The Queen's Pardon (Alexis Carew Book 6)

by J. A. Sutherland

  Both captains and, Alexis noted, nearly everyone in the room who was conscious, had their hands cupped protectively in front of them.

  “Bloody men,” she muttered.

  The effect of having shot the pirate in that particular place might have some benefit, however, as they did need information on the pirate forces in the ships orbiting Erzurum, as well as those on the planet itself — and if he was thinking she was some sort of evil witch, well, then he might believe she was more prone to harming him than she actually was.

  She knelt down at the end of the table near Blackbourne’s head so that he had to either watch her or crab his eyes far to the side.

  “Before Captain Kannstadt’s man repairs the damage I’ve done to you, Mister Blackbourne, I do have a few questions.”

  “Old Blackbourne’ll tell you nothing, witch-woman! He’ll not betray his fellows to your foul arts! You’ll get nothing! He’ll —”

  Alexis’ only warning was an angry chittering she knew too well and the scrabble of claws on the floor before those claws dug into her shoulder. It was only the briefest impact, though, as the bloody Creature launched itself to her other shoulder and from there onto the dining table, likely thinking dinner was in progress and wanting some share of leftovers as it got aboard ship when her officers ignored her objections and fed the damned thing.

  It was only Blackbourne’s bad luck, she was sure, that the Creature’s leap landed it squarely on the pirate’s pinned hand, knocking and twisting flechettes all about and burying no small number of them deeper under its weight, as well as more than a bit of twist and gouge.

  Blackbourne screamed — a sound of mixed pain and terror as he looked down his body at the brown furred thing landing atop him.

  Alexis could have told the pirate that the Creature paid no mind to screams — not her own of outrage and anger over finding its leavings in her boots, nor, apparently, to terrified pirates. The thing simply spun about, planting each foot firmly on Blackbourne’s hand as it did so, and bared its tiny but needle-sharp teeth at the man.

  “Demon familiar! Oh, sweet Dark, Old Blackbourne’ll talk witch-woman! Ask yer questions — just don’t let yer demon eat his Doubting Thomas!”

  Thirty-One

  Mongoose hung in orbit in radiant splendor, reflecting the light from Erzurum’s star like a beacon.

  Alexis recognized her even with her masts still struck down and with more than one new patch on her hull — ill-fitting and scandalously aligned, so that Alexis was certain Dockett would have to be restrained from taking out his anger over such shoddy work on any of the pirate crew they captured. She might herself, as her heart filled at the sight of the ship and she cataloged the indignities done to her by the pirates’ attack and then their slapdash repair work.

  She’d held herself a bit in reserve from her ships since losing Belial at Giron — neither Nightingale nor, she thought, Mongoose had meant as much to her as that ship and she’d not felt Mongoose’s loss here nearly so hard, she thought.

  Now the sight of the ship, and the idea of getting her back, of walking her quarterdeck once more and allowing the vessel some bit of revenge against the pirates who’d so scandalized her, set her blood racing and her knees weak.

  The pirate boat’s cockpit was crowded with the pilot at the helm, Blackbourne in the copilot’s seat so as to work the comms, and Alexis and Nabb behind the pirate to keep him in line.

  That Nabb held the bloody Creature so as to keep it in Blackbourne’s sight yet out of the comm’s pickup only added to the crowd, and Alexis’ mind was full of what might happen if Nabb dropped the thing. Those skittering paws dancing over the boat’s control board would do their ruse no good — but there was no doubt the Creature had Blackbourne cowed in some way.

  The pirate shied away as Nabb pointedly shook the Creature, causing it to bare its needle-sharp teeth.

  “Aye, no one said we was comin’!” Blackbourne said to the comm and his fellow aboard Mongoose. “But them fellows the farmer picked up gave out a bit o’ info, see? There’s some’at o’ value aboard an’ Old Blackbourne aims to collect!”

  “We tore this ship apart, we did,” the pirate aboard Mongoose said. “Ain’t nothin’ still hid.”

  “An’ Old Blackbourne says there is!”

  “Ain’t.”

  “Tinkham, yer a bloody fool an’ the best part o’ ya slid down yer mama’s leg the one time she met yer da! Now, Old Blackbourne’s comin’ aboard an’ lookin’ fer treasure!”

