Beyond - Legends Life and Limmie: Senator Tales (OC)

I have an idea now that I'm caught up.

 

Next Mykal post is here.


TAGs to Tim Battershell, Trieste, jcgoble3

Mykal made his move. He blasted the full forward across the way from him, and then scooped up the ball. Up the field it went, making its way to the Wylsonridge forwards. They had a minute left.

One of the forwards kicked it across the formation, then another forward caught it. Forty seconds left. They faked left but went right, and then passed it around. Around the horn the ball went, and now there were twenty seconds left. Twenty seconds to determine whether Wylsonridge would advance to the District Finals, or if this one would go to overtime. Mykal knew he didn’t have enough gas for OT; he had been worked by speedy forwards in this one, and he had to rest.

Finally the ball went up into the air with ten seconds left, and the sweet sound of ball hitting net must have occurred, because the Kell Dragon forwards celebrated. Mykal pumped his fist. It wasn’t long before the opposing team called for a timeout, and then after they went back out on the field, called in the gamble play. They needed a goal in eight seconds.

Mykal readied himself. He looked at his teammates, and then at the opposing forwards. No one was in the offensive zone for the Kell Dragons; all were back on defense. The opposing goalie kicked the ball past midfield, and the play was on. One quick pass, two quick passes, shot on goal. Mykal dove to try and get the ball out of the air, and he managed to nick it as it went past using his meaty arms. The ball spun off and landed in Tony’s hands as the horn blared out.

Wylsonridge was going to the District Finals for the first time in over forty years. The players, Mykal included, celebrated on the field. It wasn’t theirs, but they partied all the same. They had definitely earned the win, and when Coach Kammel talked to them in the locker room, he told them how proud he was to be their coach.

Mykal felt extremely accomplished. He had helped his team win yet another playoff game, their fourth in a row to get this far. If they won District, then they were on to Regionals, with a game, then the final bracket of 8 teams. It was a long season, but they had to make do.

After checking in with the family in the stands, Mykal accompanied his teammates to the local burger shack, where they celebrated their win with greasy burgers and fries. It wasn’t healthy, but the teenagers didn’t care. They had won a big game, and deserved to celebrate it.

Then there was Kortney. Mykal hadn’t noticed her in the throng of teenagers at the shack, and when he did, he knew that things were alright. The head cheerleader gave him a big hug, and for the first time ever actually kissed Mykal. That gave some of the guys ideas to torment their teammate, all in jest.

“Hey Mike, going to win the whole title for your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” Mykal said. “Jealous much?”

And so the night went on. Finally, after about an hour at the place, Mykal went home and got in a good night’s sleep. He had earned it, both on the pitch and in the classroom. His grades were good, and the colleges kept sending him recruiting mail. All was good.

Mykal’s College Recruitment Tracker:

Biggelow College (Denon)
University of Zeltros
Tanaab A&M University
College of Fondordelphia
University of Corellia, Bella Vistal
University of Tatooine, Anchorhead
University of Dantooine
Balmorra State University
The Ord Sabaok University
National University

 

Mykal's list is so incomplete it's not funny. He clearly needs to play for a Bak10 school. Hasn't he gotten his recruitment package from UBTV? He'd fit in great there. They have some really awesome jerseys already made for him.

 

Since I can't turn down an executive order, it shall be so.


TAGS to Tim Battershell, Trieste, jcgoble3


Wylsonridge had done it. They had won District. Now it was on to the Regionals, and after one game there they had the World Championship. That was a 16-team field, and was the stomping grounds of the best teams on Coruscant. And Wylsonridge was one game away from getting there.

Mykal couldn’t believe it. It was just his second year of organized Limmie, and he had gotten his team this far. The offers were pouring in, but he had deiced that unless a really good offer came in, he would stick to his original Top 10. A few offers from Bak10 schools came in, and although Gark had instilled a mistrust of Bakura after the Miners blew the Senators out of the water yet again, the Bothan had also said that it was up to teen where he wanted to go to college. If he wanted to go to Salis D’aar, Gesco City, or Evenvale, he was welcome to. After all, it wasn’t the Bothan who was going to college. So when offers for UGBC, which just happened to have won a league title, Evenvale, and UBSD came rolling in, Mykal put those aside. The one to the Air Fleet Academy he tossed aside, though. He had no interest in the military. He didn’t believe in their values, because he had seen what ex-military members had done in his neighborhood. Give a jerk a uniform and a blaster, and they were a menace to society. He wanted nothing to do with it.

After the game, Coach Kammel talked to his team, but the players could barely hear him as they chanted and laughed. It was a good feeling, to be sure, to be here. Mykal didn’t want it to end, but he knew that at some point they wouldn’t advance. Regionals would be tough, so if this was his last win in high school, he wanted it to count. The other seniors saw it the same way.

“Let’s go whip some ass next week in Regionals!” Kammel finished, and the team let out a big roar of approval.

When Mykal got out into the parking lot of the local community college field that had hosted the game, he was met by his adoptive family. Me’lin gave the teen a big hug. “You made us proud, Mykal,” she said.

“Thanks,” Mykal said, blushing a bit.

“Hey Mykal, you going all the way to the World Finals?” Galin asked hopefully.

“We’ll see,” Gark said. “It’s going to be extremely difficult to get through Regionals. They pull no punches at that level.”

“How do you know?” Me’lin asked, confused.

“Let’s just say I’ve scouted that round a few times, just on the Holo when I need something to do,” Gark replied. “And they play rough there, so Mykal, you’ll have to be on your A-Game. It will be a tough challenge, but one you can overcome if the team plays well and limits mistakes.”

“So basically like every Limmie game that has ever been,” Me’lin cracked.

“Pretty much. Anyways, good job, Mykal,” Gark said. “Choice of food tonight?”

“Nerf burger,” Mykal said, a small grin on his face.

“Nerf burgers it is,” Gark said. He slapped Mykal on the shoulder, and then held his grip on the teen’s shoulder. “You earned it. Now, let’s go eat before our star full back gets too hungry and tries to eat us out of house and home.”

The five of them, Cecilia included, went to the local burger joint, where they enjoyed their meal. It wasn’t great fare, but it was just a celebratory meal. Mykal got his favorite flavor of milkshake, and things were good.





Mykal’s College Recruitment Tracker:

Biggelow College (Denon)
University of Zeltros
Tanaab A&M University
College of Fondordelphia
University of Corellia, Bella Vistal
University of Tatooine, Anchorhead
University of Dantooine
Balmorra State University
The Ord Sabaok University
National University
Also Considering: UBSD, UE, UBGC

 

We all know he's going to go to OSU, right Bardan_Jusik?

 

You mean tOSU right?

 

I thought TAMU was the front runner...

Sent from a Galaxy far away via my comlink

 

And now for the promised Gark post. Amazingly, a thread about his life actually has a post mainly about him. Isn't that amazing?

TAGS to Tim Battershell, Trieste, jcgoble3



Gark returned from work that day feeling frazzled. It had been a long shift at Andromeda, and thinking about the looming end of the Limmie season was keeping his mind busy on other things. He had to talk it over with his beloved wife, and as soon as she asked him how his day was, he knew it was the right time to ask. So they retreated into the bedroom, where they could have privacy from their children. It was that important a conversation that the Bothan felt he needed to have.

“What’s wrong?” Me’lin finally asked after Gark sat down on the bed.

“I’m conflicted. For almost two decades, I’ve been the GM of the team. You have no idea how hard it would be for me to give it all up, even if I wanted to,” Gark said. “So much has happened since I took over, and I want to make damn sure I make the right decision in the end.”

“Gark, I can’t tell you how to live your life,” Me’lin said, now sitting down behind her husband, “but I can tell you what you could do from my end of things. These last few seasons have been extremely stressful on you, and as your wife, I can’t keep seeing you suffer like that. I know how much the team and the organization mean to you; I don’t blame you one bit. It’s like your second family. You’ve done so much with them, and I know you desperately want to keep it going.

But be realistic. We’ve got something good going here. A son going off to college next year, two young children to keep track of, and I’m carrying a third baby right now. That’s your real family, Gark. The team comes and goes, but I’m here to stay. The fans may not love you, but I just want you to know that I will always love you, no matter what you choose to do next year.

If you want to keep GMing because you know you’ll be at peace with your decision, then that is your choice to make, and yours alone. If that means bringing in some assistants, by all means do so. It’s worked for other teams, and it can work for you. But I don’t want you to feel that you’ve made the wrong decision. I want you to feel like you did what was best not just for yourself, but for the team, and for our family.”

“And that’s why I can’t make a quick decision,” Gark replied, still unsure of what to say. “This means a lot to me. I know it’s been a burden on both of us.”

“How much of a price is that burden worth, Gark?” Me’lin asked.

