Star Wars OPEN Elite League Limmie

IC: Jayla Leed
Ryloth

Once again, Jayla found herself riding the bench during an Elite League game. For the second time that season, she wasn’t going to get to take the field to start off. Instead, she was stuck back here on the bench, stewing over what might have been. The week before, she had been shredded by the Onderon Crazy Dragons, giving up 8 points in only seven minutes of netminding action. That was a brutal ELL debut game, and now she wondered if Coach Korthe would even let her off the bench this time around. Her practices had been OK, but nothing spectacular. But Kapp Pyston, the pretty-boy, had done really well that week, and now Jayla was sinking further into the hole she had dug for herself. And she had heard way too much of that annoying “Nyan Cat” song that she wanted to punch something. It’s sickly strains kept reverberating in her mind, bouncing around like a ball hitting four tightly-placed walls.

The game started out hotly-contested. The Thyferra offense, looking to make up for the Week 1 disaster, was finally putting a few points up on the board. Riff Persnor, the All-Star, scored the team’s first goal a few minutes in, burning fellow All-Star and teammate Zeke Barbosa. Jayla smirked when she saw this; so that was the guy her sister was supposedly dating. He didn’t look too tough . . . OK, except for that scar . . . and the fact that he was muscular . . . and . . . well, maybe Jenna saw something Jayla didn’t . . . maybe he was rather strong . . . Jayla had to snap herself out of this train of thought after Ryloth had scored to cut the Force lead to 7-5 with fifteen minutes left in the half.

“Wonder if we’ll see Qorbus much,” Tonga Rute, the reserve midfielder, commented as he and the other draft picks sat on the Force bench. Sarya Dilvam, Rute’s running mate on the second-string midfield, and Reena Wyley. “I mean, he got benched before the season, so he might not play a lot.”

“Ryloth is desperate to get to 2-0,” Reena commented. “They’ll play him no matter what, because he is pretty good. We saw that first hand last season.”

Meanwhile, the Force offense scored again. Persnor had beaten Barbosa again with a scorching shot, pushing the lead to 10-5 Force.

“Nice shot,” Sarya commented. “Goalie had no chance on that one. Shows you why that guy was an All-Star.”

With eight minutes left to go in the half, Jayla was taking a drink of Gundarkade on the sideline. 10-5 Force, and although the offense wasn’t looking stellar, the defense was holding tough. One of the Ryloth forwards shot forward, dodging Jerek Deter. Deter’s cleat got stuck in the turf, and he went down awkwardly, clutching his leg. That sent a shockwave through the bench, but that was soon to be supplanted by something far, far worse. Deter was down, which meant that someone else would have to come in and take over for him. The forward crashed into the zone, and dodging the tackle attempt by Looke, was in sight of the goal. Pyston readied himself, smacking his gloves together as he always did. It was his tradition, to try and loosen up his joints and ready his fingers to spread out as wide as they could to raise his chances of stopping the ball. When the ball came out, Pyston knew what to do. He jumped into the air and touched the ball cleanly. However, another Ryloth forward, who had been slashing across the zone on a slant pattern, smashed right into Kapp’s torso, making him flip awkwardly in the air. Looke, who had been pushed back on the bull-rush, also whacked into Kapp as the goalie landed. The ball hit the goalpost and careened off. Shayt Contar, who was playing across from Deter, picked the ball up and heaved it up the field to clear it. Looke got up, but Kapp didn’t. He began to yell out in pain, and not the kind of pain that you got from getting a bruise on your body. No, he was in agony; his body looked a tiny bit out of position as he lay almost motionless on the field.

The referees called a medical timeout as fast as they could, and play stopped. All eyes turned to the Thyferra goalie as he writhed around in pain. Finally, the trainers took a good, hard look at him. Several minutes passed, long after Jerek had been helped off the field with his injury. After about ten minutes, Kapp was lifted onto a stretcher, and taken off the field by a cart. Coach Korthe looked back at her bench. “Leed!” she shouted. “You’re in!” Jayla stood, not really sure of what to make of this situation. She had gotten her wish; Kapp was out of the game, and now she was going to get her playing time. But as she stepped onto the field, she all of sudden felt a nervous twinge in her mind. After that disastrous debut, how could she hope to do better this time around? All eyes in the stadium seemed to be boring into the back of her skull, and she nervously took her place in goal.

“Hey, you all right?” a voice shouted from out of the blue.

“Fine,” Jayla said, but she didn’t really mean it. This was her time, so why was she so nervous all of a sudden? Was it Ryloth’s offense that scared her, or was it that last game? What had happened to her resolve?

When play resumed, Jayla stared down to the other end of the field. Zeke was being toyed with by the Force forwards; that was good. But then the Bith was yelling something up the field. Jayla lifted an eyebrow in response; what was he going on about? It wasn’t like his team had the ball . . .

“Rook! Head up!” Shayt Contar yelled out from the field.

Jayla shook her head out of her fog, but when she re-focused on the field in front of her, she saw a flash of black as a Ryloth forward tossed the ball at her. She feebly jumped out to get it, but she had gone in the opposite direction. The ball, unmolested on its way to the net, hit the back with a crisp snap. 10-8 Force. On the sidelines, Coach Korthe threw down her play card in disgust. Contar, the Feeorin, came over.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded. “That was pathetic!”

“Leave me alone,” Jayla said, retrieving the ball from the net.

“Keep your damn head up, Rook, or I’m going to break your neck so it stays on straight,” Shayt said, spitting on the ground as she said so.

Jayla tossed the ball back into play, but her pass had easily been intercepted by a Ryloth midfielder and was brought back into the offensive zone for the Rough Riders. Jayla this time made sure to follow the path of the ball as it was passed around. This time, she was going to catch that ball and take points off the board. You never fooled Jayla Leed twice. Then, a forward came up, caught a pass, and then uncorked a behind-the-back shot that somehow skipped towards the net. Jayla dove for it, but she once again missed the ball as it skittered into the net. In less than a minute, she had given up two goals; six points just like that. The Rough Riders now had the lead, and Jayla couldn’t understand what was going on. This wasn’t any worse than practice, so why couldn’t she stay focused and keep her eye on the ball at this level? She slammed her cleat into the ground in frustration as she recovered the ball again.

---

Jayla wearily jumped out for the ball again. This time she made contact, but the ball hit off her glove wrong and skipped over the bar for a point. The entire second half, she had been contested every minute it seemed like. The defense, which was supposed to be good, wasn’t doing anything to help her. None of the starters looked comfortable out there, so Jayla was being hung out to dry. But she wasn’t exactly on top of her game, either. What a terrible game.

When the horn finally sounded to end the game, Jayla walked off the field without saying anything. Why did this feel so similar to the week before, when the exact same thing happened? She came on in relief, and proceeded to give up a ton of points. No shocker there. Although she hadn’t really kept track, she had given up roughly 20 points in the loss; unacceptable, by her standards.

When the team returned to the locker room, no one said anything. Jerek Deter, foot in a cast, was moping by his locker. Obviously that injury had subdued him quite a bit, and now he was going to be forced to sit out for a while. Eldis Dumerville, who had been beat on so many occasions during the game, pulled his jersey over his face in embarrassment. So Jayla wasn’t the only one feeling the blues after this last game.

Pam Korthe came into the locker room, a scowl on her face. “All right, team. I hate doing this, but there are going to be some roster shakeups coming soon. Defense, don’t get comfortable out there, because all of you are going to do extra reps this week. I can’t have this occurring every week, because we aren’t giving Leed a chance in goal . . .”

“Damn Rook needs to stop focusing on her pretty-girl attitude and play Limmie,” Shayt growled.

“Yeah,” Eldis said. “We need commitment from her now that Kapp’s down.”

“I don’t like that attitude,” Pam said, “but they’re right, Leed. You’re the starter now, with Kapp gone. He’s got a fracture in his fibula, so he’s done for the season. The doctors are going to perform surgery on him this week, and hopefully he’ll be able to be back for next season. But we can’t mope about that; Leed, you need to step up, because right now you’re on a real thin leash. I can’t keep vouching for you with the Front Office if you keep giving up lame duck points like that. Keep your head up, and actually watch the game unfold. Don’t let it pass you by, because if you keep failing to even try out there, you’re going to get shipped off real fast.” Jayla only kept her head down, not wanting to look at anyone. She had the feeling that many of her teammates were staring at her with contempt. She was screwing it up royally, and they didn’t like seeing that.

“Now, on to other matters,” Korthe continued. “We’ve got some holes to fill in next week. The injuries are starting to pile up, so I want to remind everyone that we need to take this one step at a time. Don’t go injuring yourself because you’re trying to make a dumb play. Be smart out there. Nauranta has been hurt, and he’ll be out a few weeks. Lynn,” she motioned to the reserve Hapan forward. “I need you to put in some time at Full Forward for next week.”

“All right, Coach,” Lynn said.

“I know you’ve never played there before, but I can’t afford to shift Riff over there right now,” Pam replied.

“I can do it,” Riff said from the back of the room. “I can shift over, Coach. Give me a chance.”

“We’ll work on it in practice,” Pam said. “Lynn, you and Riff will split some reps there over this next week, and hopefully we’ll be able to adjust. Anyways, expect some changes to come soon on our roster, so all of you better bring your ‘A’ games this week. Team dismissed.”

Jayla sulked all the way to the team bus. Now she had even been called out by her coach and teammates. Not the way she wanted to make her debut into the league.

---

Ryloth, downtown bar



“Tough spell,” Tonga said. Five of the Thyferra players were sitting at the bar, drinking booze to try and forget the game that day.

“Eh, we get to go home now,” Boggs Campbell said. He took a long swig of whiskey, and then placed the shot glass down on the counter. “Barkeep, get me another.”

“You sure?” the Whipid barkeep asked. “You look a little tipsy, sir.”

“I’m freen . . . er . . . fine,” Boggs said, swaying in his chair a little bit. The barkeep handed him two shots of whiskey, both of which were downed real fast by Campbell.

Jayla finished her third beer, setting the glass down hard on the counter. Her vision was starting to get a little awkward; she was starting to get drunk, but she didn’t care. She wanted to wash away the sorrows of that tough game. She placed an order for two more beers, and then began to munch on some fries in front of her. Man they tasted good . . . just like Nadiem chicken . . . with some strange, sweet taste to them . . .

When the beer arrived, she downed one real quick, and then started in on the next one. Now she was really getting drunk, but she didn’t realize it very quickly. The room began to spin a little, and she began to smirk at no one in particular. Everyone around her was starting to get drunk, except for Reena, who had stopped at only one beverage . . . until Jayla could see that she had several shot glasses next to her as well. If they couldn’t win the game, at least they could all get drunk together.

“Hey Tonga, you have a funny-looking head,” Jayla said, completely sloshed as she drank another beer. “You also look a little blue . . . you’re funny . . .”

“Shut . . . shut up . . .” Tonga said. He was also drunk, and then he got off his seat woozily. “Hey, I’m gonna go back to the hotel . . . and eat some nachos or something . . . I’m so damn hungry . . . anyone wanna come . . .?”

“It’s nacho cheese!” Reena said out loud, drunk as well. She then whooped it up, even though no one else was laughing with her. The Whipid at the bar shook his head and gave her another shot glass, which she downed. Jayla finished her sixth beer and then began to rock back and forth a little bit. Man, she had to pee really bad . . .

“Hey, good-looking . . .” Boggs said to her. Both of them were completely wasted by this point. “You . . . are . . . the best keeper . . . in the galaxy . . .”

Jayla hiccupped. Now she had this real strange urge, one she had never really felt before. Man, being drunk certainly was awkward, wasn’t it?

---

Jayla awoke from her deep slumber. It felt like someone had hit her in the head with a hammer; ugh, having a hangover sucked real bad. She was staring at the ceiling of a motel room . . . wait, where was this? She didn’t recognize this place; it wasn’t the team hotel, that was for sure. She readied herself to get out of bed, but then she realized that she had no clothes on; she was completely nude underneath the bed sheets. This was a shock to her system; what had happened last night? Poking her head over the side of the bed, she could see her clothes heaped in a pile, haphazardly tossed there. Man, had she been that drunk last night that she had done such a dumb thing?

She reached down to pick her clothes, but then her arm hit something solid on the other side of the bed. It certainly wasn’t a nightstand, because it felt a little fleshier than that. She looked over, and to her horror, Boggs Campbell was snoozing right next to her. From what she could tell, he didn’t have any clothes on either. Boggs woke up and lifted his head from the pillow. He was also dealing with a hangover, as his head seemed to be swimming a little. “Morning,” he said.

“Don’t tell me,” Jayla said. “Don’t tell me we did.”

“I’d say we did,” Boggs said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Jayla’s head fell back onto her pillow, which wasn’t that comfortable. So she had done something stupid after getting wasted the night before at the bar. Man, coach was going to kill her. She was already in the doghouse for her poor play, and now this. Jayla shut her eyes and let out a sigh. Things couldn’t get any worse, could they?

TAG: JediMaster_1977 for first part, No One for second

 

Jenna Leed
Great Iziz Field

Jenna walked in to Great Iziz Field just hours before the game with the Bakura Miners was to be held. While she was doing her daily warm ups she saw the starting Midfielder for the Crazy Dragons, Michael Jaymes hobbling on to the field. He injured his ankle in the game against the Thyferra Force last week.

“Hey Michael how’s your ankle doing?

