Star Wars OPEN Elite League Limmie

IC: Tim Dodd - Packers' Shuttle, en-route to Mandalore

Another loss against the Lightning! And by 18 points to 34 this time. Also lost to the team, definitely for the rest of the Season, maybe for much longer, was 'Stont'. He'd sustained a broken leg after a tackle by one of the Lightning's players; and an allergy to the 'Miracle Fluid' meant that he'd have to heal the natural way, which meant extra time.

All credit to the Lightning's Staff, though, their team doctor had responded immediately to the crisis, immobilised the leg and got 'Stont' off to hospital to have it set. Tim had, of course, thanked the doctor profusely for her efforts.

Tim hadn't seen the actual incident himself, but he assumed that the Referee had (since that Gentlebeing had immediately halted play); so if the injury had been caused by a foul, any further action would be in the hands of the Lightning and/or the League.

The loss of Stont's services for the forseeable future had prompted a change in the Starting lineup. Georg would now become a reserve (to maintain balance, not for poor play) and the Goot brothers would fill the Corner Forwards' slots. Valuable experience for them, and asking the Mercs' Defenders a question. Could they cope with three almost three-metre-tall beings in the Packers' Forward line, two of them with a habit of temporarily flattening opposing players?

The Packers' troubles were as nothing when compared to the Storm's, though. Multiple deaths, ditto injuries, caused by a terrorist attack! What was Limmie turning into? In calling this the 'Season of Fire' he hadn't been wide of the mark at all! The Commissioner's stance was pointing things in the right direction, but in his opinion, didn't go far enough. It would need to be given much more thought, but the terrorists needed to be subjected to a bit of terror themselves. Because if other terrorists saw Limmie teams and Matches as a soft target, where would it end? True, this current crop had seemingly changed tactics - or had the threat of bombings been misdirection all along? Good as Jedi were, just a pair of them couldn't be in many places at once, and his opinion was that there needed to be both personnel dedicated to close protection and others to tracking the Sithspawn down and hitting them where they lived! A close consultation with Oleg was in order, when he got home. Fortunately next week's game was at the Memorial Oval.

Then there was the Away Game against the Smugglers, and still no news about Ms Vehn!


TAG: Rebecca_Daniels (for The Lightning), Bardan_Jusik.


Team Injury Report - Week 6

'Stont' (Left Corner Forward) moved to Injured Reserve - Broken Leg.


Team Roster Changes - Occasioned by Injury

Georg Sturm - moved to Reserves

Morto Goot - Moves to Left Corner Forward (Starter)

Mezgraf Goot - Moves to Right Corner Forward (Starter)

 

IC: Falene Trieste
Bankers Mansion, Cambrielle, Ralltiir

Falene pounded Niskat’s hand with their traditional high five and for good measure head-butted the BearKat in the chest.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Niskat said, getting herself ready for the game, “Let’s do this thing!”

Falene turned around in time to see the team taking the field ahead of them. The pair took off and hit the pitch for the first visit by either team to Bankers Mansion. The stadium was full, despite all the tumult in the galaxy right now, especially revolving on limmie. There was an uneasy edge on the day’s proceedings. Though the Commissioner had basically said that everyone was safe and Falene believed her, somehow Falene didn’t quite feel that way. She even had a personal protective detail, which nobody else did. That detail was staying a lot closer to Falene than usual. As she ran onto the field, there were two plainclothes Senatorial Guards to either side of her. Several more were to be deployed along the perimeter of the field so that they could be as close to Falene during the game. Of course, it only took one kook with a blaster to take a shot that would last only an instant…

Trieste shook her head and tried to put it out of her mind. This had been a crazy enough week. It had all started the moment that the Monarchs game had ended…

---

Miners’ locker room, Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura
One week earlier

Every being in the room looked at Haylee Kelt, who had just dropped her bombshell.

“What do you mean we’ve been lied to?” Alana Glencross said, breaking the silence.

“Is Anton alive?” Nelly demanded.

“No, unfortunately Lt. Jorpik is very much dead,” Kelt said, “I served in the war against the Ssi-Ruuk. Both my homeworlds asked it of me. I served with many Marines, though, and every one of them acquitted themselves bravely. I will count many of them as friends and as children of my mother for as long as I live.”

Even if she didn’t speak in Mando’a, apparently Haylee Kelt had adopted a Mandalorian turn of phrase. Falene wondered precisely how it was this Bakuran woman had become a Mando.

“It was a week ago that I returned to Ssi-Ruuk space after the meshgeroya game on Mandalore. I stopped in a cantina at the spaceport where I found one of my comrades on leave…”

---

“Well I’ll be frakked if it isn’t the alto herself,” the Marine said as he stood from his barstool. If there was anything that could get him to put his beer down, it was Haylee Kelt.

“Diarmud, you know damn well I’m a soprano. And of course I’d run into you any place where there’s a bottle of beer to be found on this dustball,” Haylee said, hugging him. She removed her helmet and set it on the bar. Plenty of Mandalorian helmets had rested on this bar over the last few months. “I’d say you’re a lucky vornskr for getting some leave, but if they stuck you here that’s cruel.”

“Eh, we all got leave after…” Diarmud’s voice trailed off before his shook his head, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all right, I know,” Haylee said. The carbine that was slung over her shoulder had been used often.

“Hey, we got to see the game. We were all real proud of you when you did your thing,” Diarmud said, “Real proud you were there, representing all of us. You did good.”

“I did what I could,” Haylee demurred.

“I hope you were rooting for Old Blue, not forgetting your roots just because you put a bucket on your skull,” Diarmud said, “Don’t tell me you wanted those Mercs to win.”

The bartender had brought Haylee a shot, which she’d already downed and she was motioning for the other. “That’s my win-win game. Somebody I like is going to win it. Can’t say the same for the Core War.”

“Preach sister,” Diarmud agreed, “You know I don’t like the Chancellor, but she’s all right, you know? I thought she was a peace-loving hippie but she stood by Taab. Now there’s a leader. He knows what needs to be done. He’s not afraid of doing what it takes to win this war, not like the rest of them.” Diarmud shook his head and called for another beer.

---

A number of drinks later…

“Haylee, Haylee…it’s frakked six ways to Primeday out here. It is so frakked up,” Diarmud said in hushed voices. He’d had quite a bit to drink with his old friend, even by Marine standards, and it was only due to the fact he’d had a healthy head start on the Mandalorian that she wasn’t in a similar state.

“Look, we all thought this was going to be a quick in-and-out, but then the damn PM decided he wanted to do nation building,” Haylee said, “Politicians.” She shook her head.

“No, Haylee, it’s worse than that,” Diarmud said, putting his head in his hands, “What I’ve seen…”

“I know, I know,” Haylee said, patting him on the back sympathetically.

“No,” Diarmud said looking up with sad eyes at her, “You weren’t there. You were on your way to Mandalore for the game when it happened. If you’d been there…”

“What are you talking about?”

Diarmud hesitated. “I can’t. They told me I can’t.”

“Diarmud, we are bound in blood together. You are son of my mother to me,” Haylee said, grasping his forearm with hers, “We have no secrets, not after this hell.”

The Marine paused and then moved his barstool closer so he could drop his voice. “It was Jorpik. I was there.”

“You were?” Haylee said. She’d gotten the news immediately—she imagined no one wearing beskargam hadn’t heard about it. “A man laying down like that for his comrades…real hero.”

“That’s the problem,” Diarmud said, “Whatever you heard, it’s not true.”

“What do you mean?”

“So we’re doing routine roadblock checks, clearing speeders in and out. Typical stuff. Jorpik and his crew had come in a couple of days after you shipped out for the game,” Diarmud explained, “He was a good guy. You know, one of the troops. Never knew that time last year he’d been playing Elite League Limmie. Incredible. Well, he’s doing security checks with the rest of us. Standard, like I said. Anyways, I’m coming out of the outpost where I’d gone to grab a ration after a buddy—Elg, you know him—had spelled me. I’m looking out at the road where Jorpik’s tapping on the glass of the speeder window. It rolls down and there’s a damn lizard inside. He says something and then…boom.”

“My Maker,” Haylee said.

“Yeah. Out of nowhere. Speeder bomb. This speeder just drove right up. None of the scanners picked it up. I heard someone say later that it was low tech stuff, the scanners were looking for the high end stuff. That’s how it got through.”

“Are you kidding me? After we bombed the saurians into a second stone age you’re going to tell me that they were scanning for high end tech?” Haylee asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, that’s what I heard,” Diarmud said, “Luckily Jorpik was the only one who died there. A couple of other soldiers got nicked up pretty good, but no big injuries. Well obviously they send out a team and a couple big wigs come out. Officer insignia and everything. Desk jockeys if I ever saw them. They tell all of us, ‘Anyone asks about what happens here, you don’t say a thing. Take a couple of weeks leave and forget about the whole thing.’ We’re all confused, but we figure, ‘Hey, leave ain’t a bad thing after seeing a thing like that.’ Then we get back to some place with a Holonet link and we hear about Jorpik throwing himself on a grenade to save all of us. We just look at each other and know it’s Sithspit. Well one of those officers comes back with us and he just says, ‘Remember, keep your mouth shut. It’s better this way.’

“It’s frakking lies is what it is. Frakking lies!” Diarmud said, his voice starting to get high.

“Hey, hey,” Haylee said, putting an arm around the Marine to calm him down, “I think it’s time to get you into a bed somewhere…”

---

“…and I knew that I had to make the truth known. Not just for Anton, but for all of them. The Bakuran chain of command does not want the galaxy to know that their attempt to rebuild Ssi-Ruuk society is failing badly and that Anton Jorpik’s death was a result of a very entrenched resistance, if not incompetence on their part,” Haylee told the locker room, “I probably should have found a Senator or something like this, but Anton Jorpik was a brother in arms to me. You were his meshgeroya family. You deserved to know the truth more than any others.”

“Why would they lie like that?” Nelly asked, her eyes filling with tears, “Why? He was still a hero.”

“Because his death didn’t fit the narrative and he happened to play limmie. That meant that beings in this galaxy cared more about him than your average Marine. I don’t say it’s right, but it’s the way it is,” Kelt said.

“Well you might not have told a Senator, but you told a Chancellor’s daughter,” Falene said, standing up. With her cleats still on, she walked across the locker room and took Haylee by the arm. “Come on, there’s someone else who needs to hear this story.”

---

Falene bowed her head in a moment of silence for Kaitlyn Vehn, missing, and members of the Euceron Storm, dead and wounded. This had been a real tough week. Falene didn’t want to ever experience another one like it.

When the anthems were finished, Gaeriel Valerii pulled her team together for final words. “We got back to business last week and we beat the Monarchs,” Valerii said, “It’s time to do our thing again. Everyone who was here last year, you remember when we played these guys, right? They ended our playoff hopes. Well now the tables are turned. We can do that to them today. We win this one and we’ve got one less team to worry about beating out for a playoff spot. Let’s go out there and take care of business.”

Everyone knew that the Miners were 4-2. In the Solo Conference, four wins were not going to make the cut. Five wins might not even do it. The Starkillers weren’t dead, but they were cornered and dangerous.

Just the way to start a three game roadtrip.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik Runjedirun

 

IC: Kaitlyn Vehn

Fields outside of Coronet City, Corellia, 30 Minutes After the Crash

The choking smoke from the shuttle wreckage hung low, thick, and heavy over the wet farm ground where Blue Horizon 446 had gone down.

Powerful floodlights crisscrossed their beams as the search crews fanned out through the wreckage, through the overwhelming heat of electrical fires, over torn limbs, tattered seats, and hundreds of pieces of metallic debris. The tail section was absolutely crawling in flames as it had ripped away from the main fuselage upon impacting the ground and had gone to rest about a hundred meters from the passenger cabin. One of the wings of the shuttle craft had impaled itself in the wet ground, an engine still sputtering, whirling, blasting dust and debris into the search and rescue teams. There was a pinkish colored liquid erupting from the damaged wing, dribbling on the ground, adding to the sense of chaos, the heaviness of death. Further on, beyond the tail of flame and the wing of death, lay the remnants of the passenger cabin, its ribbing exposed for all to see, still relatively intact, despite the force by which the shuttle had hit the ground.

“Somebody get some retardant on that wing before it brews up!” The commander of the search operation barked.

“Maker,” one of the rescuers said to his commanding officer, “nobody could have survived this crash.”

“Until we have a hard body count, we keep looking. We’re doing this for the families, gentlemen, so be persistent. Look everywhere,” the veteran search and rescue officer said.

“We keep looking,” the officer repeated.

---

New Vertica, Nar Shaddaa

Tover Micjaa sat alone at the giant conference table where Kaitlyn Vehn had once presided over the day to day operations of the franchise. Here they had talked about draft strategies, game-plans, team finances, everything. Now, the room felt incredibly cold and lifeless, distant, as if the heart and soul of the franchise had suddenly been ripped away leaving only an empty shell behind.

A holoscreen in the corner of the room fed the 24 hour news cycle into the Smugglers facility. Reluctantly, Tover turned up the volume and listened to the latest news from the shuttle crash.

“Search and rescue teams are on-site looking for any survivors. So far, none have been found. The Republic Transportation Safety Board, per standard practice, will be with-holding the names of any victims identified in the crash until the families are notified. We still do not have any information about why Blue Horizon 446 crashed shortly after taking off from Coronet City. All options are still on the table and our sources on the ground are refusing to rule out the possibility of terrorism. We’ve recently acquired footage of the stricken shuttle making its descent through the atmosphere. We want to warn anyone out there that the following footage is graphic and viewer discretion is advised.”

