Guys' Night

Posted on Thu May 7th, 2026 @ 1:37am by Ensign Henry Taylor & Petty Officer 2nd Class Peter Kozlowski & Lieutenant Mark Valleroy & Ensign Azrael Vaux & Petty Officer 1st Class Kael Draven & Petty Officer 2nd Class Bradley Sharpe

Mission: Lower Decks
Location: Mess Hall/PO Quarters

"Brad, I'm just saying, ask Sakura to do your usual Friday night stuff on a Saturday this week and come join me for some guy time," Peter said as they walked into the Mess hall. "Poker, food, alcohol, camaraderie, and we leave the ladies to go fend for themselves without us for one night. We'll all survive one night."

“Who’ve you got so far?” Bradley asked as he followed Peter toward the replicator.

"So far, me, you--"

“I’ve not said yes yet.”

"--well I'm already counting you. So, like I said, me, you, that Trill you work with, what's-his-name? Vaux? Got a couple more on my list as well...ah ha! There he is!" Peter said, grinning, seeing his next target across the room. "C'mon."

He crossed the mess hall quickly. "Hey! Taylor!" he called.

Henry looked up from his dinner with Tessa at a quasi-familiar voice. It took him a moment before he recognized it as one of the patients Doctor Kellerman had been...examining. He glanced at Tessa and then back at the approaching crewmen. "Yes?" he said.

"Game night this Friday, my quarters," Peter said. "Doc Kellerman says you're an ace at poker so get ready to play."

Henry blinked. "I have literally never played a game of poker in my life," Henry said.

Peter let out a laugh. "Exactly what a serious poker player would say. Nice try, bud. I'm not going to fall for that one. See you Friday, 1800 hours. Bring your appetite and your A-game." He clapped Henry on the shoulder and turned back to convincing Brad.

Mark was passing by when he heard a mention of someone bringing their "A-game" and the sound of a hand dropping onto a shoulder. He glanced over to see Nurse Taylor sitting nearby looking like he'd just been talked into something that he found either fascinating or a bit horrifying but wasn't quite sure which. Remembering what had happened with trying to get the young ensign involved with Tessa early on and then what had happened after arriving at Tial, Mark mentally shuddered and as such wanted to go over and immediately demand to know what Henry was getting dragged into this time, but held back. He wanted Henry to be given the benefit of the doubt and, hoping that the young officer had learned his lesson.

But still, Mark was curious as to what was going on that anyone would need to be bringing their A-game to. And, admittedly, he realized that even after a year on board the ship, he still didn't really know a lot of the other crew very well, especially the lower ranking officers and noncoms. So he meandered on over to Henry and the others who had presumably just been speaking with him. "Not to be eavesdropping," Mark said casually, "but did I just hear someone talking about bringing their A-game along?"

The casual tone had initially thrown Bradley, but he smiled. “Yes, sir!” he said jovially. “But it’s only for those with an actual A-game to bring. Peter aside, since he’s hosting. Is that you?”

"Poker, was it?" Mark said. "Well, there's only one way for you to find out, if any of you think you're up for it."

Peter folded his arms, grinning at Mark. "If there is one thing I am always up for--the hell do you mean 'Peter aside'?" he said, suddenly shifting attention to Bradley. "I can out-deal you any day of the week and twice on Sunday." He looked back at Mark and Henry. "Again, Friday, 1800 hours, both of you be ready." He gave Bradley a shove as they walked over to the replicators again to finally order.

Tessa gave Henry a look as the two men walked away. "What is this poker he's talking about? And how do you play it? Is it fun? Can you make bets on it?" She smiled at him brightly, "Maybe we can bet who's going to get up to get the snacks tonight?"

"It's a card game," Henry said, watching the other men walk off. "It's very much something one makes bets on. You can bet whether or not I come home with my dignity after they find out I really haven't played it before."

