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"There's your fifty, and two hundred more."

"Y'know Tijon, the key to an effective bluff is that you have to actually have a hand every once in a while."

The lithe, pale blue-skinned Bolian chief engineer rolled her eyes and an exasperated grin formed on her face as she glanced along the table at her blonde pony-tailed opponent. Though he was four years her senior and powerfully built like a parisses squares player, the young Trill Lieutenant had the innocent arrogance of a teenager and had made it his mission to ingratiate himself with her ever since he came aboard. She couldn't be sure if it was some kind of inferiority complex or that he was attracted to her, every interaction seemed like an attempt to impress and please her. It annoyed her no end, but while she was certain she didn't share his feelings, some part of her couldn't help but be amused at his antics. It was the only thing that allowed her to show patience with him.

"Who's bluffing? It's just that I think I hear your chips calling to me. They're saying 'Please, take us with you, please, it's so cold and lonely next to Zarva'," Tijon whined mockingly.

A collective sigh of exasperation rang out throughout the whole table and as Tijon's practiced machismo began to wear thin.

"Putting aside your misguided belief that poker chips can speak, Mr. Tijon, I find it highly illogical that Zarva's chips would say that. You have been losing your own chips at a steady rate throughout the night," came the monotone reply from the raven-haired Vulcan science officer seated across the table from Tijon.

T'Vrell glanced down with her eyes as if to point it out to the stocky Trill. Tijon's chip stack was the smallest of all and he was in danger of being cleaned out in one or two hands. The blonde trill followed her gaze for a moment, but could only scoff as he downplayed what was being said.

"Yeah, yeah, I made a few bad calls, big deal. Now, who's in?"

Tijon glared eagerly around the table at the six other officers at the table. It was the fifth street of five-card-stud and only four remained: he, Zarva, Commander Elisa Flores his XO, and Lieutenant R'Mira, the tall, lanky, Caitian counselor and linguistics officer.

Tijon had been surprised the Lieutenant had hung in as long as he had on this hand. His jet- black fur, tall stature and pensive demeanor made him seem imposing, aloof and almost intimidating to those who did not know him. But, there was no one more warm, open and thoughtful on the whole ship and once he began talking, he had a way of instantly putting

people at ease. He was a good counselor, but Tijon considered him easy prey in a game like this. He was to nice, too honest. Tijon shot a mock-arrogant glare at R'Mira as he waited for an answer from the group. A low growl came up from the Caitian's throat, his ears began to tilt backward, and his thick tail swished from side to side as his took a pensive look at his hole card. He had a fair hand so far with a possible straight, but wasn't looking confident about it at all. Caitians could have so many tells, particulary R'Mira.

"Rrrr. The cards seem to have grown weary of me. I fold."

Called it again.

Tijon turned to the maroon haired human commander, who had a shit-eating grin on her face and was shaking her head. The stocky trill put as much effort as he could into maintaining his bravado, but the look on Flores' face said she had something up her sleeve and it was taking the wind out of his sails little by little.

"As much as I'd love to stay in it, I'd prefer to play another hand, Elisa. I fold," Zarva said, earning a chuckle from the young commander.

"Well Lieutenant, if Zarva's not going to take responsibility for busting you up, looks like I've got to. I think your chips are the ones that need rescuing. I call. You're bluffing."

The arrogant grin finally withered away from Tijon's face as he looked down at his cards, then over at Flores', then at his. He had three queens and a nine of clubs against Flores' two pair of sixes and Jacks, but the look on the Commander's face told him that his hole card wouldn't hold up.

Tijon tentatively turned his hole card over as his human opponent confidently turned over hers. It was the two of clubs, and Zarva shook her head in mocking disbelief as Flores glanced at her third jack.

"Damn," he grunted as Zarva gave a scoff.

"Three of a kind stands, Commander Flores wins with a full house," announced T'Vrell as Flores confidently collected her chips and T'Vrell collected the cards to re-shuffle.

"Rrrr... It might have been wise to listen to your superior officer when you had the chance..." R'Mira put in as Tijon seemed to finish his humble pie and the arrogant grin returned to his face.

"This attitude of yours might have gotten you by at the Academy, but there's a lot you need to learn about real poker, Lieutenant," Zarva chided.

