Just like that, the day of the big game had arrived.

VFM Had been reset–and, after a small vacation, the Morro Bay will be stopping back at Starfleet HQ to have it re-evaluated. For the time being, it was a relaxation period for the team; especially with the past few weeks. An anti-serum had been created and things were relatively back to normal.

By now, the teams we’re starting to trickle in locker rooms as a shockingly large crowd sat in the stands–a starfleet sports event was awfully intriguing, it seemed. Not everyone was there yet, however.

“M’Hark!” Sylvester called, jogging up next to the Ensign. Runt flashed a smile at the XO, offering a water bottle.

“Commander! It feels great to be back home–my family is in the crowd today, believe it or not.” There was truth to the Ensign’s words, considering he looked much more relaxed than he’s been since he arrived on the Morro Bay. “Are you ready for the game?”

“I am.” He took the water bottle, taking a swig of it before looking back at Runt. “But I’m going to be leaving shortly after for a few days.”

“Sir?”

“Captain Dowe and I have been invited to join the rest of Task Force 21’s commanding officers for a vacation. Amira will be taking control of the ship in our absence.” Sylvester let out a happy sigh, smiling down at Runt. “A vacation, finally!”

“I think we all need it. Is that why the Morro Bay has been stationed in Cait for a few extra days?” M’Hark waved hello to someone he knew as they walked. “Not that I’m complaining–I’ve missed my family’s cooking.”

“Haha, yes, it is.” Sylvester looked up at the distant sport stadium in awe; the looming and very nosiy building proving a sight to see indeed. “But I’m focused on this game more than anything. What did your team come up with again name wise?”

“Team Nacelles.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s…something.”

“HA! We’re Team Shellshockers, so someones clearly got it bad.” The Kzin gave a teasing glance at Runt, before looking away a moment after. A long silence followed as they walked. “Listen, M’Hark-”

“We don’t need to address anything again, Commander.” Runt shrugged. “It’s over with–we were just being influenced.”

“I know, but it wasn’t fully conforming or forcing us to do anything. The serum was just. . .magnifying our emotions.” Sylvester cleared his throat. “Just note I don’t think of what I said about you.”

“Awh, Commander…” He gave a small smile to Sylvester. “Me as well. But don’t think I’ll go easy on you in there.”

“Psshhh, okay, buddy. I’ll happily show you why I got my rank in that arena!” He gave Runt a playful shove.

–

The locker room wasn’t exactly an easy place to be before the game—especially for someone who could tend to be a little anxious; like M’Hark. Almost like something in a movie, he and Sylvester were both the Jammers of the team–Runt for his size and dexterity, and Sylvester for his strength. The two would have to go against one another and get through the first jam. As the rest of the team geared up, the Caitian was finding himself sitting on a bench near the back, going through every worst case scenario in the books. Breaking a leg, being a failure, making Mikhailov angry again. . .

“M’Hark! We’re about to go stretch!” Jetta called. “You joining us?”

“I’ll be there in a minute, Captain!” He called back, giving an uneasy smile. Runt kept his nickname for his Roller Derby nickname; Jetta nicknaming herself ‘Jettasetter’. It was a nice name–but even then, that couldn’t help calm the anxieties. Why be so anxious now? Why was the cat so upset n-

“Hrelle.” Amira called, leaning on the doorframe. The cat jumped forward and turned around, keeping the uneasy smile on his face and posture straight.

“Commander! Hello!”

“I thought you’d be anxious–and I was right.” She chuckled “So I wanted to bring someone over. Seems like he brought a friend or two, though.”

“He?”

A Caitian with sand colored fur entered. His eyelids lowered into a slow blink over multi-hued irises; one crystal blue, the other violet-red. “Heya Runt! Hi everyone”, M’Row said excitedly. “How are you doing? Are you ready for the big game?”

“M’ROW?!” Runt nearly choked on his own spit as he stood up. “You’re–here?! Uhm…wow, okay. Uh…” The cat fiddled with his gear for a second, standing upright. “Is it that obvious I’m a bit of a wreck?”

“I went up to them and told M’Row, and he wasn’t shocked in the slightest.” Amira snickered. “I thought you could use some encouragement.”

“I’m so excited to be back on Cait. Say, meet my friends.” M’Row gestured to the two women standing alongside him. “This is Lieutenant Commander Moon Ji-hee and Lieutenant Junior Grade Cris Ruiz.”

“You can call me Ji-hee for this trip”, said the Cardinal’s chief engineer. She wore baggy black pants with cuffs that rose above high-top yellow sneakers. A matching pattern struck lemon streaks across a shawl. Underneath it was a spaghetti-strap top that revealed her shoulders. “We’re on vacation.”

Ji-hee looked at Runt. “Best of luck on the field out there.”

“That makes me Cris”, said the chief helmswoman. “I watched a few derby clips earlier, on the ferry. I can’t wait to see it live. How are you feeling?” Crismarlyn wore a denim skirt just above her knees and a fuchsia blouse with short sleeves that revealed her tan, toned arms.

“Woah…” Runt looked at her. “I love your blouse. It’s a really pretty color. Oh! Right, I uhm…” Runt adjusted his uniform. “I’m a split hair away from a nervous breakdown. Ha! Haha! I am not a performer, nooooo sir I am not.” The cat instantly started to pace, as the pre-games roared on outside.

“Thanks”, Crismarlyn replied and looked downwards as if double-checking. Her expression warmed as she took a step closer to form a circle. “Don’t worry. It’s just a game. I bet you’ll do well.”

“Think of it like a hunt”, M’Row added. “Every prowl isn’t successful. But you always establish your territory. You get the lay of the land for the next hunt. Then when the time is right, you strike.” The ops officer clasped his fuzzy hands together. Long nails extended on the word ‘strike’.

“Have you played many games before?” Lieutenant Moon twisted her head as she studied the athletes in the room as she spoke. Her eyes snapped back to Hrelle.

”I’ve played a lot before, it’s not that.” Runt muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. “This is just. . .new. Intense? I actually have no idea why I’m worked up like this. There isn’t any need for me to be. The game starts in ten minutes either way.”

“You can back out if you want.” Amira spoke as she leaned against the wall. “We can get someone else to play the Jammer.”

“But nobody else besides Commander Mikhailov and I have played as Jammers, and he’s on the opposite team.” M’Hark grumbled.

“Backing out is clearly not an option”, M’Row replied coolly. “You say you have experience in the position. Just focus on what you need to get done when the match starts.” He placed a reassuring hand on Hrelle’s shoulder.

“You should try a four-seven-eight breathing technique”, Ji-hee chimed in as she looked deep into the Caitian’s eye. “Breathe in for four seconds, hold your breath for seven and then exhale for eight seconds. It’s a technique to slow your breathing. It should help you stabilize your thoughts and focus too. Try it a few times.”

Runt gave an uneasy smile up at the group, taking a few of the breathing tips Ji-hee gave. It didn’t take long for the cat to be visibly more calm–still a nervous wreck nonetheless. His mind wandered more and more to the negatives of what could happen. But every time, he simply breathed; and all was well. Before anything else could be said, Captain Dowe and the rest of Runt’s team came walking out.

“Ah, Lieutenant M’Row, Commander Moon. It’s lovely to see you all again.” Jetta smiled, skating over to M’Hark. “You ready for one of the best god damn derby matches of your life?”

Runt glanced back at M’Row, smiled, and turned back. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”