150 Years Ago

[jwhouk]

---

When he came to, 'Tanner' found himself in the ship's infirmary. He was startled awake – that nurse was the one who'd outed him! He tried to move – and discovered that he was chained down to the bed.

Or, more correctly, he was in traction. They had his arms and legs connected to a series of pulleys – and his legs in a plaster cast, along with his arms.

"Oh, good, you're awake," came a voice. He tried to turn his head; he realized that his head was wrapped with a bandage – enough to keep his mouth shut. The traction bed limited his sight range, as he could only move his head slightly to the right.

What he saw was the Nurse – still in her white uniform, but without her cap. Her long auburn tresses were hanging down, framing her face.

"After the little stampede by Mr. Alexander's boys, we were afraid you were a goner." She reached over to check on something, then put the back of her hand on his forehead. "The witnesses said it looked like you were going to jump over the side. Mr. Dodson pulled you back in, but in his haste he accidentally dropped you on the floor."

He tried to say something, but the bandage around his mouth wouldn't allow him to speak.

"Oh, hush, darlin'," she said with a pat on his head. "We had to wire your jaw shut after your face met the door on your way in here." She pulled out some contraption from a tray that he didn't realize was on his midsection.

She pulled it up, tapped on the side, and pressed down on a plunger…

…Oh no, a hypodermic needle…

"Rest easy – Reb," she smiled.

Her fangs were the last thing he remembered seeing before he felt the injection – and his world went to black again.

[Hansontoons]

... stuff ...

See, Joe? Here's proof of another reader, for you!

Me too!

Ripping good yarn!

[Sgt. Howard]

Something completely different, continued...

Seven Teens, led by the oldest, edged their way nervously into the further corners of the Library. Working up her courage, the tall, busty blond knocked on the great oaken door labeled, "Head Librarian". It opened slowly to reveal a large Sphinx with short auburn hair and square pinz-nez glasses.
"Atsali! And you have your friends with you! Please be quiet, the little one is down for her nap... what can I do for you?"
"Well... we would like to talk with Uncle Neil, if that's OK,"
"Hmmmm... follow me," she said with a slight grin as she led them to a door in the back. There sat the fellow in question, busy writing his memoirs.
"Ummm... Uncle Neil? Uh... I have a history assignment and I'm not supposed to use internet research... in fact, none of us are... and I was wondering..."
Neil turned around and looked at the gaggle of giggles that surrounded the busty bubble-gummer- "Atsali! Heh- I've told you that 'Neil' is adequate... after all, I still have wisdom teeth that haven't erupted yet... so, who are your friends?" he asked as he turned from his desk. They were in his study, surrounded by books and artifacts collected over the years.
"Well, (giggle) this is Nadette... I think you've met her... and her sister Berdine... and these are my friends Devyn, Abbie, Alexis and Mallory,"
"My pleasure, Ladies... now, pray tell, what history are we talking about?"
"Well," Atsali started, "We are on the Civil War now... the American Civil War... and I remember you talking about it ..."
Neil took a deep breath with his eyes closed. When he opened his eyes, he saw seven pair of worried eyes looking at him.
"No war is pleasant... but THAT one was just plain filthy. Not one aspect of it that did not reek of corruption or stupidity insofar as to WHY it happened, and some of the most idiotic field leadership ever inflicted on a standing army. I wish there were more like me who were there- but all of those not taken by disease or lead have succumbed to time itself, leaving me to tell the story- very well, where can we start?"
Mallory saw an encased object on a pedestal- it looked like a pile of black coins... she reached out to touch the case when Neil noticed her actions-
"STOP!!! DON'T TOUCH THAT GLASS!!!" he barked. Mallory immediately retracted her hand.
All the girls were now looking at the case- Atsali asked, "Why? What's in there?"
"Thirty pieces of silver that you do NOT want to touch... OK, let's establish some ground rules here- you can sit on the furniture, but do not touch any display... some of these things are dangerous and were acquired at great risk. Be careful when looking at some of the portraits, do not stare at them too long. I'll get refreshments, as I think the lot of you are too young to be indulging in Cognac,"
As he spoke, Phix arrived in human form with a pitcher of lemonade, several glasses and a tray of baked dainties- "Always one step ahead of me, as usual," Neil spoke in appreciation of his wife. There was some eye language between the two before she left.
Neil sat mesmerized for only a moment- the he asked, "Oh! Right! What did you want to know?"
"I remember you mentioned that you got wounded in Gettysburg- can you tell us about that?"
"Heh... yes, I remember it well..."

