The Long Game
Posted on Fri Jul 17th, 2026 @ 12:39pm by Lieutenant JG Tavian Rhos & Lieutenant JG Thava zh’Reth
Edited on on Fri Jul 17th, 2026 @ 9:47pm
2,811 words; about a 14 minute read
Mission:
Mission 1: Through the Janus Gate
Location: Aft Viewing Lounge - Deck 3 - USS Resolute
Timeline: MD002 2030 hrs
The evening was quiet so far in the aft lounge, only a few tables were occupied compared to the busier main lounge on the forward part of the same deck. The streaking lights of the warp field effect drifted away from the ship back here when one looked out the viewport, rather than towards them. Some people never grew accustomed to that sight, it could cause some nausea or discomfort, but Tavian didn't mind. He found the effect oddly calming, it could help him focus. Somewhat.
Despite what some might think of him, with his boisterous ways and larger-than-life personality, Tav could be a thoughtful too. There were times he enjoyed a bit of quiet, letting the stars slip away from him rather than rushing towards them, to get away from the background noise of too many minds pushing in all around. Not often, perhaps, and he'd laugh off anyone trying to point out, but tonight he was in the mood for a little introspection with a dash of distraction, mixed with enough peace that he hopefully wouldn't get a headache.
The 3D Chess table Tav had set up under one of the large viewports glowed softly from the holographic pieces that were arrayed on it. This configuration was known as the S'vec Gambit, a highly aggressive and complicated strategy developed by a Vulcan of the same name that Tavian had never been able to reason out how to counter properly. Rather than sit, he held a drink in one hand, something fruity and non-syntheholic tonight, and slowly paced around the table. Still in uniform, he had been at it now for over an hour, analyzing the board from different angles and sides. Every time he'd encountered this arrangement in a game, he'd inevitably lost, sooner rather than later too. Try to break out of the obvious trap and three more were ready to spring behind that, and more beyond those. Try to swing around and go on the offensive, and run afoul of a guard ready for that and a costly loss of pieces.
There had to be a way to beat this. There was no such thing as a no-win scenario, no matter what Starfleet taught.
That made it harder not to think of the Meridian. What could he have done differently? There had to have been a solution that wouldn't have cost half the crew their lives. Yet, just like with the S'vec Gambit, Tav couldn't figure it out.
Thava had chosen the aft lounge because the forward one was already loud enough to qualify as a minor tactical event.
She had changed out of uniform, though the straight-backed way she carried herself had survived the transition, and collected a mug of strong tea before looking for somewhere quiet. The table beneath the viewport would have done nicely, had someone not occupied it with a glowing three-dimensional battlefield.
Her antennae tilted towards the pieces.
The S’vec Gambit.
Thava slowed, then stopped a short distance from the table. The officer pacing around it seemed deep enough in thought that a boarding party might have needed to make an appointment, but the configuration held her attention. She knew the problem. More importantly, she knew why most attempts to break it failed.
She watched him consider the board for another moment before speaking.
“You are giving S’vec too much respect.”
Her gaze stayed on the pieces rather than the stranger beside them.
“The trap only works if you keep trying to save everything.”
It should be hard to sneak up on a Betazoid without them noticing, and though she probably hadn't tried to be stealthy, Tav jumped slightly at the voice. Large, dark eyes turned away from the board, and he recovered quickly enough. In moments he had a smile on.
"You know this? Hi!" He made a gesture with both hands, inviting her over, welcoming in body language and tone. "Please. Please. I've been trying to figure this one out for years." Plus people were an even better distraction to make him stop churning over the past in his mind. Except...what she said... "Don't save everyone?" The smile slid right off his face, leaving him with an almost ill expression. She's said 'everything', not 'everyone', there was a distinct difference.
Thava’s antennae tipped forward at the sudden change in his expression. She noticed the altered word, but did not press it.
“Everything,” she said, her attention returning to the board. “The pieces.”
At his invitation, she stepped closer and set her tea beside the table.
“The gambit wants you to defend the whole position. That is the trap. One of those pieces is already lost, whether it is still standing or not. Keep trying to save it and S’vec takes the rest.”
She studied the configuration for another moment, resisting the temptation to reach in and move something herself.
“I’m Thava.”
"Tavian," he said, more subdued, and paused a moment to sip his drink, eyes returning to the board. What she suggested didn't set well with him. His instinct was to press the attack, but no matter what aggressive moves he'd ever tried in the past, as he'd said he'd never managed to defeat this array. It was so antithetical to how he played the game, and he still couldn't see his way through the following moves after.
