth where nations that are not quite like those that existed in our own early 20th century history are engaged in struggles both military and technological. It is a setting of marvelous machines, titianic infrastructure, and ambundant romance. Now we begin our takeover of new lands in User FIction.

The current active quests in this continuity will be linked here:
Aircraft Design Company - A startup aviation company makes its namein the Empire of Akitsukuni during the early years of Flight.
Castles of Steel - The first female officer in the Empire of Akitsukuni's Navy struggles against chauvinism, fascism and social expectations.
Jine the Cavalry - Set seventy years in the past, a Cavalry officer fights on the New Alleghanian frontier as her nation begins to feel the strain of it's divisions.
Barnstormer Quest - A New Alleghanian bush pilot sets out to prove his skills as the best stunt pilot in the West.
If Mahan Could See Us Now- A young Naval officer in the Kingdom of Varnmark fights tooth and nail agaisnt conspirators and rebels that seek to to tear her homeland apart.
Rocket Design Agency- A brilliant Engineer makes his mark at the dawn of the Rocket age.
Fill Your Hand, You Son of A Bitch- Set fourty years in the past, a bounty hunter wakes up after being bushwacked on the New Alleghany-Taxcoco border.
The Spine Chilling Adventures of an Ordinary Author- An Author in the the Albian Union begins to write spooky stories.



As some background this particualr story is set during contemporary to the Aircraft Design Quest, in a war between The Empire of Akitsukuni (defiantely not Japan) and Grand Caspia (totally not Imperial Russia), our protagonist is a renowned officer in the Albian Uniuon's army (couldn't possibly be the British Empire) who will be thrust into the middle of these events via circumstance, folly, and outright incompetance.

Any resembalance to published fictional characters and works is totally coincidental, and you can't sue me, because I have no money.



The Redhart Journals

Whilst the majority of the Redhart Journals - the collected memoirs of famed 20th century Albian war hero Sir Robert Horatio Redhart, AC, KCD, KCGR discovered at an auction in Shanango, New Alleghany, in 2016- each describe a coherent narrative of one of the eponymous author's adventures, in editing the manuscripts for publication I have come across a number of separate shorter accounts, by themselves insufficient to fill a full book. Several of these seem to follow on naturally enough from one of the longer journals, and where possible I have appended them to such narration. However there exist a few that bear no such relation to Redhart's other recollections, as such I have elected to group them by relative theme into anthologies for release to the public. This volume is the first of such works and covers several of Redheart's exploits during the Caspio-Akitsukunese conflict of 1911, and later on the Far-Eastern Front of the Great War.
The first of these self contained minor narratives is...


Redhart Takes Flight

-1
I take it as a point of principle never to let a chance slip by when it comes to dealing a bad hand to someone who has wronged me. Oh the Revelation-thumping goody two shoes god botherers will prattle on to no end about how the other cheek must be turned, and meekness shall inherit the earth, but look where that got their bloody saviour. I for one have no interest in having my extremities threaded through any sort of rotating object.
Not that most 'devout' Icthysians actually practice such preachings, as a rule they are the most terrible of hypocrites. I should know, during my brief stint in the Lateran Palace as Supreme Pontiff [1] I met some of the most spiteful and vindictive creatures you could possibly imagine. It obviously stood them in good stead, apart from the occasional spot of collegial murder, that pit of vipers lived better than any monarch I have known. So much for lives of charity and humility.
No, if I have learned anything it is that vengeance is not only highly satisfying, but in almost all cases highly rewarding.

However, there is one case during my long career where I would have been far better served to follow the teachings of that poor Tyrian stone mason. Had I let an, in retrospect, trifling injury go unpunished, and stoically weathered the stinging insult that accompanied it I would have been spared from ordeal that still makes shiver in horror, and reach for the calming balm of a whisky bottle to this day.

It began, as so many truly rotten ideas do, in the oak panelled halls of The War Office, then still located at Wellington House on the north bank of the Oberon. I had been on leave for the past month following the conclusion of my service in Arrogonia, and had spent the time most fruitfully, whiling away my aches and pains in the finest booze halls and smoke filled gambling dens of the South bank. In those days the seedy underbelly of Artemis was perhaps the closest a chap like me could get to paradise on earth. Every possible vice was catered for, the liquor and cigars flowed freely, and there was always pleasant company to be had. Beautiful women, and sycophantic toadies alike that would eagerly hang with rapt attention on every word of the hero of Dheera Valley. [2] It was just the thing to help me forget all about that beastly business with Y Bachyn and my terrifying odyssey to the peaks of the Cerro Melincue. [3]

I tell you this dear reader, so that may have some small inkling of the distress that was caused to me when my respite was rudely interrupted. It was a tuesday, so I was enjoying the hospitality of the Ullerman Club, a most hospitable establishment that is now sadly closed. I had spent a good few hours at the well stocked bar -its is damned hard to find a good bottle of Glenhaddoch in any house these days- with the delightful companionship of a young woman from the Home Office, when one of the porters approached and had the unmitigated gall to interrupt a chap when he in the middle of the chase.

I was about to damn his eyes, and send him running with a clap about the ears for his troubles, when the weaselly fellow announced that a message from a Colonel Harper had been wired to the club, requesting my urgent presence at Wellington House on the hour. At the mention of that name my blood chilled.

Colonel Benjamin Harper.

I had sat there for a moment, willing myself not to break down into a trembling wreck.By the time I had grasped some level of inner composure, the wretch had left, without so much as a 'by your leave'. My drinking companion made her excuses, leaving me alone holding the printed telegram slip. In daze I made my way out of the Ullerman, almost oblivious to the people and scenery around me, whilst me mind scrambled to find a way out of what was certain to be another terrible ordeal.

Colonel Harper man who had caused me much grief in the past, and in an honest telling, not without cause. We had met during my first posting to Ganjay, and though I have recounted those affairs in a previous journal, I shall briefly recount them here.
Colonel Harper, then a mere major, had been attached to the headquarters of General Harmon as an intelligence officer during the expedition up the Gundar. He had spent much of the campaign ranging about the local villages rubbing palms with the local headmen, and attempting to organise support against Hamood Khan. We had not socialised much in the early days, he had seemed a most terrible bore, always quick to sneer at the carousing and cheer of the other young officers and I. More at home in his own quarters, burrowing into piles of reports and charts. We had delighted in snubbing him at every opportunity.

It was not until after the disaster at Larangasha that we became more properly acquainted, When Harper conscripted me into the mad scheme to assassinate the King of Kharkarastan. When that debacle inevitably came to a miserable end, the both of us were left in a sticky situation involving a group of murderous Kathan tribesmen. When the opportunity presented itself I had escaped with the aid of my cunning wiles, and the beautiful Kathan huntress Lalama Soor.

Benjamin Harper I left to his fate.

To my incredible misfortunate the prig was not chopped up and fed to the goats, and after an improbable series of events that rivaled my own supposed 'heroics' in the telling, had managed to get back to a friendly frontier fort, terribly scarred but alive.

Subsequent to that we had met again years later during the Rzedar Crisis where he had returned the favour by abandoning me on the gunboat Loghnhoff, surrounded by mutineers. I got out of that scrape lucky to not have lost any limbs to the mad appetites of the Chief Engineer. [4] Despite making such an escape, I had taken great pains to avoid meeting the man again, for fear that he would finish the job for those Markovian loons.

Even then I was fairly sure it was he who was responsible for my assignment to several of the more perilous missions on behalf of the DMI. [5] The last I heard he had been missing on some hush hush mission in Cathay. Something I had taken a great deal of comfort in. Apparently he had returned.