He looked at her with frustration. “Not too good. Looks like i might have to sit out this game as well. Stang!” he cursed as he rubbed his ankle. “I can barely stand on it much less run. I just want to be able to play especially this game against Alana Glencross. How many chances do you get to play against with such great players like that.”

Jenna knew how he felt. She was just competitive as he was and knew she would be pleading with the team doctor to let her play. “Meanwhile” He continued “The rookie is shining bright in my spot.” He was referring to Gayla Renhorn the first round draft pick for the Onderon Crazy Dragons. She was one the stars at the college level renown for her abilities.

“Yeah she is looking good, but don’t worry I don’t think she will take your starting job from you. Just concentrate on getting healed up.” she said sincerely. Though if she still played the same way it actually might happen, but Jenna wasn’t going to tell that to Michael. Jenna continued with her pre-game warm ups when Gayla went up to her.

“Hey veteran”

“Hey rookie what’s up?” Jenna turned to look at her, She was very pretty with a athletic build to her.

:I just wanted to say i like the speech you made during the half of the first game. You have a lot of guts and i like that.”

“Thanks rookie, from what i can see you do as well” Gayla just smiled smugly and went off the field. Pre-game warm ups were over it was time to play some limmie. The crowd was hyped up at Great Iziz Field. They were chanting for the Crazy Dragons as the team took the field. Onderon won the coin toss and elected to receive the ball first.

Jenna got the ball first she was driving it away from the defender and then passed it to a wide open Renhorn. Gayla was pumped as ever as she was one on one with none other than Alana Glencross. Renhorn could careless if she was a legend in Limmie, she was going to push the ball past her to make the goal. As if Gayla had written it in a script she scored.

As the game went on there were a few scuffles that broke out and Gayla was in on everyone. One was with Glencross whom Renhorn sworn had tripped her on purpose. The refs took control of the game by giving a warning to Gayla and a penalty shot to Glencross. Gayla couldn’t believe it. She was the one who got tripped, yet the offender got the penalty kick. Gayla was so mad but then Jenna came up to her and told her to calm down.

The score kept going back and forth in the lead. It was the last half and they were tied at twenty one. Jenna had the ball and and hit it with her head and the ball entered the goal with a slight deflection from the goalkeeper. They had the lead again, then Renji Dos scored again at the end of regulation. They had won a tough game. Jenna was so happy she hi-fived her teammates. They were 2-0 which couldn’t have made her happier. She wondered how Zeke was doing. She knew that he was in her conference and couldn’t help being a little competitive with him. Still she wished him luck but just not as much as Onderon. She also thought about her sister Jayla who seemed to be having a rough time. She wished she could be there for her but since they were on opposing teams it would be difficult.


TAG: Trieste, JediMaster_1977

 

IC: Zeke Barbosa
Kala'unn Memorial stadium

It was the night after the Riders big win against the Thyferra Force and Zeke was hanging out in the Cantina inside the stadium celebrating with the team. Ryloth was off to its best start since the days of Ciscerian Barbosa, and that was back when they were still in the GCLA. Now the Rough Riders were not only in their first year as part of the ELL, a dream come true for Zeke, but they were 2-0 as well and according to the holoscreen above the bar, which was turned to the GSC (Galactic Sports Channel), the Onderon Crazy Dragons were also 2-0.

Zeke had fallen out of communication with his girlfriend, Jenna Leed star player on the conference rivals of the Riders, and with them beating the Bakura Miners getting to 2-0 he decided what better time to do so.

He let his teammates know he was going outside, and then he pulled his comm out and pressed 3 on his speed dial. As it started to ring he heard her pick up.

"Hey there beautiful. Congrats on the great start to the season. Just makes our matchup later on alot more interesting."

TAG: Teegirloo

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Luxery Box, Euceron Stadium, Euceron

Taab's mood had not improved over the past week and the result on the pitch in Euceron threatened to make it all the worse. He had almsot been hopeful that the local forecasters would have botched their prognostications for the weather on gameday, snow, rain even a windstorm would have at least made the game interesting. Instead he had been forced to endure an exceptionaly poor outing by his team. Three points, all scored by the backups on a breakaway back of the net goal by their young Shistavanen. It was not the kind of bounceback outing Taab had hoped for from his team. He wasn't sure if it had been part of a well designed defensive scheme or if it was just the happenstance of play, but it seemed the Mercs were having difficulty getting the ball deep within the Storm's defensive zone throughout the game. Vau in particular had been hounded several times trying to get the ball upfield and had commited several turnovers. Even when the ball had moved up to the athletic Merc forwards, they had been able to do nothing with it. They were stopped at every turn by a spectacular defensive effort and even better goaltending. At least their own defense had managed to keep it close for the first half. But it was to no avail and eventually the Storm pulled away for a low scoring, but easy victory.

Their schedule got no easier. Next week they would have to travel to Rydonni Prime and face off against the winless Monarchs. A playoff team from last season, their fans would be no doubt expecting an overdue win for their own team. He was sure the Grande Villa would be a maelstrom of noise and excitement. The week after that they would have to travel to Bakura (for the second season in a row). Taab would hate for them to head into that rivalry match with no wins to their credit. He sighed, this was going to be a long two weeks.

---

IC: Ryi Kor'le
Visitor's locker room, Euceron Stadium, Euceron.

Ryi rubbed her aching shoulder as she dressed after the game. She wasn't sure who had put that last hit on her, but she would make sure to take note of it on the game film later that week. Not that it really mattered. She had taken too many hits to count today, and though that last hit had caused a turnover, it hadn't led to any points as the Storm had just run out the clock at that point. The game had been lost long before when her and the rest of the offense couldn't seem to get into any kind of offensive rythem. the Storm defense had been relentless, and she suspected their familiarity with the Mercs style of play had something to do with it. Every time she went to catch a pass there would be at least one defender already in position to either take her out, or take the ball from her. It was maddening, and it had happened to everyone on the offensive unit.

Vau's string of turnovers hadn'ty helped. After the Mercs had started to fall behind the rookiee had gotten anxious and started trying to push the ball forward without regard for the defense. Several good opportunities had been lost that way. though Ryi didn't know if they would have been enough to make a difference. Only the second team, team aruetii, had enabled the Mercs to avoid the shutout. The old veteran, and former Storm player, Nertrayn had intercepted a ball late in the first half and pushed it forward to the rookiee Mor'kesh. Mor'kesh in turn got the ball to Naughten who put it into the back of the net for the Mercs only three points. The entire "drive" had taken only a few seconds and had been acomplished before the Storm could get their defense set.

Too bad they couldn't have put together a few more.

She caught the looks she was getting from Kote and Fi, they were angry at the way they had played and of course at the fact that the team was now 0-2. At least the team aruetii concept had partially panned out this week, so much for the vaunted Mandalorian superiority. Still, partial wasn't good enough. Things were not looking up for the Mercs right now, they would have to turn things around quickly if they were to make a playoff run, and take their shot at finally winning a Galactic Cup.

TAG: jcgoble3, CPL_Macja

 

IC: Pamila Korthe
Thyferra

It was good to be home, Pam thought as she looked around Thyferra Stadium. The venerable old arena, which hadn’t seen major action in so long, was going to host its first Elite League game in over half a century the next day. The Thyferran fans, re-energized by the Force’s remarkably good runs the last two seasons in the Premier League, would probably show up en masse to see their team play Elite League ball. Add in the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers coming to town, the defending Galactic Cup champions, and the ticket scalpers were going to have a field day.

But Pam’s mind was on other things. Her team was a mess; they weren’t scoring, their defense was leakier than a tin can tossed into one of Kamino’s great oceans, and her starting goaltender was out for the season. Add in Nar Shaddaa’s hot offense and experience, and it looked like a real uphill battle. The Zeltron coach sighed; what could she do about it? The front office had gone ahead and brought up three new players to fill the holes in the roster, but they weren’t enough. During the week, Syprul Raches, the burly Shistavanen forward who had been struggling in his first two games, had gone down in practice with a broken hand. Diagnosis, 2-3 weeks to heal, and even then he might not be 100%. Riff Persnor and Lynn Stiles had been splitting reps in practice afterwards, but the position of Full Forward just seemed iffy at best. This new Morryss was supposed to be a real fireballer, but according to what Pam had heard, he had been signed out of Winter ball; not exactly high-level Limmie. The two rookies who would be joining Morryss Pam was more optimistic about, but when her defense was full of holes, she wasn’t sure how much better these two rookies could make the situation. Everything was a mess.

She scrolled through her roster on a datapad. Jerek Deter, who had strained his MCL in the Ryloth game, was going to miss this contest, and starting Half Back Ortho Dyhon was doubtful with a bruised sternum. It was unlikely that he was going to suit up, so that made two changes that Pam knew she had to make in the next 24 hours. To make things worse, Decha Wynas, a starting midfielder, had contracted an illness, and was going to miss the game as well. When the injury bug hit, it certainly seemed to strike hard.

Finally, Pam made some decisions. Her team might not like them, but she had her hands tied. They needed to get better on defense, or their already-dim hopes of making the playoffs would get even bleaker.

---

“I have some changes to our roster to announce,” Pam said to her team before they hit the field for warmups the next day. “Since our defense is struggling, I’m going to make personnel changes. With Jerek and Ortho out for today’s game, I’ve penciled in Sheila at corner back, and Pasla at Half Back.” Pasla Tesh, a Hrakian who had been sent to the bench after starting the last two seasons, looked relieved to finally be starting again. “Looke, you’re going to start again today. Contar, you’re going to be on the bench. I’m going to get you in there today, but it’s apparent to me that you need more time to figure out our defensive scheme.” The Feeorin looked grim; she had never been benched on Coruscant. Then again, she hadn’t exactly done well this season, either. “Rainy, I need to see more effort out of you as well, so report to the bench today.” Frantsen looked heart-broken; now her starting job was on the line. Coach was certainly cleaning house here. “Myles,” Pam said to her fellow Zeltron, “I need you to take over Center Half.”

“Got it,” Myles said. He had a big grin on his face.


“Villie, I need you to take over Right Corner,” Pam said to Villie Bywash, the Amaran who had, like Pasla, lost her starting job over the offseason. “Lastly, Reena,” the Zeltron said to the Hapan rookie, “I’m going to need you to take on Left Half. Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll do my best,” Reena said.

“Good,” Pam replied. “Now for offense. Riff, I’m going to need you to play Full Forward today. Lynn, be prepared to be at multiple positions today; you might need to play heavy minutes in this one. Dyp,” she said to Dypral, the Weequay forward, “you’re starting at Left Corner today. No more changes along the front line; we’re due for a breakout game at some point, and you guys are good enough that I’m not going to mess around with the lineup too much just yet. All right, midfield. Decha can’t go today, so Sarya, I’m giving you the start. Rute, you’re going to be Backup 1.” This meant that Tonga was going to be first off the bench for the midfielders instead of second like he usually was on the depth chart.

“And in goal . . .” Pam said, frowning. “I’d like to suspend you for not showing up for curfew and generally being late, Leed, but I need you in goal today. And keep your head up, will you? I know you can do better; prove me right.”

As the team headed out onto the field for their warmups, Pam had a funny feeling like she had just made a huge paradigm shift in her team. Her instincts had told her to make these changes. Only time would determine if they were the right ones.

TAG: Liam_Vehn

 

IC: Vincent Cutter
Thyferra

For one game, at least, Gunba Pemiti looked pretty good. The veteran goalkeeper who had once anchored the Smugglers back end quieted her critics as she put up a strong performance against the Vandelhelm Jets, a team that had gotten used to being owned by the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. Rookies George Edwards and Xander Darkrider played a tighter game against the Jets and proved why they had been selected in the 271 Elite League Limmie Draft by a team in desperate need of some talented youth. So far, the roster was coming together.

But the hard part of the schedule was just arriving. The Smugglers would turn their collective attentions inward to the Thyferra Force in the first of two games against conference rivals. The landscape of the game had changed significantly since last year and with conference play would come some hotly contested tilts for a strong push to the Final, wherever that was going to be hosted this year. Though Thyferra and Rydonni Prime looked like easy victories on paper, Cutter knew that these games could also be traps for his franchise that suddenly found itself tied for the top spot in the weak Solo Conference.

The Meredith Chambers injury had hurt the team. Losing the most important player on the field could have demoralized most teams, instead, the Smugglers had rallied and shot down the Jets in their house. Now, the team needed to stay mentally focused. With some tape on Pemiti, Cutter was sure that Pamela Korthe and her cohort of young players would find ways to crack the Smugglers defense. That was to be expected. That was as it should be.

Now was not the time to let the victory over the Jets get to their heads. Now was the time to focus the players, keep the no name offense ready to go. Speaking of offense, Cutter realized that he needed to do something with Forsythe’s contract. She was a solid role player and had helped the Smugglers get their ninth title last year. But she was getting older and her best years were behind her.

Lots of decisions loomed but the important thing now was to focus on defeating the Force, a team that was resourceful and planning on playing the role of spoiler. The key to the game against the Force would be to put up as many points on the board against rookie goalkeeper Jayla Leed. Make Leed get frustrated and break her concentration. The Smugglers had veterans all across the board on their offensive front. Versatile players with championship experience. Again, it was simply a matter of focusing and making sure that Rollko, Forsythe, Reiger, and Dupont, were ready to roll and keep the Force in the basement of the Solo Conference.

Cutter watched the Smuggler team take the field. They were ready. They were focused. Now, it was time to play Limmie.

