Star Wars OPEN Elite League Limmie

Sub-GM Post

Schedule of Activities for the 2nd Futures Cup Final, presented by Gundarkade
All times are local, approximate, and subject to change.

0800: Field opens for warmups
1130: Teams to locker rooms (Marksmen will use home facilities, Crusaders will use visitors' facilities)
1142: Introduction of Concordia Crusaders
1145: Introduction of Druckenwell Marksmen
1152: Performance of planetary anthems
1157: Coin toss
1200: Kickoff
45 minutes after final whistle: All players and coaches must be off the field
1 hour after final whistle: All other personnel and equipment must be off the field
1700: Teams must vacate locker rooms to allow Elite League teams full use of facilities
2000: Scheduled kickoff of Galactic Cup Final (controlled by Elite League officials)

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OOC: Reminder to all Futures League teams that Championship Week scores will be posted on Saturday, not Sunday, to enable those whose characters will be attending the Galactic Cup Final to roleplay events in order. I will try to give a few hours notice in the Out of Bounds thread on Saturday of approximately what time I will be posting scores so that you have a deadline in the event you want to write a last-minute post.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik Vehn Runjedirun Rebecca_Daniels Jedi Gunny CPL_Macja

 

IC: Kaitlyn Vehn
Druckenwell Spaceport, II Avali, Druckenwell



Kaitlyn stirred from her slumber as the shuttle gave a final lurch onto the landing pad. Seatbelts clicked open in rapid succession and the high-pitched whine of the engines shutting down was enough to bring her fully to consciousness.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, as you can see we’ve arrived at our destination of II Avali, Druckenwell. The local time is 01000 hours and the weather looks to be good with clear skies and mild temperatures with a slight chance of rain. Please be careful as you reach in the overhead bins for your luggage as items may have shifted in transit. We’ll be disembarking in just a few minutes and as a reminder please make sure to have your customs forms signed, filled out, and at the ready to allow for a smoother transition through customs for yourself and those around you. Whether you are here for business or pleasure, we hope that you will remember us when you next choose your travel plans. On behalf of everyone at Vertical City Liners, we hope you have a wonderful time here on Druckenwell and thank you for choosing us to take you home.”

There was that word again, that word that seemed to roll around in her mind throughout her nearly year-long exile from Druckenwell, the word that had kept her going for so long, the word that she found resonated with her on a level that so much failed to do, the word was home. She was home and that felt real good, so good, and so right. She had been gone from Druckenwell for so long she had nearly forgotten what the city looked like, what the air smelled like, how blue the skies could be in the sparkling morning light. Memories came to her of childhood laughter, friends, birthday parties, of graduating college, getting married, and having her son, memories of better times, before the exile, before her cataclysmic mistakes that had nearly cost her everything that she cared about. That life seemed so long ago as if it had been a distant dream in a world that was lifetimes ago.

“Anything I can help you with? One of the flight attendants asked.

Kaitlyn realized she was one of the last passengers on the shuttle. It was time to go. It was time to see if she was truly redeemed.

“No, thanks,” Kaitlyn replied as she felt the butterflies grow and swirl inside her gut.

She grabbed her carry-on and left the shuttle behind, left the world of Nar Shaddaa behind, and soon found her way to the long line that was customs. This was all new to her. She’d never had to go through customs before. Being leader of the RTO had its perks. There were times when she missed that kind of power. The power to make the rules and have no logical reason to follow them, the power to get what she wanted, when she wanted, and no questions asked.

The line moved quickly. Her eyes spotted a security camera watching the disembarking passengers. She wondered if the security at II Avali Spaceport had noticed her arrival. Wondered if they’d come swooping down to arrest her on some trumped up charge. She’d fight it, of course. After all, she was innocent. But they didn’t care. Security around here worked for the Tribunes. Hell, didn’t everyone? Her nerves continued to ramp up. She had a hard time breathing now. She was so close to seeing her boy, so close to seeing her family. This was the day she had dreamed about for a very long time.

Please, let me see my son, let me see my son, Kaitlyn thought.

“Next in line,” one of the customs officers said waving her over.

Kaitlyn approached the desk with an enormous amount of trepidation. She could die on the spot, right here, right now.

“Papers,” the man grunted, clearly bored with his job.

Kaitlyn thrust a shaking hand into her pocket and procured her customs document and her identification. This was it, this was the moment when she would either be arrested as a criminal of the RTO or be allowed to go free. This was a true test of whether or not her honor had been restored. A true test of where the loyalties of her friends lay.

The customs officer scanned the papers for what seemed an eternity. Kaitlyn felt that nobody else was held up for this long. Her nervousness grew and she started to sweat. Something was wrong. Verification shouldn’t have been taking this long. They’d found her. This was a trap. She could almost feel the cold barrel of a blaster pressed up against her spine. One shot, one kill.

The customs officer looked up at Kaitlyn and said, “Welcome home, Mrs. Vehn.”

Kaitlyn went weak in the knees, leaned heavily against the counter, and nearly burst out in tears.

“You okay, ma’am?”

“Never better,” Kaitlyn said fighting back her watering eyes as she regained her composure. She scooped up her papers and headed out into the main lobby where she saw families reuniting with one another. She looked all around the masses of people, hoping to find someone she knew, someone she recognized, and someone she loved.

“Mommy! Mommy!” A voice cried out from nearby.

Kaitlyn’s heart froze, chills went down her spine, as she turned to see her son running toward her, parting the sea of legs with his outstretched hands, the biggest smile of his childhood all over his face. This was no dream, this was real, all of this was so real.

“Jack!” Kaitlyn cried out kneeling down and scooping up her boy in her arms.

She hugged him so tight, spinning him around, laughing, crying, kissing him on the side of his face, which he tried to rub off in true boy fashion. She closed her eyes, smelled his scent, felt the warmth of his body, his hands digging into her back, his heart racing in his chest. Her boy, in her arms, after so long, after such a long, long time.

“I missed you so much,” Kaitlyn whispered ruffling his hair.

“I missed you too. I thought you were never coming home,” Jack replied.

Kaitlyn laughed, “Here I am and I’m never leaving you again.”

“Never?”

“Never,” she replied.

“There you are,” a female voice said.

Kaitlyn peered around her son’s black hair and saw Verity waiting for the reunion to draw to a conclusion.

“Welcome home, Kaitlyn,” Verity said drawing her sister-in-law into a hug.

“Glad to be back. Where’s Liam?”

“He said he had a surprise waiting for you at home,” Verity responded.

“Okay, must be pretty good,” Kaitlyn said.

“You have no idea,” Verity replied.

Tag: No One

OOC: Well, this ends my story-arc for this season. Hope you've all enjoyed the read.

 

IC: Lucie Vigo

Lucie woke up the day after the Starkillers loss to the Patriots in Ty’s condo. Ty was already gone. He had explained to Lucie the night before that the loss was bound to hit him and that he wanted to be alone when that happened. The loss was hard to take for everyone. Lucie busied herself by going for a run and then to the stadium where she took inventory on uniforms and supplies. Packing up everything until next season always made her sad. Lucie was craving a distraction, so she made arrangements to meet her sister for lunch.

Lunch started with the normal inquiries of how each of the sister’s was holding up. Lucie told her sister that she would more than likely be over the loss long before Ty. While Justyne said pregnancy was treating her pretty well despite her appearance. Lucie tried to tell her sister she looked great, but there wasn’t much use in telling any woman, much less a dancer that they looked great when their belly had swelled to 10 times its original size.

About half way through the meal Justyne brought up something Lucie had never expected. “So I have given some thought to what I’m going to do after I have the baby” she began.

“What’s that?” Lucie asked enthusiastically.

“I want to get a job.” She stated hesitantly.

“That’s great!” Lucie didn’t even notice when Justyne hesitated to elaborate, she was so excited to hear her sister was finally thinking about the future. “What kind of job?” She asked. She noted that suddenly Justyne was busier studying the tile design on the table than telling her what the job was. “There’s nothing you could be afraid to tell me, I dance in almost no clothes in front of millions and wait tables for a living.” Lucie reminded her.

“Well,” Justyne looked at her plate; where she began mindlessly moving food around with her fork. “I was thinking about, possibly, dancing for the Starkillers”.

“What? You expect me to audition you?” That was the first thing Lucie thought of. If she picked her sister to be on the squad surely everyone would consider it favoritism and if she didn’t her family may hate her forever. “We travel off world.” She continued. “You are going to have a very small baby to be looking after. And no offense,” Lucie tried to say this last bit with as much care as possible. “But do you really think you’ll be in dancing shape before the season starts?”

As usual Justyne had all the answers. “I’m good enough to make the squad.” She stated. “Mom will be more than willing to care for the baby; she is beyond excited about it. And I have 2 full months, nothing a little healthy eating and exercise can’t fix.”

Lucie exhaled. She really didn’t want to talk about this. The sister she had known a few years ago would have a completely different plan in a day or two. She hoped her sister hadn’t changed much, because she just didn’t think she could deal with sharing her career. One really nice thing about her life since she left home, she hadn’t had to share anything.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The following day Lucie worked an all day shift at the restaurant. About an hour before her shift was going to end a group of rowdy teenage boys took up residence in one of the back booths. The booth was far enough away from Lucie’s section that she was able to tune out their antics in the beginning. As the noise level increased Lucie began to study the group for a minute and noticed her brother Bat was among them. She wondered if she should approach him. It looked to her like he was picking another bad crowd to hang around with.

Before she got her courage up the boys all got up at once and ran for the door. Their server hollered out that they hadn’t paid. Lucie’s heart was caught in her throat. She had to make sure the authorities were not summoned. “It’s okay.” Lucie called out. She reached into a pocket for her tips. “They were in a hurry and I took their payment” she lied. Lucie walked over to the table and glanced at the check. She counted out nearly every credit she had earned that day and handed them over to the other server.

Lucie didn’t have a direct number to reach Bat, so when she got home she called Justyne to see if she could have her sister give her the number. When Justyne asked why Lucie wanted Bat’s direct number Lucie lied again. She told her sister that she wanted the number so she could call and wish him a happy birthday next week. It wasn’t easy to get Bat to answer her calls. She left several messages and texts, then 3 days later when she had all but given up hope he answered.

“Why the hell do you keep calling me and who gave you my number?” He demanded.

“I’m calling because you owe me credits”. Lucie fired back.

“You must be crazy! What on Ralltiir are you talking about?”

“Earlier this week, you and several others shared a meal on me.” Lucie informed Bat. “You were so busy enjoying that meal; you didn’t notice I was serving tables on the other side of that very establishment. When you left without paying, I paid for you. That’s why the authorities didn’t come after you.”

“No one asked you to cover for me.”

“Bat, what’s going on?” Lucie said changing her voice from harsh to concern. So far this conversation was not going anywhere.

“Nothing.”

Typical Lucie thought to herself. “Dad can’t pay your way out of trouble for long.” She tried. “You must know that. Why are risking your future?”

“My future?” Bat mock laughed. “Lucie I don’t have a future.”

“What do you mean? You’ll be 17 next week; you have your whole life in front of you.”

“I’m not smart like Richard. I don’t have a skill like you and Justyne. Even if I mange to finish school, there won’t be any opportunities for me.”

“Having a criminal record may add to your problems.” Lucie added. Finally Bat got quiet. “I might be able to get you a job at the stadium if you’re looking for something to do.” Lucie offered.

“The Starkillers season is over.” Bat said confused.

“There are lots of events held there during the off season, concerts mostly. Plenty of help is needed for those. You could usher, help park speeders, serve food; I just don’t want to see my little brother do something he regrets.”

“Why are you trying to help me?”

“Guilt, I suppose. Leaving home has left me with lots of that.” She admitted.

“So, if you do get me a job, what do I owe you?”

“Just the funds I paid for you and friends to eat the other day. Once that’s been paid off, you don’t owe me a thing.”

Bat was quiet for a minute. “Okay” he said. “Let me know when I start.”

