Not A Tree In Sight (Part 2)

Posted on Mon Apr 27th, 2026 @ 3:48pm by Captain Erik Norsgaard & Lieutenant JG Caitlyn MacRae

2,303 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Friends and Traitors
Location: Seven Knights Bar, Starbase 310

This was a battle destined to end in defeat. From the very first throw, which ended with the blade of the axe buried in the dead centre of the target, all hope was lost. “Impressive,” she offered as drinks arrived and the target was cleared. “I feel like I should not be this surprised to find you so good at throwing an axe…”

Erik stepped back so that she could take her turn, having long since figured out that the best place to stand when she was throwing was behind her, reached for his lager and saluted her with the mug. "I might have done a bit of axe throwing before."

Might have…. Caitlyn grinned as she shook her head at the undeniable understatement. Lifting the axe she lined up and ensured she was not in danger of stepping over the line. “Prepare for an epic comeback,” she warned as she took her shot, watching as it flew towards the target, groaning as it lost height in the last moment to hit home below the centre.

Holding her hands up she turned, pouting. “Knives are so much easier,” she sighed as she took a drink from her own pint.

"But not nearly as much fun," Erik said as he set his mug down, lined up his shot, and hit dead center. "My brothers and I used to imagine ourselves Vikings ... so there was a lot of axe throwing ..." He grinned at the memories. "One summer we tried to build a long boat so we could go pillaging but that didn't turn out so well."

“Oh?” She asked, taking another drink before she slipped past him to take her spot. “Sounds interesting… what happened?”

"Momor Elin, she was my grandmother, showed up talking about how we were nearly feral and my youngest brother, Alex, was whining about how we were trying to drown him. We weren't of course. He just couldn't keep up, shorter arms and all."

Taking her shot she grinned as it hit a little high, but closer to the centre. “I can sympathise, I was the youngest and smallest so I’m an Alex defender here,” she lied. “But it’s some unwritten rule that grannies always need to have a favourite and it will always be the youngest boy. Don’t ask me why, it just is.”

As she ordered another round of drinks she added curiously, “ Did the boat sail?”

"Not as well as we'd hoped," Erik said, "but yeah, it did. Twins run in my family and Alex's twin was stillborn. Pissed him off that he was only one that didn't have one and Momor did favor him a bit but only a little. Honestly, if we were feral, he was doubly so ... and vindictive. He'd dedicate himself to getting even whenever someone played a prank on him, so me and Bjorn, that's my twin, teamed up with him. Some epic pranks came out of that summer." He chuckled, remember, "we ended up using the boat to give Alex's hampster a Viking funeral."

“With like the flaming arrows and burning the boat?” She asked incredulously. “Impressive commitment for a hamster.”

"Yes, indeed," Erik said, sighing happily, "best part was the flaming arrows. Course, then Gus read about this medical condition, torpor, and tormented Alex for weeks about him not being really dead. Worth the psychological trauma though. We had a grand time firing hours at the boat."

“And Alex still talks to all of you?” She clarified. Here she thought being the only girl had been a tough break. “And I’m gonna remember this if you ever suggest archery.”

"Yep," Erik said, "and gave as good as he got, truth be told. I did say that Momor said we were practically feral, didn't I? Alex never took a thing lying down and Gustav, well, he kept waking up with ... interesting ... things in his bed until he finally and formally apologized ... naked ... in winter ... in the stream ..."

She couldn’t silence the laugh at the mental image, and admire the youngest sibling for standing his ground. “You miss them?” It was perhaps more of a statement than a question, noting how relaxed he was talking about them and the warmth in his voice and that smile…

"We talk when we can, arrange get togethers, but you know how it is. You grow up, your lives take different paths and gets harder to stay in touch." He glanced her way, acknowledging the question with a look. "Yes, I miss them. How about you? You close to your family?"

She took a long drink before admitting, “I miss mine too. I was always Papa’s girl. My parents worked constantly - so it seemed anyway - and he was my best friend and teacher rolled into one. His health isn’t so great but he’s the first person I reach out to when an assignment is over. He never asks anything other than if I’m okay and then spends an hour telling me all the village gossip.

My brothers all have families and careers and don’t really get what I do - or why I can’t talk about it. James is different, he’s Starfleet. My mother … oh boy! Why aren’t you married Caitlyn… do you know Helen’s a grandmother … who the hell is Helen anyway? I think her and my dad both hoped this - joining Starfleet - was a phase. Like the year I went full goth look. Don’t judge.”'

"Goth," Erik mused. "Isn't that something to do with black lips? Ran into a cult one time on a welfare check. Colony world that hadn't reported in for some time. They all had black lips but that happened as a result of their mining operations and chemicals getting into the water supply."

“Lips, nails, clothes, hair…. Thankfully it was a phase because it was not a good look. I’m sure James has many pictures he would happily share,” she shuddered at the thought. “I looked better as a pirate - green skin and all.”

"I used to hunt green-skinned pirates," Erik said thoughtfully. He turned a speculative look at her. "Was fairly good at it too."

“Is that so?” She teased as she finished her drink. “Sounds exciting… And dangerous. And you know… who doesn’t love pirates? Or hunting them in your case. Did you catch every one you were after?”

"Absolutely," Erik purred. "Took awhile but then, anything worth hunting ..."

What was that saying… good things come to those who wait? “Humble brag?” She teased gently, with a playful tone in her voice. Quite sure he wasn’t just talking about pirates.

Erik smiled over his lager, considering his answer, "No, Ma'am. Just plain fact."