"What do you mean, you take a calculated risk every time you try to steal a base. Sometimes you can fake out the pitcher, sometimes you get caught."

"Stealing a base...what-I don't know what you're talking about," wondered Flores, losing her cool bravado for a moment and looking to T'Vrell for help.

"Rrrr, He's talking about baseball," said the last player in their game.

She was a muscular, golden-furred Caitian Lieutenant with a short, tuft-like Mohawk atop her head, and had the fur around her eyes dyed black in a circular pattern, somewhat similar to human makeup. Lieutenant M'Rerra, co-chief of security, gave off an air of cool confidence similar to Flores, though the almost lyrical speech pattern common to her species made her come off as slightly less intimidating and a bit more warm than her human XO.

"Ah, one of the few true gentlemen's games invented by humans, though sadly not as widely played as it should be, rrrr," waxed R'Mira who seemed to lose himself in the romanticism of his speech as he looked up at the ceiling in fond remembrance.

"See? R'Mira knows what I'm talking about," Tijon said excitedly, giving the Caitian's shoulder a friendly pat and shake.

Zarva couldn't help but roll her eyes in disbelief that R'Mira had accidently fanned Tijon's ego by giving him validation.

"Y'know it's kind of sad that a Caitian has to explain baseball to a human," Tijon teased, only for the smile to be wiped from his face a moment later as he noticed both Flores, Zarva and M'Rerra were all staring daggers at him, tired of his antics.

A blast of cold shot down his throat as his eyebrows stood at attention in embarrassment. His mind began to race as he wondered just how far over the line he had gone.

"Umm...no offense intended ma'am."

"No, please Lieutenant, don't let me stop you, keep digging," Flores replied in a measured, even voice, while continuing to cast a steely gaze in his direction.

Still thoroughly uncomfortable and needing an out fast, Tijon tentatively looked to R'Mira who, though somewhat amused that the Trill had been put in his place, seemed unaffected by the comment.

"So, did you play R'Mira? Like at the Academy or something? I thought you were all about boats."

"Indeed, I did play a few intramural seasons, but you're right, Lieutenant, the beauty of the sea proved too appealing to resist. Had things turned out differently, I might be riding the Azure sea on Ferasa with Federation Naval Patrol right now."

"Rrr, as if your clan would have allowed that, eh cousin? If it wasn't art, science or academia- related, the elders wouldn't allow anyone in our clan to have anything to do with it. My parents practically disowned me when I told them I wanted to drop out of college to join the tactical course at the Academy," explained M'Rerra to the group.

"Alas, we must all make sacrifices for the greater good. But, back to the original subject, I believe the Lieutenant would still be with the Pike City Pioneers if he'd had his way, am I right?" R'Mira asked.

"Damn right. Serving in Starfleet is all well and good, but there's nothing that can beat the pop of the ball in your glove when you've made a double play for your hometown team. I feel you on the parents thing too R'Mira. Mine were all like, 'You've got to move on with your life, get into Starfleet, apply to the symbiosis commission, get joined', 'It's the greatest honor our species can have' and all that. Would have happened too if the Klingons hadn't decided to get all rowdy and start a war. Now I don't even have that to look forward to."

"Oh, woe is you..." chided Zarva.

"Hey, it's not like my parents were wrong, it is a big deal! It's not like many Trill get chosen to be joined. Sharing thousands of years of memories with another being sounds amazing, I just wanted to do it on my own terms, not because my parents told me to. Jeez, when do we stop reacting to our parents and start living for ourselves?"

"It does seem to be a common complaint among this crew. My parents were most...displeased when I was unable to achieve Kolinahr," T'Vrell added earnestly.

"Do you people want to compare sob-stories or do you want to play?" interrupted Flores, an amused grin on her face, but a harder edge to her tone indicating her discomfort with the current subject.

"What, your parents rough on you too comm-" Tijon began.

"-Not tonight, Tijon," Flores cut him off, her expression beginning to harden.

The bitterness and resentment of having to raise seven siblings in La Paz virtually on her own began to bubble to the surface, but Flores pushed those emotions down quickly. She was beyond that now. Her so-called 'parents' were still in Bolivia, and she was the first officer of a Federation starship. Her duty, her honor and her oath to serve a greater purpose put her above all that petty nonsense.

Elisa's thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the high-pitched door chime sounded and all heads in the room turned towards the door, curious to who it might be.

