Time to Go

Posted on Tue Jan 20th, 2026 @ 3:56am by Lieutenant Daegan Baas & Lieutenant Juliette Barnes & Lieutenant Patrick Ryan M.D. & Lieutenant Stormy Knight & Captain Erik Norsgaard
Edited on on Sat Jan 24th, 2026 @ 11:11pm

3,204 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Wolf in the Fold: Hide and Seek
Location: Various, USS Thunderbird

He lay on the (too soft) bed, feet together, hands folded across his chest, staring up at the ceiling for the ship to settle. The Bajorans would be up for hours, whispering amongst themselves as they had during their captivity, but that didn't matter. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. A frisson of desire moved through him, his fingers itching for the heft of a blade. The thin crewman that moved about, sliding between the others in their ... Sickbay ... without drawing attention. The way her heartbeat picked up when he met her gaze and her eyes widened. Fear had a taste. He ran his hands along the tops of his thighs. Remembering. Imagining. Wanting. Hungering.

He indulged that. Soon, he promised himself. Soon. But first, escape. There were sharp eyes here. Not impossible but ... there would be a need to rush and he didn't want to rush. This need to be slow. Exquisitely so. Therefore, escape. Establish a territory. Then ... oh yes, then ...

[Well Into Gamma Shift]

When the voices had quieted down, he rose and dressed in the dark and silently, left his cabin. He stopped a crewman, touched his shoulder briefly, imparting the desire to sleep, to rest, as he asked directions to a place to eat. He listened though the words didn't matter. The voice did. The way he gestured with his hands, the way his eyes seldom stopped moving. He listened. Memorized and then, when the conversation slowed, thanked the man and moved on. When he turned the corner, Zeryn, once known as Zero, was gone; replaced by the tired crewman who was bound for bed. The Science Lab first. He understood chemicals. They would have what he needed.

[Science]

Stormy was repurposing one of the science labs to study relic waves predicted by cosmic inflation. It would also let them track particle waves and other spatial phenomenon. With some of their recent travels, it felt prudent to have one lab set up specifically to sift through all the stellar data and collate and archive what they did find. Yes, there was plenty of data already, but this way, they could track changes, which could prove interesting over time. Classical music played softly in the background as she worked.

The door stood open. Good. Zeryn, wearing his crewman face, stepped into the lab. Looks didn't matter. Ugly. Pretty. Unnoticeable. One face was as good as another. What mattered was ... a frisson of desire slid along his nerve endings. No, escape first, he promised himself, then play though he imagined what he would do ... while he walked softly through the open doorway. Softly. So softly. From his first steps, quiet meant freedom from pain. He was good at quiet. Beyond good. He slipped unnoticed into the lab and paused for the barest of seconds to study the woman bent over a console. She might hear, he thought. That would not be good. She needs to sleep, a voice whispered in his mind, and another voice, lower, more sibilant, added, dead is quiet ... No. Sleep. He moved closer ... one silent step after the other until finally, his arms were around her throat.

Stormy sensed someone enter the lab. She didn't think she'd met whoever it was. But then, she hadn't met everyone on the ship yet, either. But they were trying to be quiet? That felt...odd. For a moment she thought they were just trying to be polite and not interrupt ther, but then... And then there was a flash of something that came and went too quickly to comprehend. But it was dark. Terrifying. She began to turn, but then arms wrapped around her neck and she cried out, verbally and telepathically. Then she began to fight.

"Hush now," Zeryn whispered against her ear. "Hush and be grateful I'm in a hurry." The pressure increased as her movements began to slow. "Sleep now and dream of me because I'll remember you."

Stormy wanted to keep fighting. She didn't know if he wanted to kill her or just incapacitate her, but she couldn't take that chance. However, as much as she tried to struggle, to kick or elbow her assailant, he had too strong a grip on her. The more she tried to fight, the weaker she became, until finally she slumped to the floor, unconscious.

He had what he needed. Before leaving, he knelt beside the officer's still form, noted the ride and fall of her chest, the brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. "Sleep well, beauty. Maybe we'll meet again under more ... pleasurable ... circumstances." He smiled, a chill thing that never spread past his lips, and walked out.

[Meanwhile, Elsewhere on the USS Thunderbird]

Closing the communications channel, Ayryn Trynn had sat for a long moment in silence. Unable to sleep, again, she had worked late to finalise initial reports on their guests. Now it was late and the silence in her office felt… suffocating. Oppressive. Maybe it was time to seek some medical intervention but she could not imagine Dr Ryan offering something useful without questions.

Perhaps meditation?

With nothing here to serve as distraction, she left the quiet of her office for the equally quiet corridors. Earlier this part of the ship had been bustling with activity but now the former prisoners were assigned to quarters, resting and recuperating in their assigned quarters. In days they would be home and then the next stage of the mission would begin.