Gark sat there in silence for a good thirty seconds as he thought through what his wife had just said. What was the price of him staying on another year as General Manager? Could he accomplish something great, or would he fall flat and have to bow out in the midst of a complete lack of confidence from the fanbase? Could he really get up the nerve to quit his job and leave the front office? Would he be better off leaving the game entirely? What would that entail, anyways? He didn’t have answers, just more questions.

“To be honest, quite a bit,” he finally said. “It’s my chance to stay with the game I love. I know it hasn’t been pretty lately, but I want to give it another shot, try my luck.”

“But what if it’s just not meant to be?” Me’lin asked. She reached out and touched her husband’s shoulders softly with her hand. “Gark, I know it’s hard for you to contemplate, but I think it might be in our best interest if you just let it go and retire. Let someone else take over the reins.”

“What gives you the right to be the final arbiter of my decision?” Gark asked angrily shaking off Me’lin’s hand. It shocked the Twi’lek completely, and Gark looked at her face. She looked stunned at his act. “I’m . . . sorry,” he said. “I never should have yelled at you. Never meant to.”

“I know you didn’t,” she said softly. “But hear me out, honey. If you retire from the game, I know it will be a hard burden to bear for a while. But think about it. Your schedule has been ridiculous ever since I married you; the company, the team, and then your family. I’m surprised you’ve kept it going this long, I really am. But I think now is the time to determine which one of those three things is the most important to you. It’s up to you in the end, but . . . but I know which one I want you to pick.”

“You mean drop the GM role so that I can be home more?” Gark asked. He sat back down on the bed.

“Yes, honey,” Me’lin said. She draped her arms around Gark’s body, and pulled herself closer. “When we just had Galin, we were able to get by with daycare. But now Cecilia is about a year old, or will be by next season, and then we have a baby on the way. I can still be a stay-at-home mom and take care of them when you’re at work, but then you can be home more so that I can rest. And, before the baby comes, I need help getting around, since my belly will be so big that I might tip over if stuck in a bad situation. Please help me as much as you can. And that means being home more often. Galin would like it if you were; he misses you when you’re gone at work, and he feels like he doesn’t get enough time to be with his father.”

“I know he does,” Gark replied. “And I want to help him grow up right, but it’s hard . . .”

“And then you could focus on Andromeda. Just 40 hours a week, or whatever your hours are now, and then you’re home the rest of the time,” Me’lin offered. “Then you will have opened up your schedule considerably.”

“True,” Gark commented. His wife had a good point; two young children would be a handful, and Me’lin deserved some time to be to herself. She couldn’t be the nanny forever; at some point she needed a break. And he was in prime position to help her when she needed it. Besides, he wanted her support when he was busy with life, so why not give her back what she was already doing?

“Think about it, Gark. You can get a new GM, just be the owner of the team, and then be home more. Be the father I know you’re capable of being, for all your children,” Me’lin said. “And the best husband I could hope for.”

“You’re asking a lot,” Gark said.

“I know, but it’s what I’ve wanted to say for a while. It’s ultimately up to you, but please listen to what I’m saying. I love you, and I want you to be home more often. Because we’re better off if you do. The children will be around you more, and then we can spend some quality time together that we just aren’t getting now.”

“And if I keep the GM job?”

“It makes my life a bit more stressful, but I can manage because I love you so much, and I know that you’re following your passion in life. My recent passion was to get pregnant, so you should determine what’s best for you at this point in your life, and for the family you’ve helped me build. Please, just think it over. I’ll support you no matter what you do. Just make sure you’re at peace with what you’re doing when all is said and done.” She then leaned in and kissed her husband. “And now I need to go and feed Cecilia. I’ll let you think things over.” She got up from the bed and walked out of the room, her belly already looking a little bit plump from the baby’s presence. This left Gark to come to terms with what he really wanted in his life.

It was down to this: Senators or Me’lin? Limmie or the family man? GM or the new baby? He knew that this would be a major decision that he would have to think long and hard on. There would be no easy answers here.

He pulled a piece of flimsy from his back pocket. It had a few names on it of GM candidates, but also assistant GM candidates. He looked over the names; one column would be for if he kept going as GM, the others if he decided to throw in the towel. He would make calls to each one of them, just to see how they stood. After all, he wasn’t going to make his decision today. There was no way he could. But the time to decide was fast approaching, and he knew Me’lin was right. He had to make the decision he knew was the right one, and be at peace with it.

 

TAGS to jcgoble3, Trieste, Tim Battershell


Mykal knew the stakes. Wylsonridge was down by a point with twenty seconds left, and the opposing team had the ball. He had to make a play so that his offense could get the ball back. He slammed the bulk of his weight into the opposing half forward, who hadn’t seen him coming. The ball trickled out, and then Mykal kicked it as hard as he could. He had to pray that it got to a teammate.

And it did. A midfielder jumped up and punched the ball out of the reach of an opposing player, and a Kell Dragons forward caught the ball. She took a quick look at the clock at twelve seconds, and then made a stutter-step to shake the defender. It didn’t work as well as intended, so she passed off to the Barabel corner forward. He tried to get free, but couldn’t. A screen coming from the full forward opened the junior forward up, and he passed it back to a streaking half forward. The senior quickly checked options and let the ball go right before being drilled into the turf by a hit to the side.

The ball snapped into the back of the net. Wylsonridge had scored three points, and with only three seconds left on the clock, the other team needed a goal. The crowd for the other school, raucous for the whole game, was now eerily silent, the air taken out of their sails by the unbelievable goal. Coach Kammel put out all of his defenders, even one or two who barely had any varsity experience. They couldn’t give up a goal.

The ball never even made it to midfield. The goalie shanked the kick, and it sailed out of bounds with possession to Wylsonridge. They inbounded the ball and killed the remaining two seconds, and that was that. They had won in regionals, and were headed on to the World Finals at their division level.

Mykal joined in the dogpile at midfield, his teammates overjoyed to be here. They were all soaking in the victory, as they had never thought they would make the Regionals coming into the year, let alone win it. So this was a gigantic achievement for all of them, most of whom would never play in college. They had to enjoy the moment, because as Coach would remind them, they had another game soon, and that would be just as hard, if not harder, than this one.

In the locker room, the celebration continued for the Regional Champs. They had never gotten this far in school history, and everyone knew that this might be the best school team ever seen. Coach reiterated that they couldn’t truly relax until they won the whole damn thing, but as far as his kids were concerned, they had already gotten this far. If they lost, yes it would be disappointing, but they had done something no other squad from Wylsonridge had ever done. They had nothing more to prove, so they could just take in the moment and try to enjoy it while they could. After all, they had every intention of coming out with fire in the next game, likely against a private school who could recruit athletes with lures of scholarships. To Mykal, that seemed like cheating; why private schools could offer scholarships to athletes but wouldn’t let everyone in seemed like college but instead at the high school level. Screw the prep schools, he was going to win as much as he could with his public high school team.

When he got home from the game, he checked his mail inbox again. Two more offers had rolled in, but he likely wasn’t going to heed them. He was already trimming his options down to eight or nine schools, and then it would be on to offseason recruiting for coaches. Me’lin had him practicing how he would react to answers from coaches he had never met who might show up at his doorstep asking for a chance to speak with him, and she had worked meticulously to make him act professionally in front of them. A mock interview every now and then kept him sharp, or at least she hoped it would. After all, Mykal had never been good in one-on-one situations like that, so the Twi’lek desired that the teen be able to speak coolly and confidently when coaches came calling.

The next game was in two more weeks, which meant three tests and a project in between now and then. Mykal knew he would have a lot of homework to do before he would find out how his team would fare in the World Finals quarterfinals round. Only time would tell.


Mykal’s College Recruitment Tracker:

Biggelow College (Denon)
University of Zeltros
Tanaab A&M University
College of Fondordelphia
University of Corellia, Bella Vistal
University of Tatooine, Anchorhead
University of Dantooine
Balmorra State University
The Ord Sabaok University
National University
Also Considering: UBSD, UE, UBGC

 

TAGS to Tim Battershell, Trieste, jcgoble3



Snap!

That was the sound of yet another goal put up by the other time past a bewildered Tony. The kids from Wylsonridge knew exactly what it meant; they were outclassed in all ways today. They just didn’t have it against a private school that could recruit kids from middle school.

With the game out of reach in the last few minutes, Coach Kammel finally threw in the towel and pulled his starters from the game to let the younger players get playing time in the World Finals Bracket rounds. Mykal, as a graduating senior, got a hug from his coach and was joined by his fellow seniors on the bench as they waited for the game to end. Emptying the bench sucked when you were a starter, but it was for the best. They couldn’t win. All they could do was get experience for the younger players.