"Come in!"

With a hiss, the doors slid open and Flores' dour expression vanished immediately at the sight of their commanding officer, and one of her best friends, in the doorway.

Captain Mark Logan, a lanky, studious-looking man of twenty-eight stood tentatively in the doorway, running a hand through his brown faux-hawk. The group's collective eyes darted between the Captain and each other, wondering what the matter might be. Logan had seldom interrupted their card games unless something was up, and they began to wonder why he hadn't called on the comm for something important.

"Captain...?" asked Zarva.

"Am I interrupting?" Logan asked, an awkward, apprehensive smile adorning his face as he glanced around at his fellow offices

"No, is there a problem, sir?" T'Vrell asked.

"No, I just had a few off hours and I wondered if I might join you, uh...unless you're full up-"

"Ugh, come on Mark, are you going to keep asking permission or are you going to pull up a chair? My cards are getting cold." Flores interrupted in mock-annoyance.

The apprehension ebbed away from Logan's face as he returned his friend's sarcasm with a grin and pulled up a chair between R'Mira and Tijon. As he sat down, he couldn't help but sense a warmth coming from table at his presence, easing his tension. It become more and more acute, and after an instinctive look across the table at M'Rerra, he wasn't at all surprised that the warmth was centered around his golden-furred friend.

Her smile was subtle on the outside, but the familiar feeling that passed between them washed away any lingering awkwardness between them. The power of the Caitian bond was incredibly strong and lasted a lifetime, and despite his trepidation at being around her when she first came aboard, it made his heart full to see that their connection was still there and that his presence seemed to brighten her day a little.

"You do know you're always welcome here, Captain, rrrrghrr?" M'Rerra finally said, causing Logan to finally reciprocate her smile.

"Yeah, you'd canceled on us so many times, I was starting to think you'd never come to one of these," Zarva added.

Her gold coat shimmered under the illumination of the room, and the dark patterns around her eyes only added to the entrancing gaze of her green eyes and slit-eyelids as he looked at her

"Someone has to run the ship." Logan said in mock-apology.

"I think he was scared that we wouldn't want him in the group because we'd be afraid of beating the boss. Which, I guess I can understand, because he's such a lousy card player, that's a virtual certainty."

Flores basked in her own amusement as she saw Logan squirm subtly in his seat in response to her ribbing. It was so much fun to see him try to hold back from going ballistic at her teasing.

Though the two were friends, they couldn't have been any more different in their career aspirations. Flores had been on the command track virtually from the moment she was born. A member of her high school's honor guard, a Nova Squadron member, and later the leader of Red Squad at the academy, it was her destiny to command a starship. Logan, on the other hand, was a nerd, a lab rat. He wanted nothing more than to study physiology and wouldn't have been in Starfleet at all had it not been for the urging of others who had worked with him. What's more, all it had taken was a few good performances in command-track electives at the academy to get him a first-officer position on their training cruise, and then a command performance in the crises that followed to convince Admiral Quinn that he was Captain material right out of the academy.

It wasn't fair. He wasn't nearly as comfortable being in charge as she was, and his approach in commanding the crew seemed to waver from time to time, though never enough to endanger the ship. Being a Captain was her dream, not his, and yet, despite his insecurities, he had been selected over her. Nevertheless, they were still friends and she was going to use her knowledge to help him be the best Captain he could be, because she couldn't deny that he could be a great one. Still, she wanted his job more than anything, and damned if she wasn't going to enjoy reminding him about it.

"That may be, but I have been known to walk away with a few chips from time to time," Logan countered.

"Since when?" Elisa scoffed.

"Yes, I attended many card games in our time at the academy and yet I do not recall a specific instance where you were victorious," T'Vrell agreed.

"Don't tell me you forgot about Terry DeBoer at that place in Oakland," Logan countered

"Mark, Terry knew less about poker than a Borg drone knows about sensitivity training, but since you're so cocky tonight, let's make it interesting. The game is: No-Limit Texas Hold 'em. Big blind is 40, Small is 20. M'Rerra, T'Vrell, that's you."

"I don't understand your fascination with this game, Commander, rrrgh. It seems so vulgar and self-indulgent," R'Mira complained.

"Why's that?" asked Flores.

"It just seems so reckless to bet four times instead of two and potentially throw everything away in one hand."

