Red Alert (Part 1)
Posted on Sun Jan 25th, 2026 @ 12:06am by Captain Erik Norsgaard & Lieutenant Tyler Malbrooke & Lieutenant Daegan Baas & Lieutenant Juliette Barnes & Lieutenant Tatiana Dragos & Lieutenant Patrick Ryan M.D. & Lieutenant Stormy Knight & Lieutenant JG Caitlyn MacRae
3,197 words; about a 16 minute read
Mission:
Wolf in the Fold: Hide and Seek
Location: Various, USS Thunderbird
[Medical Storeroom]
Chase me… over and over the words echoed in the void until there was nothing. No sight, no sound, no fear and no pain. And then the oblivion was shattered, reality crashing over her in a wave. Her eyes flew open, unfocused and met with a wall of indistinct shapes and a myriad of colours which did nothing to ease the disorientation.
What the hell had happened…? Flashes of memory rushed forward, disjointed and fragmented. But enough to make her feel that fear, imagine the tight grip around her throat. It wasn’t safe. She had to move. Had to warn -
It was agony, trying to climb to her feet and immediately she fell in almost exactly the same spot. Yet now she saw something else. Metallic… her hand brushed against it, her fingers closing around the familiar shape. A comm badge! But call who? So many people - strangers all of them. Almost all.
It took three tries to even speak and all she could do was hope he would answer. “MacRae to Norsgaard… Erik?”
"Caitlyn," Erik said, already rising from the seat he'd been sitting in, "you alright?"
“No. There was…” her words trailed off, . Biting down on her lip, she tried again to move. “So fast and strong….”
"Stay where you are," Erik said, his deep voice laced with concern. "I'm coming to you." He didn't waste time getting dressed. He just grabbed his commbadge and barked, "Computer. Locate Lieutenant Caitlyn MacRae."
"Lieutenant Caitlyn MacRae is located in Medical Storeroom 6 on Deck 12."
Dressed in pajama bottoms and a robe, he hurried to the storeroom and found her lying on the floor a couple of feet within the door. Concerned, he dropped to his knees and pulled her into his arms. "Caitlyn," he said softly, his accent thickening in the emotions of the moment, "Caitlyn ... are you alright?"
It had gone silent after his promise and then he was right there. “Hey handsome,” she breathed, trying to breathe around a few broken ribs. “Been better… We have to find … there’s three of you! I like it…”
"I have it on good authority," Erik said, a warm smile spreading on his face, "that the universe couldn't tolerate more than one of me. I'm getting you some help. Bridge, this is the Captain. Red Alert. Notify Sickbay, I need a medical team, and have Lieutenant Bass meet me. I'm in one of the medical storerooms on Deck 12. On the run, Bridge."
In response the red alert klaxon began sounding all over the ship and the Bridge, following its protocols, shut down the transporters and the Flight Deck, while the on-duty Operations officer notified the First Officer and the Department Heads, including the Captain's orders for a medical team to be dispatched to his location and the Chief of Security to meet him in the storeroom.
“So much fuss,” MacRae complained as she leaned into him, closing her eyes as she focused on breathing. So much noise. And soon it was joined by the sound of approaching footsteps.
Patrick was already moving when the red alert hit. The klaxon cut through Sickbay like a blade, and the location tag scrolling across his console made his jaw tighten. Medical Storeroom 6. Deck 12. Of all places.
“Trauma team with me,” he said, voice calm, clipped. “Stretcher, analgesics, cortical stabilizer. Move.” He was at the doorway just as Security cleared space for him. One look at Caitlyn—her breathing, the way she guarded her ribs, the pallor under the sweat—and Patrick was kneeling beside her, hands steady and sure.
“Hey,” he said softly, grounding her before she could try to move again. “Don’t talk. Don’t try to be brave. I’ve got you.” His tricorder swept once, twice. “Confirmed rib fractures. Possible laryngeal bruising. Oxygen saturation’s dipping.” He glanced up briefly. “Captain, she needs Sickbay. Now.”
He was already administering a hypo, his other hand firm at her shoulder to keep her still. “You’re safe,” Patrick added, quieter now, meant only for her. “Whatever did this doesn’t get another chance tonight. Just breathe. I’ll do the rest.”
