Alexis Carew: Books 1, 2, and 3

by J. A. Sutherland

  “Good, Miss Carew.”

  “As I’ve said before, the proper form of address, Mister Eades, would be ‘lieutenant’ or ‘mister’, if you please. The Navy makes no distinction for my gender.”

  Eades shrugged. “I am not a part of your Navy, Miss Carew, nor, I assure you, are the French. Perhaps you should respect their customs, as you’ll be with me there for some time.”

  Alexis fought down a flash of anger, but not before snapping. “Perhaps you should respect the customs of the Service that’s providing you transport, sir.”

  “I much prefer that you learn the customs of our soon-to-be hosts,” Eades said. “The French are an odd lot, and easily offended.”

  Alexis took a deep breath and calmed herself. Sniping with Eades did no good at all.

  “I fear I’ll never remember these things. At home on Dalthus, we only ever used a single fork at any meal.” She stared at the glittering array of utensils laid out before her. It would have been unthinkable to send that much silverware back to the kitchen and expect their cook, Julia, to wash it after every meal.

  “Yes, well, the French Republican Court is not a colonial pig-farm, now is it?”

  Alexis raised her gaze to stare at Eades. Dalthus might be a colony and her grandfather proud to name himself a farmer, but he, along with the three thousand other First Settlers owned the entire star system of Dalthus.

  “If those at this Court are as ill-mannered as yourself, Mister Eades, I believe I shall prefer the pigs.”

  “And I would happily send you back to them,” Eades said, “but if this plan is to succeed, your presence is required at the Court. Not only your presence, but that you impress the Court.”

  “I almost wish you would send me back, Mister Eades, or at least allow me my Naval career in peace.” Alexis gestured at the table setting. “I do not find this impressive.”

  Eades glared at her, his normally impassive face actually showing disapproval. “You know Commodore Balestra of the Berry March fleet; you’ve met her, spoken to her. The French will listen to you and your opinion of her, and of those worlds, only if you are able to seem, yourself, of some note. Something more than a young girl from a barely civilized colony world.”

  “For a diplomat, Mister Eades, you are far from diplomatic.”

  Alexis sighed again. Her time spent with Eades was always trying, perhaps because he was always demanding she learn the most absurd things without ever explaining the whole reason. Why was it so important that she impress the French? Why did they need to impress the French at all? She understood so little of his reasons, or even the reasons for the war New London found itself in, that she found it difficult to care about more than her ship, the crew, and distant friends.

  Yes, she’d met Commodore Balestra, commander of a Hanoverese fleet in the worlds known as La Baie Marche, the Berry March. Though the worlds were part of Hanover, with whom her own nation of New London was at war, the worlds themselves had once been part of the French Republic, and the people there still thought of themselves as French.

  Alexis had spent some time on one of those worlds as a prisoner of the Hanoverese and had grown to know the commodore. Something Eades hoped to take advantage of in his plans to convince the French Republic to declare war on Hanover and attempt to regain their former possessions.

  “I am no diplomat at all, Carew,” Eades said. For the first time since she’d met him, Alexis noticed something distinctive about Malcom Eades — his eyes suddenly became the most frightening thing she’d ever seen. “I am, in fact, the very opposite of a diplomat. No, Carew, I make things happen for my Queen — and in this case, what I shall make happen is that the Republic of France shall join the war against Hanover, Commodore Balestra and the worlds of the Berry March shall revolt against Hanover, and the Republic of Hanover shall find itself … no more.”

  Alexis licked suddenly dry lips. She’d never heard such utter, certain hatred expressed in so calm a tone.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, almost whispering. “I don’t even understand why we’re at war with Hanover to begin with.”

  Eades’ brow furrowed. He cocked his head to one side and opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. He sat back and regarded her as though seeing her for the first time.

  “That is a shocking degree of ignorance.”

  Alexis clenched her teeth to keep from snapping at him. God help us if he were a diplomat … the kingdom would be doomed.

