150 Years Ago

[jwhouk]

So does that make me David Gerrold, and Sarge Peter David?

(Bonus for anyone who gets the reference...)

[jwhouk]

---

The sun rose, streaming into their suite on the Queen City Belle – and directly into the eyes of Oscar. He had been trying very hard not to nod off as he, Austin and Hough were watching… Cornelius.

He'd decided that he would call him that – but not in the presence of others. Something told him those two beings he'd seen in his dream wouldn't like it otherwise.

Meanwhile, he'd imposed himself on the meager rations they'd received after he'd bunked down earlier. It was actually edible, and it sure beat the hardtack and salt pork he'd been getting regularly on the trip down from Wisconsin. Biscuits, gravy, and what looked like cubed beef. Apparently, the steamer line wasn't hurting from the general lack of supplies that had affected most of the nation. That probably was due to where they were – Ohio.

He'd heard from some of the other soldiers in Nashville about how much the people of the state had supported the Union cause in the four years prior. Hell, he'd even seen it back when he was in Beloit, the snappy blue uniforms of the regulars who had come to speak to his fraternal lodge, imploring them to join the cause.

Austin and Hough had fallen asleep again, despite the level of brightness in the cabin from the sun coming off the cliffs on the riverside. He rolled his eyes as he bit down on the last of his biscuit.

He eyed Cornelius. He was sleeping quietly, peacefully. He wondered if he was having a dream about Phix.

The sun was slowly disappearing through the window – that meant they were in the final stretch before reaching Cincinnati, if he remembered from the brief moment when the corporal was lucid.

He looked at him. His tongue was hanging a bit, and there was a small spittle of drool on the edge of his mouth.

If that's what officer material is, he didn't want to be an officer.

[Sgt. Howard]

The sleep of Hough and Austin was severely disrupted by the calliope scream of the boat's whistle, announcing approach to the docks. Austin bit his tongue in the process and proceeded to curse as fluently as the injury allowed, splattering bits of blood over the area around him. Hough woke to this sight and panicked slightly, thinking the prisoner had done the Corporal harm. Cornelius woke with a slight start and stared in amazement at the spectacle before him, trying to make head or tail of the commotion... next, he was staring down the barrel of the 3rd Model Dragoon pistol that had been issued to Hough.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!?" Hough demanded, "ANSWERE ME OR I'LL... I'LL KILL YOU ONE BULLET AT A TIME, YOU BASTARD!!!"
Cornelius just looked at him for a spell- no fear, no response at all- finally he said to Oscar,
"Watts... you want to tell him?"
By now, the Corporal had put his hand on Hough's pistol and pulled it down. He looked directly at Hough and said, "I mbit by dong,"
"You what?"
"I mbit by dong,"
"... what's a 'dong'?"
"Hough," Oscar managed, "he bit his tongue- the whistle blew and startled everybody. Corporal Austin managed to bite his tongue as a result... (snerk)... now, what , uh, 'Marty' was trying to tell you, but figured I ought to tell you is this- to shoot that thing, you have to pull back the hammer... but first, you need to load it... (snerk)... (Giggle)... I gotta use the (Snerk) Bivy... BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!" he bellowed as he left the cabin. He got outside to the passageway before he collapsed against the bulkhead as he roiled with laughter, leaving the two unfortunate messmates to asses their situation in front of the prisoner. It was a good, soul-searching laugh, the kind that cleansed the shadows from your mind. Tears were rolling down his face before he could finish or get any means of control- by then he realized he DID have to use the bivy...
On his return, he was amazed to see Cornelius instructing both Hough and Austin on how to load their pistols...
"NO! Only load five chambers- oth'rwise th' hammer sits on a live round in th' holster and one smack on th' spur will be th'
beginnings of a bad day. Right, five chambers of 35 grains of powder... now place a ball over each chamber, one at a time, rotate under th' loading bar, pull down th' lever tight,"
"How tight?" asked Austin.
"If you whistle Dixie out yer arse, thet might be overdoing it- just get it snug, that's all... yes, that's good... I'm surprised they gave y'all flask and ball instead of paper cart'idge, but then them 'smokewagons' are a bit out of date... oh they WORK just dandy, but a bit heavy after a while... right... now, did they give y'all grease?"
Both men looked blank.
"Huh- well, I 'spect Billens might know where y'all ken get grease- just a thumb's worth from the engine house of this floatin' sawmill will do what y'all need- just enough to cover each ball... that p'vents fire from jumpin' chambers, settin' them ALL off... once y'all got that, then stuff a cap on each nipple an' yer done,"
"This thing has more than one... oh, yea, one for each chamber... I see," Austin commented.
"They done give y'all these things an' didn't tell ya anything about them?" Cornelius asked.
"Uh... no... huh- I guess they figured we ... already knew?" Hough stated.
"It's a rare infantryman what knows how to load a revolver," Cornelius sagely stated, "on account that y'all don't fight with them. An' they are tricky little bastards, I can tell ya... any number of things can go wrong,"
"Then," Austin asked, "why do we even use them?"
"At the moment, 'tain't nuthin' better... trust me I've seen worse..."