Tover buried his face in his hands. The media could be sick at times, real sick. He returned his attention to the broadcast. Saw the shuttle oscillate in the air, saw the way the pilots tried to soften the landing near the end, the ripping of the tail from the fuselage, the explosions, the smoke.

“We would like to end our broadcast reflecting on the sixteen passengers of Blue Horizon 446 and our hearts go out to the families during this difficult time.”

Images of the people who were onboard the flight were displayed, with fitting music.

Tover stared long and hard at Kaitlyn’s image when it came up. He hoped she was alive. But it wasn’t looking very promising. Kaitlyn was a good friend of his and it pained him to see her beautiful face on such a miserable broadcast. She had turned the franchise around. She’d given the Vertical City hope where there had been very little before. She’d done such good work at the Valor Foundation and that had to count for something. If there really was a Maker above, Tover hoped that today would be a good day to perform a miracle because the prognosis was not looking good.

Come back to us, Kaitlyn, come back.

---

Fields of Corellia

The search and rescue operation had moved to the fuselage. One by one, debris that could be set aside was as the team tore their way into the passenger cabin. They were getting desperate now. 90 minutes had passed since the shuttle had gone down and they’d found nearly all of the passengers, or what was left of them, dead. Two were alive, but were in need of serious medical attention, and the last one, Kaitlyn Vehn, still hadn’t been found.

The commander of the search and rescue operation was growing disheartened. This was a pretty horrible crash, one of the worst he’d seen, and it was amazing that anyone was alive. But by now they should have found all of the passengers. Everyone should have been accounted for and tagged. And then he remembered the cockpit. How could he forget? That still hadn’t been searched.

He found the torn away cockpit about twenty meters from the fuselage. Wires sizzled and popped from the ceiling, displays flickered, blood covered the shattered transparisteel windows, and the twisted bodies of the pilots had been smashed up into the cabin console. They didn’t look alive. He checked anyway. They were dead.

In the dark cabin, the search and rescue commander tripped over a passenger seat. That was odd. What would a passenger seat be doing in this kind of shuttle configuration in the cockpit? He knelt down and looked underneath the seat. There was the final passenger that had yet to be identified. There was Kaitlyn Vehn, still strapped tightly in her restraints, breathing, alive, but bloody, bruised, and murmuring to herself.

“You’ll be fine, I’m here to help,” The commander said as he checked her vitals. She seemed stable.

“I can’t move! I can’t move!” Kaitlyn groaned.

“We’re doing the best we can,” the commander replied as others came to his aid. “Stay calm, we’ll help you out.”

“My legs,” Kaitlyn moaned before passing out.

---

5th Avenue General Hospital, Coronet City, Corellia

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Kaitlyn awoke to the interminable beeping of her life-support machine. Sunlight filtered in through the curtains of the sterile hospital room giving the cold room some warmth. Her face felt swollen, puffy, and her head roared with the splitting head-ache of a concussion.

“Ms. Vehn, you are lucky to be alive,” a voice said.

“Am I?” Kaitlyn croaked out her throat dry.

“Indeed. Only three people out of 16 survived that shuttle crash. Someone up above is looking out for you,” the voice said.

“How seriously was I hurt?” Kaitlyn asked.

The doctor sat down on the bed next to her and folded his hands together. He looked down at his shoes, felt awkward, and then tried to put on his best face as he said, “Your injuries were extensive.”

“Tell me, Doctor,” Kaitlyn said. She tried to shift in bed, tried to look at the doctor, but she found her lower body to be heavy, as if it were weighed down by something.

“We’ve treated you for concussion symptoms, broken ribs, and,” the doctor paused. He had that uncomfortable look on his face again. Kaitlyn knew something was wrong.

“What is it?”

“Your spine was critically damaged in the shuttle crash. You’ve had a lot of nerve damage, Kaitlyn.”

“Nerve damage? Look, if it’s a matter of money, I can pay for the surgery, I mean, nerves are so easy to fix, right?” Kaitlyn blurted out.

The doctor gave a weak wave of the hand. “I am so sorry to have to tell you this, Ms. Vehn, but based on my medical experience and expertise, it is my professional diagnosis that you will be unable to walk again. I have done the very best that I can for you.”

Kaitlyn had tears well up in her eyes as she curled her hands into fists, stared right up at that cold, unforgiving, hospital ceiling. “You’re saying,” she had a hard time speaking, the anger and grief nearly too much, “that I am paralyzed for the rest of my life?”

“I’m afraid so. Now, we have a wonderful physical rehabilitation center here on Corellia or if you choose we can transfer you to Nar Shaddaa where they also have a facility that will help the muscles in your legs stay strong and—“

Kaitlyn didn’t pay attention anymore. The doctor’s words trailed off into oblivion. She wanted nothing to do with him. She wanted nothing to do with any of this. This had to be some cruel joke. Some temporary setback and as if to prove her point she furrowed her brow and concentrated on moving her legs. Nothing happened. She couldn’t even wiggle a toe.

“Leave me, Doctor,” Kaitlyn ordered.

“As you wish,” the doctor said and left the room.

Kaitlyn continued to stare at the ceiling. Continued to stare into the darkest night of the soul. Tears continued to flow down her face.

I am a cripple.

I am a cripple.

Maker, help me, I am no more.

Tag: No One

 

--Injury Report: Week 7--
Euceron Storm

• PROBABLE: Fittis Witt'ka (leg); Bailey Walker (arm); Chalporrin (hip); Gorrrump (arm); Teccichuk (leg); Niast Nan'lie (ribs); Calli Webb (ankle); Toni Senorps (arm); Sanex Perskins (leg)
• QUESTIONABLE: Daven Morray (leg); Tria Tryvold (knee); Sonnet Dern'ii (arm); Sorus Antilles (arm); Winger Soneps (hip)
• OUT: Leroy Brown (abdomen); Jonica Sarturus (foot); Porrsk Rett'ii (foot); Atticcipil (shoulder); Unia Yistral (leg); Moni Ristal (shoulder); Hacca Bonefs (leg)

---

IC: Zay Antilles
Location: Six Boroughs Stadium, Nar Shaddaa
Time: Five minutes before press conference, day before Smugglers game

Zay was interrupted by his comlink buzzing. "Hello?" he answered.

The person on the other end let out an evil-sounding belly laugh.

"Who is this?!" Zay shouted.

"I'd say that was some mighty fine handiwork of mine after last week's game. In fact, I'd say that's the best job I've ever pulled off."

"Bassell! What the—"

"Shut up and listen. I figure that attack is enough damage for a while, so I'm just going to sit back and watch the Storm lose out with glee. Probably take you guys a couple of years, at least, to rebuild." Another evil laugh emanated from the comlink. "So don't worry about any further attacks because there won't be any."

"How do I know you're not—"

"—lying? I may be a lot of bad things, or at least what others perceive as bad," another cackle, "but dishonest is not one of them. You can take my word for it."

Rondy Bassell cut the connection, and Zay squeezed the comlink as hard as he could before taking a deep breath.

Palla spoke up. "Well, do we trust him?"

Zay concentrated on the Force. "I didn't detect any deception in his voice. Still, I don't know."

"I think we maintain the same level of security we had in the beginning of the season. I also detected no deception, but we need to ensure he doesn't change his mind."

"Agreed. Speaking of which, we—"

Aebatt stuck her head around the corner. "We're ready to begin, guys."

"Okay."

The two Jedi walked into the press room and sat down. Palla spoke first. "Greetings, ladies and gentlebeings. As I'm sure everyone is aware, there was a terrorist attack following last week's game on Euceron. While the team officials to my left will discuss the details of injuries and deaths shortly, my apprentice, Zay, and I would like to explain the bigger picture of what is going on here.

"The leader of this terrorist group is a human by the name of Rondy Bassell. This man is the same person who bombed the 273 Galactic Games on Euceron and attempted to do the same the night before the 273 Galactic Cup Final. On that night, he was stopped by my apprentice, Zay, and me and taken into custody by local police. At the time we believed that he was operating by himself. It became clear that this was not the case when a massive attack on the jail where he was being held enabled his escape. Since then, he and his group have attacked Zay and me personally on an unrelated Jedi mission, and were responsible for the bombing of a smashball game on Euceron about five months ago.

"During this time, the Jedi, particularly Zay and I, have been unsuccessfully attempting to track Bassell. While reviewing evidence from the smashball attack collected by Euceron authorities, we found a distinct calling card left by him that subtly threatened the Euceron Storm. At that time, Zay and I attached ourselves to the team and traveled with it, overseeing security. We deliberately chose not to inform the public of this threat in order to avoid causing panic. Prior to the Week 4 game against Ralltiir, a much more overt threat was found painted on a parking lot near the stadium. We immediately stepped up security, hiring off-duty police officers to provide extra security. We then received an anonymous tip during the All-Star Game informing us that the threatened attack would occur the following week.

"We believed that any attack would come in the form of a bomb, as this was his most common method of attack as well as the method likely to cause the most injuries and deaths, which was alluded to in the parking lot threat. Euceron Stadium security agreed with us on that point. Obviously we were wrong, and Bassell used our miscalculation to our advantage. Following the Mercs game last week, an intruder gained entry to the closed stadium and evaded security long enough to deposit an unmarked package in the upper concourse. With the threats in mind, security naturally treated the package as suspicious and called us away from the team to investigate. While I placed a Force barrier around the package to minimize damage should a bomb go off, my apprentice examined the box and determined it to be harmless. Through the Force, we then realized that the package was a diversion and the team was being attacked in the parking lot. Zay reached the parking lot first and stopped the attack immediately, driving the terrorists away within seconds. I managed to attach a tracking device to one of their speeders, but that device was found in an alley two blocks away, indicating that

"Since then we have been discussing what went wrong and how to adjust security. Just minutes ago, we received a comlink call from Bassell himself gloating about the attack. From what we can gather from his comments, he said that the attack has accomplished its intended purpose, whatever that may be, and so there will not be any further attacks on the Storm. While the words of a madman should always be taken with a heavy dose of salt, both Zay and I detected zero deception in his voice through the Force. We therefore believe that there will indeed be no further attacks and that fans can rest easy; however, we will maintain increased security at Storm games for at least the remainder of the season anyway in case we have misinterpreted his words or he changes his mind, and we will also be on the lookout for any form of attack now that we know that bombs are not the only method he will utilize.

"At this time, I would like to turn this press conference over to Aebatt."

"Thank you," said the general manager. "I don't have much to say except that we believe that all of the players that we called up from the Gundarks earlier this week are ready to play in the Elite League. Some have questioned how we intend to proceed without any full forwards or midfielders on the roster, which is a matter that Haron will address now. Haron?"

"Thank you," said the head coach. "By now all of you should have received our injury report for this week, which is quite full. At this time, we expect everyone listed as probable or questionable to play tomorrow. Together with the call-ups, that gives us twenty-two players available to play, including approximately half of our starters from last week. As Aebatt said, we have no full forwards or midfielders, having lost all of them in the attack, and we didn't want to force a player into the starting lineup that wasn't ready for the big league. Instead, we have created an entirely new formation, which is being transmitted to your datapads now."

​

"This formation, which I have named the 'Antilles Formation' after Zay here who suggested it in a meeting the day after the attack, is designed to take advantage of the positions that we have plenty of and eliminate the need for positions that we have none of. The Antilles Formation replaces the two midfielders with an extra player in the back line and the half forward line, and moves the full forward position back to just in front of the half forward line, so that it can be played by any player skilled at center half forward.

"In keeping with this being an entirely new formation, I have given many positions new names. The two full backs are now the left and right guards, while the two middle players in the half forward are now the left and right half forwards. The former left and right half forward positions are now left and right flank, while the corner forward positions have been renamed to wing. Finally, the former full forward position is now known as power forward, and this name reflects the fact that this position will be the cornerstone of our offense. Accordingly, I have chosen Niast Nan'lie, one of our assistant captains, to man the power forward position. Niast will also be acting captain this week in Porrsk Rett'ii's absence."

"That concludes what I have to say. Because we all have limited time today, we are unable to take questions at this time."

TAG: Vehn (for this week's game) and anyone following the attack

 

GM Post

Well, this was a big week to say the least. That makes for even bigger games today. Bonus rolls to Agamar, Bakura, Coruscant, Euceron, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, and Ralltiir. In the words of Michael Bolton, "Let's get to it."

Week 7 Results

Bakura Miners at Ralltiir Starkillers (23-10)
Chandrila Patriots at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers (8-35)
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Coruscant Senators (19-25)
Ylesia Lightning at Corellia Rebels (6-35)
Agamar Packers at Mando’ade Mercs (40-6)
Euceron Storm at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers (39-22)

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

 

Sub-GM Post

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

Limmie Futures League
Week 6
Kashyyyk Rangers at Tatooine Sandskimmers (1–25)
Kamino Waves at Concordia Crusaders (20–27)
Druckenwell Marksmen at Commenor Gundarks (8–21)

TAG: Bardan_Jusik Vehn Runjedirun Rebecca_Daniels Jedi Gunny CPL_Macja

 

IC: Kaitlyn Vehn
New Vertica Hospital, Nar Shaddaa

Kaitlyn still found herself tied to a hospital bed but at least this time she was back home in the Vertical City to catch the game between the Euceron Storm and the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers.

The game hadn’t gone well.

The defense had failed to adapt or adjust to the Storm’s offensive attack that threw the younger players on the back side of the field into a confusing tizzy. Poor tackling, poor deflections, just all around poor play, doomed the Smugglers to a terrible 0-3 record in the Skywalker Conference and as the game wound down to its conclusion the fans had started to leave. That made Kaitlyn angry and there were several times when the nurses would poke their heads into her room because her heart-rate monitor was going like crazy. She’d wave them off, tell them she was fine, and then go back to yelling at the holoscreen.