  “Old Blackbourne can go bugger himself with that scrawny worm he’s so bloody fond of talkin’ about!”

  “Don’t ya go malignin’ Old Blackbourne’s Little Billy, ya buggering bloody bugger!”

  Nabb suppressed a laugh, which shook the Creature, which bared its teeth, which set Blackbourne’s eyes to widening and his own mouth to set in a grimace of fright.

  Alexis had to admit that when they’d finally collected the Creature off the pirate back at the farm and set it safely with Isom to allow Kannstadt’s man to work on Blackbourne’s injuries — well, both Kannstadt and Ellender had felt compelled to comment on Alexis’ marksmanship, in being able to strike such a difficult target so very many times.

  “Your scary looks don’t frighten me, Blackbourne,” Tinkham said. “Ness gave me this ship and I’ll let aboard who I say!”

  “An’ it’s Old Blackbourne in charge when Ness’ off, so you’ll be lettin’ him aboard!”

  “In charge of that mudball, not my bloody ship!”

  “Am!”

  “Ain’t!”

  “Is!”

  Alexis sighed. The piratical hierarchy on Erzurum, once this Ness fellow was out of the picture, at least, seemed to be quite murky at best — possibly as obscure as their skill at arguing. It was quite a good thing that she didn’t need Blackbourne’s help to actually get aboard Mongoose, only to distract the pirates there until the boat was close enough.

  Assuming, of course, that the codes Avrel Dansby’d given her still worked. He’d said the rechristening of his Elizabeth, as Mongoose had originally been named, wouldn’t affect them, nor anything else short of a full system wipe — and even then, he’d smiled at some secret, he’d had the codes buried so deeply in Elizabeth’s systems. Given many of those codes, and the sheer variety of them, Alexis could only conclude that Dansby’s earlier life had been far more interesting than she’d previously suspected.

  It was also clear that Avrel Dansby was not a trusting man.

  And now they were close enough to the ship to find out if he was also skilled enough, or had hired someone who was, to embed his distrust in the ship’s systems.

  “Elizabeth, are you there?” Alexis said, speaking distinctly.

  A chime sounded over the comms from Mongoose’s quarterdeck.

  “What were that?” Tinkham asked. “What’re you up to, Blackbourne?”

  “The witch-woman’s demon-familiar made Old Blackbourne do it, Tinkham! Don’t you blame Old Blackbourne!”

  Alexis sighed. Blackbourne’s histrionics aside, the chime in response to the ship’s name and the code phrase over a comm channel gave her some hope the tricks Dansby claimed were buried so deeply in her systems that no rechristening or capture could ever hope to winkle them out, no matter how little sense the phrase itself might mean to Alexis, might work.

  “Elizabeth, Kaycie’s home and someone’s in the house.”

  For a moment, Alexis thought that Dansby’s code had failed, as the comms screen went blank, shutting off Tinkham’s next question in mid-word.

  “Mongoose ain’t broadcasting, sir,” the pilot said. “Nothing — not a peep.”

  In fact, the ship had gone dark as well as silent, with all of her hull lights shutting off, leaving her illuminated only by Erzurum’s star and what reflected off the planet’s heavy cloud cover.

  That was as Dansby’d said, yet it was still an eerie thing to see.

  Eerier still to see the ship move, knowing that her quarter
deck must be as still and dark as the ship’s exterior had just gone.

  Mongoose — Elizabeth, rather, as Alexis felt like there was some long-hidden other awakening now, one she’d never quite know as well as Avrel Dansby did, that had just taken control of the ship she knew as Mongoose — twisted and turned in space, aligning the hatch along her port side with the approaching boat so as to facilitate docking.

  The pilot sent the boat spurting forward and spun it to come alongside with the soft thump of their meeting.

  “Two men from the boat crew to keep an eye on Blackbourne here, Nabb,” Alexis ordered as she ducked through the cockpit’s hatch to the crowded passenger compartment. “If he misbehaves, they may feed his toes to the Creature.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Old Blackbourne’ll be good, witch-woman!”