[jwhouk]

"But you will see better," came a voice from the other room. Billens had his revolver trained directly on 'Marty'.

"Smith & Wesson. Idiots stole the design from Sam Colt. Impressive piece, though." He looked up at Austin. "Shoulda trained your people how to use guns before you had 'em guard me, Marshall."

"All I need to know is that I can use this one, Mr. 'Younger.'" He motioned to Oscar. "Move him over to the chair."

Oscar didn't say anything to Cornelius. "Marty" simply got up, walked over to the other side of the room – still tethered to the post in the middle of the room. Oscar made at least a show of escorting him to the chair. He noticed that the man's apparent frailty was a deceit; his arm felt as solid as a rock.

Unconsciously, Watts patted down the prisoner's arm, thinking perhaps there was something more to it – a weapon? But no – it was the man's arm.

"Something wrong, Watts?" Billens asked, moving away from the door as Hatch emerged from the other room.

"Uh, no, sir, not at all. Though, beggin' your pardon," he looked down at Cornelius' clothing, "but the prisoner looks like he could use a visit to the privy?"

Billens was annoyed, but somewhat understanding. "Down the hall to the left. I'd say take Dashnois with you, but I'm not trying to rouse the behemoth."

[Sgt. Howard]

Oscar took the keys from Austin and unlatched the lock holding the chain from the post... he then wrapped the chain around his own waist as he had seen Dashnois do. Helping the man up, they slowly shuffled out into the hallway and started towards the facility in question. After they got a safe distance, Oscar asked, "Do all Navy Men know how to load pistols?"
"I imagine so... dealing with boarding parties an' such, it only makes sense... only I'm actually Cavalry, First Sergeant of the Ninth Virginia. I was pullin' security on sumptin' that has everyone's interest, that's why everybody's in such an uproar over me,"
Oscar looked shocked- "Why are you telling ME this?"
Cornelius looked at him and smiled, "They'll find it soon enough, there's a pretty good idea where it went down... an' t' be honest, what I know ain't as much as they think... besides, YOU treated me decently from day one... an' we been sharing dreams where you done told me that someone I thought dead is still alive... and wantin' me..."
"The woman represented by the sphinx?"
Cornelius snorted- "Yeah... that one... but I never saw her with short hair before... nor glasses..."
"Well, she IS a bit older now, I suppose,"
"Yea... I suppose..." he grinned to himself at some unspoken joke.
They made it to the 'Closet'- Oscar inspected the room- no chance of escape. He unlocked the chain from his body, secured it to a steam pipe on the radiator, and stepped outside. Cornelius stepped in, turned around, and handed the keys back to the startled Union man before he closed the door.
"You ought to be more careful with them," he casually stated as he made himself comfortable.