The yelling felt good and helped to get her over the idea that she was permanently disabled. At least, that’s what she told herself. For now, it was a start. Letting out some anger. Blowing off some steam. Plotting just how to change the franchise after one poor defensive showing after another.

The truth was that the defensive coordinator had to change. She didn’t want to get rid of Dvorak but after supplying the man with talent after talent in his defensive backfield, well, at some point she had to pull the plug. She’d bring him in for an evaluation when the season concluded but so far her mind was made up. She was going to fire him. That would bring some cheers on the Vertical City. But not for Kaitlyn. She hated firing people. Hated how miserable they looked when they realized that their professional careers had just prematurely ended. She’d never gotten used to termination and completely understood all the emotions that went with that humiliating exit from a job after her own experiences being manhandled by the Board of Tribunes.

But this losing had to stop. Something had to change. Her franchise was on a three game losing streak and going nowhere but the basement of the conference. That was unacceptable.

She’d built a new home for the Smugglers out of her own pockets and she’d drafted wisely the last two years to make sure the team stayed a little more competitive but there was no helping them today. It was looking like the game next week against the Mercs was going to be very important, maybe all important. As if the holoscreen read her mind, the following trailer in anticipation of the upcoming match against Taab and his Mercs came on screen.



“Wait a second. I said that about the Mercs?” Kaitlyn wondered aloud.

Great, the media was going to have a field day. But then it hit her hard in the stomach. They’d have a field day with her paralysis too. They’d want to invite her on to talk shows, make speeches, show off her flashy hoverchair, which hadn’t arrived yet, and all of that seemed so wrong, so alien, so foreign to her. She wasn’t ready to leap into this next stage of her life. That had manifested itself in the fact that she still was refusing visitors. So many people had come calling when word got out that she had lived. But that was all that was leaked.

She couldn’t face the people right now. She couldn’t even face herself.

One day at a time, Kaitlyn. One day at a time.

Tag:Bardan_Jusik

 

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

Forty points to Six! Forty kriffing points to Six! And against the Mercs, no less! Tim had to wonder if Taab (that highly unpleasant individual) had been watching, and if so, whether surroundings and bystanders had survived the encounter! Well, after a run of losses, the Packers' turn had finally come round, as he'd known it would!

Despite her initial misgivings, due to Mandalorians being very familiar with Togorians, Asyr had Started the Goot brothers as the Packers' Corner Forwards - and had then kept them there for the entire match! He hadn't shared her doubts, because Mandalorians would also know what Togorians could do! He couldn't say if Morto's pre-kickoff use of a long, sharp, claw to dislodge something that had apparently stuck between his fangs had had any effect on the opposing players, or not, but it had certainly given everyone a pointed reminder that the brothers definitely weren't pussycats or anyone's pets!

Asyr had added a twist of her own too, the only Human Packer on the pitch during the entire First-Half had been Miles Abrams (himself not a small man by any measure; but dwarfed by the new tripartite Forward partnership) since Asyr had 'rested' Dek, Glenn Lott and Alice Hrakness as Starters in favour of Roon, Tesar Raine and Shaka Fivvic. That arrangement, which faced the Mercs with a virtual wall of fur or scales almost every way they turned, had certainly made the 'Charging Bantha' play much easier to switch to, as the Half-Time tally of eight Goals and two 'Over-the-Bar's for a total of twenty-six points, showed.

When one of the Mercs' Midfielders (Tim thought he recognised the name as that of an 'All-Star' player) started to look threatening, Asyr immediately took the highly unusual - and in Packers usage, unprecedented - step of Benching Assistant-Captain Borsk Ven'nari in favour of rotating Sakmirakh Clan Tlakh'sar and Plakhisakh Clan Bakh'tor into the vacant slot to play as a third Midfielder. Their instructions? To turn the offender's match-time into a royal misery of an experience! With Team Captain Narsk Ven'nari taking care of the Mercs' other Midfielder, two Noghri were free to concentrate on harassing the 'All-Star' threat, while still leaving one Noghri spare to perform the 'Barve-in-the-Middle' role for the 'Charging Bantha' attack, or to be the 'Main-Kicker' for 'The Bombardment'.

With a solid points cushion, Asyr changed the Midfield and Defensive lineup throughout the Second Half, and reverted to 'The Bombardment' tactic, producing another pair of Goals and a further eight 'Over-the-Bar's.

This week's success (and that of Euceron, using another type of unconventional gameplan) had got Tim, Dorf and Asyr thinking. Was the conventional 'Lines of Threes' the best possible player arrangement on-pitch; or was there, perhaps, a better one? Certainly, going unconventional would have its novelty value and might tend to unsettle an opposition - at least for a while - by forcing the opposing players into roles they were not used to filling.

However, desirable a four-Noghri Midfield (or certain other permutations) seemed to be, that left the thorny problem of 'resting' Narsk and Borsk for large chunks of some, if not entire, matches; also who would be 'Stand-in Captain' while they were away from the pitch? The latter question was easiest to answer. Miles Abrams was, outside of his PTI persona, the most softly-spoken of beings; respectful of authority, but still able to put his points across. His jersey would, therefore, bear a letter 'S' in future.

Actually, Asyr didn't think there would be major trouble getting Narsk and Borsk on-board; neither of them fitted the Bothan stereotype of 'power-seeker' any more than Asyr herself did - and they were both Packers through and through!

The next match was against Corellia's Rebels, at Home! Another win against them like last Season and the Packers would still be, technically, on-track for the Playoffs - not that he thought the Packers were entirely ready for that test, even now.

After that, Away at the Smugglers' new (old) venue. Ms Vehn had been found alive in the wreck of her Charter Shuttle, it had been reported, but in a very poorly condition. He'd wait for better information, and then probably send her a message (not knowing her, he didn't know which - if any - flowers she liked). Even if the entire medical establishments on Corellia and Nar Shaddaa were collectively shaking their heads, there was still Jedi Healing to be explored. The Jedi didn't charge anything for their treatments, either!


TAG: Bardan_Jusik (for Week 7), Vehn (for Ms Vehn), Trieste (for Week 8).

 

IC: Falene Trieste
Bankers Mansion, Cambrielle, Ralltiir



Bankers Mansion held 2,500,000 beings. That was 25 times the capacity of Bakura Gardens. But to Falene Trieste and the Miners, that was no big deal. This was the case at almost every road game. Today was just another day at the office for Falene and company.

The Cuth Hulu defense, the “insane” defense that the team had chafed under during training camp, remained inconsistent. On its worst days it could give up more than 20 points with regularity. But on its good days...man did it hum.

Hulu's defense applied the same concepts that were at the core of the Miners' offensive success: finese. That was at the heart of Bakura-style limmie and Hulu understood that he had some extremely talented players who could pull off this sort of scheme. He used crossing passes, exit routes, elements of the old John Talley interception defense—anything that moved his defenders around and created confusion for the opposing teams. Every week he tweaked it to keep opposing teams off balance. It meant long, hard weeks for the Miners defense with lots of study and practice to get ready for the game. There were holes in the defense for sure, but when the Hulu defense was humming, it was hard to find them in the chaos.

No one had taken better to this insane defensive scheme than Falene Trieste.

It was fluid, it was dynamic, and most of all it was fun, especially when it was working. Today was one of those days. Falene was in the zone. Leann Lightcin was completely shut down and the middle of the high offensive zone for the Starkillers was like a black hole. Falene was jumping routes, batting balls away, making hard tackles, and messing up every Starkiller play that came anywhere near her.

Just as satisfyingly, Falene was at the heart of the dynamic breakout that was just as intrinsic to the Miners defense as disrupting the opposing offense. Lizbit’s long passes often came down at the half back line and playing the middle, Falene was almost always an option for Comstock. With six games under their belts, Lizbit knew where to put her passes for her teammates and the defense knew how to take them on the run, especially Falene. She’d grab a ball on the run, spin out of Lightcin’s reaching arms, and break up the field.

What Falene started doing after that was what really broke the whole game open. After a few standard passes, Falene faked a standard overhand pass to Glencross, only to instead bring it back in and then around her back in a seemingly blind pass to a wide open Wizmark, twisting the Ralltiir offense and midfield into knots. It was shockingly daring and Falene knew she was skirting the edge of responsible play—but she also knew that it was working and that it was yet another confusing wrinkle to the Hulu defense.

Let the entire League think about that the next time they play us, Falene thought smugly.

At the opposite end of the field, the Miners offense was doing its thing again. Deenever and Rodders were having a lot of fun in the middle of the field. Even Will Detra was getting into the action as he was victimizing a sluggish Ty Allin who couldn't keep up with his being. The girl they call Niskat was bolstering her bid for an Ingbrand and showing why seasoning in the Premier League (even with a terrible team) was a good idea for newly drafted players.

Lizbit was looking pretty good and once again the few Bakuran faithful who had made the trip (apparently the three game road trip had been too tempting for some fans, who had decided to make a Core vacation out of the Miners’ schedule) were loving it. There was uniformity to their signs this time around:

LOCK,
STOCK &
COMSTOCK

Falene had to give them points for being clever. Certainly more than the Starkillers got that day, anyways.

---

Coruscant

Falene had spent more time on Coruscant than just about any other Miner player thanks to her mother’s election. She’d actually done some years of high school on Coruscant before returning to Bakura for college. She knew the government section of the planet pretty well and was even more familiar with some of the major commercial areas.

With Life Day and Yuletide approaching, it was a perfect time to be on Coruscant. The shops at the center of the galaxy offered goods that simply couldn’t be found anywhere else in the galaxy. Though Life Day had originated as a day of Wookiee thanksgiving, it had been appropriated by some retailers as a commercial event, including ads that featured the Jedi Master Yoda dressed up in festive winter attire posing as a gift giver.



The team took their entire day off to scour these stores for gifts for those that they held most dear. Falene acted as a guide for a lot of the team—especially those who had never been to Coruscant like Lizbit, Niskat, Ponie, and Jolla. They were almost like children dashing into stores with gadgets of uncertain use or fashion styles that they’d only seen pictures of.

The windows of stores were done up for the holidays with displays of wares, some telling stories, others demonstrating new products. Shopping on Coruscant was a commercial experience like none other. Though the Bakuran standard of living was pretty high, this was in an entirely different league. There was a reason that Coruscant was the galactic capital. This was where you could find anything you wanted and everything that you didn't know you wanted until you saw it.

“I have no idea what this is for, but I feel like I should buy one,” Ponie said, looking at an odd kitchen instrument.

Max Grap knew even more about Coruscant than Falene thanks to his years at CorTech. He had even persuaded most of the team to join him at his favorite place to eat on the entire planet.

“Seriously everyone, you’re going to love this place,” Max said as they got out of the air taxis that eight of them had grabbed after finishing their shopping. The establishment in question was called Dex’s Diner.

“Kinda looks like a dump,” Alana Glencross said.

“That’s why it’s a local secret. You offworlders walk right by and miss out on their fantastic chili,” Max said, striding inside.

“He better be right about this,” Falene grumbled. This was certainly no place she’d ever eaten when she’d been on Coruscant.

Falene went inside—and walked straight into Alana a second before Jolla ran right into her. A few more bumps told her the rest of the team had similarly stopped behind her as the mass of Miners wound up in a tangle in the doorway.

The reason was the fact that the entire interior of the Diner was decorated with Coruscant Senators flags and posters including a large one over the window to the kitchen that read, “DEX’S DINER: PROUD SPONSOR OF THE CORUSCANT SENATORS.”

The gaggle of Miners, naturally all of them wearing their blue and gold team jackets, stood there and looked at the patrons, all of whom had turned and were looking straight back at them.

“We are gonna die,” Aron Rodders said from behind Falene.

“Be cool man!” Alana hissed under her breath, before smiling and saying to the entire diner, “Hey, we’re here for the chili.”

“And you would be?” the big Yuzzem behind the counter said icily.

“Tourists?” Ponie suggested helpfully.

“How about the team that’s going to lose to the greatest limmie team in the galaxy this weekend?” a Shistaven said.

“No, but we’re flattered you think we’re members of the Coruscant Senators,” Falene said.

All of a sudden the entire diner laughed. A Trandoshan hissed something. “He says you Miners have guts, which is good because the Senators want to only beat the best teams,” the Yuzzem translated.

“Hey, doesn’t anyone remember me?” Max asked.

“Well if it isn’t the prodigal son himself!” a Bith said, “It’s Max Grap!”

All of a sudden a bunch of patrons got out of their seats and came over to shake the Devaronian’s hand and slap him on the back.

“Guess this is a CorTech place,” Jolla said.

The Yuzzem pushed his way through the diners and gave Max a huge hug. “You old scoundrel. Only you would bring a bunch of these drunk Bakurans to this place! Come on, let’s get you all seated and we’ll show you how they make real food, not those dehydrated rations they serve in the Outer Rim.”

“Hey, you have not been to the restaurant I own,” Alana said, “They make some good stuff there.”

“What’s the secret ingredient? Hot air?” the Yuzzem asked, which got the entire diner laughing.

“You know what they say—get out of the kitchen if you can’t stand the heat,” Alana replied.

Food came out in pretty short order and the Miners bantered with the patrons as they ate, signed some autographs (though not as many as when they were recognized in and around Bakura).

“Oh hey!” the Yuzzem behind the counter said, reaching up and turning the vidscreen tuned to HSN towards the Miners and turning the volume up, “You guys are on!”

Falene and the team turned to look at it.

