Alexis Carew: Books 1, 2, and 3

by J. A. Sutherland

  The ship’s boats had lifted from the Coalsons’ homestead and rushed to rejoin Merlin in orbit, the masts and sails being raised even before the boats were aboard and setting course for the belt. It was possible that Coalson’s ship had already left the belt and was en route to virtually any system, but Captain Grantham hoped that the man’s greed would trip him up. If he was secretly mining gallenium, then he would not want to leave behind any of the valuable metal. His ship would have to stop at the mining center, the location of which they’d further sweated from Edmon, and load the material. If that took him long enough, Merlin might arrive in time to catch him.

  With Lieutenant Caruthers still in his berth and heavily medicated to spare him the pain of his badly broken legs healing, Captain Grantham had led the boarding party himself, taking Roland, Philip, all of the marines, and most of the crew, as they had no idea how many men would be present at the mines. Alexis and a small number of spacers were left aboard, along with the recovered sailing master in case the captain needed them to maneuver the ship.

  Alexis looked to the signals console where Peters was stationed, having served her so well in that capacity aboard Grappel.

  “Is there any word?” she asked.

  “No, sir.”

  Merlin was in communication with the ship’s boats, but neither she nor the boats had been able to contact the boarding parties since they’d entered the complex. The stealth systems which had hidden the complex and its activities were just as effective at keeping the boarding parties’ suit radios from contacting them.

  “Sir! There’s a boat coming round the far side of the asteroid!”

  Alexis ran her hand along the navigation plot, bringing the new target into view.

  “Heading dead away, sir. Toward that other great rock circling with this one.”

  “Are we in contact with Captain Grantham at all, Peters?” Alexis asked.

  “No, sir … sir, that boat’s signaling … can’t make it out, it’s encrypted. The computer’s working on it.”

  Alexis hesitated only a moment. “Man the guns and get us under way, Mister Kinsley. Keep trying to reach the captain, Peters and inform the boats of our intent.” She turned to the helmsman. “Takes us right around after them. We’ve enough power to overtake them with the conventional drive and not man the sails.”

  “Aye sir.”

  “And lucky at that,” she murmured to Gorbett, “for we’ve not the crew to man sails and guns both.” She grinned, heart leaping at the prospect of the chase. She considered the limited crew she had available and turned to the bosun. “Mister Kinsley, have them load both broadsides and the starboard bowchaser. Two men, the best gun captain still aboard, to the bowchaser, all the rest we can spare to the gundeck. Should it come to it, we’ll fire one broadside and then work the guns we can with full crews —” She grimaced. “— that will be, I suspect, an intimidating two guns.”

  “Aye sir.”

  Gorbett nodded. “You think Coalson is in that boat, sir?”

  “Coalson or some other of import in this matter, Mister Gorbett.” She paused and caught her lower lip between her teeth, suddenly uncertain. From the moment the fleeing boat had been detected, she’d acted on instinct, simply giving the orders as quickly as they popped into her head. Now that she had a moment to consider, she wondered if she ought to have waited for contact from the captain. “I hesitate to ask, Mister Gorbett,” she said quietly, “but do you agree this is the right course of action?”

  Gorbett’s face softened a bit. “You were left in command, Mister Carew,” he said, equally quietly, though it was certain the crew on the quarterdeck could hear everything. “The decision is yours to make.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “But it would be a poor commander who didn’t seek out the opinion of those more experienced, I think.”

  “Trust yourself, Mister Carew, as Captain Grantham does.”

  As he trusts himself or as he trusts me? Alexis thought, but decided any further questioning would reveal an uncertainty the crew shouldn’t see. She clenched her hands behind her, still wondering if she’d made the right choice and feeling a gnawing doubt.

  Is this what command is, then? A lot of standing about worrying if you’ve made the right decision? A part of her wished she was on the gundeck herself, with nothing more to concern her than encouraging the crews and hauling shot.