[lake_wrangler]

... stuff ...

See, Joe? Here's proof of another reader, for you!

Me too!

Well, we already knew you had read some, a while back, seeing as you had posted on the second or third page of this thread. This post, however does confirm your continued readership, I guess.

Ripping good yarn!

That, it certainly is!

[lake_wrangler]

"STOP!!! DON'T TOUCH THAT GLASS!!!" he barked. Mallory immediately retracted her hand.
All the girls were now looking at the case- Atsali asked, "Why? What's in there?"
"Thirty pieces of silver that you do NOT want to touch...

Hmm... I wonder what those could be...

Once again, you demonstrate your ability to mix and match Wapsiverse, Extended Wapsiverse, and Historical into one intricate, well crafted, internally consistent story. Bravo!

[Julie]

When one entertains, either by stage, screen or written work, there is the craving for feedback. I know that it sounds rather petty, especially when in the written form traditionally one does not hear about one's work for weeks or months after publishing... but that does not alter the fact that I am an applause junkie. I suspect Joe is no different.

I promise I'm still reading! And I'm still loving every bit that you two write. I just haven't been posting because I haven't had anything to say...no reaction beyond stunned and eager silence as you write and share each new segment of story. Plus I'm out of state at the moment, so I had a lot of catching up to do...but I promise to post more often letting you know how much I'm enjoying this!!!

[jwhouk]

WARNING: POST-GASM in progress...
---

The boat was scoured by the men from the Indiana 12th and Alexander's own men. They had just finished searching the main deck when the call had come from the Promenade deck that someone had tried leaping over the balcony rail.

Nurse McBride positively confirmed that the man was the spy, whispering something to Ebbie to convince him of the man's guilt. As he was apparently injured, it was decided that he would be confined to the infirmary, with a soldier and a Pinkerton agent from Huntington providing security.

Things were secured to Billens' liking – though he insisted that the password system remain in place until their arrival in Parkersburg.

"Now, as to the evening watch," Billens began. His words were drowned out by a low groan, then a grunt. A moment later, Dashnois was standing in the doorway between the two suites.

"Hand's feelin' better, suh," he announced, his hair slightly disheveled. "But I really need to use the bivy…"

Billens was a bit surprised at Dashnois' appearance – but only a bit.

"Granted," he said. "Hatch, why don't you escort the private to the closet, so he doesn't get disoriented and try to feed the fish?"

This got a chuckle out of everyone in the room – except for Dashnois.

Hatch guided the Belgian to the door, trying not to break out into laughter.

Once out of earshot, Billens continued on: "Despite Mr. Younger's assistance with the sabotage efforts, he is still considered to be a prisoner of war and a traitor to the United States of America. Until such time as his case can be reviewed – most likely in DC, I would reckon – we must still keep watch on him. And, Mr. Younger," he raised his eyebrow at Cornelius, "we still must keep you bound and watched – if only for your own protection."

"I find that a bit hard to believe, Marshall suh," Cornelius replied.

"Not just from other Rebel spies who'd wish you harm," Billens raised his hand in making the point. "But, to keep you from taking things into your own hands."

"I'm in not much shape to do anything like such." He made a face, then looked away.

"Regardless," Billens continued. "Mr. Watts, you will stay up with myself and Mister Hough. Corporal, when Mr. Hatch returns, you will join him and Mr. Dashnois in standing down until midnight. At that time, perhaps our friend from Green Bay will be able to at least keep watch with us instead of being a bump on a log."

Hatch returned shortly with Dashnois – who was groggy, but agreed to the sleep provision. "I'm workin' on getting' up on mah own, suhs," he pled to Austin and Billens before going back into the sleeping chamber of the suite. Austin shook his head as he joined them.

