Odds, Ends, and Other Vices, Part 1

Posted on Fri Jun 20th, 2025 @ 12:14am by Lieutenant JG Damien Blackford & Petty Officer 3rd Class Josef Forstinger

Mission: Season 6: Echoes of the Zynari
Location: Vashti & Rixi's Quarters, Deck 21
Timeline: 1932 Hours
3866 words - 7.7 OF Standard Post Measure

She swore softly.

Vashti Rao stood in the center of her shared quarters and surveyed the chaos like an engineering officer prepared a damage report. A cup of something green and congealed was fossilizing on an endtable next to the sofa. A pile of socks--none of which were hers--lay under their lounge chair as mini casualties of some unknown war between textiles. A data PADD with its screen frozen mid-loop chirped weakly from the sofa cushions.

She exhaled slowly through her nose, tucked a white cloth into her belt like a sidearm, and got down to business.

"This is a home, not a Bolian dive bar," she muttered, shoving a half-eaten protein bar wrapper into the replicator recycler with startling force. She knelt next to the sofa and tugged on a sock from under the cushion. She sniffed it, winced, and launched it into the far corner where it narrowly missed the laundry bin.

The display on the wall--a broad, digital panel often mistaken by guests for an operations interface--was currently scrolling the latest betting lines across the bottom in neon lettering. Above it, rotating odds and names danced across a stylized LCARS overlay:

-Reece sneezes during red alert: 8-to-1
-Esquivias says "ya'll" during an Operations meeting: 5-to-1
-Taylor milkshake sighting: 3-to-1; double if offered
-Rin laughing fit: 40-to-1
-Warp efficiency hits 94.94% during a diagnostic: 120-to-1
-Vulcan eats with hands: 600-to-1

Vashti hadn't noticed the new entry, discreetly hidden under a collapsible header labelled Private Pot - Admin Locked. By the time she'd re-centered the throw pillows and coaxed a neutral scent into the air with a programmable diffuser, the door swished open.

"I come bearing potato chips and poor impulse control," Ensign Tenzi Sh'reyva announced, chuckling at her own joke as she ducked through the doorway with a duffel slung over one shoulder. There was a gay sparkle in her pale blue eyes.

Petty Officer 2nd Class Zal Rixi followed close behind, a data PADD under one arm, her uniform already partially unzipped a good three inches below the collar.

"Rix," Vashti said without looking up, "your boots are are in the replicator tray, your sports bra was in the shower, and if you so much as mention organized chaos again, I will lock you out of your own quarters."

Zal Rixi stepped through the room nonchalantly. "Vee, you're early. This is why I never clean. You ruin the mystery."

"The mystery," Vashti said, deadpanning, "is whether we're going to contract something fungal from your sock drawer."

Rixi placed her PADD down just as Tenzi leaned over the back of the sofa and triumphantly lifted a lacy red bra from between the cushions.

"Found one!" Tenzi cackled. "Bet it's got her name printed on the tag."

She lifted it into the air and twirled it like a battle trophy.

"That is a personal garment and I will thank you to put it down right now," Rixi growled, snatching it from her with indignation.

Vashti arched a brow. "I really, really rest my case."

Tenzi collapsed onto the sofa in a fit of laughter that could've cracked deck plating. "She's got lingerie hiding like it's Zh'yor Meya, Vee." She invoked the name of an Andorian celebration where adults hide candy for children to find. "You need a full sensor sweep."

Rixi threw her tall Andorian friend a withering look and tossed a throw pillow at her.

"Maybe I'll requisition a drone," Vashti muttered, collecting the throw pillow and and placing it back on the sofa neatly. "At least it'll put the dirty dishes back in the replicator."

The room warmed with laughter as Tenzi stretched-out her long legs, antennae twitching playfully. "We might have a full table tonight," she said. "You, me, Rix, Emiliano's on his way, and I heard a whisper that Garo's showing up too."

"Oh?" Rixi said, clearly enjoying herself. "Should we put that on the board? 'Rao blushes at Hakobyan's entrance, three-to-one odds.'"

"I'm not blushing," Vashti said sharply, turning back toward the dining area to conceal the faint rise of colour in her cheeks. "And if either of you modifies the betting board without my authorization again, I'll make you both regret it."