[jwhouk]

His great-great-grandson would have backhanded you for that - after taking the keys from you.

(Oops, did I give something away?)

[Sgt. Howard]

After the appropriate amount of time and noises, Cornelius announced he was ready to return to his cabin. Oscar took efforts to loop his hand through the key ring once the lock was undone and never trusted it to his pocket. Again, he secure the chain to his own waist and again they shuffled down the passageway.
"You're having fun with this, aren't you," asked Oscar in mock irritation.
"Why not? In th' process, I'm teachin' you t' be a better guard,"
They walked a little further-
"Who is Jin?"
Cornelius frowned at the name- "Don't rightly know... but she looked a keen deal like a golden eyed girl I knew in Mexico, name of 'Conejo'... native type, wild little thing... heh... she could walk across a clothesline and not put a dent in it... tiny, mind you... but don't rile her! I called her a 'Cucarachita' ... that's 'bitty woman cockroach' in Spanish. She knocked me down with one swat!!!" he turned to Oscar with a crooked smile, "Y' gotta respect things like that," turning back to the hallway, "She always was on top o' everythin' an' had no trouble tellin' me what I needed to know... she had no more love of Santer Anner than a dog loves fleas..."
"She the one you're looking for?"
Cornelius looked at him with a slight scowl- "Th' man whut can give THAT woman whut she wants ain't been born- Nosir, it's the Lady Phix I seek! Her an' no other!"
That seemed to close the discussion.

[jwhouk]

Oscar was still beet-red after escorting Mr. Younger back from the closet. Billens noticed it, but said nothing.

They lashed and locked him back to the pole, allowing him to remain seated on the bunk. Hatch and Hough were seated, while Billens stood at the door to the sleeping room.

There was a knock on the door, and Austin entered with a porter. "Coffee," he said. "French press, or something." The porter placed a short urn on the table across from Marty, only barely raising an eyebrow at the rebel prisoner before departing.

"About time we had something decent to drink," Hatch said. He was about to pass his tin cup to Oscar when the ship made a gentle WHUMP, indicating that they were at the docks in Cincinnati.

"Hold up, son," Younger said. "Ship won't be stable for a moment. Hot coffee is bad for the shooting hand."

"You know, you're annoying enough that I'd be happy to deliver your remains to Headquarters," Billens said with a snort. "But I've been instructed to bring you there in one piece – and breathing."

"If you intend to shoot me with that pop gun of yours, I might not be the one not breathing."

Billens was surprised at the repartee by his quarry, but decided to say nothing.

Coffee was offered to all – Younger, however, passed – and it was at that point Oscar commented as to the whereabouts of Dashnois.

"Bastard's still sleepin'," Hatch said. "What I was told was that he only made it through basic training because he routinely took down the hand-to-hand instructor during drills."

"Hell if I'm going to try rousing him," Austin said, sipping on the coffee. "You want to try, Watts?"

"Are you kidding?" Watts lifted the chains that secured Younger to the post. "I was straining a bit just lugging these to the privy. And I'm not one to like having my face rearranged." He looked squarely at Billens at that comment, who responded with a grunt and a sip on his own coffee.

Hough shook his head. "I poked him once on the train up from Nashville, cause I had to use the washroom. I thought he was going punch a hole in the seat."

"Well, then, who's gonna wake him?" Austin asked. They all looked at each other.

Then everyone looked at Younger.

"The chain's long enough," Austin noted. "Maybe make sure his gun's not handy."

"If he's trained as well as you boys, I doubt that'd be a problem." He looked at Billens. "With your permission?"

Billens looked into the other room. Dashnois was still dead asleep.

"No funny stuff," he warned, motioning with his still-drawn revolver.

Younger got up, walked into the other room, with the four sets of eyes squarely on him.

Younger simply leaned down and said something – Oscar couldn't quite make it out, but it sounded like, "Le café est prêt, jeune homme."

There was a snort.