---

Friday, 1750 hours

---

Peter had bribed Erika to give him their quarters for the evening and was enjoying what was to come. He'd set up a basic poker table and was sitting on a chair with his feet up on his bed, reading a padd and waiting for the others. He'd managed to also recruit the ship's boatswain, so they had a decent number for a game. He sipped a synthale and kept reading.

Bradley was the first to arrive. Sakura had made dinner plans with Fulvia, T’Vel, Kally and Erika, so he was free earlier than expected. He also expected the girls to be out very late, so there’d be no issue.

“Erika told me to kick your ass if you make a mess,” he told Peter. “That, or help you clean up. Either one is fine.”

Peter put a hand to his chest, adopting an affronted expression. "Bradley, I am wounded, wounded I say, that she would think I would make a mess in here after all her lectures about keeping it organized. Please, assure her she has me thoroughly domesticated by this point, and I would do nothing to jeopardize our relationship." He grinned. "Besides, no way in hell I'm giving her the satisfaction of an 'I told you so' when she said I'd be drunk in bed and covered in pretzels when she gets home."

"There's only about a twenty-one percent chance that you'll be covered in pretzels." The Trill who'd just entered stated in a matter-of-fact voice, the entry to Azrael Vaux in casual attire having been made, "That rises up to seventy-three percent if you lose in both poker and darts and drown your sorrows away. The fact that you'll be drunk approaches one hundred percent already." He smiled, "Besides, Aila thinks that Erika would find it rather cute if she found you that way, even if it would make Sakura a bit jealous." He had a habit of referring to his past hosts without making sure the others knew it was just that.

Bradley for his part laughed, having figured out that Azrael probably meant him. “I’m sure she’d find it hilarious if I woke up in as dire straits as this guy here. Sakura wouldn’t be jealous though. She’d ask if I had fun, then ask if I had fun fun.”

"Going to take a lot of alcohol for fun fun with some of this group," Peter said, standing up and coming around to clap Azrael on the shoulder. "But given Mister Probability's 'research' library, there's a chance." He smirked and gestured for the anthropologist to take a seat. "I did ask if Doc Kellerman would jump out of a cake for us." He looked at Azrael. "Wanna guess the odds?"

“If given the opportunity?” Azrael grinned widely at the thought of that doctor performing said stunt. “And naturally a cake of the appropriate dimensions, about 86 percent, but only dependent, mind you, on whether there’s an incipient medical emergency. It’s absolutely in her nature.”

"And yet, do you see a cake?" Peter lamented, then snorted a laugh and sat down at the table again, grabbing a deck, leaning back and shuffling idly.

The chime rang again and Peter called for entry again. The doors opened revealing Henry, a large container under one arm, and a padd in hand. "Thanks for the invitation," he said. "I brought a few different kinds of pretzels to eat. Figured that's a traditional poker snack."

It was almost as if visual gravity had found a center at the Trill as his eyes seemed to flicker and he smiled wickedly over at Peter. “Sixty-seven percent probability. I’ll start taking bets at two to one in favor.”

“I like those odds,” Bradley said, grinning.

Peter gave the Trill a rude gesture and beckoned Henry in. "Come in, and know me better, man," he said, gesturing to a free chair. "Your contribution is appreciated."

Henry nodded, assuming he was missing part of the conversation. He set the container down on a side table, breaking it down into a few smaller containers, then grabbed a seat next to the Trill. "Henry Taylor, Head Nurse," he said, extending a hand.

“Azrael Vaux, but most people call me Izzy or Vaux, Anthropologist and formerly a biologist and geologist, depending on which me you want to talk about.” He smiled brightly, “Also semi-professional gambler and oddsmaker due to a bad influence over the last fifty years.”

"Good to meet you," he said, then nodded to Peter. "We've met already," he said, getting another snort of a laugh from Peter. Henry looked at Bradley and held out his hand again. "You look familiar...."

“Bradley Sharpe,” he said, shaking Henry’s hand. “Chemist, and one of Espersen’s group.”