“This week is the Senatorial Showdown, which is rife with Solo Conference implications as four teams are jostling for three playoff spots,” the Nemoidian presenter said with the logos of both teams in holographic form next to him, “However, adding a different spice to this year’s game is the fact that it’s having an impact in the music world. As always, there’s a glut of albums out there with new takes on Life Day songs…but this year there’s a new single that’s swept the charts. We’d tell you about it, but instead we’ll let the artist Ugdar Zickerplatt sing it to you instead.”



(Dear Yoda, I don't know if you're listening,
But I've been pretty good this year.
And I don't know if it matters that I'm not a Wookiee,
But I hope you get my wish)

Hey what do you know it's time for Life Day
And I've been acting good all year
I may not own a red hover sleigh
But that don't mean I have no cheer
So Yoda, I don't know if you're listening
I'm not quite sure how this works
I wanna good girl for hugging and kissing
Not a head case who only dates jerks

I don't need more toys and shiny things
I just want a back who really swings

So there's only one gift for me
There's no need to send Ryi Kor'le
I don't need a pelt of furs
So let’s nix Meredith Chambers
I won't be standing in awe
If I end up with Zoa Vra
So Yoda don't be stressed
Just send me Fae Trieste

Everyone in the diner turned and looked at Falene, whose mouth dropped open.

“What,” Aron Rodders said in disbelief.

“Shhhhh! There’s more!” Alana said excitedly.

So Yoda when you appear in my home
You'll find something there that’s free
I know it's chilly out there alone
So got you a Solo all-star jersey

And no one will mess with her when she's mine
And Chalporrin won't show her up next time

So I'm gonna get tons of stress
If in comes Alice Hrakness
If she's a bad girl I'm sending her back
'Cause Reina Kether is wack (just like crack)

“Yeah she is!” one of the Senator fans shouted.

I'd rather be caught in a bramble
Than be stuck with Christine Gamble

All of Dex’s Diner booed at that.

So Yoda don't be stressed
Just send me Fae Trieste

I know her and I are gonna fit
Falene Zickerplatt has a ring to it

Falene tried to slide down the booth so as to hide beneath the table, but Jolla kept grabbing her by the collar of her jacket and pulling her back up.

I'd rather make cranberry sauce
Than makin’ out with 'Lana Glencross

“WHAT?!” Alana shouted to the great delight of everyone, especially the Senator fans, who applauded.

Yeah I'd rather be stuck in a lull
Than kick it with Loren Jul
And yeah my head's gonna spin
If you mess up and send Clair Oswin
So Yoda don't be stressed
Just send me Fae Trieste

Everyone in Dex’s Diner stood and applauded as Falene, with a beet red face, waved meekly.

“Sorry Falene, but that song is never, ever going to go away,” Niskat said, clapping her friend on the back, “I’ll see to that personally.”

If I ever meet this Udgar Zickerplatt, I am going to kill him, Falene thought.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Rebecca_Daniels Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn because I worked you all into the song

 

IC: Gark S’rily
Home, Coruscant

Gark flipped through channels mindlessly on the HoloNet. He wanted to think about something other than the upcoming game against Bakura for once. He had been so focused on the rivalry match that he couldn’t stand it anymore. Something had to change; he couldn’t spend every waking moment worried about how the Miners and their high-flying offense, something that was missing the past few seasons, would challenge his defense. Me’lin had commented multiple times that he was stressed out, and he didn’t blame her for pointing it out. It wasn’t easy being a coach, especially at this level of a sport. Experience was no factor in the overall equation. A ten-year veteran could still be as jittery as a coach in their first game. It happened to everyone. No one was immune from fear, from being unsure about how you would perform when the lights went on and everyone was watching.

Show after show went by on the screen. Gark paused for several seconds on each station before moving on. He never really liked daytime Holo, but right now, it was preferable to pouring over notes that he was going to study tomorrow anyways, since the game was in two days.

Next channel. “And Coop’s shot goes through the net for a home run! The Beers score 3 in the bottom of the ninth!”

Flick!

Heavily-padded players doing a dance routine by going up and down in sync and yelling that they are the Titans.

Flick!

“And Pince Vapale takes the ball, going down the field! He’s taking it all the way! He’s gonna score!”

Flick!

Story about a team whose general manager used advanced metrics to compete with higher-payroll teams. Gark liked this one. It reminded him of the Senator approach when he began as GM.

Flick!

Bantha racing. How anyone could consider this a sport, Gark had no idea.

Flick!

Just as the next show came on, Gark could hear the ringing of his comlink on the end table. Sighing, he reached over and picked it up, flipping the console open to see who was calling. “Pam” said the caller ID; hm, what did the Zeltron want? He was going to get in contact with her tomorrow regarding any last-second changes to the gameplan, but he hadn’t expected to receive a call today.

“Hello,” Gark said.

“I’m going to make this quick,” Pam said on the other end of the line. Her voice seemed raspy as all get out. “I seem to have caught a bad bout of the flu, and I’ve been vomiting . . .”

“OK, too much information,” Gark said quickly. “Galin does enough of that at times to last a lifetime. Your point is . . .?”

“I don’t think I can coach the game in two days,” Pam said. “I don’t want to get anyone else sick, and I also feel like someone ran a speeder over me multiple times.”

“Ouch,” Gark said. Being sick was never fun. One of the joys of parenthood was going to be coming down with illnesses brought home with Galin when he got a little older. Schools were good for education, but they were also great germ factories. “But that leaves us without a coach for the game.”

“No it doesn’t,” Pam said. “Not if you take over.”

“You just had to say that, didn’t you?” Gark asked. Him, head coach again? There was some intrigue in that scenario . . . but he hadn’t done that job in a long time. He was going to be rusty, not something you wanted when going into what may be the biggest game of the season.

“Oh come on, I know you can do it,” Pam replied in her husky voice. “It’ll just be one game, I promise. I’m feeling better than I did last night, so hopefully it’ll be over in a few days. Just not early enough for me to coach and not be contagious.”

“You’re asking a lot, you know,” Gark said. “You know that the last time I coached, I got blown out so completely that it still lingers.”

“Against the Miners, correct? Against Valerii.” Gark was silent, because he knew that she knew the score. “Things have changed since then.”

“Yeah. Me being alive is the first priority on that list,” Gark commented. “But, now that I think about it, I do owe the Miners one for that blowout loss.” He wanted to avenge a 36-2 loss at home. Now might be a good time to get that over with.

“Look at it this way. It can’t end any worse,” Pam said. “So give it a shot, because you really don’t have much of a choice.”

“Why can’t Allie do it?” Gark asked. Allie Orchetrada, the offensive coordinator, had been the Senator head coach up until 265, when he finally took over.

“She’d be even rustier than you. Besides, I think the fans want to see you coach one last game at the head of the whole operation. And because you know all of the players well.”

“I guess so . . .” Gark said.

“Then it’s settled,” Pam said. “You’re coaching, and I can relax this week as I recover. I’m glad we had this talk.” Then she hung up, leaving Gark on the other end of the line. He slowly lowered the communicator, trying to grasp the magnitude of the situation. In a season of curveballs, here was his major moment to shine . . . or to crash and burn spectacularly.

Then he turned off the Holo receiver. There would be no rest for the weary. He had a game plan to put together.

---

University of Coruscant, Game Day, Locker Room

Gark looked at the thirty players who were kneeling in front of him, waiting for him to speak a few words of wisdom before they hit the field for the first half. It was a case of déjà vu all over again; he had been in this spot once before, an eternity ago, it seemed. If he closed his eyes, he could make out the shapes of all his old players as they sat in the same postures as the current team did now. Instead of the newer players, he could see Dirxx, Shayt, Shev, Polis, Moen, Adanna, Helena, Jed, Dilfy, and the other players in this mind-eye view. He had won a Galactic Cup title with that crew . . . and now they had all gone their separate ways. Some were coaching, others were working the front office, and some others yet were off in the unknown, their recent histories not in the Bothan’s mind. He loved coaching, but only the names had changed. The game, on the other hand, hadn’t.

“I know Pam’s not going to give you a speech today, so I will give you one instead,” he began. “Three years ago, at about this same time . . . I lost a Limmie game. It was a hard loss, as some of you remember all too well. A promising start to the season ran into a wall here on Coruscant. Back at the ‘Drom. The score was 36 to 2. And we had 2. I’m not going to mince my words. That was likely the worst game I had ever coached.

And the saddest part of that was that it was my last game as the head coach of this team. I never got a true retirement, with other events in my life at the time, but that game has always stuck with me. You can’t get over a 34-point loss that easily, especially when you walk away with that hanging over your head. So it’s my turn to try and avenge that loss, today, at home, against the Miners. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I haven’t been in this position in the locker room since that game, so I don’t really know the flow of the offense as well as I used to. I’m going to rely on each and every one of you to make this easy for me so that I can do my job. We can beat this team. We can go into next week in pole position. But we have to finish. Many good teams have been derailed by the inability to finish off opponents. I don’t want to start that today. We have the home edge, so let’s use it.”

When the team made its way out onto the field, Gark was struck by a peculiar sensation. It was something he hadn’t felt since that last game, the feeling of being on top of the Limmie world. Only 12 individuals got to be in this position at any given time, being the head coach of an Elite League team. And today it was his turn to be one of those 12. Today, he was in total control. Today he was going to avenge that loss from three years ago. Today he was going to lead the charge one more time. And damn it felt good.

TAG: Trieste

OOC: Yes, I went there.

 

IC: Fenton

Spoiler

I spoil this because I only know one band's music and I know you all are tired of them. But it's appropriate

The Starkillers were losing again. Fenton wished the game would just end so he could go home already but it wasn’t even half time yet. He looked down the line mostly Starkillers fans their postures showing their despair. Arms crossed, frowns on their faces, some were just staring at the ground. But about midway back there were two people with smiles on their faces having what seemed to be a joyous day and it was no wonder they were wearing Miners Jerseys. “What I wouldn’t do to wipe the smiles of their faces.” He said aloud to no one in particular.

“What’s that?” Bat asked from behind him.

“Oh nothing,” Fenton sighed. “I was just noticing how happy those Miners fans are, that’s all”.

“And you wanted to do something about it, didn’t you?” Bat said grinning mischievously.

Fenton looked curiously at his supervisor. “It was just a thought” he said with a shrug. Bat was brandishing a full smile now and Fenton got the feeling something was up. “Why you have an idea?”

“It just so happens, I do.” Bat said pulling out a hot pepper and some chili powder from behind his back. “They are in line for nachos. So I say we make them nachos.”

“We can’t do that!” Fenton couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Bat was supposed to be the supervisor, yet he was already cutting up that pepper into tiny pieces and adding it to a batch of cheese labeled mild. Just then the stadium erupted in a loud boo as Allin allowed another shot to be taken on goal. The overwhelmed Poletin wasn’t able to stop it and the Miners scored again. Fenton watched the Miners fans pump their fists with satisfaction. Suddenly he picked up the container of chili pepper and put several spoonfuls into the same batch of cheese.

Bat stirred furiously as the Miners fans made their order. They asked for medium so Fenton made a show of pouring mostly “mild” sauce and a little hot onto their chips. As the couple walked away from the stand and back towards their seats he watched as the female fan grabbed a chip off top and placed in her mouth eagerly. Immediately she shrieked and spit it back out. Then she grabbed the drink they had ordered out of her male companions hands and downed half of it. The male was angered that half the drink was gone already and the couple began to argue. Fenton and Bat fell into a fit of laughter.

The rest of the game was spent wiping the smiles off the faces of any Miners fans who dared line up for nachos. Fenton forgot about how badly the Starkillers were playing and the fact that they were now out of running for the play-offs.

The week before Trey Till’s trial had begun. Ty Allin and his wife Lucie had been at the trial each day in support of Till. Most of Ralltiir had respected his decision and even applauded his support for his former teammate. But after the loss to the Miners fans were no longer behind Allin’s decision to attend the trial over Starkillers practice.

Fenton understood the anger and outrage being poured out in Allin’s direction, but he also found it unnecessary. It wasn’t as if the Starkillers had been winning much before Ty started attending the trial instead of practice. So he was pleased when other veterans like Loren Jul, Frokabukk, Loma Ikell and Keli Sen also began showing up at the trail to support Till. Until events took a turn for the worse, or at least in Fenton’s point of view they were a turn for the worse.

Dev Poletin showed up at the trial along with the vets just a few days before the Buccs game and when he didn’t show up for practice coach Clara held a press conference announcing that since he had no business at the trial and he would not be starting this week. Galaxy Defender Unanimous would be back in the goal position she declared.

With all the crazy that was the Starkillers season this year Fenton was elated and pleasantly surprised to learn his mother had finally gotten a job. He was also having continued success with his renewed efforts to run in the mornings and changes in his diet. So though he was mourning the wins of last season, life was not so bad. There was lots of hope, a new owner and a high draft spot would surely bring a few of those wins back next season. At least that’s how Fenton hoped it would work out.

Trieste for the treatment of Miners fans by the employees at the nacho stand.

 

GM Notice

Draftees for the 276 Elite League Limmie Draft are now being accepted. I would strongly prefer to have everyone's draftees by December 15. In theory, you should indicate your willingness to participate before you know where you will be drafting. I will build up the 276 Draft post in the library thread as I get draftees.

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

 

PRESS RELEASE​

Agamar Packers are pleased to announce that they have reached an agreement with Garqi Agricultural University regarding the 'Garqi Gunners' Limmie team. The 'Gunners' are owned by the Agricultural University and have been playing in the Braxant Limmie League for a number of years with consistent success.

