Resolution

Posted on 18 Feb 2026 @ 7:16pm by Lieutenant JG Ryan Collingway & Captain Sabrina Corbin

2,113 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Silent Inheritance

///Crew Quarters////

The day passed peacefully enough, and Ryan heard...nothing. Not from the Captain, or the CSO. No one had come in the middle of the night to drag him off to the brig. He glanced at his still-packed bag, minus a few things removed for the day. He should be patient.

He was an engineer, though. Engineers weren't patient by default. They tinkered. They fixed what was broken. They didn't wait around. At the same time, what Commander Harlen had said still rang in his head.

There was a saying in the Academy-if a lower deck ever saw the Captain, they had either done something brilliant or were in serious trouble. In his case, it was definitely not the first one. But he still wanted to do it.

He sent a message to the Captain, asking to schedule a meeting.

// Ready Room :: 1312 Hours //

The low hum of the Arawyn’s engines carried through the bulkheads, steady and constant.

The chime sounded.

“Enter.”

Chief Petty Officer Merrick stepped inside with his usual composed precision. A padd rested against his palm. In his other hand, a ceramic cup released a thin ribbon of steam.

“Captain. Afternoon updates.”

He set the tea down first.

Sabrina glanced up, the faint scent not immediately recognizable. She gave him a questioning look.

“Lathiran black leaf. Strong. Grounding.” Elias smiled, the gesture crinkling his eyes.

“You do not need to spend your leave finding me new tea,” Corbin smirked, appreciative.

“Respectfully, Captain,” Merrick replied, a faint hint of amusement in his tone, “it gives me something useful to do with it.”

Merrick inclined his head slightly. “Case reports from Lathira have increased.”

Sabrina’s gaze settled briefly on the cup before lifting again. The numbers sat at the front of her mind, even when she forced them elsewhere. Rising cases. A solution not yet fully formed.

“Noted,” she replied evenly. “Keep Medical updates prioritized.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Merrick shifted the padd in his hand. “There is also a scheduling request. Lieutenant Ryan Collingway has asked for an audience. He did not specify the topic.”

A slight pause.

“He indicated he would make himself available at your convenience.”

Sabrina did not immediately respond. She leaned back a fraction in her chair, hands folding loosely in front of her.

What she knew was limited. A lie told under strain. An attempt to protect a friend in the wake of a death investigation. Poor judgment. Not malice. Medical had been looped in. Security had addressed the matter.

It had not risen to her level because it did not need to.

And yet here it was.

“Slot him this afternoon,” she said calmly. “Thirty minutes. Fifteen hundred hours.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Merrick made the adjustment without further comment.

Sabrina reached for the tea then, lifting it thoughtfully.

“Anything else, Chief?”

“No, Captain.”

“Very good.”

The doors whispered closed behind Merrick.

Sabrina took a measured sip, eyes already returning to the reports on her desk.

At fifteen hundred hours, she would see what the engineer believed he was walking into.

///Fifteen Hundred Hours////

At precisely that time, Ryan stood outside of her office. He took a small breath, clearing his mind. He had thought long and hard about Commander Harlan's speech, and came to a decision. Was he looking for advice? Permission? It was hard to say.

He was granted entry. "Captain," he said. "Thank you for taking the time to see me." Curiosity prompted him to glance around, because, well, he was a Lieutenant Junior Grade who had never seen a Captain's office before. But he only did that briefly. Not long enough to really call attention to it.

She studied him for a brief, assessing moment. Not unkind. Not indulgent. Simply attentive.

“You requested the appointment, Lieutenant,” she replied evenly. “Have a seat.”

Her gaze did not miss the quick sweep of his eyes across the ready room. It was subtle. Controlled. The sort of glance a junior officer attempted when trying very hard not to look like a junior officer.

He was not the first to do it. She remembered being that junior officer.

Once he was seated, she folded her hands together.

“I understand you wished to speak with me,” she continued. “You have the floor.”

No accusation in her tone. No preamble.

Just space.

And the expectation that he would use it.

For a moment, it was difficult for him to figure out where to begin. "I assume you are aware of Lieutenant Flammia's investigation of my past," he started. "After that meeting with the CSO, I didn't know what would happen to me. The brig seemed a likely possibility. Maybe it still is."

He met her unwavering gaze. "More out of necessity than anything else, I told Commander Harlan of what happened. I am in charge of the skeleton crew. It wouldn't be right to be absent without explanation. I wanted him to hear from me first. He and I talked. He reminded me that my duty to Starfleet is the truth, and to trust that higher people than myself can help Bazar with its problems. And overall, that engineers have a responsability to fix what they break."

He paused again asking himself if he was looking for permisson, or advice. "I'm going to contact Starfleet Command and tell them what happened on that day. I just wanted to let you know first. In case it conflicts on whatever reports you intend to send," he decided to say.

Sabrina did not interrupt him.

She listened. Fully. Without movement beyond the slow, deliberate breath she drew at the mention of the brig.

When he finished, there was a measured silence.

Her gaze sharpened slightly.

“Do not presume to know what I have or have not been informed of, Lieutenant.”

The words were calm. Controlled.

There was steel in them nonetheless.

“You are not being escorted to the brig. You are not under arrest. And you are not, at present, being removed from this vessel.”

She leaned back a fraction, though her eyes never left his.

“And you will not bypass your chain of command to contact Starfleet Command directly. Not without speaking to me first.”

A beat.

“You believe the situation warrants that level of escalation. Very well.”

