All Eyes on Me

Posted on Thu Mar 19th, 2026 @ 1:42am by Captain Erik Norsgaard & Lieutenant Commander Harrison Knox

1,777 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Wolf in the Fold: Hide and Seek
Location: Ready Room | Deck 1 | USS Thunderbird

Lieutenant Commander Harrison Knox believed a lot of things, and random chance was one of them, but what he did not believe in was coincidence, not aboard a Federation starship, and certainly not among senior staff. His career prior to being First Officer was well rooted since his teenage years in Security. Harrison Knox had even served several years as Master-at-Arms before transitioning into an office.

For the past several days, something had been off. Far worse than the flu he had been battling. At first, he thought Captain Norsgaard was just looking out for him, trying to lighten his duties while he was on the mend from the flu, but the math was not mathing. Two plus two was equaling seven instead of four, and his entire world felt misconstrued.

Conversations stopped a fraction too soon when he entered a room. Glances were exchanged, and there were subtle, practiced as if rehearsed movements. Department heads who were usually direct with him had grown measured, careful. Not insubordinate. Not even improper. Just… selective, and formal.

It was the selectivity that bothered him. He felt as though there was a whole mission happening behind the curtain, and he had no part of it. It was as though everyone was acting out a lie, and Knox had not received the script.

Lieutenant Commander stood outside the Captain's Ready Room, a PADD held loosely in one hand, its display cycling through duty reports he had already memorized. There was nothing in them that justified the shift in atmosphere, no operational anomaly, no personnel issues to his knowledge that were significant enough to ripple across departments like this.

Which meant one thing: whatever it was, it hadn’t made it to him, but clearly it had been trickled down to his subordinates. The only person aboard who could cause that was Captain Erik Norsgaard.

Knox's jaw tightened slightly at the thought of being undermined by his Captain, circumvented by Department Heads, and the wool was resting over his eyes. He stepped forward and pressed the chime.

"Enter," Norsgaard said with a tired sigh. He was standing at his credenza, pouring himself a cup of strong tea, when the door to his Ready Room opened. He turned and gestured for his First Officer to come in as he brought the mug, emblazoned with the ship's name and logo, back to his desk.

Knox crossed the threshold with composed efficiency, though there was an edge beneath it today. He let out a brief exhale. “Captain,” he said, offering a brief nod to Erik Norsgaard as he approached the desk.

He lifted the PADD slightly, more gesture than necessity. "I’ve reviewed several hours of reports,” Knox began evenly. A beat, then, more pointed: “I've gone through any incident with a fine toothed comb and I’m coming up with nothing..."

Knox sat the PADD down. "Not a damn thing to explain this sense of avoidance. I can feel eyes on me, Captain. I don't like it. I do not like it one bit, Sir. What is it? What am I missing? Have you been disappointed in my performance?"

Norsgaard narrowed his eyes slightly at the display from his First Officer though he kept his tone measured and calm. "With everything that's been going of late, the ship's former captain poisoned, several of our crew members injured, one dead on the shuttle, and with all that, we now have the Gul's son nearly murdered in his bed and our Counselor on the floor beside him, blood dripping from the knife she held ... and ... your concern is ... about you? And how I feel about performance?"

"No," replied Know. "My concern is why you haven't read me in on any of this. Sick or not, Captain, I am the First Officer of this starship. These are my shipmates, and I have been kept in on the dark, and my apologies, Captain, but I do not believe it was out of the concern for my health. This was deliberate." Knox shook his head. "That is your prerogative, Sir. I'm not here to question it, I am here to understand it."

"The one time you were on the Bridge since I've been aboard, you could barely stand," Erik answered. "Deliberate in the sense that as far as I knew you were on sick leave and that's why you were "kept out of the loop" if you can call it that. I expect my officers to be proactive, Commander, which means that if you felt well enough, you could easily have read the briefings I've been sending your way or the daily reports that you get copied on, or even reached out to me which you haven't done ... until now." Erik rose smoothly to his feet. "I didn't have time to come to your quarters. We've been hunting a Maquis sympathizer who, I suspect, is the one who poisoned Captain Gray and attacked the Gul's son. That meant vetting the entire crew, myself included. For reasons only known to Starfleet, your clearance on that score only came through this morning."