"Mais mère, je ne veux pas de se lever en ce moment," he replied. He rolled over onto his back, and stretched.

"Dashnois! Time to get up," Billens said, annoyed that the prisoner had done a better job of waking his charge.

Dashnois looked up. He didn't expect to see Younger standing there – and he rose to his feet rather quickly.

"Wait, what are you…" He reached for his pistol – and found it empty.

Billens handed it back to him, unchambered.

"You need to learn to wake when roused if you're going to last in this war, young man," Billens commented.

[lake_wrangler]

As entertaining as ever. Surprised to see that Neil knew Jin, but that's not all that strange... She's been busy, over the years, crafting history to fit her plans to get the calendar fixed (and give herself and her mom a cushy retirement fund in the process...)

However...

"Mais mère, je ne veux pas de se lever en ce moment," he replied.

Google translate, I presume? Three things to take note of:

"Mère" sounds rather formal... "Maman" would be more appropriate. Mère is more of a title, whereas maman is more of a "name". Generally, you speak of or about your mère, you speak to your maman... It's not totally inconceiveable that one would call their mom "mère", but it would denote a rather cold and distant relationship between the two. We don't say "but mother" (usually with the "mother" being stretched out in a whiny voice) like people do in English, but rather "but mom". In fact, I'm not too sure about the "But", either...

"Je ne veux pas se lever" should be "Je ne veux pas me lever". It's the difference between saying "I do not want to get [oneself] up," and "I do not want to get [myself] up" (I put "oneself" and "myself" in square brackets because in English, you would not use them in the sentence, but they are understood to be there in meaning...)

"en ce moment" (at this moment) is also rather formal. "Maintenant" (now) would be more informal, yet it would not be natural, to me... I think "tout de suite" (right now, right away - even though Google translate and a few others do indeed translate "right away" with " en ce moment"...) is more likely something someone who is barely awake would say.

So a corrected phrase would look like this:
"Maman, je ne veux pas me lever tout de suite," he replied.

Alternately, you could also say:
"Encore cinq minutes, s'il-vous-plait, maman," he replied. (Five more minutes, please, mom...)

The thing about automated translation websites, is that unless you are very familiar with the second language, you usually need to double-check the translation with a native speaker, or at least with someone more familiar with the language than you.
*whistles innocently...*


But don't let that deter you. The rest of your story is magnificent! Intriguing, amusing (love the way he plays with those soldiers, embarrassing them with his superior knowledge of their own weapons, and the ease with which he acquires the keys from them...), captivating. It really draws you in. Well done.

[Julie]

As entertaining as ever. Surprised to see that Neil knew Jin, but that's not all that strange... She's been busy, over the years, crafting history to fit her plans to get the calendar fixed (and give herself and her mom a cushy retirement fund in the process...)

However...

"Mais mère, je ne veux pas de se lever en ce moment," he replied.

Google translate, I presume? Three things to take note of:

"Mère" sounds rather formal... "Maman" would be more appropriate. Mère is more of a title, whereas maman is more of a "name". Generally, you speak of or about your mère, you speak to your maman... It's not totally inconceiveable that one would call their mom "mère", but it would denote a rather cold and distant relationship between the two. We don't say "but mother" (usually with the "mother" being stretched out in a whiny voice) like people do in English, but rather "but mom". In fact, I'm not too sure about the "But", either...

"Je ne veux pas se lever" should be "Je ne veux pas me lever". It's the difference between saying "I do not want to get [oneself] up," and "I do not want to get [myself] up" (I put "oneself" and "myself" in square brackets because in English, you would not use them in the sentence, but they are understood to be there in meaning...)

"en ce moment" (at this moment) is also rather formal. "Maintenant" (now) would be more informal, yet it would not be natural, to me... I think "tout de suite" (right now, right away - even though Google translate and a few others do indeed translate "right away" with " en ce moment"...) is more likely something someone who is barely awake would say.

So a corrected phrase would look like this:
"Maman, je ne veux pas me lever tout de suite," he replied.