“I’ll make some calls tomorrow.” Lucie informed him. For Lucie the sadness of the Starkillers loss was now officially behind her. She had a new mission for now.

TAG: None

 

IC: Cord McKerty
Ryell, Rydonni Prime, League Awards Ceremony

The lights and flashes of Holo cameras were intense, Cord thought, as he walked down the red carpet into Rythanni Place for the League Awards Ceremony. It had been a whirlwind week and a half for him; the ecstasy of the win against Hapes had turned into a nightmare when the Senators had lost to the Patriots by the same score, three points. That had led to major disappointment, only to be abated by learning that he had been nominated for the Ingbrand, the only such nomination for the entire team. Media members wondered why he had been named for the award, given that he had been a third-string forward on the team. Then again, with the depth of the Senators and the substitution methods used, he had been rather impressive in his playing time, so perhaps he had done better than he thought.

The place was packed with team members of the league’s squads, team officials, staffers, coaches, and a glut of celebrities and media members. Cord had a hard time finding anyone he knew from the team, given that most of the rest of the squad had decided not to show up. It wasn’t like that was unusual, but the fact that he had to work that hard to find anyone was a real issue. Where was everyone? The Senators usually travelled pretty well to these kinds of things, so to be alone felt . . . odd, somehow.

“You see anyone?” he asked.

“No, I don’t,” his wife, Reena Wyley, said as she stood next to him. She was slightly taller than Cord was, but if she couldn’t see anyone . . . then who was here? Cord felt comforted by her presence, because at least then he wasn’t alone. Being around her again was intoxicating, because during the rigors of the season they hadn’t been able to do much together.

This odd sensation followed the two of them into the main events hall where the ceremony would take place. In the Senator section, the only being they could see there was a bleached blonde woman sitting in a fine black dress. Cord approached, and the woman looked up at him.

“Ah, Mr. McKerty, I presume?” she said.

“Who are you?” Cord asked. Something seemed . . . familiar . . . about her, but he couldn’t place it.

“I’m Adanna Inviere, your new assistant General Manager,” the woman said.

Now Cord recognized her. He had been in high school when she had played for the Senators, but he hadn’t been notified that someone had been hired on in that position. This was the first he heard of it. “Um . . . hi . . .” he said.

“It’s sad to see that you two are the only others from the team here,” Adanna mused.

“What do you mean?” Cord asked as he took the seat next to the Hapan, and Reena sat on his left.

“Gark said he wasn’t going to show tonight,” Adanna replied. “Sounded like he just wanted to get away for a while. So he sent me instead. I’m probably just here for my pretty face, but at least someone will care.”

Cord ran this thought through his mind. He was pretty much alone here . . . that sucked.

When the ceremony began, the Ingbrand was the first trophy to be handed out. When the Commissioner listed off the names of the three nominees, the cameras followed. Cord’s mug was shown in his seat here, a nervous look on his face. It was the anticipation, after all, even though he knew his chances were slim.

“What’s wrong?” Reena hissed to him as the cameras left.

“I can’t win, Reena,” Cord said. “I just can’t win.”

“But you were nominated. That means something,” Reena said.

“Our winner is…Alyda Hovechar of the Ralltiir Starkillers.”

Cord gave only half-hearted applause to the Starkiller rookie as she received her trophy. Reena, however, was putting in her applause with gusto. Cord shot her a look.

“What?” Reena asked.

“How can you clap that much when I lost?” Cord asked, confused.

“One, it’s customary to do that,” Reena replied curtly. “But, secondly . . . Alyda was my teammate for a year, remember? After the . . . incident . . . Gayla and I took her in for a few days. It wasn’t memorable for anyone involved . . . but to be able to come back from that to not just be a first-round pick, but also to win the Ingbrand . . . as a former teammate I have to give her that kind of respect. I helped her, in some small way, get here. But in no way does this mean that you didn’t achieve something. Besides, Kev retired, I hear, so you might have an opportunity to build upon this year when the next season rolls around.”

Cord just sighed . . . but knew that she had a point. Yes he had lost, yes the team had lost . . . but this was his first year. He still had much to prove . . . and that would continue to drive him as he aimed to reach even higher. Cord wanted to be a star, and wouldn’t stop until he got there. This wasn’t the last the galaxy would hear of Cord McKerty. It was just the beginning.


TAG: No One

NOTE: This is where I will leave Cord's story. Next season I will return with a new character.

 

IC: Asyel Yan'ii
Location: Red carpet, Rythani Place, Ryell, Rydonni Prime
Time: Night of Elite League Award Ceremony

A small enclosed speeder pulled up to the edge of the red carpet. In contrast to the endless line of shiny stretch limousines, this speeder was old, beat up, and appeared to be worth no more than a couple hundred credits. The crowd stared as they tried to figure out who would have the nerve to come to this fancy ceremony in such a thing. As they watched, a human from the limo behind it in line ran up and placed a large mat, the type used in gymnastics competitions, next to the old speeder and then put his hand on the door.

"Ladies and gentlebeings, I present the Euceron Storm!" he yelled as he yanked the door open.

As the door opened, a human and a Bothan dressed in tuxedos fell out, rolled once, and popped up onto their feet, revealing the faces of half forwards Jonica Sarturus and Niast Nan'lie. They moved to either side of the door and thrust their hands toward the door to call attention to it—as if it didn't already have everyone's undivided attention, which it did.

One by one, player after player popped out of the speeder to the amusement of the crowd, each helping the next one out until each and every player on the Euceron Storm team had emerged from the small speeder, even the Wookiees. Finally, Salbukk nominee Asyel Yan'ii, the last player out, reached into the floor of the speeder, crossed one arm over the other and grabbed the hands of the last two beings in the speeder. With a dramatic motion, Asyel pulled them up and out, performing a half-spin on his heel to uncross his arms and face the holocams as his did so, leaving him standing in front of the old speeder with both hands in the air, one holding the hand of head coach and Langann nominee Haron Orus and the other holding the hand of general manager and Grames nominee Aebatt Zargana. The three award nominees did an exaggerated bow for the holos. After high-fiving each other on a job well done, the team crossed the length of the red carpet, posing for the holos as they did so, and made their way into the theater.

Asyel looked around in awe as he took in the scene. Having entered the Elite League directly out of high school, he was the youngest player on the team and probably the youngest in the Elite League, at least when he started with the Storm. To think that he had been nominated for the highest individual player award in professional limmie at an age when most limmie players were still in college, was simply mind-blowing. Sure, he had been nominated for the Ingbrand three years earlier, but that was partially the result of the hype generated by a high-schooler going pro. He had depended heavily on his teammates to carry him through the season, the same teammates whose excellent plays had masked Asyel's own rookie mistakes. But this year there was no mistaking who had led the offense. Porrsk might be the elected captain whom the team turned to for leadership, but Asyel knew that he was the keystone of the offense. If he had a bad day, like he had had in week 4, the whole offense had a bad day.

Oh, yes: week 4. The Storm had been demolished that day at Stoney End by the ugly score of 32 to 9. Their opponent that day had been none other than the Chandrila Patriots, the same Patriots who were now the only team standing between Asyel and hoisting the Galactic Cup. The blame for the earlier defeat had been spread across the whole team; yes, Asyel and the rest of the offense had failed to get anything going, but the defense had also been unable to stop the Patriots. Both sides would have to perform better in the Final.

In the middle of his reflection, Asyel realized that the ceremony had already begun, and the commissioner was already up to the Langann. "...Haron Orus of the Euceron Storm," Kayl'hen announced. Asyel applauded as the big screen showed Haron just down the row. "...and Tover Micjaa of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers.

"The winner is... Haron Orus."

Asyel stood up and applauded once more. As Haron made his way past him, Asyel grabbed him in a hug. "You're the one that turned this failing ship around, Coach."

"Not alone," said Haron.

"Yes, but it could not have been done without your perseverance and patience over the past several years." Haron started to open his mouth again, but Asyel cut him off with a smile. "There's a trophy up there with your name on it. Go get it."

Haron found his way to the stage and accepted the trophy. "Thanks. Honestly, the last several years have been a struggle, both for the team as a whole and for me personally. To see the team finally turn it around this year and get this far has been dream come true. You know, when Marte Nalo retired, he left me a team that was still riding high on its promotion and two playoff appearances in four years, but it was an old team. Many players only had a year or two left in the tank. Right after I took over, it became evident that rebuilding the team with younger players was immediately necessary. I couldn't have done it without the scouting ability of Dr. Zargana—and yes, I know she hates to be called that—and the mentorship of Marte Nalo. Our owner, Mr. Tunran, stood by me during the down years, extending my contract when many other teams wouldn't have hesitated to fire their coach. But most importantly, I owe my thanks to the players I have coached, who have worked hard to improve themselves without letting the disappointment of each successive season affect them. Thank you, and we'll see if we can go all the way this weekend."

Asyel applauded with the rest of the crowd. A few minutes later, he watched Glencross's "speech". Despite chuckling slightly, he hoped that wouldn't be him. He had failed his public speaking class in high school and did not have a prepared speech.

Next up was the Grames, and as Asyel expected, the winner was Aebatt. How could she not win, after all the work she had done over the past few years building a team of young players who had gone so far this season? Asyel did not get a chance to congratulate Aebatt on her way up as her extremely short stature necessitated that she sit on the aisle to provide a clear line of sight to the stage.

"Wow," she said after accepting the award. "To win the Grames Award for the second time is truly an honor. The past several years have involved a lot of hard work with scouting and contract negotiations. But I can only draft players and get them to sign contracts. From there, it's out of my hands. Haron is the one that takes over from there and molds those youngsters into the championship contenders we finally have this season, and so the credit goes to him and the players that worked so hard for our success this season. Thanks. Oh, and Haron, if you call me 'doctor' one more time I'm going to make you do a hundred pushups."

Asyel laughed out loud at the last statement as he applauded. As the commissioner began to introduce the Zumtak, Asyel could begin to feel the butterflies in his stomach. Could he really win the Salbukk? Could he? Surely Abe Cynour or whatever he was calling his pompous self today had more attention on him. And who was the other nominee? That's right: Vesper Lynd from the Monarchs. Asyel could not figure out why she had been nominated. The Salbukk winner always came from a winning team. The Monarchs had finished at the bottom of the league. So what was it about her that got here nominated?

Asyel was so lost in thought over that that he did not snap back to the present until Clarisse tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the stage. It was only then that he realized that he had just won the biggest award of the night.

Dumbstruck, Asyel slowly stood up and accepted congratulations from his teammates as he walked to the stage. Accepting the trophy, he turned to the microphone... and drew a complete blank on what to say.

"Uhhhhh... thanks. Ummm... I guess..." He took a step back to compose himself. Taking a deep breath, he stepped back to the microphone. "Thanks to Dr. Zargana for believing in me four years ago at the draft. Thanks to Coach Orus for all the work he's put into improving my skills; without that, I never would have lived up to the hype. I... uh..." He finally turned to and pointed at the rest of his team. "Let's beat those Patriots, shall we?"

Asyel made his way back to his row amidst the applause to find a surprising sight: Aebatt Zargana, towering over him. It took him a minute to realize that she was standing on her chair.

"One hundred pushups! Now!" she yelled at him with a smile on her face.

Asyel grinned, put the Salbukk Award down in front of him, dropped to the ground and started doing pushups as the crowd laughed.

TAG: No one in particular

 

IC: Aay'han Vhett
Meshla Vhetin, Manda'yaim.

It was so quiet. The hallways were mostly darkened and silent. Some of that could be explained by the end of the Mercs season, their record had not earned them a playoff berth, and so no game preparation had been needed of late. But there were always off season tasks that needed to be handled. Player's renewed or released, draft board meetings, and free agents to be wooed or ignored
based on their ability and how it fit into with the team's needs. Normally Vhett had a veritable army of office staff helping her sort through all these tasks, but that wasn't the case this off season. For this was the season of war.