Caitlyn was tired, and definitely in no condition to be a difficult patient. She had to admit, he had a nice bedside manner and whatever he gave her made the world stop spinning. She opened her eyes, unfamiliar faces passing across her field of view.
“Sorry about the mess,” she offered, catching a glimpse of the carnage the toppled units had created down one side of the room as she looked for Norsgaard. His towering figure was not hard to spot. And in a sea of uniforms his attire seemed all the more surreal. “Very distracting,” she murmured with a small smile as the tiredness overwhelmed her and lost consciousness.
"Alright, get her to Sickbay," Erik ordered and about then a soft moan from a shadowed corner of the storeroom alerted his attention. "There's someone back there." He moved forward at once, barefoot, his robe billowing slightly, as he found a young, female crewman just stirring. "Doctor, we have another one back here."
After sending the request denial Baas had laid back on the bed, still dressed from his date but when the klaxons sounded he was up and out the door heading to the bridge before word reached him that he was needed elsewhere. Redirecting the lift he arrived at storeroom, hearing the Captain's voice coming from inside. Grabbing one of the security team. "Be sure to document everyone that has been in there since the Captain's alert."
Entering with the medics, a phaser at the ready, he scanned the rest of the room. Several racks had been toppled, nothing but supplies. "I'm not detecting anyone else in the room Captain." Two injured, the Captain in his robe and pajamas, "Do we know what happened here sir?"
"Lieutenant MacRae and Crewman Yates have been attacked," Erik said. "The Lieutenant needs to get to Sickbay. Unsure about the crewman. Once the doctor permits, you can question them there but I want them guarded until we figure out what happened. Report to me once you have an idea of what's going on."
Gesturing to several of his people already there, they departed to watch over the two victims while he looked over the scene. "I'll get the area scanned for DNA. If either of them managed to put up a fight we might get the attackers DNA from them as well."
Entering the room as the captain and Lieutenant Bass were speaking, Lieutenant Trynn took in the scene in silence, Several questions came to mind but she had overheard enough as she entered to get the general, vague, idea. So she simply asked, “where do you need me?” Dr Ryan seemed to have matters in hand, his people working under his instruction with typical professionalism.
Patrick barely glanced up from Caitlyn as the rest of the room filled in around him.
“Captain,” he said calmly, efficiently, hands never stopping as his team stabilized the second patient. “Lieutenant MacRae has multiple rib fractures, laryngeal trauma, and a hypoxic episode. She’s sedated and stable, but she’s going straight to Sickbay and she stays under guard.”
He shifted to the crewman in the corner, already scanning.
“Crewman Yates is concussed, probable strangulation, shock. Same protocol.”
Only then did he look at Bass and Trynn, his expression set and professional—but tight around the eyes.
“This wasn’t an accident,” Patrick said quietly. “Both injuries are consistent with an assault. Same method.”
To Trynn, with a brief nod: “Once they’re cleared medically, I’ll let you know when—and if—they’re fit to answer questions. Until then, they’re patients.”
Then, softer, almost to himself as the gurneys rolled out:
“Whatever did this knew where to strike. And it knew how to vanish.”
Baas continued, "We should also check on our guests as well. If one of them was the attacker, we need to move quickly so they don't destroy evidence."
"Disguise it as a welfare check," Erik said. "We've had some trouble and we wanted to make sure they're alright. Our relationship with Bajor is tenuous at best. No need to make it worse unless we have to."
"Understood sir." Stepping aside Daegan instructed a pair of Security on what needed to be done and how. He wanted to stay here so he could see what information he could get from the the initial scans of the crime scene and the tests on the two victims.
[Science]
The sound of the klaxons woke Stormy. For a moment, she had no idea why she was on the deck. Then she swallowed and the pain brought back her memories. Someone entering the lab. No warning. No feeling of menace. Then, just as an arm came around her throat she felt the desperation, the...hunger, the regret. Not for what he was doing to her. No, the regret was that he couldn't do more. The need to escape. She tried to fight, but he--at least she thought it was a he--was too strong, too quick to block her. Then...nothing. She put a hand to her neck and gently touched it once, then dropped her hand. She needed to get to sickbay. She tried to roll over and sit up, but a wave of dizziness caused her to lay back down and tapped her commbadge. "Knight to sickbay," she whispered. "Send medical to science lab 3."