Tenzi held up her hands in mock surrender. "Just saying, Vee: you've got a good poker face, but a terrible denial game."

Rixi let out an innocent cough, clearly anything but.

Vashti froze in the middle of arranging the poker chips at the table and turned to her Bajoran roommate. "What?"

"Nothing," Rixi said, too quickly.

"Just that," Tenzi interjected, "if Garo does show up, you should probably sit him next to you."

Vashti rolled her eyes. "I am not twelve. He's a colleague."

"A colleague you stare at like he's the last spring roll at a buffet."

"Zee."

"Vee," Rixi jumped in with a grin. "I'm just saying... if he goes all-in on something tonight, it better not be just the pot."

"You two are bloody impossible," Vashti muttered, cheeks heating slightly. "Let's talk about the security boys instead. Who are they?"

Rixi smiled. "Forstinger's alright--the quiet type, but in good shape for being four hundred years-old."

"I heard he sometimes forgets how to work the turbolift," Tenzi said.

Rixi snorted. "Sure, but that man could kill a squad of Klingons with a pillow."

"And Blackford?" Vashti asked, now setting out coasters shaped like hexagonal isolinear chips.

"I know him through a mutual friend," Tenzi said. "Damien's an absolute sweetheart." She feigned clutching pearls with eyes upward and a hand loosely touching her chest.

"Perfect," Vashti said. "As long as they're willing to part with their credits, they're welcome at my table."

Rixi rose to her feet, head cocked to one side while she fiddled with her shoulder-length brown hair.

Vashti gave out a satisfied 'ah' as she stood back and looked at the now-transformed dining room table. It was now covered in taut black felt, drink holders in place, poker chips perfectly organized at the banker's position, and an unopened deck of playing cards resting next to a card chute. "I need to get out of this uniform and into something more comfortable," Vashti said. She crossed the room and disappeared into the bathroom.

Rixi leaned toward Tenzi and whispered, "Think it's too soon to re-enable the 'Rao-asks-Garo-on-a-date' square?"

"Maybe," Tenzi whispered back, her antennae now perked.

"I can hear you," came Vashti's voice from the beyond the bathroom doors.

"That's what makes it fun," Rixi called back, grinning.

The scrolling board behind them flashed subtly. Somewhere, a hidden betting pool ticked upward.

* * *

Location: Garo's Quarters, Deck 8
Timeline: 1940 Hours


He straightened his collar for the eleventh time.

Garo stood in front of the mirror with grim determination--like a general reviewing maps before a battle. His dark civilian tunic was neatly pressed, high-collared, and just formal enough to hint that he took the occasion seriously. His mother might say it fits well across the shoulders. Still, he attempted to push the collar up without satisfaction.

"It's poker night, not state dinner," he muttered to his reflection.

The door chime interrupted him.

"Enter," he said, grabbing a comb off the bathroom countertop.

Specialist Emiliano Echevarria popped his head into the bathroom doorway, a smug expression on his face now that he'd caught his friend peacocking. Of average height for a Human, Echevarria was skinny--almost gaunt--his dark eyes deep and expressive, his short black hair lightly oiled, giving him a delicate appearance.

"Stop fixing your hair," Echevarria said. "You look like you're prepping for a junior high dance."

Garo sniffed, stepped aside, and gestured toward his wardrobe as if yielding the floor to a fashion critic. "And you," he said, squinting, "smell like fragrance department on a space station. You planning to bluff the whole table with pheromones?"

"It's called presentation, my friend," Echevarria said, adjusting the rolled-back sleeves of a silvery button-up shirt. "Replicators are finally back online. I celebrated with a shower and a splash of home."

"Home smells like fruit market and Pakled smuggler's armpit."

"It's called 'Azure, Spoken'," Echevarria replied, his light Hispanic accent bleeding through.

"It's called excessive," replied Garo as he moved back to the living area of his quarters.

Echevarria grinned, his charcoal eyes glinting while he followed. "I get it. You're nervous."

"Nervous?" Garo shot him a long-suffering look and turned to a small cabinet. "Please. I've put my life on the line a dozen times in the last five days. Besides, this--" He pulled out a squat, amber-hued bottle and held it aloft with mock reverence--"is more dangerous than these aliens screwing with the ship's systems."

