When the dust settles
Posted on Tue Mar 17th, 2026 @ 9:55pm by Captain Erik Norsgaard & Lieutenant JG Caitlyn MacRae
3,413 words; about a 17 minute read
Mission: Wolf in the Fold: Hide and Seek
There were times, if she looked at her reflection hard enough, she could swear her skin still showed a greenish tint. Just got a moment. Reminding her of a different time. A different life under a different name. One of many.
Abandoning any hope of taming her mass of curls, she left the bathroom wrapped in a towel to find some clothes. Settling on a simple white vest top and black combat trousers from her somewhat limited collection. Within the hour she expected to have details for her return trip, and for now she was no longer officially part of the Thunderbird crew.
Which felt oddly sad. They seemed good people.
And the more she had learned about Ayryn Trynn, the more she could - on a small level - sympathise. Sometimes grief pushed people to do unimaginable things.
As the door chime rang out she could only think of two people it could possibly be. Picking “Come in,” she called out as she hastily finished dressing. Hearing the door opening she added, “be out in a second… help yourself to something from the replicator.”
With a double check in the mirror to be sure she was presentable and she hadn’t put something on inside out in her haste, she decided it would do. Leaning against the open doorframe which separated the sleeping area from the lounge she offered a small wave and a warm smile. “Always a pleasure,” she told her guest. “I’m afraid no fancy tea. Except the replicated kind.”
Erik mock-shuddered as he took in the surroundings. The interior of her bag had more personality than did the entirety of her quarters. He noted the weapons, unusual for a Starfleet officer to travel around arms, and forbidden on many vessels without the Captain's permission, and the newish looking scar on her shoulder though he turned his attention away almost at once. Habit. Captains didn't look nor did husbands -- and though Lizzie had been dead for a long time now, he had never been the type to 'ogle' those he served with. Probably, he thought, why he was still single after all this time.
"Thank you," he said, "but I'll pass. Though I wouldn't say fancy was the right word. Flavorful, yes. Worth having certainly." He smiled to lessen the sting and stood just outside of the door's sensor range Though, from where she stood, his 6'5", well-muscled frame seemed to fill the space entirely. "We haven't spoken yet about what's next for you."
“Next is…complicated,” she answered as she moved into the lounge, running a hand through her hair as she moved her kit bag from the sofa. “But first thing first, how are you? I think by any measure, that was one hell of a first mission.”
"And not over yet," Erik said as he walked over and sat on the sofa, long legs stretched out in front of him, as his gaze dropped to the ground in what friends called his thinking mode. "We still have to locate whomever it was that left the ship and killed one of our crew members. I've asked Starfleet for permission to hunt for this individual ourselves."
“I have a few less flattering names for whatever that thing was,” Caitlyn admitted as she sat down nearby, legs tucked under her. “So what did Starfleet say? Schofield seems to have a bit of a soft spot for you so I’m guessing it was a yes?”
"Schofield likes the idea of sending me after whatever it was," Erik said. "Not a direct quote but he says my Viking blood makes me good at this sort of thing. Hunting people that don't want to be found."
“He isn’t wrong,” she pointed out with a warm smile. “I can’t think of anyone better suited to the task.”
Erik grunted in response and immediately shifted his attention. "So what's so complicated about what comes next?"
She smiled ruefully, “perhaps nothing. Maybe everything.”
She sat in silence for a moment, staring out the window. Lost in thought for a long moment. “Schofield already has plans in place,” she pointed to the PaDD resting on the table. “Another undercover assignment or a desk in a basement listening to comms traffic. He loves you; he says I give him nothing but headaches. I don’t honestly think I can live with either choice.”
"And if there's a third choice," Erik asked as he picked up the PADD and skimmed the orders. He could understand how the two didn't quite get along and had disagreed with Schofield more than once on his decisions about the right sort of personnel for his ship. Sometimes, strenuously but it had always ended up with the two coming to a decision Erik could live with over a bottle of Akvavit or even Punsch when he had some in his "placate some idiot or other" stores.
