Blood and Spite on the Ice - Federation Champion League - Hockey Semi-Final [Shoreleave]
Posted on 07 Aug 2026 @ 10:51pm by Lieutenant Commander Leland Hawksley & Lieutenant JG Todd Hewitt
2,318 words; about a 12 minute read
Mission:
General Sim Postings
Location: USS Tomcat, Holodeck 02
Timeline: Shoreleave
[ON]
The holodeck links snapped into place across 10 ships at once… The ice formed under the lights… Cold… Hard… Real enough to hurt…
Blue and white for the Federation Patriots… Red and white for the Federation Marauders… Semi-final of the Federation Championship League of Hockey… Winner earns the right to face the Wolverines in the final… Everything else ends here…
Leland Hawksley stood in the Patriots crease and rolled his neck until it cracked… Chief Engineer of the USS Tomcat… He felt every old bruise from the last practice already waking up… He looked left… Todd Hewitt waited there… Same ship… Same engineering… Same quiet understanding that never needed many words…
“You feel that…” Leland muttered…
Todd gave a short nod… “Ice is mean tonight… Good… Means somebody’s going home bleeding…”
Vilvek tapped his stick once against the boards… The Vulcan’s face stayed blank but his eyes tracked every Marauder already lining up… Navi Holsum rolled his shoulders and spat on the ice…
Across the center line the Marauders stared back… Frank Wright… Killian Saunders… Kel’VroK Ja’TraK already baring his teeth like he wanted to take a piece home… Peter Milora stood calm as a surgeon before the cut… Their goalie shifted from post to post… Everyone already hated everyone else… Perfect…
The announcer’s voice rolled through the arena…
“Ladies and gentlemen… Federation Championship League of Hockey semi-final… Patriots versus Marauders… Faceoff at center ice…”
The puck dropped…
"This is for Cass," Hawksley grunted under his breath.
Leland won it clean and fed Todd on the first stride… They moved together like they always did in the engine room when something was about to blow… Todd carried wide… Leland cut through the middle… Wright stepped up hard… The hit drove Leland into the boards with a sound like metal striking metal…
Pain shot through his ribs… He tasted copper… He shoved back anyway… and kept the puck moving…
“That all you got, Wright…” Leland growled… “My reactor core hits harder than you… Come on… put some weight behind it…”
Wright leaned in close enough that Leland could smell the spit… “Keep talking, engineer… I’ll break that stick over your spine and use the pieces to clean my skates…”
Todd came flying in and finished the check… Both men went down in a tangle of limbs and sticks… The whistle stayed silent… The play kept moving… Saunders arrived late and drove an elbow into Leland’s back while he was still climbing up…
Leland spun and shoved him hard enough to send the defenseman sliding…
“You late for everything, Saunders… Including being a real man…”
Saunders grinned through the sweat… “I’ll be early for your funeral, Hawksley… Keep skating… I like the sound your bones make…”
First period stayed scoreless for long stretches of pure nastiness… Every shift became a board war… Navi took a high stick across the cheek and answered by driving Kel’VroK into the glass so hard the Klingon’s helmet twisted… Vilvek played silent and brutal… every stick lift timed to the second… every hip check designed to separate man from puck and dignity…
Leland and Todd kept finding each other through the chaos… A pass here… A kick of the puck there… Always talking…
“You see that soft turn Wright just made…” Todd said between shifts… “Looks like his ankles are made of wet cardboard…”
Leland nodded… “He’s soft… Whole red side is soft… We keep hitting until something cracks…”
The Marauders found a seam late in the period… Kel’VroK took a long pass from Saunders and drove the net… He deked once…
The Patriots goalie Elias Thorne got a piece of it but the rebound sat… Peter Milora was already there… Quick snap… Goal…
“Goal Marauders… Number twenty-one, Peter Milora… Assisted by number twelve, Kel’VroK Ja’TraK…”
Leland skated past the crease and looked the Betazoid dead in the eye…
“Enjoy that soft one, doctor… Next time I put you through the glass so hard your empathic gifts will be the only thing left
working…”
Milora only smiled… “I can feel how angry you are already… Good… Makes the next hit sweeter… You’re carrying fear under all that noise… I can taste it…”
