Alexis Carew: Books 1, 2, and 3

by J. A. Sutherland

  More, she feared what the crew might do in reaction to that. They’d managed to avoid participating in one mutiny and were on their way home. She didn’t want them to face that decision a second time.

  “Sail! Off the starboard beam, down fifteen. Might be a sloop or brig, sir. Two masts, ship-rigged.”

  “Thank you, Scholer.” Alexis examined the navigation plot. If her calculations were correct, even reasonably so, they were certainly no more than a few days from Penduli, well inside New London space. The winds seemed to indicate that she’d done a better job this time, as they were running straight along her course. Without a storm to disrupt them, darkspace winds tended to run directly towards the nearest star system, so there was something there, at least. The new ship was almost directly off their starboard side and a few degrees below their line of sail.

  She smiled, allowing herself a moment to feel relief. Even if she’d gotten the navigation wrong, the new ship would be able to tell her where they were. “Send the men out to the sails, Mister Lain. Bring us eighty degrees starboard and down ten.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Alexis rested her hip against the navigation plot and closed her eyes. On closing courses, they’d have, perhaps, a half an hour before they could read the other ships signals and find out how close to Penduli they were. She stretched her shoulders, feeling them loosen. Now that they were so close to being home, she was able to relax a little.

  The half hour passed quickly and when she judged they were close enough to begin exchanging signals, or at least identify each other, she crossed to the signals station. “All right, Silk,” she said to the spacer there. “Raise our colors, New London over Hanover.” She smiled at him. “Don’t get the order wrong or we’ll find a very different welcome.”

  He smiled back. “Aye, sir.” And a moment later, “Colors are lit, sir. New London over Hanover.”

  “Very good, Silk.” She crossed back to the navigation plot to wait on the other ship to identify itself. “As soon as they respond, please do think of a polite way to ask them where in hell we are, won’t you?”

  Silk laughed. “Aye, sir, that I’ll —”

  Alexis turned as he fell silent and felt a sharp jab of fear at the look on his face. “Out with it, Silk! Report!” she said, crossing to his station.

  “Sail’s raised colors, sir.” He turned to her, eyes wide. “Hanover.”

  Alexis looked at his screen and saw the other ship’s masts and yards steadily lit with the blue and gold of Hanover. Not alternating with New London’s red and white, to indicate a prize, as her own were.

  “Come about, Mister Lain!” she yelled. “One eighty to port and lively now!”

  “Aye, sir!” Lain replied, rushing to the sail locker.

  Damn you, Delaine! It was him, she knew. How she knew, she couldn’t say, but she was certain of it. What other Hanoverese ship would be this deep in New London space all but waiting for her? She clenched her fists and watched the plot as Trau Wunsch turned away from the other ship. First to run with the wind, then further to take it on her port beam, running directly away from the other ship. That would slow his closing, but not stop it. He’s the legs on us for any point of sail, damn it! Trau Wunsch wasn’t designed for speed, she was too bulky and lumbered along like a fat sow at the best of times. Damaged as she was, they’d been making barely two or three knots.

  Alexis stared at the plot, willing some solution to come to her, but there was none. No matter where she turned, the other ship would be the faster and would surely close with them. She’d turn and fight, but that would be useless as well — with but two guns left and only a few charges.

  And those so old I doubt their capacitors would hold a charge. She cursed her ship’s former masters, who’d left it so defenseless. Would I fire into him if I could?

  Alexis drew a deep breath. Can’t escape and can’t fight.

  “Come back ninety to starboard, Mister Lain. We’ll run for Penduli, or whatever system lies before us, and hope for rescue before we’re caught.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Full sail, Mister Lain. Stunsails and stays if there are any in the locker. I know the mizzen and foremasts are but stubs, but rig something.” She clenched her teeth. “Send the lads aft and have them fart off the bloody stern if you think it’ll gain us anything.”

  Lain looked at her in surprise. “I … aye, sir.”