One third choice was to leave it all behind. Start from scratch… and do what? Since midway through her third year as a cadet she had been in the sights of Intel. Her entire career had involved specialist training so she could be sent undercover - often with negligible support and frequently beyond the Federation’s borders.
“I already threatened Schofield - my third choice - just to get here,” she told him with a grin, “but if we have a meeting like that one again I can guarantee I’ll end up in the Brig or posted to Starbase 80. It’s … I know if he wants me to go it’s because he knows I can do that assignment. That should be enough, right?”
It used to be enough. But six months maybe more back out there with a different name and hidden agendas? It would never stop until the day she inevitably made the kind of mistake you don’t walk away from.
She would never be this honest with him and a very small circle of people. Very small. She studied him for a long moment, as he continued reading the PaDD. “Penny for your thoughts?”
"My thoughts," Erik said as he shifted so that he could look into her eyes. "I wanted to offer you an alternative path if you're reaching the point where staying undercover is getting 'old' and if that's not blunt enough for you, I want you to stay, Caitlyn. Here on the Thunderbird."
While it was rare for her to confide in people, it was rarer still for her to be left speechless. But there she was, replaying what he had said. And he was dead serious, she could tell just by looking at him. That and he had said ‘Caitlyn’.
Here… with the uniforms and the shifts and the whole being part of.a crew? His crew. It would definitely be a different path. “It is better than my backup plan to become a nun,” she confided with a warm smile. “Do you really want to deal with me on a permanent basis? Rumour has it I cause an increase in paperwork and headaches. Besides, where would I even fit in? You have an amazing Intel chief in Tatiana.”
"There'd be some re-educating," Erik said, one corner of his mouth kicking up slightly, "and you'd have to deal with me on the regular. Not always an easy thing but the work? I was thinking Second Officer and we'd rotate you through the departments so that you get a good understanding of how a starship works."
Caitlyn arched an eyebrow at his suggestion. “You are full of surprises today,” she told him, pretending to give it serious debate. “Next you’ll tell me you already made a deal with Schofield.”
"Not a deal," Erik said quietly. "But I did inquire as to the possibility and received his ... opinions ... on the matter."
She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I imagine you did. Something along the lines of questioning your sanity?” She teased. “He may have a point. I’m far more used to working in far less hospital places where the rule book was pretty much thrown out the window. But say, hypothetically, that I said yes… I do have a couple of questions.
As my Captain,” she had to pause cos that felt a little weird, “can I keep my knives? And also, can I make a confession?”
"Confession, first," Erik said, nodding to himself, "It will give me time to consider the idea of you keeping your knives."
“That’s like jumping to the good bits of the movie,” she chided him. “But it is your ship so …. Honestly, when I found out you had been given command of this ship … it kind of felt like fate throwing us back together. And I missed you a lot.”
His gaze softened, warmed, as he listened. "Can't have been easy for you, being alone so much. Living under an assumed identity more often than not." He leaned forward slightly. "And, I missed you too."
“And hypothetically, if I stay… do I finally get the dance you owe me?” She wondered why they were almost whispering. Perhaps because the distance had closed while they had been speaking, as if discussing some galaxy ending secret.
"Absolutely," Erik said, his deep voice dropping, "I'd say it was a signing bonus but that would be a lie." He smiled slightly. "Which would you prefer? A holodeck experience or a party for the crew?"
She groaned, “oh no. I have some explaining to do to pretty much everyone, don’t I? That aside I’d go for the holodeck experience. Every time. Which I guess is means yes - if you are willing to take a chance having me on your crew, then I would love to stay.”
"Excellent and yes, you will," Erik said, "but we'll take care of that in a briefing with senior staff. I'll introduce you, let them know what's been going on, and announce your new position." He paused a second and added, "all the while setting up the holodeck experience where we'll dance."
