[Galaxy] [New-Darwin] 14 July, Civilian's log, Garroway

[Suzanna Batenburg]

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"Demons" - Pt.3


[Meridian, Captain's Ready Room]

"What's on your mind?" Captain Mendoza asked.

"Sir," Garroway began, "I'm having a problem wrapping my head around
everything that happened. I almost tore the ship apart using thrusters
in atmosphere, I buckled in the firefight, I'm not there to help when
things go wrong planetside, and in the end I get called 'Lieutenant'
with commendations and awards behind my name. I'm not saying I don't
want to be here, exactly, but I'm wondering if I'm cut out for it all."
He took a deep breath, let it out. "I guess what I'm getting at is... is
it always going to be like that?"

The Captain smiled. He took a deep breath, composing his thoughts before
speaking. "Is it always going to be like that? No. But part of being out
here is knowing that we'll encounter the unexpected. And how we deal
with that unexpectedness is what separates us from those who choose not
to be out here in the first place."

Mendoza leaned forward in his desk, lacing his hands on the table and
looking Garroway in the eyes. "Listen, Lieutenant...Thomas. Your
piloting skills are what kept us alive in the atmosphere of that planet.
Just imagine how much worse things would have been if the Nausicans had
blown us out of the sky instead.

"As for the firefight...if I'm not mistaken, that was your first one.
And you're not trained as a security officer either. All things
considered, you performed rather well. You stood your ground and didn't
run away where some others might have. And you couldn't help on the
planet because I needed you up here with the ship. You had an important
task in using the Meridian to pull the Greystone out of the atmosphere
without having it tear apart on you. Last time I checked, that kind of
thing took skill.

"We all have our personal demons, but the fact that you're here - that
any of us are here - shows that we're willing to face them..."


[ New Darwin, Garroway's Cabin ]

Garroway rose from the bed and walked into the small bathroom, vaguely
aware of the aching wound.  He put a weary hand to his head, barely
realizing there was no cold sweat.  He filled the sink with water from
the tap, splashed his face.  Wiping his head and shoulders down, he
tossed the towel aside.  He took a deep breath, closing his eyes in an
effort to clear his mind, but images skittered across his vision, though
they were not what he expected.


[ GSIII, Caves ]

"You also chose to depart Starfleet," Varre' asked.  "May I ask the
purpose of that?"

Garroway shrugged with a little sigh. "Things change," he said simply.

"They say go here and you no say yes? How changes?" she asked gently.

"What changed?" he said, making sure he understood the question.  "What
changed...?" he repeated, seeming to ask himself.  They walked a few
steps in silence before he replied.  Quietly, sadly, he said,
"Everything but me."


[ New Darwin, Garroway's Cabin ]

He opened his eyes and looked at his reflection.  "It's been you against
the Universe," Garroway said to himself.  He raised his fist to look at
the cuts he gave his knuckles a few nights ago, then let his hand drop
to his side.  "No wonder you've been losing."

He leaned on the sink, head down, and closed his eyes again.  Another
memory surfaced: the conclusion of the dream he just had...


[ Meridian, Captain's Ready Room ]

"You will learn to get a handle on things," Mendoza finished.

Garroway sighed, then nodded and straightened in his chair, regaining
his bearing, "Thank you, Sir. I'll work it out. I won't let you down."
Garroway stood, "Permission to return to duty, Captain."

Mendoza stood as well, giving the young man and easy smile. "I know you
won't let me down, Thomas," he said.  Most commanding officers would
have then donned their Captain's airs again, but Mendoza instead
remained cordial.  "Permission granted, Lieutenant," he'd stressed the
_Lieutenant_ part and, on impulse, shook the man's hand.


[ New Darwin, Garroway's Cabin ]

"But I *did* let you down, didn't I, Captain?" Garroway said softly, not
lifting his head.  He joined and rejoined Starfleet because it was where
he belonged - where he could make a difference.  But he left Starfleet
twice because he couldn't face being the officer he saw in the mirror.
How could he have known that every accomplishment would bear a multitude
of demons to haunt him, to make him doubt.  And now, here he was on a
Starfleet colony trying to pretend he was *not* that officer; getting
involved and trying to keep his distance at the same time.  He couldn't
have it both ways.

And now there was a war.  He finally looked at himself again.  War.
Eridani was a battle.  Mercy was a series of skirmishes leading up to a
battle.  But this would be battle after battle.  Was Starfleet ready for
that?  Was anyone?  And yet how could Garroway sit idly by?

Garroway wanted to make a difference, but what did that mean?  Did it
mean making the universe a better place?  Could one man do that, and was
he arrogant enough to think the one man could be him?  Or was making a
difference simply changing enough so that he could look back without
regrets?  Was that sufficient, and was it selfish to aspire to only
that?

And was it worth the cost?  The crewmen he'd lost and the enemies he'd
killed.  The people hurt along the way.  The life he could have had with
Suzanna.

But there _was_ a difference.  Many lives had been saved for every
sacrifice.  Peace had been achieved from each battle.  The future was a
brighter place...

...until the Romulans declared war.

Once again, the Universe would require a something of each and every
person, and everyone had to decide if they could bear the cost.  Would
they play their part, whatever that may be, or would they turn away
(like Garroway had been doing)?  Everyone had to choose, though the
choice was harder for those who knew the costs involved.

Garroway walked over to his desk and initialized his computer.  He
opened a new message and began typing, identifying the recipient as
"Commander, Starfleet", then paused, considering what he wanted to say.
In the end he settled for a simple statement of fact.

    "I want back in."

He hit 'send' and shut down his computer.

He walked back to his bed and laid there for long moments thinking about
the future, the past.  Would any other life with Suzanna had worked?
Probably not.

Slowly, he fell asleep.


---
Thomas Garroway
Independent Freight Coordinator
Earth Cargo Authority

fin.