Commander Kirk slowly walked back into his quarters aboard the Warlord, his week of vacation almost at an end. "Computer, lights." He dropped three suitcases of personal effects he brought from his apartment and looked around as the lights came on. Everything was right back to normal. The recliner chair that had been smashed against the wall was now repaired and replaced. His mural dedicated to 1950's movies was repaired and reattached to the wall. Even his floor lamp was fixed.

For the most part, he had enjoyed himself. The rodeo wound up being as hysterical as it was entertaining. His time at Yu's was even better. He had gotten to know some of the other crew even better. Stephen hoped to consider them friends as well. He and Box spent quite a bit of time on the beach, since Box had never seen sand or water waves up close. Watching him run in and out of the water, chiming with delight was like watching a kid. The presence of a semi-transparent spider in the water sat better with some beach-goers than others, though. They got to enjoy some home cooking from his mom, too. It was good to see the whole family back together. He and Box even surprised Ensign Bristol by going to the hyperbike races to see him.

His week wasn't without its downsides, though. Stephen made it a point to go to each of the eight memorial services held for his fallen crewmembers on Monday and Tuesday. He wanted to remember the faces of the first people to die under his command. Although the battle against Wellington's words was still present in his mind, it had subsided. Stephen had come to understand it was the Remans who killed those crewmen, not him. It would have been easier to understand if Wellington was the only one who felt that way. Wellington was just the only one obnoxiously vocal in expressing it.

With a deep sigh, Kirk went about unpacking his things. He spent the remainder of that Sunday rearranging his personal effects and watching the Broncos and Chargers football game.