When the game was over, Coach Kammel made sure that his team took a knee around him near their goal. “You did one hell of a job this season, every one of you,” he said. “I’m proud to have been your coach. Not only did we win a bunch of games this year, but this is the farthest any Wylsonridge team has ever gotten. Those kids over there are gonna likely go pro someday, and they played like it. But we all know that they don’t play like we do at those places. They can recruit. We did our best with kids from the system we developed. And that’s more important than winning. We did it, guys. Every one of us did something this season, and I appreciate the effort. Don’t feel put out; we got this far. Remember that for the rest of your lives.”

When Mykal undressed out of his uniform in the locker room and put his street clothes back on, he had an uncertain feeling in his gut. This was the last high school game he would ever play in, and then it was on to college. But the rest of his teammates likely wouldn’t continue on in the game. Tony and Doog, for instance, they were on to college as students, not players. How lucky was he to be able to keep his dream alive?

“We gave it our best,” Tony said. “That’s all we could hope for.”

“Yeah,” Mykal said. “Feel bad that it ended like this?”

“Duh,” Tony said. “But Coach is right, we got this far. It’s something I’ll always be able to look back upon. And you, you lucky frakker, you get to play in college.”

“I know. I’m lucky.”

“Well, make us all proud, OK?” Tony said. “Because the school’s going to remember you long after you graduate.”

Those words echoed in Mykal’s head as he went out to the speeder. This was where he met up with his family. “You did your best, Mykal,” Me’lin said, trying to comfort the teen. “They just had the better team tonight. But don’t feel ashamed; you got this far.”

“I know. Now it’s on to college, right?” Mykal asked.

“As soon as you graduate,” Me’lin reminded him. “Now that Limmie is over, you can focus all your efforts on schoolwork.”

“And on being a teen, too,” Gark reminded the Twi’lek. “He can’t just do school stuff. We all know that’s not possible. Besides, the recruiters will be out soon. That’ll change things.”


Whatever the score, Mykal knew that one chapter of his life had just ended. It was on to the next one.



Mykal’s College Recruitment Tracker:

Biggelow College (Denon)
University of Zeltros
Tanaab A&M University
College of Fondordelphia
University of Corellia, Bella Vistal
University of Tatooine, Anchorhead
University of Dantooine
Balmorra State University
The Ord Sabaok University
National University
Also Considering: UBSD, UE, UBGC

 

TAGS to Trieste, Tim Battershell, jcgoble3, Bardan_Jusik


Mykal sat on the sofa listening to the third coach of the recruiting season. He was in hot demand, and coaches from all over were coming to talk to him. He was intrigued by all they had to offer him, but was unsure of where he wanted to go. There had been some trimming of scholarship offers from his list, but he was keeping all his options open. That’s what Gark had said, and the teen was holding himself to that.

“Mr. Oha, we’d love to have you come play for us,” the coach said.

“I’ll consider it,” Mykal said. “Thanks for coming, coach.”

And out the coach went. Mykal took a short nap and then worked on homework, but he was interrupted when Me’lin called from the front door. “Mykal, another coach to see you!”

That made two home visits in one day. It had to be some sort of record, Mykal thought. He was certainly a commodity out there for colleges. It meant he had done something right as a high school player. He went into the living room and was met with the sight of a coach wearing a scarlet and gray tie on his sports suit. “Mykal, I want you to meet Coach Wood E. Hayes, head coach from Ord Sabaok University.”

“Well, we prefer emphasis on the ‘The’,” the man said. “But I won’t go into that. It’s tradition. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Oha,” he continued, extending his hand. Mykal shook it.

“Would you like to sit down?” Me’lin offered.

“Yes, I would very much like to,” Hayes said. Mykal sat down opposite him. “And, congratulations, by the way,” the man said to the Twi’lek. “You and your husband must be proud.”

“We are,” Me’lin said. Mykal figured they were talking about his adoptive mom’s pregnancy, so he stayed out of it. “I’ll bring something by if you would like it, Coach.”

“If it’s alright, I will take a nice glass of water. It’s rather hot out there right now,” the Coach said.

“Certainly. Mykal, good luck,” Me’lin said before waddling to the kitchen. This left Mykal and the coach alone.

“Well, Mr. Oha, you know why I’m here,” Hayes began. “Do you mind if I call you Mykal?”

“Nope.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, you want me to come to Ord Sabaok,” Mykal said. “I’ve been considering your offer, at least with all the others I’ve gotten.”

“Well, Mykal, we want you to come to our school. Ask any questions you may have.”

“Well . . . Ord Sabaok . . . what’s it like?”

“It’s a very nice place, Mykal,” Hayes replied. “We have a very beautiful campus, an academic backbone that doesn’t quit, if research is of interest, and a rabid fanbase. We have a lot of tradition that we would like you to become a part of.”

“Can I go pro if I go to your school?”

“Your chances will be as good as any school, if not a little better. We routinely have a player or two who gets in the HSN Draft Rankings every year. And we’ve produced a lot of winners. Christine Gamble, the talented corner back your father picked in the Draft all those years ago? I coached her in college.”

Mykal found that interesting. He had made sure to watch footage of Gamble playing; although she had several rough seasons, she at least didn’t look completely lost out there. He had tried to learn what he could from watching her style. Then again, her talent was in form tackles and speed, his was in brute strength. So there was a lot of leeway there.

“Tell me, Mykal, what do you want to do when you grow up? And this is a serious question.”

“I want to go to college. After that, I don’t know.”

“You want to go pro, correct?”

“Well yeah, that’s what we all want, isn’t it?” Mykal asked.

“Well, Mykal, I can help you get there. And, if Limmie doesn’t work out for you, we’ll give you a quality education. You can then blaze your own trail off the pitch. It’s not as glamorous, I know, but it’s a perk of going to The Ord Sabaok University. You’ll get full attention in our student education service program, and become a better person out of college with the opportunities we offer for professional advancement.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“What’s it like to have a bunch of students chanting your name? In a college stadium, I mean.”

“It’s amazing, Mykal. You ever hear of ‘BMOC’?”

“No . . . ?”

“It’s ‘Big Man on Campus’, Mykal. And that could be you someday, when everyone knows your name. I hear you’re pretty popular at school right now. Imagine that and more.”

Mykal tried to think of what that would be like. He wanted to have people care that he existed. When he was growing up, people had always ignored him, so he had been quiet and not said much. Now, to have the chance to be the star full back at a Super 16 school, that was enticing.

But several other questions remained. One of them manifested themselves when Galin wandered into the room. “Um . . . sorry,” the boy said, blushing a bit when Coach Hayes saw him.

“Hey, kiddo. What’s your name?” Hayes asked, not skipping a beat. He knew he could use this to his advantage.

“Galin,” the boy said. “Mykal’s my brother.”

“Ah, I see. Fine brother you have, kid,” Hayes commented. “I’m the head coach at Ord Sabaok University. You probably know them best from Christine Gamble. I coached her in college before your Dad drafted them.”

“Really? Cool,” Galin said, his eyes lighting up. Hayes knew he had the boy right where he wanted him. If he could get the boy to convince his brother to sign with OSU, then he’d be pulling a major coup. All of his intelligence had told him that Oha was looking at a ton of offers, and he really wanted the full back for the Starbucks.

Me’lin appeared from the kitchen with a glass of water in her hand. She saw Galin there. “Galin, I told you not to interrupt,” she said sternly.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. He’s more than welcome to stay here. I have no objection,” Hayes said.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I don’t mind either,” Me’lin said. She handed Hayes the water glass and retreated from the room.

“Coach, I have another question.”

“What?”

“If my family wants to come to games, since they can now . . .”

“You asking about perks?”

“I guess so,” Mykal said, unsure.

“We can set your family up with some good perks, trust me,” Hayes said. “Good seats, a chance to meet the athletic director . . . after all, I want your father, especially, to feel comfortable sending you to my school . . . and some on-field passes, maybe? That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” he asked Galin.

“Yeah,” the boy said, his eyes lighting up.

“A chance to see what it’ll be like when you go to college,” Hayes continued. “Which leads me to another question, Mykal. Right now, I have two full backs on the roster for next year. One of them is a senior, the other a sophomore. Now, I don’t know what your opinion is on this, but you likely won’t play much, if at all, next season as a freshman. You can redshirt that year, you know, get your feet wet in college and graduate in five years, or you could possibly switch positions . . .”

“I don’t know, Coach. I’ve never played any other position,” Mykal said nervously. Coach Kammel had never asked him to do that.

“I’ll let you think it over,” Hayes said. “But after this next year, you would have a good shot to be the starter at full back.”

“I’d like that.”

“And then I wouldn’t ask you to change positions again.”

“Tell me about the team.”

“We’ve got a good one for next year. I think we can contend for the division title, and maybe get a spot in the Carnation Bowl. You never know. We’ve got the talent, and we always need some new blood on the back line.”

“Could I develop into a star player?”

“Our coaches will work with you to make you a better player. Of course you can develop your skills. I just don’t know if you want to be thrown into the fire at first, or if you want to take it easy and redshirt. It’s up to you, but I’d love to have you on my team.”