I had just arrived at the firm decision to immediately take ship to Katuroa and live out the rest of my life as a coconut farmer, when I was accosted by a jovial shout from a parked automobile.

"What ho Bobby!"

My head snapped around, and I began reaching for the holdout revolver concealed within my jacket. Only to relax slightly when I saw the speaker. Lieutenant George Shapes, was an old comrade from the 11th Lancer Regiment. As associates go his qualities were quite excellent, an amiable companion in the mess, free with drinks at the bar and a poor but enthusiastic gambler. We had been frequent conspirators during the campaigns of revelry and debauchery waged in brothels of the capital over the past fortnight.

"Oh ah Georgie lad. Capital morning. I'm afraid I can't talk, I must dash. Urgent business to attend to." I replied, struggling to put up a front of bluff cheer.

"Yes I know, to the War Office." He said, a wide smile on his treacherous face. "I've been sent to courier you over. General Marsh's orders."

For a moment there I ran through every possible response. Running, fighting, falling into a gibbering heap and claiming sudden madness. None would do. Too many witnesses, my true nature as an utter coward would be unveiled fall all to see.

Instead I swallowed, and forced a smile onto my face. "Capital lad, capital. Saves me the omnibus fare in any case." I climbed into the passenger seat of his black staff car, and resigned myself to the fate that awaited me.

We sped through the wide tree lined boulevards of the new town, threading through traffic of horse drawn carts, and overtaking the few puttering fellow motor vehicles that plied the streets of the Albian capital. Georgie chatted amiably as he drove, blathering idiotically about his latest jaunt with West Lants hunt. I, caught in a dreadful funk, could manage little more than to grunt out the most basic platitudes as he talked. Eventually he trailed off and gave me a queer look.

"Dash it Bobby, but you're awful quiet." Still pondering the approach of imminent doom, I could only offer a grunt in reply. "Pondering your new mission I suppose."

The idiot grinned happily. "What I would do to go along with you Bobby, just like old times."

Wanting nothing more that smash is head into the steering wheel in front of him, I offered some bluff reply about duty and service. He nodded in agreement, and we fell back into blessed silence.
After briefly being caught behind one of the new electric trams, as it stopped to disgorge passengers, we crossed the old Hollycrest Bridge and past the Palace of Highstone into the very heart of the Albian Union's government.

Vast edifices of stone, wrought in the neo-classical style towered on all sides, each one home to some government office or other. All tasked with recording and notarizing every detail of the Albian Empire from the fair green hills of the home counties to the far off Auroric Island territories. Here worked the most powerful bureaucrats and politicians in history. Or as my father once put it, the greatest collection of cheats, blackguards, scoundrels and fools that the world has ever seen. And now we pulled up outside the most idiotic heap of them all.

Tall marble columns, thickly fluted, framed a wide stair and double oak doors banded in brass. Collonaded wings spread out on either side, capped with domes of weathered green. Wellington House, home of the War Office.
Dismounting, we swept inside, and Shapes bid me farewell. I briefly considered disappearing into those dark corridors, and making my escape. But that fleeting hope was dashed as a I noticed Georgie signing me in at the front desk.

Traitor.

Glumly I let one of the stewards lead me up the stairs, and along the upper corridor to the Intelligence Department. The young woman rapped smartly upon the door marked 'Colonel Harper, DMI, Far East Desk' on a brass placard and announced my presence, before giving me a curt bow and disappearing back into the bowels of this infernal place.

"Enter" A stern voice sounded from within the chamber. I put my hand on the door and braced myself.

He wouldn't kill me here would he? Too many witnesses surely?


Taking a deep breath a pushed the leg shaking fear as far out of my mind as it could go, and opened the door. A tall man in uniform stood facing the windows, looking out towards Chapelfields and Baxter's Column.

I lingered near the door, uncertain and ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Finally I plucked up what little strands of courage I could muster.

"Captain Redhart, reporting as ordered sir." I croaked out.

The figure turned to face me and I instantly recognized him a Colonel Harper. His face was scarred, and leather patch covered his left eye, concealing the wound where the Kathans had plucked it out. Upon his lips was a stone faced neutral expression that regarded me stonily. He stepped forward, and I was ready to throw myself around his knees and beg forgiveness, when suddenly a warm grin cracked over his scarred mouth.

"Robert!" He threw his arms wide and scooped me up into bear hug.

At first I thought he might be trying to crush me, but then to my astonishment I realised he was sobbing.

"Oh Robert, I am so glad that you are unharmed. He released me, but kept a meaty paw clamped on my shoulder. "I must apologize. I did you a great wrong in Markovia. Can you find it within yourself to forgive me?"

To say I was stunned is a gross understatement. I had entered that room expecting to be all but butchered for the many sleights I had inflicted upon this man, and here he was blubbering like a great child over how sorry he was.

My thoughts reeled for a while, and I blurted out. "But Kharkarastan, the Kathans?"

He dropped his arm and looked at me, seemingly confused. "What? Oh that. Yes a bloody business. But you did what was necessary for this mission. Your duty. More than that by god, holding Agadh against Hamood Khan's screaming hordes. You went beyond all calling, like a modern day Ajax! No, I do not blame you for any part of my captivity."

Astounded as I was that the man I had assumed was my nemesis had apparently swallowed the tales of my ill-won legend whole. Well if nothing, I am never one to disabuse notions to my benefit. I patted his arm in a brotherly fashion, and put on my 'Bobby the Brave' persona, mumbling out humble platitudes about only doing my part. This seemed to please him further. And he offered me a seat whilst he poured out two glasses of fine brandy.


As we sat he explained that though he had he doubts about me in the beginning, my actions after we parted in the Khan's palace had proved my credentials beyond doubt. He had been ecstatic when he learned that I had later been seconded to the DMI. He was indeed behind getting me posted to several of the more terrifying places of the world.

I clenched my fingers into the material of the arm chair as he related this to me, and at that moment wanted desperately to jump up yelling in his face and beat him around the thick skull with the heavy lamp that sat on his desk. Instead I smiled jovially and related some of the tales of my exploits to him, the revised versions that painted me in a good light of course.

This seemed to please the fool to no end, though when we came to the events of the Lefnhoff mutiny he became more grave.

"You must understand dear fellow that it was all my fault. If only I had been faster to act, I could have saved you from the whole debacle. It was the damned prince you see, he had…" He trailed off. "No matter, no excuses now. The failure was mine. Do I have your forgiveness Robert?"

Forgiveness? The cretin would be lucky if pissed on his grave.

"Of course Colonel. Think nothing of it." I said, as magnanimously as I could manage.

"Splendid!" He exclaimed "Simply splendid, and do please call me Benjamin. I think us close enough acquaintances for that."

I agreed and after feeding the damned prig a few more choice lies concerning my more recent exploits. Veiled of course by a coasting of humble deflection and thick modesty. I had learned early on that was the way to get the starry eyed military types eating out of your hand. Harper seemed to be fallen for it as hard as any.

Eventually he paused his questioning and gained a solemn look.

"You may have wondered of course, that I did not summon you here to reminisce." I began to feel a heavy weight in my gut. "The truth is I have new assignment for you, and I'm afraid you are not going to like it." The weight dropped out of me and I struggled not to start quaking in that chair like the utter poltroon that I am.