Billens then made an odd move – he shut the connecting door of the suite. "Mister Hough, if you'd be so kind as to fetch a fresh urn of coffee from one of the porters? I have something to discuss with Mister Watts." Hough nodded, though he found this a bit odd. He quickly exited the suite to head down to the kitchen.

Billens then quietly rose, pulled the chair that Hough had just vacated over by Cornelius' bunk, and sat.

"Centurion," he stated plainly, "would you care to explain to me and Mr. Watts about why you went against the edict of Theodosius and fought to keep the Library of Alexandria from being destroyed?"

This took Cornelius by surprise. "I don't know what you're…"

Billens yanked the chain that was connecting Cornelius to the center post, pulling him forcibly to the floor.

"You most certainly do, Centurion," he said. "You and those Hebrew friends of yours tried to block the soldiers from advancing. And I had to cart you off to Rome because you 'appealed to Caesar'." He roughly picked him back up and put him back on the bunk.

A head peeked in from the other room. "Uh, beggin' your pardon, suh, but is everything all right?" Austin had a note of concern on his face. "We heard some bumps…"

"Just the prisoner having some issues, Corporal. Get off to bed." Austin considered for a moment, then retreated and shut the door.

"She was in there," Cornelius said.

"What?"

"My…" He looked at Watts for a moment. "My wife. I'd fallen in love with the head librarian." A tear started to roll down his cheek. "And they were going to go in there and burn it to the damn ground, because they thought it was a pagan temple." He looked at Billens. "She was nothin' like that. Hell, she refused to kill, even though her type did it routinely…"

"Phix," Watts stated plainly. Cornelius only nodded.

"The last I saw of her, she had dashed back into the Library to try to save some scrolls. The flames rose, and I never saw her again." He turned and looked at Billens. "I was captured as soon as I got out. Even though I did appeal to Caesar, I was a hot mess when I got on the boat to Rome."

"It appears that you have remarkable healing powers, from the looks of it," Billens replied.

"If'n I may be frank, suh – so do you." He made a gesture with his hand in the general direction of Billens' face – as much as his hand could be raised from his bondage. "The mark that Dashing one made on your face this mornin' seems to have healed nicely. Think most of the other boys in Oscar's detail would be sportin' a shiner if'n that'd happen t' them."

Watts noticed it immediately. Billens' face was as clear as it was when they got on the ship in Louisville.

"So," Cornelius asked, "If I'm immortal, what'n world does that make you?"

"The son of an overzealous Macedonian mother," he replied with narrowed eyes.

There was a knock on the door. "Badger with coffee!"

"Mushroom," Billens replied. "Come in." Hough had a small pot of coffee in his hand.

"Porter said it was the last of the batch they had, so their 'pologies if'n it's a bit weak," he explained as he set it down on the side table.

"It'll do, for the time being" Billens stated. Cornelius and Oscar only exchanged glances at each other.

[jwhouk]

---

The night went on quietly. There were sounds coming from the Huntington docks of the 12th Indiana doing their rounds of the yards, and the occasional patrol walking past on the gangway outside the suite.

Cornelius had finally decided he was going to sleep. He pulled up the blanket around him so that his chain was the only thing sticking out.

Hough had sipped on some of the coffee, but found it a bit too flavorless to his liking. After a while, he realized he needed to use the bivy. Billens excused him, leaving the cabin empty – save for Oscar and he.

"Achilles," Watts said after Hough's footsteps had faded. "You're Achilles, the Greek warrior."

Billens sniffed a moment. "That's what the legends would have you believe, private." He took a sip of his coffee. "Includin' that story of my demise to which you refer."

"You mean – that was true?"

"Depends on what you call 'truth'," he said. "Lot of things out there that are called stories and fairytales that are true. Like that Phix lady of his." He motioned with his mug at Cornelius.

"A sphinx. That's what he called her."

"Thar's a lot of things in this world that people shouldn't know about," Billens replied, considering his coffee. "That's where my department comes in."

Oscar wasn't sure if he wanted to know about this, but he continued to listen.