"Oh, Sakura's boyfriend," Henry said, nodding and smiling. "Kally's mentioned you...a few times."

“She has now, has she?” Bradley asked. “Am I gonna get any context on that?"

"In relation to her talking about Sakura," Henry said. "Always positive comments."

The chime rang again, and upon the call for entry Mark entered. "Good to see a good crowd here tonight," he said. "Now I know that I've brought along my A-game. The question is: Can I say the same for everyone else here?"

"I'm pretty sure I have to learn the game first," Henry said, reviewing the possible hands of standard poker on his padd.

Peter chuckled at Henry's attempt to keep up his bluff.

The chime sounded again.

The doors slid apart and Kael Draven stepped inside, wearing a casual jacket instead of his uniform and carrying the faint look of someone who had absolutely just come from fixing something important. He paused, scanned the room, clocked the poker table, the pretzels, the padd in Henry’s hands, and the very noticeable lack of alarms.

“…Oh good,” Kael said dryly. “This is the part of the night where nobody’s shooting at me.”

"Not yet, anyway," Bradley joked. "The night is young."

Kael shut the door behind him and wandered in, nodding around the group. “Petty Officer First Class Kael Draven, Boatswain. I was told there would be cards, questionable decisions, and at least one person pretending they know how poker works.” His eyes flicked to Henry’s padd. “I see we’re already on schedule.”

"Glad you could make it," Peter said, gesturing to the table as he shuffled a deck. "Make yourself comfortable."

Kael dropped into an empty chair and leaned back comfortably. “Full disclosure. I’m terrible at poker. But I am excellent at losing with confidence.” He glanced toward Peter. “And if anyone asks, I was absolutely on time. Engineering just runs on a different clock.”

He eyed the pretzels and nodded approvingly. “Alright. Deal them. If I win, I brag. If I lose, I blame Espersen.”

"That's what I do," Bradley said with a laugh. "Bradley Sharpe, chemist. There's Henry, Azrael, Peter, and you probably know Mark."

He looked to Peter. "You dealing?"

"Sure," Peter said, giving the deck one more shuffle. "Okay, there we go. And cut," he said, holding out his hand and pulling the center of the deck out and flipping it on top with one hand.

"Hey, hey, hey," Bradley said.

Peter gave Bradley a look and put the deck in front of him. Bradley picked up the deck, cutting it into two piles and put the second pile down, nodding.

"Happy now?" Peter said.

"Yes," Bradley said.

"Well that's what matters," Peter said, taking the two halves and putting them back together the way they were before dealing. "Game is Rigellian Hold'em, nothing wild this round, and no trading holodeck time for chips this hand."

"Pity about that," Mark said, taking the cards he'd been dealt and considering just how much he actually wanted to wager on this hand. "I was looking forward to getting some extra holodeck time. You know how difficult it is to keep two adolescents entertained?"

"Thankfully I don't," Bradley replied with a laugh. "How old are they?"

"The younger one just turned 11, and the older one just turned 13," Mark replied, "which means I have to put up with possibly the most difficult challenge of my career in security - a teenager!"

"My deepest sympathies," Henry said. "My older brother was a monster as a teenager. And before. And after, actually," Henry said with a half smile. "At least you have access to the brig if you need it."

“And you can send him to Science if he needs something really boring and dull to do to get him out of your hair.” Azrael took one look at his cards before stacking them neatly in front of him and tossing a couple of chips into the pot as the initial ante, “Though I suspect that if he needs entertained that it can also be arranged. Science for teenagers is easy, let them make elements explode and they get all giddy.”

"But we can't promise that we wouldn't teach him to use science for evil or personal gain," Bradley added. "I distinctly recall my one cool high school science teacher showing us the chemical reactions for making MDMA. No one did it, at least I don't think, but we all learned how, and more than one of us went into Science as a career."

"No wonder so many of my friends have been science majors," Peter said, idly.