"It's this war the Caspians have got themselves into with those Akitusnese devils." I replied that I had. I vaguely recalled something on page six of the herald a week or two ago.
"Well some deuced odd things have being going on, heavy casualties out of all proportion, and yet little progress to show for it, and even now some kind of combat taking place in the very air itself. These are things that Her Majesty's government must have a full account of. We had a man on the Aki side of things giving observations, but the poor devil went and got himself Tuberculosis. He's been invalided back home, and we've lost our eyes."

"An observer?" I ventured questioningly.

" Yes. I'm sorry, there will be no chance for glory in this one. Purely a staff role really. I know it will pretty tiresome for a man of action like you, but I remembered your gift for languages Robert. And how you pattered with that Aki merchant back in Tychore. You are the just man I can think of to do this."

My heart rose. This was just the ticket, a cush posting far away from this den of vipers, and the looming possibility of being sent on a another death-laden mission in an armpit of the world. Instead I could spend fruitful months sampling the exotic delights of Tokio, far away from any real danger. After it was over I might even be able to use the experience to curry my way into a nice soft posting on some doddering general's staff. It seemed to me like just the ticket I had been looking for to get out of my current intelligence gig.

"The most important thing is to get as much information as possible about these 'aircraft' are being employed." As I had been plotting my future career path, Harper had kept blathering on. I had missed most of it, but made sure to make the appropriate noises soa s to appear like he had my full attention.

"Aircraft?" I asked quizzically, the word caught my notice, and pulled my full attention back to him. "You mean those flying machines that everyone keeps chattering about." I took another sip of the brandy.

"Yes, yes." He said. "Just like the ones in that race we had a few years back.[6] Remember it?"

I did. I had lost a considerable amount betting on the Alleghanian machine.

"Of course. How much use they can be in military matter I don't quite see though. Nothing like a good horse beneath you and lance in the hand eh?" I blustered.

"Indeed, indeed." He answered with a wry smile. "But the Akis and Caps seem to have found some use, and I have some overly spectacled fellows from the technical sections raving about propellers and turn rates. I'll have all the relevant details sent over to your rooms. So will you do it.?" Hi question was asked quite earnestly. His expression looked almost like that of those types of particularly wormy schoolboys who are constantly seeking approval from their more popular classmates.

I let him work on me a bit more first of course. One should never appear too eager to get the easy assignments. Eventually he got a firm answer out of me, and we stood to shake hands like old friends. In that moment I felt the luckiest sod in the capital, like I had rolled all sixes and scored the jackpot.
If only I had known what awaited me in that blasted war on the far side of the world, I would have socked the blighter right in the mouth and taken the cell in Ramcaster with no regrets.[7]



[1] Unfortunately none of the existing manuscripts go into detail concerning the events mentioned here. Whether such a document has been lost in the time since it was written, or Redhart never got around to recording those experiences, is unknown.
[2] This references the events of the first Redhart journal, were as a young cornet he was decorated for his part in the siege of Fort Agadh.
[3] The events of Redhart's Reward, which detail Redhart's journeys in Meridia, precede those of this journal in direct chronology
[4] Events detailed in Redhart Gone Rogue.
[5] The Directorate of Military Intelligence
[6] This being the Great Cross Channel Aerial Race, won by the Akituskunian entry.
[7] The military prison for officers at the time.

 

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Redhart Takes Flight

-2
I had been feeling pretty plum after disentangling myself from Colonel Harper's schoolboy simpering, and had gone directly from the war office to my favourite gambling den come brothel -Madame Valvano's Boarding House- where I consumed the rest of the day getting fierced debauched in the company of two sparkling beauties going by the names of Rosalinda and Meledora. More vapid specimens would be hard to find, but they were quite eager, and relentlessly energetic.

I was so worn out by their lithesome ministrations that by the time I returned to my lodgings at the Grand Rose Hotel I was fit for nothing more than downing a night cap of Glenhaddoch from the wet bar and collapsing, quite comatose, into bed.
It was only some time after I awoke the next afternoon, in the grip of a beastly hangover that I found out that the Colonel had arranged for me to travel to Akitsukuni via train to dyskeland and then airship that evening.

The travel documents had been sent to me the previous day, along with a whole raft of reports and information about the war, Akitsukunese naval strength, Caspian train schedules, and other manner of sleep inducing errata. I found them around three, under a pile of discarded clothes and a half empty bottle of Chateux Amaline.

Realising that I was in no fit state to travel long distance, I decided that 'hair of the dog' was the best remedy and finished off the Amaline. I changed into my number three service uniform and got the steward to send up a couple of maids to pack my bags whilst I nursed a fresh bottle of whiskey.
After a bit chivving and the occasional pat on the rump for encouragement, the girls managed to get my togs all packed away and ready for travel. Some of them didn't even look bad. I was just considering whether there was enough time for a spot of pre travel excercise when the assistant concierge entered.

"Sir's taxicab is waiting at the main entrance." He announced in a hawty voice.

Somewhat put out I hauled myself downstairs, now feeling somewhat better after a dram and a half. I gulped down the remaining half, and then passed of the empty glass to the man as he waited expectantly by the door for his tip. Ignored the presumptuous toadstool's glower and descended the Grand Roses steps to where a short, broadly smiling, Ganjayan man in a taxi guild uniform doffed his hat and opened the door of his vehicle for me. I slumped onto the rear seat of the black taxi, barely taking note of the porters cramming my luggage into the back.

The driver piled into the front, still with an idiotic grin plastered over his face, and proudly informed me that he was:

"Diver first class Vaibhav Panikkar, at your service sah!" He belted out with a cadence that would have would not have been out of place on the Rhukow Parade Square.

With a lurch the taxi bounced away from the pavement and down the street, immediately the man launched into a babbling one sided conversation that seemed to bounce around topics as far ranging as the weather and the performance of the local cricket team. Being still somewhat worse for wear I initially presented, and tried my best to drown it and focus on the city streets rushing by.
This effort however was defeated by the terrifying speed and maneuvers with which my Ganjic driver was negotiating the traffic that choked Heptonham Road. A burst of nausea following a particularly sharp swerve to avoid the 4.45 omnibus to Halpern Junction, coincided with a question that mercifully drew my attention back into the interior.

"My blessed days sir! That I should be conveying the most illustrious Captain Redhart. Truly it is that I am most honoured!" The driver yelled over his shoulder.

I mumbled something about being no great deal. Being at the time more focused on trying to keep my liquid diet from reappearing.

"Why it is a great and most fortunate coincidence sir! My Wife's uncle served with you at the Agadh Fort! Subedar-Major Shakravati, 12th Frontier Rifles. Killed in action of course, God's rest his soul!" Panikkar twisted fully around, though kept his hands on the wheel and seemed to be able to steer quite well without looking. "Your most valiant defence stopped those vile Kathan savages from defiling his body. Got him home to be burned right, ashes sprinkled into the waters of the Great Mother. I must shake your hand sir!" He said reaching out to me.

Weakly I returned the gesture as best I could. There appeared to be tears in the man's eyes.

A loud air horn blast snapped my attention to the road ahead and my vision was suddenly filled by the bulk of an oncoming goods van.

"Good God man the road!" I yelped in fear.

Seemingly effortlessly Panikkar yanked the the steering wheel to the side and sent us careening around the approaching doom, laughing all the while. "Not to worry sir, Bessie is a good Taxi, she keeps us safe!" I spent the rest of the journey to St. Cyprian Station in terror that theis mad little man was going to kill me.

Having mercifully survived I staggered out of the deathtrap and tried to steady my frayed nerves by making use of the pocket flask I kept stocked for emergencies. Meanwhile Panikkar marshalled some of the nearby station porters to pile my luggage onto a trolley, barking at the shiftless lot in a voice that rivalled my old drill sergeant major. Once this was accomplished he stood ramrod straight next to his machine, looking at me expectantly.

