"Home"

[Mark Garrison 0]

"Home"

 

The days seemed to drag on longer, Mark noted. He stood by window in his quarters, watching the stars drag by at warp. They we're due to Camelot within the week, which was about the only Garrison noted was going to be a good thing that week. Meetings to discuss department transfers to and from the ship, continued training sessions which...after ten months had finally began to see some discipline amongst the ensigns. While this last third to Excalibur's near year long journey would be the least...eventful, it was detrimental to crew focus. Hell, they hadn't even shifted course in the last two weeks. After the daily routine of maintaining your station, there wasn't much to do but watch the stars fly-by.

 

Realizing he was doing just that, Mark crossed his quarters to the bathroom, and began to shave. The mirror showed he was well tanned for someone who had been cramped in a ship for three months, though taking three days off to cross Vulcan's Forge in the holodeck would do that. Garrison had always prefered to save his holodeck time to use in a long endevour such as this, and while people questioned his motives for crossing a near uncrossable desert, the vast openess of the Forge was exactly what Mark needed to escape endless corridors and center opening doors. It was also part of his training regimen, which had occupied the majority of his free time for the journey home. He hated to admit it, but the leave of absence he'd taken on Earth the year prior to his joining Excalibur had left him rusty. Now however, with only a few days left he looked himself over with satisfaction. Prefering speed to sheer power, he had toned more then bulked up, but he filled out the uniform better none the less. Even more important however, was that his mind was clear. After what happened in the Black Marsh, it was obvious to him his mind was distracted.

 

But there would be no epic battle today, only paper work. Moving crewmen from shift to shift, on and off ship. He wouldn't have the final list until last transfer requests were required, but 1800 hours. Which meant he'd be up till 0100 at least. He sighed, and rinsed off his face. These ensigns didn't appreciate anything anymore...then again neither did he back then. As he changed into his uniform he wondered about how much leave they'd get. Excalibur was decently torn up, and any decent amount of leave would have to last weeks to get people back and forth from the Quadrants. Before that though, he had to get through the three hour shift lead meeting about the transfers. Then more meetings with people he had somehow not managed to meet before this last stage in the journey. He looked his uniform over, and stepped out into the corridor, taking is usual path to security to start another day. He couldn't wait to get off the mooring to Camelot's promenade, to come full circle...but for now there were personel, and the future to shuffle about.