Taab, the team owner and mand'alor had departed a week or two ago, along with the majority of his army. A large enough force had been left behind to defend the system, but still the exact timing of the fleet's departure had been kept secret. In the absence of hard information rumors ran rampant. There were rumors that the Republic was going to revoke their SOF agreement and strand the Mandalorians on the other side of the Galaxy, rumors that the Ssi-ruuk were on the run and Taab was vacationing in Cape Suzette. Rumors that the Bakuran fleet would be joining with the Mandalorian one, intent on their own revenge. The rumors were crazy and Vhett did her best to ignore them, she was too busy doing the work of an entire ELL front office staff.

The retirement of so many players at once had created some rather large holes on the Mercs roster. Offense, defense, even midfield and goaltender. The Mercs needed a little something of everything. The draft would serve to fill some needs, but the Mercs would need to bring in some free agents to look at. Any remaining spots would have to be filled internally, from players in the developmental league. They would be young, and raw, but at least they were somewhat accomplished.

The thought of the Crusaders brought a brief smile to her thin lips. For the second time in three seasons the Mercs developmental team had made the LFL title game. The 272 team had come home with a title to their credit, it would be a boost to morale for the troops at the front if the Crusaders could bring back another championship to Concordia. She checked the chrono in her HUD. In fact it was almost time to depart for Rydonni Prime, she would of course be present herself for the occasion.

Too bad the same had not been true of the ELL awards ceremony. The Mercs had not sent a team representative to attend that event. With no one from the organization nominated for an award she had seen little need to make an appearance, she and what little remained of her staff, were far too busy for parties and awards. They had work to do. Even the trip to the Grande Villa was more to act as a final scouting trip, she had a good idea of what players would be promoted to the ELL, but she wanted to see things with her own T-Visor first. Players like Mereel (who had scored both points in the 2-0 semi-finals win), Soker and Horonel were about to get a very close look from the Mercs GM. She hoped they performed as advertised.

She looked at the computer terminal before her as it chimed. It was the Hanson's agent. All three brothers would be free agents at seasons end, more potential holes in the Mercs roster. In fact, there were 11 players on the team whose contracts would come to an end after the postseason. Decisions would have to be made regarding all of them. At least the Hanson issue would be easy. They had performed well in their stint with the Mercs, and their antics both on and off the field had made them fan favorites. So long as their agent's terms weren't outrageous they would be brought back into the fold.

But that would have to wait for now. She looked to the chrono again, it was time to leave. She would go over their proposal on the flight out, and hopefully she would be coming home with another Futures Cup.

TAG: CPL_Macja (for Future's Cup semi-final action) No one else for everything else.

 

Sub-GM Post

Bonus rolls this week to (points in parentheses): Thyferra (32), Tatooine (28), Commenor (28), Concordia (30), Druckenwell (28).

Limmie Futures League
Championship Week
Seventh Place Game
(8) Thyferra Force at (6) Kamino Waves (16–4)
Fifth Place Game
(7) Tatooine Sandskimmers at (5) Kashyyyk Rangers (17–1)
Third Place Game
(3) Commenor Gundarks at (1) Byblos Red Wings (3–2)
2nd Futures Cup Final, presented by Gundarkade
The Grande Villa, Ryell, Rydonni Prime
(4) Concordia Crusaders vs. (2) Druckenwell Marksmen (24–24, OT 25–24 [time expired])

Congratulations to the Concordia Crusaders, 274 Limmie Futures Cup Champions!

TAG: Bardan_Jusik Vehn Runjedirun Rebecca_Daniels Jedi Gunny CPL_Macja

 

--Injury Report--
Galactic Cup Final

Euceron Storm
Asyel Yan'ii: QUESTIONABLE (knee)

TAG: Nobody

 

IC: Vesper Lynd
Rydonni Prime

The past few weeks had been frustrating and disappointing ones for the Monarchs. The first was the sad ordeal of having to come back to the stadium, a few days after losing to Bakura, and completely clean out their locker room. In two weeks, their locker room would play host the two different home teams in the Futures Cup and the Galactic Cup. Most of the Monarchs had hoped that one of those teams would have been the Red Wings, but after their absolute debacle of a match against Concordia they had been bumped to playing for third place.

Hanging on the wall was an electronic stats board. It was instantly updated upon the completion of their matches. It was a new feature that had been installed in an attempt to foster competition and better play. All it did not was stand as a painful reminder of their complete failure to accomplish anything. With the lengthened schedule, players across the league were posting record breaking numbers. Vesper looked at the board and did some quick math in her head. Even though she posted a grand total of 103 scoring points (31/10) and 24 assists, she only averaged about 11.44 scoring points a game. It was a meager 1.15 point increase over last season.

The teams disappointing season, however, did not end with failing to qualify for the post-season for the third year straight. This year it extended into the Post-Season awards as well. Between herself, Corrie Andersen and Melodie Ocean they had been nominated for four of the six awards. Corrie and her both were nominated for the Duchess Eldin Award against Alana Glencross. As award after award was announced and the Monarchs names were not being called, it became painfully obvious, ‘winning meant everything.’

It was embarrassing. In front of their entire planet they were shown to be absolute losers. As everyone walked out of Rythani Place, Vesper stayed behind with Arden, Setarcos, and Variise. She turned to her partner and his sister, “Can you please excuse us?” she respectfully requested, “I have something I would like to discuss with my coach.” The royals complied and gave them some space.

Before Setarcos could get a word out she started in on him, “That was ridiculous. We were better than that. We are better than all of them and here we are looking at the first pick of the draft. What the frak happened to you this season coach? Your mind never seemed to be on the game or even on how to improve the team.”

Setarcos placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled down at her, “Alright, I’ll start making calls after the championships.” He sounded like his mind was a galaxy away from there, that the last thing he was thinking about was limmie at that point. His answer was not acceptable.

“No. We are going to fix this now. I want to hold a team meeting in the morning and I want the coaches there as well. Got it?” She turned and left him standing there in a stupor while she walked back over to Arden so he could escort her back to her apartment. As they sat in the back of his limo even Arden seemed distant, just like Setarcos. “What is wrong Arden? You’ve been quiet ever since you guys had that meeting a week or two ago. Is there something going on that I should know about?”

Arden turned and looked at her, “Promise me after the meeting tomorrow you get off planet, go visit your parents on Bakura, go to Bison to watch the Sabres play in the Premiership against Onderon, I don’t care where you go, just promise me you will get off planet.”

“Arden you’re scaring me. Is there a reason why you want me to be gone? Is something going to happen at the Galactic Cup?”

“No, nothing is going to happen at the game. Just promise me you’re not going to be here. Please?” There was something behind his eyes that told her that something just wasn’t right.

“Okay, I’ll go see the Sabres play,” she said as she stroked his face trying to calm him down, “I’ll make sure that I am back before the wedding starts.”

“We’re not going to the wedding,” he answered abruptly, “The family is protesting the union. We feel that her actions have not held to the ideals of Rydonni Prime. So we are not attending. Most of us won’t even be on planet. Variise will be the only one here and that is due to her obligations as owner of the host team for the championships.”

“Alright, so I guess I bought that strapless little black dress for nothing.” But Arden’s mind was so distracted that even that comment fell on deaf ears.

The next morning in the team meeting Vesper stood up in front of the team. The only person not present was Setarcos when she began to speak. “This season we all played like champions, but we failed as a team. What we needed to do was play like a team so that we could all be champions. We fell apart at the seams because there was nothing that tied us all together. Not again, not next season. Starting right now we work together, as a team. We live together, we eat together, we practice together…”

“We SLEEP together?”

“Keep dreaming Sugnok,” Vesper responded to the interruption, “We come together as a team. I am leaving from this meeting, packing up a few things, and I am traveling to Bison to watch the Sabres play against the Onderon Crazy Dragons for the Premiership. I want everyone in this room, coaches included, to join me. Now some of you might be wondering why I would go to see the Premiership when the Galactic Cup is playing on our home turf, my answer is simple: 1-6 to 6-3. That’s right, the Sabres ended the 273 PLL Season in dead last with only winning once now they are playing for the Premiership having had the second best record in the PLL. I want us to go there and pick the brains of the players, talk with the coaching staff, find out what they did to turn it all around. That way we can come back here and win it all in 275.”

She paused and looked around the room into the eyes of every single being present, “So whose with me?” Everyone shot to their feet and shouted “I AM!”

As they started to make their way to the door Setarcos came into the room and pulled Vesper aside. “Excellent speech kid, do you think you could do that on a regular basis?” She gave him a confused look, “I am making an executive decision and making you team Captain.” Her jaw hit the floor. “Mara’s knees aren’t going to last another season so she is going to retire and stay on as the new Goalkeepers coach for next season.” She was speechless. “Oh, while you’re on Bison be sure to say hi to your new Head Coach and Coordinators. I just got off the holonet with Romo who will be making the announcement after the match.”

“Thank you sir, I won’t let you down.” Dumbfounded she joined the rest of the team at the spaceport an hour later. While on the way she learned that Setarcos had been busy since the end of the regular season. Lexi, Staweh-Tam, and Kelsei all signed contract extensions. Meanwhile Corrie told her that she was going to retire as well, but agreed to coach Vesper and the rest of the front three as the offensive forwards coach.

Laura and Biedo were the only team members not to make the trip to Bison instead they were going to Byblos where they were going to be coaching next season along side of Edu Ovando, Oshi Shilou, Herc Tathor and Genifer Ulla. Apparently the Red Wings benched all of their experienced players in favor for eight untested players from the Colonials. Rumor had it that Loruna K’ntarr gave Julla Ehennifer an ultimatum, bench everyone but DiJohn, Benneb, Bellweather, Dwara, Teska, and Zo or start looking for a new job.

During the flight all the team changes were posted in the shuttle:

--Transaction Wire--
Rydonni Prime Monarchs & Byblos Red Wings

• Romo Benedict Crowley III (Human, Male, Bison Sabres Head Coach) Hired as Monarchs Head Coach
• Michelle Winters (Human, Female, Bison Sabres Assistant Head Coach) Hired as Monarchs Assistant Head Coach
• Jensen Remington (Human, Male, Bison Sabres Offensive Coordinator) Hired as Monarchs Offensive Coordinator
• Jared Remington (Human, Male, Bison Sabres Defensive Coordinator) Hired as Monarchs Defensive Coordinator
• Mara Singus (Hapan, Female, Monarachs Goalkeeper) Retires; Hired as Monarchs Goalkeepers Coach
• Lex Silas (Human, Male, Monarchs Defensive Coordinator) Moved to Monarchs Defensive Backs Coach
• Adam Maas (Human, Male, Red Wings Defensive Coordinator) Promoted to Monarchs Half Back Coach
• Beks Vidda (Human, Male, Monarchs Offensive Coordinator) Moved to Monarchs Half Forward Coach
• Corrie Andersen (Hapan, Female, Monarchs Corner Forward) Retires; Hired as Monarchs Offensive Forwards Coach
• Edu Ovando (Human, Male) Hired as Red Wings Defensive Coordinator from Retirement
• Oshi Shilou (Human, Male, Red Wings Half Back) Promoted to Red Wings Defensive Back Coach
• Biedo Nazug (Human, Male, Monarchs Half Back) Promoted to Red Wings Half Back Coach
• Laura Cynd-Nazug (Human, Female, Monarchs Midfielder/Half Forward) Promoted to Red Wings Midfielder Coach
• Herc Tathor (Human, Male, Red Wings Half Forward) Promoted to Red Wings Half Forwards Coach
• Genifer Ulla (Human, Female, Red Wings Corner Forward) Promoted to Red Wings Forwards Coach
• Lexi Anna (Theelin, Female, Half Back) signed 3-year contract extension
• Staweh-Tam Ford (Human, Male, Half Back) signed 3-year contract extension
• Kelsei Seter (Zeltron, Female, Midfielder) signed 3-year contract extension
• Baga Oda (Duro, Male, Half Back) Released to Free Agency

Premier League Premiership 100

Conference Wild Cards
Northern Galactic Conference
(3)Onderon Crazy Dragons at (2)Balmorra Blasters (25-12)

Southern Galactic Conference
(3)Genet Vornkrs at (2)Bison Sabres (19-25)

Conference Championships
Northern Galactic Conference
(3)Onderon Crazy Dragons at (1)Alsaken Flyers (31-12)

Southern Galactic Conference
(2)Bison Sabres at (1)Fondor Freedom (21-11)

Finals
(3)Onderon Crazy Dragons at (2)Bison Sabres (9-14)

TAG: No One, just wrapping up the season


OOG: Transactions and Premiership all done with approval from @Trieste

 

GM Post

The 119th Galactic Cup Final. Enough said.