I stared blankly for a moment, before fishing out an old kerchief and scribbling my signature on it. I palmed this off to him, affecting my best Bluff Bobby voice and clapped him on the shoulder, commending him for his skill.
He stared at the fabric square his hands, mouth working open and closed like a fish, and I took this opportunity to leave, motioning the porter manning the trolley to follow. As I entered the main arch of the station I heard Pannikar yell after me.

"Most Thankful sir! I shall treasure it always!"

The poor deluded fool.


The following train journey was pleasantly uneventful. It left St. Cyprian's on time, still suffering from my prior indulgence and rather than suffer the headache inducing tedium of listening to my fellow travelers inane chatter, I opted to continue the cure that was working so far. Thus I spent the entire distance from Artemis to Dyskelande in a drunken stupor, not even waking when the carriage was embarked upon the cross-channel ferry.

I must have been snoring like some kind of Ophirian jungle-beast, as when I awoke, my compartment was empty save for one horrified looking Dyskche woman, wearing an immaculate skirt suit, and horn rimmed glasses, who had pushed herself as far into the opposite corner as possible. Not feeling entirely human in any case, I grunted groggily, clawed hands scrabbling around for the flask in my jacket, that I had used as an impromptu blanket.
Upon discovering it I glugged down the contents noisily, and let out a hearty belch, that seemed to right a great deal of the churning in my gut. I took in my surroundings lazily, noting the generous proportion of my travelling companion, and beginning to bit randy now that I was well rested. She looked the prim, bookish type, they often needed a little encouragement, but nine out of ten under the prudish exterior there was a wildcat waiting to be let out. I gave her a patented Robbie leer, guaranteed to have them panting for it.
The woman let out a squeak of terror and fled, clutching her belongings up tight to her chest.

Well, there were some who were just too repressed.

Shaking the detritus off me, I stood and stretched, working out the cramps that my sleeping position had knotted into my arms and legs. I noticed my former compartment-mate had left a book abandoned on the floor. I scooped it up and thumbed through. It was a trashy gothic romance novel, written in Dyskche of course, it was the kind of literature moon headed young girls of that sort devoured. I turned it over and saw the author's name printed on the cover. Willem Schiele, of course, I snorted and tossed the book over my shoulder. [1]

I proceeded to avail myself of the bathing compartment two cars down, and having completed the necessary ablutions, was beginning to feel quite human again. By the time I had found the dining car and settled down at a table with a half decent plate of steak and eggs to satiate my now ravenous hunger, we were deep into the Oberwald. A seemingly endless carpet of dark leafed trees rushed by the windows, stretching up into the distant foothills of the Kogeln Mountains. By this time I was feeling pretty content, and stretched out, happy to enjoy the scenery, a glass of brandy and the rich smoke of a fine Espadan Cigar. Dyskelande is nothing if not a pretty country, not a touch on the rolling hills and comfortable country villages of old blighty of course, but possessed of it own unique charm.

The train stopped in several of the small towns that are found scattered across that region of the Reich, each made up of the kind of twee buildings that you see adorning the enameled biscuit tins hoarded by old ladies the world over. As the distant mountains grew nearer, and we began to ascend to our final destination, I managed to properly tail off the booze, and the effects of my previous hangover had mostly faded. So when the train began to slow II was feeling in fine fettle.

The first indication that we had arrived, was when a vast shadow fell over carriage, and made the car interior seem gloomy and dim. I couple of passengers rushed to the windows and craned their eyes upwards, muttering excitedly. The shadow passed, and the object that cast it hove into view, as it continued it's descent. A massive cigar shape that gleamed like silver in the sun. One small boy seemed so enthused that he was jumping up and down on his seat and practically trying to force himself through the glass. Squealing with excitement he called out to his father that he saw another, and another.
To the young these days, such a sight might seem mundane, even old fashioned, but back then the sight of such a vast object hanging in the air as light a cloud was moving in for a jaded old cove like myself. And here we were in the very roost of such titans, Zeppelinstadt. [2]

I dismounted from the train in better order than I had embarked, and having corralled a uniformed station-girl, arranged to have my baggage sent on to the Air Harbour. I intended to follow soon after. A helpful fellow at the main desk informed me that my 'flight' was scheduled to depart later that evening, and so in the meantime I decided to avail myself of the local amenities.
Now the ignorant amongst you might think it a hard task for a chap to find the local bawdy houses and sin dens in a new and foreign town. However doing so is a vital skill that almost any soldier soon learns when on station or campaign, and is perhaps one of the true soldier skills, apart from my knack with a blade, that I truly excelled at. Needless to say that within half an hour, I was comfortably ensconced within the pleasant environs of Frau Hilde's Bistro and Massage Parlor, enjoying the company of a most comely Fraulein with whom I took the opportunity of practice my Dyskche, among other things.

It was in the afterglow of my language lessons, that I was smoking my second cigar of the day in a comfortable armchair in the bar when an oddly familiar voice spoke up behind me.

"Guten Tag Herr Bobby." My ears pricked up at the distinctive Northern Dsykche accent, and craned my head to see the newcomer, who obliging moved into view.

I smiled.

"Fancy meeting you here Gunter" I replied.

This was of course the same Gunter Strauss, of the Strauss Machine company who had been a companion during my revels at the Kyburg coronation in Reising. [3] A short whispish man, that might be regarded as the kind of weed that would be on the receiving end of regularly beastings at an Albian Public school. However those looks could be deceptive, and this unassuming man was nearly as an enthusiastic rake as I was. Gunter was something of a black sheep in the Strauss family, and though they did not exclude him from the business altogether, tended to keep him at arms length sending him on whatever endeavours that would keep him away from the family estate and the staff, both male and female, as possible. He cracked a similar smile and I stood so that we could shake hands properly.

"Ah nothing more than a business trip." He said lightly as we seated ourselves. "I should be more interested in what brings you to Zeppelinstadt Herr Bobby. Last time I saw you, you had that lovely Furstin Sophia on your arm. I'm sure you managed to bed her, didn't you Ja?"

I let the grin stay on my face, and leaned in tapping my nose. "Now Gunter you know a gentleman does not tell of such things."

Which was bollocks of course, but there were expected forms to follow in this kind of banter.

He roared with laughter. "You sly hund! Of course you did. If only I could have had such a beauty myself. Alas I had to settle for the Countess Von Katzendorf, a mere handmaid."

If I remembered correctly I had bedded that 'maid' too. Though I had bitterly regretted it following the mess she had got me into.

"Well then Bobby do tell, what does you bring you to highest Dyskelande?"

I proceeded to explain that I had been posted as Albian observer to the War in the far east, and was travelling there on the next Zeppelin to Akitsukuni. Gunter clapped his hands together in joy.

"Well that is completely splendid mein freund! My business is also taking me to Tokei! The little rascals are desperate for all the shells they can get and I am to negotiate setting up a new joint factory. We shall be travelling companions once again!"

We drank a toast to that, and chatted amiably for the next few hours. Gunter, having the interests of a somewhat overgrown schoolboy, waas most intrigued when I mentioned I was to be observing the aerial war in particular. When after some time Gunter glanced at his pocket watch, he announced that we ought to make our way to the terminal, so as to avoid the rush for later boarding. In good cheer we both left the establishment and made our way through Zeppelinstadt's cobbled streets to the cable car station.