Todd answered for both of them… voice low and mean…
“You feel too much, telepath… Try feeling this next shift… I’m going to put you on your back and make you ask the ice for mercy…”
Todd drove the next shift with pure spite… He won a board battle against Wright by driving a forearm under the chin and spinning out with the puck… Leland was already cutting to the net… Todd hit him with a saucer pass that landed perfect…
Leland one-timed it… The goalie kicked it wide… The rebound came straight back to Todd… He buried it bar down before anyone could react…
“Goal Patriots… Number twenty-four, Todd Hewitt… Assisted by number seventeen, Leland Hawksley…”
Todd skated the length of the ice with one glove raised and pointed straight at the Marauders bench…
“That’s one… More coming… Better start praying to whatever gods still listen to soft red boys…”
Wright barked back… “Keep skating, El-Aurian… I’ll take your teeth home in my glove…”
Todd laughed out loud… “You couldn’t take a soft serve from a child… Sit down…”
The period ended 1-1… Both benches stayed loud… No one sat quiet… Leland sat with his head down… breathing hard… ribs already singing… He looked at Todd…
“We stay vicious… No clean hockey left in this game… Only blood…”
Todd nodded once… “Already there…”
Second period opened uglier… Saunders caught Leland with a late hit after the whistle… full shoulder into the numbers while Leland’s back was turned… Leland stayed down a second longer than he wanted… Ribs screamed… Something clicked wrong in his side… He climbed back up slow and stared Saunders down…
“You want a piece of me that bad… come get it… Don’t hide behind the whistle like a coward…”
Saunders grinned… “Gladly… Drop them…”
They dropped gloves for three hard punches before the linesmen pulled them apart… Leland’s right hand came away bloody… Saunders left a cut under Leland’s eye… Both men took seats… The game stayed five on five by the grace of the holodeck protocols… but the tone was set… This was no longer sport… This was survival with sticks…
Leland came out of the box hungry… Todd was waiting… They worked the cycle low in the Marauders end like they owned the paint… Vilvek pinched from the point and nearly took Wright’s head off with a hip… Navi kept the blue line sealed and blocked a slap shot with his chest… stayed upright through pure spite even though the air left him in a long hiss… Leland took another heavy board check from Wright and still managed to kick the puck free to Todd… Todd sent it right back through three pairs of skates… Leland stick-handled through two bodies… faked the slap so hard the goalie bit… then snapped a clean wrist shot five-hole… The lamp lit…
“Goal Patriots… Number seventeen, Leland Hawksley… Assisted by number twenty-four, Todd Hewitt…”
Leland skated past the Marauders bench and pointed at Wright…
“That’s for the ribs, Frank… Keep them coming… I got more goals than you got courage…”
Wright only cursed under his breath and slammed his stick against the boards… “You’re a dead man walking, Hawksley… Next shift I end you…”
Leland laughed… short and mean… “You’ve been saying that since the faceoff… Still talking… Still soft…”
The Marauders answered late in the period… Kel’VroK took a stretch pass and went in alone… He deked Thorne left then lifted it high over the glove… Goal… 2-2…
“Goal Marauders… Number twelve, Kel’VroK Ja’TraK… Unassisted…”
Kel’VroK roared and slammed his stick against the boards so hard it cracked…
“Federation dogs still bleed… Good… Come bleed more…”
Leland skated past him slow… close enough to speak without raising his voice…
“You roar loud for a man who just got lucky… Next shift I bury you so deep the Empire forgets your name…”
Kel’VroK’s eyes narrowed… “Try it, human… I will hang your helmet on my wall…”
Third period started like a street fight that somehow found ice…
Hits came early and often… Navi blocked another slap shot with the same bruised chest and stayed upright… though his legs wobbled for a full three strides… Vilvek took a high stick across the mouth that opened a cut on his lip… The Vulcan answered with a hip check that sent Milora spinning into his own bench hard enough that the doctor’s stick went flying… No apology…
No glance back…
Leland and Todd stayed glued to each other… Every breakout… Every cycle… Every board battle… They spoke in short bursts between shifts… voices low… eyes never leaving the red jerseys…
“You good…”