"The Marshalls have a 'Department of Special Investigations,' headed up by a very interesting lady name of Jin Han Wei." Oscar froze for a moment at the mention of the name. Billens didn't notice, and continued. "She has consulted with princes, kings, presidents and prime ministers. And she is currently heading our service – with the specific task to keep certain knowledge from getting out and about."

Hough returned with a knock and "Badger" call. Billens opened the door, allowing the private to enter.

"One of Colonel Link's men gave me this for you, suh," he said, handing a dispatch to him before sitting down.

Billens looked at the paper.

"We should be cleared to leave for Parkersburg first thing in the morning," he said. "We'll be off at six o'clock. The spy will be interred there until his military tribunal." He frowned a moment. "And it appears that we won't be able to get a train out until the fifth. Rail traffic on the B&O has been frozen until after the inaugural over some issues with raiding parties attacking the trains in the Appalachians."

"So we're going to be sitting in Parkersburg for a day and a half?" Watts asked.

"Looks like it."

[jwhouk]

---

Midnight came, and the call was made to the three in the other room to switch with their counterparts. Watts was called to rouse the Belgian – and, amazingly, he rose without problem or complaint. He even commented that his hand was starting to feel better.

Austin and Hatch switched with Billens and Hough, while Watts quietly shed his coat and boots for the bunk. He wasn't sure he wanted to face sleep, at the risk of dreaming.

He did manage to get himself comfortable, though his thoughts about the strange things he'd heard from Billens – or was that Achilles? He never did deny the name – and Cornelius the Centurion.

Soon, the boat's gentle rocking motion and the slight breeze that came in through the slightly open window made him drift off to sleep.

He found himself looking out, over a balcony, and down at a grand hall with checkered tiles – and lines and lines of bookshelves.

There were two figures talking to each other, down on the floor below. For some reason, he could hear their conversation:

"Your step-granddaughter informed me that I unintentionally caused them to fail in one of their last attempts at fixing the Calendar Machine. I'm… not exactly sure what to think about that."

"You have heard of Chaos Theory, have you not?"

"Ah, yes – the Butterfly Effect. Butterfly flaps its wings in the Amazon, and a typhoon wipes out most of Japan. I can only imagine how frustrating that would have been for Jin, trying to control all the variables to get to that final moment."

"From what my wife tells me, Jin learned rather quickly what had failed that particular time. And she made sure that it didn't happen again."

It suddenly occurred to Oscar that the one person was Cornelius. The other one, he couldn't quite make out. The voice sounded familiar, though.

"Finding your way around okay?" Oscar turned. The mousy blonde with the glasses stood behind him, in a fully human form.

"Phix?" She nodded in the affirmative to him. "Is this the Library he was talking about?"

"The same," she replied. "Only the followers of Theodosius couldn't burn it down. It's a bit hard to explain to you, Oscar, but suffice to say we're not quite on earth at the moment."

"But why all this subterfuge, then?" Oscar asked. "If you can change things like that – and your husband is immortal…"

"Nearly immortal," she corrected. "He can be killed. In fact, I thought him dead at one point, myself."

"Is that the same with Billens?" Phix's face screwed up on hearing that name.

"Billens is in this? Oh, well, that explains some things." She sighed. "Let's take a walk, Oscar. I need to tell you a few things."

[jwhouk]

---

A series of flashbacks, scenes, and some strange lights emanating from the inside of what appeared to be an old Mayan temple, flashed before him as he walked with Phix.

"So there is, indeed, a kernel of truth in all of the myths and stories of the ancients," Phix concluded as they finally made their way to the alcove she called her office. "And much of those stories have ended up here over the years – truth, fictions, and some of both."

"So – how do I fit into this?" Oscar asked plainly. "I'm just a soldier fighting in a war."

"You are a piece of a puzzle." A figure appeared from the shadows – a woman in a black dress of mourning, complete with a full-face veil that hid her features – but not her glinting, golden eyes.

"Jin?" Oscar found himself asking.

"They've taught you well," she replied. "Mister Billens will recognize me when you get to Parkersburg. I need to see him, and this man you escort – and make sure they gain safe harbor in Washington."