“I’ll have to think on it.”

“And by all means do so. Just remember what I said about the opportunities we offer, and all the perks your family will get,” Hayes said.


Fifteen minutes later, Hayes left the S’rily home feeling accomplished. He had put it all out there, and he was not ashamed of how things had turned out. As for Mykal, he knew Ord Sabaok would be a good place for him to land. Now he had to weight the other offers and see what was best for him.


Mykal’s College Recruitment Tracker:

Biggelow College (Denon)
University of Zeltros
Tanaab A&M University
College of Fondordelphia
University of Corellia, Bella Vistal
University of Tatooine, Anchorhead
University of Dantooine
Balmorra State University
The Ord Sabaok University
National University
Also Considering: UBSD, UE, UBGC

 

Just to mix things up, here is a time-travel/alternate dimension AU story for your enjoyment. We'll just assume that Gark can now travel through time. Because, frankly, why not?

TAGS to Tim Battershell, Trieste, jcgoble3, Vehn (you'll see why)


The sensation felt weird as hell, Gark thought as he got catapulted into the geyser of a million colors. It felt like he was falling, but could he really fall without gravity? None of this made any sense, he mused as he went through its beams.

Then the beams stopped, and he got kicked out and landed hard on his front side. That was a very odd landing, he thought as he got to his feet and dusted himself off. But as soon as he did this, he knew he felt odd. He felt . . . younger. He looked down at his hands, but couldn’t tell that anything was wrong. All he knew was that he didn’t feel tired like he always did, with the kids constantly keeping him up.

Where were the kids? Where was Me’lin? And, consequently, where was here? He looked around; he was in some sort of back alley, the kind you found on Coruscant in the rougher sections of town. He knew this atmosphere well; he had grown up in the tenements of the never-ending city. But this didn’t seem right. No, this seemed different. He had no idea where he was, but then the rotting stench of garbage came to his nostrils.

He knew that stink anywhere. Welcome to Nar Shaddaa, he told himself.

Then he had to ask himself why he was here. Somehow the thing that had sucked him out of his home had put him here, but why? There was no such thing as transporter technology; that was just a fantasy on the Holo. No, he was really here, but how?

He cautiously walked out to the curb, and then could hear a loud honking behind him. He turned around to see a speeder whiz by him, just barely missing him. “Ha ha, loser!” yelled the driver, and Gark got himself up off the ground after hitting the deck to avoid being nailed. That had been too close.

He then tried to orient himself. He had never been in the Boroughs of the planet; they said it was extremely dangerous. Kaitlyn Vehn had worked to clean these parts out, and look where it got her, dead. He wondered how her legacy was affecting the Vertical City, how what she had done, which had earned so much attention galaxy-wide, was working out.

As Gark wandered the streets, he realized why the place was so dangerous. Several beings walked by holding blasters like they were nothing special, just wielding them with no thought otherwise. That was rather unsettling, even though Gark knew he could fight. Or could he? When he was alone, he tried to bust out a move or two from his fighting style. Yes, he could still fight. It looked like he might need to after all was said and done.

As he continued to wander, he looked at all the ramshackle buildings that lined his path. This place definitely needed its Smugglers, because they were dirt poor otherwise and had little, if anything, to live on. Finally he came across an open door, and some sounds came from inside. The whole time, he had been wondering where everyone was. Well, this likely had something to do with it.

“Smugglers with the ball! They’re taking it on the goal, the Senator defense is scrambling to get back. And there’s Thrace with the ball! She jukes the defender . . . oh, look at that move! She totally destroyed that defender! And she shoots . . . she scores!” The crowd on the Holo broadcast roared, as did the persons inside the room. Gark stayed outside to hear what was going on. Geez, wherever he was, whenever he was in time, his team still sucked. But Thrace . . . that was a name he wasn’t too familiar with. She had been a Smuggler, but that had been at the beginning of his tenure. Where was he really?

He kept moving, and finally came upon a discarded calendar. It confirmed his suspicions. 260 it said. That meant he wasn’t even the GM of the Senators yet. He didn’t take over until 262. So what was he doing here?

He kept on going, taking several hours to wander around. The stench of garbage was literally everywhere; he couldn’t take it any longer. He had to find a place to crash for the day until he could figure out how to get home. And that started with some sleep. So he kept going, trying to find a place to stay for a while. This led him to the gates of what looked like a college campus. The sign read “Vertical City University”. Oh great, now I need to crash at a college in the middle of a trash dump moon. Great he thought as he went onto the campus.

By this time, students were milling around all over the place, and Gark wandered around. Then he felt something wet hit the back of his head, and he turned around to see a Duro and a Devaronian chuckling at him. “Hey, loser, you better watch where you’re walking!” the Duro said in broken Basic, and the Devaronian laughed.

“I’m sorry?” Gark asked. The two just laughed.

“Yeah, I’m sure you do, golden boy” the Duro said. “Let’s fix him good like other players won’t.”

Gark had no idea what he had done, but the two tried to corner him near a statue. A few students stopped to watch, but most of them kept going. This was obviously a usual occurrence. Gark put up his hands to protect himself.

“Ha, you see that? He’s trying to protect himself! How cute!” the Devaronian said, cackling all the way.

When the Duro came closer, he threw a punch. But Gark beat him to it, and he threw the kid down. He then socked the Devaronian in the stomach several times before whacking the kid in the face to down him. The Duro tried to get up, but Gark then executed a pin on the ground to keep the tormenter down.

A small crowd began to form around the three. Gark, realizing that he didn’t want to attract attention, so he let the Duro go.

The tormenters ran away, and Gark was left alone as he looked down at his hands. He had certainly done a number on those two. Then he heard clapping behind him. “I knew you had it in you, Gark,” came a voice. Gark turned around to see a brunette girl of roughly 21 years of age. She had a very muscular frame for her height, which was about the same as his. She seemed familiar . . .

“Meredith Chambers?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah, we’ve gone over this, Gark. We’re on the same team and everything, have been for three years plus this one,” the woman said. “Don’t act like you have amnesia.”

“Um . . . OK. Sorry,” Gark said, rubbing the back of his head. What in the hell was he doing here? And could this really be Meredith? She was married to Polis Vayne back in the real galaxy, but here she was, young, beautiful, and she seemed to know him. What the hell was going on here? “Guess I got carried away.”

“That’s for sure,” Meredith said. “Come on, coach wants us in study hall in ten minutes.”

“All right, fine,” Gark said. “Do you remember where it is?”

“Really?”

“Really,” Gark said. “If you haven’t noticed, I just got attacked by two guys out for my head.”

“Those guys are more hot air than anything else. You know that. But oh, you’re playing coy with me again.”

“Not trying to,” Gark said. Now he was more confused.

“Look, study hall got moved last week for that one time, but its back in Kramer Hall, OK?” Meredith said. “Usual place.”

“If it was up to me, I’d do it in the cafeteria,” Gark joked.

“I know. You’ve said that before,” Meredith said. “I’ll see you there. Got some tough work this week.” She walked away, leaving Gark in his bewilderment. This was getting downright strange.

He went to Kramer Hall, and finally found the Vertical City University Limmie team at work there. “S’rily, why are you not holding any work?” the man he assumed was the coach asked sternly.

“Um . . . I left it . . .”

“Go get it. You’re a good student, so I’ll give you a pass for this once,” the coach said. “Just don’t want to let it become a habit.”

“Got it, coach,” Gark said. He left the room and walked back onto campus. Then he stuck his hands in his pockets, completely clueless. But his fingers hit something hard. He pulled out a set of keys, one of them with a room number on it. You have to be kidding me Gark thought to himself before going to the place where the key indicated. It took him to a spiffy-looking apartment complex, or spiffy by Nar Shaddaa standards. He went up two flights of stairs and then got to the room printed on the key. He put the key into the lock, and it opened.

He was quickly assaulted by the sounds of sex inside the room. He could tell that two beings were in the far bed under the covers. Then a boy’s head poked out. “Gark! You’re back early! I thought you had study hall!”

“I do, genius. Just forgot my homework,” Gark said. He looked around the room, but couldn’t see any homework. If he didn’t even know he was a student here, how would he know what his homework looked like?

“Could you make it quick? I’ve got a good thing going here,” the boy said.

“All right, all right, I’ll leave you alone,” Gark said. He then squinted to see a name on a placard on the nearby desk, “Camden.”

“Yeah, OK.”

“Cam!” came the voice of a woman under the sheets with this Camden.

Gark located some things that looked like homework off the desk which had his name on it and left the room. “You can go back to your business. Just make sure the room doesn’t smell like crap when I get back, OK?”

“Fine,” Camden said. Gark rolled his eyes and left the room, after which his roommate continued with his sexual adventure.

Gark returned to Kramer Hall with homework in hand. He looked for a place to sit, but all the places were full with other athletes. The only place open was next to Meredith, who had her head down. So he went and sat by her. She looked up momentarily. “You’re slipping.”