With effect from the end of the 275 Season, the 'Gunners' will become the Packers' Development team; and it is hoped that they will join the Limmie Futures League at the start of the 276 Season. Work on bringing the 'Gunners' Home venue (The Old Parade Ground, Pesktda, Garqi) up to Futures League Standards will be carried out during the off-season, but the Agamarian Council has graciously consented to the 'Gunners' having free and full use of the Old Memorial Stadium, Tondatha, Agamar for as long as the renovation works are ongoing.

"I am confident that this development will be of great benefit to both teams"; said Packers' Owner Tim Dodd; "The 'Gunners' are ready to step-up into a more challenging League and having a greater pool of Packers-trained players available will give us extra strength and depth in all departments. It is a happy circumstance that Garqi and Agamar are only a short hyperspace hop away from one another and are both worlds with similar outlooks, climates and ways of life. We wish the 'Gunners' every success. I can also confirm that the Packers will be participating in the 276 ABY Draft."

The 'Gunners' Officials and regular players are as follows:-

General Manager: Bitt Pors (Muun Male)
Head Coach: Qymaen lij Kummar (Kaleesh Male)

Goalkeeper: Konrad Blackmoon (Human Male)
Right Corner Back: Kiri Kanewa (Human Female)
Full Back: Tomas "T" Rex (Human Male)
Left Corner Back: Trixie "Tricks" Cummins (Human Female)
Right Half Back: Halle Frost (Human Female
Center Half Back: Emelyo Largo (Human Male)
Left Half Back: Cerith Ungol (Human Female)
Midfielder: Natasi 'Felinx' Leitner (Human Female)
Midfielder: Rikki "Tiki" Tarvi (Human Male)
Right Half Forward: Wynssa Reige (Human Female)
Center Half Forward: Maxton "Max" Hedruum* (Human Male)
Left Half Forward: Dynba Barris (Human Female)
Right Corner Forward: Umslow Pogas (Human Male)
Full Forward: Noreen Flarestar (Human Female)
Left Corner Forward: Klaus Unger (Human Male)

* denotes Captain.

Team Colours: Red Jersey, White Shorts, White Socks.

Team Badge: Crossed Old-style Cannons - (Silver) on Black Shield.

 

IC: Kaitlyn Vehn
New Vertical Hospital, Paraplegic Wing

“You know you’re the only person to bother to see me in the hospital since the accident?” Kaitlyn said as she gently reached out to take Tover Micjaa’s hand in her own.

“That’s not true,” Tover replied.

“Yeah, it is. Nobody came to see me. Not my family, not the few friends I’ve got left, no one,” Kaitlyn said.

“Well, someone is seeing you now,” Tover said.

“I’m glad you did, Tover,” Kaitlyn admitted.

Tover pulled up a chair alongside Kaitlyn’s hospital bed and looked his boss and friend in her eyes. “You really doing okay?”

Kaitlyn looked away from her friend’s piercing gaze and stared out at the traffic roaring by the hospital. She still was coming to grips with the cold reality that she would never walk again. That was hard. Nearly unbearable but she’d live. She still had her son.
She still had the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. She still had her good friend Tover Micjaa. She looked back at him and a faint smile appeared.

“It’s hard. Real hard. But I’ll pull through. I always do,” Kaitlyn said.

“Have you gotten out of the room?”

“No,” Kaitlyn said and looked over in the corner of the room where her hover-chair rested. She looked down at her new prison, her chair, her disability, a painful reminder of that fateful night on Corellia.

“Why don’t I take you for a little spin?” Tover suggested as he brought the hover-chair near the bed.

She violently shook her head.

“Come on, Kaitlyn,” Tover urged.

“No!” She yelled.

“Too bad,” Tover insisted and grabbed Kaitlyn’s paraplegic form and gently placed her in the hover-chair.

Kaitlyn fumed. She was pissed off. How could he do this to her? How could he just force her into this metal hell? Didn’t he understand? Didn’t he care at all about how she felt, about how maybe she thought the world might perceive her? She was crippled, she was useless. She’d be lucky to see the pitch again, let alone have her job.

“I know you’re mad. But you’re going to be fine. The team is in good hands. We’re as prepared as we can be for the game against the Mercs. Come on, stop fighting me, let me show you something,” Tover said.

He guided Kaitlyn down endless halls, nurses filing by loaded with paper-work, other patients waved, some simply stared through her, and then they were past a pair of double doors and on into a gym. Kaitlyn tried to hit the brakes on the hover-chair but all she ended up doing was pounding Tover’s hand.

The gym was full of kids. Kids of all ages. Kids of all species. But kids that all had one thing in common.

They were all physically disabled.

Some were fit, others were not, but that didn’t’ seem to matter to the physical therapist who was herding the group of kids into a semi-circle.

“Tover,” Kaitlyn said, “I can’t go out there!”

There was no response. Kaitlyn spun in her hover-chair and saw that the swinging doors of the gym were all that answered her. She was on her own.

“Hey, lady, you want to join us?” The physical therapist called out.

Kaitlyn spun around as all the other kids had stopped playing and stared at her.

“Me?”

“No, the other woman sitting in a hover-chair right behind you,” the therapist pointed out. “Come on over! Nobody is going to bite.”

Kaitlyn floated over to the kids, tried to hit the brakes, crashed into a 14 year old girl.

“Hey!”

“Sorry! I don’t really know how to stop this thing,” Kaitlyn blurted out.

The kids laughed.

“You’ll get used to it. We were just about to do our morning work-out, you want to join in?” The 14 year old girl said.

“Uh,” Kaitlyn said as the music started.



The thumping tune, the husky voice of the lady singing, all of it flooded her mind as the song really got going. The kids spun around, danced, clapped their hands, laughed, smiled, and just rocked out.

“Hey, try this!” The 14 year old girl said through a beaming smile as she pulled off a flip in her hover-chair.

Kaitlyn laughed and tried to duplicate the move and nearly got sick. She relaxed, grooved, and actually danced to the music despite the fact that her lower legs refused to work. That didn’t stop her from putting on a few moves of her own as she shared the moment with all of these kids who were just like her. Kids who refused to be beaten down by the cards that life had dealt them, who rose up to the challenge, lived with their disability, overcame their disability, and came out the other end with one word resonating in the deepest part of their beings: stronger.

Yeah, you may have knocked me down a few pegs, Kaitlyn thought as she totally got into the routine, but you can’t take me away from my life. What doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger.

Tag: Bardan_Jusik, (Merc reference alert)

 

GM Post

What We Learned: Week 7

Man, we love Life Day. It's such a great holiday. Sit around and eat like a Wookiee while watching limmie? What could be better? Oh, right—having interns who do all your work for you.

Agamar Packers: The Packers put together their best game all season, hands down. Now, we don't want to tell the team how to do things, but maybe doing that before going 1-5 would be a good idea next time.

Bakura Miners: We have been playing “Merry Fae Day” on repeat all week, mainly to hear the way that “cranberry sauce” and “Alana Glencross” rhymes. Now that's high literature right there.

Chandrila Patriots: Less than a year ago Avano Koobis was hailed as the next great captain in the game today. Now she can barely score points. That's true leadership for you.

Corellia Rebels: This is the most maddening team we've ever seen. Every time we want to write them off, the Rebels jump back into the picture, like by destroying Kasin. We should be furious...and yet instead we're taking the Rebels seriously as a limmie team. What is happening right now?!

Coruscant Senators: Pamile Korthe reportedly has the flu and will not face her archnemesis Gaeriel Valerii in the Showdown this week. We would be disappointed...except Superbothan is going to coach. Senator fans: we better see some awesome costumes in the stands this week.

Euceron Storm: WHAT JUST HAPPENED. No, seriously, we do not understand how the Storm torched the Smugg...oh wait. Konrad Dvorak. Got it. We refuse to anoint this new “Antilles Formation” until it beats a real defense.

Hapes Consortium Buccaneers: Give her this: Moira Mallory learned from last season. She hasn't played a flawless season, but this time last year the C-Bucs' playoff chances were fading fast. Don't say that the old girl can't learn some new tricks.

Mando'ade Mercs: The trade deadline has passed and there is no longer a trade threat hanging over Andres Fortune...and the Mercs put up a measly 6 points. Something tells us that Vhett needs to find a new motivational tool for her Full Forward.

Nar Shaddaa Smugglers: The interns tell us that we've been too hard on Konrad this season. Apaprently it's totally unreasonable to expect someone to defend a revolutionary new player deployment formation perfectly the first time out of the gate. Come on. Everyone knows you can do that and, just like everyone knows you can't destroy an entire space station by hitting one exhaust port.

Ralltiir Starkillers: So Dev Poletin acts like a decent sentient being to support a friend and he gets benched in favor of Galaxy Defender Unanimous? Yep, everything's right in the galaxy.

Rydonni Prime Monarchs: Monarchs Positive #5: Well...at least they own all the tiebreaks for the number one overall pick now. (Seriously--they lost to Ralltiir and Agamar, the only teams they could tie in a best case scenario.)

Ylesia Lightning: You know, call this a crazy idea, but once in a while it might be good to play just a little defense in front of Kasin instead of saying, “Oh, hello there, member of the Corellia Rebels. I see you are holding a bolo-ball. Would you like to step by me and continue untouched towards our goal? Why, yes, I'm glad to see you do. It was my pleasure to facilitate a pleasant experience for you in the offensive zone. Please, have a crumpet to go along with your goal celebration.”

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

 

I'd like to think I had this overall idea first. But I was definitely influenced by Trieste

This is prior in game time to my last post.

IC: Gark S’rily
Coruscant Air Fleet Academy, Game vs. Rydonni Prime

The Monarchs never made it easy. The Senators had to work their asses off to make sure that their opponents, still looking for their first win of the season, kept coming at them. Being last in points scored and in points allowed certainly didn’t deter the team in blue and gold from keeping this one close through the contest. It was tied at halftime, and at this point the game could go either way. Gark checked his defensive notes during a media timeout. The Monarchs were bashing around his interior defense, making Ortho look silly as he tried to keep the Monarch forwards in front of him. Abbey was struggling at the full back spot, so he was going to put in Doon’sun to add some extra meat to the back line. The corners were giving good production, shutting down most of what came in front of them. But that didn’t necessarily mean they were dominating. It was anything but.

When the game restarted, Gark checked the scoreboard. 17 all, it read, with eleven minutes left. Still enough time to pull away, but not enough time to dig out of a hole if they found themselves down a few points in the next few minutes. They had to hold on here to allow the offense to finally break through. He called in the play as the Monarchs took possession of the ball, trying to channel the flow of the offense into the teeth of the defense, which happened to be at Christine Gamble right now and to Zumarorroo, who was leaning in to the side to try and make a pick or two.

The defense seemed to be working, as the Monarchs couldn’t get any traction at this point. On the other side, the Senator offense finally found its victory margin. Demetra Silkins took a pass from Alysha Romax, and then threaded the needle to get the ball in between two Monarch defenders into a tight window. Gayla Renhorn grabbed the pass and put it into the back of the net for three, pushing the score to 20-17. On the next possession, it was Maff Biskis, the struggling half forward, who was able to break out of his slump with a nice kick into the goal for three. 23-17 Senators, the scoreboard read. And the Senators would never look back.

When the game ended, it was closer than Gark would have liked at 25-19. However, a win was a win, and they finally got to bring the Sector Cup back to Coruscant. The Cup itself looked like something a scavenger would fish out of a dumpster, since it was old, with paint chipping everywhere, and didn’t exactly look utilitarian at all. But it was the thought that counted, because now the Senators had a rivalry trophy to place in the cabinet back at HQ. If they could add the Old Rosewood Gavel to that collection remained to be seen, but at least it was a start.

The offense had looked fine today. Gayla had notched two goals, and had plenty of help from the forwards. Max, Cord, and Riff all contributed in a big way, and the other forwards, although they didn’t score that much, still found a way to make their presences felt. Dauza Chary looked good running the offense. Perhaps not as good as the old field general the Senators had, but still pretty good for only her second year in the Elite League.

As Gark briefed his players about the gameplan, he knew that the Monarchs had opened up some holes in the defense. What had worked against Hapes had not been as effective today. Perhaps Vesper Lynd was just that good, so that even when she didn’t have the ball the Senators had to lean in a little bit. It was something that Gark knew needed to be addressed, because the Miners seemed to have their offense figured out and rolling. It was just like the matchups of a few years earlier, when the high-flying Miners would take on a rugged Senator defense. Games like that sold tickets and air time like nothing else. It was going to present another challenge.

But that was for next week. This week was completed with a win, and that was all that mattered.

---

Senator Team HQ

Gark lowered the datapad and looked at the chrono on the wall. It was time for lunch. As he left his office, he made sure to swing by the front desk. Me’lin S’rily was finishing making a call, and then looked up at the Bothan as he leaned on the desk from her chair. “Headed off to lunch,” Gark said. “You coming?”

“Nah. I figure that if I get all this work done today, I can take tomorrow off,” the Twi’lek said.

“You do realize that the one who pays the person who makes the schedules thinks that you should go out to lunch with him?” Gark asked, jesting.

“I’m just saying that I’d rather avoid coming in tomorrow if I can help it. Besides, I want to take Galin to the park,” Me’lin said.

“All right, then,” Gark said. “I’ll see you later tonight, then.” With that, he left the HQ building and hopped into his speeder. There was only one place that he frequented for lunch; Dex’s Diner, the frequent eating haunt of the Senators. The Diner had proudly been the sponsor of Senators Limmie for a long time, and occasionally the team got to eat at a discount, but only when Tex, the Besalisk owner, figured it would be worth the hassle to feed anywhere from 5 to 20 players and staff at the discounted rate. It was good for business, he realized.