Tag: @JediGunny

 

IC: Alana Glencross
Great Iziz Field, Iziz, Onderon

"Shut up Renhorn," Alana said. She probably should have muttered it, but she didn't. She also didn't exactly shout it. She was so frigging tired of this young rookie. Jeez, get nominated for one MVP award--and not win it, let's remember--and you suddenly thought you were the Force's gift to sentient life. Renhorn had been making her case for a penalty to the officials, but she didn't win the case. In fact, out of all this Alana was awarded a penalty kick.

"Serves you right," Alana said under her breath as she lined up for the shot.

The two midfielders had been matched with each other when Renhorn was on the field. Michael Jaymes had been injured for the Dragons and they were using their first round draft pick to share the duties of picking up the slack. The aggressive rookie had challenged Alana at every turn. Well welcome to the big leagues honey. We don't exactly play nice here.

Alana sized up the kick in the hostile environment. In the high offensive zone there were two ways for this to go. Alana could try to put it up and into the offense's hands to see if they could keep working their magic--and magic it had been today. Rodders and company were humming along these days. The other option was a bar shot. The redhead looked to the sideline to get direction from Coach Valerii. Talley would definitely have made up his mind and communicated his wishes to the team on what they were supposed to do. Gaeriel, however, was simply standing on the sideline with arms crossed, watching the play. It was so different for Alana. As Midfielder Coach, Valerii had always been communicating. Now she sat back and watched the play during a game. She only communicated in breaks like halftime or timeout. And in practice she was always giving feedback. But now she just watched. It was almost unnerving. It was as if they didn't need her now, that they should know what to do. But the truth was, wasn't this when they needed a coach most?

Glencross took a deep breath to try and hide a sigh. She was just going to have to decide herself, and now. The refs wouldn't wait for her forever.

She held up a hand with one finger to signal to her teammates she'd try for the over the bar point rather than a set play for a goal. Alana stepped up and booted the ball, which took off into its parabolic arc high up...and between the uprights. Alana nodded and jogged backwards into position to get ready for the play coming the other way once more.

---

Office of Dr. Etie Calay, Salis D'aar, Bakura

"...but you saw all of that. You said you were going to watch the game, didn't you?" Alana said as she sat on her shrink's couch. Luckily it wasn't one of those long couches you were supposed to lay down on, but a regular couch you just sat on. If it had been the former, Alana probably would have just sat on the floor. The long laying couch wouldn't have gone over well. Crazy people used those couches. And Alana was not crazy.

"I did, but I'm still trying to understand the nuances of the game. My son canceled on watching with me at the last minute," Dr. Calay said, "I was hoping he'd explain some of the finer points. So all I had to go on was the sportscasters. They seemed to feel you might have tripped Gayla."

Alana growled in frustration. "Why does everybody think I did it?" she exclaimed.

"So this happens a lot with you?" Dr. Calay asked.

"Limmie is a contact sport. So, in case this isn't clear, you come into contact with other beings," Alana explained, perhaps a little too sarcastically, "It's part of the game. But Maker forbid that I run into someone. Oh no. Then it's a penalty. But please, everybody else interfere with your opponents. Slide tackle the hell out of them. Trip them up. But if I bump into someone, oh it's a penalty."

"And yet you won the sportsmanship award last season," Dr. Calay stated.

"The sportsmanship and athletic achievement award," Alana said, "I'm pretty sure they didn't give it to me for the former. And of course now that I've won that it's such a big deal if I so much as lay a pinky on somebody."

"So you don't think you've ever committed a penalty on anyone?"

"Well of course I have. It happens. You make a mistake, but it feels like every time I touch somebody out there that it's such a big frakking deal and you've got these punks like Renhorn crying their eyes out to the refs," Alana said.

"You know you're never going to be able to control how other people act Alana. You can only control how you react to them," Dr. Calay said.

"Yeah yeah," Alana said tiredly, "Sure. Whatever."

"Can I ask you about something else?"

"You just did."

The psychologist gave Alana a look of displeasure. "You know what I meant."

"Whatever, Doctor C," the redhead sighed by way of giving permission.

"When you chose to go for one point, you potentially passed up another two if you'd made a play for the goal. You lost the game by two points."

After a couple seconds Alana gave Dr. Calay a querying look. "I don't hear a question in there, Doc."

"Do you blame yourself for the loss? After all, you could have tied the game, gone to overtime, maybe won if you'd put the ball down to the offense. You said yourself they've played really well so it wouldn't have been a bad move to give it to them, right?" Dr. Calay asked.

"I knew it. Everybody's a day after expert," Alana groaned, "'You should have done this.' 'You shouldn't have passed to her.' 'You should have shot on net.' 'You should have gone for the extra point.' Maybe we would have scored, maybe we wouldn't have. It was a tight game at that point. The extra point was the right move. It was the right move."

"But you have hindsight too, Alana," Dr. Calay pointed out, "And it seems like you put a lot of pressure on yourself. I'm just asking if you think that you should have tried for a goal rather than the over the bar point."

Alana realized she wasn't going to escape the question so she sighed and thought. "I don't know. Maybe."

"You had four points in this game, which isn't bad for a midfielder, right?"

"Yeah," Alana admitted.

"So you played pretty well, in contrast to the game against Corellia and this was an improvement over the game against Nadiem," Dr. Calay said, "Are you happy with how you played?"

"No," Alana said immediately, and almost a little offended that Dr. Calay had even asked the question.

"Why's that?"

"Because we lost," Alana replied without hesitation.

The Omwati nodded and turned off her datapad. "I kind of thought that might be the case. Well, I'll see you after the Vandelhelm game."

"So that's it? Again?" Alana asked, "Doc, all we seem to do is talk. It doesn't seem like you're trying to fix anything here."

"Do you want to be fixed?" Dr. Calay asked.

"No!...But I mean isn't that the whole reason I'm here?"

"You know sometimes it's useful to just talk about things, Alana," Dr. Calay said, "If there's anything I think I can suggest to hep you play better Limmie from a mental perspective, I'll let you know."

Alana got up to leave. Halfway to the door she turned around and said. "You know, it's a home game, so if you wanted tickets I can make that happen. Maybe your son would like to go to a game with you. You know, so someone could explain things to you."

"That would be great. Thanks, Alana," Dr. Calay said.

"Yeah, sure," Alana said before leaving.

Tag: Teegirloo

 

IC: Marte Nalo
Location: En route to Euceron Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron
Time: Day of Week 3 home game against Crazy Dragons

"Well, I've checked with a witness to be safe, but the obvious is obvious. She's being cited for following too close. You're free to go."

Marte sighed. "Thanks, officer." He climbed back into his speeder and started it up. "Well, kiddo, let's see if we can get to the stadium without any further incidents."

"Yeah, let's do that," commented Tendra.

Marte looked both ways, then pressed the throttle to accelerate. The next few minutes were uneventful, giving Marte a chance to chat with Tendra about school. Tendra attended a special school for the gifted one day a week, and this week the students had been assigned to shadow their parent or another relative to work for a day and report back on what they learned. So it was that Tendra was coming to the stadium with her dad—CRUNCH!

"Oh, for the love of... Tendra, you OK?"

"Yeah. Looks like the same driver as before."

Marte turned around, saw that it was, and cursed. He then noticed that once again, she had been busy talking on her comlink, and so he cursed again, this time at her.

The police officer who had handled the first crash wasn't too far behind, and he got out of his speeder to a stream of curse words from Marte. "Calm down, Nalo. I saw what happened myself this time."

"She's a motherkriffing idiot that needs to put down the comlink and drive," declared Marte.

The other driver made a threatening move toward Marte, and the officer stepped between them. "Enough. We're going to settle this like civilized sentient beings."

"By taking away her comlink," added Marte.

The other driver yelled, "Fine! You want my comlink? Take it!" She threw the comlink toward Marte as hard as she could, and it hit Tendra in the back of the head.

"OWWW!" cried Tendra as she instinctively grabbed the spot where it had hit her.

The officer immediately radioed for backup and ordered the other driver to turn around and place her hands on the speeder. Instead, she merely cursed at the officer, daring him to come and get her.

Backup arrived within seconds, and after a brief struggle, the two officers took the other driver into custody. The original officer then checked on Tendra to make sure she was OK before coming back to Marte. "She's going to be charged with assault on a minor, and we'll probably get her for refusal to obey a police officer and resisting arrest as well."

"So can I go? I'm running late for work."

"Yeah. I've already got all your information from the first accident. I can just copy that over onto the second report. Not exactly proper procedure, but I don't want to hold you up any longer than necessary."

"OK. Thanks again." Marte got back into the speeder and left the scene. This time, they made it to the stadium without further incident. After parking, Marte showed Tendra around as he prepared for the day. It seemed to be a really nice day for limmie, with temperatures in the low 20s centigrade* and sunny skies, but rain was forecasted to arrive around halftime. Tendra was ready to learn what was involved in her dad's job, but was also ready to enjoy the game.

TAG: Teegirloo

*OOC: equals low 70s Fahrenheit

 

GM Post

And for everyone but me, conference play begins! I will begin using conference records in the standings in the events of ties, unless head-to-head can easily be resolved. Confeference records will also be posted with the standings so people can see that easily.

Bonus rolls to Bakura, Euceron, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, Onderon, Ryloth, and Thyferra.

Week 3 Results

Vandelhelm Jets at Bakura Miners (8-7)
Onderon Crazy Dragons at Euceron Storm (34-24)
Mando’ade Mercs at Rydonni Prime Monarchs (2-10)
Ryloth Rough Riders at Nadiem Chiefs (31-15)
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Thyferra Force (9-40)

Tag: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja Dubya_Scott jcgoble3 JediMaster_1977 Jedi Gunny Liam_Vehn Teegirloo

 

IC: Vincent Cutter
Smugglers 9, Force 40

Vincent Cutter wanted to drink himself into oblivion by the end of the first half. The Thyferra Force had absolutely blown up the Smugglers backfield and exposed the two rookies for the inexperienced players that they were. He supposed that they were due for a bad game. Everyone had them. But he had not been prepared for something so embarrassing. Fortunately, his seat was not in danger of getting hot as his team was just coming off a Galactic Cup triumph last season.

Gunba Pemiti looked tired. Damn tired. Not even Meredith Chambers could have saved the Smugglers from this rout. And there was nothing Cutter could do from his cush seat in one of the luxury boxes. The game plan had been to attack the Force’s weak midfield and that was where the game had hinged poorly. Xander Darkrider had been aggressive, careless, even stupid, with the ball. Now the Force were making them pay and routinely rolling out plays to his side of the field. The first round draft pick was looking like an undrafted free agent, a walk on, a guy who had dreams of being great without ever playing like he was great.

Pamela Korthe had come prepared and had every advantage going for her young professional squad. Jayla Leed was looking like a pro back there in the net and nothing the Smugglers front five could do would change that today. Once half time was reached, well, the game was way out of reach. If the season continued this way, Cutter was going to have his hands full explaining to the franchise fanbase where they went wrong. But it was still early and the Smugglers were playing in a weak conference.

He could almost hear the media critics tomorrow playing Monday morning goaltender. ‘Why have Gunba Pemiti in there when they could’ve gotten someone younger?’ ‘Why weren’t the Smugglers prepared for a potential career ending injury to Meredith Chambers?’ ‘Where has the vaunted defense gone? Is the team suffering a championship hangover?’

He poured himself another drink. This was getting to be too much. Getting sloshed on Thyferra seemed like a good idea. What’s the worst that could happen? Someone see him and recommend he attend an AA meeting? Really, even if Cutter took a tumble off the second tier balcony, Thyferra medical hospitals were some of the best in the galaxy. He would be fine. Right?

Well, Cutter concluded, he would be in a lot better shape than his team right now. They were 1-2 on the road this season. That wasn’t good. Perhaps they could right the ship against the Monarchs. But Cutter knew better than to write that team off as an easy victory. You had to be prepared for every given Sunday, or whatever day Limmie was played. He looked at the scores from the Jets-Miners game. At least they had lost. That was some consolation. Still, that team was no slouch either having clobbered the Chiefs on opening day.

Still, his Smugglers had heart. They were a tough team that usually played well down the stretch. Sometimes, it took a few bumps in the road before all the chips fell into their basket. Of course, last year was perfect. Winning at home, in the greatest game of all time, yeah, nothing could top that. But still, the fans wouldn’t want people to think that Cutter was resting on his laurels. Truth was, he had done nothing of the sort. The draft had, on paper, improved the team in the long term. But if this year went badly, it could serve as a development year to assess talent and go forward.

His datapad vibrated. Looking down at the device, Cutter smiled. Meredith Chambers was already on the path to recovery and seemed to be ahead of schedule for the type of injury that she had suffered. Perhaps she would put on the burgundy jersey one more time this season before the year closed out. Perhaps the day wasn’t so bad after all.

Tag: No One

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Grande Villa, Rydonni Prime

After three weeks into their grand experament the Mercs stood with no wins and three losses. Worse yet, this week's loss had mirrored the previous week. Either the Monarchs staff had done an excellent job of studying film from the Mercs game at Euceron or else had come up with a strikingley similar game plan to the one that had defeated them the week before. Such a game plan seemed simple enough, deny the athletic and explosive Mercs offense from ever touching the ball, but to see it run to perfection against his team two weeks in a row was irksome to say the least.

Or maybe there was a "book out" on how to defeat the Mercs now. Taab mulled this over. When they had first come into the league they had been the talk of the ELL, postseason awards and playoff runs seemed to be their destiny. But the past few season seasons had seen the Mercs doing progressivly worse in tha standings. It was hoped that this new plan with "team aruetii" would reverse that, but it only seemed to exacerbate the problem. Taab was not a patient man, he wanted to see results. His initial reaction was to fire the coaching staff and GM and release all of the aruetii signed to the team. In his mind it had all been a mistake.