Euceron gets its bonus roll for the Final. Banked bonus rolls for the future to Agamar, Bakura, Coruscant, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, Ralltiir, and Rydonni Prime.


119th Galactic Cup Final
The Grande Villa, Ryell, Rydonni Prime
(2) Chandrila Patriots vs. (1) Euceron Storm (16-9)

---

The Grande Villa, Ryell, Rydonni Prime

The moment the final buzzer sounded, the streamers and confetti started in a green and white blizzard. Inside round the galaxy the Patriot fans exploded. From the ignominy of demotion to the ecstasy of a championship--the Patriot Nation had now run the gamut. The players had gathered in their end in a mob as they experienced emotions that they had never felt before--and likely never would again. Even if this day came for them again, it would never be like the first time.

The being most responsible for this day, for the very existence of this collection of players, was now in the middle of a crowd of media and cameras. Reina Kether, the being who had taken the Patriots to the promised land three times before, had led them up the mountain once again. She was crossing the field, parting the beings to every side of her as she made her way to her team.

When she finally got there the her well-drilled team was already doing her proud. They were lining up for the traditional handshake that came at the end of each playoff game. Kether hugged some of her players on her way to the end of the line, the traditional spot for a head coach in that most sacred limmie tradition. Kether was the last to shake the hand of each and every member of the Storm.

"Excellent game," Kether said to each in turn as she shook their hand and looked every one of them in the eye--even the Wookiees that were still taller than her.

It was when the lines were spent that Kether came to the one being for whom she had the most to say. "What a season, Haron," Kether said, leaning in to speak in the Storm head coach's ears over the noise on the field. Reporters and cameras were all around. "This won't be the last time you'll be here. Not for the last time by a long shot." She gave Orus' arm a final squeeze before parting.

Reporters clamored for Kether's attention now that the handshakes were done, but she seemed not to hear them as she headed back towards the Patriot sideline. Her eyes were looking up into the stands, scanning the seats. She gently pushed through the sea of beings as she kept heading towards the sideline.

"Reina, you've already been inducted into the Hall of Fame for your achievements and now you've added another Galactic Cup. How does this feel?"

"Reina, how is this Galactic Cup special?"

"Reina, you've taken the Patriots back from demotion. What does that mean to you?"

"Reina--"

"Reina--"

"Reina--"

Even the congratulatory slaps on the back from her coaching staff and players went unnoticed as Kether kept looking and looking. She had finally gotten to the sideline and stood up on one of the benches to get a better view.

That was when she found him. An old, feeble man with not much hair left, slowly clapping his old, gnarled hands. It was her father, the man who had taught her limmie so many years ago. He was the man who had been there for Reina Kether her entire life, the man that had been there 27 years ago when she had won her first Galactic Cup. She had looked for him in the stands then and to this very day he was the only being in the entire galaxy she wanted to see in this moment of triumph.

Kether started crying. She put a hand to her chest and mouthed, "I love you Dad." When he gave his daughter a thumbs up, the great Reina Kether smiled through her tears.

When she finally got down from the bench, everything was already set at center field--including a waiting Elite League Commissioner Niakara Kayl'hen. "Before we go any further, let's congratulate both the Euceron Storm and the Chandrila Patriots on a fantastic season." The crowd applauded fantastically. "The Jipoly Numifolis Award is given to the most valuable player of the Galactic Cup Playoffs. It is my pleasure and honor to present the Numifolis Award to Avano Koobis of the Chandrila Patriots."

The fans cheered as the Rodian captain came forward to shake the hand of the Commissioner and pose accepting the Numifolis Award. When the holo opportunity was finished, she lifted the trophy high and showed it to the entire stadium before returning to her teammates to share the trophy with them.

Then out came the Galactic Cup. Every fan, regardless of their allegiance, started cheering as the Cup was slowly walked out to midfield until it was placed on the table next to the Commissioner.

"The Galactic Cup of Limmie is the greatest championship trophy in the galaxy," Kayl'hen said, "and it takes an outstanding organization to win it. I'd like to congratulate the Patriots' Board of Governors for its calm and steady leadership of the team--including its decision to put in place an outstanding front office staff headed up by Reina Kether." This was greeted with cheers. "But most importantly, congratulations to the shareholders of the Chandrila Patriots, the people of Chandrila, who have believed in this team even in its dark moments." Even greater noise cascaded down the rows of The Grande Villa at that.

"Now, Avano Koobis, get back here and accept the Galactic Cup of Limmie!"

The Rodian, now unburdened of the Numifolis Award, returned to midfield and once again posed accepting the Galactic Cup from the Commissioner. Once the holos were taken, Kayl'hen said, "Okay, have fun," to the Patriot captain who immediately raised the Cup over her head in ecstasy.

Kether watched as each and every member of her team had their moment lifting the Galactic Cup of Limmie. None of them had ever been here before. She remembered that moment in her life. It was one she would never forget. When the very last Patriot had experienced that divine bliss, Kether felt her players pushing her forward. They knew it was time for their coach to receive a richly deserved reward.

Reina Kether stepped forward and took the Galactic Cup of Limmie in her hands. With a mighty roar she lifted it over her head and the Patriot Nation around the galaxy cheered for her and with her.

TAG: jcgoble3

---

Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes the 274 Elite League Limmie season. Information on the All-Star Game and 275 Draft will come later today.

 

GM Business

First off--some transactions now that the season is over:

Euceron Storm

• Receives Chew Fej (Rodian, Male, Corner Forward) from Rydonni Prime Monarchs
• Receives Rydonni Prime Monarchs' third round pick in the 275 ELL Draft

Rydonni Prime Monarchs

• Receives Euceron Storm's first round pick in the 275 ELL Draft

I will be rolling the score for the Elite League All-Star game on Tuesday. Unlike the 270 All-Star Game, I will do one roll for the entire game (for those not around, we drew out the 270 game on the temp boards so that it was done over four weeks with four rolls, one for each 15 minutes of the game).

Though it will not give much time, we need to get the offseason rolling and that means that the very next day will start the 275 ELL Draft. Here is your schedule:

Round One

• Rydonni Prime Monarchs (October 3)
• Mando'ade Mercs (October 4)
• Bakura Miners (October 5)
• Ylesia Lightning (October 6)
• Coruscant Senators (October 7)
• Nar Shaddaa Smugglers (October 8)
• Ralltiir Starkillers (October 9)
• Rydonni Prime Monarchs (October 10)

Round Two

• Via PM (October 11 to 13)

Round Three

• Via PM (October 14 to 16)

I realize I have given you this info super late this season and I apologize. If these dates don't work for you, alert me ASAP and we will make something work.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Rebecca_Daniels Runjedirun Vehn

 

GM Post

With the 274 season over, free agent claims have now been processed.

--Transaction Wire--
Coruscant Senators

• Abbey Waters (Human, Female, Left Corner Back) signed out of free agency

Agamar Packers

• Tamon “T.K.” Kutel (Human [Bakuran], Male, Left Half Back) signed out of free agency
• Everett North (Human [Bakuran], Male, Midfielder) signed out of free agency
• Tesar Raine (Barabel, Male, Bantha Squad/Utility Defender, Barab 1 Restoration Council) signed to an entry-level contract
• Shaka Fivvic (Barabel, Female, Bantha Squad/Utility Defender, Barab 1 Restoration Council) signed to an entry-level contract
• Morto Goot (Togorian, Male, Bantha Squad/Utility Forward, University of Agamar Class of 273) signed to an entry-level contract
• Mezgraf Goot (Togorian, Male, Bantha Squad/Utility Forward, University of Agamar Class of 274) signed to an entry-level contract
• Plakhisakh Clan Bakh'tor (Nohgri, Male, Midfielder, Honoghr Reclamation Team) signed to an entry-level contract
• Sakmirakh Clan Tlakh'sar (Nohgri, Male, Midfielder, Honoghr Reclamation Team) signed to an entry-level contract

TAG: Jedi Gunny Tim Battershell

 

IC: Tim Dodd - Dodd Apartment, Calna Muun, Agamar.

From the reports on HNN, Bakura had developed a really bad case of war fever! Somewhat understandable, Tim thought, given the continuous threat posed by the Ssi-Ruuk (with at least two attempts at conquest) over the last three centuries; but he wondered if those pounding the war-drums had really thought the matter through.

Elevation from 'neutral' supply-base to active participant both raised the counterstrike threat-level and limited what other worlds could do in the way of support. He'd have to speak to the Supreme Chancellor to find out what effect Bakura's active involvement would have on mutual defence arrangements with the Republic and its member-worlds, but given some of the comments attributed to senior Republic Senators (by anonymous leakers claiming to be members of their staffs) Bakura could well find itself on its own if the Ssi-Ruuk launched a reprisal attack. A lot depended on whether the combined Mandalorian and Bakuran fleets were able to prevent forces slipping past them - and, perhaps most important of all, had the Bakurans retained enough ships at home to protect the planet?

Comedians (and even some ex-military) often stated that the term 'Military Intelligence' was an oxymoron. Just how little information there actually was on the Ssi-Ruuk underlined their point. Number of worlds? Unknown! Population? Unknown! Number of ships? Unknown!

Were the Mandalorians angry (or foolish) enough to go charging into Ssi-Ruuk territory blind? Unknown, but probable!

The most recent thing that actually was known (and that snippet of information was more than two centuries old) was that the Ssi-Ruuk had refined their 'entechment' process so the trapped essences lasted longer. To cynical (they would both say 'realistic') beings like Oleg and Komad'avao that didn't mean fewer 'entechments'; not for an aggressive species like the Ssi-Ruuk - it meant more ships!

The one bright spot in the whole mess was that Ayn Dormingale had won her election race (albeit with a majority of only two thousand or so) and had now taken her first step up the Bakuran political ladder. A voice of reason, certainly; but could she prove to be as effective as Padme Amidala of Naboo had once been if the worst happened? That remained to be seen!

Officially, of course, Agamar didn't have a navy; ASF's sixty System Patrol Ships and one hundred Snubfighters were it, as far as most of the population (and the Galaxy at large) were concerned. But, ASF (like many Agamarians), never threw away anything potentially useful! That included the 'ARK' (a Clone Wars vintage Acclamator 1-class Assault Ship, still fully operational - sadly missing its entire complement of 'Larties' - but otherwise fully armed) that had spent the entire Neo-Sith war jumping all over the Galaxy carrying the nucleus of a 'Council-in-Exile' and as many valuables (all in easy-to-convert-into-Credits form) as could be gathered together; in anticipation of returning to rebuild Agamar one day!

The 'ARK' was stored in the ASF's Impoundment area (on an airless planet somewhere in the System) along with captured Smuggler and Pirate ships and a large stockpile of weaponry stripped out of their predecessors (to convert them back to civilian specifications, for eventual sale on the open market). The process had turned out to be a nice little earner for the entire planet!

Dwarfing the 'ARK' was an historical oddity and mystery, a Nebula class Star Destroyer of the early New Republic era, discovered drifting into the System not long after the conclusion of the Neo-Sith War. No one knew where she had come from, or how she had acquired such a variety of damage from different weapon types (the signature from 'Scarhead' Lava-projectiles was unmistakable; but that was only one type of damage among many). Nor did available records suggest that any Nebulas had gone 'missing, unaccounted for'! Towed into a stable parking orbit, she was inspected (without discovering anything to identify her) and almost condemned to be cut up for scrap.... Almost!