Alternately, you could also say:
"Encore cinq minutes, s'il-vous-plait, maman," he replied. (Five more minutes, please, mom...)

The thing about automated translation websites, is that unless you are very familiar with the second language, you usually need to double-check the translation with a native speaker, or at least with someone more familiar with the language than you.
*whistles innocently...*


But don't let that deter you. The rest of your story is magnificent! Intriguing, amusing (love the way he plays with those soldiers, embarrassing them with his superior knowledge of their own weapons, and the ease with which he acquires the keys from them...), captivating. It really draws you in. Well done.

I thought it looked weird. Good to know I haven't lost all the French I learned in school.

[Sgt. Howard]

There were several more bumps and grinds as the tall sidewheeler was brought to dock- to his credit, the Pilot threw nobody onto the deck- but several thousand tons of vessel fighting a current and inertia at a fixed point is at best a tricky business. Once docked, a steward brought a plate of breakfast to each of the soldiers that was previously sleeping (having wisely concluded that the boat's whistle served for reveille). Cornelius looked at his own plate as if expecting it to vanish into mist... then slowly, deliberately he sampled each bite with the extreme rapture of one long denied adequate food. He had enough discipline to know that bolting his meal would leave his stomach knotted and his mouth feeling cheated- THIS meal he would savor. When he finished, he had the contented look of a child ready for a nap. Hough, Dashnois, Hatch and Austin by comparison went into their plates like a herd of hogs at the trough, and the disappointed look on their faces when the plates were all but licked clean spoke of the very thing that Cornelius avoided. There was an ugly moment when Dashnois seemed a bit too intent on Cornelius's delicate eating habits- Oscar spoke up clearly- "That's HIS plate, leave him be,"
Dashnois at first looked at Oscar as if to silence him, then noticed that all eyes were upon him... and he censored his own actions.
Billens watched the whole episode with a jaded eye (the other one being slightly bloused) while he finished his own plate. Certainly, whoever 'voluntold' Dashnois into this detail was only too happy to do so. He spoke up-
"Dashnois- your behavior during this duty is nothing short of despicable- if we have to resort to waking you with buckets of water, I will personally throw the bucket. Your efforts to intimidate everyone when you neglect your own duty is close to earning you a stint in chains... if not an eligibility for the post itself! And if you ARE to be chained to a post, I shall see to it that I give the order to fire! Do I make myself clear?"
Dashnois glared at Billens as he slowly growled, "... yes... sir..."
Clearly this wasn't finished...

[jwhouk]

Part of me figured at least you, Lake, would be able to give me the proper French translation.

I don't trust Google translate for 100% of the common translations on the web. I needed something for the "But ma, I don't wanna get up yet" joke.

Fun fact of the day: there is a large French influence in the Fox Cities area. This is because French explorers were the first to colonize what is now Green Bay.

[Sgt. Howard]

BTW- I browsed a Sternwheeler for sale on the Mississippi for 4.8 million- not a bad way to make a living, especially when you consider that on international waterways, running a casino is legal. You gotta shut it down the moment your deckhands throw a hawser to shore

[jwhouk]

---

They disembarked from Cincinnati at the top of the hour, heading out to their next port of call in Portsmouth.

Dashnois had devoured the last of the biscuits and gravy, but discovered later that it didn't agree with him. A slight wind that had caused the boat to rock a bit more than usual wasn't helping, either.

"By yer leave, Corporal suh?" His green countenance was apparent, even as he dashed to the door without waiting for permission.

"Gra…" Dashnais was out the door, down the hall and out to the nearest rail – where he emptied the contents of his stomach loudly.

Younger shook his head. "Boy doesn't have his sea legs," he commented.

The time passed, with the small group quietly sitting and doing pretty much nothing. Dashnois had retreated to the bunk area again, this time balled up from the cramping.

Austin and Hatch were talking about venison they had shot the previous fall. It turned out they both did some hunting in an area near the small town of Dousman.