“Still breathing… Ribs hate me… Don’t care…”
“Then we finish this… No soft goals… No soft hits… We take it…”
“Together…”
With under six minutes left, the Marauders nearly took the lead again… Saunders walked a puck to the net and forced Thorne into a sprawling save… The rebound sat like a gift… Leland was the first man back… He cleared it the length of the ice with pure anger and then turned on Saunders…
“You almost had it… Almost… That’s the story of your whole career… almost…”
Saunders shoved him… Leland shoved harder… Both men stayed on their feet only because the whistle finally came…
They kept talking while the officials sorted the mess…
“You’re soft under all that talk, Saunders…”
“And you’re one bad shift from the infirmary, engineer…”
“Then hurry up and try…”
The faceoff sat in the Patriots end… Leland won it with a hard sweep… Todd took the pass and carried through the neutral zone like the ice itself was afraid of him…
They crossed the red line together… Wright stepped up to finish the check… Leland saw it coming and dropped his shoulder first… The impact drove Wright into the boards so hard the glass rattled and a spiderweb crack appeared for a full second before the holodeck healed it… The puck stayed with Leland…
He stick-handled through the last defender like the ice belonged to him alone… The goalie squared… Leland faked left so hard the netminder committed… Then snapped the wrist shot top shelf… Clean… Perfect… The lamp lit red and stayed lit…
“Goal Patriots… Number seventeen, Leland Hawksley…
"Unassisted… And that… is your game winner…”
The arena exploded… Leland dropped to one knee for half a second… Pain still burned through his ribs and shoulder, and the fresh bruise forming on his hip… He felt every single check of the night… Every elbow… Every late hit… Every ounce of spite the red side had thrown at him… He climbed back up anyway… breathing hard… smiling through the blood on his lip…
Todd hit him like a missile… Arms locked around his neck… Both of them laughing through the blood and the sweat and the pure vicious joy of it…
“Two goals, you stubborn bastard… Two… You beautiful mean son of a bitch…”
Leland gripped the back of Todd’s helmet and pulled him close enough that only one of them could hear…
“Couldn’t have done a damn thing without you… Best line mate in the whole damn fleet… Always was… Always will be…”
The rest of the Patriots piled on… Vilvek gave a single tight nod… lip still bleeding… eyes still calm… Navi whooped loud enough to echo and slammed both gloves against Leland’s back… Across the ice the Marauders stood quiet for a long moment…
Kel’VroK slammed his stick once against the boards and then offered a warrior’s nod that meant respect even if he would never say the word…
Wright stared at the scoreboard like it had personally insulted him… Saunders just spat on the ice and turned away…
"Final score… Patriots three… Marauders two… FCL Hockey returns this Saturday... Federation Patriots Vs. Federation Wolverines... Be there, ladies and gentlemen watching at home... Or, be squareeeee!!!!!!"
The holodeck lights softened… The ice began to fade under their skates… Leland and Todd stayed locked together a few seconds longer than anyone else… still talking… still breathing hard… still mean and happy and exhausted in the way only full-grown men who just fought for something real can be…
“Finals next…” Leland said… Voice rough… “Wolverines… They think they’re hard…”
Todd clapped him hard on the shoulder and kept the grin… the same grin he wore in the engine room when a system was about to fail, and they both already knew they would fix it anyway…
“We’ll take them too… Together… Same as always… And if they talk half as much as these red boys… we’ll make them eat every word…”
Leland nodded… The pain in his side was already settling into something he could carry… The blood on his lip tasted like victory… He looked around at the fading arena… at the men who had just tried to break him… at the friend who had just helped him break them instead…
“Vicious game…” he said quietly…
Todd answered just as quiet…
“Best kind…”
The link held until the last of the arena lights died… Then the programs ended, and the real ships waited again… engines humming… corridors quiet… and two engineers already thinking about the next fight waiting on the other side of the finals…
[OFF]
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