Instead, she became the focus of a (semi-clandestine) restoration effort, initially to make her into a static guardship and fighter-base for the Impoundment area, later to restore as much of her original capabilities as ASF's shipwrights and technicians could accomplish. About half her Turbolaser armament was either still intact or could be repaired, repositioned or replaced from ASF's stockpile. The Turbolaser emplacements that couldn't be repaired or exchanged were replaced by multiple, magazine-fed, Proton Torpedo or Concussion Missile launchers unless and until these could be again replaced by Turbolasers. Care was taken to ensure that the armament remained evenly distributed between threat axes. While probably not as powerful as she had been in her heyday, she was still considered a potent vessel. Her first new assignment had been to act as a base, transport (and protection) for the Patrol Ships and Snubfighters sent on the Aquaris raid.

Oleg was considering sending both these big ships to Bakura, should there need to be an evacuation. The 'ARK' could lift 16.000 beings at once for an extended trip, possibly as many as 48,000 for a shorter one.

The Packers were stood-down to a light (or should that be lighter) training regime for now, but looking forward to integrating the new players and participating in the new Season. All the prospective new players had received the green-light from Asyr and were being signed up. Two of the three players on the Free Agent list he'd put out contract offers for had decided to join the Packers and were being signed-up.

Finishing touches (amusingly, it turned out, called 'snagging' by the workbeings) were being put to the new, and still un-named, Stadium; although the flying-arch would not be installed until after the return match with the Miners - it would get in the way of one of the things he had planned, otherwise!

He hadn't won the Zumtak Award (but then he didn't really think he'd deserved it). Attending the Awards ceremony had been an interesting and educational experience, though! He couldn't repress a smile at the memory of an entire Limmie team emerging from a very small speeder; that showed a touch of class (as well as some highly flexible players)!

The TenGate hopefuls were still at their practice, although interrupted (for some) by family vacations elsewhere on Agamar or (in one or two instances) off-world.


TAG: Trieste, otherwise No One.

 

IC: Zay Antilles
Location: The Grande Villa, Ryell, Rydonni Prime
Time: Twenty minutes before the 119th Galactic Cup Final

"Poodoo!" said a fan in the row behind him.

Zay turned around, and the fan continued. "Yan'ii's not in the starting lineup! What the kriff are they thinking?!"

"He was injured last week near the end of the game, remember?" said Zay. "On that foul that resulted in a penalty shot?"

"Yeah, but didn't they say after the game he'd be good to go for tonight?"

"That was before he re-aggravated it in practice Friday. He was on the injury report as questionable."

The fan sighed. "Well, I hope they get him out there at some point, because we can't win without him."

---

Time: Less than a minute remaining in the game, 16–6 Patriots

Those words had proven to be prophetic. The noise in the stadium was deafening, but where Zay sat, surrounded by Storm fans, it was slightly less so. The game had never really been close. The Euceron defense had done an average job, holding the Patriots to sixteen points, but it wasn't enough. The Storm offense had collapsed without Yan'ii. The Salbukk winner had made a brief appearance on the field at the start of the second half, scoring the Storm's only goal thus far in the process, but it had lasted less than two minutes before he was on the ground in pain, being checked by trainers and eventually having to be taken off the field on a cart.

The Patriots had pulled away from there, and just now had pulled their starters to the roar of the crowd. As garbage time began, Zay could see Storm fans beginning to get up and leave. The ball bounced back and forth, up and down the field. Finally with a couple seconds to go, the Patriots players could hold it in no more and began to celebrate. Clarice Su, who had drawn the start in Yan'ii's absence, took the opportunity to score a meaningless empty-net goal as the buzzer sounded.

The players lined up for the handshakes that came after every playoff game, but Zay barely noticed. Inwardly he was upset that essentially one stupid foul by the Smugglers last week had cost the Storm the championship. Had it been a dirty hit? That was debatable, but the League had not penalized it as such. Zay thought otherwise, and just like that he had a new most hated team: the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers.

Something else was niggling at him as well. The trail of Rondy Bassell has gone cold almost as soon as they had arrived in the system. There was no trace of his ship at Rydonni Prime; no sightings, no customs records, not even any sensor data that resembled his ship. Not a trace. His Master had already decided that they would go back to the Temple after the game and take a break, in hopes that they would think of something new.

Zay was not happy. He had failed to find any trace of Bassell. The Storm had failed to win the Galactic Cup. Failure was the word of the day.

Zay wanted to cry.

TAG: Vehn indirectly for the comments about his team

 

IC: Kaitlyn Vehn
II Avali, Druckenwell, Vehn Household



Life had returned to some semblance of normality since Kaitlyn had returned home from the awards ceremony. Her surprise when she left the spaceport the other day had been a nicely prepared dinner by Liam for her long absence away from the home. She’d enjoyed every minute of that dinner as she caught up with her family and cherished making memories with her son who hadn’t seemed to miss a beat since her exile. They’d laughed, they’d appreciated one another’s company, and finally, Kaitlyn felt whole again for the first time in a long time. That meant something, meant a lot to her.

Now she had decisions to make.

She’d been offered her old job back as Chairwoman of the RTO. Apparently, the faction that had sent her into exile was none too popular with the shareholders. People, some claimed, wanted a proven leader at the helm of the trade organization, one who had been tested by fire and lived to tell the tale. Well, Kaitlyn fit that bill. But she hadn’t accepted the offer yet and every time she’d picked up her datapad to respond to Board of Tribunes something inside of her shut down, refused to go on. Something was wrong. Something inside of her wasn’t quite right. Sure, she missed the power that being the leader of the RTO possessed. The ability to raise and lower those around her with the slightest twitch of her finger, to command countless credits on a march to success and financial viability, to have some respect that had been earned.

Her thoughts lingered on her friend who had helped pave the way for her homecoming. That friend had been her father, her mentor, the man she looked toward as a beacon of everything that was good in the universe. But her father was not a nice man even if had pulled strings to get her home. Deep down, Kaitlyn knew that. Deep down, she knew he’d done every unethical thing in the book to get to where he was. Lied, cheated, and stolen his way to the very top of the Ypres Foundation, the family corporation that had become a pillar of economic stability and financial gain throughout much of the 25 year existence of the RTO.

Kaitlyn had once been a very active member of the Ypres Foundation. Her position there had set her up to be one of the most powerful women in the economic union and had eventually led to her marrying into the Vehn family. Power was everything to her. Well, at least, it had been then. Her marriage to Liam had never been perfect. They’d squabbled, bickered, but tried to put on a brave face in public and for their son. She found Liam to be a trouble-maker, a man who wanted to enjoy the spoils of their fortunes without having to put in the work to earn them. That bothered her.

When Jack came along, Kaitlyn had mistakenly believed that would fix their struggling marriage. Jack’s arrival into their lives only made their relationship worse. Even during her exile, Kaitlyn couldn’t help but massage this nagging feeling that Liam was up to no good, that he was not really working hard to get her back home and that he was using her ban from Druckenwell to his own personal advantage. But she thought she was being paranoid, maybe even insecure despite her own external beauty. After all, not all of the Vehn family was rotten. Verity was nice, her family seemed grounded enough. But everyone knew that Liam had been the black sheep of the family, had been the one to cause trouble wherever he went. Kaitlyn tried to put on a brave face, had tried to fix Liam, but the man couldn’t be fixed. He had to fix himself. That day would never come. And so, Kaitlyn realized, perhaps her exile had been appropriately timed. It had given her time to get away from her husband, his problems, their problems, and really focus on a project that could make her feel good again. The Nar Shaddaa Smugglers had made her feel worthwhile, wanted, and oddly enough, even loved. Still, her marriage troubled her.

This particular afternoon she had off from any career related work. She’d just wrapped up a trip to the grocery store and Jack wouldn’t be needing to be picked up from school for a few more hours. Liam was at home working on budget outlines to be presented to the Board of Tribunes and Kaitlyn was hoping they could snuggle up together and enjoy some quality time away from the strain of parenthood and the public eye. She entered the family home, set her groceries on the counter, and made her way toward the bedroom, all smiles, thinking of all the ways she could surprise her husband.

As she made her way down the hallway, she thought she heard laughter, shrugged it off as a holoprogram that Liam was watching. The bedroom door was slightly ajar. Kaitlyn thought that was odd. She pushed the door aside and saw her husband in bed with another woman. Not just any woman, though, his personal secretary. Some young bimbo he’d picked up off the street during his many prowls through college campuses looking for fresh meat, the next score, whatever.

“Kaitlyn!” Liam protested, shoving the young woman off his chest. “It’s not what you think!”

Kaitlyn reached for the holdout blaster she always carried at the small of her back, a habit after being public enemy number one. Rage flowed through her veins. Rage at the confirmation of what she had always suspected about her husband and their sham marriage. She’d always played second fiddle to his desires. Now, Liam was going to experience the full responsibility of his mistake. Her fingers slipped into her holster and procured the blaster, something RTO Security had conveniently overlooked.

Liam saw the blaster, eyes widening, his girlfriend’s naked form flipping off the bed toward the relative safety of the far side of the mattress. “Don’t Kaitlyn! I can explain!”

“Explain? Explain! There’s nothing to frakking explain here, Liam! I trusted you, damn it all, I gave you everything and you have to go and frak it all up for some young two-bit whore! While I worked my ass off to get back to Druckenwell, to get back home, you were screwing around with her, having a great time, weren’t you? Never mind our marriage that died a long time ago obviously. Did you ever think about our son? Ever think that maybe if you got caught it would change his life forever? No, you didn’t. You only thought about yourself, which is what you’re best at. I ought to blow you away right here,” Kaitlyn said through gritted teeth, blaster shaking in her hand.

The tears came now, hard and hot. She leaned back against the wall, near the door, and yelled, “I loved you, you son of a Hutt! I gave you everything, everything!”

“Kaitlyn,” Liam said, slipping away from the covers, totally exposed, eyes wide with fright, fear, but no regret, no remorse.

“You stay away from me,” Kaitlyn yelled as she raised the blaster and leveled it at her husband.

“Baby, come on, it was a simple mistake,” Liam cooed.

“It’s going to be the last one you’re making as my husband,” Kaitlyn threatened and pulled the trigger. His girlfriend screamed.

Her shaking hand sent the shot grazing past Liam’s shoulder. The impact jarred him and flung him into the bed. She wanted to aim for where it would really hurt him but the day had been bad enough, the nightmare had to end at some point. She turned and ran away from the bedroom. Her decision had been made for her. Druckenwell held nothing for her anymore. She wanted nothing to do with the Board of Tribunes. All she wanted to do was take her son and go, anywhere but here.

A half hour later she did just that.

---

A Day Later, Vehn Family Ranch of Tesserone, Roon

“I need you to take Jack for me for awhile, Verity. Just until I can tidy up a few loose ends,” Kaitlyn said.

“You’re really leaving Liam, aren’t you?” Verity asked.

Kaitlyn nodded her face as impassive as the mountains in the distance.

“I always knew he was trouble,” Verity said. “To go and sleep with another woman, unthinkable. I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship.”

Kaitlyn took Verity’s hand in her own and looked up with blood-shot eyes from all her crying, “Not in a million years, Verity. You’ve always been good to me. I just need a few weeks to sort things out, that’s all.”

“You going to keep the Vehn name? Despite all this it still carries some weight around the galaxy..” Verity said.

“I don’t know,” Kaitlyn replied.

“You know he’s going to want Jack back,” Verity said.

“I know,” Kaitlyn said.

“He’ll fight you for him,” Verity warned.

“He’ll try. He’s never won a fight against me and he won’t win this one,” Kaitlyn said.

“I wouldn’t want to fight you, Kaitlyn,” Verity said with a hint of a smile, “you’re too damn good at it.”