"Cornelius," Oscar clarified. Jin nodded behind the veil.

"Your job, Mister Watts, is to keep him safe. That means from himself, as well as others."

"I'm not sure I need protecting, Daughter of the Timekeeper." A figure appeared beside Oscar. It was the centurion he had seen in the earlier "dream" when he'd been knocked out.

"Ave, Private Watts," he saluted. "May you and your line extend for eternity."

"Knock off the show, Neil," Jin said through the veil. "You know you're nothing much without your satchel."

"Yes, but I now have something to live for," he stood to his full height. "Thanks to this gentleman."

"Me?"

"You gave me back Phix," he said, turning to him. He removed his helmet, and put down his sword. "You gave me back my hope."

Cornelius turned, and there was a terrifying shadow overhead – a monstrous being with long wings and talons of a lion.

"I SMELL HUMAN!" The beast roared as it landed in front of him.

"Indeed you do," Cornelius replied.

The creature pulled its face up to his – Cornelius blocked his view of the being's face, but Oscar suspected he knew who it was.

"Do you seek knowledge, or adventure?"

Cupping her left cheek with his right hand, the old Roman responded:

"I seek you."

And he kissed her.

He dodged her slash with a speed that belied his age. Three times she tried to strike, only to miss while he dodged with ease.

Oscar winced as he saw each attempt at a strike.

"YOUR DEATH SHALL BE SLOW AND PAINFUL!" she roared in indignation as she slashed empty air a fourth time.

"Eum qui vocavit vos occideris 'dilectum'?" he asked.

That stopped her dead in her tracks. Oscar's Latin was rusty, but he though he mentioned something about being her "beloved".

She stepped forward, and took a long sniff on the man.

"Cornelius? Gaius Cornelius Antonia?"

"The same."

The scene suddenly brightened, and the two of them were standing in a white room, wearing white clothing – he shirts and trousers, Cornelius a white toga and sash.

"That was it?" he asked. "That is how I'll see her?"

"I… I guess so," Oscar stated shakily.

"We're sharing this dream together, aren't we?" Cornelius looked at him with a bit of puzzlement – and a touch of amusement.

"Yeah – though it beats me to tarnation exactly how."

"That would be me," came a voice behind them. A tall woman, with dark, long hair and wearing a tiara with a symbol that looked like an uppercase Y stood before them. "My sister-in-law wanted me to make sure you two made it to your next destinations. And this was the easiest way to do it." She pointed toward the sky, in the dream.

"Time to wake up, though. Be careful, and remember what awaits you."

---

Oscar woke slowly. The morning sun had reflected off some brightwork on the eaves outside their room's window, and into the sleeping quarters of their suite.

He allowed himself a stretch, then turned to look at his bunkmates. Hough was still sleeping. Billens appeared to be reading something quietly.

He noticed that it was Homer's Odyssey.

Oscar had a wry smile on his face as he whispered, "Looking for tips, suh?"

Billens closed the book quickly.

"No, private," he explained as he tucked the book away into a satchel next to the bed. "I enjoy reading a good piece of fiction at times."

Oscar only chuckled to himself.

[jwhouk]

---

Yes, I just tied in three of our Magnum Opuses together, why do you ask?

In case you're wondering: Phix just ran the first-run version of Wapsi Square: The Motion Picture for Oscar. It covers everything from the GG's introduction to the Calendar Machine.

[lake_wrangler]

"Centurion," he stated plainly, "would you care to explain to me and Mr. Watts about why you went against the edict of Theodosius and fought to keep the Library of Alexandria from being destroyed?"

I suppose that's one way to put someone off balance...

"That would be me," came a voice behind them. A tall woman, with dark, long hair and wearing a tiara with a symbol that looked like an uppercase Y stood before them. "My sister-in-law wanted me to make sure you two made it to your next destinations. And this was the easiest way to do it." She pointed toward the sky, in the dream.

Nice touch...

By the way, why was Jin "in a black dress of mourning, complete with a full-face veil that hid her features – but not her glinting, golden eyes?"

Yes, I just tied in three of our Magnum Opuses together, why do you ask?

I'm disappointed... I expected far more, from you...