"Would you mind?" he gestured at the board again and sat down at the table on one side. His impulse was to use his queen piece to cause a large threat to the center of the opponent's side while capturing a mid-strength piece of theirs. Tav's hand hovered over the board a moment, indecisive. Then he tapped the squares to cause the holographic piece to retreat down to a different level where it would be safe for now, but left some of his other pieces exposed as an intentional sacrifice.
Thava hesitated, not because she lacked an answer, but because there was little satisfaction in solving another person’s board for them.
She drew out the chair opposite and sat.
“We can work through it.”
Her eyes tracked the queen’s retreat, then the pieces Tav had left exposed. One antenna tipped forward.
“That was the right instinct,” she said. “You stopped protecting the obvious piece and changed what the position is asking of you.”
She reached towards the controls and advanced one of the exposed pieces rather than withdrawing it. The move looked reckless at first, but the board shifted around it. S’vec’s strongest reply now opened a line across the middle tier and forced two supporting pieces out of position.
Thava left her hand near the controls but did not make another move.
“If they take it, they weaken the centre. If they do not, it blocks their next sequence.”
Her gaze moved to Tav.
“Your turn. What do you see?”
The Betazoid glanced up, more at ease now than before, enough that he smiled again, "That you're really good at this, Thava." He meant the compliment genuinely. Even if he still felt odd about this play, he want to make sure she had his gratitude, especially for not just correcting and showing him. "I'm better at kal'toh, maybe just an average chess player but I'm trying to get in some practice."
Tav studied the board further, and said, "As for what I see... If I continue the evasive, maybe sacrifice another piece or two if I have to, the whole Gambit will start to collapse. In five, six turns, maybe, the core is exposed and maybe even flanked on one level. I probably should have retreated up and not down to try for that. But that's why they call it a 'gambit' in the first place, isn't it?" He moved another piece, just like he was describing, continuing to play on the retreat.
Thava’s antennae lifted slightly at the compliment.
“I like puzzles that resist being solved,” she said. “And tactical officers spend a great deal of time learning which losses prevent worse ones.”
Her attention returned to the board as Tav made his move. This time the shift in the configuration was clearer. The centre was beginning to loosen, the layers no longer supporting one another quite so neatly.
“That works,” she said, leaning forward a little. “Moving up would have given you the cleaner flank, but this keeps your queen in play long enough to force the exchange. The gambit is starting to react to you now.”
A faint smile touched her mouth.
“Kal’toh, though? I never developed the patience for a game that looks as though it is constructing itself out of spite.”
She glanced across the board at him.
“What made you choose this one tonight?”
He noted the movement of antennae, and the little smile, decided he liked her. Subtle reactions, but meaningful for all of that. It was honest, she wasn't trying to hide, and Betazoids appreciated honesty. "Tactical officer. That makes sense." He'd obviously been trying to figure her out a bit.
"I think it's the aesthetic aspect that draws me in," he said of the Vulcan geometric game. "Order in logic, beauty in logic." Again he shifted a piece, drawing his defenses tighter. Three moves, and Tav could start to see it again, those multiple moves ahead one tried to think in when playing this game. Or kal'toh for that matter.
"So much has happened in the last 3 days since I came on board," Tav admitted. "I've hardly had a chance to slow down. Met so many interesting people. Gotten to fly the greatest ship of my life. Heard so many minds." He sat back and shrugged, "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy. Games like this are a good way to clear my own mind. How about you? Why do you play?"
Thava considered the question for all of half a second.
“To win.”
There was no boast in it, only the blunt certainty of an Andorian stating the obvious. Her antennae angled towards the board as Tav’s defence tightened.
“But winning is more satisfying when the challenge deserves it. A weak opponent teaches you very little. A strong one shows you where your instincts fail.”
She moved one of her own pieces, not to threaten him directly, but to close off the easiest answer and make him look elsewhere.
“And the board is honest. Every move has a consequence, whether you intended it or not. People are rarely that considerate.”
Her eyes lifted to his, a trace of dry humour still there.
“You said you have been flying the greatest ship of your life. What were you flying before this?”
"I like that," Tav said with a laugh as he took his time now analyzing the board. The Gambit was slowly falling apart, his own position was growing secure. Not safe, but this was the best spot he'd ever been in when dealing with this arrangement. Tav suspected if this were a fresh game, if Thava were playing her own pieces, he would be in for a wild thrashing.