---

Six Boroughs, Nar Shaddaa, One Day Before the All-Star Game

“The construction crews are in place and hired. Everyone’s got a good idea of the plan and might I say that the new stadium is going to be spectacular,” the construction foreman said.

Kaitlyn looked up at Six Boroughs. It was the day before the All-Star game, the last venue to be held at old Six Boroughs. How many eyes had rested on this stadium? How many people had come to witness the power and glory of Limmie firsthand at Six
Boroughs? How many Limmie legends had once played on these hallowed grounds?

“Can you finish the job before the season opener?”

The foreman looked at Kaitlyn underneath the hard hat that he wore. “If I work the crews around the clock but the unions aren’t going to—“

“Never mind the unions,” Kaitlyn said cutting the foreman off, “you just carry out our plans. I’ll deal with them.”

“Is that legal?”

“I’ll make it legal,” Kaitlyn said with a hard look.

---

Private Residence of Tover Micjaa, Nar Shaddaa

“We came real close last season,” Tover said over a stiff drink.

“But not close enough. Did you see the way Kether lifted that trophy above her? Like she’d just defeated the Galactic Empire,” Kaitlyn said.

“Seen that look a few times,” Tover replied. “Might have even given it a few times myself. Say, you doing all right? I heard about your husband.”

“Ex-husband,” Kaitlyn corrected, “and I’m doing as well as I can. You don’t live to be a strong person without taking a few chinks in your armor along the way. My husband is dead to me. I’m doing what I can to take Nar Shaddaa to unparalleled heights here.”

“You can, Kaitlyn, I believe you can, but don’t lose sight of the prize. Don’t let yourself be consumed by misery and self-pity, alright?”

“What are you, a Jedi Master or something?”

Tover laughed. “No, Kaitlyn, just someone who cares.”

“Just keep your focus on Limmie, will you?” Kaitlyn reminded her friend.

“Speaking of Limmie, I wanted to run something by you,” Tover said.

“Shoot.”

“How would you like to be general manager? I can show you the ropes, teach you all I know, what’d you say?”

Kaitlyn was taken aback. She knew a little more about Limmie than she did a year ago but there was so much to learn. “Aren’t you more suited for the job?”

“I like to focus on the ground level, on the coaching side of things. You could be a respected general manager, you know. There have only been a few people who have been able to pull off being an owner and a general manager. You would be one of them,” Tover suggested.

“I’ll think on it,” Kaitlyn replied as she stared out at the city lights.

So much was changing. So much had changed. What more would 275 ABY bring for her?

Tag: No One

 

IC: Jed Ortmeyer

General Manager’s office, Thyferra

Jed sat in stony silence in the GM’s office here at Thyferra Stadium. Lorrin Malestra, the long-time Thyferran GM, looked at him with a blank look on her face. The Force had just wrapped up what many onlookers had said was probably the worst season they could have possibly had, a win in a meaningless “playoff” game giving them a mercy victory to finish the season 2-7 overall. How could a team that had once climbed to the pinnacle of the sport, having won a conference title, a Challenges trophy, and even been to the Elite League and made the playoffs there, fall so low? What was behind this precipitous drop, and whose heads were on the chopping block because of it?

“Jed, you know why I called you in here today,” Lorrin finally said.

“You’re going to fire me, aren’t you?” Jed said with a sigh. He had seen this coming from miles away. The fans probably had too. He just wanted this to be over with so that he could head to the bar one last time before leaving town. Who knew? He might just have to get drunk to forget.

Lorrin paused. “Jed . . . it was a rough decision, but it had to be made. You did a lot for this organization, and we would like to thank you for what you did, this last season notwithstanding. So, the verdict came, and . . . we’re keeping you on.”

“What?” Jed asked incredulously. So they were going to keep him as a coach in some capacity?

“I talked to the organization brass earlier today,” Lorrin said. “And they think you’re still the best man for the job down here with your experience.” Jed knew that he could breathe a small bit of relief here; that was the best possible news that he could have heard in this situation. Gark and company obviously felt that he had more to offer the franchise than someone else would, most likely due to his experience with the team dating back to 269, their first year as a developmental squad. Experience was at a premium here, and that probably was what could save him.

“That being said, they wanted you to know that you’re on a short leash,” Lorrin said. “Basically, improve a little bit, and they’ll keep your contract full. But at some point you can’t keep losing every game and get away with it. It just doesn’t look good. Also, we have become aware of your drinking habits. That is included in your leash agreement. We want you to clean up or ship out. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes. But I have a question.”

“Go on.”

“It’s not that I’m not grateful for the opportunity, and the second chance, but what exactly do I have to work with?” Jed asked. He didn’t know what moves had been made by the team; they had kept him in the dark until now because this meeting had been scheduled to fill him in on everything. Or to fire him in a formal setting, had the Senators decided that was the best option.

“Let me put it to you this way, Jed,” Lorrin said. “We’re starting over.”

“Starting over?” Jed asked. He knew this was coming. The writing had been on the wall.

“We’re only keeping on a few players from last year,” Lorrin replied.

“Who?” That sounded like more than Jed thought he would have to work with. There might be hope after all!

“Let me take a look,” Lorrin said as she pulled out a datapad. “Hm, looks like the jury is still going to be out on Mr. Tarpals here . . .”

Jed didn’t know what to make of this move. Jam Tarpals, a Helmsman finalist in college, had been his starting goalie for part of this past season, and there were many times where Jed wished he could do away with the Gungan on his team. Tarpals wasn’t showing the kind of get up and go that Jed wanted from his players, and he was struggling to develop his talent in the pro game. On the other hand, with a defensive unit last season that couldn’t put a lid on anyone, Tarpals had been forced to save entire games Meredith Chambers-style. Yet he was no Meredith Chambers. The kid had been thrown into a sticky mess, and perhaps he would never recover. But, on the other hand, this was an LFL team; the rookies were supposed to struggle. That was why they were here, not on Coruscant. Gark wanted pro prospects out of the Force, and it was Jed’s job to get them ready for the Big Show, as the Elite League was known. Perhaps a change of defenses would get Tarpals around to his old self?

“We’re also eating the guaranteed draft contracts of Ganos Fama and Leah Nergbolt,” Lorrin said. Two defenders with LFL experience who had come off the bench last season. Not the worst situation, but like Tarpals, they needed more time to develop. “Then there’s Alex Renhorn and Almert Song. Those two seem untouchable to me.”

“What about Worody?” Jed asked.

“She’s been called up to Coruscant,” Lorrin said, proving that the Senators were indeed going to add the talented Togruta Full Forward to their roster for training camp.

“Anyone else?” Jed asked. He could only count 5 right there, a far cry from the 26 he had going into last season.

“Rainy Frantsen,” Lorrin said.

“Hm?” Jed asked. Rainy had been the captain this past season after old leader Mychele Lysar had gotten the call-up, but she had struggled mightily and appeared to be spinning her wheels down here.

“However, that might change with time,” Lorrin said. “It was decided that we needed a veteran presence on this squad, one with captain experience.”

“Why couldn’t someone else do that?” Jed asked. “Rainy was anything but good last season.”

“Everyone else got cut,” Lorrin said. “Sdent, Paz, Dypral, Van Derven, Futter, Longo, Kotraf, Crollue . . . you get the picture. She’s the only real veteran we have left on the roster, and that’s a big ‘if’.” There were several awkwardly silent seconds that passed before she continued. “And our last returning player, at least for now, is Vilnova Rickmond.”

That was an interesting play, Jed thought when he heard Rickmond’s name brought up. She had been a last-second signee going into last season, and he hadn’t played her much early. But she had been a decent option later on in the year, so perhaps she would bring experience. Either that, or her name would be crossed off the list later on if someone better could be found. A real training camp body if he had one on this team, the Limmie equivalent of cannon fodder.

“That’s only seven players,” Jed said. “Maybe fewer, if things are going to get worse rather than better with time, and we decide that some of them need to go. Are you asking me if I’m fine with a complete rebuild?”

“Pam came in here all those years ago with just three established players and made something of them all,” Lorrin said with a shrug.

“But Pam’s different. She’s just that damn good at coaching!” Jed sputtered.

“And you aren’t capable of doing the same?” Lorrin asked.

This was the dagger statement from the GM to Jed. She was challenging him, throwing down the gauntlet at his feet and expecting him to do something with it. He had now hit the fork in the road; would he just fall down and let things roll over him, or could he rise up and do what Pam had, making this team into a perennial contender from almost nothing?

“It would help if I knew what I was getting in terms of pieces to work with,” Jed said stiffly.

“The Draft should provide you with a body or two, and then there might be some decent free agents out there that we could use,” Lorrin said. “Always a good crop of new players every year that fall through the cracks and land in lower leagues. We need to scout them and make them an offer before someone else does.”

“And who do I have to coach them?” Jed asked.

“Not a lot at the moment. But that will soon change,” Lorrin said.

“I take it that the rebuild will include the coaching staff?” Jed asked. It seemed like a simple question, and was rather obvious. A rebuild usually entailed trashing the old system and starting fresh.

Lorrin nodded. “Polix and Cam did not have their contracts renewed, so they will not return next season.” OC and DC gone, leaving MC, Jed thought.

“And Artie?” Jed asked.

“He’ll be back next season,” Lorrin said. Artie Gurvey, the Nemoidian midfield coach, was going to stick around after all.

“Pam’s behind that, isn’t she?” Jed asked.

“Let’s just say that she had a hand in that conversation,” Lorrin replied curtly.

“Then who do I have to replace the other two?” Jed asked.

“You want to find out?” Lorrin asked. Jed nodded.

“I have a feeling that you’ll like them,” Lorrin said. “Or completely hate them. It’s your choice on how you feel about them, but I don’t know if your opinion will go far on the matter.”

“All right, get on with it,” Jed said, sighing.

“We will be having a new trainer,” Lorrin replied.

“What happened to our old one?”

“Retired. She said she was finished working, and wants to take some time off,” Lorrin said. “But I think our new replacement will be of fine character. I think he can introduce himself. Come on in,” she said to a comlink on her desk. The door in the back opened, and in stepped a mammalian man about a meter and a half high. The head was supported on a long neck, with small beady eyes and a long snout to complete his face. His fingers looked readily available for delicate tasks, as they were slim like a pencil. Jed stared at the man as he stepped inside, wearing a Force t-shirt that was too big for him.

“Please introduce yourself. Oh, and this is Jed Ortmeyer, our head coach for next season.”

“Tama Wor,” said the creature, extending his hand for Jed to shake. Jed returned the gesture, but felt like he could easily crush the man’s fingers in his hand just by squeezing.

“Excuse me, but what exactly are you?” Jed asked.

“I am a Carosite,” Wor said. “We are renowned throughout the galaxy for our talent in the medical fields. I am sure that I can use what I have learned in working in hospitals to good use here with the team.”

“He is a fine medical person to have on staff,” Lorrin said.

“I must warn you, though, we Carosites are also known to be fanatical about the health of our patients,” Wor continued. “If you want a player who has been injured to return to the game when they are not ready, then we may be in for a radical disagreement.”

“And how is that a good thing?”

“Mr. Ortmeyer, I take the health of my patients very seriously,” Wor replied in a gruff tone. “And I will pass my judgment on who is available for a game and who is not. I will not let anyone injure a player, or re-injure them, by forcing them to return to a game before they are ready. Am I clear?”

“Readily,” Jed said, sighing.

“Good. I look forward to this season,” the Carosite said.

“And now for your new defensive coordinator. He’s got the gift of gab, that’s for sure,” Lorrin commented. “Come on in,” she said to the comlink.

The door opened once more, and Jed turned around to meet his new coordinator. What he was met with was a huge walking bird. His eyebrows shot skyward at this. Lorrin, Gark, and the rest must be joking. They sent a Calibop to work under him? That was just great, wasn’t it?

“Jed, meet Travers Mercator,” Lorrin said. “Travers, meet Jed Ortmeyer.”