  “Mister Eades,” she said instead, “I was raised roughly on a colony planet, as you know. There was quite enough for me to learn on Dalthus about running my grandfather’s lands, so you must forgive me for not following whatever events led to this war. My time in the Navy has consisted of some months tracking pirates aboard Merlin and some time more aboard Hermione. My encounters with the Hanoverese have consisted of Commodore Balestra and her staff, who were quite kind to me and, as it turns out, are French and not Hanoverese at all, and a Hanoverese lieutenant whose ship I took with a ruse — he, though a bit lecherous, was more a buffoon than the evil you seem to see in them.

  “Moreover, I have a bare three years in Naval service. It’s been all I could do to learn the Navy’s ways, much less anything about the wider universe. And, in case you had not noticed, sir, the Navy itself is not at all prone to explaining.”

  Eades was silent. “No,” he said finally. “No, I suppose it is not.” He poured himself a glass of wine and took a sip. “Do you know a thing about New London’s history at all?”

  Alexis flushed, feeling a bit foolish, for she would have to admit that she did know only a very little.

  “The price of varrenwood, the shipping rates for grain … the times to plant and harvest, even the assay process for a new mine, Mister Eades,” she admitted finally. “These were always far more important than some dry history that would never …” She closed her eyes, realizing how silly it sounded. “Would never have an impact on my life.”

  “If you wish a career in the Navy, Carew,” Eades said, “rather than simply a position, I suggest you begin paying history more heed.” He ran a hand over his chin. “Very well, then, I will explain. At least as much as one can in a short time.

  “I’m sure you know, at least, that the systems we call the Core Worlds — the longest settled and most developed — were once colonies themselves?”

  Alexis nodded.

  “Good. Well, the entire history of mankind in the stars is likely too much to cover this evening, but … do you at least know your ship’s history? Perhaps that will give you the correct perspective.”

  “Shrewsbury’s?”

  “Yes.” He shook his head. “No, I can see from your eyes that you don’t, and that surprises me. There is a reason this particular ship was selected for this particular mission. That bronze plaque near the airlock, where they do all the folderol of coming aboard, do you know what it means?”

  Alexis was reasonably certain that no one aboard Shrewsbury would care for the ceremony of piping officers aboard and saluting the ensign at the airlock being referred to as ‘folderol’, but she had to admit she didn’t know the plaque’s purpose. There were so many Naval traditions and their meanings that she didn’t yet know. She’d seen the plaque in question — it bore the ship’s name, HMS. Shrewsbury, and the names of several hundred men, along with the odd inscription We Who Stood. She’d assumed it might be the ship’s first crew, but now felt she’d been very mistaken. She was certain, however, that she’d have had a chance to learn it if Eades had not been so jealous of her time.

  “Shrewsbury is a Named Ship, Carew,” Eades said, “I chose her for this visit to the French Republic as carefully as I chose you. Perhaps more so.” Eades cleared his throat.

  “At the end of the Second Colonial Independence War, when we — that is to say the major Core Worlds, New London, the French, Ho-Hsi, and Deutschsterne — were able to knock the forces of Earth, Terra Nova, and Nueva Oportunidad back and retain our independence, a la
rge portion of the Deutschsterne fleet and dozens of systems rebelled.” He met her eyes steadily. “This was hundreds of years ago, of course, but the ramifications are felt today. The rebellion was led from the Hanover system. Hanover was a political colony, with all that it implies, you understand?”

  Alexis nodded.

  After darkspace was discovered and travel to other star systems became possible, the first attempts at colonization had been disasters. The first colony worlds, Terra Nova and Nueva Oportunidad, had been an odd attempt to mix all of the cultures of Earth into some sort of utopian ideal. The result had been years of factional battles and bloody civil wars as different groups tried to gain superiority on the new planets.

  In the interim, exploration went on and it was discovered that habitable planets were not so rare as originally believed.

  The second wave of colonization, much, much larger than the first, had consisted of homogeneous groups. Religious and political groups fleeing to set up their own versions of utopia were among them, along with groups that simply wanted a bit of room between them and their neighbors.