Her hands folded lightly atop the desk.

“Why don’t you tell me, in your own words, what problem you believe is so grave that you are prepared to remove yourself from this crew to address it.”

No raised voice.

No overt reprimand.

Just expectation.

And the unmistakable message that this conversation would occur here, not in some distant transmission to Command.

Ryan tried not to inwardly wince at the level of steel in the Captain's voice. He had come this far. He needed to see it all the way through. "I lied at my tribuneral, and the reports. That is a serious offense."

He gave her the short but truthful version of what happened. She didn't speak throughout it. "I thought I could follow Doctor Emerson's medical plan, and talk about it when I was ready.," he concluded. "The feeling of escalation probably came when Lieutenant Flammia physically grabbed me, told me I was being investigated and if I didn't tell the truth it would probably make things worse. He did not give me any indication of what would happen later."

The words were calm. Controlled. Respectful. He was nowhere brave enough to try and be flippant to the Captain.


Sabrina let him finish.

She did not react to the admission of lying. Not outwardly. That weight would be addressed.

But at the mention of Lieutenant Flammia physically grabbing him, her stillness sharpened.

“Physically grabbed you,” she repeated, calm and exact.

“In what context, Lieutenant?”

Her gaze held steady on him.

“Be precise.”

Ryan paused as he realized the Captain didn't know that part. He thought of backtracking, but Commander Harlan was right. He couldn't pick and choose what truths to tell.

"I went to the gym. I was looking for Ensign Harbridge. He was there. Said he could read my anxiety and it seemed suspicious. I told him I was fine and started to leave. He grabbed my arm and later apologized. We talked, and I asked again to leave. He told me that I could not avoid him, and that he was investigating me, and that I would make things worse by not telling the truth. I knew he could tell otherwise."

Ryan blinked. "I understand that he has developed empathic abilities, and picked up on my emotions. He was professional during the interrogation but it made things...intense. I couldn't predict what would happen during the interrogation. I couldn't predict what would happen after." He hesitated. "I guess you could say I was rattled. Which led me to talk to Commander Harlan, who indicated I should tell the truth to Starfleet. Or at least, report it to someone. Ma'am."

Sabrina listened without interruption.

Her expression did not harden at once, nor did it soften. She absorbed the details. The gym. The arm. The apology. The escalation in language that, upon closer inspection, seemed less dramatic than it had first sounded.

When he finished, the room settled into quiet.

“I do not consider the gym an ideal venue for an investigative confrontation,” she said evenly. “However, from your account, Lieutenant Flammia identified his intent and did not proceed beyond that initial contact.”

She let that rest for a moment.

“Your greater concern is not where he spoke to you. It is what you chose to carry afterward.”

Her gaze sharpened.

“You lied at a tribunal. You falsified reports. Those are not small missteps. They are foundational breaches of trust.”

There was no raised voice. No theatrical reprimand.

Just fact.

“You are a Starfleet officer. That designation is not conditional. It does not bend under discomfort. It does not yield because a situation is emotionally complex.”

A pause.

“You should never have placed yourself in a position where your integrity could be called into question in this way.”

The words were firm. Direct.

“And the weight you describe,” she continued, quieter now, “is the natural consequence of that choice.”

She studied him for another long second. His recent promotion. His performance aboard the Arawyn. No prior pattern of instability. A young officer caught in something far larger than he had been equipped to navigate.

“This matter has been evaluated,” she said carefully. “Medical has assessed it. Security has addressed it. I have been briefed.”

Another measured breath.

“Escalating it to Starfleet Command independently would not serve you. Nor would it serve this crew.”

It might, she knew, open doors he was not prepared to walk through. Doors that would not close easily.

“You will not contact Starfleet Command.”

Not a suggestion.

An order.

“You will remain at your post unless I direct otherwise.”

Her gaze did not soften, but it steadied.

“Now.”

A slight tilt of her head.

“I need you to state, clearly, that this lapse in judgment will not be repeated. That when placed in an impossible position again, you will choose truth first.”

She held him there.

“Can you do that, Lieutenant?”

Ryan met her gaze, recognizing this for what it was-a second chance. "I can," he stated. "I apologize for my conduct, and for bringing this to your ship. It will not happen again."

He made a promise. And he had no intention of breaking it.

Sabrina held his gaze a moment longer after he finished.

The apology was noted. The promise more so.

“Very well, Lieutenant.”

There was no warmth layered over it. But there was acceptance.

She inclined her head slightly.

“One last thing, Collingway.”

He stilled.

“You are not a silo.”

The words were measured, deliberate.

“We are successful in Starfleet because we lean on one another. We share burdens. We allow others to help carry what we are not meant to carry alone.”

A brief pause.

“You made this worse by isolating yourself with it.”

Not cruel. Simply true.

“Next time, you come to your department head. Your commander. Or to me. Before it festers.”

Her hands returned to rest lightly atop the desk.

“You are dismissed, Lieutenant.”

The dismissal was clean. Final.

The matter, for her, closed.

For him, she suspected, just beginning to settle.

Ryan nodded. "Yes, Captain." He left, sending a quick note to Commander Harlan that he had spoken to the Captain and he would not be distracted any further.

That done, he released a breath. A breath he had been inadvertantly holding onto for the past year. And got back to work.

Captain Sabrina Corbin
Commanding Officer
USS Arawyn

Lieutenant (JG) Ryan Collingway
Engineering Officer
USS Arawyn

 

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