“I am, simply put, here to put the Force’s defense back on the map,” Mercator said in a broad tone.

“Are you going to chat my ear off about it?” Jed asked, obviously not amused.

“Only when necessary,” Mercator replied. “Unlike my relatives, I actually find action more suitable than words. Of course, I can still gabble with the best of them.”

“Great,” Jed said, but he didn’t mean it. Where in the hell had they come up with this guy, anyways?

“Last but not least, your new offensive coordinator,” Lorrin continued. “She’s quite a ball of energy, that’s all I know.”

In came a blue-skinned woman . . . correction . . . an attractive chalk-skinned woman . . . an Echani, to be precise. And she looked every bit a rather upbeat individual.

“Jed, meet your new offensive guru, Sulena Gure,” Lorrin said. The Echani woman smiled.

“I like the introduction, I really do,” she said. “So you’re Jed Ortmeryer, eh? Galactic Cup winner. Went out on a high note back in 268, I remember. ‘Course, I was still in college then. Grown up a lot since then. I was a player once, you know. Not the best, obviously, but I learned a lot.”

“How old are you?” Jed asked.

“25,” Gure replied.

“What?” Jed asked. This woman was only a few years out of college? What did the coaches take him for?”

“But I’ll have you know that I bring a lot of experience to the table. I may not have been the best player, but I can coach with the best of them when it comes to strategy. You ever hear of the Pistol Offense?”

“The what?” Jed asked.

“Oh, never mind. I’ll teach it to you at some point,” the Echani said.

“Excuse me, but we have a system in place right now,” Jed replied.

“Hardly,” Gure replied. “When I talked with management, they said they were looking for someone with a lot of energy and drive. And I happen to have both of those in spades. Also, they said that I might need to install a new system if that’s what it takes, since the old one obviously isn’t working like it used to.”

“We’re supposed to run the same system,” Jed said, taken aback. “We’ve always run the Wing-T.”

“And you had the worst offense in the league last year by a long shot,” Gure replied curtly. “Face it, Ortmeyer, you need a new philosophy if you want to succeed. And I’m willing to help you install a new ground-based system that just might work.”

“Fine. What is it?” Jed asked. He was sick of the Wing-T being so thoroughly whipped here, by a woman only a few years out of college, no less!

“The Pistol Offense is rather simple, being as only a few smaller colleges such as University of Naavadaa and Pirtolanda State University use it,” Gure said. “The pros are too caught up in their aerial attacks and ‘spread it out’ crap to really get what this offense can do. It’s based on a ground attack that punishes the opposing defense without scrapping the air-it-out bit completely by utilizing ball fakes and handoff options. Besides, this kind of system will get them ready for the next level, when they’ll need both scoring ability and the intangibles of blocking and motion that feature in this offense. What you need are mobile forwards, and a field general worth their salt. And I intend to find one real soon.”

“How is this different from the old system?” Jed asked, one eyebrow cocked up in a questioning manner.

“Enough of this, you two,” Lorrin said, cutting her way into the conversation. “We need to determine our plan of attack going forwards. Jed, you need to get used to your new coaches and trainer, because they will be helping you out this season. Artie couldn’t make it today, so it will be the four of you. And with that, I need to take my leave. Management wants me to call back, and I have a few things they might need to discuss.”

With that, the four were pushed out of the office. Jed knew that this upcoming season was going to be difficult, much more difficult than he originally intended or thought was possible.

TAG: No One (unless anyone wants to comment on my lame jokes )

 

IC: Aay'han Vhett
Visitor's locker room, Grande Villa, Rydonni Prime.

​

Champions. For the second time in three years the Concordia Crusaders could say that they were the last team standing in their league. Coming into the post season Vhett wasn't sure that anyone on the Merc's developmental team would have thought they stood a chance of reaching this plateau once again so quickly. They were the 4 seed, and had taken out the #1 Red Wings in the Semi finals and now, the #2 seeded Marksmen in an overtime thriller. It just went to show you, anything could happen in the playoffs. If only the Crusaders success could somehow be transferred to their parent club.

Vhett watched appreciatively as the ne'tra gal flowed freely. The players poured it over themselves, their team mates and their coaches. Checking her chrono, Vhett saw that the team had just enough time for a short celebration before a clean up crew could make the locker room ready for the Galactic Cup Championship game. Everyone was having a wonderful time, especially Mereel, who had scored the eventual game winning point in overtime. Still, despite all the fun, there was business at hand. She announced loudly.

"Enjoy yourselves, all of you. A job well done." She paused as one of the players, a young corner back approached her, ready to pour his a bottle of the black ale over her shaved head. A look from her steely cold eyes stopped him in his tracks. "When we depart, I will need to see Mereel, Horonel and Soker before we arrive back home." The mentioned players lift their heads up, they knew what this had to be. "Until then, and until you get kicked out of here. Enjoy yourselves, you are champions, and a certain inspiration to the troops at the front."

Cries of "Oya!" could be heard coming from everyone now as she left the locker room and the team to their celebration. She would have more work to do upon her return.

TAG: No one.

 

​

​

Mando'ade Mercs player transactions.

Mando'ade Mercs announce the resigning of:

• Right Half Back: Jett Hanson (Human, Male) to 2 year contract
• Center Half Back: Jase Hanson (Human, Male) to 2 year contract
• Left Half Back: Steen Hanson (Human Female) to 2 year contract
• Right Corner Back: "Killer" K'Karlson (Whipid, Male) to 3 year contract
• Midfielder: Arick Vau (Human Mandalorian, Male) to 3 year contract
• Right Corner Forward: Tsulkalu (Wookiee, Female) to 2 year contract
• Full Forward: Lycar Naughten (Shistavanen Male) to 2 year contract
• Left Corner Forward: Rajah Rollko (Shistavanen Female) to 2 year contract
• Left Corner Forward: Flarn (Yuzzem Male) to 1 year contract
• Left Half Forward: Kellie Dupont (Twi'lek female ) to 1 year contract

Mando'ade Mercs release to Free Agency:

• Midfielder: Ogeeogilthorp (Wookiee, Male)

Mando'ade Mercs announce the promotion of:

• Half Forward: Melia Soker (Human, Female) Contract year: 278
• Midfielder: Jolis Horonel (Human, Male) Contract year: 276
• Corner Forward: Kad Mereel (Human Mandalorian, Male) Contract year: 280

from the Concordia Crusaders to the Mando'ade Mercs.


TAG: Trieste

 

GM Post

And now it is time to bid old Six Boroughs goodbye with the 274 Elite League All Star Game! Woo hoo! Because it's an all-star game with nothing riding on it, I decided to make the maximum rolls 50 since most all-star games have ridiculously high scores when both teams are playing for kicks. In the event the following score (which I have not generated as I type) is ridiculously high, my profuse apologies to the defense(s) of the team(s).

274 Elite League All-Star Game
Six Boroughs Stadium, Nar Shaddaa
Solo Conference vs. Skywalker Conference (25-30)

React, interact, and post as you all see fit.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Rebecca_Daniels Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn

 

GM Post

--Transaction Wire--
Coruscant Senators

• Ava Killenger (Human, Female, Forward/Defender, Coruscant Polytechnic Institute) signed to an entry-level contract

TAG: Jedi Gunny

 

GM Approved, and Ready for Action

Name: Ava Killenger
Species: Human
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Coruscant
Birth Year: 253
Image: Found here

Biography: Ava "Killshot" Killenger, or at least the moniker that her friends gave her for no reason whatsoever, has always been around Limmie. She has been accustomed to playing almost any position on the field, starting with Little League ball and working on up through college, although her best positions are at the Half Forward/Back spots. Growing up only a few miles away from Forrest Heights on Coruscant, Ava was unsure if she wanted to attend CorTech even though she was technically in their backyard. She was being recruited by other Super 16 schools, and was unsure of where to attend college.

That all changed when a chance encounter with then-CorTech defensive coordinator Izzi Polakaya at a high school game entrenched CorTech's interest in Ava's skills on the Limmie field. Although she was intent on thinking about the offer, she finally accepted and headed off to school at CorTech, which had to find replacements at half back after the highly successful 270 campaign.

Ava had an up-and-down career at CorTech. She never felt completely comfortable on defense, and when she finally played mostly offense her senior season as team captain taken over from graduated senior Malida Worody, she was able to put up the kind of stats necessary to garner pro team interest, but still struggled at times. Now she is intent on making the Senators out of camp and playing for her homeworld team, not to mention being more consistent in her play.

 

IC: Lucie Vigo

Lucie spent the evening of the Galactic Cup Final with Ty. They did not watch the game. Ty insisted it would be no fun, even painful to watch. Apparently the wound of losing the championship game still had not healed. It was incredibly peaceful in the park that evening. Ty and Lucie shared a picnic dinner by the lake. As the sun set behind them Ty invited Lucie to Nar Shaddaa. She agreed, it may not be the most romantic planet in the Galaxy, but she would be there with Ty and that would make it exceptional in some way, she was sure of it.

She could have stayed at the hotel and watched the game from the comfort of the plush king sized bed and ordered room service. But Lucie decided to attend the All-Star game. It was a new experience for her to see a Limmie game from the stands. She rather enjoyed it at first. She didn’t have 19 other people to keep track of, no last minute decisions about formations, a place to sit for the entire game, and best of all she could wear whatever she wanted. Lucie chose to wear tight jeans and a Starkillers hoodie. She was just getting comfortable when she heard familiar grunts. The Gamorrean fan she had famously run into so many times the previous season was just a few sections away. He was waving; Lucie pretended she did not see him.

His waiving was not discreet and many of the fans around her noticed. They looked to see what or who the Gamorrean was waiving at and suddenly she had been recognized. A young male Twi’lek who was accompanied by a female Twi’lek just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “You’re one of those Starkiller dancers!” He exclaimed. “You are by far the best and most beautiful of all of them if I do so say myself.” He added rather foolishly.

His female companion obviously didn’t share his opinion. She gave him a fierce kick in the shin causing his face to contort in pain. “Ow” he said aloud. “I didn’t say she was prettier than you are” he added defensively.

“And you should thank the stars you didn’t!” The woman declared crossing her arms over her chest she turned to look in the opposite direction.

The incident was enough to keep the rest of the male population in the section from commenting. Lucie bought a diet Fizz from a vendor, she sat back in her chair and put her hood over her head determined to keep to herself and enjoy the game.

OOC: This is my final post as Lucie so I’ll share the song that inspired me to name her Lucie in the first place. It’s appropriate for the occasion.



Tag: No one

 

GM APPROVED

Name: Fenton Tobles

Gender: Male

Birth Year: 254

Physical Appearance: 6’0, heavyset, fair skinned human

Home world: Ralltiir

Relation to Team: Food Vendor



Fenton grew up in an upper class neighborhood outside of Cambrielle. The only child of two working parents he was content for most of his childhood. Suddenly at age 15 Fenton’s father who had always played a major role in Fenton’s life walked out on his family. Fenton was devastated. His mother did everything she could to make up for the loss of his father, which basically meant allowing Fenton to have all the material goods he wanted and enforcing no rules. Fenton’s grades in school plummeted and he spent most of his time playing holo games. By the age of 20 his life consisted of little more than a copy of ELL '74 and the large video screen he played it on. He took one course per semester at a local college at his mother’s insistence, but he rarely even showed up for class. Then Fenton’s mother met someone and not just anyone a new love interest. At first Fenton was happy for his mother, but when their relationship became serious Fenton’s comfortable lifestyle was jeopardized. This new found love of his mother’s convinced his mother to start making rules again. Fenton was being forced to get a job.

