Birthday Drinks
Posted on Wed Jul 2nd, 2025 @ 12:06pm by Ensign Tenzi Sh'reyva & Chief Petty Officer Vashti Rao & Petty Officer 2nd Class Zal Rixi
Edited on on Thu Jul 3rd, 2025 @ 2:50am
1,156 words; about a 6 minute read
Mission:
The Menagerie II
Location: 10-Forward (Paddy's Loft), Deck 10
Timeline: 1950 Hours
The hum of low music drifted around them before folding into the lush stars beyond the forward windows.
Paddy's Loft wasn't crowded tonight--just a scatter of off-shift officers, a few civilians, the occasional half-finished martini left to sweat on the bar.
Vashti Rao sat with one boot hooked over the rung of her stool, elbows resting on the small cocktail table. She looked as she always did off-duty: crisp but not rigid, a hint of relaxation only visible in the way her long hair fell over her shoulders instead of tied up tight.
Across from her, Zal Rixi toyed with a half-eaten plate of french fries, flicking one end over end like a shuttle in a zero-G simulation. She was still in partial uniform, jacket unzipped, hair loose in a thick braid that looked like it might unravel at any moment. She looked exactly as though she'd just crawled out of a maintenance hatch--wiry, and a bit rumpled.
Tenzi Sh'reyva occupied a nearby lounge chair, stretched-out as though she owned the place. Her antennae twitched lazily toward every sound, as if she were scanning for opportunities to laugh. Towering and electric, her blue skin and restless antennae were impossible to miss.
"Twenty-five," Tenzi declared suddenly, breaking the comfortable lull. "It sounds respectable, but it's really just the final lap before you stop getting carded at the Holodeck spa."
Rixi snorted. "I'll have you know I've been getting into adult holosim programs since I was seventeen."
"Not helping your case," Vashti cut in dryly. She took a slow sip of her synthale, watching Rixi's fries tumble across the plate for a fiftieth time.
"Point is," Tenzi continued, ignoring them both, "next week's party is the real milestone. Twenty-five and three days? That's when you peak. Everything after that is just... maintenance cycles and warranty extensions."
Rixi rolled her eyes and popped the fry into her mouth. "You both sound like the warranty department at Starbase 376. 'Yes, ma'am, your emotional life support unit has expired. Please submit a maintenance request to Deck Forty-Three.'"
Vashti allowed herself a brief albeit reluctant grin. "Well, if you didn't leave your emotional life support unit buried under dirty uniforms, maybe it wouldn't expire so quickly."
"Oh, you're one to talk," Rixi shot back. "I saw your footlocker last week. Everything arranged by colour and function, down to your spare hair ties in individual stasis pods."
"Efficiency saves lives," Vashti deadpanned.
Tenzi threw her head back in a sharp, echoing laugh that made two nearby officers jump. She patted her chest as though she were collecting herself. "I'm sorry--Vee's locker is basically a shrine to micromanagement. She probably logs her thoughts in decimal points before she crawls into bed."
"Wrong," Vashti corrected, tipping her glass. "Hexadecimal."
Rixi leaned forward, conspiratorial. "We should set odds on how many minutes into her own birthday party Vee starts reorganizing the buffet table."
"Five-to-one she starts before dessert," Tenzi said, her antennae going rigid in mock-seriousness.
"I hate both of you," Vashti muttered, though her cheeks betrayed her with some faint, rising colour.
Rixi leaned back, satisfied. "That's the spirit. To my birthday, my questionable life choices, and to Vee's tragic, ongoing war against entropy."
They clinked glasses--synthale for Vashti, something suspiciously neon for Rixi, and a towering pale ale for Tenzi.
Tenzi took a long pull from a decorative, ornate flagon, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Here's to the next few days. May they be full of poor impulse control and only minor engineering incidents."
Rixi's smirk turned thoughtful. "You know," she said, poking a finger at Vashti, "we should really add a line to the betting board for whether you and Garo finally stop doing that passing-each-other-in-the-corridor-like-you're-both-emotionally-constipated thing."
Vashti gave her a look that might have melted flesh.
"Oh no," Tenzi chimed in, bright and savage. "I've been pushing for that line for weeks. Two-to-one odds he's the one who cracks first."
Vashti drew a slow and icy breath. "If you two so much as touch that board, I will have Winters reassign you both to EPS conduit inspections that ensure you're living inside a Jefferies tube for a month."
Rixi tilted her head. "Think of the data we'd collect down there. You know how many officers hide snacks in the secondary plasma conduits?"
Tenzi leaned over, antennae angling forward like a predator's feelers. "I'm in. New side pot: how long before Vashti starts keeping emotional stasis pods for her feelings."
Vashti pressed her palms to her face. "I need stronger drinks for this shit."
"You really do," Rixi agreed, already waving to the bartender. "Next round's on me. Happy almost-birthday to me, and good luck surviving us to you." She threw Tenzi a querying look. "You only give Garo cracking two-to-one? You're optimistic. I'd put the odds closer to five-to-one, Vashti's poker face could withstand a supernova."
Tenzi shook her head, antennae twitching in amusement. "No way. Garo's the wildcard. He's charming, persistent, and annoyingly good at that half-smile that makes you want to throttle him and buy him a drink all at once."
Vashti rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Maybe you two should take a number and stop trying to diagnose my emotional plumbing like you're Starfleet counselors."
"Oh, please," Rixi said. "If Starfleet had counselors half as entertaining as us, morale would be through the roof."
Tenzi raised her glass again, the light catching on the pale ale as she grinned. "Speaking of morale, when's the last time you guys tried that holodeck karaoke program? I swear, after a few rounds, even the replicator can't mess-up the pitch."
"Terrifying thought," Vashti muttered. "That program is so bad, it's good."
Rixi laughed, elbowing her friend. "We've got to get you back in the game, Chief. I've got a feeling your technical precision style would cause a riot."
The door slid open and a few more officers drifted in, shaking-off their shifts. Tenzi's antennae perked sharply, and she gave a conspiratorial glance to the others.
"Looks like our party's getting a little company. Perfect timing for me to whip-out some of my infamous Andorian hospitality.
Vashti sighed, standing and stretching with the grace of a woman who'd spent too many hours on-duty but refused to let it show. "Let's make sure the celebration doesn't turn into a ship-wide incident."
Rixi smirked, grabbing her jacket. "No promises."
As the trio moved toward the newcomers, the ship humming gently beneath them, the night felt full of possibility. It was the kind which could only be found in shared laughter, unspoken bonds, and a few well-placed bets on the chaos to come.
* * *
Chief Petty Officer Vashti Rao
Engineering Technician
USS Astrea
&
Petty Officer 2nd Class Zal Rixi
Engineering Technician
USS Astrea
&
Ensign Tenzi Sh'reyva
Engineering Officer
USS Astrea
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