  “A transmission from the Chase, sir,” Peters announced. “Says he’s a Daviel Coalson.”

  Alexis stopped herself from asking if there’d been any message at all from the captain, knowing that Peters would have informed her immediately if there had been.

  “Put it on my monitor here, please,” she said.

  A moment later, a monitor near the navigation plot showed Daviel Coalson’s face, flushed and eyes narrowed with rage. “What are you about Grantham? That’s a private mine holding you’ve invaded! It’s my claim and you’ve no business on it! I demand you recall your boats immediately!”

  Alexis reached out to record an answer while Coalson’s transmission continued to play. She glanced at the navigation plot and estimated that there’d be a three or four second delay before her transmission reached him, all the while becoming less and less as Merlin closed the distance to the fleeing boat. At least we’re in normal space and can do it without closing to a few kilometers and flashing lights at each other.

  “Good day, Mister Coalson,” she said, speaking clearly for the recording. “Captain Grantham is unavailable at present, and I’m afraid I must ask you to heave-to for inspection and boarding, sir. Please do so immediately.”

  She transmitted the message and waited for a response, watching Coalson’s own transmission carry on with demands that they break off pursuit and leave his holdings immediately. After a few seconds, the man’s rantings broke off and his eyes widened.

  “You!” Coalson’s nostrils flared and his lip curled up in disgust. “Put your captain on immediately, Carew! I’ll not be spoken to so by some jumped up bint playing at being in the Navy!”

  And here I thought I was quite polite.

  “Mister Coalson,” she said, starting to record for transmission again. “It is Captain Grantham’s intent that you be taken up for questioning in some matter. I am in command of Merlin and will see his wishes carried out, sir.” She had to resist a certain urge to grin as she announced that she was in command. Serious as the situation was, she couldn’t help but feel a little thrill that the ship and all aboard were responding to her will. Grinning would certainly not be the appropriate expression for this message. Though even the nervous flutter in her stomach at the thought that she also bore the sole responsibility for the ship, crew and her decisions couldn’t completely quell it. “Heave-to, sir, and let us put an end to this matter.”

  She examined the plot for a moment after sending the message. “Have the bowchaser fire, Mister Kinsley. Well clear of them, please.” She saw the bosun hesitate and start to speak. “I do know we’re not nearly in a range to put the guns on target, even were we to try. I merely wish to give them something to think about. I much doubt Daviel Coalson knows the effective range of our guns or has ever been fired upon. I hope to impress upon him his situation.”

  “Aye sir. Sorry, sir.”

  A moment later, the bowchaser fired, flashing instantly into the distance, quite unlike the lazy, condensed flow of shot in darkspace.

  “Are you insane, Carew?” Coalson’s next message came a few seconds later. “This is a civilian craft! We’re unarmed, you stupid bitch!”

  Alexis sensed the men on the quarterdeck tense with anger. Even the genial Gorbett clenched his jaw and the bosun’s hand rose to his belt as though to grasp a weapon. She thought of Captain Grantham’s comments about an officer’s demeanor and setting the tone for the crew. There’s a time for that anger, but this is not it, I think.

  “The very worst thing about being a woman in this Navy,” she said to the quarterdeck-at-large, “is that the insults are so very
limited.” She turned to the bosun. “You men get called all the imaginative ones.”

  “Aye sir,” he said. “A quite limited repertoire, these Coalsons have.”

  The helmsman stifled a laugh, clearing his throat and staring fixedly at his station, and Alexis realized that her baiting of Roland on the subject must have made its way to the crew, as well as the gunroom. No secrets aboard ship, she reminded herself.

  “Quite.” She reached forward to record a response to Coalson’s latest. “When an insane bitch armed with sixteen heavy guns is rapidly closing on one, Mister Coalson, it is, perhaps, best to do as she instructs. Heave-to, sir, that is my final instruction. Merlin out.”