“Absolutely,” she nodded. “Looking forward to it. And I guess I should unpack. Not sure how I will manage that …”
"Well," Erik said as he rose to his feet and gestured for her to join him, "best to start in your actual quarters then. Come with me ..." He led her out into the corridor, to the turbolift, and up to the second deck where they exited. He kept his expression neutral even when the entered the corridor where command staff were housed. He stopped in front of a door just down from the First Officer's and gestured for her to enter. "I'm assigning you as my Second Officer so, this would be yours."
“Quite the upgrade,” she noted. Right now it was so quiet it felt as if they were the only two people on the entire deck. ,”Do you have time to give me the tour? I may need to borrow a plant or something to make it feel less grey… the kind that will not die just because I forget to water it for a day. My brother seems to think I am incapable of keeping plants and pets alive.”
"Sure," Erik said as he stepped into the living area with its oversized sofa and matching chair clustered around a coffee table; the sofa was flanked by end tables, each with its own lamp. "There's a viewer." He worked the controls to show how it slid down for viewing and queued up the impressive library. "All sorts of movies, plays, concerts, dramatic readings and the like. I personally recommend any of Soryn's recordings if you're having trouble sleeping. Vulcans are great for that." He scrolled a bit further as he continued. "We're light on opera but I think the Betazoid detective mysteries are fairly enlightening about the cultural mindset. There's a whole series of them where," he slid his gaze from right to left, "spoiler alert, one of the aliens was always the guilty party."
He moved into the kitchen and dining area. "There are cabinets here but no appliances. Speak to Operations if you're interested in doing actual cooking. But there is a replicator that you can program for your favorites and, as you can see, a place to sit and eat." The table was glassed topped and, like the rest of the furniture, bore that unique stamp of Starfleet interior design. Bland enough to not offend anyone; something Erik particularly detested.
"Moving on," Erik said as he stopped short of entering the bathroom, giving her room to go in and explore. "The shower is set up for either sonic or water. You'll get notified if there's a reason not to use it. The bedroom is through there." There was a queen sized bed positioned to be directly beneath the view ports though in Erik's room, his bed, King-Sized plus and built to suit his larger frame, was reversed so that he could lay in bed and look out at the stars. "Some of the living area can be boxed off if you want a null-grav chamber and pets are permitted, within reason. They aren't permitted to roam the ship, with or without their people, and are restricted to quarters and occasional use of the arboretum, if you reserve some time and agree to clean up afterwards."
Caitlyn had followed behind him, listening as he fully committed to the role of tour guide. A lot of it she knew and the rest she could have discovered but this was far more fun. When they had gotten to the bathroom she had kept a small distance and tested out the shower, switching it to traditional water just for a second and happy to see it worked. Sonic showers were all well and good but sometimes, old school was just better.
Turning it off she had spied even more shelves and storage space in here than she would likely ever need. Perhaps at the next starbase she just spend the entire time shopping…
“Don’t worry, I think it’s way too early to think about having a pet. I’ll start with a plant, work my way up,” she grinned as they walked. “Something I did not expect to say when I woke up this morning.”
"Probably for the best," Erik said. "When I was First Officer, I had an ensign with a wolf-hybrid who insisted on bringing the beast onto the Bridge for her shifts. Said it got 'lonely' in her quarters." He shook his head, irritated all over again at the memory. "Her children, I want to point out, stayed at our home port with a ... whatever you call them."
“Husband, father… nanny?” She offered, amused at his clear annoyance. “Leave the kids, bring the wolf? I don’t know if kids are in my future but that sounds like messed up priorities. I promise, no pets of mine shall enter the bridge.”
"That's good," Erik said as he leaned against the wall. "I've developed an amazing number of devious punishments over the years ..." He wagged his eyebrows. "Some would say ... diabolical."
She couldn’t not laugh, “diabolical huh?”
"Oh indeed," Erik said serenely. "I've had more than a few crew members over the years who thought themselves entirely too clever for their good. Rules don't apply to them and all that. Had one that thought it was perfectly alright to scream at me whenever the mood struck them. Another who claimed their past exempted them from following any and all of Starfleet's regulations. I learned and, over time, so did they."
