Introductions and Chokladbollar (Part 1)

Posted on Wed Oct 22nd, 2025 @ 6:06pm by Captain Erik Norsgaard & Lieutenant Tyler Malbrooke & Lieutenant Daegan Baas & Lieutenant Juliette Barnes & Lieutenant Patrick Ryan M.D. & Lieutenant Stormy Knight & Lieutenant Commander Harrison Knox
Edited on on Wed Oct 22nd, 2025 @ 6:07pm

1,995 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Wolf in the Fold: Hide and Seek
Location: Conference Room | Bridge | USS Thunderbird
Timeline: MD001 - 0800

The conversation with Rylan had gone long into the night; Erik had helped him pack while the two shared stories from their time in command. Erik, who understood how hard it was, let the ship's former captain set the pace, serving primarily as a 6'5" pack mule, ferrying crates to the cargo transporter. Until finally, when all the words were said and everything packed, Rylan, gray-tinged with exhaustion, had said his final good-byes and left the ship. Erik, who preferred to have his private spaces organized, had continued on, unpacking his own belongings. Books on politics and history interspersed with poetry and a few classical novels. Hand-embroidered pillows on the sofa and a thick over-sized afghan. He had a work order in to convert one wall to a fireplace, artificial but the best you could do on a starship, and a heavy wooden mantle where would stand an array of old-fashioned photographs of family members, and in front of it, a pair of wing back chairs in front and soft, thick area rug. Clusters of candles on the hand-made end table between the chairs and on the coffee table. Mys. Cozy and comfortable.

His Ready Room also followed that principle. A small cluster of photographs on his desk along with a candy dish filled with his favorite pick and mix, paintings of the area of Sweden where he had grown up, and clusters of books interspersed with a few statues, gifts from previous ships, including a troll, a Näcken, The Viking Ragnar Lodbrok and a pair of Swedish Lapphunds. The furniture had been changed out, wooden furniture and warmer colors. And in the conference room, a large carafe of "egg coffee." a plate of cinnamon rolls, and Chokladbollar (chocolate balls rolled in coconut) dominated the center of the table along with enough coffee mugs for everyone. He had sent out the call for the Senior Staff to meet at 0800 and planned on being there to greet them but was waylaid by a call from Admiral Scofield. Muttering in Swedish, he headed into his Ready Room to receive whatever final instructions the Admiral had to give.

Word traveled fast on a starship, and talk of the new arrival had not failed to disappoint. By the time she had completed a morning run and workout, Lieutenant Trynn had heard some weird and wonderful stories spreading like wildfire amongst the lower decks around the new arrival. If even half of it were to be believed, then the meeting the senior staff had been summoned to would certainly be … fascinating.

Appearing to be the first to arrive she took in the scene with curiosity, conveyed by a slightly raised left eyebrow. After a moment of deliberation she helped herself to some coffee as she massaged her shoulder, feeling the tell tale ache of a few strained muscles. Deciding not to sample any of the unfamiliar food - which certainly looked appealing even if it did not smell that way - she picked a seat out near the far side of the table. Quite content to remain on the outside where she could observe, especially after the toll the last mission had taken.

Fresh from his conversation with the Admiral, Norsgaard returned to the Conference Room, smiling as he saw the first of the Senior Staff there. "I recommend the Chokladbollar," he said as picked one up and popped it into his mouth. He poured himself a mug of coffee and then, when he'd finished chewing, added, "my sister-in-law makes them herself. She sent along some to share." He shook his head, a fond smile on his face. "I had this feeling she was sending me off to my first day at a new school." He circled around the table and sat at the head. "I'm Captain Norsgaard. And you are?"

Swallowing a mouthful of the rich coffee as the doors to the conference room had opened, Ayryn had watched the towering figure with quiet curiosity. The confidence was there, the self assured demeanor which was offset by his relaxed and unmistakably affectionate smile as he spoke of his family. “Very kind of her,” Ayryn observed with a warm smile, although she made no move to partake of any food. “I am Lieutenant Ayryn Trynn, ship’s counsellor.”

"A pleasure, Counselor," Norsgaard said. He made no comment on the food though he noted, in that way he had, of who joined in and who stood back. Over time, tidbits of information began to fit together, form patterns, something the hunter in him found as natural as breathing.

Stormy was the next to arrive. She walked in and took a good look around. Then, nodding to the others, she got herself something to eat before going over to the table to sit down.

Having become reacquainted with his former Captain the other day, Daegan knew what other only gossiping about but he made sure to stir clear of everything, shutting down the rumor mill with his own department when needed. Upon entering the room he saw the spread and shook his head at the sight of the Chokladbollar, still not one for coconut. Look up at the Captain he nodded, selecting a cinnamon roll before taking his seat.

Norsgaard nodded to Daegan as he entered the conference room and turned his attention to the preparations needed to set up the first part of the meeting.

Knox had arrived and entered the room cautiously. He studied what was available and opted to stick with pouring a mug of coffee and settling it. At least for the time being, coffee would do the trick. "Good morning, Captain," Knox said in short pleasantry.