"You can always opt out if you want, R'Mira. No one's putting a phaser to your head," Flores countered.

R'Mira seemed to consider for a moment before giving a defeated sigh.

"One must respect how the cards fall as well as one respects the flow of the mighty sea. However, a sailor who hides from the sea is no sailor at all. I'm in," R'Mira said with renewed confidence.

With that, Tijon, having the lowest chip count of all, dealt two cards to each of the seven players, before drawing three more and leaving them face down for the flop. Logan looked at his cards. He had a nine and eight of clubs. He looked across the table at M'Rerra and Flores, then across to T'Vrell. Having broken the Kolinahr discipline, the emotion the long-haired Vulcan could occasionally show sometimes gave a tell or two away. This time however, she had her characteristic Vulcan stoicism firmly in place as she checked her cards. Flores had a confident smile on and M'Rerra shot Logan a mischievous grin. She liked him, but was equally determined to beat him.

R'Mira quickly folded after the first bets had been placed and Tijon, finally taking Zarva's advice, decided to see how things played out and folded as well. Zarva was the first to bet, doubling the big blind, and it seemed like everyone had enough confidence in their cards to call.

Tijon turned over the cards for the flop: 6, 7 and 10 of clubs. M'Rerra decided to gauge Logan's reaction to the flop.

"Check."

Logan's brow furrowed a bit and he squirmed a little in his seat but tried to expose no other weakness as he tapped the table with his knuckles, indicating his decision to check as well.

M'Rerra's training as a security officer kicked in as her brain tried to decipher any meaning behind Logan's expression. He, Flores and T'Vrell had been close friends at the Academy, but she had known him since their college days back on Ferasa and figured she could detect a weakness in him better than anyone, even Commander Flores. If anything, she was more fixated on the unfairness of their current situation than Flores was.

She was a tactical specialist through and through just like Elisa, with stints in Nova Squadron and Red Squad on her resume?, yet she had graduated the academy four years earlier, long before the Klingon War. Whereas Elisa had been gifted her first officer position because of Starfleet's desperation, M'Rerra had had to work her way up the ranks the hard way, serving on three different ships before the Discovery and earning the rank of Lieutenant on her own merit. Part of her resented Logan for his good fortune, he had been gifted the very thing she had worked sacrificed so much for, and he had never even wanted it. Her career had strained her relationship with her clan and had cost her a relationship with Mark, and yet here he was, in her way.

Fortunately, there was another part of her that, just like Flores, wanted Mark to succeed, but there was more to it. Regardless of how complicated their situation was now, their past experiences, even if they had not come to full fruition, had resulted in the Caitian 'bond'. She was drawn to him, and he to her, and would be until one of them died. Caitians held loyalty in the same regard as Vulcans regarded logic, and the 'bond' only served to strengthen her desire to help him in any way she could. Despite his insecurity and the fact that she knew she would make a better Captain than him, she knew the potential he held and wanted him to show what he could do and be happy above all else. They continued to exchange glances until her attention was caught by Flores, who seemed even more confident than before.

"Ok, let's see who wears the pants on this ship. Three hundred," she said, letting each individual chip fall from her outstretched fingers onto the table in a dramatic fashion.

"Why splash the pot, number one? Rumor has it that's Tijon's job," Logan asked trying to keep a monotone, while Tijon rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Agreed. I see no logic in increasing the bet so sharply. It would make your intentions clear to everyone. You are trying to intimidate the Captain based on his inexperience with this game," T'Vrell added.

Flores shot an annoyed look at her Vulcan friend before returning to Logan.

"Well it's pretty obvious that Mark's on a draw, right Mark? I'm just curious which cards are going to get him out of it. Also, last I checked these are my quarters, and this is my game. I can splash the pot whenever I want."

Elisa's voice was laced with so much sarcasm and forcefulness that several brows furrowed among the group at her uncharacteristic brashness.

"Rrrrgh, easy there, Commander. He could get you on insubordination for that one," M'Rerra warned half-jokingly with a growl. Flores was treading the line between friendly banter and impudence, and M'Rerra intended to let her know about it. It wasn't fair to Mark.

Logan, for his part, seemed momentarily shaken by her words, his eyes darting between his cards and his first officer's blue eyes.