"Nothing wrong with knowing the science geeks," Mark said. "Some of the ones I've known have been very useful over the years."

"There ya go, see?" Peter said, giving Bradley a pat on the arm. "I told you you're useful."

Henry chuckled to himself and ate a pretzel.

Peter finished dealing two cards to each player and put three face down on the table to be flipped at the end of the betting. He looked to his left. "Ante up, Bradley boy."

"Ante...the initial stake in the pot of the game," Henry said to himself, checking his padd.

"That's right," Bradley said as he put down a couple of chips before looking at his cards. "The Big Blind. Sakura's nickname for me when I don't notice something obvious," he joked while picking up his cards.

Kael squinted at his two cards like they were a maintenance log written in ancient Vulcan, then slid his ante into the pot with the confidence of a man who absolutely did not know what he was doing. “Big Blind, huh. If we’re handing out titles, put me down as ‘Preventive Maintenance.’ Nobody appreciates me until something catches fire.” He leaned toward the pretzels, snagged one, and nodded like it was part of the strategy. “Also, for the record, letting an eleven-year-old make elements explode is how you get a teenager with a hero complex and a suspiciously detailed knowledge of ship systems. That’s not science, that’s my future paperwork.”

"Mine too when he inevitably explodes something on himself," Henry said. He looked at his cards, trying not to glance at his padd of notes and remember what-beat-what. "Okay so, if I want to bet more....I raise? That's it, right? I raise ten?" He put his stack of chips in the center of the table.

"That's right..." Bradley said, eyeing the nurse. He kept any thoughts to himself at that moment. If this guy was putting on an act, it was best for him if everything thought it was working.

Glancing at his own hand again, Mark said, "And I'll see your ten and raise you twenty," while tossing in the appropriate chips. "And just for the record, if anyone gives a certain eleven-year-old or thirteen-year-old on this ship any ideas about making anything explode outside of the holodeck is going to be the one getting a good reminder of the fact that I've got compete access to the brig when I need it."

"Hmph... You're no fun." Azrael leaned back in his chair as he considered the odds of his hand winning, "And it would only be in the best educational environment and in a controlled space." He leaned forward and picked up thirty in chips, considered them and tossed them in, "I'll call for now."

"Call as well," Peter said, rubbing his cards together and thinking.

Kael stared at his cards for a long moment. Then he blinked. Then, with entirely too much confidence for someone who had openly admitted he did not understand half the terminology at this table, he shoved his entire stack of chips into the center.

“All in.”

He leaned back like he had just solved warp field theory.

“I’ve survived boarders, a cloaked command ship, and Patel asking if a phaser has a ‘simmer setting.’ I refuse to be defeated by laminated rectangles.”

He let the words settle. Then slowly turned his head. To the right.

He looked at Bradley. He looked back at the pot. He blinked. “…Oh.”

Kael reached forward and gently hooked his chips with two fingers, dragging them back toward his side just enough to show he had realized something very important.

“You’re on my right.” He nodded solemnly. “Which means I just skipped you. Again. That is twice today I have violated procedural order. I’m going to lose my Boatswain certification at this rate.”

He gave Bradley a respectful little gesture with two fingers. “Chemist first. Then I recklessly destabilize the table economy.”

Settling back, he rested his hands on his stack like a coiled spring. “Take your turn, Sharpe. I’ll resume terrifying everyone in approximately twelve seconds.”

“And are you sure that you’d want to go all in on the first hand, Draven?” Azrael asked him with a bit of a smirk, “Even notwithstanding that this is meant to be a friendly game to wile away some time, which would preclude slower bidding, even pocket aces would have only a forty-two percent win rate overall, especially before the dealer shows the three down cards.” The Trill gave a shrug, “If we’re going to go with a not-so-friendly game, just let me know and we’ll see who comes out ahead. Alia loves pushing baby chicks into the near-pike ponds besides, there’s ‘terrifying’ everyone and then there’s just being a bully.” His voice just sounded lazy, no heat to it.

