A Much Needed Distraction Part 2

Posted on Wed Dec 13th, 2023 @ 1:42pm by Captain Tristan Faust & Lieutenant Michael Amato & Ensign Peter Novak & Lieutenant Commander Marc Kitchner M.D. & Lieutenant Commander Darrod Hanous
Edited on on Wed Dec 13th, 2023 @ 1:44pm

0 words; about a 1 minute read

Mission: Mission 4: Through a Glass, Darkly
Location: Deck 5: Rec Room 1
Timeline: M4 MD05 (2268.07.14) 0000

Marc picked up the hand he was dealt. "Mike before I forget to tell you for probably the hundredth time. Commodore Anderson wants to meet you when we get out of this mess." He shifted the cards around in his fist. "In for 10."

"Commodore Anderson?" Dr. Amato asked with a confused look on his face, "What for?" He picked up the set of cards.

"He didn't say. Nothing specific anyway. Just that he wanted to meet my right and left hands." Marc said taking a swig of his beer.

"Alrighty," Mike responded with a slightly perplexed look.

Both Tristan and Marc caught the look on the young Doctors face. "Eh the Commodore is harmless," Tristan assured, "Remember I was his exec for years and served under him at your age. I bet he has some pet project he wants some help on... Probably be high vis with command... May get you that chief spot sooner.

Mike nodded but didn't feel especially assured, "I guess I know what I'm doing whenever we get back to Starbase 10... If ever..." he added.

"At the very least you'll get a good meal out of it." Marc said shuffling the cards in his hand.

Darrod took his hand, and thanks to his Orion heritage and upbringing, was able to keep up the poker face. He picked up a chip and tossed it in. "I'm in." He glanced between the Medical talk. "Most commodores are decent, if a bit pompous. Didn't appreciate my second ever posting on the Jersey getting scrutinized by Menendez, though. Felt like he was looking for an excuse to bust me."

"Agreed," Tristan responded, "Some of the prestige may have gone to Anderson's head... But less than the average Commodore. I was certainly impressed by the furnishings in his office. Rich Corinthian leather versus the cheap vinyl on the chairs on the Midway."

"Anderson always enjoyed the finer things in life. You should see his family library on Earth. He has an entire wing full of first and second edition books." Marc said making a mental note of the chips on the table compared to everybody else's stack. Marc learned a lot about people from how they did things. Mike Amato played with his Academy class ring when he was puzzled. Tristan had a habit of flexing the fingers of his right hand when his thinking. Hanous he was starting to enjoy playing with, he was controlled in action and movement. "Menendez always was a pompous cuss, however bad hemorrhoids will do that to a person."

"Just like J. Edgar Hoover and his gallstones," The Captain commented. Tristan also was good at distracting other players from the task at hand with random historical tidbits and ridiculous questions.

Darrod didn't know much about Earth history before World War III, so the reference was mostly lost on him. He sighed. "You'd think with modern medicine, that wouldn't be such a problem. But I guess he wants an excuse to be ornery."

"There's always something," Tristan responded before looking at his wristwatch, "How many rounds of this are we doing anyway?" He asked.

The ship's bell chimed midnight and the watch change. "Have a date?" Marc said with a smirk. "We can call it after this hand."

"A date with my pillow before everything hits the fan," Tristan responded with a grimace.

Darrod looked over at the Captain - his concerns were well-suited, given where they were and what they were about to do. "You can sleep soundly tonight. All repairs are complete and all systems were reporting green before I left Engineering."

"I am elated to hear that," Tristan responded before putting his cards down in disgust, "Fold..." He finished his drink. " He looked over at Ensign Novak.

"Too rich for my blood," Peter said with a sigh as he tossed his hards into the center.

Mike looked at his cards. He had the makings of a baby straight: 5 of clubs, 4 of diamonds, 2 of hearts and the Ace of Spades and wondered... "I'll take 1," he said before discarding an 8 of clubs onto the pile and drawing one last card... Six of diamonds... He had it now. Only Kitch, Dar and him left in the game.

Marc slowly spread his cards for the third time, all garbage. "Give me three." Just that quick he went from nothing to work with to a full house. Jacks over 4's.

Darrod looked down at his cards, his expression firm. He had a pair of tens - not much, but if he could turn it into four of a kind, he'd have a shot. He glanced up, pulling two cards from his hand. "Two." It was a risky play, but he'd been told a while back that when you went into Starfleet, risk became your business, He took the two cards and had to consciously stop himself from reacting. He had his tens.

"I guess it's that time," Dr. Amato commented as his dropped his cards onto the table revealing his hand to be a straight. He gave a smirk thinking he was on top of the world.

Darrod nodded, revealing the four tens in his hand. "It is indeed, Doctor." Only a flush could take him now, but he'd learned a long time ago that if his hand wasn't unbeatable, someone had.

"Son of a..." Mike cursed as his expression instantly changed to one of disappointment. Oh, well...

Marc and Tristan exchanged a wicked glance between each other. They'd been playing cards together every week for four months now, they could read one another pretty well to begin with. He began playing with his chips, just to make a distraction.

"Well," the Captain said finally as he stood up, "Congratulations on a successful victory Mr. Hanous. Well deserved, but I certainly need to hit the sack."

Darrod didn't mind being the x-factor in a game of familiarity. In many ways, he'd done that before on other ships, and the experience had served him well. The difference here was that the Midway presented him the chance to become part of that familiarity, which he liked. He wasn't here as a closer, or to do a specific job in Engineering, but rather, he was in his prime and leading the engine room of a starship for a five-year mission; every time he stepped back and realized that, there was a certain elation in him over it. He collected his chips and noted them on a pad beside him, then stood up after the Captain. "Thank you, sir. I think it's about that time, yes." He turned to the others with a smile, "Well-played, gentlemen. I hope you all enjoyed the game as much as I did."

Marc got up and began cleaning up the mess. "Nicely played Lieutenant. We will have to get you back again. Pete you're welcome as well." He said gathering the chips together. The game quietly broke up. As Marc picked up the rack of chips he thought to himself ... until next week friends, until next week....

 

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