A Dangerous Duo Dueling at Darts (Backpost)

Posted on Wed Jul 29th, 2026 @ 12:00am by Lieutenant Commander David Erickson & Ensign Blaine McCray

1,167 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: ARYL 1X04: All the Friends We Can Get
Location: Rec Room
Timeline: Shortly before Kannok

David stood in one of the rec rooms, a set of darts in his hand. It was between shifts and the room was rather quiet as half the ship was just getting off shift and the other half was just starting. He eyed the board carefully and let a dart fly, giving a satisfied, "hah!" as it hit the board.

“Very nice shot!” Blaine said before taking a sip of his Vulcan Brandy before stepping up to the line, gripping his dart, aiming and threw, watching as the dart struck the board. He was glad he had learned to play from his grandfather. “Thanks for the invitation, sir. I really appreciate it.”

"It'll be your last one if you 'sir' me in here again," David said, giving him a pointed look. "Save that for the bridge. And even then..." he shrugged and stepped back up to the line, eyeing his next move. "Off duty, I'm just another crewmember." He aimed and threw, the dart going a bit high, but striking just within the outer green ring by the seven. "We all are," he said, looking at Blaine. "Don't forget that. Respect the rank, don't grovel to it. Whether it's me, the CMO, or even the First Officer, herself, when we're off duty, we're just neighbors, and should be treated as such. Get to know us, not our ranks."

“Close knit crew then?” Blaine asked, seeing the look he was getting and making a point to remember the advice. “I’m guessin’ that doesn’t go for the Captain though. At least from what I learned at the Academy.

"Oh, no, always address the Captain as "Ma'am" or "Your Excellency," only," David said, gravely. "Anybody else, though, my advice stands."

Blaine nodded, taking that in as he watched the board, his eyebrow raising as he aimed and threw, hitting the inner red ten. “Thank you for the advice. I appreciate it greatly."

"Oh, any time," David said, grinning. "Always happy a new addition to the team." He stepped up and aimed a bit more carefully this time and gave another throw. His dart sailed and hit the inner green ring on nineteen. He grinned wider. "Of course, we always need to keep you humble for a bit with a lucky shot or two," he joked.

"Well, there's an old song, back in Texas, that says, 'It's hard to be humble when you're perfect in every way," he chuckled as he lined up and threw his dart, hitting the triple twenty. "Though I'd much rather be humble than perfect."

"Well you're well on your way, Mary Poppins," David said, stepping back up. He relaxed his shoulders and aimed swiftly, letting his final dart fly and land on the bullseye. It wasn't a triple twenty, but it was where he wanted it to land. He gave Blaine a friendly tap on his non-throwing arm and sat back down. "Hand-eye coordination is our stock and trade," he said to the helmsman with a grin. "Good to see yours is top notch."

He sat down at a nearby table and grabbed his drink, taking a sip. "At some point, we should do a proper game, now that I know we're evenly matched. The crew would probably get a kick out of it. Good chance to bet a few credits." He got a mischievous glint in his eye. "In the meantime, tell me about you. Texas, hm?"

"I'm always down for a game. We had a dart board in my granddad's den at the ranch, an' it gave me somethin' I could beat my fully Vulcan cousins at when I visited every year." Blaine chuckled. "Even translated to survival skills when I went through the Forge on my Kahs-wan ritual." Blaine smiled as he picked up his drink and sat down, taking a sip. "Born on the USS Crockett, the old Pioneer-Class ship. Dad was a junior helm officer and my mother was a xenobiologist. They took me back to Texas while on leave an' I stayed with my dad's parents. Of course, I visited my Vulcan family over winter breaks in school. So I learned about my mother's folk. Even speak Vulcan, though I can't excise my Texas accent, so it sounds strange. The Crockett was destroyed in 2373 while surveyin' a planet near the Klingon border. Fleet still won't tell me what fully happened." Blaine sighed and took another sip of his drink, as if cleansing a memory from his mind. "Anyway, I grew up on my dad's folks ranch until I went to the Academy. It's not a huge ranch by Texas standards, but it's beautiful country along a river." He thought a moment and shook his head. "Sorry if that's a bit too much of an information dump."

"Quite all right," David said without his usual flippant tone. "And my condolences for your loss. No one should have to go through that." He paused a moment before moving on to the next, logical question. "Did you join Starfleet to honor them? Or was that something independent you'd always wanted to do anyway?"

"It's a bit complicated. I really wasn't accepted on Vulcan, beyond my grandparents, uncle and cousins. So, between that and the family legacy of Starfleet service, it just felt right," Blaine replied. "Not sure my human grandparents really understood, though my granddad did his time in the 'fleet. Most of the male member of my human family have, but my dad was the first since the 2160s to die in service."

"Well then, statistically speaking, you're good for at least another century," David said, raising his glass. He took a longer sip. "I'll be honest, as many times as I've visited Vulcan, I've never really cared for it." He pointed at Blaine. "That's not to be repeated in front of the Captain, mind you." He took another sip. "Then again, my run-ins with Vulcans haven't all been positive."

“What’s said here stays here, you have my word on that,” Blaine said, looking the other man in the eye. “And I’m sorry that your dealings with Vulcans haven’t been positive. The culture is beautiful if we’d actually learn to live by IDIC.”

The culture would be beautiful if so many of them weren't arrogant pricks, David thought. "Perhaps," he said, diplomatically. "And we humans certainly are far from perfect." He smirked. "My father used to joke that humans had specifically invented things like bagpipes or yodeling because they knew that someday they would encounter a species that they would need to annoy enough to keep away."

He eyed the other end of the room and grinned. "So, with such superior hand-eye coordination, how're you with a pool cue?"

“I’m no hustler, but I know which end to put chalk on,” Blaine said, chuckling. He finished his drink and stood. “Shall we?”

David didn't believe him, but he'd watch him play and see. "Let's," he said, standing up and heading for the table.

 

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