She considered calling security about an intruder, but she had no idea how long she'd been unconscious. And, the alert klaxon probably meant they already knew.
Patrick responded immediately, his tone calm and clinical.
“Sickbay here. Acknowledged.”
He was already pulling up the location data as he spoke. “Medical team is en route to Science Lab Three. Remain where you are and do not attempt to stand.”
"Got it." Stormy didn't think she could stand if she tried. "Thank you." She made herself a little more comfortable and waited. It sounded like there was a lot going on, and the rising tension in the crew around her--which was usually nothing more than white noise--was giving her a headache.
[Engineering]
Ensign Nyol had, until the red alert Klaxon began to blare, been having a busy but productive evening. Assisted by Petty Officer Wilson, he had successfully isolated the cause of a replicator malfunction, identified and implemented a fix and enjoyed a delightful kind of soup before they began the more tedious task of aligning sensors.
His companion had been explaining some Human soups were served cold - on purpose! Quite fascinating. Was there no end to the wonders of soup? Before he could engage in further conversation, however, the alarm began to blare.
“We should report to main engineering,” he advised, closing up the panel and quickly but methodically packing up his kit. “Let’s go.”
He had memorised the layout of the ship. Every nook and cranny. Which allowed him to led the way through Jeffries tubes and finally down a ladder, descending into main engineering - his back to the warp core. With one hand on the ladder he became aware of the silence.
In between the klaxon there was nothing but the steady hum of the core. No voices, no movement.
It struck him as odd and as he turned, one hand still on the ladder, he discovered why. “Oh dear,” he sighed, his blue skin becoming a paler shade as he saw his friends and colleagues unconscious everywhere he looked. Some sprawled out on the deck, some slumped over consoles..
“Wait there,” he called up to Wilson. He had no idea what had happened but to effect everyone - that suggested something widespread and he immediately thought of the air. If it was tainted in some way, he was perhaps in a unique position to help. And tell someone.
Chief! Spying Chief Barnes he hurried over to her, sighing with relief when he felt a pulse. Looking around he spotted the small breathing masks lined up neatly. Designed for emergency use with a limited air supply. But maybe it would help?
As he retrieved one he tapped his comm badge. “Ensign Nyol to Medical.. hello?” What if it was the Bridge too? What if it was everywhere?
As he waited for an answer he slipped the mask over Barnes’ face, hoping the clean supply of air would help bring her round. “Chief? Can you here me?”
Julie could, in fact, hear him, as if from far away. His voice seemed to echo off several hound feet of Jeffries tube. She attempted to open her eyes and failed. She tried to speak, but could manage no more than an incoherent, “grrrrrrssssgghhh.”
Patrick’s reply came back promptly, crisp but calm.
“Medical here. Go ahead.”
“We need help down in engineering!” Nyol replied, “everyone is unconscious! I think something in the air maybe but there are no warnings … a few people I think hurt themselves when they passed out…”
As the channel stayed open, he listened—caught the uneven breathing, the muffled sounds, the strain in the ensign’s voice.
“We could use some help but … maybe wear a suit until we have figured out what it is? I don’t know how many but it’s a lot. I put a breathing mask on the Chief … I think it is helping.”
Patrick’s posture went still the moment Nyol finished speaking.
“Understood,” he replied, voice calm but instantly authoritative. “You did exactly the right thing.”
His fingers flew across the console as he spoke.
“All hands in Engineering are to remain where they are. Do not remove breathing protection.” He keyed another channel. “Sickbay to HazMat response—full environmental suits, portable atmosphere scrubbers, and antitoxin scanners. Engineering, Deck—priority one.” Back to Nyol, steady and grounding, “Ensign, keep the mask on the Chief. If you have access to additional respirators, place them on anyone you can safely reach without removing your own protection.” A brief pause. “Do not attempt to evacuate yet.” His tone softened just a fraction. “You caught this early. That matters.” Then, clinical again: “Stay on the line with me. Tell me if anything changes—air readings, symptoms, or consciousness. Help is already on the way.”