  Alexis kept watch over the navigation plot while the minutes passed. Jaw tight, arms crossed, she stared at the plot with narrowed eyes. She resisted the urge to have the log thrown again to determine their speed, checking the time instead and seeing that it was but five minutes since the last throw. It would give her no good information for the chase, in any case. It was simply something to do other than stare at the plot and watch the slow, inexorable creep of the other ship growing closer. The fat oval of its estimated weapons range, shorter fore and aft where it likely had smaller guns and wider to the sides, was far too close for her comfort. It won’t be long before he could turn and strike with his broadside. The turn would slow him, but he’d soon make up the lost distance. Will you fire, Delaine?

  “Signal, sir,” Silk said. “Heave To then … not a proper signal, sir, it’s all spelled out, but just some gibberish … m-a-b-i-c-h-e-t-t-e …”

  Alexis laughed in spite of the tension she felt. She’d known before, but this left no doubt that it was Delaine behind her. “Ma bichette,” she said.

  “That mean what it sounds like, Mister Carew?” Lain asked, his face growing dark and angry.

  “‘My little doe’, Mister Lain.” She sighed and her smile fell. “He is French, after all.”

  Lain flushed. “Well … that’s all right, then … I suppose.”

  Alexis looked around the quarterdeck, fixing each man in her mind. She closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them. For a moment, she considered putting on a vacsuit and going out on the hull. If she were to leap off the stern, Delaine would surely see and stop for her before she was affected too much by being adrift in darkspace. The delay might allow Trau Wunsch and her lads to be well away.

  No, there’s no telling what Neals will do if I’m not aboard.

  “Mister Lain?”

  “Sir?”

  “Take the best gun we have — one that’s not likely to destroy our own ship if it’s fired, that is — take it to the stern gallery along with the gunner and whatever shot you can find. I find this pursuit troublesome and should like it slowed. A few bolts into his sails, perhaps, once in range?”

  Lain nodded. “Aye, sir. I’ll see it done.”

  “Lain,” Alexis said. “Be sure it’s into his sails, I don’t …”

  Lain nodded again. “Aye, sir. I understand.”

  Alexis returned her gaze to the plot, jumping in surprise when she noticed Lain at her side again. She hadn’t thought so much time had passed.

  “All set, sir,” he said. “Coad and Lufkin are on the gun. They’ll aim fer his sails when you order it.”

  “Thank you, Mister Lain.”

  “Sail!”

  Alexis rushed to the tactical console. “Where away, Scholer?” she asked, staring at the image.

  “Fine on the port bow, down twenty, sir. Large sail.” He ran his fingers over the image, tracing three blobs of light. “I make it a frigate, sir.”

  Alexis almost cried out with relief. “Port ten, down fifteen, Mister Lain.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  The frigate surely belonged to her own Navy, there couldn’t possibly be two Hanoverese ships this deep in New London space, and it would see Trau Wunsch soon if it hadn’t already. All she had to do was keep sailing closer and the pursuing ship would find itself well outmatched. Delaine’s ship.

  “Make a signal to the frigate, Silk,” she said. “Enemy In Sight and keep it flying.”

  “They won’t be able to read it for a bit, Mister Carew, should I wait so the Hannie don’t see —”

  “Fly it now,” Alexis
said quietly. She closed her eyes. I do not bluff, Delaine.

  “Aye, sir.”

  She waited, trying not to count the minutes.

  “The Hannie’s come about, sir. She’s running.”

  Alexis released a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding and opened her eyes. Had she done the right thing? No matter, it was done. If there were consequences she’d accept them.

  “Take down Enemy In Sight, Silk. It’ll do that frigate no good now.” She saw Lain staring at her. “There are many duties, Mister Lain. The path between them is not always clear, it seems.”

  Lain nodded. “You’re sure it were ‘doe’ he called you and not t’other?”

  Alexis smiled. “Quite sure.”

  “Glad he’ll get away, then. Good man, that Frenchie lieutenant.”