Emiliano squinted, unsure what to say. "Vodka...?"

Garo elbowed him playfully in the gut. "This is tsirani oghi. Apricot spirit. Good stuff." He stared at Echevarria while miming kissing the bottle. "One bottle. Brought it with me from home." He held it with both hands like a holy relic. "When it's gone, I'll be officially out of tastes of Armenia."

"Especially in this galaxy," Echevarria reminded him. "But I suppose there's always the replicator."

Garo feigned spitting on the floor in mock-disgust at the mention of replicated tsirani.

"Let's get going," suggested the Hispanic non-commissioned officer, "before you decide to make love to that bottle."

"If only I could," Garo said wistfully.

They both chuckled and made their way to the corridor. It was quiet and the lights somehow seemed softer, though it was probably simply knowing they were now off-duty after several difficult days of repairs, diagnostics and haywire systems.

"So it's Rixi, Vashti and Tenzi?" Garo asked.

"Yes," Echevarria replied as they reached the turbolift. "I heard Blackford might show."

"Blackford," Garo said, as if trying to remember the name. "Security?"

"Yep." Echevarria pressed the turbolift call button and waited. "Rixi said Forstinger would be coming too."

Garo pursed his lips. "I don't think I know him."

A high-pitched whine indicated the turbolift had arrived. The doors opened and the two men stepped inside.

"Deck Twenty-One," Garo ordered, still fighting with the high-collar of his shirt.

The lift began its descent.

"You ever played poker with Vashti before?" Emiliano asked, leaning casually against the wall.

"First time."

"Well," Emiliano said, raising his browline. "That won't stop her from taking your credits."

The lift slowed and the doors opened on Deck Nine.

Waiting outside, Lieutenant JG Damien Blackford stood, both hands resting loosely at his side.

It had been a while since Damien had last actually had a decent night out. Well, with other people that was. Ever since he and Vira had ended things, he’d found himself… not so much avoiding other people, but more so… okay yeah. Maybe he had been avoiding other people. He couldn’t explain why, he just felt more comfortable by himself. But, when the invite to join a Junior Officer poker game had come through, he decided that his days of being a recluse must come to end. He’d happily accepted, and now was the time to get back out there and actually make some more friends. He wasn’t sure exactly who was coming, but he was fairly certain he’d heard Josef mention it a couple days ago. So there was him, and Tenzi was the one who’d actually extended the invite, so he was fairly certain she’d be there. He didn’t know her that well, just a mutual acquaintance, but she seemed nice enough. She’d mentioned a few names to him, but other than seeing their names on the crew manifest, and a couple of chance meetings, he wasn’t entirely sure who they were.

Once he was showered, and feeling more like a human again, he quickly dressed himself, nothing fancy, just a plain blue button down shirt, with the cuffs rolled back slightly, and a pair of faded denim jeans, he gave himself a quick spritz with deodorant, grabbed his credits, and headed out the door.

Stopping at the end of the hall, he pressed the button for the turbolift, and waited, hands down at his side, rocking on the balls of his feet slightly. When the lift stopped, and the doors opened, he gave a polite smile to the two men. “Evening gents.” He said, stepping into the lift. Glancing over at them, he rocked back on his heels slightly, before continuing. “I’m guessing you’re also on your way to Vashti and Rixi’s?” He asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Evening," Garo replied, with the slight upward twitch of his mouth that passed for warmth. He clocked the shirt, the casual posture, the faint air of someone who hadn't quite decided if this counted as social or strategic.

"Blackford, right?" Emiliano asked, pushing off the wall slightly. "Tenzi said you might be joining."

Damien nodded at the two men and said, "Damien." Holding his hand out to each of them in turn. The rest of the trip passed by quickly and in relative silence, and it wasn't long before they were stood outside of Vashti and Rixi's quarters.



* * *

Location: Corridor, Deck 21
Timeline: 1957 Hours


It was...strange. Josef had received an invitation to a Poker Game. By a bunch of women, no less. Now, he was no rube or some sexist-it was just unusual for him. The Last couple of years, he had only ever played poker in some dirty trench, a ruined building, or a crowded barracks with his boys... before all of this. For him he maybe not played a few weeks or months at most-but, in reality, it had been far longer than that.