As she walked, her preoccupation with anything and everything carried her past sickbay, round the corner and towards the turbolift. She nodded to one of the medical technicians who passed by, ferrying supplies and making use of the quieter time. Once he had passed by that same quietness fell again as she continued on her way. At least until…

Zeryn, who had switched again, and then again, fell into step behind a young, sleepy-eyed crewman, arms full of packages, and he stepped forward. The smile, practiced and certain, that lit the eyes just enough to obscure the emptiness lurking in their depths, appeared as he offered, in a shy, stuttering voice, to help carry the packages. The technician agreed, sighing with relief as she rotated her shoulders, and he watched, his shuttered gaze following the rotation of her slim shoulders, sliding downward as she turned toward the storeroom. He kept pace behind her, one step back, matching her movements. Hunting in plain sight, his hunger growing as he followed.

Rounding the corner, Ayryn quickly sidestepped to avoid colliding with the two people coming from the opposite direction. Thankfully no harm done yet it was enough to bring her back to the here and now and - with that - she realised she had left her notes for tomorrow morning’s appointments behind. After a moment of indecision she decided to about turn, heading back towards her office.

She quickly passed the two crewmen she had almost collided with, both of them heading inside a store room for the labs while she continued on.

[Meanwhile, in Sickbay]

Patrick sat in his office, the hum of the ship a low, familiar presence around him as he worked through reports that refused to stay caught up. Gamma shift always felt like this—quiet enough to think, but never truly still. He paused, fingers resting on the edge of the desk, that faint, uneasy prickle settling between his shoulders. Nothing he could point to. No alarms. No calls for assistance. Just instinct—earned the hard way over years of dealing with what hid behind calm facades and polite smiles.

He exhaled slowly and tapped his console. “Computer, flag all movements of the former detainees through medical and science sections. Priority review.” It wasn’t suspicion. Not yet. Just caution. And in Patrick’s line of work, that was usually enough to save lives.

"Request requires the approval of the Chief of Security," the computer responded, "and notification of the scan to the Captain and First Officer. Do you wish to make a formal request?"

Patrick didn’t look away from the console, but one brow lifted slightly. “…That’s new.”

He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled for a moment as he considered the wording. As CMO, he was used to medical requests clearing without a ripple—this kind of wall meant someone, somewhere, had already tightened protocols. He straightened and spoke calmly. “Yes. Make it a formal request. Route it to the Chief of Security, and notify the Captain and First Officer.” A beat. “And tag it as a medical precaution, not an investigation.” He paused, then added more quietly, “Better to explain caution than regret inaction.”

[Deck 2 - 0300]

Daegan walked through the corridor as he returned to his quarters yawning as he did. It had been a double feature movie night with Jules and they had both fallen asleep next to each other. Before he had left he had picked her up and laid her on her her bed and kissed her forehead after covering her up.

Reaching his room he entered and felt a twinge of hunger and decided on a snack. Food in hand he sat on the sofa with a padd and began reviewing the latest duty roster noticing, with some satisfaction, that Mathewson's turn had come up and would be rotating to beta shift.

Taking a bite he munched as the continued.

[Bridge]

The computer responded, following its protocols, and a formal request for a scan of the Bajorans was routed to Security where the on-duty security officer, after offering up a silent hope that the Chief wasn't sleeping, obediently notified the Chief of Security. And routed its actions to the Bridge where the watch officer, offering up a silent hope, notified the Captain and First Officer. With that done, he settled back into place, muttering, "hope you know what you're doing, Doc."

[Baas' Quarters]

Look from the padd as the terminal on his desk chimed with the arrival of a new message. Setting the padd aside he rose, moving to his desk he sat, activating his monitor. He read the request from the CMO and wondered why he wanted to track their guests. That type of thing would have normally been his department's job anyway.

Leaning back he weighed the pros, cons, and ramifications. He had been instructed to make sure they were treated as guests and the surveillance of anyone without justification was a huge deal. After a deep breath and an audible exhale.... "Computer, reply to the CMO's request with the following and include both the Captain and XO on the reply: Unless properly justified such tracking is a violation of privacy rights, request denied."

Erik, roused out of a deep sleep, got out of bed, pulling on a robe as he made his way to his desk and flopped down, yawning as he looked over the chain of events. He agreed. The Bajorans had been prisoners, granted no privacy, and wanted nothing more than to be left alone. If Baas felt there was no need for the scan, he trusted the man's judgement. Still yawning, Erik indicated his review and agreement; he thought about going back to bed but he was awake now and so, he busied himself making a cup of tea while downloading reports onto his PADD. A bit of reading in bed, he'd be back to sleep in no time.

[Meanwhile]

The urge. The need. The hunger. He felt it, predatory and prowling within the confines of his body, tingling along his nerve endings as his hand slipped down to the knife he carried. So long, he thought. Too long. And yet, Father had trained him from the first moments of his existence in his duties and obligations. The words hammered through him as they sometimes did. You are meant to kill. We call you to the hunt, give you a name, a face, and release you. Remember your duty always. Word chains that held him no longer. Still, the tools and training Father had provided told him that he hadn't the luxury of time here and though he ached with the need to open her, he kept to business. He moved quickly, silently, a product of his worlds genetics program, and within mere moments, he had her in his grasp, already shifting into her form as he applied pressure, same as before.