  Alexis watched the plot carefully as the arcs indicating the effective range of Merlin’s guns approached the icon of the fleeing boat. The arcs were widest to port and starboard, where the ship’s main guns could be brought to bear and shortest fore and aft, where the smaller, four-pound chasers were. She could turn the ship to bring the main guns to bear, but then they’d lose ground to the fleeing boat.

  “My compliments to the gunner and would he see to the starboard bowchaser, Peters? We’ll be within range shortly and perhaps a shot or two nearer than the last will change Mister Coalson’s plans.”

  “Aye sir.”

  Within a few minutes, the gunner reported that he was ready at the starboard bowchaser and the boat carrying Coalson was within range.

  “Fire when you’re ready, Mister Breech,” Alexis transmitted to the gunner. “Not into them, but make our intent clear, if you please.”

  A moment later the gun fired, the beam of the laser shot passing the fleeing boat to starboard and above.

  “The pilot of the boat’s transmitting, sir, not that Coalson fellow” Peters announced. “Claims he’s unarmed and about legal business.”

  “Respond with Heave To, please. Nothing more. Please inform Mister Breech that I’ll have another shot when he is ready. A bit closer this time.”

  The next shot scorched past the fleeing boat at less than a hundred meters. It was well within range of the four-pounders now and would be an easy target for the six-pound main guns.

  “Send Heave To again, Peters, and inform them that the next shot will be into them, please.”

  “Aye sir. Sir, they’re transmitting encrypted again.”

  The boat was very near the other asteroid now, with Merlin rapidly gaining.

  “If they get round that rock, we’ll lose them for a time,” Gorbett remarked.

  “Mister Breech will put a shot straight up their arse before that,” Alexis muttered. She glanced up to see a shocked look on the man’s face. “Apologies for my language, Mister Gorbett.”

  “I … no doubt he will, sir.”

  “Sail, sir! Coming out from behind the rock.”

  Alexis looked at the tactical monitor and saw the image of a ship coming out from behind the asteroid, its sails already charged and glowing but still furled as the ship waited for the fleeing boat to arrive. She returned to the navigation plot.

  “She appears to have more sail than Merlin, Mister Gorbett.”

  “Barque,” he agreed. “Three masts. If she’s lightly laden and tunes for Dalthus VIII, she’d pull away from us easily even if we had a full sail crew aboard. As it is …” He shrugged. “If she drops sail before we’re in range, we’ll never catch her. Even after, she’ll be gone out of range as soon as she drops them.”

  Alexis studied the plot. It was just bad luck that the gas giant lay in an orbital position that would allow the other ship to run almost directly away from Merlin. With more sail area, the barque would be able to outdistance them unless she carried far more mass.

  The other ship would have to wait for the boat, then let loose her sails. Meanwhile, Merlin would continue to close, but to continue the chase with such a reduced crew, she’d have to pull men from the guns to man the sails — and even then, she’d likely be outdistanced. She opened her mouth to give the order.

  “The boat’s dropped something, sir!”

  A new symbol appeared on the navigation plot, small and rapidly falling behind the accelerating boat and toward Merlin. Alexis had no idea what the object might be, but she was certain Coalson didn’t intend it to be to Merlin’s benefit.

  “Thrusters hard a’port! Starboard battery, in broadside on my mark!” She waited as the Merlin turned to port, presenting her starboard guns to the fleeing boat. “Fire! Roll ship to port! Ninety degrees, put our belly to it!”

  She watched the monitor with satisfaction as four of the six guns in Merlin’s broadside found their mark in the fleeing boat, ripping it open to space. She pushed down the thought that, even if they were suited, four six-pound guns would likely have killed everyone aboard outright, The turn was gradually forcing Merlin off her previous course, bending a slight curve away from her previous path, and the roll had presented her heavier bottom hull and keel to whatever the object was.

  “We’ll come back to course and be after the barque once we’re well past whatever it is they dropped,” Alexis said.

