There one moment, gone the next
Posted on 29 Mar 2026 @ 9:47pm by Lieutenant Ryan Collingway
Edited on on 29 Mar 2026 @ 11:18pm
513 words; about a 3 minute read
Mission: Arawyn’s Itchy Trigger Finger
///Engineering////
As the minutes ticked by, the atmosphere in Engineering began to ease. It was still tight with tension, but gone was the inevitable sense of doom with the warp core being restored. More people entered Engineering-the wounded from sickbay who were deemed healthy enough to keep working. More hands to fix the many systems which still needed to be repaired.
"I heard the Chief was in recovery," one of them, Ensign Gauners said. "It's serious, but it sounds like he has a chance."
"Really?" Ryan said, observing the power regulations. "That's a relief. When we first met, he told me to get rid of any preconceived notions about him, because it was wrong. I guess thinking he could be killed was one of them."
The engineers chuckled. One of them, Anderson, had a slight frown on her face. "When I was I there....they couldn't save one of them."
"One of ours?" Gaunerd asked gently.
"No. A lab tech. Power surge. They said her name was Willeman."
Ryan's head snapped up. "Melina Willeman?"
"Yeah. I think so. Someone you know?" Anderson asked.
Ryan looked down. "No. Not really. Look, let's not focus on whose here and whose not. *We* are here, and we have a job to do. Understand?"
"Yes sir."
He worked in quiet for another half an hour, before finding an excuse to go to Harlan's office. The doors shut behind him as the memories threatened to take over.
*"There’s a lot in that fine print, isn’t there? I’ve noticed that too. Big print!” She used her hands to indicate a bold display across a big screen. "Glamorous job as a medical technician on a starship. Two years of advanced training at the glamorous - they like that word - Starfleet Academy in beautiful San Francisco. See faraway places, travel the galaxy. Small print.”
"Draw blood from grumpy crew members who hate Sickbay for half a day and sterilize and repackage instruments the other half. Tiny print, barely readable, but there. You might occasionally get to pull blood on a handsome smiling lieutenant…occasionally. Be grateful for tiny favors.”
Ryan laughed as he was stuck donating blood, feeling better about the process.*
Anders could be wrong. Ryan activated his communicator. They had repaired the system enough that this should work. "Lieutenant Collingway to Petty Officer Willeman. Please respond."
No response. Not even a chirp.
*If you want someone to rant to, I'm always around," he offered with a smile. "Off-duty, I mean."
The tech stopped and an impish smile spread. “Occasionally I get an offer I can’t refuse. My name is Melinda Willeman, comm WIL27. Comm me when you need a rant."*
"Please answer," Ryan said urgently. "Just say anything. Please."
Nothing. Not even recognition from the combadge. She was just...gone.
Ryan sat down heavily in the chair, for a moment completely overwhelmed with emotion. He couldn't afford to fall apart. Not now. With a very pale face he got back up and went back to work.
Lieutenant (JG) Ryan Collingway
Engineering Officer
USS Arawyn
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