"So, was it that I was not proactive enough to read the reports, or that I was under too much scrutiny, and my clearance only recently came through?" Knox inquired. "Captain, I've noticed the looks. I worked security since I was a pimple face teenager enlisting in Starfleet. You don't need to say anything on the record, but I understand if I was a suspect."

"Personally, I never considered you a suspect," Norsgaard said, "and I meant what I said. As far as ship's business is concerned, you were on sick leave. If we're talking about uncovering the traitor, the Admiral sent an undercover agent. I had no clue at that point we even had one aboard ... though that started to change once we understood Gray's condition. As the Captain, I was read in that first day but was asked to keep things quiet so that whoever it was didn't get spooked. The Admiral and I had a few words about it but you know Schofield. Over time, I read in others that had been cleared as they were needed. Honestly, I would have read you in earlier, clearance or no clearance, but you ... just ... were never here. Sick leave."

Knox nodded. "I appreciate that you didn't consider me a suspect, and I would not have wanted to interfere in the investigation, but Captain, I would have confined myself to quarters had I known anyone suspected me of anything. I don't want anything to do with the Maquis" stated Knox. "Its been difficult to shake the stigma around what happened."

"I can imagine," Norsgaard said as he returned to his seat and picked up his mug. "That was a big mistake on your part and cost the Federation dearly. Those Bajorans, the ones who escaped, joined up with the Kohn-Ma and have been targeting the Cardassians they believe are guilty of war crimes. Three executions so far and rumor has it that their leader is Sayal Mazi's right hand. As for the crew, the rumors will die down. They've grown legs because no one has seen you around; could be the smartest course of action is just to get back to work. Prove them wrong through your actions and your commitment to doing what's right."

"It could," replied Knox. "Or it may have been the kick in my ass to realize that I've made several mistakes in my life, Captain Norsgaard. I'm sorry those Bajorans have been committing those actions, Sir. I do have some wrongs to right, and I will, but my biggest mistake wasn't the away mission that went south. It was more personal."

"What was it," Norsgaard asked. "And please, Commander, have a seat." He reached behind him and poured Knox a mug of the tea that he brought with him from home (and often had flown to wherever he was) and set it on the desk. "What was your mistake?"

Knox took the seat and accepted the tea. He was more of an iced and sweet sort of guy, but he didn't mind a cup of hot tea. It made him feel fancy. "I chose to trust a former Captain over my current Captain, but worse than that I ended up betraying years of friendship. My mistake, Sir. It was making Captain Gray feel inadequate."

"That's not easy to come back from," Norsgaard said. He raised his mug and studied the man before him over its rim. "Is he the type to forgive and forget?"

"He's...a difficult man, a complex man. Ever meet a Betazoid that is empathically numb?" Knox chuckled. "But what he's good at is always being there when you need him. When my wife died, Rylan barely left my side. He got me through things a lot better than counselors did."

"I see," Norsgaard said after a moment. "This ship, it's not where you need to be, is it?"

"It was never about the ship, Sir. I knew that when I took the assignment, but I understand it more now that he's gone. If that makes any sense? This is a fine ship, has a great crew, and you are undoubtedly a good Captain, but..."

"It's not where you need to be," Norsgaard repeated. "I hope you find what you're looking for Commander. You last duty to the ship will be running the bridge certification for Lieutenant MacRae. I'll inform Starfleet that I'm looking for a new First Officer."

Knox smiled a little. "I found it, Sir. I just misplaced it. Now, I just have to convince him to believe in me again." There was mistaking he meant Captain Rylan Gray. "I can get her bridge certified, Sir. It would be an honor to do so."

"Good luck," Norsgaard said as he rose to shake the Commander's hand. "You're dismissed."

Knox stood and took the man's hand. "Captain, thank you. For understanding, listening, and not suspecting me of any of this. That does mean a lot to me."

Norsgaard watched the man go. Well, he thought, as he turned back toward the work spread out on his desk, that explains some things. I'd have to be three weeks dead before they could keep me off the Bridge, no matter the situation; course, if this wasn't where my heart demanded I'd be, no power in Starfleet could have kept me there. He grinned cheerfully at the thought and at the memories. Now, to put in that request for a new First Officer.

---

Captain Erik Norsgaard
Commanding Officer
USS Thunderbird

and

Lt. Commander Harrison Knox
(Formerly) First Officer
USS Thunderbird

 

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