This was necessary as Gunter explained due to the location of the Zeppelin Air Harbour, hewn from the rocks of the Donnerhorn that loomed above the city it allowed the vast craft to be brought closer than a basing them from a large empty field would allow. They could also be brought fully inside the huge hangers carved deep into the mountain to protect from the occasional storms that swept down from the Kogelns. It was inside similarly delved berthes that new Zeppelins were also constructed.
We embarked a car painted in the Zeppelin livery that began hauling us up the steep slope to where a trio of the vessels nestled against a a latticework of steel gantries projecting from the rockface like calves suckling their mother. Gunter marked out theses and other points of interest as we ascended, and I at least made a show of being interested. Though he was usually an engaging companion, Gunter did occasionally lapse into schoolboyish rapture when it came to the new technology and machines.

We were deposited inside a grand edifice wrought in the gothic style, and welcomed by an overly cheery attendant who checked our names against the embarkation list and then informed us that we were in luck as boarding had just begun. She escorted us to the the proper gantry, a prospect that I immediately became uneasy when faced with. Though sturdy enough looking from the comfort of the city streets, being on them whilst the wind whipped by and the iron creaked was a different matter. The girl seemed to notice my hesitance, and assured us that it was entirely safe.

We made it across without incident, and boarded the gently swaying monster, which had the name ZS Nordernstal emblazoned in angular script along its flank, along with a number that Gunter informed me was the 'registration code', which had seemed slightly ridiculous at the time. As if there could ever be enough of these giants that you would need a number to keep track of them.

We were greeted in the main gondola by Kapitan Sterne, the master of the Nordernstal for its journey across Lydia. Apparently a route that had only been pioneered less than a year prior. A hurried looking crewman, wearing a sailor-esque, showed us to our cabins. Now acquainted with the quarters I would be occupying for the next week, I bid Gunter a good evening and retired, deciding that now was time for a well earned rest in something that at least passed for a proper bed.


My first experience with flight was somewhat disconcerting,

I had awoken to find the whole room gently moving around. Everything was swaying, like being on a ship at sea, which was bad enough, but somehow not just side to side, but independently up and down without actually tilting. And then there was the constant droning and occasional shudder of the engines, it was nearly enough to drive a man mad.

I stumbled out of my cabin and collared a stewardess in the gangway, whereupon I discovered that we had already cast off, and had traversed the length of the Kogeln mountains, crossing into Kyburg lands during the night. The woman begged an excuse, apparently other passengers needed attending to, and left me clutching the wall for support, with the advice that looking outside would help calm my discomfort.

Having managed to dress myself without incident, I made way to the lounge, and was greeted with what I must admit was a spectacular sight. Banks of fluffy clouds were drifting below us, through which a landscape of farmland and small villages could be made out, all looking so small that they could be painted on some incredibly detailed map. I stood there gawping at the sight longer than I care to remember.

"Beautiful isn't it?" A melodious female voice sounded to my right.

I turned, and it was revealed to belong to a petite Akitsunkunese girl who looked to be in her late teens or early twenties. I am something of connoisseur of the female form, with taste gained from laborious experience in the carnal arts, and I must say that this girl was perhaps one of the most incredibly alluring specimens I had even seen. She had full figured curves that filled out the flowing indigo floral patterned dress in just the right ways. I was instantly attentive.

"On the journey from the home islands I just sat for hours watching the land pass beneath us. Thinking If the god's look down upon us from heaven, surely this is how they see us." She murmured, appreciating the same view that I was.

"Would be dashed hard to see anyone from up here." I replied, looking her in the eye. "Maybe they don't even know we are there. That would explain a great deal."

She laughed. It was a bright, clear sound that was totally entrancing to the ears. I was absolutely smitten.

"Akibara Sukiyo" She said, making a small bow.

"Eh?" I replied, non-plussed for a moment.

"My name." She said, a hint of irritation pulled at the corner of her perfect almond shaped eyes, and then she smirked. "You are a cynic then sir?"

"Ah, I uh prefer to think of myself as realist. A soldier like myself has not much use for gods and dreams Im afraid." I replied affecting my usual bluff demeanor.

"A soldier? I should have recognized that upright bearing" She moved closer, and I could feel her eyes crawl over every inch of me. "... and such an appropriately martial physique."

Well you should know me by now, I took no small amount of pride in the tall, barrel chested stature that I had been fortunate enough to inherit from my father. But hearing admiration for it from the fairer sex was always a welcome boost to the ego.

I flashed her a winning smile.

"You must forgive me miss for not introducing myself, I was so struck by your beauty I have quite forgotten my manners. Captain Robert Redhart of the Albian Army, at your service." I said laying on the charm thick.

She gasped and held a hand her delicate looking lips.

"I know this name! Are you not the famed Captain Redhart who was decorated for his service on the Ganjic Frontier?" I nodded with as much false humility as I could muster.

"Why you were the subject of much admiration amongst my roommates, little Clarabelle even had a print of you in full uniform hung next to her bed. She was quite infatuated with you." She lowered her voice slightly. And looked at me directly with warm brown eyes. "Many of the girls were."
"The girls?" I queried.

"Oh yes, the whole school practically. Even some of the teachers."

"You attend school in Albia then?" Always good start to get them talking about themselves. Makes them feel valued you see.

"Well not anymore. I graduated St.Penelope's two years ago, now I'm reading engineering and mathematics at Falcross. Father was determined that I get a good western education, a bit scandalous for the rest of the family, but it is the way the world must look now is it not?"

I nodded along sagely, and she continued.

"I've spent the last three years in Albia. I've only managed to go back and forth home recently because this wonderful vessel makes it so convenient."

I raised my eyebrow at this.

"Must be dashed expensive. Going back and forth so." I actually had no idea how much the Zeppelin cost, but it stood to reason that it would more than any 'average person' could afford.

She laughed in reply.

"I am an Akibara, and Akibara Complex is Akitsukuni. I assure you Captain, money is no object." She leaned in and spoke further in a hushed tone. "I have the stateroom. All to myself."

Well she was a saucey one and no mistake. All warmed up and cleared of action. Still it doesn't do to rush into things, and I decided to feel about first for potential hazards.

"Your parents must be very modern to let a young woman such as yourself travel without chaperone."

Her eyes narrowed knowingly.

"Oh father can be as traditionalist as the next man when the mood takes him. My manservant, a loyal family retainer, has been my constant guardian. But poor Nobu does not have much have head for flying, and has been confined to his separate cabin with a terrible nausea." I could sympathize there. "Alas, I have found myself in need of new companion to keep me amused during our journey."

Okay then. I certainly don't need to be asked twice. Tally ho.

"Well then Miss Akibara, would you do me the honour of joining me in breakfast." I held out my arm like a gallant Hussar of old.
She took it without hesitation.

"Oh Captain Redhart. I accept. And do call me Sukiyo, if of course I may call you Robert."

I don't know if it was looking out the windows that had the desired effect which the stewardess described, or it was being in such pleasant company, but as I talked Sukiyo in that lounge above the clouds, I did indeed begin to feel much better, and the constant motion of our vessel was no longer as discomforting. Once we retired to her well appointed state room at the rear of passenger cabins, all pains and ills were soon swept away entirely.

She was a randy little minx, and we set forth at each other as soon as the doors closed. Though I tell you, if I had known then what terrifying peril would result from our coupling, I would have turned on my heel and bid the little tart good day.



[1] Willem Schiele is the renowned Vostrian Author-Adventurer, whom Redhart encountered during the events of Redhart's Revenge. It is contended by some scholars of the Redhart Journals that the character of Hauptman Rottlanger is based upon Redhart himself. These claims are strenously denied by the Schiele estate.

