The dim light of the hall was pierced in steady repetition by suspended lights from above, each illuminating a single four-sided table. Upon each green felt tabletop was a scattering of white tiles, symbols of various types upon them all. Each side of the tables were occupied throughout the hall. Even spacing between each table existed for people to walk between, but only just as the organisers had sought to cram as many tables into the space as they possibly could.

Selu looked up from her own tiles, staring at the human opposite her. Studying his expression briefly before starting play. “An interesting pastime,” she said, drawing a tile, examining it and placing it amongst her own, selecting one in return to discard to the centre of the table. “I must thank you for introducing me to it.”

“So, this counts as relaxation for you?” Evan asked, waiting for the Tellarite on his right to go through the motions as well, before quickly repeating as well, though taking somewhat longer than Selu to decide which tile to discard. “Thought Orions preferred something more active.”

“Shut up,” the Andorian, opposite the Tellarite, grumbled. “I’m trying to play here.”

“Bite me, Gevic,” Evan warned. “You haven’t won a game all day. A little talking might improve your game.”

The Tellarite’s chuckle at the insult started somewhere near the floor for how deep it was.

“I’m not just an Orion,” Selu commented on her turn, again quickly picking and then discarding a tile. “I should mention this game to my father next opportunity. I am sure he would enjoy it.”

“He’s the Vulcan, right?” Evan asked.

“Wait, what?” Gevic asked. “No one said anything about playing with a Vulcan.”

“Half-Vulcan,” the Tellarite grumbled, a flick of his hand indicating Evan could now take his turn. “Don’t recall seeing a Vulcan with green skin. You do that logic worshipping stuff too?” His tone of voice said enough about what he thought of playing with Selu at the table – he wasn’t concerned at all.

“Practising the tenets of Logic,” Selu corrected flatly. “And to some degree.”

“Shame,” the Tellarite said with a shrug. “I knew a Vulcan once who-”

The crashing sound at one end of the hall carried over all the muttered conversations that had been producing a consistent background hum. Shouted exclamations that followed drew everyone’s attention in a wave across the room as a figure was running down one walkway between tables, pushing people out of their way.

“Get out of my way!” the man shouted, his dark duster flapping behind him as he ran, dodging around one person, shoving another into a table and sending tiles and patrons alike scattering. Behind him a wake of chaos as patrons tried to help and others stood to get a better idea of what was happening.

Then the door he’d emerged through crashed open a second time. This time the figure that stepped through was immediately recognisable to Evan and Selu. Sidda stood there, smiling as she swept the room, found her prey and set off in pursuit. With the chaos of the first man’s passage, she was forced to dance through the crowd and debris.

And then a third individual stepped through the door. Dressed almost the same as the first, just tidier and looking significantly less ragged. And unlike the first two people through the door, he wasn’t running, but walking before he stopped, offering a hand to help the first person he came across back to their feet.

“What the hell?” Evan asked as he saw the man running towards them. “Oh no,” he then complained as he saw Sidda bounding up onto a table and causing pure mayhem as she jumped from one table to another in pursuit, sending up an even bigger wake of chaos behind her.

As the first man sped past, Evan pulled at Gevic’s arm, with no protest, pulling the Andorian close to the table and out of the way, letting the man pass with little resistance. And then he watched with horror as Sidda neared, dreading her landing on their table and disrupting their game. But something a few tables before them caused her to jump back to the floor.

“Oh, hey guys!” Sidda shouted as she spotted Evan and Selu, pulling up short by them for a moment. “Mahjong, huh? Neat. Oh, Selu, hold this for me.” Sidda quickly removed the hat on her head, popping it on Selu’s head at a slight angle. A moment of study, a wink, and then she was off. “Come back here, Manfred!” she shouted, once more in pursuit.

“What the fuck?” Evan asked, confused at just what was happening around them.

“Should we follow?” Selu asked.

“And forfeit?” Evan asked. “Hell no. She’s in some sort of trouble; she can get herself out of it.”

Before Selu could raise a counterargument, the second man approached, a wave of apologies issuing forth as he went. He was the spitting image of the first, just far better put together. Calm, sedate, well groomed. “I wouldn’t think Mrs Sadovu will be needing any of our assistance,” the man said with a well-worn drawl as he stepped up beside their table, admiring Selu for a moment. “The hat suits you, ma’am.”

“Manfred,” Selu stated.

“The one and the same,” Manfred replied, offering a slight bow. “And not the same,” he continued. “I wouldn’t bother with pursuing your commander. Or myself, to be fair.”

“Is that a warning?” Selu asked.

“Word of advice,” Manfred answered. “Attempting to arrest me, ma’am, would be a waste of your holiday and tiring on my resources and patience before I would find myself released.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Evan demanded.

“Mrs Sadovu-th’Ven wished for her wife to have a relaxing holiday. I am providing such.” Manfred studied the room, the chaos behind him clearing, the chaos ahead just starting to recover from two runaway shuttles barging through and out the other end of the hall. “I feel I should apologise to everyone here for this unfortunate and unforeseen interruption.”

“How?” the Tellarite at the table asked, though the tone made it far more of a demand.

“Allow me, good sir, to speak with the purveyors of this fine establishment and buy a round of drinks for everyone present.” This Manfred then offered another small bow, then turned, heading at a tangent to the chaos to find the hall organisers.

“Can we get back to it then?” the Tellarite asked after a moment, ready to ignore all the other chaos of the room and just focus on the game at hand.

“You know what? Yes. Yes, we can,” Evan declared. “Not my monkeys, not my circus. I don’t care to know, I don’t want to know.”

“A better position to take regarding the commander than you’ve been taking,” Selu commented, examining the table and then looking to Gevic. “I believe it is your turn.”

“Uh, yes. My turn,” the Andorian man said, tugging at his shirt then briefly fidgeting with his tiles. “You guys know Manfred? The Manfred?”

“Know of him,” Evan answered. “Now shut up, Gevic, and play.” Then he looked up to Selu. “Seriously, her idea of relaxing is chasing what, a hologram of Manfred? And Revin set it all up for her?”

“That wasn’t a hologram,” Selu answered. “But the resemblance was remarkable.”

“No,” Evan stated as he shook his head. “No, no, no. Not talking about it. I’m here to relax, I’m here to play mahjong and I’m here to win this tournament.”

“Then shut up and play,” the Tellarite declared as he threw a tile into the middle. “Because talking isn’t playing, you daft human twit.”