Gark drove the speeder into Midtown, and after filling up on fuel finally made it to the Diner. The parking lot was only about a third of the way full, so he was able to park near the entrance. He got out and then made his way to the door, making sure that a couple of old Duros could leave first before he entered.

The door opened and he walked inside. “Well, whaddya know,” came a very familiar voice. “It’s our favorite Bothan, back again for the grub,” said the grizzled Yuzzem who was working the counter, a grin on his face. Everyone at the counter turned around to see who it was.

“Long time no see!” said another patron.

“About time you showed up. We thought we might have to start our typical Limmie chat without the resident guru,” said a Devaronian.

“Can’t help it when I’m on the road for four straight weeks with the team,” Gark said with a shrug as he neared the lunch counter.

“You’re two minutes late. Is everything all right?” the Devaronian asked, that sly grin of his still evident.

“Perfectly. Just busy with team stuff,” Gark replied. “Hey there, Smokey,” he said to an older human. “Del,” he nodded to the Devaronian. “How goes it, Abda?” he asked an Ithorian. “Sarge,” he then said to an old Chiss who had once served in the military. Sometimes he never shut up about it, but it was all in good fun. “Cal,” he said to another human. He got onto the nearest open stool at the counter and then looked down the row at his cohorts. It had been a tradition of his for the last three years to come down to Dex’s once a week at this time to hang out with some of the other diner regulars.

“So, the usual?” asked the Yuzzem, whose name was Lago.

“Yep,” Gark said, placing his elbow on the counter. “Can’t go without the Dex’s chili with a bit of that cheese you got on the top, and a freshly-baked roll, you know.”

“No you can’t,” Lago replied. “If you wanted something else after all this time, I would first ask you if you were feeling alright.”

“Change can happen,” Gark said.

“Speaking of chili, you’ll never guess who we ran into yesterday. Or, at least who ran into us,” Del commented.

“What do you mean?” Gark asked as he looked down the counter. Lago slid a water glass to the Bothan, and he took a sip.

“You’ll never believe it, obviously, but . . . Del, help me out with the figure here . . . half, I want to say . . . roughly half of the Bakura Miners showed up here yesterday,” Lago said.

Gark nearly choked on his water as he tried to swallow. The Miners had come here, out of all places? They had the entire planet to pick a restaurant from, and yet they visited Dex’s? That seemed rather hypocritical, given that Dex’s was about as pro-Senators as you could get. Business boomed when the Senators played. Tex always said that when the game was on, no matter if it was home or away, the diner would fill up to capacity several hours before gametime, and that it was damn near impossible to get a seat unless you got there super early. Coruscantis knew that Dex’s was the in-place to be to see the Senators play on the HoloNet, and it certainly turned a profit for the establishment. “Can I ask why they would show up here?” he finally asked.

“I think Grap had a hand in that,” Lago replied. “You know, the one kid from CorTech that you didn’t draft.”

“Last time I checked, he didn’t fall to us that year,” Gark replied.

“Anyways, he brought half of the team with him. It was actually kinda funny bantering back and forth with them. You know, that Glencross girl is as full of hot air as I thought she would be.”

“I still can’t believe that they were here,” Gark said.

“Here’s something that should prove it,” Del said, sliding over a piece of flimsy. Gark looked down to see the signature of Aron Rodders on it. “You know that I’m as die-hard a Senator fan as you can possibly be, but I still got Rodders to sign this flimsy for me.”

“Had to add this to your collection, eh, Del?” Gark asked as he slid the flimsy back past Adba to Del.

“Couldn’t pass up the opportunity,” the Devaronian said. “But, you should know one thing. If I ever need to pawn off something to pay the bills, or act as collateral, I certainly ain’t as hell going to have to leverage my Polis Vayne autograph now,” he said with a toothy grin.

“You do realize that Rodders would have a severe value decrease because of planetary context, right?” Abda said.

“Eh, not too worried about that. Besides, if I hold onto the Rodders autograph, it might be worth something someday,” Del countered. This set off a riot of laughter from the other patrons. Any chance they could get to make a jab at the Miners was well-received.

Lago slid Gark his bowl of chili and the roll. The Bothan began to eat. The chili was hot, but good as always.

“So, big game this week,” Cal said. “You get your team fired up yet?”

“Anytime we play the Miners, we have some extra incentive to win,” Gark replied, breaking open his roll.

“It’s going to be for all the marbles, I wager,” Lago said. “You win this week, and you get in the pole position for the Commissioner’s Trophy. If you ever win that, I’ll have to ask Tex to find a way to jam that Holo somewhere in on the wall in the back room. And you know how little space there is left on the walls in there,” he said. Gark nodded. The back room was where the real die-hards were during games. The walls were completely filled with Senators stuff, including team Holos, clippings of flimsy, pennants, banners, autographs; you name it, it was there. Tex even remarked that he had a jock strap from a Senator player up on the wall, but no one was exactly interested in finding it amongst the clutter for obvious reasons.

“The Miners are going to make it tough on us,” Gark commented as he stirred his chili a little bit. “Got a good offense. Just like the old days.”

“Smash-mouth Limmie?” Cal asked.

“Pretty much. Except back then I had more experience along the back line,” Gark mused as he ate another spoonful of chili.

“Back in my days in the military,” Sarge began.

“No more war stories, Sarge!” Smokey commented, obviously annoyed. Sarge usually started off his thoughts with old war stories. Sometimes it was a problem to get him to shut up.

“No, I wasn’t going to say more than you need to be careful, my boy,” Sarge said. “You need to hunker down and take what they give you. If you stand and hold that line, just like I did with my platoon back in the Cascerdian campaigns, when I retook multiple hills by keeping a defensive formation and driving the enemy back . . .”

“Get to the point, Sarge,” Lago commented.

“Fine. You need to keep them in front of you and not let them get behind you. Because then you’re dead, or in this case scored upon,” the Chiss finished.

Before anyone could say anything, the door opened once again and the shape of a large-bellied Besalisk came into view. “Afternoon, patrons!” said Tex, the owner of the Diner. Although he claimed descent from the original Dexter Jettster who opened this diner hundreds of year earlier, not everyone bought it. He likely was a distant relative, but obviously he had done enough to be given the keys to the establishment. Plus it helped that he was as large as Dex supposedly was. “I can see that I’m only a few minutes late for all the typical lunch banter?”

“Hey Tex,” said most of the patrons at the counter.

“Hey, whaddya know? It’s our favorite furry lunch companion!” Tex commented. He came over and gave Gark a hard slap on the shoulder, almost rattling the spoon from Gark’s grasp. “Haven’t seen you around for a month. What’ve you been up to?”

“Coaching, as usual,” Gark replied, trying to keep a firm grasp on the utensil in case Tex decided to give him another well-intentioned slap on the back. “We were on the road all those weeks, and then last week . . . eh, I guess I was just busy getting back in the routine of being home. Long road trips are never fun.”

“How’s the family?” Tex asked as he went behind the counter. “Your son’s getting bigger every time I see him, I swear.”

“They’re doing fine,” Gark replied. “Obviously don’t like the road trip any more than I did, but they’re managing. Comes with the territory.”
“Good to know,” Tex said. “So, general question. Are any of you going to show up for the annual Life Day dinner?”

“Probably,” Smokey said.

“Can’t. Got family in town, and I don’t think they want to come here, despite all the times I’ve said it’s the best place to be,” Cal replied.

“Maybe. I’ll check with my relatives,” Del said.

“I’ll be here,” Gark replied. “Probably with the rest of the family, as usual.”

“Good,” Tex replied. “I’ve gotta get to some things, so I can’t stay and chat. However, that being said, give the Miners hell this week, all right? Limmie is good for business, I always say.” The Besalisk moved through the doors into the kitchen and disappeared.

“So, Gark, we had a few questions regarding our fantasy teams,” Smokey said.

“You guys know I’m not knowledgeable with such things,” Gark replied. The guys had a lunch counter league with a few others friends who sometimes showed up to these lunch “meetings”.

“Oh come on, it won’t kill you to answer a few questions,” Cal replied.

“All right, fine. What do you want to know?”

“Do I start Fortune or Deenever this week?” Smokey asked.

“I know who I would choose right now based on season performance,” Gark said. “But I hope Fortune has the better day for obvious reasons.”

“What about midfielder? Ryder or Hovechar?”

“Ryder’s hot right now, so I would probably roll with her unless the matchup isn’t good,” Gark said. He didn’t know the rest of the league schedule off the top of his head. All he cared about right now was his game.

“Last question. Renhorn or Tiin?”

“Did you seriously ask that question?” Gark asked. “You forgetting where you are, Cal?”

“No, I just . . .”

“You always start the Senator over anyone else!” Smokey said. Everyone got a good laugh out of this.

“Don’t make me start charging you more for your lunch,” Lago said.

“Really, Smokey, start who you want. It’s probably a toss-up,” Gark said. “Gayla had a good game last week, but she’s not the top option. Tiin is likely your best bet if the Lightning keep playing well.”

For the next hour, the lunch crowd bantered back and forth about various subjects, and a good time was had by all as usual.

TAG: No One

 

IC: Jacen Hunter
Meshla Vhetin, Mercs vs. Packers.

It was exciting to be going to a game in the huge stadium after the past two Mercs road games. Jacen just hoped it turned out to be a better result than the last home game had been. The loss to the Miners had stung, but the Mercs season was still going strong as they were in the midst of the playoff hunt. Of course some of that excitement had been tempered by the attack that had occurred on Euceron following the Mercs departure. He had over heard others, Mandalorians, talking about it as he and his family took their seats.

"Not surprised they waited for the fans to leave before they shot up the place. That many mando'ade around, the tangos would have been deep fried."

"Of course the terrorists got the drop on the jetiise (Jedi), bunch of sanctimonious fools who couldn't guard a field latrine...."

"Wish it would have happened during the game, maybe we could have eked out a win that way...."

"Maybe next year they will try it here and we can slit their throats on the field. Or would the Bothan ban us all for that?"

That one was followed by lots of laughter, but Jacen didn't get it. People had died and these Mandalorians didn't really seem to care. Plus they were being awfully hypocritical Jacen thought, for a planet that had lost their leader to a sneak bomb attack and then started a war halfway across the Galaxy. just who did they think they were kidding? But he didn't have the courage to say anything like that. At least they were all respectful during the pre-game moment of silence. Sadly that was the high point of the game.

Jacen had never seen a defense like the one the Packers had ended up suing only minutes into the game. The double team on Mor'kesh was too much for the Mercs other beleaguered midfielder to handle. Gozer had ended up starting the game opposite the Merc's All-Star Midfielder, but he was out of his depth and it showed. He just didn't have the time in the Mercs system (or with the Mercs players) to be truly effective. Turnovers and missed assignments on the defensive end abounded. The Mercs quickly fell behind.

Vizsla went to Vau midway through the first half but that ony made things worse. The Mercs had already fallen behind big, but Vau was determined to make up the difference all by himself. He failed. Spectacularly. He took insane risks and crazy gambles, ones that didn't pay off and only led to even more turnovers. By halftime an incensed Vizsla had benched the hotshot and gone with Horonel. The young player at least knew his spacing within the system and the correct plays to be called given the circumstances. But he was too small and was blocked out of position by the physical Packer's defense. Physically beaten on nearly every play he could barely get to the ball, much less do anything with it.

Vizsla rotated between he and Gozer for the rest of the half, but between their miscues and the double team of Mor'kesh the Mercs simply didn't get many offensive touches. Those they did have were nearly all easily dismantled by a well rested Packer's defense. In the end it was a slaughter, only Daryc had managed a couple of goals to account for all the Mercs points. Though Mor'kesh had managed an assist despite the double team, it was a hard loss, and one that would be tough for the fans and the team to come back from. Worse yet next week was they hosted the hated Smugglers, and for that Jacen didn't know what to expect...

---

One week later, The Game of Rivals.

Despite last weeks performance there was an excitement in the air as Jacen and his family made their way to the Meshla Vhetin for the match up against the Smugglers. This was The Game of Rivals, and these teams hated each other so much that they didn't even bother with a trophy. It wasn't a game for bragging rights, or respect or silly hardware that passed back and forth between the two teams. It was a game of pure good old fashioned hate.

To be honest Jacen wasn't quite sure where the hatred had come from. His dad had explained that it had started with the tensions between the ownership groups of each team and like all things to do with the mand'alor, it had trickled down through the team and to the fans. That explained the Mercs side of it anyway, Jacen could only guess that it was something similar for the team from Nar Shaddaa. Still, even though he couldn't explain it, Jacen found himself getting caught up in the furor.

They almost didn't make it to the game. The roadways to the stadium were blocked with traffic and pedestrians. Mandalorians all taking part in the "festivities". Of course part of what they were doing was admiring the new "decorations" that mand'alor Taab had ordered in place to inspire and rile up the fans. Lining the roadways to the stadium (but located off of Meshla Vhetin's "footprint") were the bodies of countless Ssi-Ruuk soldiers and officials, on pikes. Jacen's mother was disgusted, and his father looked sickened too. "I don't want to go anymore," she had said. "I can't do it."

"But Mom!" Jacen cried out, "I want to see the hate game!"

"Don't call it that!"

In the end his dad managed to convince her to go though, at least there were no bodies in the stadium. At least not yet.

Jacen had never seen the Meshla Vhetin so worked up. Even the ELL mandated recording that showed on the holo-tron, the one read by Mercs players informing them of the code of conduct that was so often ignored by everyone brought up jeers and boos from the crowd. They especially disliked the part where Vau read the section about not throwing objects onto the field. Jacen wasn't sure if that was because they fans had turned on Vau (HSN said he had threatened to quit unless he got more playing time) or because they had planned on pelting the Smugglers players and bench during the game. For his own safety Jacen hoped it was just the former.