But he didn't. Who else would come in to coach the team under such circumstances? No good could come of firing the coaching staff and GM at this point in the season. Nor would releasing those under contract. They couldn't be enjoying things much as it stood right now either. Taab decided that they would fulfill the terms of their contracts. They would re-evauluate things in the off season.

---

IC: Ryi Kor'le
Visitor's Locker Room, Grande Villa, Rydonni Prime

Another loss, another game in which she had hardly touched the ball. At least this time around she had managed a few above the bar scores, but that was all the scoring the Mercs had acomplished in this matchup. It had been a repeat of last week, the Monarchs had draped themselves all over the Mercs offense with nary a call from the officials. Of course any time one of the Mercs offense had pushed off against a Monarchs defender to get some space that had been called. It seemed to her the officials were feeling good about themselves and the issues they had caused during last season's great quiet.

But that wasn't the reason for their loss. They had just been unable to put points on the board for the past two weeks. She hoped they couold fix the problem before their next game. At Bakura, against Glencross, their rivalry had cooled over the past few seasons. Neither team had done much, though it had been last years finale against Bakura that had kept the Mercs out of the playoffs. Ryi was determined that this week would be different.

She looked around the locker room, seeing if there were any "fired" to be put out. Practice had been rather chippy this week between the starters and team aruetii. A few arguments had to be defused by her as team captain. there had also been a dustup between Vau and Flarn broken up by the coachinf staff. Only three weeks in and this was already taking on the look of a lost season. At least the rest of the Conference wasn't doing much better.

The rest of her team mates looked as dejected as she did. They knew that something would have to change soon if they were to somehow turn their season around. At least it kept them all from fighting, at least for now.

TAG: CPL_Macja, Trieste

 

IC: Jayla Leed
Thyferra Stadium at Byree Clearing



Jayla settled into her goalie stance as the two teams readied themselves for the coming game. The Thyferra Force, who had lost two real stinkers to start off their return to the Elite League, were now kicking off the home season with a game against the defending champions, the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. It also happened to be Jayla’s first career professional start; Kapp Pyston, the Force’s starting goaltender, had just undergone surgery to rectify the injury he had sustained a week earlier in the Ryloth loss, and was out for the season. Thus, with no other goalies on the roster, as Grace Detrot had been loaned out to a lower-league team, Jayla was given the start. And, given how badly her other two outings had gone, this could easily be her last.

When the ball was kicked into play by Gunba Pemiti of the Smugglers, the game was on. Jayla watched as Rajah Rollko, the Shistavanen forward, took the pass from the midfield and brought it up into the zone. Man, she looked tiny compared to Syprul Raches, but the Force’s own walking carpet of sorts was out with a broken hand. Not exactly something you wanted to play the Smugglers with, since they would be gunning for it extra hard. It was just the way they played. This made Jayla a little uneasy; she didn’t like seeing a freight speeder running her down like that. Rollko tossed the ball at the net, and Jayla completely missed it. 3-0 Smugglers just like that. Jayla pounded the ground with a clenched fist. That hadn’t gone well. The crowd groaned; they had seen this reel already. If Leed didn’t get her act together, they were just going to get up and leave, because the Smugglers were that good on offense. With the way the Force’s offense was sputtering between slow and stop, it would be no contest.

And for the next few minutes, it wasn’t. Jayla got beat again, this time by Dupont. 4-0 Smugglers. More anxiety from the crowd, and Jayla didn’t blame them. It seemed like her supernatural abilities at UC Bella Vistal had evaporated as soon as she had taken that Renegades jersey off for the final time as a player. Thus, she was rather subdued when the Smugglers, taking advantage of Thyferra rookie Sarya Dilvam’s bad pass, came back up with numbers. Rollko dodged Myles Tormera and came up for another shot. But she never released the ball; a huge shot from Reena Wyley, the Hapan rookie, brought Rollko down in a heap. Wyley pumped her fist in celebration for that hit, and there was a gasp from the crowd. What a hit! Jayla collected the ball and then tossed it up field. Dilvam was there to receive it, then tossed it over to fellow midfielder Lai Blutas. The Twi’lek dodged Xander Darkrider, the Smugglers’ first-round pick, with a simple move, and then dished the ball to Riff Persnor in the offensive zone. The “All-Star Cathar”, as his moniker now was, hopped over a Smugglers defender and then beat Pemiti with a corkscrew shot. 4-3 Smugglers. The crowd roared its approval for Persnor, and his teammates made sure to tell him that was a good shot.

Jayla was afraid that this was going to get away from them. But it never did. That hit by Wyley seemd to awaken the Force defense, and the Smugglers had no chance. Every time Forsythe, Rollko, Dupont or Reiger made it up the field, a Force defender was in their face. Wyley made several huge plays, slamming her slight frame into the larger forwards. On the other end, the defensive substitutions kept the defenders fresh; third-round picks Zumarrorroo and Tank Bratter made their league debuts, and quickly showed why they were considered draft-level talents. Zumarrorroo, the rookie out of UCBV, combined with Bratter to sandwich Rollko in a tackle that had led the Shistavanen to get up slowly off the turf in shame. Almost like magic, Jayla’s hands began to heat up. A Dupont shot, one that she usually missed, caromed off her fingers and went wide of the goal. When Forsythe, the crafty veteran, put a shot attempt towards the goal, Jayla tipped it over the bar. Although the Smugglers had scored a point, anyone who had really thought about it knew that Jayla had done the smart thing. Give up the one point to prevent the three-point goal. A sound play by the suddenly-hot rookie goalie.

Dupont let off another shot. It was 12-8 Force at this time, with a little bit of time to go in the first half. Jayla sized up the shot and then jumped out to meet the ball. It landed softly in her hands, and she chucked it back up the field. Dupont looked disgusted; undoubtedly she had been told in the pre-game that she could easily score on Jayla. But not now, not when the fourth overall pick was on top of her game.

At halftime, the Force were up 15-8. Riff had scored a pair of goals, and several other Thyferra players had chipped in points. They had already set a season high for points scored in a game, and they still had a half left to play. “The Smugglers are going to come out in this second half and try to beat us with their game,” Coach Korthe said at halftime. “We need to keep up our gameplan and make sure that we shut them down. Defense, keep that up out there, and Leed, don’t stop.”

And Jayla didn’t. When the second half opened, she blocked several shots that should have been goals, and every time made a Smuggler forward a little more frustrated. Meanwhile, on the other end of the field, Pemiti was getting blitzed by the Force offense. Riff burned the Smuggler goalie twice in one minute, finishing off the hat trick and pushing the Force lead higher. When the Cathar wasn’t doing damage, his teammates were. Boggs Campbell, the human forward, took a pass from Paz, a backup Rodian forward, and then dished a behind-the-back pass to Zadd. The former Ingbrand nominee used his stature to dodge a feeble tackle attempt by a Smuggler defender and rifled a shot into the goal.

As the minutes passed, the Force were pulling away. Pemiti looked gassed in goal for the Smugglers, but she was in the same boat that Jayla was. She was the only goalie on the roster, and thus had to play all 60 minutes. Jayla was tired too, but her defense had kept up the pressure and made it easy on her. Finally, one of the backup Smuggler forwards came up with the ball, trying to salvage something from this game. Jayla looked at her defensive alignment; she could do this. Baul Sdent, the reserve full back, took off the options for the forward, who came closer. But he was forced to spin around a tackle attempt by Tonga Rute, who had fallen into the defensive zone to help, and this was where he was hit. Jayla threw herself at the forward, smashing him into the ground. The crowd went nuts; they had never seen a goalie do such a thing. “That’s right!” Jayla yelled at the Smuggler forwards as they retreated. “You better run, because there’s more where that came from!” Tank came over, and the two chest bumped. Jayla staggered back a little, but that was to be expected when chest bumping a Herglic. Man, that shot had felt real good. Almost like she had taken all her frustration out on that one play. The loss in the Super 16 title game, the draft-day snub, the awful debut, her debacle the week before against Ryloth, the terrible night she had. And now she could look at this game and tell herself that she had laid out a professional Limmie player with a vicious hit. Not bad.

By the time the game was over, the Force had wiped the floor with the Smugglers 40-9. Jayla had a smug grin on her face; the Smugglers were limping off the field this time. What they had done to other teams so many times in the past had now happened to them. Their defense, usually a pride point, had been absolutely torn to shreds by the Force’s suddenly-dominant offense. Thyferra had the talent, and finally had put together a complete game. Riff Persnor had led the attack with 14 points, and apparently every forward on the roster had scored, which was quite the trick. Persnor and Zadd made sure to chest bump at the end of the game, as the offensive unit celebrated for several minutes after the game. Jayla got congratulations from the defense; they had finally made stops and kept her upright in goal so she could make plays.

“I have to say, Rook. That was impressive,” Shayt Contar, who had berated Jayla’s play the week before, said.

“Thanks,” Jayla replied. “You didn’t do so badly yourself, old-timer.”

Right then, a camera crew ran over. “Jayla! Can we interview you?!”

“Uh . . . sure,” Jayla said. The reporter began to speak to the camera.

“We’re here with Jayla Leed, goaltender for the victorious Force. Jayla, what a win. What did you do differently this week to lead up to this game?”

“Let’s just say that I was in a dark place after last week’s game,” Jayla said. “I hit rock bottom, and when you get there, there’s nowhere to go but up. I had faith in my abilities, but never thought I could pull this off.”

“How does it feel to not only have shut down the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers offense, with their four vaunted forwards, but to absolutely stifle them?”

“It feels great,” Jayla replied. “They’re the defending champs, and they deserve a lot of respect as such. But I knew I could stop them if I tried, and it paid off.”

“This was the Force’s first Elite League home game in over fifty years. This place was rocking, and you pulled through. You must be extremely impressed by how this pro game is, especially since by this time last year you were a college junior.”

“Yeah, this place really supported me and my teammates,” Jayla said. “They were great.”

“One last thing. Did you ever think you were going to wipe out that forward near the end of the game like that?”

Jayla grinned. “I did that in practice a while back, and everyone was staring at me like I had just grown a third leg or something. That hit felt good, because it allowed me to take out all my anger in a constructive way. And I took points off the board in doing so, so I think that counts for something right there.”



Right then, she could feel a hand coming around behind her head. Then, she could see a lot of squishy white goo mashed into her face. Tonga Rute, her former UCBV teammate, had come up and hit her in the face with a pie. Jayla blinked several times, moving her hand up to get some of the filling out of her eyes so she could see.

"Oh, and Rute brings up the old pie to the face tradition," the reporter said.

"Hm, it tastes pretty good . . ." Jayla said.

“I bet. Anyways, thank you for your time, Jayla,” the reporter said. When Jayla had gone towards the locker room, Pamila Korthe intercepted her.

“Where did that come from?” the Zeltron asked, shaking her head slightly.

Jayla pounded on her chest a little bit. “It’s always been there.”

“Well, could you do a little more of that? We’ve got Nadiem and their brute squad coming in next week. Maybe you could lighten them up a little by giving one of them a shot like you did earlier?”

“I can try,” Jayla said. On the overall, a great game by her. Now the Force were 1-2, and somehow leading the Solo Conference with this win. There was still a long ways to go, as conference play was just beginning to heat up, but Jayla now had something to strive towards in every game. And damn this first ELL win felt good.

TAG: Dubya_Scott (for next week's game)

 

IC: Corrie Anderson & Adanna Inviere
The Eerie, Salis D'aar, Bakura

From time to time the Queen Mother of the Hapes Consortium, in her infinite wisdom and generosity, declared a day of thanksgiving for the Hapan people, an opportunity for them to reflect and take stock on the blessings that had been bestowed upon them. Businesses shuttered, families and friends gathered, and good meals were had.

Corrie Anderson was a terrible cook and she was too far from home in the middle of the season to go home. And, unfortunately, the only other Hapan she knew on Bakura was Adanna Inviere. So, without much other choice, Corrie invited Adanna to join her for a thanksgiving celebration.

"Hey I'm gonna get sloshed at the Eerie for the thanksgiving. Wanna join?" Corrie had asked Adanna at the end of practice.

Adanna looked at her chrono. "Sure, why not."

So the pair were ensconced on barstools with a handful of other Hapans at Salis D'aar's--and Bakuras'--one and only Hapan bar. They hadn't talked much during the first. They'd made a couple of comments to each other during the second. They started the jokes during the third. The fighting began during the fourth. And now they were on the fifth drink.

"You know, I don't know why I always hated you," Corrie sobbed, "You're so great."

"So are you," a teary eyed Adanna said.

"I mean, why should we have ever not liked each other?" Corrie continued, heedless of the other blonde having said anything, "I mean we've both got our names on the Galactic Cup, right?"

"I know? We're like sisters or something," Adanna said.

"We totally are!" Corrie said.

"You know I'm the youngest of six. All girls."

"Oh Maker." Corrie buried her face in her hands. "How did you get out in one piece?"

"Are you kidding? I was the youngest. None of them took me seriously. Of course, it turned out none of them could play bolo-ball either."

"I had one sister and two brothers," Corrie said, "They were little snots."

"Men. What are they good for?"

"Nothing," another female Hapan said, raising a glass.

"Damn straight," Corrie said, "That's why I have a wolf."