“I know. Bad day,” Gark said.

“How bad is bad?”

“Need I explain?” Gark asked, completely confused.

“No, I’m good,” Meredith said. “By the way, did you get problem 15 done yet on that Finance homework?”

“Um . . .” Gark said. He looked down on the page. He read the question; it was easy. For some odd reason, he still had his brain and everything he knew, just he felt younger and was apparently attending VCU. “Well, I can’t give you the answer . . .”

“Then what do I need to do to find it?” Meredith asked.

“Can I see the book?” Gark asked. Meredith handed him a datapad, and Gark went through its contents. Sure enough, there was a figure he was looking for. “This one,” he said, handing it back to the brunette.

“That one? I thought that one was worthless . . .”

“It’s right there,” Gark offered. “Somewhere in there is what you seek.”

“Is that some kind of prophecy?”

“No, just logic.”

“Well, you seem good with that.”

“So . . .”

“S’rily! Chambers! Keep your traps shut, its study hall!” the Coach bellowed.

“We’ll talk later,” Meredith said before she went back to her work. Gark turned to his, and he finished it easily. He had all his knowledge from undergrad, so he was in good shape despite being out of college for two and a half decades in the real galaxy. He looked over to Meredith, who seemed to be struggling with the work. He felt bad for her, but he wasn’t sure what he could do for her. Why was he here? Obviously there was some reason he was on Nar Shaddaa, so why the year 260?

When study hall ended, Gark went back to his dorm room. On the way, Meredith caught up to him. “Look, I’m sorry about all the amnesia stuff. I know you’ve had a rough day.”

“I have?” Gark asked. “Or . . . yeah, I have. Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I don’t know, I can imagine a lot,” Meredith commented.

“Trust me, it’s been a rough day.”

“Hey, we’ve got practice tomorrow, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Meredith said. “That always helps me.”

The two of them went into the dorm hall, and Meredith got off at the second floor of the stairs. “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow,” she said.

“Yeah,” Gark replied. He went up to the third floor and then went into his room. Camden was there, but was out of bed.

“How’d it go?” the boy asked.

“Same as usual. Work.”

“I had a different kind of work,” Camden said, a wry grin on his face. “More satisfying, though.”

“It’s little wonder you’re such a playboy,” Gark said snidely.

“I know we’ve been over this, but I prefer to say I’m living the college dream. Speaking of that, I saw you and Chambers coming up to the hall from the window. Seriously, dude, you’ve known her for this long yet haven’t asked her out yet.”

“It’s not that easy . . . Cam,” Gark said, trying to shorten the boy’s name a little bit to sound more in the know, which he certainly wasn’t. “She’s a tough nut to crack.”

“Oh come on, you’re a college kid, and you know her real well. I mean, you’re the corner back, for Maker’s sake! You’re her right-hand man!”

“I am?” Gark asked. That was a new one. “I mean . . . I thought I was just one piece of the puzzle . . .”

“Stop being modest and just ask her out. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind too badly,” Cam commented.

“Easier said than done,” Gark replied. He tossed his homework down on the bed and then flopped on it himself. It was at this point that he noticed he was wearing a letterman’s jacket for VCU. Where that had come from, he had no idea.

“Look, just ask Chambers out, and I’ll pay you ten credits. But if you don’t, then you owe me ten, all right?”

“A bet? Seems certain that I’ll lose,” Gark commented.

“Look, dude, do you want to be a senile old man without any sense of humor or excitement before graduating? I mean, we’re graduating this year. It’s our last year of college. I’m not going pro in lightball, but you know, I have dreams. And I want to live it up now while I can.”

“Doesn’t work that easily for me. Parents want me to succeed.”

“What parents?” Cam asked. “We both know they were killed ten years ago.”

A lump formed itself in Gark’s throat. So even here he had no parents. That sucked. “Um . . . I mean, they would’ve wanted me to succeed. I’ve had a hard day, man.”

“Sounds like it,” Cam said. “Look, just get some sleep, and then go to practice tomorrow. You’ll be fine. But ask Chambers out when you do.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You want to be a loser?”

“No . . .”

“Then ask her out. You aren’t losing anything by trying.”

Gark kept this in mind. When he woke up the next day, he checked the convenient schedule on the wall and then went to class. It was boring as hell, but he got through it. Then he went to practice. For two solid hours they worked out, doing drills and then running plays. Gark didn’t know most of them, so he made things up as he went along. Coach asked him what he was doing, and Gark said he felt a little out of shape. “Get back in shape, or you’re not starting this week,” Coach said.

After that, Gark followed the playbook and did his part. He had coached Elite League ball for quite some time, so he knew this stuff. He kept Meredith upright in goal against the opposing scorers, and for the first time in his life he felt like he was spry enough to play Limmie with college kids. He felt surprisingly good given that he had no idea what dimension this was that he was in.

After practice, Gark knew he had to ask a question. Meredith was keeping to herself as she messed with her gloves, and Gark came up. “Um, Meredith . . . I have a question for you . . .”

“Is this about class? I admit, I didn’t understand Table 13.12 either,” Meredith said, not even looking up as she un-taped her gloves.

“No, it’s not that. I wanted to know if . . . if . . . um . . . you and I could . . . you know . . . go out sometime.”

Meredith then looked up at Gark. It was like he had said a bad word or something. “I don’t know,” she said. “Do you really want this, or did Camden put you up to it?”

“Ten credits said I’d ask. But I do mean it,” Gark said, trying to save his skin.

“Well, I know it’s a little weird, being that you’re a Bothan and all, but I don’t think it would hurt,” Meredith said. She got her gloves off and tossed them into a worn duffel bag. “After all, it’s college, and we’re pretty good buddies, or at least teammates.”

“So it’s a date, then?” Gark asked.

“Eh, sure, why not?” Meredith said. “I mean, just as friends and all that. No major commitments.”

“No, of course not,” Gark said warily. All of a sudden, things in his mind began to blur a little bit. Me’lin was beginning to slip from his mind; instead, thoughts of being with Meredith Chambers started to fill his head. Everything else felt right, but his actual marriage in the real galaxy went out the window. Here he was, a hormonal college student, asking out a teammate. It was bizarre, to say the least.

“Go to Gigi’s sandwich shop at 2000 sharp tonight, don’t be late,” Meredith said.

“Should I dress casual?”

“Dress in whatever you don’t want to get messy,” Meredith said. “Sandwich condiments and all.”

“Right,” Gark said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Whatever universe this was, he now had a date with a young Meredith Chambers. That wasn’t so bad after all.

 

Awesome. My first thought upon reading this was "is this some kind of Quantum Leap parody/ripoff?" But that doesn't make complete sense since Gark isn't appearing as someone else.

 

Their date better include hoverboards given the vibe I get from this.

 

Back to Nar Shaddaa!

 

Part Two

TAGS to Trieste, Tim Battershell, Vehn, jcgoble3

Gark took another bite of the sandwich in front of him and tried to study Meredith’s face a bit. She didn’t seem concerned with anything, which didn’t seem like how he knew her in the real galaxy. It was that kind of nonchalant attitude that made her veins run full of ice water in goal during her career, and if he really was seeing a college version of her, then she already had all the tools she would need to be a star someday. If the timeline didn’t get messed up here, then she would become a household name by the next year. Gunba Pemiti, who had easily saved the game against the Senators the day prior, would have her fateful injury the next year, and the rest they said was history.

“You know, I never thought you’d build up the nerve to ask me out,” Meredith said, taking a drink from her soda. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“Let’s say that I’ve just been too nervous until now.”

“It helps that you’re paying for the meal,” Meredith commented.

“Fine. But it was time,” Gark said. “Time I asked, I mean.”

“I don’t see how you can be so jittery off the field and yet be such a dominant corner back when you want to be,” Meredith said. “I would think you’d have those same instincts in your everyday life.”

“Can’t keep up that intensity all the time,” Gark said with a shrug. “If I did, I’d burn out really easily.”

Meredith just chuckled. “At least you can’t keep it up. I certainly try to maintain my effectiveness. Want to go pro someday, and I’ll need that kind of go-get-‘em attitude at that level. Have to strip myself of weaknesses now while I have the chance.”

“I admit that I can’t do that,” Gark said, taking another bite of the sandwich. “I guess I’m just not as good as you, Meredith. Not nearly as good.”

“Oh come on, this is a date, and you’re talking yourself down. Geez, you really are hard up for social stuff,” Meredith said. “Look,” she continued, leaning forwards. “I want to thank you for asking me out, and for paying for the meal. I appreciate it. I knew you had the guts in you to ask someone out, I just didn’t think it’d be me.”

“Sometimes it’s the right time to live dangerously,” Gark commented. “Or at least stretch my horizons. I’m a Limmie player, and yet I can’t even ask a pretty girl out. That’s pretty sad. So I had to change it.”

