HMS Nightingale (Alexis Carew Book 4)

by J. A. Sutherland

  “Piracy, Mister Stoltzfus, murder and piracy. Add to that planetary attacks —”

  “We will not accuse any of the attacks on our farmsteads.”

  “Not on Man’s Fall, you bloody fool! The attacks on Al Jadiq!”

  Stoltzfus stared at her open mouthed. It was, perhaps, the first time she’d manage to stop his never-ending mantra of “internal matter”.

  “You hadn’t heard about those? Two of their ships destroyed in orbit and three mining charges set off in the city itself. Men, women, and children slaughtered — and not your children here on Man’s Fall, who you’re apparently quite willing to sacrifice to keep this madness quiet, but children who’re wholly innocent of whatever it is you’ve harbored here.”

  Alexis was happy to see Stoltzfus wince at that.

  “That’s a declaration of war against the Jadiqis, sir, and the Crown won’t stand for it. Harboring the pirates was bad —”

  “We haven’t —”

  “For god’s sake shut your mouth and listen, man! A Marchant Company ship was destroyed at Al Jadiq. Surely you’re not so far removed here that you’ve forgotten what their influence is like? What you say no longer matters; it’s what the Crown suspects! I believe you — I believe you’ve not actively aided them, at least, but it won’t be me making the ruling, will it? They’re based here, I know that for a certainty, and what do you think the odds are of some coreward admiral sent to investigate and believing you’ve not been in on it from the start? Piracy loses you your charter, Mister Stoltzfus, but attacking another colony? Sir, that condemns you all — the least you could hope for your people would be a term of indenture to make reparations to the Jadiqis …” Alexis leaned forward, hoping the man was hearing her. “For you and the other elders of your church, it’ll be the noose. All of that assuming these … whoever they are … don’t kill you themselves. Those we captured spoke of eliminating the heretics, and just who do you suppose the candidates for that might be?”

  Stoltzfus’ head drooped. His shoulders began to shake. Alexis gave him a moment and when he finally looked up there were tears in his eyes.

  “The merchants wouldn’t stop,” he whispered.

  Alexis wasn’t at all sure what that had to do with anything, but she remained silent, face impassive and staring at Stoltzfus, willing him to go on. Once he started telling it, she felt, it would all come out and make some sense of this mess.

  “They wouldn’t. We told them to stay away … we asked your Navy to keep them away.” His look was accusing, then he shook his head. “Well, when we first arrived here, no one came, but after the Jadiqis settled? They bought so much and the merchants thought we should as well, since they were coming this way then. We told them no, but they kept coming. All we wanted was to live here in peace as God wills.”

  Alexis ground her teeth, willing him to get to the meat of it, but held her tongue.

  “There are those among us who still feel anger at the transgressions of those not of our faith — they have difficulty accepting that everyone must follow their own path. The merchants came … tempting us, testing us, with the devil’s wares. Tempting our children away to sail with them, as well. We’re a small community, lieutenant — and young people, everywhere, are … impatient. Some left with those merchants and it was difficult for us. Both because they were gone and because of where they went.”

  Stoltzfus frowned.

  “You’re young, yourself, lieutenant, and have no children, I expect?”

  Alexis shook her head.

  “And no faith, you’ve said.” He held up his hand. “I mean nothing derogatory by that, lieutenant, we each have our own path. Is there something, though, that you hold dear? Something larger than yourself which you’d sacrifice for?”

  It surprised Alexis a bit that the first thing she thought of at Stoltzfus’ words were not her family lands on Dalthus. Oh, she loved her grandfather and those lands, and the people on them, as well, but what sprang to her mind at the question was an image of the Navy — not the admirals and captains she reported to, or the ships and fleets, but of the crews she’d served with and had the honor to command.

  The Merlins who’d welcomed her into their world and taught her so much. The Hermiones who’d stood by her after the mutiny and their captivity — even the mutineers themselves. The Belials who’d stood with her against such horrible odds, even at the cost of their own lives, because she’d told them it was needful. Even the Nightingales, motley flotsam of the fleet that they were, for they’d begun to show themselves quite well, now that she had their measure and stopped coddling them.

  The Navy had changed her, no doubt. Perhaps it had revealed to her the larger picture than just those lands and people on Dalthus — that there were others, equally in need of someone to stand between them and those who’d prey on them. Why that should be her, she didn’t know, but she did feel, having stood with such men once, she couldn’t bear to leave them to it alone.

  “Yes,” Stoltzfus said, dragging her from her thoughts, “I see that there is.” His face hardened a bit. “Now imagine if you will that someone tempted those you love the most into the greatest evil you can imagine.”

  He sighed.

  “I and the other elders believe those men, the merchants, were the tools of God, sent to test our faith. Others thought they were tools of the devil sent to tempt us. A fine distinction for one not of our teachings to understand, perhaps, but an important one. To fail a test means we are not yet ready … to fall into temptation means we are lost.”

  Stoltzfus straightened his shoulders as though bracing himself.

  “Not everyone in our fold was born to the faith — some came to it later in life. Some of those, not the most faithful, perhaps, have been part of your Navy.”