  The result on most of the cultural colonies, as the political and religious settlements were referred to, had been years of factional battles and bloody civil wars as those supposedly homogeneous groups fragmented points of doctrine and philosophy.

  Humanity, it seemed, very much enjoyed killing each other.

  “Settling new lands has always been a safety valve to get rid of those with extreme or unpopular beliefs,” Eades continued, “and it generally works well to this day — at least from the perspective of those of us in the Core who don’t have to deal with them anymore. If a group can pay the survey and transport costs to claim a system, good riddance to them and let them run their world as they see fit. They often fall to quarreling amongst themselves over some obscure point of dogma and leave their neighbors well alone until they come to their senses and want services only the Core can provide.”

  Eades sighed.

  “Hanover was an exception,” he said. “That particular group settled several systems close together and managed to spread their ideas to their neighbors. It was Deutschsterne’s bad luck that those systems comprised quite a large part of their industrial worlds. When Hanover rebelled it was a complete surprise to Deutschsterne — and it was coordinated in such a way that …” He paused.

  “The goal of those systems, Miss Carew, was not simply their own independence from Deutschsterne. That might have been understandable, but they wanted more. They intended to not only rebel, but to conquer.” He raised his eyebrows. “Conquer everything, it seems. They believe, truly believe, that they’re meant to rule all of humanity. A horribly ambitious goal, but they were well on their way to succeeding, and by the most … dishonorable means.”

  Eades poured her a glass of wine and set it in front of her. Alexis raised it and took a small sip.

  “You’re aware of the Abbentheren Accords?”

  Alexis shook her head.

  “No, of course not,” Eades muttered. “Why should I expect you know a thing other than —” Eades shook his head in disgust. “A bit of study would do you no harm, Miss Carew.

  “In any case, the Abbenthern Accords go into great detail about how warfare may be waged and the actions of Hanover in that war were the catalyst for Abbentheren,” Eades said. “It is unthinkable today to bombard a planet from orbit in any way. That is because we’ve already seen what such warfare can do. Hanover struck the Deutschsterne capital world first … their entire political leadership wiped out, along with seven million people in the capital city … all with no more effort than nudging a rock out of its orbit and dropping it into the planet’s gravity well.”

  Alexis gasped at the thought of the destruction such a thing would cause.

  Eades nodded. “Hanover took a very … pragmatic view toward conquest after that success. The ancient Romans had a policy in their own warfare … Murum Aries Attigit, they called it, the ram has touched the wall. If an enemy city capitulated before the battering ram touched their walls, they’d be spared. After? No. Hanover would demand capitulation and accept surrender, but —” Eades shrugged. “— once the rocks were in motion, well, murum aries attigit.”

  Alexis stared at Eades, unable to believe such an act would ever be committed.

  “Abbentheren was a beautiful world, if the preserved images are to be believed,” Eades said, taking another sip of wine. “But the ram touched the wall there, Carew.” He snorted. “Many, many rams.

  “All of this, of course, was against Deutschsterne — a civil war, of no concern to New London or the French King.” He smiled at her look of shock. “Yes, Carew, a monarch. The Grand Republic of France Among the Stars was once the Grand Kingdom, you see.

  “Perhaps Hanover couldn’t find a suitable rock, I don’t know, but they changed tactics and chose assassination when they decided to expand their list of enemies. Virtually the entire royal family of the Grand Kingdom was assassinated overnight.”

  Eades drained his glass and filled it again.

  “As was New London’s,” he said. He gave her a bitter smile. “It was not the Foreign Office’s finest hour to have missed that bit coming. Nor the Palace Guards’ for allowing it to happen. To fail your Monarch in such a way, Carew … it is a thing that burns through generations.” Eades took a deep breath. “It sounds a bit like a fairy tale, I suppose, but both kingdoms had clear claimants — the last clear claimants, mind you — to their thrones safely where they could not be reached by assassins … aboard ship, in darkspace, serving in their respective navies.

  “Both kingdoms were in utter disarray, of course, with no clear chain of command or leadership. The Hanoverese began rolling over systems one after the other. Once word spread of what happened to those systems that resisted … well, one cannot blame people for wanting to live, I suppose.