  “I’m not a bloody witch, but I’ll not hesitate to shoot you again.”

  Blackbourne scowled at her. “Shot or hexed, it’s all the same to Old Blackbourne’s magic flute, ain’t it?”

  They’d stripped the boat of all its seats, so as to crowd in more men — all of Alexis’ and nearly that many of Kannstadt’s. It was so crowded that Alexis didn’t bother to yell for the broad backs facing her to make a lane, as they had nowhere to go but out the hatch and into Mongoose. Her own lads were at the fore, their vacsuits, carried at such great effort from her crashed boat, would offer some protection against the pirates, while the force from Erzurum still wore their scaled skins or next to nothing.

  Nevertheless, those fellows to either side of the hatch did hold back, allowing those in front of Alexis through first and her after.

  Mongoose had a very different feel as Alexis launched herself through the docking tube and through the now open airlock hatch. Or, perhaps, it was Elizabeth that felt differently, while Mongoose had only been a facade for a time.

  The ship now felt … older, and angry — if such a thing were possible.

  She’d loved every ship she’d ever served on, even the ill-fated Hermione and especially the doomed Belial, but she’d never, not truly, attributed to them the sort of awareness some spacers did. They were things — and while each might take on a certain character, that was more the combination of her captain and crew, along with some of the few mechanical or systems quirks such a complex bit of machinery and technology must necessarily acquire.

  They weren’t alive, they weren’t aware, they didn’t — Alexis shivered as she crossed the docking hatch threshold and the companionway ahead, dark until she arrived, lit up. The ship inside was as dark as out until she entered, and with the anti-gravity off so that her lads floated up and down the companionway to the other decks.

  They did not, she assured herself, feel a sense of violation and demand vengeance.

  “All the hatches’re locked, sir,” Dockett said, pushing off the wall to float her way. “There’s power, but they won’t open — nor the manuals, neither.”

  Alexis wondered at how Dansby’d managed to override the safety mechanisms to seal the hatches even against manual opening — but this was what he’d told her would happen. All the hatches sealed, the gravity off, and all the lights with it, so that the ship’s inhabitants, whoever they might be, were trapped floating in darkness. All save those who entered with whomever spoke the proper codes.

  She floated over to the hatch that would lead through Mongoose’s officers’ quarters, what would be the wardroom on a Navy ship, to the quarterdeck. The rest of her force crowded into the companionway, spreading out between decks to the other hatches and readying their weapons.

  The hatch to the wardroom seemed to vibrate under Alexis’ palm, but that must be her imagination, as that had never been the case before. Ships did not growl with anticipation, like some hound straining at the leash.

  It’s Dansby’s silly, bloody codes, speaking to the ship as though she can hear — next he’ll have me sitting with Creasy and asking to be ordained into some spiritual order of the Dark. And who’s this bloody “Kaycie” all his codes mention?

  Some past conquest, if she knew the man at all, and he’d not got around to changing things to impress the next one yet. She could imagine him playing the card, “Here, lass, see? I’ve made you the key to my ship, you’re so much in my mind — now drop the knickers and between the sheets, right?”

  “All set, sir!” Dockett called.

  Alexis shivered again, it seemed the hatch’s thrumming had grown stronger at the bosun’s words and she would definitely need a drink to settle her nerves when this was done — and a good fortnight without Creasy’s mutterings or Blackbourne’s calling her a witch.

  “All right — Elizabeth,” she said firmly, “Kaycie says to open the doors.”

  Thirty-Two

  The hatch before Alexis slid open, as did all those leading off the companionway. The lights came on in the rooms beyond, as well, blinding the pirates after their time in the dark and giving Alexis and her crew a vital second or two to fire or slip into the compartments.

  Alexis slid through while the hatch was still opening, her slight form making it through before any others could follow.

  She dodged to port once through, a shot from one of the pirates narrowly missing her — blinded by the change from darkness to light or not, they knew the ship was under attack and were prepared. The missed shot struck the opening hatch but was soon followed by others.

  More shots sounded from outside, up through the companionway, while the rest of her crew assaulted the other opening compartments.

  At least the pirates had had no time to organize or mount a proper defense as the hatches had closed, trapping them wherever they were in the ship.