  Alexis nodded. She could understand that. For someone who’d been aboard ship in the war, with shot flying and splintering about, shards of laser blasts puncturing suits, comrades falling all around — the call of such a faith might resonate. She frowned. With such a lack of technology, though, it might also be a place to hide. Somewhere that there’d be no constant use of tablets and recorded transactions to show one’s identity. Men with a past or men who’d run.

  “There is no one who feels the need to prove himself so much as the convert, nor any so zealous. Overzealous, I suppose would be the better description.

  “I swear to you, lieutenant, that neither I nor any of the elders knew what these men planned. Perhaps they didn’t know themselves, they simply acted.” He sighed again. “The next time a merchant landed — right there in our town square, mind you, not even in the distant field — and spread their wares out … technology, labor-saving, power generators … everything we’d chosen to leave behind.”

  Alexis winced, picturing it.

  “They rushed them and took the boat, then the ship.”

  “The crew?” Alexis prompted. “The merchant crew? What happened to them?”

  Stoltzfus closed his eyes.

  “These men felt they should not … could not allow for witnesses to their acts.”

  “And you did nothing to stop them,” Alexis said.

  “We are a peaceful people, lieutenant, we do not believe in violence. There was nothing we could —”

  “These were men of your peaceful, non-violent community, Mister Stoltzfus, murdering a merchant crew in your own system. Right in your bloody town square, if I’m hearing you properly.” She took a deep breath to control her temper. “And you stood by and did nothing.”

  “Our community does not believe in confrontation, lieutenant, but neither do we blindly accept transgressions of that nature.” He looked down, paused for a long time, then met her eyes again. “Sadly, I can see now that our ways only …” He frowned. “Not encouraged, but perhaps forced these men farther along their path. We responded to their acts of violence by removing them from our community.”

  “If you don’t believe in force, then how did you get them to leave?”

/>   “They quickly found that no one would trade with them, there was no help for their farmsteads, save from others who had participated in the attack, no communication from the rest of us, even.” He shrugged. “It is usually an effective method of bringing someone back to the faith, lieutenant. To be isolated and alone is not the natural state of man — we long for our community and the knowledge that we are not alone.

  “As I said, in this case our ways were not effective. There were too many, I think, involved at the start, and so by removing them from our community we simply forced them to create their own. They traded amongst themselves, assisted each other, and held their own services at which their zealousness only grew.

  “I suppose if history shows us there is anyone more zealous than the convert … it is the reformer. They determined that God means for us not merely to eschew these things, but to actively oppose them. To attack and destroy the means for man’s trespass upon the face of Heaven. One of these men was a technician in your Navy and understood the machines you use to move yourselves to Heaven and back.”

  “The gallenium,” Alexis said, finally understanding. The targeting of gallenium shipments, but no evidence of them being sold elsewhere, along with the damage to the helm on that first ore carrier Nightingale had encountered and the disappearance of the Silver Leaf. “He’d worked on repairing those consoles, so knew how to turn off the safeguards. Not discovered some way to transition away from a Lagrangian point, but how to force a ship to transition outside of a Lagrangian point.” She swallowed hard and shuddered, wondering if it was the whole crew of the ship who’d been willing to take that act instead of being captured, or if there’d been just one fanatic on the quarterdeck who’d taken them all Dutchman with him. “Their goal was never to profit from taking the ore, it was to destroy it.”

  Stoltzfus nodded.

  “And the crews, man? If they sent those ships to transitioning outside of … what did they do with the crews?”

  Alexis fumed as Stoltzfus closed his eyes and bowed his head.

  “No one knows what happens to a ship that transitions outside a Lagrangian point.” No one might know for certain, but the spacers who sailed the Dark certainly feared such a fate. Going overboard and left behind in darkspace was terrifying enough, they’d dump their air and suffocate rather than feel their blood and thoughts slow as the dark matter pressed in around them — the mystery of transitioning like that, though, they’d not even speak of that. Simply whisper ‘Dutchman’ and say no more of it. “How could you stand by?”

  “We did what we could.”

  “It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough —” So many ships gone missing — maybe more than even she knew or suspected — perhaps hundreds of crew. “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Enough of your nonsense, Mister Stoltzfus! Quite enough!”

  “I don’t know, I tell you! Somewhere on the planet, we don’t know where. They have ships’ boats, several of them, and attack our settlements without warning to take what food they want. We don’t have any means of tracking them.”

  “How many ships did they take? And how many of them are there?”

  “Three, I think, perhaps four, here on Man’s Fall — I’ve no idea how many elsewhere.” He grimaced. “Two hundred eighty-four of our number went with them when they left. Not all by choice, I think — there were families in that number, women and children.”

  Alexis nodded and ran the numbers in her head. There’d been a crew of forty-three aboard Distant Crown, perhaps the same aboard Silver Leaf, though they’d never know. So perhaps Lively Owl and one other ship left, with similar numbers — they’d not have the numbers to crew more than that, and surely there’d be some left behind at whatever base they kept here on Man’s Fall.

  “There were women and children aboard Distant Crown when we took her, Mister Stoltzfus. They fought us as well.”