Now officially off duty, he had changed back to his usual outfit. A Wifebeater, black jeans and some combat boots-since old habits die hard. What was never missing though, from neither his uniform nor this more casual outfit, was the golden cross necklace around his neck.

With a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and of course his cash stuffed into his pockets, he finally rang the bell to the Quarters. Funnily enough, right next to his own-though he never could say he noticed his neighbours much so far.

Inside their shared quarters, Rixi called out, "That'll be Forstinger. I set the odds on him arriving first at three-to-one."

"You didn't set anything," Vashti retorted from the other room. "You just keep whispering numbers and pretending it's market speculation. Besides, his quarters are right nextdoor."

Still adjusting the waistband of her deep-blue lounge pants, Vashti strode barefoot to the door and tapped the panel. It parted with a soft quiet hiss.

Josef Forstinger stood on the threshold looking like he'd wandered in from some noir holonovel--gritty, angular and slightly anachronistic. Tank top. Boots. Black jeans. A gold cross caught the low lighting and gleamed faintly against his chest. "You're early," she said, stepping aside to let him in. "The poker table's prepped." She nodded toward a small replicator alcove by the kitchenette. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I could use a stiff drink," Rixi piped up from the sofa.

"Dont got much to do, plus better to be early than late." was the semi-enigmatic response Josef gave to Vashti as she stepped aside, scratching his stubble once before stepping into the quarters, his eyes doing a quick scan of the area seemingly out of pure reflex-though he didn't move his head at all with them.

"Just some Water if its not too much trouble" was his other response to Vashti, before his head turned to face Rixi. "Me too, if the replicator didn't keep messing up the taste of everything. Most beer I request tastes like Pisswater."

Vashti arched a brow at Josef's blunt appraisal of replicator beer, but she didn't comment. Instead, she crossed to the replicator, tapped in a few adjustments, and retrieved a tall glass of cold water. "One vintage glass of pisswater, coming up," she said dryly, before offering it to him with an open palm. "The filters had a full recalibration last week, so it might just taste like bad lager now."

Tenzi twisted sideways on the couch to prop herself on one elbow. Her antennae flicked toward Josef as she took in his outfit with curiosity. "You like the before picture in a safety training video," she observed. "I like it. Definitely sets the tone for someone to lose everything tonight."

Vashti gave a warning glance but said nothing, already used to her barbs.

Rixi stirred from the sofa. "Damn," she said, rising to her feet. "Where are my manners?" She reached out and touched Josef on the bicep. "This is my roommate Vashti. Vashti, this is Josef Forstinger." She pointed at the tall Andorian woman stretched-out on the sofa. "And that's Tenzi. Don't mind her."

Vashti gestured toward the converted dining table set up near the viewport, its felt top already laid out with chips, cards, and a scatter of coasters. "Pick a seat before Em shows up and claims the lucky one."

Vashti's response seemed to surprise Josef in a positive way-perhaps appealing to his sense of humor. Earning her a grin from him as he accepted the drink. "Appreciate it." he says as he takes the glass into his hand, looking at what is inside before taking a sip.

He did however turn his face as the Andorian Woman addressed him. "And what sort of safety training would that be, Bluey ?" he seemed to almost tease her back a bit, as if challenging her to come up with something. "Maybe, but trust me, I am not going to be the one losing everything tonight-unless some grave back on Earth falls into your taste of real estate." he said deadpan, before giving her a almost shiteating grin-showcasing his more morbid sense of humor that he had developed over time.

What did give him just a little pause however was when Rixi came up to him all of a sudden. Now, it wasn't too noticable-perhaps just an additional quick blink as he focused on her. His biceps were definitely well trained-like that of a soldier without break, and someone who definitely had yet to fully indulge in the luxuries of replicators and holodecks/entertainment.

"Ah, don't worry about it, Rixi. Thanks for the invite-and it is nice to meet both of you." he gave a nod to both Vashti and Tenzi with a now genuine smile.
"Otherwise I'd have probably re-read Blood Meridian again." he joked to Rixi before going over to the table.