  There were only two pirates in the wardroom, crouched behind the cover of the officers’ dining table and chairs — simply the same thermoplastic as the ship’s hull, decks, and bulkheads, molded into shape. As such it did offer more in the way of protection than a typical table and chairs might — though not as thick as the hull or bulkheads, it would stop a bullet or even a bolt from the laser pistol Alexis now carried.

  Her lads fired back from the hatchway, while Alexis opened the first compartment to port and ducked inside. She leaned out, trying to take aim on whatever part of the pirates might be exposed, but a bullet thunked into the bulkhead beside her exposed face and she was forced to dart back.

  A chant started from the companionway and Alexis readied herself.

  “Oi! Oi! Oi! Mongoose!”

  First one, then another, then more, vacsuited figures flung themselves through the hatch, some going high, some low, taking advantage of the lack of gravity to carom off the bulkheads and overhead. They forced the two pirates to fire at multiple targets, firing back themselves.

  There was a cry of pain, but Alexis had no time to wonder if it was one of hers or one of the enemy.

  She grasped the edge of the compartment’s hatch and pulled herself into the common space, pushing off against the hatch’s opposite edge with as much force as her legs could muster.

  Her flight stayed low, scraping the deck, and she tucked and rolled midway so that her feet faced the pirates when she arrived.

  Her memories of skylarking around HMS Merlin’s hull with Philip Easely, her first friend in the Navy, as a midshipman, served her well. It might have looked a game, but playing tag and knock-about in zero gravity did prepare one well for fights like this.

  She cleared both the tabletop and pedestal, her feet striking firmly at the chair one of the pirates hid behind. Slight though her mass was, forty-five kilos —fifty with her vacsuit — striking at speed was enough to knock the man back. Chair and pirate left the deck despite the magnetic set of the chair’s legs. Neither pirate had been prepared for zero gravity, so didn’t have their vacsuits on with their own heavy magnetic boots.

  The pirate sailed up and back, clearing a shot for Alexis’ men, while she twisted to bring her laser to bear on his fellow. She had just a glimpse of his startled face as she sailed by and shot hi
m.

  There was no time for her to waste on either pirate. Leaving it to the others to make sure they were down, Alexis tucked and rolled again, slapping off the deck to face the next hatch. She kicked off hard, flying headfirst toward the closed hatch, but trusting to Dansby’s word.

  “Elizabeth, Kaycie says open the quarterdeck … now!”

  The hatch before her slid open revealing the companionway and the quarterdeck hatch across the way. Alexis’ shoulders barely cleared the opening hatch — in fact, her left grazed it as it slid open — and she dropped her spent laser to pull out her flechette pistol. There was no time to load a new capacitor, as those behind her were.

  The quarterdeck hatch slid open and Alexis’ eyes widened in surprise as she flew toward it headfirst.

  She’d expected the quarterdeck crew, whatever semblance of one the pirates kept on watch, to be spread out anticipating an attack. She’d not expected the pirate captain, Tinkham, to be floating right there in the hatchway yelling at it.

  “— open! Dark damn yer eyes, ya bloody, Dark-buggered, Dansby-cursed hunk o’ rotting — umph!”

  Alexis struck Tinkham in his gut head-first, barely having time to tuck her left arm around her face. Her momentum sent them both back into the quarterdeck space, despite the pirate’s larger mass absorbing some of it. She wrapped her right arm around his back to keep her grip.

  The pirate wasn’t wearing magnetic boots or a vacsuit, just some soft slippers and, disturbingly loose shorts, as though he’d been wakened by their boat’s approach and come straight to the quarterdeck from his bed.

  Tinkham folded over Alexis as her momentum carried them away from the hatch and farther into the quarterdeck. They had a slight, upward angle from Alexis’ flight through the companionway, so cleared the circular navigation plot at the compartment’s center.

  The pirate captain’s surprise gave way to his experience midway and he tried to twist so that Alexis struck the far bulkhead first, but she’d played that game before as a midshipman, and drilled more at boarding tactics with each of her crews. Whichever way Tinkham twisted, she threw her hips and legs the opposite, offsetting his larger mass with her own momentum and leverage.