"You know I've always been jealous of your wolf," Adanna said.

"I seem to recall that you called it stupid once," Corrie said, "so I'll take that as an apology."

"Bartender! More drinks! I have to give thanks for her wolf!" Adanna called out.

---

Office of Dr. Etie Calay, Salis D'aar, Bakura

"Before we begin, my son was shocked that you got us such good seats," Dr. Calay said.

"I never ask for tickets so when I do they get good ones. It's a perk of being a captain," Alana said.

"Really? We talked with some of the other beings in the section and they were friends or family of some of the other players. Don't any of yours come to games?" Dr. Calay said.

"My parents come maybe once a year. It's a long flight from where they live," Alana said.

"Where's that?"

"Ojai. It's in Watercrest, about 40 minutes from Cape Suzette."

"It wouldn't cost much to have them flown out for the game, especially given the fact you make 3 million credits a year, not to mention the endorsements I imagine you have," Dr. Calay said, "Why don't you?"

"Because the game's on the BBC. It just doesn't make much sense for my parents to fly all the way out here when they can watch on TV. It's not like I need them to be there to know they're proud of me. We're a close family. They come maybe once a year, for a big game," Alana said.

"What about friends? Don't you have any who come to games?"

"Not really. I mean, I have friends, but they don't live here," Alana said, "Let me explain before you think I'm a loser. Before I was a Miner, I hadn't lived here. When I came, I was a pro athlete. Beings treat you differently. You're not a normal person. It's hard to really be friends with someone. Almost everybody wants something from you."

"No, I understand. So would you say your only friends here are on the team?" Dr. Calay asked.

"They're the closest beings to me in Salis D'aar," Alana said, "We do everything together."

"Last week you said you weren't happy after the loss, even though you played well. This week was obviously another loss," Dr. Calay said.

Alana kept herself from saying, "Yeah, so a fat lot of good your therapy's doing me since I've lost two games since I started seeing you." Even if she kind of did want to say it.

"How did you feel about your play?" Dr. Calay continued.

"It was a tight game. No goals, just bar points. But you were there, I don't need to tell you that," Alana said.

"That's true. What I don't know is how you felt about it."

Alana sighed. "I wanted to win. I always want to win. I'm frustrated. I don't know what else to do. I'm giving it everything I have but we're still not winning."

"Alana, there are fourteen other players on the field. You don't have to do everything yourself," Dr. Calay said.

"I know, I know. But I'm the captain."

"Alana, you keep saying that. Over the course of our sessions you've consistently said that you feel there's a lot of responsibility on you as captain. That there are high expectations for you."

"There are," Alana said impatiently, "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"The way you talk about it, you make it sound like you're the only player on the team that matters, that if you don't try hard enough, the team won't win," Dr. Calay said.

"We won't. Cundertol told me that I'm key to the team, that this team was built around me. If I don't play well, I'm going to let everyone down," Alana said, growing angry, "Don't you get it? I have to do well for us to win."

"Isn't it possible that there might be other problems? That you might be playing your best and that this isn't your fault?"

"That's making excuses," Alana retorted, "That's what losers do."

"Alana, you're not sitting here saying, 'It's not me. I'm playing fine. Everybody else is playing bad. That's why we're losing.' You're doing the exact opposite and it's just as destructive. You're putting too much pressure on yourself. You need to loosen up," Dr. Calay said.

"Ha!" Alana barked, "Try loosening up with your archnemesis coming into town."

"I thought you and Ryi Kor'le had made up," the Omwati said.

"If not calling her names in the media is making up, then apparently the entire galaxy is all lovey dovey," Alana said, "When we go out on the pitch, it's total war. She's going to be gunning for me and I'm going to be coming for her. Plain and simple."

"So you think about this game a lot?"

"I know that Ryi steps up her game for me and I've got to do the same. It's just that simple."

"So once again you think that everything comes down to you."

"Only if I let Ryi have her way out there. She can destroy an offense. And just because she hasn't won yet doesn't mean that she's not dangerous," Alana said.

"Do you think you play better when you play her?" Dr. Calay asked.

Alana thought. "Usually. And I think she plays better too."

Dr. Calay nodded. "Alana, you put a lot of pressure on yourself. It's understandable. But I think it's hurting your game. You need to trust your teammates."

"I do."

"You need to trust them to do their jobs and play the best Limmie that they can. You need to focus on what you can control and that's your play."

"I do that already."

"But you do it in the wrong way. You think you're the only thing that is holding this team back, that every time you lose it's because of you. You need to focus on knowing that you did everything you could. I'm not asking you to stop caring whether you win or lose. That would be abandoning your team. But I am asking you to look at your game by controlling the controlables."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I know that the life of a Limmie player involves a lot of study, a lot of practice, and of course play on the field. I want you to focus on becoming the best midfielder on the Miners. Not just to be better than your teammates, but to know that there is nobody else in the galaxy who could play midfield for Bakura. I'm not talking about being the best midfielder in the galaxy, but the best one for your team. To learn the playbook inside and out, backwards and forwards. To execute them flawlessly in practice and then in game. If you do that, if you truly believe that you are the best midfielder on this team, then I think that you're going to get a lot more focus. And maybe you'll lose, but you'll know that it's not because you weren't good enough or you didn't try hard enough. It'll be because the other team was better."

"Or because everybody else on the Miners sucked," Alana said, "I don't want to think that way, Doc."

"That's not how you should think. As I see it, the best midfielder the Miners could have would work with her teammates to help them be better too. She can't make them play better, but she can do everything she can to be a supportive teammate and improve their game."

Alana, who a few minutes before had been nearly ready to boil over in anger, sat back in calm contemplation. And the truth was that Dr. Calay had made a pretty interesting suggestion. The redhead didn't say anything for a while as she thought it over.

"What do you think about all of that, Alana?" Dr. Calay asked after a while.

Alana didn't say anything for a second, but then she nodded. "I think I'll give it a try."

"We can talk about how things go next week," Dr. Calay said.

"And hopefully we'll be talking about how I ground Ryi into little pieces out there," Alana said, "You know, this'll probably be the biggest home game for us this season. Your son would probably like to go again."

"I'm sure he would."

"I'll arrange for tickets then," Alana said, "The Mercs are worth seeing for their chant thingy, even if they are a bunch of bucketheads."

"I've never been much for Mandalorian machismo but he'll probably like it," Dr. Calay said.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Alana said with a smile, "Your son...well, I'm working on it." She started to get up.

"One more thing before you go," Dr. Calay said, "I'd like to finish the session on a positive note. I think it would help your mental outlook. Is there something from the previous game that you specifically feel you did particularly well?"

"Sure there is," Alana said, her mouth growing into a wide grin.

---

Bakura Gardens, Salis D'aar, Bakura
Last week

Phil Brooks was darting up the field, his usual cocky self, bolo-ball in hand. His gait was so self-assured--no, more than that. It was smug. You could tell he could sense the goal. The Miners defense had stepped up this week to contain the Jets and he'd been frustrated. Those two rookies they'd gotten in the Draft, they'd been lit up the last two weeks. They shouldn't be playing this well, but now it seemed they were finding their footing in the pro game. Well he'd show them. He was the a Numifolis Award winner. He was the best forward in the Elite League. He was the best player in the entire galaxy. He was Phil Br--

BAM!

Alana hurled herself into Brooks and she brought the high flying Jet down to earth. As she tackled him, she chopped with her right arm and knocked the ball out of Brooks' grip causing him to fumble the ball, which was recovered by the Miners. The Miner fans cheered at the skilled defensive play. There was nobody that they liked to see get taken down so much as the obnoxious Jet.

Alana didn't say a word, but got to her feet and joined the play again. But as she did, she threw a look over her shoulder at Brooks. He was just glaring in her direction as he got up off the turf. It was a beautiful sight.

---

"See you next week, Doc."

"Good luck against the Mercs, Alana."

Tag: Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Reggie Dun'lop and Anita McCam - Nadiem Chiefs

Another tough loss...and at home.

The players weren't themselves at the practice the next day. Not only because of the loss, but the fact that there was a disturbing news report on the HoloNet that morning. Apparently the Chiefs owner, Anita McCam, had been contemplating selling the team.

That was the first time Reg had heard the news.

So the following day, Reggie headed over to Anita McCam's place just outside Char'les'town...to have a little chat.

"So, listen, Mrs. McCam... Some of the guys--"

"Anita," she corrected him.

Reg paused. "Anita," he repeated. "Some of us heard about the possibility of a sale on the HoloNet. We were just wondering what was happening."

"I had a feeling you'd show up asking that pretty soon." She motioned to a chair in the living room. "Have a seat." As the two of them sat down, Anita continued. "With Nadiem's current financial situation and the decline in attendance at the War Memorial, I feel it's time for me to move on."

Reg said, "Well, we've got some fresh blood on the team now, and the crowd-pleasing Hanson brothers... Even though it's a rebuilding year you won't have any trouble selling us."

"I could certainly get some interest, yes."

"That's great! That's great, Anita."

"But," she continued, "you have to understand that I couldn't make enough of a profit to make the sale worth while."

Reggie froze. He wasn't sure how to respond.

"My accountant tells me I'm better off folding the team and taking a tax loss," Anita explained.

"You...you mean you could sell us, but you won't?" Reg asked for clarification.

"I could probably sell you," she hesitated. "But I can't."

A million thoughts ran through Reggie's mind. That's probably why she didn't want to attend that Board meeting during the off-season. She was planning on getting out of limmie even back then. What the hell was going to happen to the team?

All he could say was, "You're frakked."

"What?"

"You're seriously frakked. You could sell us, but instead you're letting us all go down the drain. Some of us would even be willing to move to a different planet if it meant keeping this team together! We've all had to take a cut in salary this season just to keep things flowing. And you, one of the wealthiest broads on Nadiem is worried about not making enough profit?!"

Reggie stood up and stormed out of the building, but not before making a nasty remark about her kids (which can't be repeated here ).

"How DARE you!" she yelled at him as the door slid closed behind him.

TAG: anyone


(ooc: Sorry if this sounds familiar to anyone who's seen Slap Shot, but it fit the situation perfectly.)

 

IC: Marte Nalo
Location: Nalo home, Eusebus, Euceron
Time: Three days before Week 4 away game against Rough Riders

"You look like you've got something bothering you."

Leave it to a woman to cut right into his thoughts. Marte had been sitting on the couch, idly watching a zoomball game while reading a magazine, and Jaria had read him perfectly. There was, in fact, something bothering him. He put the magazine down, turned off the holoscreen, and turned to face his wife.

"It's my job," he said.

"What about your job? I thought you enjoyed it there."

"I do. But there's other things I want to enjoy as well. Two of them are asleep upstairs."

"You mean Tendra and Jado? I thought the whole point of you retiring from coaching was to spend more time with them."

"It was, but I'm still missing key moments. Jado's first limmie game, Tendra's first select game, it's just... I don't know. I thought the broadcasting job would leave me enough time to be with the kids, but the hours are so convoluted and fluid that I can't plan anything more than a couple days in advance. If the hours were more predictable and I had more flexibility, I don't think it would be a problem. But as it is now, with a constantly changing schedule and having requests for specific days off ignored... I don't know if it's worth it to keep working there when the kids are growing so fast."

"You could just retire. Completely this time. Enjoy seven-day weekends for the rest of your life. Force knows we have enough money for that."

"I haven't paid attention to our bank accounts, been leaving that to you. Last I remember, we had twenty-eight million when I left the Storm. How much of that's gone?"

"About negative five million."

Marte did a double take. "Negative five million? Where'd we come up with another five mil?"

Jaria chuckled. "Somewhere between your HSN salary, smart investing, and living on a middle-class family's budget."

Marte chuckled as well. "Yeah, I guess that would account for it. So what do you think? Should I retire?"

"You'll have to make that call. I can't make that decision for you."

"I know, but what would you do if you were in my shoes?"

"I probably wouldn't have taken the broadcasting job in the first place."

"You're not helping me."

"I really don't know, Marte. I've never been in your position and thus can't properly analyze it. You're the only one who can. How many vacation weeks do you get?"

"Three. Why the sudden change of subject?"

"I'm not changing the subject. Why don't you take a vacation week or two, spend the time at home with the kids, and see how you feel then? Maybe you'll miss the job. Maybe you'll be glad to get away and stay home. That feeling could help you decide which way to go."

"That would be nice, but I'm not allowed to take vacation during the pro limmie season."

Jaria frowned, then came over and sat down on the couch next to Marte. "Well then, honey, just think about it over the next few days. That's really all I can say for now."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Take it a day at a time and see how things work out." Jaria noticed the article that Marte's magazine was open to. "Are they ever going to ban Podracing here again?"

"I've given up trying to figure that out. This is something like the fifth push to outlaw it in three years. HSN has quit covering it; Cado told me that they'll cover it if and only if it's actually outlawed."

"How many more pilots have to die before they get the point?"

"The lawmakers seem to think that it's not their place to stop pilots from risking their own life if they want to."

Jaria took a deep breath, swallowing a rude comment, then let out an exasperated sigh. "Whatever. I'm sick of arguing about it. I'm going to bed."

"Be up there in a few minutes."

TAG: Nobody

 

IC: Setarcos Rhemes
Press Conference, the Grande Villa

Since the start of the season Setarcos had not held a post match press conference like he had in seasons past. Today, seeing as the Monarchs had finally won, that he would meet with the galactic media. But even as he took up his seat behind the mic he still looked down trodden. Everyone in the room sat quiet, waiting for Setarcos to start things off, but it took several minutes before he said anything.