The Mercs players were announced then, to tremendous fan fair and cheering and the thumping of chest plates. That raucous, yet cheerful noise was replaced as the Smugglers were led onto the field. Words that Jacen would never dream of even thinking, much less saying, were strung together in ways so imaginative that it defied explanation. Words flung down to the Smugglers on their sideline. Jacen hoped it wasn't rocks...or worse next. It was at that moment that he realized that the home made signs that many fans were holding, the ones painted in a myriad of colors, those that exhorted the Mercs to "Kill the Smugglers" may actually be meant to be taken literally. It frightened Jacen...and excited him at the same time. This was going to be one heck of a game.

TAG: Vehn.

 

IC: Falene Trieste
University of Coruscant, Coruscant



In their clean road whites with dark blue numbers, the barest hint of gold, and dark blue socks the Miners left the visitor's locker room at the University of Coruscant. The facilities, which had been judged to be of sufficient quality by the Elite League, still felt a bit more sparse and cramped than the other Elite League facilities that the Miners had visited this season. On the upside, it meant that there wasn't much to distract the Miners from the task at hand. That task was clear as crystal to Falene. They had to come in here and beat the Coruscant Senators, with whom they were engaged in a tie for first place above the Solo Conference. If they won, the Miners would be in good position for the playoffs. Losing this game would hurt those chances a lot and make their trip to Stoney End Park a must-win game. Falene hadn't played in a must-win game at the pro level yet. She'd rather not if she could avoid it. Will Detra and Max Grap were familiar with UC's stadium from their college days. “It might not be the old Andromeda Steel Field,” Max said, “but when you filled the place with Hawkbat fans, it got loud. I'm betting the Senator fans are going to bring the noise.”

“Yeah, it might look like a dinky college stadium, but it can rock,” Detra agreed.

“All the more reason to get out ahead early and keep them quiet,” Valerii had said, cutting into the locker room chatter.

Ever since landing on Coruscant, everyone had steered clear of what they knew was the taboo subject for the head coach: the showdown with Korthe. The pair had developed a pretty fierce rivalry, one that Gaeriel had dominated at its inception. Pamila had started to turn things around recently and it was not a trend that Valerii liked. Though the Showdown had become a big game in its own right, everyone knew that the stakes were just that much higher with Korthe at the helm. The news out of Coruscant that Korthe would not be coaching due to illness was not remarked on, but all the players knew just by looking at each other that they were all thinking the same thing: What's this going to do to Coach? Valerii didn't seem to bat an eye at the change.

In fact, as Falene—fresh from her pregame high five with Niskat—swaggered onto the field, a sideline reporter for HSN caught up with Valerii. “Coach Valerii, no Pam Korthe on the sidelines for the Senators today. How does that change your game plan?”

“Doesn't change a thing,” Gaeriel said, raising her voice to be heard over the crowd noise, “Not a thing. Gark S'rily has a proven track record as a head coach in this league. He's a Galactic Cup champion on the sidelines and in the front office. I think we're going to see some tricks out of him today. We've got a few of our own.”

“Thanks Gaeriel,” the reporter said, peeling off.

The Senator fans eschewed the pageantry and song common on Bakura for simple sound. They liked to get loud and stay loud. As the start of the game drew closer, they just got louder and louder. It seemed Grap had known what he was talking about when he said that University of Coruscant's stadium could get loud. Gaeriel pulled her team in close to yell over the crowd noise.

“We've practiced hard all week,” Valerii said, “Let's put some points on the board and take them right out of the game. We know what we have to do. Nan—Gamble is going to be all over you like a mynock on a power line. This has got to be a huge day for you or the Senators are going to cut the field in half and that's going to make life easy for Leed. Max—shut Qorbus down. He's got a huge game in him coming, he's overdue. Neffroq—McKerty is their X factor. Make him a non-factor. You know how to play our defense, let's do it. Keep them forced to the outside, take away time and space, and create chaos for them. Pound away on Leed. Hammer her. Get in her head, forwards. Everybody knows what we're playing for today. This is the galaxy's biggest stage. Play like the team you are.”

As Falene got into position, she had Dauza Chary across from her. Chary was not one of the headliners on the Senators team, but she was a key cog in their offense. Stop Chary and those skill players down low like Qorbus and McKerty were going to see their touches go down dramatically and that was going to make the Miners' chances of winning go up quite a bit.

Now was when the Miners needed Falene's best. The Senators... Falene thought as she set her teeth for the start of play, It had to be the Senators...

TAG: Jedi Gunny

 

GM Post

This is the Push for the Playoffs, sponsored by SoroSuub (who is now legally obligated to pay me a large amount of fictional currency). Bonus rolls to Agamar, Bakura, Coruscant, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, and Ralltiir.

Week 7

Chandrila Patriots at Rydonni Prime Monarchs (2-30)
Bakura Miners at Coruscant Senators (24-19)
Ralltiir Starkillers at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers (31-1)
Ylesia Lightning at Euceron Storm (17-15)
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Mando’ade Mercs (26-19)
Corellia Rebels at Agamar Packers (15-4)

In the Skywalker Conference, HSN projects* that the Corellia Rebels and Ylesia Lightning have clinched playoff spots. In a three way, 5-4 tiebreak between Euceron, Nar Shaddaa, and Ylesia, Ylesia has beaten Euceron and Nar Shaddaa, Euceron has beaten Nar Shaddaa, and Nar Shaddaa has beaten no one. A Euceron win in Week 9 clinches a playoff spot for Euceron. A Nar Shaddaa win and a Euceron loss clinches a Nar Shaddaa playoff spot. Corellia has clinched a first round bye. A Corellia win or a Bakura loss in Week 9 will clinch the Commissioner's Trophy for Corellia.

In the Solo Conference HSN projects* that the Bakura Miners have clinched a playoff spot. In a A Bakura win will clinch a first round bye. In a three way, 5-4 tiebreak between Chandrila, Coruscant, and Hapes, all teams are 1-1 and seeding will be decided by point differential. In a three-way, 6-3 tiebreak between Bakura, Coruscant, and Hapes, all teams are 1-1 and seeding will be decided by point differential. A Bakura win or a Hapes loss will clinch a first round bye for Bakura. A Bakura win and a Corellia loss will clinch the Commissioner's Trophy for Bakura. A Hapes win, a Bakura loss, and a Coruscant loss will clinch a first round bye for Hapes.

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

*and they've been known to be wrong

 

IC: Falene Trieste
University of Coruscant, Coruscant



It had been a hard day for Falene Trieste. Her white road jersey, which had started the game so pristine and shining, now looked closer to a Kashyyyk Ranger jersey. It was stained brown and green from hitting the pitch time and time again as she'd battled with Chary. The Nemoidian had played well today, losing Falene a few times in the Senator break in to the zone. Falene had returned the favor, stuffing Chary plenty of times and stopping the Senator attack in its tracks.

The good news was that the Miners were having relative success at the opposite end of the field. Gamble had once again done her thing. Stormborn was essentially a non-factor in the game. Gamble had her completely covered. Every time the half forwards passed to Stormborn, the very least that happened was that the pass got broken up. More often than not the bolo-ball got picked off by Gamble, who would quickly reverse the field and put it back up the field and onto the attack.

That meant that the Miners had gone to the stalwarts: the Bears in the middle. Rodders was doing back and forth passing with Detra to keep Leed moving and prevent her from getting set. The end result was that Rodders would usually end up with the ball to fire it at the Coruscant net. Leed was able to block some, but not all. Behind Rodders, Deenever would fire for bar points off her feet while peppering Leed with shots on goal to keep Leed off balance.

On the negative side, Persnor was getting fouled left and right by Ternardiel, who was having trouble adjusting to covering such a skilled player. The result was that Persnor was getting plenty of free kicks today. At a break in play, Valerii chewed out Ponie.

“This is not the game for that!” Valerii scolded Ternardiel.

“It's disrupting their offense!” Ponie protested, “We're holding them!”

“You've got to play smarter Ponie!” the head coach said, “The Senators are going to kill us on penalties if you keep this up!”

The penalties were indicative of just what a grinding game this was. Falene had physical contact with Chary just about every time the bolo-ball came anywhere near her. She was locked into the game. There were no distractions for her, just a focus on the play and the ball. The Miner defensive breakout was hard. This was a smart Senator offense, one that was reading the Hulu defense pretty well. Some of what the Miners were doing fooled the Senators, but they were nowhere near as skillful as they'd been against the Starkillers last week.

The game was one of fire and hurt for Falene. Nothing came easy for her today. Everything was earned, nothing was given on both sides. Falene had played plenty of rivalry games, especially against the hated UBTV Pioneers. She'd played this game last year and lost a narrow one. This game, this year taught her what rivalries really were.

Falene was playing hard, her legs burning, focused on making sure Chary didn't get behind her, when she suddenly snapped out of the zone. Wizmark jumped in the air on the run and pumped a fist forward. That was when Falene realized what had broken her concentration. It had been the final buzzer.

The game was over. The Miners were going to the playoffs. Falene was going to the Galactic Cup Playoffs for the first time in her life.

Before Falene could celebrate, Ponie jumped on her back with a yell and the pair of them toppled to the ground.

“Yeah!” Ponie yelled, “Playoffs! Playoffs!”

Face down in the grass, like she had been plenty of times during the game, Falene couldn't roll over to embrace Ternardiel, but if she could have she would have. Grap and Zire extricated the two humans from each other and pulled them to their feet. By the time Falene got her bearings again, she was immediately crushed by Niskat.

“We did it! We're going to the playoffs!” Niskat exclaimed.

“Heck yeah!” Falene said as she hugged her best friend, “Playoffs!”

Falene was released from the literal Bear hug that she received in time to turn around and see the mass of media who had descended on midfield. They'd covered the Gark S'rily-Gaeriel Valerii handshake and congratulations and now descended on the handover of the Rosewood Gavel from Alysha Romax to Alana Glencross. Glencross shook hands with Romax before accepting the trophy, which she raised over her head. It was the first time since the creation of the trophy that the Miners had received it and to do so in a game that clinched them a playoff spot was extra sweet.

That was the only thing that mattered to Falene in this moment and the only thing she was thinking about.

After a disappointing first year in the Elite League, after questions about whether Falene was suited for the Elite League, after a “disastrous” draft day in the eyes of everyone in the Elite League, the Miners were going to the playoffs.

Anything was possible.

TAG: Jedi Gunny

 

IC: Gark S’rily
University of Coruscant

What a hard-fought game. The Bakura Miners had come in and beaten the Senators 24-19, but it hadn’t been easy for them. For every mistake made by Jayla Leed in goal, the Senator offense made up for it on the other end. When she wasn’t being mauled by Falene Trieste, some of which Gark thought should have been called fouls for interference, Dauza Chary had still dished the rock effectively. She wasn’t getting her normal assists, but that was because Riff Persnor was getting fouled so hard and so often by that one Miner rookie who Gark didn’t remember the name of off the top of his head kept fouling the Cathar. And they were not soft, marshmallow hits. They were of the bone-jarring variety. It got so bad that Riff finally sent his nemesis to the turf with a hard hit, just to return the favor.

It was hard to deal with a loss, especially one that pushed the Senators to the brink in the Solo playoff hunt. They could still make it to the postseason, but there possibility of sitting at home was now lingering in their minds. They had to make a stand; they had to make the playoffs. If they missed out after starting 5-2 . . . that would be unforgivable. Coaches were fired for that kind of collapse in this game. Limmie was a rough game, but the fans expected excellence, and never were afraid to speak their minds. Gark hoped it wouldn’t come down to that. He had done what he could in this one. Coming off the bench rusty like he had, he had kept the Miners guessing the whole game. Yes Leed had been terrible, but Gark hadn’t exactly been able to focus on his defenders the whole time. He was also trying to call plays to the offense that he wasn’t as familiar with as his old ones. Back in the day, he had the likes of Polis Vayne and Moen Heatly to get the ball and pound the defense into submission. With Lokesh Fil’ish running the show, the ball got where it needed to go more often than not. Now he had to trust players who he had never really coached before, and that might have been what cost him the game.

The lone bright spot on defense was Christine Gamble. The rookie was playing like anything but her first-year status. Every time the ball went into her end of the field, it was swallowed up by the black hole that she had become. A few fans in the stands even brought homemade signs that said “Gamble Island” on them, insinuating that any forwards going into her area were going to be stranded for the entire game. Yes Deenever had a good game, but it was Rodders who made the Miner offense run. They had the talent up there, and Deenever was plugged in as a cog. Christine had no such luck this season. After Jerek had gone down in the Euceron debacle, she had been the face of this defense, setting the intensity in most games and trying to gut out wins every week. Sure the Senators lost, but when their best defenders were out with injuries most of the season, the fact that a rookie had stepped up and brought it every game was something Gark knew the fans should understand. With Jerek on one end of the field, it made playing corner easier. But to completely dominate like Jerek, without the long-time veteran being there, that was quite an accomplishment. Gark knew he was biased that Gamble should win the Ingbrand for her efforts, but he really knew that his staff had scored a win by drafting her. The half backs were a different story. Myles Tormera, who had just come back from a broken hand to play in this one, had been torched, and it was obvious that he was rusty after a long layover. Ortho Dyhon and Zoom had been ineffective, and that had set the wrong tone. The Senators were missing Izzi Polakaya, the defensive midfielder who usually set the tone in the middle of the field to help set up the defense. Not having her out there caused Gayla Renhorn to play out of her comfort zone, and that cost the Senators more than a few times as they tried to stop Glencross and Pic.