The door slid open again, and Dr. Patrick Ryan stepped inside, the familiar scent of strong coffee and cinnamon greeting him before the people did. His gaze swept the room briefly—Trynn nursing her mug, Stormy already digging in, and the new captain comfortably at the head of the table like he'd been there for years instead of minutes.

“Doctor Ryan,” he said simply, offering a polite nod toward Norsgaard. His voice carried that calm steadiness that came with long hours in sickbay and too many emergencies to count. “Chief Medical Officer.” He took a seat a few chairs down from Trynn, resting a padd beside his cup. After a beat, his eyes shifted to the carafe and the plate of pastries, an amused smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “You might single-handedly be responsible for a spike in cholesterol across the senior staff, Captain.”

Ryan's tone made it clear it was meant as a compliment more than criticism. He reached for a cinnamon roll anyway, breaking it in half. “Though I’ll admit, if this is how we’re starting staff meetings, I may have to start recommending them as therapy.” Leaning back slightly, he studied the new CO more directly. “Welcome aboard, Captain Norsgaard. I take it Admiral Scofield didn’t give you too many last-minute surprises?”

"We do have a mission," Norsgaard said, "but mostly it was just updating me on the situation. He gestured toward the baked goods with one hand, the other firmly wrapped around his coffee mug, "all of that is from my brother's wife. I don't bake so, don't expect anything more until we return to Earth. Though I'm sure we can dream up something from the replicators until then. To satisfy my own curiosity, how did you know ... who I was ... and that I was speaking with Admiral Scofield?"

Patrick’s smile deepened slightly at the question, though his tone stayed even. “Let’s just say word travels quickly on a ship, Captain — particularly when a new commanding officer beams aboard and the comms light up like a Christmas tree for a priority transmission.”

He reached for his mug, pausing long enough for a sip before continuing, a faint glint of amusement in his eyes. “Between the gossip mill, a few contacts at Headquarters, and some friends still haunting the halls of Starfleet Medical, it wasn’t hard to piece together who you were meeting with. By the time I finished morning rounds, half the lower decks had already concluded you were either a tactical prodigy, an undercover admiral, or the brother-in-law of someone very well connected in the baked-goods industry.”

Setting the mug down, he added more lightly, “And the rest I recognized from experience — the look of someone who’s just had their first briefing from Scofield. It’s a mix of anticipation and mild heartburn. Fairly diagnostic, actually.”

He leaned back slightly, breaking off the remaining half of his cinnamon roll. “Don’t worry, Captain. I’m very good at keeping confidence. And if you keep serving these, you’ll have no trouble winning hearts before the first staff report even lands on your desk.”

Typical of engineers, Juliette had somehow managed to not hear the rumors. Although even if she had heard them, she probably would have disbelieved them until she found out first hand. She had fallen for far too many rumors in her day to take much stock in them now. So, she arrived in the conference room, she glanced at the others already there, noted the newcomer- he was cute, she thought- and offered them a charming smile. “Wotcher,” she said by way of greeting, quickly choosing her seat.

Brow slightly furrowed in confusion, Ayryn glanced over at the engineer. “Wotcher?” She repeated curiously, puzzled by the unfamiliar word. From context she gleamed it was meant as a greeting yet not one she had heard before.

“Sorry,” answered Juliette with a cheeky grin. “It’s a greeting. It’s sort of like saying ‘how’s it going?’”

After the ringer that the Thunderbird had been through Tyler had no short amount of work to do. There were systems maintenance and diagnostics that needed doing. Sure he had heard the rumors about the Captain. Something about him being ill, or going on sabbatical. So, it was not a surprise when he got the call to go to the Conference Room. Tyler would not admit it to anyone but he would rather be doing literally anything than walking into the Conference Room to meet yet another commanding officer in his career, and yet here he was. Tyler walked in and took the remaining open seat. "Captain." Was all he said as he sat down.

Norsgaard nodded, surprised at the curtness of the man's greeting to his new commanding officer, but said nothing.

[Short While Later]

"Good morning," Norsgaard said. "Before we get started, I have someone who wants to speak with you." Moments later, the conference room switched from the Starfleet logo to Captain Gray against what was obviously a medical facility background.

"I wanted a chance to speak with you all," Rylan said, "and I apologize for not doing this in person. Those of you who reached out to me personally, before I left, already know but for the rest, allow me to clear things up now. I'm not doing well, physically, and it appears that I have a long recuperation ahead of me. I fought for rehabilitation overseen by Lieutenant Ryan but the decision went against me. Lieutenants Knight and Trynn, your work in developing a cure saved not only Doctor Ryan and myself but the future of Guran III as well. And commendations have been added to your permanent record to reflect your good work. Now, as to the ship. I have turned over command to Captain Norsgaard. I don't know what the future holds or what Starfleet intends, so consider this a permanent change of command." He paused for a moment, to draw breath, to maintain his composure, "I trust that you will all give him your loyalty and best efforts. I may be out of action for now but the ship isn't. You've got work to do. Gray out."

[Continued on Part 2]

 

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