"Maybe, but I think I'd rather call. Three hundred." Logan finally said, laying his chips down.

"It would be unwise to involve myself in your personal feud. I fold," T'Vrell said with what sounded like a hint of indignance at her human colleagues.

"I fold as well," Zarva said evenly, laying her cards down.

"What, are you kidding, Zarva? You've got the second-most chips of anyone, you're not going to see it through?" Tijon asked.

"You heard T'Vrell. Elisa's on a mission and I don't think I'm interested in joining." "I don't know what any of you are talking about, it's just a game."

Flores gave a disbelieving laugh, looking around at her fellow officers; doing as much as she could to downplay the fact that they could all see right through her.

All eyes then went to M'Rerra who was trying her damnedest to keep her ears and tail under control to avoid letting any tells show as R'Mira had.

"I call. As security chief it's my duty to investigate any dispute on this ship. Even playground spats between senior officers." She said flatly, laying her chips down.

"As you wish, Lieutenant." Flores sighed as Tijon drew another card, putting it in the discard pile before drawing the turn card.

The two of spades.

Mark seemed to think for a moment before tapping his hand on the table. M'Rerra followed suit soon after. Elisa smirked again before slowly placing her hand on another stack of chips.

"What's the pot now, six-eighty? Sounds like a good round number to me." Flores said, the brashness returning to her voice as she laid down her stack.

"Really, Elisa?" M'Rerra asked, her frustration becoming more apparent.

"I don't know, she might have a point. It's a good number to me too. I call," Logan said with just the slightest hint of sarcasm.

"M'Rerra?"

M'Rerra found it hard to break herself out of her annoyance at Logan and Elisa's pissing contest. It was pointless and counter-productive to their relationship as officers. But more than that, she couldn't deny that hot pangs of jealousy were bubbling up in her that they were close enough to be able to rib each other like this. Her rational mind tried to take control. Elisa played for a different 'team' than Logan. She wasn't a threat in that regard, but it hurt to see them this close nonetheless.

Damn 'bonding'.

Regaining her composure, she called upon her training to thrust those thoughts out her mind and return to practical matters. She was running out of chips and wasn't sure how much longer she could stay in the game with the way things were going. Finally, her inquisitive side won out and she decided to see how far she could go. They were only chips.

"Very well, I call as well." Tijon drew another card, putting it in the discard pile before drawing the river card. The ace of diamonds. "Check," Logan said a little too quickly for M'Rerra's taste.

"All in." M'Rerra said, pushing her chips to the front. It may have seemed rash to everyone else, but it was a calculated move on her part. She only had three hundred left to bet, and she expected Flores to pull an even bigger stunt to intimidate Mark when her turn came.

She was not disappointed. Elisa dramatically pushed all her chips to the front, smirking tauntingly at Logan. "I think I'll bet it all too, I doubt that ace helped Mark very much. Let's see them, eh?"

M'Rerra reluctantly turned her cards up with a sigh, she had two pair. Elisa confidently displayed hers, she had a full house. Logan let out a defeated sigh before he returned his gaze from his cards to his first officer.

"Not much could've help me after the flop, I'm afraid." He said quietly before turning over his cards. A collective cry of surprise rang out through the small quarters and Elisa's confident grin evaporated instantly the moment her eyes met his cards.

"Then again, you usually don't need much help with a ten-high straight flush," Logan said with an innocent, almost apologetic grin.

Flores' brow furrowed in disbelief and a grunt escaped her lips before she turned her gaze back up to meet Logan's. For a brief moment, they stared at each other, a quiet respect flowing between them before a grin returned to her face.

"Well played, Captain." She said, standing up to shake Logan's hand. M'Rerra looked on, a purr escaping her throat as a grin of admiration blossomed on her face.

The revelry did not last long as the ship's intercom blipped suddenly, snapping all the officers to attention.

"Bridge to Logan." Logan's brow furrowed as he tapped his comm-badge, he wasn't expecting a call. "Logan here, go ahead mister Kolez." "Sir, communication coming in from Starfleet Command, it's labeled urgent." "Route it to my ready room, I'm on my way."

Logan got up from his chair and headed for the door, concern in his face. But just as he reached the door he seemed to remember something and a grin once again found its way to his face as he turned back towards the group.

"Pleasure doing business with you, number one." "Anytime, Captain."