Finally he broke the silence.

“You know what the funny thing about limmie is? Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good. Today we were lucky, we went up against a Merc team that was trying something new. We did that last year and it almost worked out for us, until it all fell apart leading up to the Galactic Cup playoffs.”

Setarcos paused for a moment and took a drink from his water glass. Before anyone could ask a question he continued on.

“But gods damn it, my players played out their heart. They gave everything they had! They played up to the MAXIMUM of their ability! They gave it everything! And you know, it wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t good enough for me, wasn’t good enough for you, wasn’t good enough for anybody!”

The majority of the starters filtered into the room and stood off to the side.

“Being perfect is not about that scoreboard out there. It's not about winning. It's about you and your relationship with yourself, your family and your friends. Being perfect is about being able to look your friends in the eye and know that you didn’t let them down because you told them the truth. And that truth is you did everything you could. There wasn’t one more thing you could've done. Can you live in that moment as best you can, with clear eyes, and love in your heart, with joy in your heart?”

He looked over at his players and started to get choked up.

“If you can do that - you're perfect!”

Tears started rolling down his cheeks.

“There's two words I never thought I would say: I quit!”

All of the air seemed to get sucked out of the room as all the occupants took in a collective gasp. All of the reporters started talking at the same time drowning out each other. Setarcos put a hand up to try and calm the room.

“I am stepping down as Head Coach, but will continue on in my duties as General Manager. Offensive Coordinator Greebus Ion will fill the role of Head Coach in the interim until we find a suitable replacement. Thank you, that will be all.”

With that he stood up and walked out of the room for the last time as Head Coach of the Rydonni Prime Monarchs.

TAG: Trieste, Bardan_Jusik, Liam_Vehn

 

IC: Jimmi Morryss
[i[Thyferra Stadium at Byree Clearing[/i]

Jimmi walked onto the field with the rest of the Force for pregame warmups. The crowd was starting to file in, most of the fans dressed in the light and dark blue. Although the stadium seemed rather small compared to others he had seen on the HoloNet, he had finally made it as a player. What a momentous feeling this was, finally getting to play on the Elite League stage in front of billions of people around the galaxy.

“Hey, old man, you all right?” Riff asked.

“It’s . . . beautiful . . .” Jimmi said, staring off into an empty section of bleachers.

“Yeah, it’s quite the sight,” Riff replied. “Wait until things get going. Then it’ll get even better.”

Jimmi began to warm up. As he stretched out his legs, he found himself next to several high-profile Thyferra players. None of them really paid him any attention, but that was to be expected. He was a new guy, and thus he was on the outside looking in. It would take some time for them to get used to his presence.

---

Jimmi walked over to the sideline with the other reserve players right before the game began. Some of them took a seat on the bench, but he decided to stay on his feet. There would be plenty of time for him to sit later; he doubted that he was even going to see action during the game. He had been signed for depth, but only to fill a roster spot. A training camp body, and no one important; that was his role. But he didn’t really care; the whole atmosphere was electric to him. The crowd was getting into it as the game was ready to begin, and the players were stoked. It was time to go, and Jimmi was loving every minute of it.

“Jimmi! Jimmi Morryss!” came a voice. A very familiar voice. Jimmi looked up. His wife and son were hanging over the railing on the Force sideline. Jimmi found a table and jumped on to it. Although his head didn’t quite get above the railing that separated the seating area from the bench area, he could see his family looking back down at him.

“Hey Dad,” his son, Hunter, said to him. The kid was 9 years old, and was rather impressionable. He had picked up a love for Limmie from Jimmi, even trying out for his school team the year before. He hadn’t made it, but that hadn’t killed his enthusiasm for the game.

“Hey kiddo,” Jimmi said.

“Go kick some butt, OK?” Hunter asked with that big grin of his.

“All right,” Jimmi replied. He then jumped back off the table and rejoined his teammates on the sideline. The game was ready to begin.

---

The score was lopsided in favor of the Force as time was running out in the game. Jimmi had seen everyone else on the bench go out and play some minutes, but he remained. The starters were coming back to the bench area, smiles on their faces. Riff, who had scored about a dozen points by Jimmi’s estimation, was laughing it up with Maff Biskis and Zadd, who both had kept the Smuggler goalie on her toes the entire game.

Coach Korthe slapped Riff on the back as he passed. “That’s how you do it!” she said to her All-Star player.

“Thanks, Coach,” Riff said.

Then Pamila looked over to her bench. Jimmi was still sitting on the end, wrapped up in his jacket. Although it wasn’t cold on Thyferra, Limmie players had to stay limber, and thus they would wear jackets to keep their muscles warm. “Morryss! Start warming up!” she yelled.

Jimmi’s ears perked up. He tossed his jacket onto the ground and picked up a bolo-ball. With the help of one of the trainers, he began to play catch. His blood was really pumping now; Coach wouldn’t tell him to warm up if he wasn’t going to play . . . right? After about two minutes, Jimmi paused. The crowd roared as another Force score went up on the board, and Korthe turned around again. “Morryss! You’re in!” she yelled.

Time seemed to slow down for Jimmi. He was going to get to play in an Elite League game. All his life, he had dreamed of this moment . . . and now he would get to fulfill it. Dropping the practice ball on the ground, he ran forward and onto the field.

“Go get ‘em, old-timer!” Riff yelled at his back. Jimmi ran out onto the field as a substitute for Mychele Lysar, the team captain.

When he came in, the announcer said: “Substituting in for Mychele Lysar, in his Elite League debut, is Jimmi Morryss! “ Cheers came down from the crowd as Jimmi trotted out to join his teammates on the pitch. Boggs Campbell, Lynn Stiles, Paz and Dypral looked at him as he approached.

“Let’s bring this home,” Boggs said before fanning out to his starting position.

Jimmi settled in at his Full Forward position. As such, he was lined up nearly in front of the Smuggler goal box. As the Mon Calamari goalie put the ball in play, Jimmi’s head shot back to follow it. In the middle of the field, Tonga Rute, the reserve midfielder, made a spectacular play and caused a fumble. Villie Bywash grabbed the ball and tossed it up into the offensive zone for the Force. Jimmi seemed almost glued to his spot; he didn’t know many plays in the playbook, so he was going to have to wing it. The Smugglers’ full back settled in near him, which made Jimmi a little nervous. What was he going to do now?

Boggs took the pass and made a pump fake in Lynn’s direction. The Smuggler defender whiffed, leaving Boggs open. He then chucked it over to Dypral, who then gave it over to Paz on the perimeter. The Rodian was checking for options, and Jimmi knew what he needed to do. He came out and presented himself as a target. The ball then settled into his hands. It felt odd to finally have an official league ball in his hands, and Jimmi was awestruck. But he was snapped out of his stupor when he heard footsteps behind him. Ducking, he was able to avoid a tackle, and was then left all alone with the goalie. Everything seemed to flash before him now: his childhood spent dreaming that he was scoring the game-winning goal to seal the Galactic Cup title, his college career that had pegged him as a can’t-miss prospect, the minor league games, his horrific injury that cut his career short, the rehab and the doctors telling him he could never play Limmie again with his surgically-repaired arm, his teaching chemistry at Big Lake High, the Owl Hawks winning District last season for the first time in so long, the tryouts, Winter ball, and now this. And now he was staring down an Elite League goaltender with a ball in his hand. It was just like all those times he had envisioned this exact scenario. Then he had had rocks to throw against a fence; now he had a bolo-ball, with a real net and a screaming crowd. It was glorious.

Jimmi ran forward, even though he seemed to be mentally paralyzed by this moment. It’s like his body, and not his mind, knew what to do here. His legs churned forwards, and then he felt his arm go back. That felt good, it really did. Then, picking his spot in the lower left corner of the net, he pushed all energy he had into his release. Grunting, he released a flamethrower of a shot at the net. The ball skipped onto the ground and then screamed into the net past Pemiti’s fingers. Goal Jimmi Morryss. The crowd went wild for the Force’s score, but Jimmi couldn’t believe it. He had scored a goal in the Elite League. His teammates congratulated him on the great play, but Jimmi’s mind was in the clouds. He had done it.

---

Jimmi left the locker room dressed in his blue sport suit, the one that he never wore and had until the day before been sitting in the back of his closet. However, instead of concrete walls surrounding him, it was reporters. “Jimmi! Can we interview you?” shouted one reporter.

“Uh . . .” Jimmi said. “Sure. Go for it.”

“What was going through your mind when you took that shot on goal?”

“I wanted to throw it as hard as I could,” Jimmi replied. “It’s a fastball. All I was thinking was fastball, fastball and . . . well . . . fastball. So I got it out fast, and it went into the net. I couldn’t be happier to get a goal in front of my family.”

“So, how does it feel to get this win today?” another reporter asked.

“Uh, could you excuse me for a second?” Jimmi asked. In the corner, out of the swarm of reporters, was his father. A career Army man, his father had been stationed all over the galaxy. It had made growing up tough for young Jimmi, since he never had any real home for too long.

“Jimmi,” his father said.

“Sir,” Jimmi replied.

“I have to say, that was a hell of a game,” his father said.

“Thanks,” Jimmi replied in a plain tone.

“Well, I’ll be off now,” his father said. He turned to leave.

“Hey . . . Dad,” Jimmi said. His father turned around to face him. Jimmi opened his jacket pocket and tossed the older Morryss a small bolo-ball. It wasn’t full-size, but it was large enough to catch easily. “Keep it.”

“Thank you,” his father said.

Further down the hall, Jimmi could see his family waiting for him. He gave his wife a hug, and then gave Hunter a high-five.

“It’s good you two came,” Jimmi said.

“Well, we weren’t alone,” his wife said. From behind her came fifty people, most of them townsfolk from the town where Jimmi lived. Several of his players from the high school team came out as well. And the town was able to celebrate their now-famous son’s success on the field. It may have seemed like a bit part in a masterpiece, but to Jimmi Morryss, it meant the galaxy.

 

GM Post

Bonus rolls to Bakura, Euceron, Mando'ade, Nadiem, Nar Shaddaa, Rydonni Prime, and Thyferra.

Week 4 Results

Mando’ade Mercs at Bakura Miners (0-24)
Euceron Storm at Ryloth Rough Riders (14-31)
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers (35-3)
Nadiem Chiefs at Thyferra Force (22-0)
Vandelhelm Jets at Onderon Crazy Dragons (31-16)

Tag: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja Dubya_Scott jcgoble3 JediMaster_1977 Jedi Gunny Liam_Vehn Teegirloo

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Bakura Gardens

Taab scowled under his buy'ce in disgust. Each week the anemic offense seemed to have gotten worse, until now they had been shut out and outscored by a huge margin. It was embarassing, and now there were bigger issues to worry about. If they didn't start winning soon the ELL may decide to demote them to the PLL and bring in some hotshot team from that league or the GCLA. He knew the old Bothan chakaar would relish the thought of ridding herself of him and the issues he caused off the field.

Here at the Gardens he had also witnessed something he never thought he would during a meshgeroya match. Mando'ade leaving the game early. The Mercs always travelled well to opposing stadiums, being nomadic there were Mandalorians to be found in nearly every corner of the Galaxy so it was no surprise that many would take in a game when their "hometown" team was in the area.

This matchup had been no exception, though perhaps the numbers had been fewer than last previous years. But halfway through the second half, Taab had taken note of them leaving in droves. His spies back on manda'yaim had informed him of overheard conversations of season ticket holder stating their own interest to not attend their allotment of home games.

By itself that was troubling, but not catastrophic. The season had been sold out not long after tickets went on sale. But if the holders of those tickets didn't attend their games than the Meshla Vhetin would lose out on concession revenue. It was a horrible expense for Taab keeping the huge stadium running. Without those cash streams it made it all the more difficult. If attendence dropped this year it would probably have a negative affect on sales of tickets next year further cutting into team revenue. And all coming at a time when the entire starting offense, including all-star forward Ry' Kor'le, were in their contract year.

Taab shook his head se he opened up a comm channel to both the head coach and GM of the team. Something would have to be done. They had come so far into the season wiith this new system that changing it now would be ineffective. Still a message would have to be sent. Though the offense had not played well it wasn't their fault enirely. Arick Vau had looked overwhelmed at the midfield position this year. He was supposed to be the next big thing, a rocket arm and a ton of talent but he hadn't lived up to that hype thus far. His blunders meant that the offense rarely got their hands on the ball. Yes the changes would begin there, a change at goaltender should also happen as well. If things didn't show signs of improvement they would continue on with even more changes. Then again things had to improve, they could hardly get any worse. Could they?

---

IC: Ryi Kor'le
Visitors Locker Room, Bakura Gardens

So this was rock bottom in the ELL. Shutout on the road at your fiercest rival in the midst of a winless season. Kor'le stared blankly into ther locker, not even bothering to remove her plates or jersey just yet. Glancing around she could see most of the other veteran players doing much the same thing. They had never gone through something like this before. Sure they had missed the playoffs the past two seasons, but they had always been a tough team. What was going on? What had happened to them? What was different?

She knew who most of the long term Mercs blamed for it, even if they didn't say it. The aruetii. Putting them wholesale into games was proving to be a mistake. It was supposed to give their opponents a change of pace to worry about. Instead it just prevented the Mercs from developing the necessary rhythem for winning meshgeroya. She hated to say it but she knew in her heart that this was a huge part of the problem. But it wasn't all of it.

