Running Away...

Posted on Sun Jul 5th, 2026 @ 7:59pm by Lieutenant William Lancaster III
Edited on on Sun Jul 5th, 2026 @ 8:02pm

1,107 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Back Into Action
Location: Spacedock, Deck 37, Crew Quarters
Timeline: 1945 Hours

"...But, William, you'll be so far! When will I get to see you again? You'll be lightyears away from everything, your home, everyone you know..."

Abigail Lancaster, every bit the grand, aristocratic lady today as she'd been as he grew up, looked like she might cry. She held a handkerchief to just under her eyes, trying so hard not to let the tears fall or to smudge her makeup. If not for the distance between them, just over twenty-two thousand kilometers, a paltry, insignificant measurement, Billy would have reached out to hug her.

That's kind of the point, he thought to himself, but instead he smiled.

"My career's been stagnant for some time now, Mum," he said. "I need to show some ambition, get more experience. That's out there, Mum. Not cooped up on this station forever. Plus, the Yamato is an incredible ship. I should know, I saw to those engines myself."

They both knew that wasn't the whole truth, but she was too proper to challenge it, and he wasn't ready to say more. Maybe he never would be. His career hadn't been stagnant, not really. It had been steady, even promising. In another couple of years he thought might have led the whole department. But none of that mattered now.

Billy reached out and placed a couple of fingers on the screen, and his mother matched the gesture from her end, still smiling, though his brown eyes betrayed him as they often did.

"I'm leaving tonight. Sorry I didn't come to say goodbye in person. With Dad home... I figured..." He hesitated. "I didn't want another argument to be the last thing you saw before I left."

She studied him for a moment, and he could tell she chose her words carefully. "He'll try to make it right someday. But you're right. Tonight isn't that night." Abigail trailed off, shook her head, and adjusted the conversation, coming close to the things he didn't want to discuss but not quite. "I understand why you're leaving, William. I do." Then, softer: "And I want you to know, I am proud of you. And I love you."

"I love you too, Mum. I'll call when I'm settled."

The smile lingered for a couple more seconds before he disconnected the line. Starfleet's emblem appeared on the darkened screen as it went into standby. Billy sat there for a moment, jaw working as he blinked away the moisture in his eyes. The environmental systems probably just needed recalibrating. That was all.

He glanced around his quarters, their quarters, one more time. It was so empty now.

His ships-in-a-bottle had all been carefully packed away, along with his clothes, his saddle, the crates of sealed ingredients and his custom kitchen appliances, and a few other mementos he was keeping, would be waiting for him on his new ship. The rest though... everything that reminded Billy of him, which had been plenty, was gone at last.

Billy didn't let himself wonder why it had taken him so long to put everything into the replicator for recycling. The night before had been spent deep in a bottle as he'd disposed of pictures of their marriage ceremonies, clothes that had been left behind, an IDIC shrine made of gold. As stupid as it was, it was a pair of boots that had broken him at last as he'd watched them vanish into constituent atoms. He'd wound up crying on the bed after that.

It was disturbing in the harsh sobriety today that so much life could disappear so quickly.

Before he got any more philosophical, Billy ground his teeth together, snatched up his duffle bag, and slung the strap over his shoulder. Then he walked out the doors, telling himself he wouldn't look back. And he wouldn't - because he stopped short when he saw what was waiting for him in the hall.

His team.

A dozen engineers from nearly as many species were lined up on either side of the corridor. All in uniform, all at attention. Despite himself, Billy let out a short laugh. "You all look ridiculous," he said, shaking his head. Yet they didn't move a muscle. Academy-perfect, they called that, the kind of posture that could go on a recruitment poster, and no demanding instructor or admiral could find fault with.

"At ease!" He snapped with mock severity, and everyone relaxed. For just a second, he felt his throat tighten with emotion. "I'd hoped to get out of here without making a fuss. But I'm glad you're all here."

"It was my idea!" Ensign Thomas Mayweather, the youngest of the team, was the first to rush up and shake his hand.

Then Lieutenant Yorvin, the Bolian, took Billy's hand next, "As soon as we found out, the boy wouldn't shut up about it. We agreed just to get a little peace and quiet. Damn you for keeping the transfer secret, by the way. And don't think I forgot about that favour you owe me either."

"I still don't see why he has to leave," said Ensign Taxal next, one of two Bajorans on the team. She looked around at the others for support, "We're all with you boss, no matter what. It's not your fault that-"

Taxal was swiftly interrupted by Senior Chief Petty Officer McInnis. "Aye, that he's an inconsiderate lout that thought he could get away wi' sneaking off, like a rat." The big, burly man gently shoved the young Bajoran woman aside, to shake Billy's hand too. The Scot knew better than to let her finish that sentence. Then he pulled Billy into a quick hug and slap on the back, "Ye take care of yerself out there, lad."

And so he went, down the line, shaking hands, hugging, even sharing some kisses on the cheek. Somehow he kept it together. As the last hand lowered and he'd made it through the gauntlet, Billy did turn back one more time. Not to look at his quarters where his life had been for more than a decade now, but to his team.

"Thank you," was all he said, all he could say, to them, voice thick. He couldn't suppress a real smile as he locked the memory of their faces and their time together in his mind. With a deep breath, he squared his shoulders, turned, and walked toward the turbolift.

He was leaving because he had to. In the quiet moment after the doors closed, he was running away.




Lieutenant William Harper Lancaster III
Chief Engineer
USS Yamato (NCC-71807-B)

RSS Feed