Bradley for his part had already contributed to the blind. The stakes had been raised, and there was the anticipation of an 'all in'.

He laughed and tossed his cards face down onto the table. "Go all in if you want, man, but you're not getting any more from me this time. Even if you're probably full of it."

Henry looked at Kael, then his cards, then Kael again. "Nope," he said. "I'd like to survive a second hand." He threw his cards down on the table.

"You know I'm all in," Mark said pushing all his chips in. "Fortune favors the bold, after all."

Watching Kael the entire time, Azrael gave a slight shrug and with two fingers pushed his cards in towards the middle, "Not that I think you have it, necessarily, but for now I intend to be cautious. Fold."

Kael watched Azrael slide his cards forward and fold, giving a small nod like he had expected that outcome all along.

“Prudent move,” he said calmly, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying very hard not to look pleased with himself.

Then Peter started talking.

Peter watched Kael carefully. "You are baiting us," he said, pointing at Kael. "I know baiting when I see it. I am a master baiter. Let me rephrase that," he said, holding up a finger at Bradley without looking over. "I'll call." He put his chips in the center.

Kael listened to the explanation, the accusation, and then the… unfortunate phrasing.

He blinked once.

Then twice.

“Peter… buddy… you might want to log that sentence and run a diagnostic on it later,” Kael said, rubbing his forehead like he had just witnessed a small warp core breach in the English language.

When Peter pushed his chips in to call, Kael sat up a little straighter, tapping his cards lightly against the table again.

“See, now this is the kind of reckless confidence I respect,” he said. “You looked at the situation, evaluated the risks, ignored most of them, and committed anyway. That’s how half the repairs on this ship get approved.”

The betting as over as it could be, and Peter dealt out the flop, a queen, a jack and an ace; the turn, a four; and the river, an eight. He then flipped over the original three face-down cards at the center of the table, revealing another queen, a six and a three.

When Peter flipped the last three cards onto the table, Kael leaned forward, squinting at them like they were an engineering schematic he wasn’t entirely sure how to read.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Those look important.”

He glanced around the table, then added with a faint grin, “I’m going to assume that either just helped me a lot… or I’ve just made the most dramatic mistake of my career.”

Mark said, "Well, I may be going out on a limb here, but we might all be making that particular statement to some degree or another."

Peter looked at his two cards and sighed, flipping them over, revealing a jack and a king. "Two pair, jacks and queens," he sighed, looking at their cards.

Mark flipped his two cards over to reveal two queens. "I believe this makes four of a kind on my part."

Henry checked his notes. "That's...almost the best hand you can get, right?" He looked around.

Peter eyed him and then nodded. "Yup. Mark wins the pot." He looked at Kael. "Want to grab a drink? We're going to be sitting out for a bit."

"There's a bottle of the Good Stuff on the table," Bradley said, pointing to a clear liquid in a transparent bottle with no label. "It's for sipping though, so careful. It took ages to get just right."

"You are a Prince among Men," Peter said, grabbing the bottle and going to the replicator for a glass. "Anyone else?" he said, replicating a glass and pouring himself two fingers' worth. He sniffed and blinked a few times, then took a small sip. He coughed and choked, convulsing slightly as he sputtered and finally swallowed, taking a shaky breath. "Smooth," he said, taking a second sip a bit easier.

"Wuss!" Bradley said.

"Anybody else?" Peter said.

"None here, thank you," Mark said as he gathered up his accumulated pot. "You'd be surprised at the tactical advantages of keeping a clear head in a situation like this." He added a wink for emphasis.

"Yeah, you'd better pour me one," Bradley said. "Thanks."

Henry shrugged. "Why not? I can't play worse, so it can only help, right? Small glass, please."

"I'll take one, I'll just take my time with it." He waved one finger up at Peter, "Not that Vaux'll really enjoy it."