  All of the monitors showing external data went dark.

  “Should have the thrusters cleared in an hour’s time, sir,” Alexis heard over her suit radio. “Sensors’ll take a bit longer.”

  “As quickly as you may, please, Mister Dudgeon,” she said. “We have to get back to that mining installation to retrieve the captain and the rest of the crew.”

  She and Merlin’s carpenter were suited and on the hull, surveying the damage caused by the blast. Virtually all of the small crew aboard Merlin was with them, working feverishly to repair the damage. Alexis eyed the masts and sails ruefully.

  The captain’s going to kill me.

  Merlin’s sails were simply … gone. The fine metal mesh had vaporized and there was no trace of it left. The masts and yards, made of the same tough, radiation-resistant thermoplastic as the hull had fared somewhat better — they were merely twisted and deformed, as though heated and then left to cool. The once smooth surface of Merlin’s hull had changed as well, it was now covered with bumpy, rippling waves.

  Dudgeon had told her a full four millimeters of the keel had vaporized and it would take weeks or a proper dockyard to set her right.

  Kill me and then raise me up to kill me again, the captain will.

  The external sensors were the worst hit, after the sails. Every bit of electronics on the hull was now useless. Even the optical sensors were hard hit, as they had either melted and warped themselves or the heated material of the hull had flowed over them.

  The suited crews, far too few for the amount of work, were busily replacing melted thruster nozzles, peeling back the hull from covered sensors and digging out the sensors themselves to replace them with Merlin’s limited spares. Other members of the crew were busy in the carpenter’s shop, manufacturing new masts and spars to replace the deformed mess the ship’s rigging had become.

  “Do you have any thoughts on what that was?”

  Dudgeon shrugged. “Nuclear of some sort. A mining charge, perhaps? Low residual radiation at least, or we’d be holed up inside still. Lucky we took it on the keel, though. Might’ve made it through the sail locker if we’d taken this head on.” His voice turned grim. “Or the crews on the gundeck if we’d taken it broadside.”

  Alexis shuddered at the thought of that blast of radiation streaming through the open gunports and striking the gun crews. She knelt and ran her hand over the rippled hull, feeling the ridge of a safety line now embedded in the surface.

  “Have to replace all of the lines and running rigging, as well,” Dudgeon commented. “I’d not trust their strength after this.”

  Alexis closed her eyes and pressed her hand firmly to Merlin’s hull. I am so sorry, she silently told the ship. But thank you for keeping my crew safe.

  “Perhaps, Mister Dudgeon,” she said, standing. “Your report would go easier if you told me the parts we won’t have to replace.” She watched his suit helmet turn
to survey Merlin’s devastated hull.

  “Not sure we’ve aught to put on that list, sir.”

  Twenty-Three

  “Send our intent to break orbit, Mister Carew.”

  “Aye sir.” Alexis, once more at the signals station, sent the prepared broadcast that would announce Merlin’s intent to leave orbit and the Dalthus system. Though, with only three other ships in system, all of them merchantmen currently at much lower orbits than Merlin, the announcement was probably unnecessary. She’d been watching the merchants’ plots with interest. One of them was from Hanover, the first foreign ship she’d ever seen, and she suspected it could only be at Dalthus for varrenwood. She wondered if it would be taking on wood from the last tree she’d cut on her grandfather’s lands.

  Two days of work had repaired enough of the damage for Merlin to limp back to the mining operation and recover the ship’s boats and full crew, along with dozens of miners abandoned there by Coalson when he’d fled. A review of all the records recovered had clearly implicated the elder Coalson in the piracy and illegal mining, but there was no indication his son had known about either. Edmon maintained that he’d known there was a mining operation in the belt, but not that it was illegally mining and exporting gallenium.

  None of the records mentioned the other four families who were suspected of receiving the smuggled goods, and so, while the Crown might decide to investigate further, there was no immediate action to be taken.