The Mercs offense hadn't played well all season. But this shutout had been embarassing, Kor'le hadn't even touched the ball. As they had all season the Mercs had been beaten at the midfield. However today had been worse. Vau in particular had been absolutley dominated by Glencross. Kor'le had prepared a number of insults to throw at her red headed rival but had never had a chance to fling even one of them. It was as if they weren't even on the same pitch.

Vau had made things no easier. He had yapped throughout the game, but backed up none of it. According to the gameplan his role had been simple. Matchup with Glencross, sit in her back pocket and frustrate her at every opportunity. He had the raw athletic ability to do it, but unfortunatly it had worked in the reverse. Instead it seemed like she had gotten in his head and was playing games with him. And just where was their first year Midfielder anyway? She expected him to be staring into his locker as everyone else was doing, or at the very least staring down one of the backups as he seemed to be fond of doing. But he was no where to be found. She stood up, looking towards the doorway. maybe he was still out on the field for some reason?

A slamming door behind her caught her attention, and when she turned around she saw Vau stalking out of the coach's office. Heading for his own locker he started walking faster and faster as he removed his plates from under his jersey. Jogging now as he approached his locker he swung the plates in both hands and started beating the locker with them. "shabla, Glencross Shab, shab, SHAB!" He continued screaming as he beat his locker into submission.

Too bad he couldn't have landed such a hit on the Bakuran midfielder during the game Kor'le thought to her self. It may not have made a difference in the game but it sure would have been satisfying. She looked down towards Coach Kal's office but he hadn't emerged, instead he had called rookiee midfielder Mor'kesh into his office. Looks like it was team captain time. Coming up behind the distraught midfielder Ryi finally spoke out. "Ok rook, what is it? We lost, big. But no reason to take it out like this." But Vau was having none of it. He kept beating the now horribly deformed locker as he explained, screaming. "osikla coach demoted me. Team Aruetii for me."

Kor'le looked around, the entire team was looking at them. Vau dropped the plates to the ground, and suddenly you could hear a blade drop in the locker room. "Ok, this is for everyone. I gotta say, this is as bad as I have ever seen it. We can't score, and we haven't won. We could all take it out on out lockers. We could blame the refs who seem to dislike our rough style. Or we could blame the schedule makers who had us start with four straight games on the road. We can blame the new system, that we have all struggled to learn, mando'ade and aruetii alike. Or we can sit here and blame each other. Manda knows there is more than enough blame to go around during this losing streak."

She had all of their attention now, even Coach Kal and Mor'kesh had emerged from the office and were listening. "But I say we forget about blame, forget about winning and forget about even having fun out there. The rest of our games are at home. In front of our own fans. It is time to play for pride. For ours and theirs."

The rest of the team seemed to take that in. There was no "rah rah" moment like one saw in the holo-vids. Just a quiet determination that spread throughout the team. Vau stodd up and asked her quietly "yeah, and what about me?" She felt sorry for him. He had come into the season as a favorite to win rookiee of the year, now he was being demoted to second string. "You play for your own pride. But for you have something else to worry about."

"Yah? Like What?"

"Like packing for mandayaim."

TAG: Trieste

 

Player Movement:

Mando'ade Mercs promote:

Mij Katan (human, Mandalorian, male) Goaltender from reserves to starter.
Argo Mor'kesh (human, Mandalorian, male) Midfielder from reserves to starter

Mando'ade Mercs demote:

Kii Skirata (human, Mandalorian, female) Goaltender from starter to reserves
Arick Vau (human, Mandalorian, male) Midfielder from starter to reserves.

 

IC: Alana Glencross
Office of Dr. Etie Calay, Salis D'aar, Bakura

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Alana said in the office of her therapist, "I think we can safely say I met my goal of being the best Miner midfielder out there. I also blew right past that goal and was the best midfielder on the pitch, period. Yeah!"

"Congratulations, Alana. It was an excellent game," Dr. Calay said, "It was quite an exciting game."

"Oh yeah, we all had it going on. I mean their offense barely even touched the ball in the game. We were that dominant. And you just don't do that against the Mercs. Not even 0-3 Mercs. And Ryi. She played bad. I mean really bad. This has got to be a low point for her since joining the league. I mean I was there two years ago. 0-4. Not pretty. Not pretty at all. Heads start to roll when that happens," Alana said, "But hey, we've finally had a decent start to the season for a change. Now we just need to finish like we've done the last two years and we're in good position."

"Playoffs," Dr. Calay stated.

"Yeah, though talking about the playoffs after 4 weeks is a pretty big no-no. People get superstitious."

"Yes, professional athletes tend to have rituals and superstitions. Do you have any?"

"Nah. I have a routine, but that's part of pro sports. You need to be able to get yourself in the zone and regularity is part of how you do that. Ah, but you wonderful being!" Alana exclaimed, "I gotta say, I was skeptical at first, but you came through. I'm cured!"

"Alana--"

"I feel better than I ever have about my play. Better than the MVP season, better than just about any game in the last two years," Alana continued.

"Alana--"

"I'm riding a hot hand and that's all I need to really get going this season."

"Alana, this isn't about being cured or fixed. This is about handling the issues in your life so you can focus on Limmie," Dr. Calay said.

"No, I came here because I wasn't performing well on the field and now I am. It's that simple," Alana insisted.

"I think that we've found a really good way for you to focus on your game and not get too wrapped up in your responsibilities, a way for you to act as a member of a team and not feel like you have to shoulder everything," Dr. Calay explained patiently, "but I don't think that we've addressed all of your issues."

"Oh really," Alana said incredulously. She crossed her arms and sat back. "Tell me what other 'issues' I have in my life."

"Well, in our last session we talked about your personal relationships, or perhaps more appropriately your lack thereof," Dr. Calay said.

"Right. I don't have many friends in town so obviously something's wrong with me," Alana said with a roll of her eyes.

"The implicit point you're making there isn't necessarily true, you're right," Dr. Calay said, "but it seems very clear to me that you grew up in a house and a community where you had a lot of friends and a very supportive family."

"Yeah, so what," Alana said.

"When you come to Salis D'aar you are losing access to those relationships at precisely the time when it is most important for you to have a strong support network," Dr. Calay said, "You've talked about the stress to perform during the season, but yet you also said that your parents only come to one game a year at most."

"We talk on the Holonet. I'm not a shut in," Alana insisted.

"That helps but it doesn't mean that it's enough for you," Dr. Calay pursued, "I think that you need more of a support network here in Salis D'aar. I think it could help provide a long term solution to giving you a strong, solid base to ground you when you're playing Limmie."

"We went over this last session," Alana sighed in frustration, "It's hard for me to make real friends here. People want something from you when you're famous. I have the team. That's enough of a support network for me."

"I disagree. They're subject to the same pressures you are during the season. While you do need to link arms through your shared burden and struggles, it doesn't mean that they can provide you with all of the support you need."

"Okay, let's assume you're right, that I do need to make friends. How am I supposed to do that as Alana Glencross? I mean for Maker's sake, this hair--" she pointed to her mane, "--alone is going to tip off most people to who I am. I'm pretty recognizable."

"None of your friends from Ojai have moved to Salis D'aar have they?" Dr. Calay asked, "Rekindling an old friendship may be more natural than making a new one, even if you are famous now."

"No, nobody's--" Alana stopped. "Well, that's not true. I've run into Niall Kirt a few times. I told him I could hook him up with tickets but he never took me up on it."

"And you knew Niall back home?"

"We went to high school together. We had some classes here and there. We weren't too close, but we knew each other."

"That could be a start," Dr. Calay offered.

"But he's an average guy. Beings always think, 'I'd love to date someone famous,' but they never think about living your life where everyone's watching, where everybody knows you, where the only privacy you have comes courtesy of locked doors. I mean, you have to be careful going out because everybody knows you and people get crazy around celebrities," Alana said, "Ordinary beings don't know how to handle that. It's why famous beings marry each other."

"So maybe you should make friends with other famous beings?" Dr. Calay suggested.

"Ugh," Alana sneered, "Most of them are idiots."

The Omwati tapped the armrest of her chair. "Well, I have an idea. Perhaps I could introduce you to someone?"

"If you insist," Alana sighed. Really, she just wanted to get the shrink to give up this idea that she needed friends. I mean, she'd done everything from the last session and she was winning. Wasn't that enough?

"I'll make some inquiries and we'll talk about it next week before you head on the road," Dr. Calay said.

"Sure, sounds great. Anything else?" Alana asked.

"No, that'll do it for today," Dr. Calay said with a smile, "Congratulations again on a great game."

"Thanks. Now here's to doing it again."

Tag: Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Vincent Cutter

General Manager’s Office, Nar Shaddaa

The past two weeks had been miserable.

The Nar Shaddaa Smugglers had absolutely forgotten how to score, how to play defense, and simply how to be a championship caliber team. They had been upstaged by the Thyferra Force embarrassingly handing Pam Korthe her only win of the season. Then last week the Rydonni Prime Monarchs, hell bent on revenge, had taken the Smuggler to town in their own house in one of the worst home performances in recent memory. The season had gone from bad to worse. Suddenly, losing Meredith Chambers could be viewed in the incredibly depressing light of a total collapse as the highlight of the year.

Cutter should’ve paid attention to history. The team, historically, struggled after a championship run. In 267, the team had won the Cup. The next year they turned in a 2-6 clunker. Fast forward three years later and the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers of 271 had dug themselves an 0-2 conference hole and a 1-2 record. They were in a race to the basement, a race for the first round pick of the 271 draft. Of course, that left the Mando’ade Mercs who were appearing uncharacteristically weak this year, in first place for that particular contest.

Tanking the season wasn’t what Cutter wanted. But now that things appeared to be headed south for the year, only four games in, well, he had to take a realistic look at what the Limmie pitch was giving him. Right now, the development of the younger players was crucial. They needed more game reps, more experience, and the only way to make that happen was to keep them in the system. Darkrider had shown flashes, so had Edwards, but they were making so many mistakes that the fans were already labeling them draft busts. Cutter knew better than to fall for that sort of sensationalism. Not everyone could be a Rhia Grames, Tan Strensky, or Meredith Chambers. Some people had to grow into their role and they would develop in a system.

There were several bonuses to the Smugglers season, however, and one of which was stability at head coach. Luc Everoux had done a terrific job in his three years as head coach, winning two Galactic Cups in decisive fashion, and encouraging innovation from his coordinators. For once, the Smugglers had seemed to do something right and it all started with the man at the top. The other bonus was that the Smugglers were all set to renovate Six Boroughs Stadium, give the old girl a makeover. The renovations wouldn’t start until 271 wrapped up but at least now there was a durracrete plan to make the facility safe, modern, and more aesthetically pleasing.

A knock disturbed him from his quiet analysis of one of the galaxy’s most storied franchises. A fin slipped around the door and the bulbous head of the Mon Calamari goalkeeper Gunba Pemiti peered into his office.

“Enter,” Cutter said with a smile. He had been expecting Pemiti. Knew that she was deeply embarrassed by the last two weeks, knew that she wanted to explain herself, and so he would let her.

“Mr. Cutter, thanks for seeing me,” Pemiti began.

“Sit down, Gunba, sit down,” Cutter gestured as he took a seat.

After both had stared at one another for a few seconds, Pemiti cleared her throat and said, “I think you know why I’m here, sir.”

“If you want to resign, forget it. I want you back in that net, Gunba. You’re the only fish I trust right now,” Cutter said.

“But sir I’m doing a horrible job out there,” Pemiti protested.

“Last I checked there were other players on this squad who also are on the defensive unit,” Cutter said.

“Yes, but,”

“Our losses have been team losses. Poor execution, sloppy preparation, and inexperience. We’ve got two rookies at very crucial positions on the field. They’re like swinging gates the way they play. Anyone could get past them,” Cutter lamented.

“So you aren’t going to fire me?”

“Why would I do that? The sky may be falling all around us but we’re not going to lie down and take it. No, we’re going to stand tall and work our way through these problems. We’ve got a hot team next week in Ryloth and then a difficult stretch against the
Mercs and the Miners to wrap up the season. We play the way we know how to play and we’ll win some games,” Cutter said.

“I wish Chambers was here,” Gunba groaned.

“So do I. But I seem to remember before Meredith Chambers there was a young Mon Calamari goalkeeper named Gunba Pemiti who could hold her own against the league’s best. She helped make the Smugglers defense something to be worried about. I believe she can do that still. We need a leader back there, Gunba. That is why we are losing. We need some leadership.”

Gunba nodded and seemed to smile. “Thanks, sir. Thank you for believing in me.”

“You need to believe in yourself, Gunba, and everything will work out,” Cutter said.

Gunba seemed to appreciate the warm words and left the office. Cutter leaned back in his chair, looked out at the brilliant skyline of the Vertical City.

No, the sky isn’t falling yet.

 

IC: Reggie Dunlop, Qatak Lemieux, Jo Mu Grath - Nadiem Chiefs

After an incredible win on the road against the Thyferra Force, the Chiefs made a pit-stop back on Nadiem before heading to face their next opponent in another "away" game. During the brief stop on their home planet, Reg and a few of the players did interviews with the Chiefs HoloNet analyst Dickie'Dunn. Other players made appearances for autograph signings. And the cheerleaders had dance performances lined up. It was all an attempt to draw more attention to the last home game in a couple weeks.

If things didn't pick up soon......

The night before the team left the planet to continue their road trip, the GM Jo Mu Grath sat in his office finalizing some paperwork and other important documents. The door to his office slid open and the back-up (reserve) goaltender, Qatak Lemieux, walked in.