“Sounds like Cam helped out.”

“A bit. Like I said, ten credits were riding on me asking.”

“I think something like this more than just petty credit material, even though we all need the cash,” Meredith said. “I mean, we’re all dirt poor athletes, so we have to scrounge around somehow to get enough money to buy food and the like. I’m getting sick of cafeteria food, so this is a real treat. Using your winnings?”

“Probably,” Gark replied. Then he had something else to say. “Look, Meredith, I’m sorry if I’ve been distant ever since we met. I had a rough upbringing.”

“We all have,” she replied, putting down her sandwich. “It’s why we’re all here now, and why a lot of our peers are either in jail or dead by now. We were the lucky ones. My father brought me here when he split from my mom, and it’s been a rough life. We never speak to each other, and I don’t know if that’s more rage at him, or rage at myself for being like this.”

“But you’ve got Limmie.”

“I guess so. But sometimes it’s hard to realize that you don’t have your parents to help support you. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Gark said. Apparently his parents in this universe had died a decade earlier, so he had that card to play.

“So we’ve both got our sob stories, but we need to power through them. It’s like Coach always says, try to get out there and win everything you do. I’ve taken that to heart, and it’s about time you realize it too. I think this is a good first step in that direction.” She finished her sandwich and soda. “Thanks again for the food. I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Gark said. He finished his meal, and they left the sandwich shop. “Now what?”

“I don’t know. Gotta finish off this season, and then who knows where we’ll be after that,” Meredith said, her eyes misted over a little bit as she stared off into the distance. “You know that the Smugglers are looking at local kids to fill their roster. They’ll probably drop by at some point for tryouts. I’m going to try out, and I think you should too.”

“Make the Smugglers? Me? No, there’s no way,” Gark said.

“Oh come on, give it a try. You never know, another scout might find you at Pro Day. We’ve got enough athletes on this sad garbage dump to at least get beings to pay attention. Maybe a Premier League team will come by and offer you a contract?”

“Who knows? All I know is that it’s going to be a long rest of the year.”

The two of them walked back to the residence hall, and Meredith got off at her floor. “Thanks again,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

“It’s just that . . . no guy has ever had the guts to ask me out before.”

“Really?” Gark asked.

“It’s not one of my finer traits, I must admit,” Meredith admitted. “But it’s sadly true. So I want to thank you for getting the courage. I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Gark said. But he wasn’t prepared for what was next.

Meredith Chambers kissed him. It was more like a light peck than anything else, but it tickled him to the core. He liked that feeling of euphoria.

“See you tomorrow,” she said before walking down the hallway. Gark, feeling warm and fuzzy inside, walked back to his dorm room.

“How’d it go?” Camden asked as Gark started working on his remaining homework.

“Pretty well. Got some food, talked. You know, typical first date.”

“It go well?”

“Probably. I don’t really know.”

“You lucky dog,” Camden said. “Lucky, lucky, lucky dog.”

Gark shrugged and kept working on his homework. When he got ready for bed that night, he went into the refresher to brush his teeth. But he noticed some weird contraption on the sink counter, and he reached down to move it. He had never seen it before.

His fingers hit the device, and it seemed that it had some great power inside it. Gark cautiously hit the button on there, and then the thing began to whir. The same weird light show that had taken him the first time picked him up and shot him out of that realm, kicking and screaming. Where he was going now, he had no idea.

---

Gark found himself standing at a sink when the light burst faded from around him, and for a moment he wondered why the device, whatever it was, had brought him back to the present. Then he realized that he wasn’t in the present. He was still standing at a sink, yes, but it was a much nicer sink. The counter was made of marble, and as he looked around the bathroom, he could see many fancy features such as a walk-in shower, nice-looking tile floor, and the softest looking towels he had ever seen in his life. They had a purple ‘GS’ embedded in them on the edge in frilly font, like they were custom-made for him.

As he stared in the mirror, he realized that he had changed. He was older, almost a decade older, from the looks of it, and instead of wearing the jacket he had been moments before, now he was wearing clothes more suitable for a stylish gentleman. He didn’t like these kinds of duds, but there was nothing he could do about it. As far as he knew, he didn’t have any other clothes to wear.

The water was running in the sink, so he turned it off using the pearled handles. Now there was nothing but silence in the room, and he tried to hear if there was anything outside. But he couldn’t hear anything. So he went to the door and cautiously opened it.

The door creaked open, and he stuck his head out into the room. It was a little bit cooler inside the new room, but not too bad. It was comfortable enough, so he turned off the refresher light and stepped out into the dark new room. As he went, he felt his foot ram into something hard, and he stifled a yell of pain. At closer glance, he had run his foot into a bed. But it wasn’t just any bed, it was a master bedroom; a very nice master bedroom. It was easily nicer than the one he and Me’lin shared at home, but most memories of her had faded, or at least were being repressed. His brain space was taken up with the question of where he was, and why he was here.

He got to the door out of it, and opened that. Quietly he closed the door behind him and then looked around. He was astonished to find himself in a very luxurious hallway, complete with satin rug that stretched all the way down the hallway in both directions. He cautiously went to the nearby stairs, and then found that they spiraled down to what he figured was the ground floor.

When he got to the bottom, he found that he was surrounded by white walls everywhere. Everything was nice, with Holo images all over the place, and furniture that was better than the ones in his real life. The place looked like the manor of a legend, which he knew he was in a different dimension, but not here. Where was here, exactly?

Cautiously, he went over to an end table and picked up a remote. It looked like a Holo remote, and he pressed the power button. Instantly a Holo screen popped out from the wall and turned on. It was a larger home Holo screen than he had ever seen before in his life, and he was astounded by its sheer size and clarity. Could this be the future?

“There you are. Trying to play hide and seek with me or something?” came a familiar voice. Gark wheeled around to see Meredith Chambers there behind him. She had definitely aged some, but still looked like she was in her late twenties or early thirties, about the age in which she retired from the game in the real dimension. She had extremely curly hair that went down past her shoulders, and was wearing a green bathrobe and burgundy slippers.

“Not at all. I just . . . um . . .” Gark said, unsure of what he could say in this instance.

“It’s OK, I was just kidding,” Meredith said. She came up to Gark and kissed him passionately on the lips. “You know me, I’m just a kidder.”

“Of course,” Gark said. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Of course, he still had no idea what was going on here. Where was he?

“That’s exactly what I like to hear from you,” Meredith said sweetly. “Because you’re my big strong Galactic Cup champion.”

“Excuse me?” Gark asked, bewildered.

“Playing coy with me, I like that,” Meredith said, kissing Gark again. The Bothan didn’t say anything; he just noticed the shiny diamond ring on Meredith’s finger as it gleamed in the light. Then he looked down at his own hand, and the wedding band that was on there. Well, that certainly made things a bit more obvious. But then the truth of then situation came to his mind. He was married to Meredith Chambers? Given the other timeline he had just been in minutes before, when he was on a date with her, this was getting weird. So they had worked out after all. Go figure, he thought to himself.

Then he heard the sounds of yelling, and two small beings came into the room. One was definitely a half-Bothan, the other human-like .

“Daddy!” they yelled.

“Um . . .” was all Gark was able to utter before finding himself knocked down by the two kids. He hit the floor hard, and was quickly attacked by the children.

“OK, kids, leave your father alone,” Meredith said.

“Aw, do we have to?” asked the half-Bothan boy.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Meredith said. “Let him go.”

“OK,” the boy said, disheartened. Gark was able to sit up now and look at the two kids. So in this universe he was not only married to Meredith Chambers, but he had two children with her? Somehow, despite the randomness that had set in, that didn’t sound all bad.

“Don’t you have something else to do today, like homework?” Meredith chided the children.

“Aw, come on, Mom, it’s summer break! We don’t want to think of school!” the boy, who looked about eight or nine years of age, said.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna do math!” the girl said, herself about six or seven years of age.

“The only math you need to worry about right now is how many days you have left before you go back to school,” Meredith warned.

“But mom!” the kids said.

“No buts, just a fact,” the woman said sternly. “Besides, we have training camp soon. That should be enough for both of you.”

“But I don’t like that place! It smells like poop!” the girl said in her high-pitched voice and pouting attitude.

“Nar Shaddaa is messy, yes, but it’s my home,” Meredith said. “And our team plays there, so you need to deal with it.”

“Hey Dad, you gonna win the Cup this year?” the boy asked eagerly.

“I’ll . . . I’ll try to,” Gark said. He had no idea what was going on.

“Oh come off it, we both know we’ll win this year. No other team can compare,” Meredith said, crossing her arms. “Not with me having your back.”

“Right,” Gark said. So he was a Limmie player . . . for the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers? That just felt wrong on many levels for him. And Meredith was on his team? Now he needed to know more.