He settled down in a seat facing towards the viewport, taking another sip as he set his drinks down, taking a look at both the cards and chips while in his other hand he was now twirling and playing with a bronze colored metal lighter. Mostly emptying his pockets as he settled into his seat.

Vashti caught the flicker of hesitation in Josef's face--not enough to alarm, but just enough to note. The kind of tiny expression that passed between people who spent too long under fire and hadn't adjusted to rooms with no consequences. She let it pass without word, only offering a faint smile in return to his nod. "Glad you came," she said, and moved to gather a bowl of potato chips from the kitchenette countertop. "It's a low-stakes night. Conversation, cards, and the occasional bad bluff."

She returned to the table just as Josef began emptying his pockets. The lighter caught the lights of the cabin--a little brass relic that looked older than most starships. Vashti set the bowl between them and offered a lighthearted, half-sincere word of warning. "Careful with that grin, Forstinger. Rixi has a thing for men with sharp edges."

That earned an indignant huff from the sofa. "Excuse you," Rixi said in protest. "I happen to have excellent taste in men."

Tenzi moved to the dining-turned-poker table and settled into a seat across from Josef. With one eyebrow arched and a mock-menacing look, she said to Forstinger, "We'll see who's more blue by the end of the night."

Josef let out a low chuckle at the exchange between Rixi and Vashti. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks for the warning."

Continuing with his slight teasing tone he then looked over to Tenzi as she settled into the seat across from him. Answering her mock-menacing look with a a wink in his eyes. "Sure, whatever you say, Lady Long Legs." before flipping a flame on with his lighter, showing that the ancient piece was indeed in working condition, before setting it down near the worn out pack of cigarettes.

Tenzi's antennae twitched at the nickname, but she didn't rise to it--not verbally. Her expression said plenty. Cool appraisal with a simmering undercurrent. She leaned back in her chair, stretching out her legs with deliberate laziness. "Lady Long Legs," she repeated, tone flat. "Sounds like a dancehall name. I might keep it. Has a certain ring when you say it with an accent like that."

Vashti set the chip bowl down with a quiet thwap. "If this turns into some weird flirt-off, I'm cutting the deck with a phaser," she said, sliding into the seat beside Josef. Her tone was deadpan, but her eyes flicked toward Tenzi for a half-second, reading something unsaid. Tension--mild, manageable, but there.

Rixi dropped onto the other end of the table with a bounce, the poker chips rattling as she pulled a stack toward herself. She silently counted her credits to complete the swap and said, "Relax, Vashti. If this turns into some flirt-off, I'll clean house while the rest of you eye-fuck each other across the table."

"Charming," Vashti murmured, but a tiny trace of amusement crept into her voice. "We're still missing three."

"Oh really ? And what type of ring would that have, Lady ?" Josef continued poking her-which for him was just shit-talking like the good old days with the guys-failing to notice that he was not among guys-yet at least.

"A Flirt-off ?" he asked, only slightly puzzled-but chuckled nonetheless at both their comments. "I've cleaned the Table while Artillery was shaking the ground and the Geiger counter was ticking, I think I'll be fine." he looked back over from Rixi to Tenzi, as if giving an open challenge to her-or just an open challenge in general.

Tenzi snorted. "Alright, I like him. Let's see how long that lasts," she replied with a smile that appeared caught between seduction and defense.

Vashti closed her eyes and sighed. "Alright," she said abruptly, hoping no more subtext would pass between Josef and Tenzi.

This was going to be a long, interesting night.

* * *

Ensign Garabed "Garo" Hakobyan
Transporter Specialist
USS Elysium

&

Petty Officer 3rd Class Josef Forstinger
Security Officer
USS Elysium

&

Lieutenant JG Damien Blackford
Security Officer
USS Elysium

&

Chief Petty Officer Vashti Rao
Engineering Officer
USS Elysium

&

Ensign Tenzi Sh'reyva
Engineering Officer
USS Elysium

&

Petty Officer 2nd Class Zal Rixi
Engineering Officer
USS Elysium

&

Specialist Emiliano Echevarria
Operations Officer
USS Elysium


(Post finished and posted with only Josef and Blackford. Due to player departure, Part 2 will, unfortunately, not be finished or posted.)