"Buncha Krauts settled in the area, farmed up most of it." Austin sipped on the last of his coffee. "One of 'em plowed up where I'd nearly got a 15-pointer when I was a kit."

"That's right off School Section Lake, ain' it? Think I got a few good bass out of there at one point."

The ship's bell sounded to indicate the top of the hour. Oscar had coffee in him, but it was apparently ready to come out.

"Permission to use the privy, suh?" He looked first at Austin, then at Billens. The latter nodded, while Austin waved him off.

"Just don't lose your breakfast like Dashnois there," Hatch added in jest.

Oscar rose and headed out the door to the Water Closet. It beat a hole in the ground, any day. Once done with his business, he used the washbasin to splash his face. The last thing he wanted to do was nod off when he was back in there – and not because he'd get cussed out by Billens or even Austin.

He didn't want to risk having to dream again.

He stepped out of the closet and nearly plowed into a woman in a nurse's outfit. "Oh! I'm sorry, ma'am," he said.

"That's quite all right," she said, though she seemed a bit agitated. Her hair was pulled back under her cap, which sported a bright Red Cross on the front. "These corridors are a bit on the narrow side." She looked at him. "I don't think I recall seeing you as part of the group we were escorting back to Baltimore."

"Huh?" She pointed down at his coat and insignia. "Oh, no, I'm from the Wisconsin 44th. On assignment."

"Wisconsin, huh?" She wrinkled her face. "Haven't been up that way. Also haven't seen too many of you in my hospitals." She smirked slightly. "Sure you're not actually from Canada?"

"Got that a lot when we were comin' down to Nashville," Oscar replied. "I gotta get back to mah unit. Nice meetin' you, uh,nurse…"

"Suzanne McBride," she offered her hand politely. It was nearly alabaster white, with red splotches. Oscar took her hand and bowed courtly.

"Oscar Watts, 44th Wisconsin Regiment, at your service, ma'am." He leaned down, keeping his eyes on her, then lifting himself back up to a salute.

It wasn't until they had parted ways that he noticed she had some rather interesting teeth. But, he thought nothing of it and rejoined the group in the cabins.

[jwhouk]

Travel on the river wasn't as fast as it was with trains. In fact, it was pretty slow, relatively speaking.

Hatch suspected that the spring thaw was probably causing the river to flow a bit faster than usual, which meant the steamer was working overtime to get up-river. Hough saw similar things when he went to visit family in Madison.

"I'da thunk someone like Dashnois there would be more familiar with boats'n such," Austin said, eyeing the private – who was still looking a bit queasy. "Bein' that he's on the Fox River 'n all."

"I hate water," Dashnois growled. "Tried swimmin' in the river once. Nearly got sucked unner a coupla rocks. Vowed never again, less I had to for soldier'n."

Billens was a bit amused at that. Keeping the small piece of beef that had been given him by a porter over his eye, he pulled out his pocket watch.

"By my reckonin', we'll be in Portsmouth by afternoon." He did some mental calculations. "Unfortunately, that's gonna put us in Huntington well after dark. Might need to have one of you 'crack shots' to keep watch on deck when time comes." He pursed a devilish smile on his face while looking at Dashnois.

Dashnois was suddenly not sure he wanted to be on this detail anymore.

Watts quietly mentioned about the group of soldiers being escorted by the Red Cross to Baltimore. Billens padded the now-thawed steak against his cheek.

"Hm. Wonder if they've made any contingencies about patrol after sundown." He looked at Austin. "Corporal, take Mr. Watts with you to the Captain. Ask if they need our assistance on lookout."

"Doubt there's many of our boys up here nowadays," came a quiet voice from the bunk. "They're all pro'ly fightin' to save Richmond at the moment."

"I don't doubt it at all," Austin said, rising. "Private, you're with me." Oscar simply gave Cornelius a look, and exited the suite with his superior.

Once he closed the door, Oscar found himself face to face with Austin.