In case you're wondering: Phix just ran the first-run version of Wapsi Square: The Motion Picture for Oscar. It covers everything from the GG's introduction to the Calendar Machine.

And when will you be working on that? Have you gotten so far as the casting, yet? Need a tall, overweight yet fairly strong, actor? Or a narrator with a really deep voice?

[Sgt. Howard]

If you were a tad younger, we'd use you as Dashnois- you'd be a natural! I'm sure I can play the elder 'Neil' as well as myself quite adequately- Joe can be himself as well... a younger member of his family might want to consider the role of Oscar. Dinky-Inky might be a choice for Jin, and somehow I suspect Miss Julie could do a passable Suzie. Glytchmeister would do well as a Union Soldier, and now that I think about it, you yourself would easily be one of the 'grease snipes' (common name for below decks mechanics/stoker on a steamboat) that turns into a centaur.
Phix... hmmm.. that's rough territory, that is- she would have to be six foot, nicely shaped, pale, green eyes, auburn hair and REMARKABLY articulate in several languages... quite a tall order. Monica might be easier only because there are make-up experts that can do 'ginormas boobs' good enough for a nude scene...
... in short, it could be done- but in truth, digital animation would make easier work of it, with voices being the only human element... besides, how could you create Nicodemus? or Nudge?
Every scene I write, I actually see it. Often enough, I pull in background music- doing this as a screenplay would not be hard

[lake_wrangler]

My voice is at your disposition, should the need come for it, at any time.

You know, short of doing a movie or animation adaptation, there is also the radio drama option...

[Sgt. Howard]

That morning, there was a bit of a commotion upstream- seems the shore on both sides had been infiltrated with companies of McNeil's Rangers who decided to attack the boat and the 12th Indiana was call out to deal with those on the northern shore while several companies of the 9th Ohio gave chase to those irregulars on the south shore, assisted by the battered remains of the 7th Michigan Cavalry. A systematic chaos descended upon the boat- Suzie had spoken of the irregulars as part of the plan, but nobody figured on them bringing the battle to the dock when the boat didn't disembark.
In all the confusion, 'Tanner' didn't get his 'morning medication'- in the midst of this 'headless chickens dance', he took time to asses his situation.
Without the laudanum clouding his mind, he realized that he had no fractures, only bruises. Looking over to his right, he saw the paraphernalia used to plaster his limbs- on the table was a small rounded sawblade with an ivory handle. His right arm was 'tractioned' by tape straps- with a little effort, it came free. Quickly, he grabbed the saw and started working on his legs, freeing them up in a remarkably short time before removing the short casts from both arms. He was now free... but also quite naked... and no clothing seemed readily available...

Out on the Starboard Third Promenade, Suzie was busy patching wounds as they occurred from the various firing positions. She had taken more than a few hits herself, but those wounds never bled nor caused her more than a moment's discomfort. Suddenly, she stopped what she was doing and turned to a Pinkerton who was next to her-
"Brooks! Go see to our prisoner- he never got his morning shot!"
"So he'll be in pain... who cares?" he replied as he dumped a few aimed shots into the enemy position with his 1860 Henry.
"HE HAS NO BROKEN BONES! If he figures that out, he'll escape! Load that thing up- if he is free, keep shooting until you're empty,"
The lanky youth from eastern Tennessee, one of the few humans on the Pinkerton team, pulled back from the line of fire and proceeded to the infirmary, stopping only to pull back the magazine follower towards the muzzle of his rifle and twist the whole operation to lock it, then drop enough 44 Henry rimfire to top it off. 13 rounds total- that "damn Yankee rifle they wind up on Sunday and SHOOT ALL WEEK'- of course, Pinkerton had no trouble shelling out the princely sum each weapon cost, issuing them only to fellows like Brooks who could place every shot accurately within 130 yards in rapid succession... apparently it was in the blood. His kid sister Mary would marry a fellah named William York- their third child, a boy named Alvin, would make a name for myself in another war...

Now fully loaded, he scampered into the infirmary and saw the empty bed... then he saw the tip of an amputation blade slip out through his tunic from within... and felt the intense pain as his heart attempted to deal with the steel blade that had been shoved through it from behind.
Then he felt no more.