  “Yes.” She watched the line of the other ship’s retreat on the plot for a moment. “Silk, make Request Assistance, if you please, and prepare the signals to explain our state to that frigate.” She grimaced. “And I suppose I should send someone to inform Captain Neals that he is rescued.”

  Given Trau Wunsch’s condition, the approaching frigate, H.M.S. Vestal, ordered her to heave-to and leave it to the frigate to maneuver into range for docking. The larger ship unstepped her foremast and settled along Trau Wunsch’s port side before extending a boarding tube.

  Alexis made her way to the crowded mess deck and port airlock. Neals and the other officers were there waiting as well, but none of them acknowledged her presence. “Captain Neals …” she began, but stopped. What could she say, really? He’d hated her before and their flight from Giron would certainly not have improved his opinion of her. Come to that, she despised him as well — perhaps the best that could be hoped for was that they’d all be sent off to different ships now and never meet again.

  The lock cycled and the hatch slid open to reveal a party of marines, spacers, and a lieutenant from Vestal. He took a step forward then actually rocked back on his heels, a grimace of disgust on his face.

  Yes, I suppose we are a bit ripe. Though large for cargo, Trau Wunsch had been designed for a much smaller crew. Alexis and the others were used to it by now, but it must come as a shock to someone boarding for the first time.

  Alexis stepped forward with a smile. “Welcome aboard, lieutenant. I must say we’re quite glad to see you.”

  “Enough, Carew!” Neals stepped forward as well. “Is this enough to satisfy your ‘honor’, Lieutenant Williard?”

  “Yes, sir, I think we may safely say our parole is at an end.”

  “Good enough,” Neals said. “Come aboard, lieutenant.”

  “Lieutenant Lakes, sir,” the officer from Vestal said, breathing through his mouth as he entered the ship. His men entered as well, struggling to find space on the crowded deck.

  Neals stepped past him and stood in the lock’s hatch, turning to face the mess deck. Lakes turned to face him, clearly puzzled. “Captain?”

  Neals locked eyes with Alexis and she slumped. No … it’s not over, is it?

  “Arrest them, Lieutenant Lakes,” Neals said.

  “Sir?”

  “Every man-jack of them, this instant.” Neals raised a hand to point at Alexis. “But especially that one.” He smiled. “The charge is mutiny.”

  Twenty-One

  “Be seated and come to order! Captains Crandall, Hazlewood, and Barks presiding in the Court Martial of Ordinary Spacer Alexis Arleen Carew! Charged in violation of the Articles of War!”

  Alexis seated herself and looked around the compartment that would serve as courtroom for her trial. The three Post Captains who would be acting as judges sat against the far wall, resplendent and severe in their full dress uniforms. She knew Captain Crandall from her brief meeting aboard his ship, but nothing about the others, save what her defense counsel, Lieutenant Humphry, had told her, and that next to nothing. She knew little more about Humphry himself, as she’d only seen the man three times in the week she’d been back aboard Penduli Station.

  In fact, she’d spent more time with Lyulph Grandy than she had with the lieutenant appointed to represent her. Grandy, who couldn’t even be in the courtroom, as space was reserved solely to naval officers, had promised to visit her during recesses, if he was allowed.

  She glanced at Humphry, seated next to her at the defense table, but the man stared straight ahead, not meeting her eyes. She looked next to her right, where the prosecutor sat. Lieutenant Lonsdale appeared ready to proceed, shoulders squared and tablet in hand. Behind him Hermione’s officers sat in the first row of the gallery, Captain Neals closest to her. None of them spared her a single glance.

  She clenched her fists on the table in front of her and bowed her head. They’d not even maintained her rank as midshipman, instead accepting Neals’ insistence that he had ordered her disrated.

  And not even rated Able, but only Ordinary, as though I had no skills at all. I’m surprised he didn’t insist on Landsman.

  It surprised her that she could be stung by such a thing when she was about to be tried for offenses, the least of which could result in a death sentence. But she was proud of what she’d done, what she’d learned of the ships in such a short time. To have it all ignored and mean nothing was somehow worse than the charges themselves.