  Stoltzfus closed his eyes and his lips moved silently. Alexis assumed he was praying, though for what she couldn’t imagine. She left him to it, nonetheless — once past his initial objections, he’d been forthcoming and she wanted to encourage that.

  Alexis was interrupted by a ping from her tablet. She pulled it from her pocket to find an urgent request from Villar.

  “Yes, Mister Villar?”

  “Sir! A ship’s entered the system — it’s the Lively Owl, sir!”

  Alexis stood, glancing at Stoltzfus.

  “Which Lagrangian point?”

  “L4, sir. She’s burning hard for the planet.”

  There was that, at least — the Owl wasn’t right on top of them, as it would be if they’d used the L1 point closest to the planet. Alexis quickly considered options. The Owl might have a few former Navy men aboard, but most of the crew would be recruits from Man’s Fall, hastily trained in the shipboard systems. On the other hand, Nightingale’s crew might have improved, but they’d not trained at all in fighting while in normal-space. What concerned Alexis the most was that the Owl might have some unknown number of ship’s boats loaded with mining charges as they’d used on Al Jadiq. The closer she allowed that ship to the planet, the greater the risk one of the boats would make it past Nightingale and be able to strike the port town.

  Damn me, but I should be aboard —

  The time, though, to reach the ship’s boat, even if she had it move from the edge of town to pick her up, and then to return and dock with Nightingale.

  “Mister Villar,” she said, making her decision. “You are to command Nightingale toward the Owl immediately and take or destroy her. Priority to any boats she drops along the way, please.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Alexis heard him order Nightingale to quarters and instruct the helmsman to break orbit and head toward the others ship.

  “Sir,” Villar said finally, “are you certain you won’t take the boat up to meet us?”

  “The risk is too great, I think.” Alexis was glad that he’d set her orders in motion before asking questions. “A single boat with a mining charge would devastate this town, it’s so much smaller than the Jadiqi’s. I want you to keep that ship and her boats well away from the planet.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Alexis turned her attention back to Stoltzfus.

  “And when we’re done with them, we’ll turn our attention to whatever’s left of their band on planet, Mister Stoltzfus, your sensibilities notwithstanding. Had you been honest with me from the first, a great many people would still be alive.”

  Stoltzfus opened his mouth, perhaps to argue again, but then seemed to deflate. His shoulders slumped, his eyes fell, and he nodded slowly.

  Alexis sat for a time, somewhat at a loss. She wanted to contact Villar and see what might be happening, but knew the two ships were still too far apart for an action — Nightingale’s guns were too small to bother engaging at any great distance, even a converted merchantman’s hull would shrug off the dispersed energy.

  No, it would, she thought, twenty minutes or more before the first engagement took place. In that time, Villar would likely be reviewing just how one went about attacking in normal-space, as he’d be making use of Nightingale’s computer for aiming — something not possible in darkspace and seldom practiced by ships so small as Nightingale. He surely didn’t need her jogging his elbow at every turn and pestering him with questions.

  It surprised her then, when her tablet pinged again so soon.

  “Sir —” Villar was saying.

  “Yes?”

  “The Owl’s turned about. She was headed in-system from L4 when we circled around in our orbit and spotted her, but now she’s had time to see us and she’s headed back to the Lagrangian point.”

  Though she muttered a string of oaths that would make her bosun cover his ears, Alexis’ mind stayed on the problem. The outburst was more a way to release the stress of the decision she instantly knew was a result of her previous one — and that the first had been a mistake.

  She’d assumed the
Owl’s commander would be determined to fight through to the “heretics” in some self-sacrificial last attack, not run as he had before.

  And now I’ve made the options even worse.

  If she’d gone back aboard at the first, it would have slowed Nightingale, but not nearly so much as it would now. Her boat couldn’t accelerate fast enough to match the velocity Nightingale had built up. The ship would have to slow, even considering that she’d eventually have to do so anyway to transition at the Lagrangian point.

  But if the Owl were allowed to reach that Lagrangian point and transition to darkspace with too much of a lead — well, once her sails were set and charged, she might be well away by the time Nightingale could transition and follow.

  We’ll lose her again. She glanced at Stoltzfus. And she’ll be free to come back here and finish things.

  No matter that she knew the Owl would be back, Nightingale would have to leave eventually, if for no other reason than to protect the shipping the Owl might prey on in the meantime.

  “There’s no time to retrieve me, Mister Villar,” she said. “By the time my boat’s caught up with Nightingale, the Owl will have transitioned and be on her way in darkspace. It will be a hard to task to catch them as it is.” Alexis clenched her jaw, hating what she had to do, but knowing how important it was to stop the Owl from escaping to further prey upon the shipping lanes. “The Owl must be stopped before yet another merchant crew’s condemned to whatever awaits them in a failed transition. Mister Villar, your orders are to take Nightingale in pursuit of the Lively Owl. You are to take or destroy her as you see fit or are able, and such pursuit is to continue so long as the ship and crew are in a condition to do so. I will remain here on Man’s Fall until you’ve taken her and returned. Is that clear?”

  “Sir, I —” Villar looked confused and unsure.