“Can you excuse me for a second?” he asked. He left the room, and stumbled to a nearby hallway. He had to take several deep breaths and try to figure all this out. What in the hell was going on? How could this kind of dream life be coming true? It felt good, but it was also weirding him out a little bit.

Then he found the trophy room. He flipped the lights on, and all of a sudden the small room came to life. In a trophy case sat two Galactic Cup replicas, both of them engraved with the Nar Shaddaa Smuggler name and logo on them. At closer glance, Gark could see his name engraved on the chalices, and on one of them Meredith as well. One was from 264, the other one from 270. In the real galaxy, Nar Shaddaa had won a Cup in 270 . . . could this possibly be true in this universe as well? Moving further down the row, Gark found a Vertical City University jersey in the case with his name on it, then one with Meredith’s on it, and finally their uniforms with the Smugglers with the championship patches on them. Here was a burgundy and black uniform, the older kind, with his name on it. That was weird.

Then he noticed the Salbukk Award in the case with his name engraved proudly on it. 268, it read. That was the Senator Championship year where he came from, but it looked like he, a corner back from the looks of it, had won that Award. It was amazing to have won a Salbukk as a defensive back, and he had obviously done it. Sitting next to it was Meredith’s Numifolis Award from 270, her Ingbrand Award, and his Ingbrand Award. The year on it was 262, the year after Meredith made her debut. That was also another Senator title year.

Gark returned to the living room feeling a little more at ease with what he was doing. Meredith and the children sat watching the Holo, and the woman looked up at him as he approached. “All good?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Gark said. “Just having an off day.”

“We all do,” Meredith said. “But we make do. Speaking of that, I probably should get dressed. We are due at the restaurant in little under an hour. Don’t want to be late.”

Gark spent most of the next hour exploring the home. It was an expansive place, and he felt a bit jealous about the small size of his real home after seeing this absolute mansion. If he didn’t want to live on Coruscant, or have to, he could easily go here and build something like this, for someone . . . someone he had to remember . . .nah, that wasn’t important.

After that hour, Gark and his family went to a very glitzy restaurant. They were living on Naboo, which was a very idyllic planet that Gark had never before visited . . . or had he . . . either way, it was nice and peaceful. They went into the restaurant and ate gourmet food, the staff seemingly knowing them and waiting on them hand and foot.

Finally, Gark had to ask a question. “So . . . about this year . . . you really think we have a shot?”

“Of course I do,” Meredith said, taking a napkin and wiping her mouth off. “You’ve won two titles already, one with me, and we’ll be fine. You’re captain, remember? You of all people should be the one singing your team’s praises.”

“I thought the point was to not attract attention,” Gark rebutted.

“Silly you and trying to be proper. No, you need that attention. It helps the team flow,” Meredith said. “You weren’t strong-willed like this when you were a rookie. I remember, you took a year in the Premier League to improve your skills, and then boom, you’re in the real league. And I was behind you all the way, but of course since I decided to have children at that point I couldn’t start my career until later. Not saying it was a bad idea, but I was jealous when you won that title in ’64 while I was sitting in the front row of Solo Stadium eight months’ pregnant. I wanted to be out there, and then in ’65 I won the Ingbrand. Go figure.”

“So you’re saying I do have that leadership talent in me, or are you just jesting?”

“Of course you do. Otherwise we wouldn’t have voted you captain three years ago.”

“I’m surprised you did. I didn’t seem like the type . . .”

“Look, I married you because you were the right fit, I had your children, moved to Naboo with you to raise them, and helped vote you captain because that was the right thing to do. If I think you can win the Cup this year as captain, then we can win this year. No doubt about it.”

“That makes me feel a lot better, you know,” Gark said, nodding.

“I know. I should be a philanthropist, because I make everyone around me better. Must be my leadership skills coming to the fore. I’m assistant captain for a reason.”

“Damn right,” Gark muttered to himself as he kept eating.

When the meal ended and the family left the restaurant, they stopped to watch the sun set for ten minutes over the rolling hills out in the distance. It was a beautiful display of colors in the sky, making their presence known as they faded into blackness. As night crept closer, they returned to the speeder and headed home.

The really difficult part was getting the kids to go to bed when the time came. He didn’t know anything about how to talk to them, since he didn’t know them at all. Here he had children he didn’t know what to do with. He didn’t remember conceiving them, nor their earliest years, nor anything that happened the prior day before he randomly arrived in the refresher that afternoon through the light vortex. So he had to improvise to get them to fall asleep. The girl was the tougher one to get to close her eyes and try to sleep; she seemed like a Meredith clone, rambunctious and full of energy. The boy seemed similar, but a little bit more laid back. Yet they were still a handful, and when they finally nodded off Gark wiped his brow. That had taken a while.

When he went downstairs, he found Meredith sitting in her fancy black dress on the sofa. She motioned for him to come closer, and when he sat down she draped her arms over him. “And now we’re alone,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, in a nice quiet house,” Gark replied.

Meredith leaned in and kissed Gark lightly on the cheek, or what constituted a cheek for a being of his species. “Our quiet house,” she said. “We had it made, we bought it, we live in it, and we love in it.”

“Quite a place we have, don’t you think?” Gark asked wistfully.

“Yes, it’s a nice place,” Meredith commented. She let her head rest on Gark’s shoulder, and they just sat there for a while before turning in for the night. As Gark turned off the light on the end table and settled into bed, he realized that this wasn’t such a bad life.

 

Very interesting AU you've got here.

 

Bizarro Gark fell to the dark side of the Smugglers Moon. I'll come up with some more metaphors to mix later. Wasn't sure where he was going after the jump in the bathroom! Didn't expect that's where he'd wind up!

 

Sorry to put up two posts in one day, but this one stays with my regular timeline.

Tim Battershell, Trieste, jcgoble3


Mykal sat through yet another in-home recruiting pitch. He liked what he was hearing from Taanab A&M; they had a good solid program with name credit in the SEC. That’s the kind of thing he really liked. They would definitely be in the running if this impressed him enough.

“What can you offer my family if they want to go to games?” Mykal asked.

“Well, Mike, we can offer quite a bit. Your brother’s a big Limmie fan, is he not?”

“Yeah, big one.”

“How would he like to lead to team out onto the field for a game?”

“No way. He’d love that.”

“Sideline passes for a home game every year?” the coach threw in.

“Yeah, that’d be nice for him.”

“So, Mike, we have a need for a full back next year. It will probably be as a reserve, but I can guarantee playing time next year. May not be a ton, but it will be a chance to play as a freshman.”

“I’d like to play, Coach.”

“I figured you would. You’re a natural talent, Mike. What you need is an experienced player to help guide you through the college game. We’ve got a solid senior this year there, one you might be able to beat in an open competition in camp, but one you can definitely learn from.”

“Coach, I’m definitely interested. But I can’t decide yet.”

“That’s fine. We’ll be waiting with baited breath to see where you go, and we hope it’s to Taanab,” the Coach said. He shook Mykal’s hand and left the home soon afterwards.

“So, Mykal, what did you think?” Me’lin asked. She was feeding Cecilia with a bottle as she spoke.

“Seems like a good place to go, but I’m still undecided,” Mykal said. “Why is this process so hard? I don’t want to let all but one school down. They’re all good.”

“That’s the game you play, Mykal. You need to choose one school, one where you know you’ll feel the happiest,” Me’lin said. “Comes with the territory of being a star Limmie recruit.”

“How would you deal with it?” Mykal asked.

“I’d take all my options, and figure out which is more important, playing time next year or school. And we want you to go somewhere where you can get a quality education. Because we’re going to require you to graduate. That’s our deal, Mykal. You go to college, and you graduate. Simple as that.”

“But how do I choose?”

“That is up to you. What do you want most?”

“A chance to make a name for myself, but also make you proud,” Mykal said.

“I’m sure when all of the offers come in, and the time is right, you’ll make the right decision,” Me’lin said. “I know you will.”


“Thanks,” Mykal commented. He certainly hoped the Twi’lek was right.


Mykal’s College Recruitment Tracker:

Biggelow College (Denon)
University of Zeltros
Tanaab A&M University
College of Fondordelphia
University of Corellia, Bella Vistal
University of Tatooine, Anchorhead
University of Dantooine
Balmorra State University
The Ord Sabaok University
National University
Also Considering: UBSD, UE, UBGC

 

TAGS to Tim Battershell, Trieste, Vehn, jcgoble3


There were two weeks to go until training camp started for the Smugglers, and Gark was getting himself ready for it. That meant lots of training he had never done before in his life, and Meredith never made it easy. “You don’t want to be seen as soft,” she chided him constantly. And she had that energy, the same burst that had made her a Hall-of-Famer in the real universe. It was that kind of energy that made her Meredith Chambers. And it was entertaining to watch.