"What is your PROBLEM, private?" He pinned him up against the wall of the hallway. "That man in thayuh is a PRISONER. A dimmed turn coat to the Republic. Y'all are treatin' him like he's a long lost friend o'tha family!"

Watts was stunned at first, but recovered – and figured that this was no time for formalities.

"He is a soldier," he emphasized, leaning right back into Austin's face. "He has seen more battle an' bloodshed than any one of us. And, if I can speak truthfully, he don't got no reason to fight us anymore." Watts had actually stepped Austin back to the opposite side of the narrow hallway. "And as far as he's concerned, we're nothin' more than a damn amusement until he gets where we're goin'. And, pardon any disrespect, suh, but I wonner if'n he's right."

"You're floatin' with insubordination, soldier," Austin replied through gritted teeth.

"And what y'all think you'd do if Billens and I told Colonel Symes how bad you snore when you're supposed to be up and on duty – suh?"

Austin's face fell. The two looked at each other for a good minute, before a porter rounded the bend of the hallway.

"Scuse me, suhs," he said. Austin took advantage of the moment.

"Uh, porter, could you show us to the Captain?" He stepped back from Watts, and turned to the man. "We'd like to offer our services for'n any possible issues he might foresee once we get down river toward Huntington."

"Certainly, suh," he replied with a nod. He motioned them to follow down the hallway. Watts intentionally fell in behind Austin, with the porter leading the way.

[lake_wrangler]

Of course, Suzie would be there...
(Nice touch. )

[jwhouk]

---
The meeting with the captain was rather terse. The Union Army had been doing an admirable job keeping the lines safe between the Huntington and Pittsburg. They were also under a wartime restriction of no leaving port after midnight local between the two cities, nor would they be allowed to leave any earlier than six o'clock.

The captain was a bit miffed that the lot of them wouldn't be going all the way to the Allegheny/Mongahela confluence with them, but they had their own security team. The leader of that team was a burly gentleman with a black coat and narrow eyes – and made Dashnois look like a 98 pound weakling.

Before leaving, the captain handed Austin a packet of dispatches they'd received during their last mail pickup at Maysville. They were all addressed to Billens.

The pair made their way back down to the suite with the others, and Austin dutifully handed the packet to Billens. He had intentionally declined to let Oscar carry the packet. Billens took the packet from the corporal, partly intrigued and partly irritated.

In other words, "situation normal" for him.

The top page he read with some bemusement. "I hope you gentlemen didn't leave anything back in Nashville," he said, reading through the letter. "Your whole battalion has been dispatched to Paducah, Kentucky, to provide security detail in the city."

"What?" Austin was incredulous. Billens handed him the dispatch. Austin read the whole thing out – by order of Colonel Symes, they had been ordered to assist in "the chaotic situation developing around the provisional state government of Kentucky." He looked up at Billens. "What in tarnation does that mean?"

"It means the governor has been acting more like a dictator than a leader," Billens said curtly. He looked down at one of the other dispatches he'd received. "Hm. Word apparently is that Johnston has taken over the Rebel forces in western Tennessee – or what's left of 'em, anyway." This got mostly a grunt from Younger. Dashnois and Hough exchanged grins.

"Damn right there ain't much left of 'em," Dashnois exclaimed. "My boys in D company sent 'em runnin' home for Christmas after they tried to retake Nash-a-ville." He crowed.

"What were you doing during the battle, soldier?" Billens asked.

"Probably mindin' the kitchen patrol," Hatch said with disdain. Dashnois stood up and nearly ran at Hatch for that comment. Austin and Billens had to hold him back.

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK, SUMBITCH!" He screamed. "Twern't my fault Schofield's boys took apart them damn Rebs 'fore I could get up to the front lines!" He shrugged off Austin and Billens, and stepped back on his own accord. "Got in a few licks as they wuz retreatin' back down the Cumberland, but that was all." He stepped back and returned to his seat, next to Younger. "Di'nt help that there was that 'Tennessee Two-Step' goin' on through the back lines for'n us who'd just arrived."