After the post-game pleasantries, Gark addressed his team. They were battered and bruised, but still respected what he had to say. “I know we lost out there today. And the fans don’t like it when we lose games that we were in the whole way. But I want you all to know that you fought hard out there. You made them work for every inch they could get. I would have liked to have burned them a few more times in their defensive zone, but with our regular offense being shut down, we couldn’t make it happen.

Now we need to focus on winning next week. Ralltiir isn’t going to come in here and just let us roll over them. We need to come out early and attack them at every point. Whoever they have in goal, we need to make them understand that they are coming in to our house to play. And we never make it easy on a road team. So rest up and get ready for next week.”

As the players got ready to leave, Gark pulled his starting corners aside. Christine was trying to rub some grass off her face, and Reid Livingstone was putting pressure on his arm to check for any bone bruises. It had been that kind of game. “Jerek’s going to try and come back next week,” Gark said plainly. “I want to know if I should start him or let him come off the bench to start. I guess what I’m asking is . . . do you two have another solid game in your tanks?”

“I think so,” Christine said. “We just got beat up the middle today. If we can funnel those attackers to the corners, I think Reid, Abbey and I can finish them off before they reach Jayla. We had Stormborn covered today, and the Miners had to go elsewhere. It’s just too bad we couldn’t make the play.”

“We’ve got it,” Reid replied. “Give us a chance, coach.”

“All right,” Gark replied. “I’ll pencil you two in for next week. But Jerek is going to come off the bench as soon as someone struggles, so I want you two to bring the intensity next week? Alright?” The corners nodded. “Good work today, and get some rest. The last thing the fans need to see is their Ingbrand hopeful and workhorse corner tandem give up ground this late in the season. We can still make it to the postseason. But it all starts with you two.”


And he meant it. The Starkillers, like the Miners, had a top offense, so the Senators would need to bring pressure next week to keep a lid on them. This game, as usual with this team, was going to be a make-or-break contest. And the Senators would need to be ready.

TAG: No One for this game, Runjedirun for next week's game

 

Sub-GM Post

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

Limmie Futures League
Week 7
Tatooine Sandskimmers at Kamino Waves (18–16)
Concordia Crusaders at Druckenwell Marksmen (22–5)
Commenor Gundarks at Thyferra Force (9–11)
Kashyyyk Rangers at Byblos Red Wings (15–1)

TAG: Bardan_Jusik Vehn Runjedirun Rebecca_Daniels Jedi Gunny CPL_Macja

 

IC: Fenton

Fenton quickly stirred the vegetables one last time and set the table for two. His mom would be home from work any minute, she had just completed her first week at her new job and Fenton was planning to surprise her with a congratulatory dinner. One of the chef’s at the restaurant had been nice enough to let Fenton observe him in the kitchen the past several days in order to help him learn how to prepare his mother’s favorite dish. Preparing the meal had been much less of a chore than Fenton thought it was going to be. In fact he had even enjoyed it; he just hoped it tasted decent.

Just then his mother walked in “Smells great in here” she called from the doorway. “Did you order out Fenton? You know we can’t afford that.”

“Actually, I’m making dinner.” He answered.

“That’s not funny…” his mom began as he entered the kitchen. She stopped dead in her tracks. “You’re cooking!” she exclaimed in disbelief.

“Surprise,” Fenton said half heartedly.

“This is for me?”

“For successfully completing your first week of work,” Fenton began serving the plates. “Sit down and eat before it gets cold.” He added.

“Or before the game starts?” His mother prompted.

“Yes, there is a game on tonight, but that’s not for another hour. We have plenty of time to eat.”

Fenton sat down across from his mother and watched nervously as she took her first bite. “Fenton!” she exclaimed,” This is really good.”

“It is? I mean thanks.” Fenton tentatively took a bite and was relieved to agree with his mother’s assessment.

“I’m so proud of you” Fenton’s mother began. “You’re holding down two jobs, eating better, exercising, you’re learning to cook…” Fenton nodded and blushed a bit before he tuned out the rest of her gushing compliments. Only your mother could make you feel embarrassed when no one else was around he mused.

When she finally stopped he got up and cleared his plate. “I’m glad you liked dinner,” he said., "I'm going to watch that game now."

“I don’t know why you torture yourself” his mother started, but Fenton wasn’t listening he never missed a Starkillers game. He actually didn’t mind if they lost today anyway. Another loss just got them a potentially higher draft pick, something the Starkillers could use. Besides what male would pass up the opportunity to watch the finely tuned athletic bodies of the Buccaneers run up and down a Limmie field.

Fenton fumed at how well the Starkillers played that evening. Every one of them looked to be in the zone, whether it be on offense, defense or midfield their game was nearly flawless. Worst of all Galaxy Defender was out there, making great plays along with the rest of them. Diving and leaping to block shots. Where had this team been all season?

There was only one game left for the Starkillers this season. Next week on Coruscant and there was something special about it. Trey Till now a free man would be traveling there to support the team that had supported him. He was refusing to comment on any questions about his possible return to the sport. Fenton remembered Till and wondered if there was any potential for him to come back and play next year for the Starkillers just like everyone else on Ralltiir. Hopefully a new owner would be announced soon and such questions would be answered. It was rumored there were several bidders.

@ No One

 

IC: Ava Killenger
Thyferra

Once more Ava sat on the bench, witnessing the Force take on the Commenor Gundarks at Thyferra Stadium. She had come a long way from her drug complications, but that still hadn’t transitioned to playing time as she had hoped. Obviously Jed and Sulena Gure were still stringing her out as long as possible before letting her get into a game, and it bothered the rookie. She had done everything asked of her in practice, and then some when you added in the extra work she had to put in to comply with Jed’s season-long request. They said they still wanted to check her motivation . . . but how much more did she need to do to get on their good side to stay? It wasn’t like the Force could afford to keep her benched; with Thulius Jomas now with the Senators, and an injury to Alex Renhorn after she landed awkwardly in this game, the half forward stable was getting thin. Meyton Panning had gotten the call in front of her, and here she sat while he was out there playing. It just wasn’t fair.

This was a tightly-contest game, with the Gundarks not giving up easily despite having lost some of their best talent to the Euceron Storm after the shooting incident. The Force offense was struggling in spots, obviously missing Jomas and his large frame. Losing Renhorn was also hurting the team, so the offense had to go through the corner forwards more than the coaching staff liked. Almert Song, the undrafted free agent signee from two years prior, was now coming into his element, trying to punch his eventual ticket to the Elite League. The Senators were stacked at corner forward currently, but perhaps another team would eye him as a replacement with game experience? Maybe the Senators had a bargaining chip in their back pocket just in case they needed to deal a prospect or two in a trade for mid-level talent. He had tallied four points on the day, and on a pass from Panning slashed across the Gundark zone and put another ball over the bar. He was a man on a mission, it seemed.

By the time the game ended, Ava hadn’t even left the bench. She felt hurt as she joined her teammates going to the locker room, abandoned completely by the coaches. Why was she putting up with this? They were only abusing her, pushing her hard in practice for no reason other than a sick sense of satisfaction. They were obviously gaining great enjoyment from her suffering. And she was sick of it.

She sulked in her locker stall as Jed went over a few things to wrap up the match and get the team ready for the next week. She wanted to yell at him for leaving her on the sidelines when it was obvious that the other half forwards were struggling. Vooga was doing poorly, Jennacca had size but not much speed, and Panning was still adjusting to the speed of the game. Sure he had a good arm, but he made more mistakes than good plays today after Renhorn went down. The team needed her, but the coaches obviously didn’t want to let her get out there. She was just a body to put out there when it was garbage time, just another nameless face on the roster.

When she felt it was time to do so, she stormed into Jed’s office. Jed looked up at her, obviously not interested in hearing what she had to say. “What gives?” Ava demanded.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean,” he responded in a flat tone, devoid of any emotion.

“You’re leaving me on the bench to rot!” Ava exclaimed. “I come to practice early every day, I do everything you ask of me and more, I run through the rain and the slop and whatever else is sometimes out on the field, and yet you never let me play. What do I need to do? I’m sick of you acting like you know what’s in my best interest, but you turn a blind eye to my work! I can run rings around Panning, but when a starter goes down, do you look to me to replace them? No, you replace her with a pretty boy! We had a deal!”

“So what do you want me to do about it?” Jed asked, still expressionless.

“Give me a chance! Bench Panning and let me do what I was paid to do!” Ava said.

Jed sat there for several moments without speaking. “Well, in that case, then I suppose there is only one thing to do.” He paused here for several more seconds. “Ms. Killenger, when you were . . . demoted . . . here, you made a promise to me that you would work harder than you ever have before. And you have. But yet you haven’t played. Why is that?”

“Because none of you have liked me from the get-go!” Ava replied angrily. “All you’ve ever done is beat me down, toss me around like some two-bit rag doll. But you never let me play!”

“Incorrect,” Jed said, stopping Ava mid-rant. “I understand that you have been doing everything to fulfill your end of the bargain. However, there was one thing that was missing.” Another pause. “You never gave us the impression that you yourself were ready to play.”

“What?” Ava asked, confused. What in the hell did Jed mean?

“You’ve been working hard in practice, but you never once came to ask us to play more. I’m not exactly a firebrand, but you never acted like you wanted to play. You were going through the motions because we told you to, but before just now I assumed you didn’t think you were ready to play. Now I can see that you feel confident in your abilities. I really should cut you for such an outburst . . . but I have a better idea. Consider yourself a part of the rotation next week,” he concluded.

“A larger part than a benchwarmer?” Ava cautioned.

“If we deem that you are indeed ‘running rings’ around Panning, you may even be able to state your case for starting next week if Alex can’t go with her injury,” Jed said, taking his time.

“Me? A starter?” Ava asked, bewildered. That thought hadn’t even crossed her mind.

“But before we do that, I want to see you run those rings around Panning. If you want to start for us next week, you’ll need to earn that. But consider yourself playing next week. You wanted it, so now you’re going to get what you’ve wanted all along. Welcome to the team,” he said.

When Ava left the office, she didn’t know what to think. That outburst had come from the very depths of her mind, but Jed’s calmness in the face of the storm was something else. But he believed that she could start, despite hardly playing all season? What an opportunity to get back to the big leagues. Yes the LFL Commissioner had a lock on her contract for this season, but what about next year? Could she get a call-up next year if she played hard? Then it came to her that Jed had kept up his end of their little bargain; this was her second chance. It had taken her a while to get here, but it had finally arrived. And now she needed to follow through on it.

TAG: No One

 

GM Post

What We Learned: Week 8

This week was dubbed the “SoroSuub Push for the Playoffs.” We actually think it was the “SoroSuub Push for Blatant Marketing Tie-Ins.” The worst part is that there were actually some fantastic games this weekend, so this little marketing gimmick is probably now enshrined with the League for years to come. Way to go Kayl’hen.

Agamar Packers: Tim Dodd appears to have made arrangements for a Packers LFL team. Though the Gunners haven’t been admitted to the LFL officially, that’s really irrelevant. The Packers will now have a way to develop players in their unique system of limmie. The end result is that Agamar could be very dangerous, very soon.

Bakura Miners: It’s no surprise that the Miners are playing good offense. What’s surprising is that they have the fourth ranked defense in the League. Cuth Hulu might be crazy, but he took a defense that was dead last two years ago and turned them around. And maybe Trieste and Comstock had a little something to do with it.

Chandrila Patriots: Reina Kether has way more self-control than we thought. After another abysmal offensive performance, we thought for sure she’d declare she was coming out of retirement because “I could surely do better than this bunch of losers we’re fielding right now.” (And by losers, we mean “team that still has a decent chance of going to the playoffs.”)

Corellia Rebels: When you are snookering teams between the goalposts, it really doesn’t matter if you have the fifth worst offense in the League. It really doesn’t.

Euceron Storm: Turns out the Antilles Formation wasn’t exactly a panacea for all of Euceron’s ills. Then again, just like we didn’t judge it against a Dvorak defense, we’re not going to judge it against Kasin. But oh boy, this game against the Rebels is going to say a lot about whether this idea has got any legs.

Hapes Consortium Buccaneers: What’s that? The Bucs can fall out of the playoffs next week in the right scenario? If anyone can do it, we’re sure it’s them!

Mando’ade Mercs: Giving Quinn Cundertol your first round draft pick for a year in which you will be a non-playoff team is not going to feel good. But look on the bright side--the Mandalorians did win a war this season, so that’s something.

Nar Shaddaa Smugglers: If the Smugglers make the playoffs, which is still a possibility, Konrad Dvorak should not be fired. That’s right, we just said it. Your move Dvorak. (Of course we want Konrad to be fired because he’s so terrible. However, this is going to allow us to psych him out. Trust us, it’s totally going to work.)

Ralltiir Starkillers: In case anyone forgot, there’s a reason that Galaxy Defender has a huge ego. It’s because when he plays to his potential, he absolutely destroys another team and sends them home crying. Curse you Galaxy Defender for justifying your massive sense of self-importance!

Rydonni Prime Monarchs: fsdgfsd';/.`12ggbh356iggndl45%!@()45bnot^%T&(hnohr068967754yhptomg%&*^($taggtbgsb];nrhnr
Sorry, that’s a leftover from the drunken office celebration when the Monarchs utterly decimated the Patriots. If this is what the Monarchs are going to look like going forward…we are very scared for the other 11 teams in the League. There’s nothing scarier than a team looking to dole out some payback.

Ylesia Lightning: We never lost faith in you Kasin. Never.

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