[2] Zeppelinstadt, the personal holding of Count von Zeppelin, and location of the famous Zeppelinwerke. In those days it was also the centre of the Count's burgeoning airliner service. Though the bulk of those operations would soon move to the more centrally located Airship Harbour at Albrechtburg.

[3] The coronation of Kyburg Emperor Klaus V, the subsequent assassination attempts, and our protagonist's role in these events are detailed in Redhart Gone Rogue.

 

[Ato]

Redhart Takes Flight

-3
We spent much of the following journey going at it like rabbits in Sukyio's stateroom. Pausing only, when drained from our exertions, to emerge for sustenance from the Zeppelin's dining room.

I will not be so bold as to say that we were the first to indulge in such high altitude carnality, the Dyskche for all their dour outward prudishness are invariably randy buggers behind closed doors and without doubt some coupling pair were at in the first gas burner balloons, but we certainly set some records during that trip.
I have had some fine backdrops for fornication during my career, from the sun setting like a burning eye over the ruins of Ushkal, to the almost blindingly garish golden bedding chamber of the Kyburg Emperors, and of course the song filled gardens in the Blossom Temple of Bai Se Shang[1], each an almost incomparable highlight. But reaching climax embraced with Sukiyo's soft, supple body, whilst the towering peak of Mount Ingram floated past amid a sea of white clouds… Well at the time it was enough to make a man feel like he might be a god.

It was during of the brief interludes in copulation, I remember it clearly as being just after the little minx has introduced me to a most interesting position, that we lay together in the cool blue silk sheets of the massive bed vasking in our combined glow, and marinating in the intermingled musk of our bodies. Sukiyo nestled against my side, one arm draped possessively over my chest and face nuzzling into my neck, finally sated after a marathon session of near insatiability. This pleasant seclusion was brutally interrupted by a terse knock on the door. Instantly I was alert, my body tensing as all lethargy evaporated. Fearing the imminent intrusion of an irate chaperon, come to carve me up for defiling an industrial heiress, I desperately scanned the room with the practiced eye of an experienced poltroon looking for an escape route.
It was just as I was considering whether it would preferable to risk death in the frigid outside air and clamber out a window onto the external riggining, or to die by disembowelment delivered by one of those wickedly sharp Lydian swords, that Sukiyo stirred at my side.

"Yes?" She called out languidly, her voice slurred from post-coital torpor.

"Apologies for any interruption ma'am." The voice answered in polite Dyskche accented Albian. "The Captain has extended an invitation for all passengers to a banquet in honour of our arrival in Cham tomorrow."

Feeling somewhat drained of my vital energies I found myself in the mood for some tucker, and said as much once the crewman had left, Sukiyo was less enthusiastic.

"Can we not stay here my love?" She purred into my chest.

"I'm afraid I am spent dear." I replied in Akitsukuni. I have always found that the best way to learn a tongue was practical use of the organ, and Sukiyo had given me a great deal of practice indeed. "Without some food I will be quite useless to you."

"I cannot bear to look upon any other man but my noble warrior. Please Robi," She had taken to calling me that as a pet name quite quickly, something about the way she said it made my spine tingle "Stay here and pleasure me again. I need it." She begged looking up at me, pleading with those wide almond shaped eyes.

Hearing the wanton need in her voice gave me half a mind to acquiesce, but a growl in my stomach made the final decision. With teasing and flattery I got her to agree to come to the dinner. We briefly parting so that I could refresh myself in the facilities back in my own cabin, and dress appropriately for the occasion.
I wore my own full dress duds, complete with red sash and heavy with gold braid, and my full rack of medals pinned to the dark green jacket. A great many chaps didn't make the effort even then, preferring the much simpler -and cheaper- mess dress at any social functions where the full rig wasn't demanded. In my opinion it's nothing but damn laziness, and whilst I can hardly claim to a paragon of diligence I have always held that the full dress couldn't be beaten when it came to be making an impression on the starry-eyed civilian types. I have often made a point of wearing my old regimental togs even after they changed the regulations to mess dress only in '21, apparently to make it easier for all the new officers from more 'modest' backgrounds. Penny pinching claptrap in my opinion.

By the time I entered the dining lounge it was already filled, a couple of dozen passengers sat around tables chatting away in small talk, and sipping from tall fluted glasses. It was a fair motley set, of the type that abounded in air-travel even during those early days. Amongst them was the usual collection of Europan businessmen, a Dyskche district officer travelling out to his station, a Ganjayan Prince and entourage, a Kievan diplomat, two Cathayan in western clothing and of course my delicious Sukiyo.
She wore a mesmerizing dress of shimmering pink silk that hugged her every curve and was slit high on the leg to her upper thigh. It was a highly distracting silhouette, and I must have stood there for over a minute just staring at her, my mouth open and a reinvigorated lust stirring in my loins, my eyes transfixed, unable to stop following those tight swooping lines from head to toe.

When I finally came round she had crossed the room to join me.

"Captain Redhart. A pleasure to met you again." She purred.

I was about to question the oddly formal way she spoke, when not a hour ago we had been entwined with nothing to seperate us but skin and sweat, when a looming shadow fell across me.

I craned my head upwards to get a better view at the body that had eclipsed the light from the nearby fixture, and was rewarded with the sight of the largest Aki man I had seen then or since, a veritable mountain of muscle that seemed to tower even over my stature, and appeared to be at least half as broad.

"May introduce Okimoto Nobu, a loyal retainer of House Akibara, and my manservant." He was draped in a plain dark blue robe of the type the Aki's frequently wear, a bulge or two at the waist suggested that he had a knife or two on his person. That or a brace of Dyskche sausages for when all that bulk needed feeding.
Two beady eyes peered out at me with guarded suspicion from beneath bushy eyebrows, on an otherwise completely bald head. Caught a bit left-footed, I awkwardly extended a hand in greeting.

"Glad to meet you old chap." I said putting on as much buff cheer as I could manage.The giant merely grunted in reply and his massive hands, which looks more comfortable crushing the skulls of cattle that giving a gentlemanly greeting remained locked to his sides. I fell back on a curt nod.

I threw a questioning glance at Sukiyo before continuing. "I heard from Miss Akibara that you were feeling unwell. I do hope you have recovered."

Her eyes flashed with irritation, and she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

"Dear Nobu finds that air travel does not suit him, but he seems to have recovered. Fortunately just in time for the Captain's banquet." A tiny scowl curled in the corner of her lips, but she did not let it colour her voice.

"Well that is just Grand, I am glad you feel better." I said, feeling decidedly less so. Pater Akibara could not have picked a more fearsome looking guardian for his daughter, a beast that would have made any of the ancient Elladic heros think twice. Should he discover my activities of the past my few days, I did not rate my chances if it came to violence.

"I would consider myself most fortunate if you would join us for dinner Captain." At that moment I wanted nothing less, and to be as far from the vice like paws of her manservant as possible.

The beast's glare continued to bore into my skull, his thick fingers twitched, as if grasping something, and for a moment I was certain that he was imagining wringing my neck like a chicken. I tensed, looking for somewhere, anywhere to which I could escape.

Sukiyo smiled brightly at me. I swallowed, there was nowhere to run. I managed to force a pleasant smile onto my face and replied.

"I would be delighted Miss Akibara."

She paused and then looked up to the hulking titan at her shoulder, before speaking in Aki. "It is hot, and I have forgotten my fan. Please retrieve it from my cabin, whilst we are seated."