“Shouted at you?” She queried. “Wow. And where do you stand on the occasional hug?”
"I have no problem with hugs," Erik said, with a slight chuckle, "though there are some limiting factors. " Lizzie did ... have a problem with them .. so we had an agreement that I would reserve that sort of display for her alone. Didn't please the ship's counselor, I'm here to tell you. She was Betazoid and fancied herself a hugger. Called me closed and standoffish to which I retorted that she was handsy and took liberties." He grinned wickedly. "It was quite the argument."
“I’d say terrible counselor but clearly we’ve seen worse,” Caitlyn commented before adding with a grin, “I’ll be sure to take out any urge to spontaneously hug someone on Knox.”
"Now see, I might just take offense to that," Erik said, his tone turning serious for the briefest of seconds. "You feel the need to hug someone, come find me. Any time." He shrugged lightly. "After all, apparently, I'm the wild captain who runs around in his bathrobe ... boxers ... or, by some reports, entirely naked ..."
“So I’ve heard,” she laughed. For she had. It was the nature of life on a starship apparently- whispers taking on a life of their own. “Sorry about that.”
"Being there when I'm needed," Erik answered, "is a lot more important than what I'm wearing when I get there. The crew should be happy that I no longer sleep in the nude as I did when I was younger."
She knew there was no right answer to that. “And I appreciate you putting that mental image in my head,” she teased.
"Well then," Erik said, eyes twinkling, "my work here is done ... unless you have any further questions, cook has promised me something special for dinner and I'm not to be late. He hates that."
“Just one,” she replied. “Still thinking about my request? About my weapons? I did give you the confession part. Even just one? Or we can save it for later. Dinner is like the third most important meal of the day and I don’t want you getting a bad rep with the chef.”
"Here's the deal," Erik said. "You can't carry them around or leave them out. Get an arms locker installed in your quarters, keyed to you specifically as well as myself and the Chief of Security, and keep them in there. They show up at a crime scene, which are becoming appallingly frequent, or anywhere out in the open, such as on your hip, and you're the one that will be answering ... to me. Work for you?"
“Deal,” she agreed. “This is … definitely going to be different,” she admitted. She had lost count of how often having one of them with her, concealed or not, had saved her life.
Erik's expression gentled as he took in the way she stood and moved. "Difference between what you did before and now is that you have a whole lot of people that are committed to keeping you safe, Cait. Security. Me. I fully intend to make this ship safe again. Going to make sure that security vets any crew members within an inch of their lives."
“I fully support that approach,” she offered with a small smile. “And I know. Truly. Baby steps.”
"You'll get there," Erik said. "And to help you on your way, you'll be doing six month rotations in all the departments along with your other duties. The idea is to learn all the parts of the ship, how each department works together, what their responsibilities are, etc. Volunteer to tag along, offer to do menial chores, listen and learn."
“Good thing I’m a fast learner… though dare I ask what department you want to torture first,” she asked.
"Finish up in Operations," Erik answered, "and after that, you can move on to Engineering. Keep in mind, this wouldn't be a full-time, you'll still be expected to get certified for Bridge Command and begin leading away teams and the rest. You're going to be quite busy, I'm afraid."
“Best way to keep me out of trouble,” she admitted, nodding. “Okay, let’s do this.”
"Computer," Erik said. "Lieutenant Caitlyn MacRae is now Second Officer for the USS Thunderbird with all the rights and privileges attached to that position."
"Lieutenant Caitlyn MacRae is now Second Officer for the USS Thunderbird," the computer responded.
"Good," Erik said with a firm nod. "I'll expect you in my dining room at 7:00 a.m. sharp for breakfast. I'll invite Knox as well and he can get you started on your certification."
“Breakfast it is,” she nodded. “See you at seven.”
Captain Erik Norsgaard
Commanding Officer
USS Thunderbird
Lieutenant Caitlyn MacRae
Second Officer
USS Thunderbird
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