Peter handed out the glasses and sat back down, popping another pretzel into his mouth. "Your deal," he said, handing the cards to Bradley, which he took and started to shuffle.

"Same rules as before," Bradley said, passing out the cards as Peter had done previously. "Mark, you're the blind."

"All right," Mark said with a nod. "Let's do this."

Peter sat back with his drink and watched Bradley deal. "See, Bradley, this is why we need to get you out of your lab more often. We could be taking half the ship for their holodeck privileges with shuffling that smooth."

"But if you take him out of our labs, then we officers, especially myself, would have more work to do." Azrael complained as he picked up his cards an appraised them without any expression. King pair, much better, "And I'd have to handle some of the other crewmen more, way beyond me."

"The man's got a point," Bradley observed. "Can't have the officers doing any actual work now, can we?"

"Not to mention, he'd have less opportunity to brew something to make losing more enjoyable," Henry said, taking another sip. he looked at his cards and mulled them over. A pair of jacks wasn't the worst hand, but he'd have to see what was dealt.

Mary had once described a girls’ sleepover she went to and Henry was completely bewildered. Guys at school would talk about camping, computer games and just staying up all night, meanwhile girls were making blood oaths and summoning demons.

Henry didn’t think they’d be getting that wild that evening, but as the drinks continued to pour, he was feeling decidedly more relaxed, and the others seemed to be as well. But that’s what a good night out was, right? A chance to relax and not feel the pressures of the outside world. It was still a somewhat new sensation for him, but he was finding he enjoyed it, even if he was losing.

Azrael was kind enough to keep track of which cards had already been played and would proudly announce the odds of his winning every time he laid down his hand. Unfortunately, as the game continued, and he opted for a second drink, his math became more unreliable, and his luck turned.

Peter and Kael sat back and nursed their drinks--well, Kael nursed, Peter tossed one back then poured another--and watched the game. Henry had gone out soon after, his pair of jacks leading him down a road of bad decisions. Peter shook his head every time he saw Henry fold when his eyes said he had a good potential hand, and sighed when Henry would bet more, clearly being baited by the more experienced players. Kally lied through her teeth about this guy, he thought, half amused.

Peter was more impressed with Mark’s skills, as he was giving Bradley Boy a run for his money, literally and figuratively. By the end, there was more gambling coming from him and Kael better who would win out than from Brad and Mark exchanging chips.

And then, after several folds, six more hands, five rounds of meatball sliders, four close comebacks, three drinks for Henry, two final players and a partridge in a pear tree, the Valleroy Poker Face (Patent Pending) won out. Bradley knew his club flush was a great hand, but Mark’s diamond flush had a better high card. And, just like that, a champion was crowned.

The others had offered to help clean up, but in reality there wasn’t much to do. Glasses were recycled, snacks were put on the nearby desk, the chips and cards were put in their case and the table folded up. Henry helped Azrael out the door and back to his quarters, Kael gave everyone a wave and suggested they do it again sometime. Mark shook Bradley and Peter’s hands and thanked them for a fun evening.

With just Peter and Brad left, Peter stumbled over to his side of the room and let out a groan as he dropped onto his bunk. “I guess I showed her,” he said.

“Her?” Brad echoed.

“We didn’t make a mess, and I’m not completely drunk and covered in pretzels,” Peter said victoriously, ignoring that he was reasonably buzzed. “I know Erika enjoys telling me she told me so, but this time, I get to impress her.” He yawned deeply. “Thanks for coming tonight. I needed a night to just relax with friends.”

“What are friends for?” Brad said. He looked at Peter for a moment. “You know, if you really want to impress Erika…” he paused as he realized Peter had fallen asleep already. He shook his head, then got an idea so good he couldn’t resist. He walked over to the bowl of snacks still on the table, picked up one pretzel and placed it gently on Peter’s forehead, not waking him up. He grinned and left Peter’s quarters, heading home to Sakura.