Fenton thought he had a full proof plan. He went to Bankers Mansion Stadium where his beloved Starkillers played and applied for several jobs. He thought he’d never hear back. He would tell his mother that he tried to get a job, but no one hired him. Then he got the shocking news he’d received an interview at the stadium. In order to prove to his mother that he had at least tried Fenton went to the interview and was even more surprised a week later when he received a call congratulating him on his new position as a food vendor at Bankers Mansion Stadium. Despite his love for all things ELL Fenton was not excited about his new job. He rather liked watching the games from the comfort of his own home. At orientation he also learned that he’d be working all events at the stadium, not just ELL games, but concerts, traveling circuses and any other events that took place there all year. The night Fenton learned he had been hired he ordered fried everything form his from his favorite take out spot, raided the frozen desserts his mother kept stashed and watched a holodrama.

 

GM Post​

Elite League Limmie 275: A Year in the Lives​

​

A year in the Elite League is not a long time. As popularly conceived, it spans the several weeks of the regular season and three weeks of glorious limmie known as the Galactic Cup Playoffs. However, that is only properly what is known as “the season.” It is a small fragment of an Elite League Limmie year.

It started on Bakura and Rydonni Prime the day after those two teams played each other, perhaps even earlier than that when they knew that there would be no postseason for each.

For Mando'ade and Agamar it started with the crushing tiebreak loss on the last day of the season that definitely ended their seasons and put them at home for the playoffs that had just days before seemed so tantalizingly close.

On Ylesia and Coruscant it started at the end of a Conference Semifinal game on the road, each against a member of the Big Four with bitter defeat.

On Nar Shaddaa it started with yet another defeat in Euceron Stadium what had begun as a throwaway season and become a fantastic comeback was cut short, another shot at glory just one missing goal away.

And for Euceron, it cruelly started on the grass of The Grande Villa as the green and white confetti fell around them.

The year includes the culmination of intense college scouting and decision-making that leads up to the Elite League Draft. The decisions made during the draft could decide the course of teams for years, perhaps a decade or more.

Then there is training camp as players are tested and tried, formed into cohesive units. Some will earn their spots in the rarified air of an Elite League roster. Others will find their hopes shattered.

For some there will be friendly games, the early tests of their skills. The evaluations will continue there as players show what they can do in a game. And yet in a game that means nothing, what will truly be learned?

Then comes the start of the season, when the chips are down and all shall be revealed leading up to the awarding of that most precious trophy, the Galactic Cup of Limmie.

This year will be watched by many and every team in the Elite League will have the eyes of a galaxy upon them. Each team will be measured in their own way by each being who cares about them.

Will this year be measured in goals?

In assists?

In blocks?

In missed points?

In wins?

In losses?

In injuries?

In awards?

In all-stars?

In seedings?

In draft choices?

In trades?

In locker room celebrations?

In handshakes between opponents?

In rivalries?

In penalties?

In attendance?

In profit?

In names inscribed in a curve of silver?

In the year of 275, everyone will have their answer one way or another.

---

275 Elite League Limmie Season Schedule


Week 1
Euceron Storm at Coruscant Senators
Ylesia Lightning at Bakura Miners
Agamar Packers at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
Corellia Rebels at Ralltiir Starkillers
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Chandrila Patriots
Mando’ade Mercs at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers

Week 2
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Corellia Rebels
Chandrila Patriots at Euceron Storm
Coruscant Senators at Ylesia Lightning
Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
Ralltiir Starkillers at Mando’ade Mercs
Bakura Miners at Agamar Packers

Week 3
Ylesia Lightning at Chandrila Patriots
Agamar Packers at Coruscant Senators
Mando’ade Mercs at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
Euceron Storm at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Ralltiir Starkillers
Corellia Rebels at Bakura Miners

Week 4
Ralltiir Starkillers at Euceron Storm
Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Ylesia Lightning
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
Bakura Miners at Mando’ade Mercs
Chandrila Patriots at Agamar Packers
Coruscant Senators at Corellia Rebels

Week 5
Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Bakura Miners
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Ralltiir Starkillers
Coruscant Senators at Chandrila Patriots
Euceron Storm at Agamar Packers
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Ylesia Lightning
Mando’ade Mercs at Corellia Rebels

Week 6
Ralltiir Starkillers at Chandrila Patriots
Coruscant Senators at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Bakura Miners
Agamar Packers at Ylesia Lightning
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Corellia Rebels
Mando’ade Mercs at Euceron Storm

Week 7
Bakura Miners at Ralltiir Starkillers
Chandrila Patriots at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Coruscant Senators
Ylesia Lightning at Corellia Rebels
Agamar Packers at Mando’ade Mercs
Euceron Storm at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers

Week 8
Chandrila Patriots at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
Bakura Miners at Coruscant Senators
Ralltiir Starkillers at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
Ylesia Lightning at Euceron Storm
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Mando’ade Mercs
Corellia Rebels at Agamar Packers

Week 9
Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
Ralltiir Starkillers at Coruscant Senators
Bakura Miners at Chandrila Patriots
Corellia Rebels at Euceron Storm
Agamar Packers at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
Ylesia Lightning at Mando’ade Mercs

---

Teneniel Chume Hall, Hapes

"Gentlebeings, welcome to Hapes," Niakara Kayl'hen proclaimed, "for the 275 Elite League Limmie Draft. Without further ado, let's get things started.

"The Rydonni Prime Monarchs are now on the clock."

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Rebecca_Daniels Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn

 

IC: Meredith Chambers
One Final Night at Six Boroughs

"I’m going to miss this place, John,” Meredith said as she stood on the sidelines of the old girl where
she had once played her heart out and subsequently turned from Limmie rookie to Limmie legend.

“Me too,” John Huntington replied.

“Remember 267?” Meredith said referring to the championship run that she had played with Huntington.

“As if it were yesterday,” John said, “the best year of my career.”

“Do you miss playing?” Meredith asked.

“All the time,” John replied with a wistful smile, “all the damn time.”

“Mind a friendly game of Limmie?” Tover Micjaa called from further down the sideline, an old Limmie ball tucked under his arm. He was wearing his old Smugglers jersey. Even after all these years the Burgundy and Black still looked good on him.

“Think you still got it, old man?” Meredith taunted.

Tover flung the ball hard at Meredith which she caught with the fast reflexes of an experienced goalie.

“Alright,” Meredith grunted, “We’re short a few players though for a game.”

“I brought some friends with me,” Tover said jerking his thumb behind him.

Meredith’s mouth dropped open as former Smuggler greats like Selene Minn, Cally Thrace, and Gunba Pemiti stepped out onto the field wearing the jerseys from their time with the team. Some of these players Meredith had played with during her rookie year nearly thirteen years ago. Others, well, she’d only dreamed about playing a game of Limmie with them.

“You got a jersey for me?” Meredith asked her boss.

Tover smiled and whistled. Cally, looking fit as ever despite her aging years, threw Tover a wadded up jersey which he relayed to Meredith. Meredith unfolded the jersey, saw her name in white lettering on the back, saw her infamous number 13 stitched on the jersey and laughed. It was good to wear the uniform again.

When the teams had dressed and been divided as equally as they could, Tover and Meredith met at midfield for the coin toss. This was a match up that had never happened in real life but would have made any Smuggler fan foam at the mouth. Chambers, Micjaa, Huntington, Minn, Thrace, Pemiti, Luy’kin, and a few others whom Chambers did not know, all playing on Six Boroughs’ hallowed grounds for one last game. It was a dream come true.

Micjaa’s team won the toss and Meredith jogged back into the goal and felt as if she’d returned home after a thousand years away. This felt right. This was meant to be.



The ball was punted into action and as Meredith tracked the high-arcing kick in the friendliest game she’d played in years she realized at this moment how much she’d miss this field, this stadium, and all of its wonderful memories.

“Game on,” Meredith whispered to the empty stands.

And what a beautiful game it was.

IC: Six Boroughs Stadium

I have seen much in my time.

I have stood for the Vertical City as a beacon of light, of justice, of glory, of hope, and of victory for nearly 120 years.

I have seen great Smugglers teams play under my lights and reveled in every playoff victory, every hoisting of the Galactic Cup, every moment that drew even more greatness and glory to the Burgundy and Black.

I saw the cataclysmic rise of Rhia Grames, soared underneath the steadying strength of Tover Mijcaa, and felt the raw passion of Meredith Chambers on the glorious grass that I tended, loved, and poured my very being into so that these great stars could
play the beautiful game like none other.

I have felt the raw energy of the Smuggler faithful who filled my seats with rabid anticipation of a new Limmie season. Felt their breath be swept away in delirium as another stunning victory, another memorable play, unfolds underneath my golden lights and I
have known the sadness of defeat, the anger, the frustration, the depression, of another losing season, but still they come back, still they believe, each and every year, hoping that this season, this moment, is the one that will return the Smugglers to hallowed grounds.

But am I not hallowed as well? Am I not looked upon as one of the last great stadiums of professional sports? I believe that I am. I believe that when the people of the Vertical City look upon my aging exterior, my sagging infrastructure, they see a flash of the past, they see all that I was and all that I could be, they see dreams realized and dreams lost, but there is love in their eyes as well, love for what I have accomplished, and love for what I have done to those players and teams who could truly call themselves great.

But my time is passing.

The sport that I have nurtured on this beautiful moon has changed and evolved as all things must do. There is a greater demand being placed upon my tired body and I hear whispers in the dark that I am to be replaced, that I no longer function as I once did, that my time has come and gone. I will no longer hear the raucous cheering of ‘The Crew’, no longer look upon the young stars of today or remember the titans of the past. Will those who have the power to decide whether I live or die remember what I have done for this moon? Will they remember that when I was first built there was great chaos in this city? How I brought stability to the Six Boroughs. How I stopped the fighting between rival gangs. How I learned to be a symbol of all that was good and right in a city that had little reason to hope, or dream, or believe in much of anything.

I pray that they remember. I pray that they acknowledge that while I lived, while I opened my doors to the masses, I made a difference. I believe I made a difference for the young child who has just discovered that glorious smell of freshly clipped grass of a professional sporting stadium, seen the verdant green pitch for the first time while their parent leads them down the tunnel to their seats, who looks in awe at the sights and sounds of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers, and who learns to live and love the world of Elite League Limmie all over again.

But I also struck fear into the hearts of my enemies.

When the bitter rivals of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers played a game in my backyard they knew true fear. They knew that their days were numbered. They knew that to beat the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers also meant that they had to beat me. And those victories were rare when I was in my prime. Those victories were few and far between.

I reflect on my proudest moment of existence in 270 ABY when the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers played underneath my glorious lights and won a Galactic Cup, here, before my very eyes. I experienced then the true meaning of the beautiful game. The true meaning of what it meant to win that silver chalice. It was as if I were a proud parent watching my children accomplish the greatest feat of their lives and I smiled, I even laughed, and I enjoyed every minute as if it were my last. And in some sense it was my last glorious moment, my swan song before I departed into the darkness.

These last few years have been challenging as I recognize my own vulnerabilities and see my life flash before my eyes. All the teams, all the players, who once called my hallowed grounds home have long since moved on to new adventures. Still, I stand here, the guardian of the Vertical City, the representative of good, the symbol of strength. Must they tear me down? Must they build anew what they could just improve? I am still up to the challenge of representing this city. I am still worthy of the task of being the stadium for the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers.

But I can read the writing on the wall. They will build a new Six Boroughs on this blessed ground and new generations of fans will come and I shall be nothing more than a memory that fades with time, a memory that will fade with each passing of fans who once knew what it was to sit in my seats and watch the beautiful game unfold before their eyes. Is it possible that my energy will move into the new stadium? I hope it will. I hope I can experience a rebirth that the galaxy has never seen before. I want a new lease on life. I don’t want to die.

I have grown old and lost some of my edge, lost some of my self-respect, and like all good things I recognize that the end is near, that the days of satisfying the people of the Vertical City, the great players of the Smugglers organization, are drawing to an inevitable close. I am so tired, so very tired, I long for a new beginning.

They have come to tear me down now.

Goodbye, Nar Shaddaa.

Tag: No One


OOC: My final 274 ABY post. I know we've already transitioned into the new season but I had to get this up as I've had it done for awhile now. Six Boroughs may not be real, but in my mind, it is a true field of dreams.