“Is she okay?” Wilson asked, her voice muffled by a mask of her own as she appeared beside him.
“Just knocked out, I think,” he replied as he moved to check on those nearby.
“What do we do?”
“Stay with the Chief. Don’t worry. Medical help is coming,” he assured her as he tapped his comm badge.
“Engineering to Bridge… this is Ensign Nyol. Something has happened down here… they are all unconscious…we could use some help. I’ve alerted medical,” he reported.
Tyler was a little overwhelmed with all the reports coming in. However, he maintained his composure and continued to get the assistance to those that need it. There seemed to be something going on with the environmental system. He wanted to investigate first hand, however, he was in command and could not leave the bridge. "I am sending engineering and operations teams as well. I will work the problem from the Bridge. Keep me informed."
“Chief. It’s Katie. Katie Wilson?” Wilson said as she knelt beside the chief. “I erm… threw up in the turbolift the day we met? Right… not important. But I’m here. Just try and take nice deep breaths and the medics will be here soon.”
But Julie’s memory was far too fragmented at the moment. She vaguely remembered someone throwing up in a turbo lift somewhere. Had it been the voice speaking now. She tried to open her eyes again and this time managed it- for a moment, at least. That was progress. But then, she groaned and her eyes fluttered closed again. Give it time, Julie, she told herself.
[Medical]
Having hear the call from Engineering Baas was already on his communicator talking to his people, "Baas to Security. Gamma team 3 secure and search main engineering, team 4 Science. Medical teams are on the way. Baas out." Returning to the Captain, "Sir. Something isn't right... We are being spread all across the ship. Permission to take a team or two to the flight deck."
"That would spread us out even further but I do agree," Erik said. "Do your check. I'll order the department heads to check as well once I get to the Bridge."
Already walking backward towards the door moving faster with each step. "Not if we pull in the other shifts..." Once in the corridor he issued his orders calling every member of security back to duty. "Gamma teams 1 & 2 meet me on the flight deck. Team 1 Aft, Team 2 Fore. Alpha teams secure all critical areas of the shift. Beta teams, get a head count and secure our guests, multiple two man roving patrols on critical decks, and setup rapid response in reserve! Our suspect is possibly one of the Bajoran prisoners and may have offensive and defensive injuries..." Trying to remember who was on duty on the bridge, "Ensignnn...T'I..."
== T'plil sir. ==
"T'plil, get into the security footage find out who we are looking for get a description out."
Closing the channel he darted into a lift. "Deck 12, Fore entry!"
[Bridge]
Tyler had been given command of the Bridge when the XO and Security Chief departed to respond to the Captain's request. While he sat in the center chair he routed all the Operations data through to the CO's terminal. There were reports of injuries all over the ship and yet they were not attacked. Tyler's thoughts turned toward Stormy. He hoped that she was not one of the injured. Systems seemed stable for the moment. In fact if it were not for the injuries everything aboard the Wolff would be business as usual. Was it just a coincidence that all of these injuries occurred? Perhaps, but Tyler did not believe in coincidences. He decided to scan the entire sector for anything and anything, including possibly cloaked ships.
[Intell Office]
Tatiana was in her office poring over the information she had been sifting through. She had lost track of time, found that her eyes were starting to drift close. The blaring of the red alert Klaxon startled her, Tatiana's eyes flashing open her adrenaline kicking in. She was definitely awake now. She was out of her seat, something was happening. She heard the chatter over the comms, her brow furrowed.
Who did the attack? And Caitlyn was attacked along with others? Tatiana left the office, pausing to lock it up tight, and went to see how people were.
Arriving at medical, she stayed out of the way looking to see who was brought in.
Captain Erik Norsgaard
Commanding Officer
USS Thunderbird
Lieutenant Patrick Ryan, M.D.
Chief Medical Officer
USS Thunderbird
Lieutenant Tyler Malbrooke
Chief Operations Officer
USS Thunderbird
Lieutenant Caitlyn MacRae
Operations Officer
USS Thunderbird
Lieutenant Stormy Knight
Chief Science Officer
USS Thunderbird
Lieutenant Tatiana Dragos
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Thunderbird
Lieutenant Juliette Barnes
Chief Engineer
USS Thunderbird
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