He did not move, instead staring hard at me. It took all of my nonexistent fortitude to suppress my natural instincts to run and cower like a rabbit confronted by a wolf. But I knew that should I display any hint of fear that this hulking cerberus would pounce on me before I could take even a step.

"Now Nobu." Sukiyo commanded, using a tone of voice that those born into wealth and power learn at a early age.

The manservant hesitated, before grunting out a reply. "At once mistress." He then shuffled off, though not before giving me one last glare from beneath his heavy brow. When the coast looked clear I offered my arm, and escorted Sukiyo to a nearby table.

"I am sorry Robert." She whispered into my ear as we sat. "He is usually sick the entire journey. I don't what has got him up. Probably the promise of food, the greedy oaf." She looked me in the eye, and i'll be damned but I swear if there wasn't a spark of excitement in the tart's eyes."I could see how you looked at him, all tensed and… ready for action. Please be careful."

I started to bluster out something about not being afraid, but she interrupted me

"Oh I've no doubt you could best him, and you looked itching to. But I've known Nobu almost all my life, and he's little more than an overgrown puppy really. A very greedy, lazy puppy." That I doubted. "The real problem is that he reports on me to my father. I'm afraid we will have to be more discrete, if my family were to find out…" She trailed off and fidgeted with the tablecloth, looking downcast.

I can't say I was pleased at the prospect of losing my bed warmer for the rest of the journey, but it was certainly better than being twisted into a Burgundian pastry by an angry Akitsukuni bear pretending to be a man. I was still thinking of something soothing and commistory to say when she sharply looked up at me with glistening eyes.

"I won't let them come between us my love. There must be some way. Maybe we could-"

"Hello Bobby!" A cheerful Dyskche accented voice interrupted Sukiyo's hushed whispering. I looked around to see Gunter ambling towards us. "A long time without seeing huh? The stewards said you have been hidden away in your cabin near the entire journey, perhaps with.. What is the word? ah yes 'air-sickness." He said this with a click of his fingers, as if excited with his own clever use of words.

"But now I pleased to see that you are no worse for wear, and in the company of such a beautiful lady. Please you must introduce me."

Gladly I slipped into the role of convivial companion and rose.

"Of course. Miss Akibara may I introduce Gunter Strauss. Gunter, this is Akibara Sukiyo."

"Akibara? My bobby do you not find the most interesting of companions? It is delightful to meet you Akibara-san." He said with, and performed a short bow in the Lydian fashion.

"Likewise Mister Strauss." Replied Sukiyo, who had seemed to instantly regain perfect composure.

"I have heard that Akibara Combine is the most powerful company in the Empire. I am travelling to Tokei to investigate business ventures for my own family industry. Perhaps that goal will bring me meetings with others of your family."

Sukiyo and Gunter began to chat amiably about shared experiences of being industrial scions.
I kept a half interested ear open, only participating enough to make it look like I was paying attention.Whilst in truth I was on the lookout for the mountainous Nobu returning. I had no wish to be caught unawares and garrotted to death from behind like the unwitting victim of some Ganjayan thuggee [1]. I barely even registered when our table was joined by two newcomers, who introduced themselves as Alleghanian business partners on a world tour. Their names and faces were so forgettable then, that o recall them now so many years later would be so futile an endeavour that I haven't even tried. I mustered up the bare minimum of politeness for introductions, and then soon forgot about them as the entered into some particularly tiresome small talk. It was just so that I did not notice when Gunter steered the conversation onto talk of aircraft.

"It was an Akitsukuni plane that won that race over the channel was it not? Was that an Akibara design?"

A flash of irritation marred Sukiyo's face for a moment.

"Ah no. That machine came from a smaller design house. Called 'Otaki', or something like that. A tiny company, nothing compared to our own operation really."

Gunter took this opportunity to press for information about Akibara's aircraft division. Sukiyo humoured him initially, but seemed to quickly grow bored, and began to lean closer to me, and giving non-committal answers. It was precisely at this moment, as Sukiyo was partially rubbing herself against my shoulder, that Nobu returned.

I nearly jumped up out of my skin when he appeared looming over me again. "Your fan mistress."

Sukiyo accepted it and flicked it open, giving herself a few perfunctory wafts from the flower patterned item. Nobu meanwhile took a chair to his charge's left, sitting down heavily, and proceeded to glower at the rest of the table in sullen silence.
The look he gave me however still chills me when I think about it now. It seemed to penetrate right into my skull and out the other side of me. Had I been anywhere else, on land or even a ship in the middle of the ocean, I would have found someway to flee there and then.
As it was I was stuck, but I knew one fact with absolute conviction.

He knew.

The rest of dinner miraculously passed without my demise by strangulation, or the loss of any limbs whatsoever. So in any case I marked myself lucky. Not that Sukiyo had made that taks easy, whenever she bored of the current topic of conversation, the lusty wench's hand invariably began drifting to my thigh or she would start stroking my leg with her foot. I was certain that this behaviour did not go unnoticed by her voluminous shadow, who elicited a deep rumbling growl with each display.
Only the mind altering periods spent in the company of the Ixchel-Maria [3] surpassed this in length for the time in which I have gone so long on the precipice of bowel loosening terror, without allowing myself to roll onto the floor in a blubbering mass.
To say I was relieved that when, after desert, Sukityo announced her intention to retire, and rose to leave, is an understatement of truly gross proportions. Though this was not done before throwing me one last longing glance. Nevertheless she left, and the tame gorilla of a manservant tramped off in tow. I was just contemplating if it would be possible to stay in my cabin for the rest of the journey when Gunter clapped me on the back with a jovial laugh.

"My you have been busy Bobby." I snapped out a of my fugue with a squeak, that I barely managed to transition into a more manly cough. "There I was feeling sorry for you all week, when you have been having your way with the most eligible heiress in Akitsukuni. You sly devil!"

I managed to recover and launched into the usual routine of pretending not to kiss and tell, whilst dropping all sort of hints accompanied by appropriately timed saucy winks. This seemed to amuse old Gunter to no end, and we got into talking of past conquests over a bottle of brandy. Our bawdy topic of conversation seemed to offend the two remaining dinner guests at the table, who chose that point to retire as well. Which I felt all the better, they seemed the direly prudish and religious sort that often venture out of the old colonies to gaze disapprovingly at the rest of us.

With such good companionship I slowly I began to forget the abject terror of the past couple of hours, and began to think that perhaps I had been over reacting. Three bottles of the finest vintage alter I shuffled my way out of the dining lunge, and back to my cabin, humming the tune of a dirty song I had learned during my stay in a Anatolian cathouse [4].
A more prideful man would no doubt attribute the ambush to his intoxication, and whilst that certainly played some part, in reality it was utter foolishness on my part. I had allowed myself to ignore my own finely tuned sense of danger.

As I ambled past the open door of the passenger washroom an arm shot out and grasped me by the shoulder, catching me in the exact moment in my stride to pull my off balance, and bring me tumbling into the darkened chamber. Before I knew what was happening the door was pulled shut and the latch clicked into place. The fog in my mind cleared enough for me to start trying to plead for mercy. But the drink turned my words into an incomprehensible babble. In any case no sooner had I started then a set of soft lips clamped themselves over my own and drew my down into a passionate kiss.
Somewhat wrong footed by this sharp turn in events, I felt around in an exploratory fashion, and found not the muscled bulk of a bald bear that I had expected, but the silk clad curves of a feminine form. Using my finely tuned sense of touch I grasped the buttocks of my amorous assaillant, and was able to ascertain that it was in fact Sukiyo.