"Jo," Qatak said.

"What is it?" Grath said without even looking up.

"Who own da team?" Qatak asked in his broken Galactic Basic.

"Owns. Owns," Grath corrected him, putting an emphasis on the "s" sound.

"Owns. Owns," Qatak repeated with the same emphasis.

There was a pause, then Grath said, "I don't know."

"Thanks." Qatak left the office in a huff, not satisfied with the answer.

As the goalkeeper left the office and headed down the corridor, Reggie stopped him. "Well, what'd he say?"

"He doesn't know."

"How d'ya ask him?"

"I say, who own da team?"

"And what did he say?" Reg asked him again.

"Owns! Owns!" Qatak repeated again, emphasis and everything.

"Ah, come on!" Reggie looked down at the door to the office. "He's gotta be in talks with somebody about buying the team, but he's telling me the same thing. He doesn't know. We can just fold."

Qatak said, "Trade me right frakking now! First I lose my starter spot, now I have no job. I hate it here. All this dirt and desert and bad-smelling farm. Make me puke! Blauughh! Like dat! Puke!"

"You're a goalie," Reg said sarcastically. "You're supposed to be like that." He watched the Tarro goalkeeper walk down the hall away from him mumbling something in his native tongue. Probably curse words.

Reggie looked back at the office door. What the hell was going to happen to the team...

TAG: anyone...

 

IC: Alana Glencross
Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura
Game day

The last home game of the regular season and still two games to go after this. It was going to be a hard slog to end. Of course, the entire conference wasn’t looking like it was going to have a very pretty year. Everybody on the Miners knew that it was going to be hand-to-hand combat to finish this off. Alana hadn’t run the math, but she knew that the Mercs at 0-4 overall and 0-2 in the conference had likely played themselves out of the playoff race. Then again, at just 2-2 the Miners could easily miss the playoffs if they lost out themselves.

But the here and now was a depleted Rydonni Prime team that had hurt this season from the loss of their veterans, the players who had powered them to a Commissioner’s Trophy. Reserves, rookies, and anybody else that they could find were on the field for the Monarchs these days. And one week after playing Vau into the ground, resulting in demotion to the reserves, Alana had been up to face Dawn Solo. Too bad she was now Captain Solo of the Republican Fleet. Of course, considering how fierce the fighting had been with blue chip prospect Gayla Renhorn, a young player eager to prove herself in the Elite League, things could get a little ugly with yet another inexperienced midfield corps eager to prove themselves in the Elite League.

With their team in the playoff hunt and fresh off a victory against a team that frankly nobody on Bakura liked, the fans rose as their team hit the field, Alana in the lead as captain. It felt good to receive this sort of welcome, but Alana knew that it had to continue to be earned. The Miners had disappointed all too often in the last few seasons. That needed to stop and the only way Alana could do that was by being the best midfielder she could be.

It had rained intermittently all day on Bakura and there was a light mist falling now as the two teams entered the arena. There was no Truce Day game this year due to the scheduling, but the stadium had put out its gold and blue bunting today despite the dreary drizzle. It wasn’t the most festive air, but Alana gave them credit for trying.

As the teams lined up for the national anthems, Alana picked up on a difference. There was a pause in the usually smooth pregame flow. Alana leaned forward from the line of the Miners and looked around and found her answer.

Politics.

It was never just Limmie on Bakura. Not when the Noble House owned them. And with an election closing in, Kerry Trieste never could resist.

“Gentlebeings, please welcome Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, Kerry Trieste, to the field,” the public address announcer said.

Though Trieste had not been universally popular as Prime Minister (for those who needed any evidence, there was the small matter of a civil war started on her watch—not to mention finished), now that she was on Coruscant, the highest-posted Bakuran ever in galactic government, she was at least publicly supported and applauded. The Miner fans rose in applause as Trieste took the field in a dark blue coat and yellow scarf with a wave to the crowd. Alana had to give her credit—in the middle of what was shaping up to be a real blockbuster of a General Election Trieste still showed for Miner games when that time could be well spent campaigning on key planets.



“Today the Bakura Miners organization and Noble House of Trieste wish to pause in recognition of active and retired servicemembers , especially those currently serving with the Second and Fourth Republican Fleets in the Unknown Regions as part of Operation Stalwart. This includes members of the Rydonni Prime Monarchs currently fulfilling their reserve duty. On behalf of citizens of the Republic throughout the galaxy, we thank you today for your service.”

Trieste was shaking hands with members of the Monarchs. It made for a good photo op, that was for sure. Chancellor Trieste, rising above partisanship, or at least that was the message that such a holo would try to communicate to the galaxy. If Kerry Trieste could be cordial to a rival Limmie team surely she’d be able to govern across the political spectrum in her second term too.

But Alana did have some respect for the Monarchs who’d given up millions in credits this year to go serve. The redhead was sure they could have gotten good lawyers and discovered loopholes to get them out of their reserve contracts, but they didn’t. That took morality and commitment beyond that of ordinary beings. Alana applauded as the crowd did so as well.

And then Alana heard something she’d never expected to hear at Bakura Gardens. Ever since the Civil War, a war she’d watched as a teenager unfold nightly on the Holonet, Kerry Trieste had carefully managed the Miners, her prized asset, to encourage reconciliation between the former Maple Flag Republic and her Federal Union. Truce Day celebrations usually involved nods to both sides in the War. Last year they’d even played the Maple anthem “O Bakura”. General Shi, the great tactician that had led the Maple Army, was a frequent visitor and usually exchanged a handshake with Trieste (even if they sat in opposite boxes).

So it was with great surprise that a song swelled in the stands, a song of the Federal Union, one that Alana knew well. Except this time it was in support of the Republic.

“Yes we'll rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom,
We will rally from the hillside, we'll gather from the plain,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom!”

The Bakurans on the team knew it well and they were looking at each other, though more to the point they were looking at Coach Valerii and Alana. There’d never been an official directive from the team as to handling the sensitive matter of mended fences since the war. Alana looked at Gaeriel and they shared a look. Valerii was a Union girl.

So Alana started singing.

“And we'll fill our vacant ranks with a million freemen more,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom!
While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom!”

The team, those who knew the words and sympathized with the Union cause, joined in. The non-Bakurans just looked at each other, smiled, and shrugged their shoulders. Dorf and Adanna looked at each other as if to say, “Bakurans, what are you going to do?” Corrie Anderson, wrapped an arm around Aron Rodders, born and raised in Salis D’aar, and followed his lead, pretty much only belatedly throwing a “battle cry for freedom” in.

As Alana looked up and down the line, she saw that Everett North was very pointedly not singing but instead looking straight ahead. It was a reminder that not everyone had forgotten the war. However, despite all her careful work over the years, the Chancellor seemed to be enjoying the patriotic outburst from her hometown crowd in support of her war against Yssenn.

“The Union forever! Hurrah, boys, hurrah!
Down with the traitor, up with the star;
While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom!”

Tag: CPL_Macja

 

IC: Marte Nalo
Location: Nalo home, Eusebus, Euceron
Time: Five days before Week 5 away game against Jets

Jaria had just closed the dishwasher when the door to the garage slammed shut, followed by cursing. She walked in that direction to see what was going on and quite literally ran into her husband, setting off another string of profanity from his mouth, this time directed at her.

"Get out of my kriffing way! That frakking wall was bad enough! I don't need you contributing to the problem!"

"Calm down, Marte. What are you even talking about?"

Recalling his anger management classes from years past, Marte took a deep breath, counted to ten, and sat down before responding. "I had a wall fall on me at work."

"Huh?" Jaria was completely confused. "What do you mean, a wall fell on you?"

"What else do you think? I was sitting at the anchor desk doing SportsCenter, and the wall behind me that holds the backdrop fell on me."

Jaria's jaw dropped. "On a live broadcast?"

"Yes."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm going to have a lump the size of the Death Star on the back of my head, but otherwise yes."

"Are you sure you don't have a concussion?"

"Paramedics said they don't see any signs of one."

"What happened to the broadcast?"

"They switched to a long commercial break, then spent the remainder of the hour simulcasting HSNEWS."

Jaria took a deep breath and exhaled. At least her husband wasn't too badly hurt, but she had been noticing something that she wanted to talk to him about and this was the perfect chance. "We need to talk about your anger."

"I know. It's been getting worse lately."

"And I think your job is the cause. You got the anger completely under control during your last few years as a coach. It's only since you started at HSN that it's come back, and I've noticed that it's worse after a bad day at work."

"And your point?"

Jaria mentally shook her head. She loved Marte, but he could be thick-headed at times. "You were talking last week about trying to decide whether to continue working there. If it's only serving to cause your anger issues to resurface, then perhaps it's best if you quit."

Marte scratched his head for a moment, thinking about it. "Yeah, I think you have a point. I think I am going to retire. I think the only question now, really, is whether I should finish the limmie season."

"Why don't you continue thinking about it? The kids have limmie practice tonight. How about you take them to practice and think about it there?"

"Sounds like a good idea."

---

Location: Eusebus Youth Limmie Club, Eusebus, Euceron
Time: Later that evening

Tendra seemed to be doing fine, so he walked to the other end of the property to check on Jado. Unlike Tendra, who had recently been moved to full forward after spending several years as a center half forward, Jado had been put at goalkeeper by his coach upon starting youth limmie this year. Marte watched him from behind the goal for several minutes. His only remaining son was an excellent goalkeeper despite being just seven years old and having less than a month's experience. Jado was stopping shot after shot, and Marte realized after a minute that his son appeared to have lightning-quick reaction times; sometimes it was almost like he was seeing the shot before it happened.

Marte noticed another parent speaking to the president of the club on the sidelines and pointing at Jado, but figured she was just commenting on his skills. As he continued to watch his son, he heard a whistle, followed by his coach yelling for Jado to take a break and the team's other goalkeeper to get some practice. A minute later, Marte felt a tap on his shoulder; he turned around to find Jado, the coach, and the club president. "Hello," Marte said. "Is there a problem?"

The coach and club president looked at each other as if expecting the other to go first, then the coach spoke. "We're, ah, not sure."

Marte gave him a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

"How much do you know about the Force?" asked the club president.

"I'm familiar with it. I have a couple of Jedi friends. Why do you ask?"

"Since Jado here started playing with us," said the coach, "we've noticed that he seems to be a natural in the goal. He reacts to shots so quickly that he hardly allows any at all. Even during rapid-fire drills, where we expect that even top keepers will allow about half of all balls past, he's giving up only about fifteen percent. It's almost like he can see shots before they occur."

"Yes, I was noticing that while I was standing here," Marte commented. Then it hit him what the coach was getting at. "Are you suggesting that my son is Force-sensitive?"

"It's a definite possibility," said the president. "You might have noticed a mother speaking to me a few minutes ago. She has some weak Force sensitivity herself, though little training. She told me that she could definitely sense a Force presence somewhere in the area, but couldn't pinpoint the source. Given Jado's incredible, seemingly supernatural, reaction times, both she and we feel that he is the most likely candidate."

Marte mulled that over. It did make sense; he had noticed examples of quick reaction times out of Jado in the past, but the possibility of Force-sensitivity had never crossed his mind until now. "What does this mean for his future with the club?"

"As I'm sure you're aware, Force-sensitive beings are not permitted to compete at any level of limmie, even youth. So if he is determined to in fact be sensitive to the Force, he simply will not be able to play ever again. Until we can determine for sure, though, we're going to have to temporarily suspend him from competition. He's welcome to continue coming to practice for now, but out of fairness to the other team, we can't allow someone who might have the Force to play games."

"Makes sense. How do you propose to figure out what the truth is here? Call the Jedi Order?"

"To be honest, I have never dealt with this situation in my fourteen years with the club. I assume that would be the best course of action. You said you have Jedi friends?"

"Yes..."

"Perhaps you could contact them and if they might be willing to perform testing on him."

"Last I heard from them, they were on an extended mission, but I'll give them a call."

---

Location: Nalo home, Eusebus, Euceron
Time: One hour later

Marte walked into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks when he saw Jaria handwashing dishes. He just stared for a moment until his wife broke the silence.

"You're home," she observed. Noticing his stare, she added, "The dishwasher broke. That's why I'm doing them by hand."

"Ah, OK," replied Marte.

"Did you think about retiring while you were at practice?"

"Yep."

"Did you make a decision?"

"Yep."

Jaria rolled her eyes as she picked up a towel and began to dry the plate in her hands. "Well, what is it?"

"I think Jado's Force-sensitive."

Jaria's jaw dropped. The plate in her hand fell to the floor, shattering into a dozen pieces, but she didn't notice. "Jado's what?"

Marte quickly summarized the discussion he'd had with Jado's coach and the club president, and Jaria thought about it for a minute while she picked up the broken plate.

"Interesting," she finally said. "I guess we call the Jedi to find out, but what happens if they want him to leave us and go train as a Jedi? I don't know if I can stand to lose both of my sons."

"I don't either, but it would be his choice."

"Yeah. So, back to the issue of retirement. What are you going to do?"

"Given that we may soon lose another kid, I decided that sooner is better than later. I'm going to tell my boss tomorrow that I'm retiring after the Jets game this weekend."

"Sounds good. Speaking of sooner is better than later, see if you can raise Palla and get her and Zay out here to check Jado out. We might as well learn the truth as quickly as we can. That way he can get back to playing if it turns out he's not Force-sensitive, and if he is, we can begin figuring out what to do about it."

"I'll do that."

TAG: Nobody