The mess hall felt different tonight. The usual energy was absent, replaced by a quiet that bordered on uneasy. Troy Hayes, never one to let a bad day linger, had decided to organize a poker night. He knew the crew needed a break, something to take their minds off the repairs and the last mission. The tables were pushed together, a few worn decks of cards spread out, with a makeshift pot of snacks and a couple of old liquor bottles in the center.
Troy shuffled the cards with an easy smile, glancing around at the small group that had gathered. Nina sat close enough that their elbows brushed occasionally, while a few techs, a MechWarrior, and a new recruit rounded out the table. They all looked tired but willing to give it a try.
The game started slowly. Troy dealt the cards, tossing out the occasional comment, but the usual banter was subdued. The first few rounds passed with more folding than betting, the pot barely growing as the crew hesitated to engage fully.
Nina leaned into the game with her usual confidence, tossing in chips with a smirk and exchanging the occasional glance with Troy. There was something in those glances, a playful challenge. Troy responded in kind, raising the stakes when she did, matching her energy as best he could.
But the rest of the table was slow to catch on. Emily played mechanically, her mind clearly elsewhere, and the new recruit kept fidgeting with his cards, unsure whether to fold or raise.
Stolen story; please report.
Troy noticed but didn’t push it. He kept the atmosphere light, coaxing a few smiles from the group. Slowly, the crew began to engage more with the game, the rhythm of the cards and chips taking hold. Emily made a bold bet, surprising everyone—including herself—while the recruit began to relax, his nervous energy easing into the flow of the game.
The night wore on, and the mood began to shift subtly. The conversations around the table were sparse but carried a lighter tone. A shared chuckle here, a brief exchange of glances there. The tension that had gripped them all seemed to ease, if only slightly.
As the game continued, Troy couldn’t help but notice how the crew’s shoulders seemed to loosen, how the lines of worry on their faces softened just a bit. The stakes remained low, but that wasn’t the point.
When the final hand was played and the chips were gathered, the crew began to disperse, moving slowly as if reluctant to leave the comfort of the table. Nina stood, stretching her arms above her head, catching Troy’s eye once more before she turned to go. He considered saying something, but the moment passed, leaving him with unspoken words burning in the tip.of his tongue.
Left alone with the cards and the empty bottles, Troy began to clean up. The mess hall was quiet again, but it felt different now—less heavy, more peaceful. As he stacked the chairs and wiped down the table, he reflected on the night, on the crew, and on whatever might come next. For tonight, this small reprieve was enough.