  “Thank you,” Captain Crandall, the Court’s head, said. “Read the charges, if you please.”

  “The accused shall rise!”

  Alexis stood and stared levelly at the bulkhead behind the three captains.

  “Alexis Arleen Carew, charged in violation of the Articles of War, the specification as follows:

  “Article the Third, if any officer, spacer, soldier, or other person of the fleet, shall give, hold, or entertain intelligence to or with any enemy or rebel, without leave from the Queen's Majesty, or the Lord High Admiral, or the commissioners for executing the office of Lord High Admiral, commander in chief, or his commanding officer, every such person so offending, and being thereof convicted by the sentence of a court martial, shall be punished with death!

  “Article the Eighteenth, if any person in or belonging to the fleet shall make or endeavor to make any mutinous assembly upon any pretense whatsoever, every person offending herein, and being convicted thereof by the sentence of the court martial, shall suffer death: and if any person in or belonging to the fleet shall utter any words of sedition or mutiny, he shall suffer death, or such other punishment as a court martial shall deem him to deserve: and if any officer, spacer, or soldier on or belonging to the fleet, shall behave himself with contempt to his superior officer, being in the execution of his office, he shall be punished according to the nature of his offense by the judgment of a court martial!

  “Article the Nineteenth, if any person in the fleet shall conceal any traitorous or mutinous practice or design, being convicted thereof by the sentence of a court martial, he shall suffer death, or any other punishment as a court martial shall think fit; and if any person, in or belonging to the fleet, shall conceal any traitorous or mutinous words spoken by any, to the prejudice of Her Majesty or government, or any words, practice, or design, tending to the hindrance of the service, and shall not forthwith reveal the same to the commanding officer, or being present at any mutiny or sedition, shall not use his utmost endeavors to suppress the same, he shall be punished as a court martial shall think he deserves!

  “Article the Twenty-first, If any officer, spacer, soldier or other person in the fleet, shall strike any of his superior officers, or draw, or offer to draw, or lift up any weapon against him, being in the execution of his office, on any pretense whatsoever, every such person being convicted of any such offense, by the sentence of a court martial, shall suffer death; and if any officer, spacer, soldier or other person in the fleet, shall presume to quarrel with any of his superior officers, being in the execution of his office, or shall disobey any lawful command of any of his superior officers; every such person being convicted of any such offense, by the sentence of a court
martial, shall suffer death, or such other punishment, as shall, according to the nature and degree of his offense, be inflicted upon him by the sentence of a court martial!

  “Alexis Arleen Carew, you are so charged! Be seated and the prosecution shall present evidence!”

  Alexis sat as Lonsdale rose at the other table. They can only hang me once, I suppose.

  “The prosecution now calls to the stand Captain Tylere Neals,” Lonsdale said. He waited while Neals made his way to the chair set aside for witnesses and swore to tell the truth. “Captain Neals, would you be so kind as to relate to the Court the events leading up to the mutiny on H.M.S. Hermione? Strictly as they pertain to the accused, if you please.”

  “Of course,” Neals said. He settled himself comfortably in the witness chair and nodded to the three captains who sat as judges.

  “Easy, Carew,” Lieutenant Humphry whispered to her. He nodded to her hands, which were clenched and white knuckled on the defense table. “Confidence and restraint will serve you best.”

  Alexis forced her hands to relax and looked straight ahead, struggling to remain impassive. There was now no man she hated nearly so much as she despised Captain Neals — and now she’d have to sit silently and listen to him spew his lies and accusations.

  Neals cleared his throat. “The crew of Hermione was always a surly, undisciplined lot, you understand. I did my best to bring them into line after taking command, but there was an undercurrent. A bad element amongst the crew … too much new blood from the gaols and assizes at the start of the war, I think. My officers and I were making some progress.” He nodded toward Hermione’s surviving lieutenant and midshipmen who were seated in the gallery. “Kept the men busy and out of mischief. But when Carew came aboard, I noticed a decided change.”