"I like to win too. Maybe too much, I bet my former CO's would say. And honesty is a defining feature of my culture. Sometimes too much so as well."
He moved another piece and nodded, seeing how S'vec's Gambit was a powerful array but only if he played into it. What Thava had suggested made sense, even if it wasn't how he normally thought.
There was hesitation to his answer about the question of what he'd been flying before, and he'd already moved the piece so he couldn't really act like that was cover for it. And just after he'd spoken abuot honesty too...
"I was on the Meridian," he said as casually as he could. He also talked a little faster, to try to steer the conversation around it. "Excelsior-II-class. Gorgeous cruisers, Excelsiors, don't you think? How about yourself? Been with the Resolute long?"
Thava’s antennae lowered slightly. She knew the name.
“The Meridian was a fine ship,” she said, her voice quieter than before. “I’m sorry.”
She left it there. No questions about the loss, no attempt to pull more from him than he had offered.
“And yes, Excelsiors are beautiful ships. Built with the confidence of something that expects to outlive everyone arguing about its replacement.”
A small hint of amusement returned as she looked back to the board.
“I’ve been aboard the Resolute about five years. Long enough that she stopped feeling like an assignment.”
Her eyes returned to the board.
“I know the ship well. Most days, anyway.”
The kindness struck like a knife sliding between Tav's ribs, right through every defense he thought he'd setup between himself and what had happened. Pain, white hot, fierce, flared up, and he didn't know what to say. Couldn't say anything.
Blindly he reached out, made the completely wrong move on the chess board, trying to hold back the immediate, angry response that rose up in him. Tav was a nice guy. He was trying to be at least. No more bouncing around from ship to ship, no more reprimands, no more demerits, no more pissing off his shipmates or his CO.
It took everything he had not to snap at someone who didn't deserve it, who had only been kind and he knew he would like a lot if he kept his mouth shut. The thing with him was, you didn't need to be an empath to know Tav's emotions, they were writ plainly right on his face and in his eyes. He was angry because he was panicking, panicking because some part of him was still back there on the Meridian. Survivor's guilt. PTSD. Whatever.
One breath. Another. A third. Fourth.
"I'd like to make Resolute my home too," he managed to say at last through gritted teeth, and spilled his drink as he went to reach for it. The chess table shorted out, holographic pieces flickered, wavered, then vanished as the sugary liquid worked its way into the electronics. "Dammit!"
Thava saw the change in him long before the drink went over. It was there in the set of his jaw, the wrong move, the way his hand had stopped belonging to the rest of him.
She did not ask.
When the holographic board flickered out, she looked down at the darkened table, then raised a hand towards one of the lounge attendants.
“S’vec’s final move,” she said dryly. “Destroy the battlefield.”
She reached for the nearest napkins before the spill could spread farther, pushing a few across to Tav without crowding him.
“Efficient,” she added, her antennae tipping towards the ruined display. “A little dramatic.”
Then, quieter, as the attendant approached with cleaning supplies, she said, “The table can be repaired.”
Her eyes met his briefly.
“So can most things.”
He took the napkins, began to wipe up his mess, at first quiet, writhing internally with embarressment and lingering anger. Then he glanced up, met her eyes, didn't see or sense any judgement. Grateful, he lowered his gaze once more as he took hold of himself. The breathing worked this time, the panic passed.
Tav deflated some, nodded. Maybe, maybe things could be fixed, and he knew the Meridian wasn't his fault, but he was so deep into overanalyzing ever single move he could have taken differently that it made chess look simple. A second or two after that he managed a wry grin, "Not how I usually sabotage when playing a match I'm going to lose. But I guess it worked. I'll see about fixing this."
He glanced up and offered, a hopeful tone in his voice, "That is, if you'd like to play a real match sometime? Not just taking over a board already in progress, I mean. I can't promise I won't throw more drinks. But it'd be nice to have someone to play against though who isn't going to just let me win."
Thava’s antennae eased as the last of the tension left him. The smile that followed was small, but real.
“I’d like that,” she said. “And no, I will not let you win.”
She entered the maintenance request into the table, then looked back at him.
“Though next time, Gambit, keep the drink somewhere less strategically important.”
The name sat there between them, deliberate now, not an accident.
Her mouth curved a little further.
“I would prefer to defeat you without the board surrendering first.”
A Joint Post By
Lieutenant JG Thava zh'Reth
Security/Tactical Officer
USS Resolute
Lieutenant JG Tavian Rhos
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Resolute
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