Nick Mazmanian who won Weta's photo competition at Comic Con last year has sent us a story...

The tale of a drunk and a lady

The outing on Mars was to be a short one. Lord and Lady Landy were in dire need of time away from it all, so what better place to go then Mars? Hiring the best guides, buying the most up-to-date equipment, and bringing along their trusty manservant, Barkev, the family plus one set off to the distant planet with tea at moonrise on their minds.

Why family and not just couple? Well, they also sought to bring Felicity Landy, their pride and joy, their daughter of twenty-three years. Fearing the crowded cities of Earth were stifling her creative mind, her parents sought to get her away from it all as well, whether or not she held the same wishes. Truth be told, Felicity was rather found of a boy back on Terra; he had a banjo, a round straw hat, and the greatest of upbringing. Her blue eyes and red hair focused on the cresting horizon of the red planet, and rested upon the jolting angle of Olympus Mons, but her heart was back home, with that boy on his one hundred and twenty acre estate.

The Landys setup camp at the base of the mountain. Breaking out the canvas tents and gas lamps, the help also brought out the extra supplies-two Unnatural Selectors and four Fathom 55 N1900's. Mars was an untamed place, and one could not be not too careful about one's safety. Lord Landy wanted to visit the virgin land but wanted to ensure a safe return as well.

As night fell onto the planet, the trip was going well. The workers stood watch in shifts, Barkev at the ready with the Selectors, as the family rested for the evening; with Felicity having her own tent for...personal reasons. She had grown too old to use the same tent as her mother and father, but she welcomed the privacy. She peered up at the moons hanging off the horizon. As she brushed her hair with her pearl comb she wondered what the future held for her; of what niceties were awaiting in a not too distant time. Thinking of the boy with the banjo back home, she faded off to sleep.

But sleep would not be peaceful this night.

Hearing the roar of their ship's engines, the local savage tribe of the Na'tkaiflu sought forward out of curiosity, but were driven to their actions out of their uncontrollable urges to destroy. They had seen these Earth people before, and armed with their Q'urty spears and Troip arrows, they made their way to the camp. Their red skin made them almost unnoticeable in the light before dawn as they approached the short humans. Making quick work of the hired workers, they moved past the sleeping Barkev and toward the tents. Seeing nothing of interest in the larger one they moved toward Felicity's. When the flap parted, even their savage minds could not deny her beauty.

With outstretched hands they moved toward her. With a muffled scream she was taken into dawns approaching light.

News of the kidnapping had reached Earth. The Landys put up a bounty of £50,000 to anyone who could find their daughter. Amateur explorers and carpetbaggers proposed they would find the girl, all of whom never returned from the rusted surface. Only Barkev knew who would succeed.

He'd served with him during the first landing on Mars and the establishing of the Foreign Legion Outpost. A hero amongst men, he had become forgotten and tossed to the side. Now, he would take any job that would toss a few pence his way. Walking along the docks he entered his usual stomping ground, the bar. Smoke clung to the air as Barkev's boots made the warped floor boards creek, stopping at the end of the bar. There sat "The Terror of the Valles Marineris," the killer of savages; there sat Theodore Allison.

Barkev slid the bottle away from him and told the slightly inebriated Teddy the news. Mentioning Mars just made ghosts reappear in his mind, but the sound of money made him remember every nook and cranny of the red rock.

Filling his flask, Teddy shook the loyal manservant's hand and returned to his tugboat. Letting his eyes close, his mind was enveloped into a realm filled with the screams of his comrades as they were run through with spears, as their blood mixed with the red soil.

With hands shaking, he began to rifle through the mess of the interior. He grabbed his satchel, green overcoat, pipe and lastly his Righteous Bison. He locked his floating home and made his way to the local launch pads, renting one of the only two-seaters they had. He thusly began his return to Mars, knowing the only way to stop the dreams was to face the nightmares head on.

Teddy had landed at the campsite's location. All tracks had been lost due to the frequent and often violent sand storms. He walked the site, estimating where things had been due to equipment left behind. Finding an N1900, he assumed this is where the workers were setup. Further searching revealed a pearl comb in the red sand, holding a red hair; he had found where Felicity's tent had been. Looking off the horizon, he figured that the Na'tkaiflu were far off, remembering that the tribe was more reclusive than most on Mars; they stuck to the rocks and cliffs. Pointing north, pipe in mouth, he began to walk.

Her memories of the boy with the banjo fled with the sounds of stomping. Her captors had taken her hostage, and while they did remove parts of her clothing, they never violated her. For some reason they kept their distance, only giving offerings of local foods set before her hovel. She knew she would never be able to leave. She knew the boy with the banjo couldn't save her. No boy would ever venture to this place.