"You actually got a shot off at the Rebs?" Hough was nearly starstruck.

"Like I said – they was already running by time I got my gun goin'." He grunted a bit at the memory. "Think I nailed some corp'ral of theirs'n the butt as he was high-tailin' it out." He gave Watts a cross look. "Nothin' more, though."

"That still doesn't excuse the outbursts, soldier," Austin said with a tone of reprimand.

Dashnois said nothing.

Billens looked at the last dispatch. "It appears we will have two layovers between here and our destination. I'd forgotten about the non-travel restriction west of Huntington."

He looked again at his watch. "Should be to Portsmouth by four bells."

If these lads don't kill each other, first, he thought to himself.

[Sgt. Howard]

For the purposes of this particular operation, he called himself 'Edward Tanner'... it sounded a little more convincing than 'John Smith' or 'Bob Jones' and could fit in anywhere. His Southern drawl was not so easily hidden, so he remained silent as much as possible when He bought his ticket in Cincinnati. He was to either extract Marty Younger from Union Control or silence him- whichever seemed prudent. He was, of course, paid in gold as Confederate currency had no market anymore. He had heard the discussion in the cabin and understood that these soldiers were in fact guarding his quarry. Moving at a slow mosey, he was able to get enough information to understand that silencing Mr. Younger was the only realistic option... just as well, for it was much easier to do and made his getaway that much simpler. There was enough blood on his hands that one more life meant nothing.
The question was where? And How? He had a Ketchum Grenade that would take out the whole room, but they were not particularly reliable. He had several hideout guns, but those always attracted the wrong attention. It looked like he might use his fine, Italian stiletto again... except they kept him surrounded...
There were medical supplies on board- might they include ether? That bore further investigation...

[Sgt. Howard]

One thing he noticed on his way up the stairs- they were not an amicable bunch. Perhaps just be handy for the opportunity once a brawl broke out would give him what he needed... soldiers are easy enough to distract anyway. He had heard about poison darts in a blow tube sort of thing, but wasn't sure how or if that would work... silent... but technique heavy, and reliant on chemicals that he had no familiarity with. Ether works well enough, though- loose some in an enclosed space, and everybody starts to drop. Even better is if one of them smokes- just make sure you're not near when that happens.

Bide your time, he told himself- DC is quite a distance on a boat going upstream this time of year. Look at all possibilities- prepare for whichever seems most prudent. And besides, it's always good money- there's always somebody who wants somebody else dead. Very profitable... not like he personally likes killing others...
... at least, that's what he kept telling himself...

[Sgt. Howard]

'They are about to strangle each other' thought Cornelius as he quietly observed the circumstances... using the distraction to continue his work. Back at Churchill Farm, he found a broken piece of racing shoe in his stall- very light material for a horse shoe, but just the right balance for a thoroughbred race horse to win... and then discard the shoe. He also found the broken end of a saw file- still pretty sharp. Both of these hid very nicely under his cuffs, an area where very few Gaolers bother or think to check. He had spend most of his free time there creating the rough shape that would fit in the key hole- but having impressed the fleshy part of his palm with the key that one time he lifted it off of Oscar, he now had a pretty good idea as to the wards and tumbler of the locks that imprisoned him- having noted they all took the same key. The idea was to make things easy for the Gaoler- but it also made things easy for the prisoner, should he have his wits about him. By now he had mastered the art of filing his work without anyone noticing- it looked like his hands were fidgety and restless, instead of doing something useful. His 'key' had, by default, a short handle... but it seemed pretty close to operational. If he could keep things stirred amongst his captors, he could finish it.
He HAD to be free in Parkersburg, regardless of anything else... but stirring Dashnois was ... dicey... Dashnois was quite mercurial in nature and as likely to turn on HIM as anyone else.
Keep at it... SHE was still alive...SHE still wanted him... for HER, he would survive...