After a moment I broke the kiss, half gasping for air, half indignant with embarrassment.

"God be good girl, you gave me a fright." I slurred out.

She only laughed, with that same disarmingly light tone, and held me between my legs. Well old Robby don't need much more encouragement than that, and judging the environment to be mostly secure, I plowed forward on the course the girl had set us on.

Some time later, having divest ourselves of our clothes, and our energies now spent, I held her to my chest and pressed up against the hardwood shower screen. Feeling both very much recovered from the earlier ordeals of the day. Which is of course when Sukiyo decided to speak.

"I love you Robert." She whispered it breathily into my ear. Her voice filled with warm contentment.

Now those four words might seem innocuous enough after a bought of passionate exercise, such as we had just undertaken. But any experienced rake will take them for the glaring warning sign, that a girl has gone all mooney. At risk at the best of times, but with those words a near certainty that she has transitioned from looking at a chap as an object of lust, to a prize that can be bound with chains of matrimony.
Which is not to say I am any fierce opponent of the institution of marriage. Having been wed many times [5], I can say there is definitely much worth to the institution.
However when hinted at by a lass you have hither too only considered as a enjoyable travel romp, it should set the alarm bells ringing for any fellow. I am ashamed to say in that moment I did not think anything of it. I would like to blame the drink, or the afterglow of pleasure that dulled my mind then, but truly I think it was merely the feeling of being held after being so terrified earlier that allowed me to overlook this dire portent.

After that session in the washroom we had sex only one more time before reaching Tokei, again within the darkened confines of a locked room, away from her watchful sentinel of a manservant. Who had taken to patrolling up and down the corridor outside her stateroom following the dinner, preventing Sukiyo from slipping out until other than the few times he was in his own cabin. Truth be told I was not much aggrieved by this. As much as I enjoyed our rigorous rutting, I was beginning to tire of her as any true connoisseur I could not be satisfied with only one variety, and found myself looking forward to sampling the wares of the Akitsukuni capital. Instead I spent the last few days either drinking with Gunter in the lounge, or else getting so bored, that I was actually reduced to flipping through the notes that Colonel Harper had sent along with me. A packet that until this point had been providing admirable service as a way of keeping my shirts flat in the suitcase.

Tokei was a surprise. Though we had heard in those days how Akitsukuni was a rapidly developing nation, the popular conception of any Lydian city was hard to shake. I had expected the usual clusters of hovels ancient wooden building around a walled citadel and some kind of palace, of the kind that can be found across the continent from Mahtara to Joseon. While it is true the Aki capital had all of those things, it also had much more.
As the zeppelin decenceded I caught a glimpse, having been in the lounge nursing a half glass of whisky at the time, of a great collection of factories busy belching smoke into the air. Beyond them stretched neat and orderly rows of houses for workers, at the docks many large and modern ships lined up to be unloaded in the harbour. As we swung lower, I saw that the bustling streets at the centre had a great many stone worked building of sizes and styles that would not have looked out of place in any Europan city. It was no Artemis or Lutetia to be sure, be certainly rivalved any other great industrial city in Albia like Persephone, or Selene.

Our arrival was somewhat less developed that the environs from which we had departed a week before, a mere grass field on the outskirts[6] instead of the developed sky port of Zeppelinstadt. It seemed to have been kept clear by a herd of cattle that was now penned up in a an enclosure to one side. We decancted ourselves from the great grey behemoth by means of some specially erected gantries, and once on the ground began the process of accosting one of the native porters to have our luggage delivered to the correct destinations.

Gunter cheerfully bid me farewell and gave me a note detailing the address of his hotel. He exhorted me to look him up once I had got properly settled in. With that he flagged down one of the waiting bicycle powered taxis and trundled away into the busy streets. I had noticed in my travel notes that some sort of reception party was supposed to convey me to the embassy, but no such group was in appearance.
Deciding I didn't want to wait around on the whims of whatever kind of fools the foreign office put on far east postings in those days I took matters into my own hands. Using my now well practiced Aki patter I had no trouble rustling up some idle hands to manhandle my suitcases onto a waiting rickshaw.

While waiting for that work to be complete Sukiyo made her own departure, during which she gave me a very formal goodbye, as Nobu watched with his typical glower. Which I felt to be all correct, having a good clean break was welcome end to any brief fling. This was somewhat spoiled when as the oxen-in-man-shape hauled Sukiyo's many travel cases into a waiting transport, a rather nice looking motor-limousine I noted, she took the opportunity to whisper in my ear.

"Don't worry my love, I won't let them keep us apart. I will send word. Wait for me." After which, and without giving me opportunity to let her down gently she stole a kiss form my lips and practically skipped off to the car, where a bored looking driver stood savouring a cigarette.

I stood there for a moment working though what she had just said, before shaking my head and chuckling. I believe I said words to myself amounting to "Not likely darling." And resolved on the spot not to see her ever again.

Finally the rickshaw driver was satisfied with the loading of his contraption and we set off, at a sedate pace though the streets of Tokei. Which I must say from all it's appearance of modernity from a distance, up close still clearly displayed it's more humble beginnings. Suffice to say it was not a quick journey, and halfway through I was damning the useless embassy staff for their idleness, the rickshaw peddler for his total incomprehension of the concept of speed, and the whole city for it's smell. After winding through the usual herds of dopey livestock, seemingly oblivious crowds of locals out shopping, and a surprising number of motor cars we eventually reached the embassy.

I payed the driver from the bundle of local notes that I had picked up back in Dyskelande, and left my travel gear with the building's bewildered looking porter. By now in a pretty foul mood, stomping through the main entrance I barked out my name to the front desk secretary, who practically squeaked in terror, and demanded to know where my welcoming committee was.
The lad gibbered some meaningless apologies, about how he hadn't been told to expect anyone and then maddeningly asked who exactly I was again?

Now red faced and fuming, I unloaded both barrels right at him.

"I'm the goddamned new Military attache! I have just spent a week travelling across the world, to get here! And you will get someone who has some answers out here!"

A look of confusion crossed his face.

"But.. I-" He blubbered.

"NOW!" I roared, cutting him off.

The boy practically cringed in the face of this assault, begging my forgiveness, and picked up a phone on his desk to dial one of the extensions. Nearly in tears he mumbled something down the line. Before setting it down and telling me that someone was on their way.

I stood waiting in the atrium for a few minutes, stewing up my thunder to give wahtever poor sap that appeared a good dressing down, whilst the secretary cowered away from me in fear. I was about to round on him again when I heard the precise tap tap of military issue heels on a wooden floor.

I turned a was met with the sight of a fairly plain looking young woman in Albian navy uniform. She stopped and placed her hand on her hips, regarding me with a hard, questioning eye, before speaking in a terse voice.

"Lieutenant Daphne Lovett, Union Navy and Albian military attache to the Empire of Akitsukuni. Can I help you sir?"


[1] This references one of Redhart's later adventures during the Cathayan civil war, which are detailed within the pages of Redhart's Riposte.
[2] This is ironic given Redhart's later encounter with neo-thuggee cultists during the events of Redhart the Raja.
[3] The Ixchel-Maria was the 'rogue' Taxcocoan General turned cult leader that Redhart was held captive by for two months in the course of his second visit to the Empire of the Moon Jaguar that he recounts in the Blood of the Redhart journal.
[4] See Redhart and the Sultan
[5] Counting his official biography and the contents of all the discovered journals, Redhart was married eight times.
[6] As a matter of fact this early Zeppelin landing field would later become the location of Tokei international airport.