Emerging from the turbolift, Lieutenant MacRae was making her way towards Sickbay. She was still out of uniform, since she was technically off duty until tomorrow. Yet she was unable to do as Erik had suggested and sleep. At least not without the nightmares… and so she decided to seek out some temporary relief. Hopefully with a side of very few questions…

Rounding the corner she noted some supplies waiting to be moved, with no sign of whoever was doing the moving. Not entirely odd. It was the middle of the night, after all, so staff levels were at a minimum. Indeed she had been able to do most of her best work - her real work - in the dead of night.

As she passed the store room there was the softest of sounds, as if something had fallen. It didn’t sound bad, it was more the immediate silence afterwards that made her curious. “Is everything okay?” She called out as she stepped inside , moving around the first row of storage shelves.

Every step made her instincts scream in her ear and she trusted them. Enough that she almost about turned. That would have been sensible. Because the silence in here was very wrong. Enough that she actually began doubting if she had heard anything at all.

“Hello?” She turned, finding shelves towering above her in every direction. And silence. Perhaps it had been her imagination. Tiredness. Still she took another step and another, moving deeper into the room.

He guided her body to the floor, tucked out of sight, and stepped deeper into the shadows, circling, looking for an opening. Three women and all to be left sleeping? There was a joke in this though humor was not a gift that Father had given him. Escape. Find a hunting ground. But first escape.

It was just a shadow, a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision as she had started moving towards the doorway. Undefined, yet enough to make her certain it was a person in the heartbeat it took for that shadow to be almost on top of her.

Challenge. Fear was good. Fight that turned to fear was so ... much .... better. A bare ghost of a smile lifting his lips as he closed the gap, his voice a silken purr in her ear. "Fight," he whispered, a soft sibilant sound, "oh please, fight."

The voice, the plea, echoed in her ear as she did the only thing she could do in a confined space and with what Admital Schofield called ‘issues’. She went on the offensive. She had no idea what was going on but if this person wanted a fight -

The first flurry was intense - yet it quickly became evident that where her hits barely seemed to trouble them, their blows were far more powerful. It caught her off guard, surprised her… but there was no time to dwell on the matter. She tasted the blood in her mouth as a blow caught the side of her face, putting her firmly on the defensive but as her assailant rushed at her. Together they crashed into one of the storage units, the neatly organised supplies crashing to the deck as the unit toppled, falling forward into the next one as each stack fell like dominos.

She had a brief thought about someone being really annoyed at the mess, but only briefly as she rolled away from the next attack to try and get back to her feet. It was harder than it should have been and the room was spinning from a head knock she had earned from collision with the unit.

“That all you got?” She breathed, the words barely audible as she tried to get air back into her lungs. She had taken less of a beating at the hands of a very irate Klingon and she knew, deep down she was done. Hell would freeze over before she ran from a fight or admit defeat.

It was a stupid move, goading them like that, especially as she watched her advance and seeming to have barely a scratch. Althpugh there was a limp, and she felt a little satisfaction at that. Just a little. Not that she had much chance to enjoy that feeling.

He surged forward, overwhelming her defenses, and pulling her into a tight embrace, one strong arm locked around her throat. He breathed in the scent of her, the fear, the bravado, and rubbed his cheek along the top of her head. "We'll have to meet again beauty," he whispered, his voice soft, slithering across her ear, as he applied pressure. Enough to render her unconscious without stopping her heart. "Chase me," he urged as he felt her movements slow, become more feeble. "Please."

Her attacker’s movements were like lightning, every defensive move countered until there was no more moves to make. As the pressure on her throat made her lungs burn for air, her hold prevented her from breaking free. She tried, naturally.but nothing worked and yes, there was that moment of fear. Of feeling helpless as those words followed her into the dark.

Meanwhile, in Main Engineering

It was wasn’t unusual to find the Chief Engineering in main Engineering outside of Alpha shift- doubly so if the Chief Engineer was Juliette Barnes. It wasn’t that she worked long hours- well, not always- but that she sometimes like to swap shifts with her assistant chief, just for a change of pace.

Plus, she liked to oversee diagnostics every once in awhile and it was easier to run them on Gamma shift.

She studied the readout on a console, then tapped something on her PADD and moved to the next console, repeating the process on five separate consoles.

He found her in Engineering. The one person that stood between him and departure though she wasn't alone and that was a problem. The trail, he thought, needed to end here. The solution had been in the storerooms and in the science lab. Bypass the filters, flood engineering with a gas that might or might not kill them all, and then, it was time to go. He understood enough of the systems on the ship to rig the bypasses he needed. It wouldn't take long. Didn't take long. And then he was on his way. In a stolen shuttle.

---

Zeryn
Lab Experiment 000
(written by Captain Erik Norsgaard)

Captain Erik Norsgaard
Commanding Officer
USS Thunderbird

Lieutenant Daegan Baas
Chief of Security
USS Thunderbird

Lieutenant Ayryn Trynn
Chief Counsellor
USS Thunderbird

Lieutenant Patrick Ryan
Chief Medical Officer
USS Thunderbird

Lieutenant Stormy Knight
Chief Science Officer
USS Thunderbird

Lieutenant Juliette Barnes
Chief Engineer
USS Thunderbird

 

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