Chapter 15

After his meal, which had drawn a good few officers from the various services around the bridge, as well as the listening ears of the cooks, Amantus eventually returned to his cabin to resume his studies. With the aid of his perscomp linked to the ship’s library, he was able to understand just what Vinns had done, admiring the sheer efficiency of it. Amantus also checked previous encounters, finding that whilst the flotilla had always done well, there were numerous times when the flagship had interfered by way of micromanaging, something Commander Sulli had alluded to.

The surprises kept coming. The station command, after learning the civilian hostages had been transferred safely to the Vengeance, surrendered without a fight, the officers requesting asylum within the Protectorate as involuntary colonists. The civilians also emulated this once they knew of it.

“Sub-Lieutenant Amantus, you are to transfer to the Vengeance and interview the spokespeople of the evacs and see if you can glean any info on conditions within the Brotherhood,” Virki ordered. “Be thorough ... but not Finst thorough.”

“Understood, ma’am,” Amantus chuckled.

“Good, Commander Sulli will be interrogating their officers, but I suspect you’ll learn a bit more about life at the bottom of their society.”

“I’ll do my best, ma’am.”

“You’d better,” Virki smiled, though would not elucidate further.

“The dropship ride was short, though Amantus did not have issues with the zero G within the Trooper area, maintained as protection against sudden drive shifts. However, he intended to ask the engineering Middies why this was standard later.

The dropship landed in one of the smaller bays, and a Force Lieutenant escorted Amantus to the main bay where the evacs were housed. There, he found a chaotic scene of strung pseudoplastic barriers to provide family groups with some privacy. However, finding the elders or leaders was complicated, as they seemed to want to avoid authority.

Still, patience was a virtue, and after Amantus promised anonymity, he eventually faced seven masked evacuees who agreed to be interviewed.

“Why the masks?” Amantus asked after some polite greetings.

“We have no desire to be identified by the Brotherhood,” a man replied.

“I’m only recording sound,” Amantus shrugged. “Not visuals.”

“They likely have spies amongst us, is all.”

“Ah, I see,” Amantus nodded. “So, how did you end up on the station?”

“Tarpheli worlds are overcrowded,” the man replied. “A bad harvest means starvation for millions.”

“You were offered food for your families if you went to the station?” Amantus asked.

“We were, but they lied,” another male replied. “All they were doing was setting up a trap.”

“They told you about that?” a confused Amantus queried.

“If they could not win, they planned to blow the station up, but they couldn’t rescue their military, so they didn’t.”

“I see,” Amantus nodded. “So, how does the brotherhood run its planets?”

What emerged was a disjointed account of facts and impressions, which Amantus eventually compiled into an account of how the people at the bottom of the scale lived in and viewed the Tarpheli Brotherhood. Amantus confirmed to them that they would not be spaced after the Protectorate had debriefed them and that they would be taken to the Dephrar system as colonists.

“Plenty of food and jobs for those willing to work hard,” Amantus explained.

“That’s what they said when they took us to the station,” one of the leaders rebutted.

“You’ve been fed here,” Amantus shrugged. “So trust us to keep you fed here and on Dephrar.”

“True, we didn’t expect what you did,” the leader admitted.

“The Protectorate isn’t perfect,” Amantus admitted. “But our people don’t starve.”

“For now, we’ll trust you,” the leader replied, concluding the interview.

The flotilla returned to Conveelt after destroying the station and completing their patrol without incident. From there, the ‘involuntary colonists’ were escorted to the assault carrier Chesh for transfer to Dephrar. The most noticeable thing was their appearance: the Force had supplied and even made outfits for them, and they walked with dignity and their heads held high.

The news, though, was astonishing. Ex-Commodore Finst was no longer with Sixth Fleet, having been forcibly retired by a disciplinary panel for his lack of due diligence and favouritism towards various candidates for promotion under him. Whilst the panel found no criminal activity, Finst was censured for his activities and advised to take early retirement before further investigations into his dealings and competence were conducted.

‘In short, jump before you’re pushed,’ Amantus thought. ‘Perhaps he was smarter than I thought? Unless he really was up to something illegal.’

Speculation was naturally rife as to who would be promoted to Commodore, though Amantus was simply a sponge to the rumours, as he listened but never passed on anything he heard. Nor, when black shift was in training, did he join in the gossip, other than to say he didn’t know enough about any of the Captains other than Vinns, so wouldn’t care to speculate.

“Quite the recluse, aren’t you, Amantus?” Virki chuckled during a break from a practical on group tactics that the shift was performing on a 3D tactical tank.

“It’s by choice,” Amantus replied. “My status means I have to be careful about anything said in a monitored area.”

“Monitored?”

“The training instructors are recording everything in the tank room; they’re also aware of my status,” Amantus chuckled.

“They are?”

“Yes,” Amantus smiled. “What happened in the Armant investigation will have been logged by Fleet, including the false accusation that I had a hidden agenda against officers.”