“Ma’am?” She laughed, feigning a stab to the heart. “Ouch! Way to make me feel old. Wait… do I have grey hairs?”

In mock panic she tugged on some curls and pulled the strands taught, staring at them as if they had committed some kind of betrayal before letting them go - one strand managing to hit her in the eye as it bounced back into curls. Laughing at her own stupidity she shook her head, “you didn’t see that… Another drink?”

"Absolutely," Erik said as he pushed over his glass. "Lager. Mariestad's Export is they have it." He considered the sheen of her red curls, cocking his head to one side, "you know, there is a bit of a glint there ... white maybe ... but then given what we've been through, I think we all deserve a white hair or two." He grinned cheerfully. "Except me of course."

“Getting brave I see,” she grinned as shook her head, laughing as she made her way from their table to the bar. It was busier and louder and the server from before seemed to have vanished but she wasn’t averse to fetching the drinks herself. White hair indeed!

Yet even as she stood there waiting to be served, she had a cursory check. Nope, still red. Although under the weird lights in here, she had to squint a little to be sure.

White indeed!

Finally it was her turn at the bar and she ordered the lager as requested, switching to vodka and coke for herself. Making it back without spilling any was a bigger challenge than axe throwing but she made it.

“As ordered,” she announced, setting down his drink. “I thought I saw some of the nurses on the far side of the bar. Don’t worry, I don’t think they saw me and from where they are they can’t see this corner. If they could, I imagine they’d be over here in a heartbeat.”

Erik grunted and then said, "thanks" as he took the mug. "Not worried. You underestimate the power of the captaincy. They won't come over. Oh, they'll talk about me behind my back given half a chance but anything other than a formal acknowledgement of my presence, not likely. In fact," he said as he gestured toward the nurses heading toward the exit, "that's more typical. They'll find somewhere less ... captainy ... to drink."

Caitlyn glanced in the direction he pointed and frowned. “Lonely at the top, huh?” She mused as she drank. “Fortunately you have me and my … what did he say… ah yes! Clear disregard for authority. Or something like that. So you are stuck with me, I’m afraid. Regretting asking me to stay yet?”

"Far from it," Erik said. "I like that I can be Erik around you and not just 'that-captain-who-replaced-our-captain-even-though-we-were-never-really-close-to-him'. You're funny and smart and beautiful. What's to regret ... and I don't think it said a disregard for authority. Well, except in Admiral Schofield's notes. That man does not like you."

“He does not,” she agreed with a grin, glancing up at him and raising an eyebrow, “beautiful huh? Just how strong is that lager?”

"Not that strong," Erik answered, his gray gaze taking in the room at large as he spoke. "I don't drink much and never to excess. Learned the hard way that I can be called to duty at any given moment. Even in the middle of the night."

“I remember,” she noted, taking a long drink. “Though I didn’t have the opportunity to really admire the view at the time.”

Erik laughed outright. "Yeah, me and my ratty pajama bottoms with my robe flapping. Quite the sight. Think I'll add ... bunny slippers next time. Really give the crew something to gossip about."

She burst out laughing at the idea, shaking her head at the mental image that popped into her head. “Bunny slippers…” she repeated finishing her drink. “I’d bet even then the last thing they’d notice was the bunnies on your feet. Trust me.”

She fell quiet, studying her empty glass as if it held the secrets of the universe. Deciding against another, she turned the glass over in her hands, for a moment lost in thought. A moment which stretched out a little longer than she realised.

He let the remark pass. Hard workouts were his way of thinking through problems, keeping himself grounded, and not something particularly praiseworthy. Instead, he focused on Caitlyn and the way she had turned inward; he pushed his glass aside and leaned forward slightly. "Something on your mind," Erik asked.

She glanced up, meeting his gaze. “Yeah…” she admitted before quietly adding, “Although I am not entirely sure you’d want to hear it.”

"Absolutely I would," Erik said at once. "Always."

“I am kind of thinking about us. The universe throwing us together - again - only this time it’s different,” she confided, keeping her voice low. “It feels like maybe it is giving us a chance to maybe see where this goes. As in us.”

She took a deep breath, “but I don’t want to jeopardise our friendship and I know it is probably just as complicated because we are on the same ship. And maybe I’m imagining it and I’m just James’s little sister - beautiful little sister obviously- which might seem weird for you. And maybe you don’t ever want to go there -“

"I do," Erik said, the warm rumble of his voice taking on a caressing quality, as a fire kindled in the depths of his gaze. "I do. And I understand the difficulties involved but ... what I feel when I'm around you ... not something I want to walk away from."

Having feared she was risking crossing a line she could never uncross, it took a moment for her to process his actual words. And as she did, her tension disappeared and her smile was breathtaking. “Me either,” she assured him as she reached for his hand, leaning in closer with her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “Would it be insanely unprofessional to kiss you right now?”

Erik grinned, covering her hand with his own, much larger one. "A bit, yes. And there probably are some things we should talk about." He sighed quietly, shifting in his seat. "But right now, kissing you is all I'm thinking about."

She grinned, squeezing his hand, “Who could blame you?” She mused, “but yes, I know. Lots to talk about. For now, how about you finish your drink and we could maybe take a walk or go somewhere else…?”

"Forget the drink," Erik said, his smile warm and inviting, "let's get out of here."

“No arguments here,” she grinned, abandoning her seat and following him towards the exit, leaving the unfinished game behind them.

---

Captain Erik Norsgaard
Commanding Officer
USS Thunderbird

and

Lieutenant Caitlyn MacRae
Second Officer
USS Thunderbird

 

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