  “You’re wondering, of course, what all this has to do with Shrewsbury? Well, I’m getting to that.” He filled her glass, though Alexis did not recall having drunk the wine. “Someone, it’s unclear who, felt that it was necessary to get the two crown princes together so that they could discuss an alliance against Hanover — princes, still, you see, for there’d been no way to stage a coronation for either. I suppose someone might have thought to just have a ship’s captain do it, things being what they were at the time.” He shrugged. “As I said, all was in disarray.

  “In any case, both fleets were in such a state that when the ships the princes were on came together, the rest of both fleets were nowhere to be found. Either not yet arrived or not having received the message to gather. And so it was just the French ship, Belle Nuit, and New London’s … HMS Shrewsbury.” He drank again. “I told you I’d get to it.

  “The New London and French fleets may not have been able to find the meeting place at the appropriate time, but the same cannot be said for the Hanoverese. No sooner had meetings begun between the two princes, than seven Hanoverese ships arrived in-system. At the time, our Prince Henry was aboard Belle Nuit chatting with the French fellow, I forget his name.

  “So, then, there was Shrewsbury’s captain, Merewode Shetley — his name I remember, you see — with his Crown Prince aboard a French ship, seven Hanoverese ships bearing down on them. A good mix the Hanoverese sent, at least according to those who’d know about such things — enough fast ships so that they couldn’t escape and enough guns so that they couldn’t fight. A bad business all around.

  “Captain Shetley sent one signal to Belle Nuit, Miss Carew — We Shall Stand.

  “Then he put Shrewsbury about, sailed into the Hanoverese, and damned if he didn’t stop them … or at least damage and delay them long enough for Belle Nuit to get well away. The French logs show Shrewsbury still firing hours later when Belle Nuit finally sailed out of sight.” He took a sip of his wine. “And that is the last record of Shrewsbury, Captain Shetley, or any of his crew. So Shrewsbury became a Named Ship. One of seventeen in New London’s history.
If this particular incarnation were to be destroyed today, the very next ship launched would be so christened, for there is always a Shrewsbury in Service to Her Majesty.”

  Eades raised his glass and nodded to her. “I may not respect all of your Navy’s customs, Miss Carew, but I do, never doubt, respect its deeds.”

  Alexis stared at him, unsure of what to say or if he was done speaking.

  Eades sighed. “We got Henry back, of course, our Queen’s many-times great-grandfather. The French had the poor judgment to misplace their prince some few years later in a battle, and he’d had the even poorer judgment to not spend that time rantipoling with every girl he could lay hands on and generating an heir or six — so they had no clear heir to the throne. Had the unexpected good sense, though, not to start a dynastic struggle in the middle of a war, and somehow managed to make themselves a republic in rather short time.

  “We — New London, the French, and what was left of Deutschsterne — managed to stop Hanover and force them to the treaty table. Word of Abbentheren and other systems had spread and they were faced with nearly the entire bloody universe coming in against them, so they agreed to stop the war, give back what systems they’d taken, save those of Deutschsterne, and sign the Abbentheren Accords. That was … oh, I don’t know exactly, seventeen or so wars with them ago?” He shrugged. “My family has served the Monarchy since that time, Miss Carew. Since my own many-times-great grandfather failed to recognize the danger Hanover represented to them.”

  Eades picked up the wine bottle and appeared puzzled when he found it empty.

  “I will see Hanover ended, Miss Carew.”

  He met Alexis’ eyes and she shivered at his look.

  “That’s enough history for today, I suppose,” he said. “I believe I hear Monsieur Courtemanche stirring and lord knows you require more practice at dance.”

  Four

  Alexis left Eades, Courtemanche, and the flag cabin sometime later with much to think about. Eades’ tale — and the emotion he’d shown, far different from his usual smugness and disdain — had shed new light on this mission. She wondered, though, if the man wasn’t placing too much importance on her and her ability to convince the French to join with New London against Hanover.