Combat Module Carrier 539-Aloga
Pergamum Nebula
After each operation, Spock had returned to Carrier Aloga for what had become his best source of information about the organization and its practices: the combination armory and infirmary operated by Jayko. This time, to his surprise, he found Ensign Ghalka there, studying telemetry from the battlesuit worn by a now fully-bearded Connolly. It was the first time he had seen the other two since his transfer, weeks earlier.
“I am pleased to see you in this role,” Spock said to Ghalka. “You are a technician now?”
“They figured out I was telling the truth about being a scientist and not a security officer,” Ghalka said. “They need biologists to help the battlesuits acclimate better to our species.”
“I knew I studied the wrong things in the Academy,” Connolly said. “Could you tell them we’re scientists too?”
“Sorry,” Ghalka said, gesturing to Connolly’s readings on her monitoring device. “They think you’re in great physical shape. Even in the battlesuits, athleticism counts.”
“Damn cross-training.”
“And Spock’s Vulcan physiology gives him endurance that supplements his battlesuit.” Ghalka shrank a little, embarrassed. “Sorry. But it was a great day when Redsub said I belonged ‘in the rear with the gear.’ ”
Spock’s brow furrowed. “That is a peculiar expression,” he said. “Your subaltern said it?”
She nodded.
“I’ve heard it before,” Connolly said. “Earth, way back. Tooey Monahan was the last first-round draft pick ever to be Rookie of the Year—until they drafted him for the Third World War. They put him in the rear too.”
“I do not understand,” Spock said.
Neither did Ghalka. “He was drafted—then he was drafted?”
“That is not what I was referring to,” Spock said, forestalling another digression into Connolly’s hobbies. “Why would a phrase known on Earth be employed in this nebula?”
“Oh,” Ghalka said, understanding. “Their first medical file on a human is well over a century old. Clearly somebody wandered in. They’ve been at this a very long time.”
Ghalka had learned more. There were many species serving in the Boundless, but there were five founding member races—Kormagan and Jayko belonged to two. Child-rearing took place on the support ships that followed the waves around. The founder species were highly committed to the fight against the Rengru, Ghalka said, but they also understood that their numbers and weapons were insufficient to the task—hence the military units doing double-duty as pirates and press gangs.
“There’s a good reason we have such an easy time communicating with the others here,” she said. “Apparently the outer spacefaring cultures have been influencing them for decades, whether we knew it or not. They’re mimics about more than just technology.”
“You have learned much.” Spock looked about at the bustling center. “Is it wise to speak so openly?”
“They don’t seem to care about what people say,” Ghalka said. “The Boundless encourage conversations between old troops and new to facilitate integration—and don’t mind them between fellow abductees, as long as they don’t lead to actions against their authority. Some of these warriors were born into it—I assume their parents actually had to meet.”
“That’s how it usually works,” Connolly said.
Ghalka looked about at the various technicians and their subjects. “You have to understand how much they all really do believe in this fight. Even the abductees eventually come around.”
Connolly stifled a laugh. “Seeing the Rengru will do that to you! It only took Baladon two months to buy in.”
“We have been here longer than two months,” Spock said, “and encountered the same things.”
“I know. Still,” Connolly said, “I was afraid this part would be a lot worse.” He gestured to the overhead, indicating the whole ship. “More brutal, with everyone acting like Baladon was at the start. But they seem to save the violence for the Rengru.”
“We are Starfleet officers,” Spock said firmly. He studied Connolly. “Where does your commitment lie, Lieutenant?”
Connolly seemed gobsmacked. “That’s a crazy question, sir.” He shook his head. “I mean, the Boundless do seem to be under threat—they have a need. It might even be legitimate. But this isn’t the way to fulfill it.”
Spock looked to Ghalka. “Ensign?”
“Screw the Rengru,” she blurted. “I want to go home.”
“Very well. Continue to learn what you can.”
Across the infirmary, he saw Kormagan enter. Spock had seen earlier that her armor had been scored by acid, from a dousing that had come when she had led the assault on the Rengru station. Jayko spotted her and called out. “Welcome, Wavemaster. Pray tell did you spare any of that acid bomb for the Rengru?”
“Shut up,” she said. “Just make sure everything’s working.”
As Jayko left his patient to attend to her, Spock spoke quietly to Ghalka. “Your observations about openness noted, Ensign, perhaps it is better that I step away.”
He had gotten only a few steps away when the Andorian whispered loudly to him. “Spock!”
He turned amid the noisy room and saw Ghalka looking—not even pointing—directly at the wavemaster and the armorer. Spock casually followed her glance and saw that Jayko was tending to a rounded module behind Kormagan’s right shoulder. Like the rest of her armor, it bore scars.
“I hate to tell you this,” Jayko said to her, “but you’re going to need a new governor.”
Spock blinked. He had never heard of governors in the Boundless before. Then Kormagan responded: “Fix the one I have.”
“I don’t even know why you have the thing,” Jayko said. “You’re not going to run away. How long have you been in charge?”
“We’re all the same here,” Kormagan said. Seeing Spock listening, she repeated it more loudly. “We’re all on the same team.”
Spock watched her—and nodded gently in assent before heading into the hallway. Once there, he reached around and touched the nodule behind his shoulder. Everyone in the Boundless might indeed be equal—but they were all governed. And now he knew what and where the mechanism was.