[Sgt. Howard]

Imagine this with an ivory handle

[Sgt. Howard]

Now wearing rough canvas trousers and a blood-splattered shirt, 'Tanner' made his way to his own cabin. He had no key and the door was locked- but even so, a quick shaping of splint wire that he had found created a functional 'key'. He found his steamer trunk and kit bag still there, so he went to work immediately on his appearance. The bloody soiled clothing went out the porthole. His old canvas duster went over a smallish arsenal that now included that 'Damned Yankee Rifle'...

Down in the 'prisoner's suite' on deck one, Billens, Watts, Hough and Cornelius all listened to the sporadic firefight outside.
"They were instructed to leave no survivors," commented Billens.
"Not surprising- they feel I know more that I do," muttered Cornelius.
"Jut what DO you know? What is this great secret that has everybody so flustered? asked Watts.
"You remember hearing about the sinking of the 'Housatonic' in Charleston Harbor?" all parties nodded, "I was guarding the boat that sank it- your people want to know how it worked,"
"How did it work?" asked Hough.
"Haphazardly... she killed thirteen crewmen before she even went to battle, then killed the crew that was on board after the blockade ship sank- total of twenty one men, drowned. A damned clever idea, but some of the issues are not resolved,"
"What on earth happened to your drawl?" Hough demanded.
Cornelius looked up and smiled. "Hmm... seems I got a little too comfortable there..."

"Colonel Link, we gotta get that damn boat outta here- if they breach our line, they'll torch it fer sure," Yelled First Sergeant Wilks over the crackle of musketry.
"I KNOW that, Wilks! But the hawsers are under their field of fire, and I'll be damned if there's any volunteers to go out and... what the hell is THAT?!?"
Two hulking fellows approached the hawser billets holding a massive piece of boiler plate from behind... it appeared that handles had been riveted to it for this purpose. Bullets sang as they ricocheted off the steel, their high pitch overriding the cacophony of battle. Once at the billets, they proceeded to unlace them while an unseen crew hauled them in from under cover. The calliope whistle sounded (for she was up to steam) and she slowly backwheeled out of port, slipped into stream and gave full Johnston Forward with the throttle to the back wall. Of course, her three screws had already been dropped and the turntable was spinning as fast as six Centaurs could push it.
As she backed out, the two fellows behind the boilerplate ran from it, letting it drop as they jumped onto their boat and found cover. The Confederate troops were quite shocked to see such big men move so quickly- there were attempts to hit them that all fell short of the mark.

"We're underway? Well, I guess that solves the issue of these pesky Confederates," Billens observed. Just then, the door burst open. Tanner had kicked it hard enough to break the frame where the deadbolt of the lock was buried. Leveling the Henry right at Billen's face, he went to squeeze the trigger. Cornelius stood up and placed his cuffs in the line of fire just as this was to happen. The bullet struck the cuffs and ricocheted right into the frame of the door to 'Tanner's' right, un-nerving him. Cornelius let rip with a blue stream of profanity as Hough and Watts pulled their Dragoon pistols and Billens reached for his 1860 colt. Three more shots rang out, but 'Tanner' didn't hang around to appraise them. Hatch and Dashnois, along with the fairly recuperated Austin, emerged from their sleeping quarters just in time to see the assailant climbing the stairs. Dashnois quickly pulled the pepperbox that he had purloined and, left handed, creased the left buttocks of the retreating assassin.
"What is it with you and shooting them in the butt?" asked Hatch.
"Hell, I can only shoot what they offer me- 'suppose I ought to ask him to strike a pose next time?"

[Sgt. Howard]

now Tanner has a matched set

[Sgt. Howard]

By the way, why was Jin "in a black dress of mourning, complete with a full-face veil that hid her features – but not her glinting, golden eyes?"

You shall see...

[Sgt. Howard]

My voice is at your disposition, should the need come for it, at any time.

You know, short of doing a movie or animation adaptation, there is also the radio drama option...

Radio Drama... tricky, yet the ultimate low-budget production... hmm... let me think about that...