The home had a small weight room and goal out back, where Meredith took hours working with a shooting machine. Gark watched her as she gracefully snagged balls from the air, and punching some of them so hard that they almost nailed the home. When she wasn’t there, she was pumping iron in the weight room or on the stationary bike. Gark wasn’t so sure about where she got that drive, but he didn’t care. As long as they won, all the work was worth it.

Finally Meredith got off her bike and wiped off her face with a towel. “Done for the day?” Gark finally asked.

“Not by a long shot. Still have all of the core work to get to,” Meredith said.

“I still don’t understand how you can get all this done in a day,” Gark said, shaking his head.

“I want to be the very best. And that means putting in all the time and effort. I’ll get there if I work hard enough. We want that title, don’t we?”

“Of course. I just don’t have that same kind of manic drive that you do.”

“Hey, it’s me,” Meredith said. She took a water bottle and drained it almost instantly.

Later that night, Gark received a call from HSN. They wanted to bring him to Coruscant for a photo shoot for the upcoming season, and to get an interview in with him as the Smuggler captain. His heart leapt quite a bit when he heard this, because he knew he was really going home. No matter what universe he was in, Coruscant had a special place in his heart. So he packed his things and told Meredith where he was headed.

“Be careful out there. They don’t exactly like us,” she said.

“I know. But I’ll do my best,” Gark said. They had a prolonged smooch before Gark left the home and drove to the starport. He soon was on a shuttle headed to Coruscant.

An hour into the flight, Gark knew he needed something to munch on. He had forgotten to bring many snacks with him, and he knew the stewardesses always came around with something. So he made sure to flag the first one he saw down who could help him.

“Certainly, sir,” the woman said. She returned a little while later with the tray of options. “We have candy, nuts, protein bars . . .”

“I’ll take a protein bar,” Gark said. He handed over the two credits to the woman, who gave him the bar in return.

“Hey, you’re Gark S’rily aren’t you?” the woman asked.

“Um . . .” Gark said. He didn’t want to sound awkward. “Yeah . . . I guess I am . . .”

“Well, I’m a Senators fan, so it’s a bit difficult to like the team you play for, but I’ve always kinda liked you as a player,” the Twi’lek said.

“At least we can transcend boundaries through that,” Gark said, offering a hint of a smile. But there was something not right here. The woman was familiar. He looked a little closer at her, trying to study her face. Then his eyes migrated down to the name patch on her uniform. Me’lin it read. It couldn’t be.

“Lin?” he whispered to himself.

“Yeah, it’s my name,” the woman said, obviously having overheard him.

“It’s a nice name,” Gark said, trying to backtrack. So here was the woman he had made his wife in the real universe, working on a shuttle as a stewardess. She had said that was one of her jobs back before she worked for the Senators, so obviously here she was still doing that job. “Very pretty.”

“Thank you,” Me’lin said. “I can thank my parents for that.”

“They must be very proud,” Gark said.

“They would be if they were alive,” Me’lin said with a sigh.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Gark said quickly, again backtracking. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“You didn’t mean harm by it,” Me’lin offered. “Now, if you can excuse me, I’m probably needed in the back.”

“Wait,” Gark said. “I think you need this more than I do,” he said, handing over a five-credit chip. “A token of my gratitude for excellent service.”

“Thank you,” the Twi’lek said, taking the chip from Gark’s hand. “If you need anything more, please call me over.”

“I will do that,” Gark said. Me’lin disappeared from the first-class part of the shuttle, and Gark sat back in his seat, wondering what that had all been about. Now he had a conflicted mind; a small bit of him hankered for Me’lin again, even though the band on his finger was for Meredith. That could easily create a conflict. He knew he had to get it out of his mind.

When he got to Coruscant, he checked into his hotel room and quickly fell asleep. It hadn’t been a long flight, but it had still tired him out because he wasn’t good with sleeping on shuttles sometimes. Especially when he had met his real-universe wife on the trip.

The next day was filled with photo shoots and the interview. Gark got his uniform and prosed for the cameras with a bolo-ball in his hands, trying to mangle it in one shot, and holding it out with a stern look on his face for others. After two solid hours, he was allowed to go back to his hotel room. The rest of the trip was spent taking it easy, and by the time he had landed back on Naboo, his mind had cleared. He wanted to be with Meredith, and that was that.

When he got home, it was around 2230, and the kids most likely were in bed. He entered the home and set his bags down, feeling tired. It didn't take long for him to go to bed and sleep; he needed it.

 

My goodness.....

 

Wow. Will the twists ever end?

 

Here's a regular timeline story segment.

TAGS to Tim Battershell, Trieste, jcgoble3, and Vehn again for Meredith mentions


“You have no idea how nice it is not to have to worry about handling team matters,” Gark said, flipping a nerf burger over on the grill. “It’s freedom that I haven’t had in years.”

“So you dumped it all on me,” Polis said jokingly. It was a get-together for their two families plus Dirxx’s, the three clans just having lunch together for the hell of it. That meant three married couples, seven children, and three more still hanging out in their mothers’ stomachs. Space seemed a little bit at a premium, with the children yelling and playing tag, while Mykal stood by and watched. He was too old to be playing with them, since he could easily crush them without trying, and that would be frowned upon.

“You didn’t ask if taking on those pressures was part of the job description,” Gark said, flipping another burger. “Besides, I really think it’ll grow on you.”

“Probably not enough for me to want to take it over for good,” Polis warned. “I’m not really interested in being the permanent owner of the team.”

“Nah, at some point I’ll get bored of my freedom and want control back. After all, I’ll only have two really young children to deal with, plus a sparkplug son who will want time . . .” Gark said, his voice trailing off. He knew he would need this time off, because once Me’lin gave birth, he would find himself busier with three children to take care of.

“Oh, I know the feeling,” Polis said. “And my problem will be that Meredith won’t even be on the world. She’ll be half the galaxy away, and I’ll have to deal with three kids . . .”

“Hey, you didn’t have to try for another,” Gark offered.

“Nah, Meredith insisted,” Polis replied. “And what she wants, she gets. I’ve learned not to argue with her on those matters. She’s the one who has to deal with it the most, so I just let her have her way.”

“Same here with Lin,” Gark said. “We made a deal, and she got knocked up . . . just how things worked out, it seems.”

“I guess we’re either both lucky that we have strong wives who are willing to do this for us, or they’re controlling us and we just don’t care,” Polis commented.

“Hey, I don’t mind,” Gark said. “As long as they shower us with love and affection, it’s all good in my book.”

“Hey, you two gents see the food?” Dirxx asked, ambling over. He had a plate in hand. “Some of us are getting hungry.”

“Give it five more minutes, you glutton,” Gark said, closing the lid on the grill. “You’ll just have to wait.”

“But you know how I hate waiting. It’s not my strong suit.”

“You think ours ever was?” Polis interjected sarcastically.

“Hey, it’s not just me. The ladies insisted, honest,” Dirxx said sheepishly.

“I think you’re just making that up,” Polis said.

“Get the food on!” Meredith yelled from the backyard.

“Guess we’ll take it my way,” Dirxx said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Gluttons, the lot of you,” Gark muttered as he put his head down and continued to work on the grilling.

Meanwhile, the women were sitting in lawn chairs that face each other. Meredith was wearing a blue summer dress, Me’lin a green one, and Re’lia Horstse a tank top and shorts. All three of them sported bulging bellies. Meredith was two months more pregnant than Me’lin, and about two weeks more than that on Re’lia. At this point, the Smuggler coach had about six and a half to seven months in on her new child. “I was even asked to be a maternity model last week, and of course I accepted the gig,” Meredith crowed to the other two women. “Always wanting to cash in on my natural beauty. They never miss a beat.”

“So does that explain the scantily clad pic of you and Polis that surfaced a few weeks ago?” Me’lin cracked.

“Hey now, that was a work of art,” Meredith said.

“Ego stroking,” Re’lia said, damning Meredith to this judgment.

“It was supposed to be shocking; the Holozine wanted it to be that way, so we shot it like that,” Meredith defender herself. “They wanted to show off my belly, so I showed it off, skin and all. Besides, I don’t see either of you complaining that Polis was half-naked himself . . . I mean, he was only wearing pants . . .”

“Hey, if I could see my husband in a Holozine pic with his shirt off, I wouldn’t mind,” Me’lin said, smiling again. “Now that would be a work of art.”

“If you like hairy chests,” Meredith jabbed.

“Don’t even go there,” Me’lin warned her friend. Gark was Bothan, yes, but he was hers, and she would defend him to the end.

“You two are ridiculous,” Re’lia said, laughing. “I know for a fact that seeing our husbands with their shirts off in a Holozine would make us swoon. They do even when fully clothed . . . or not at all.” She said this last part in jest.

“Whatever the case, I know we’re in for a whole new bunch of opportunities,” Me’lin said. She rubbed her belly as she spoke, about five months’ pregnant. It was weird to be carrying her third baby, considering that Galin had been an accident in the first place, and for the longest time she had no hankering for a second baby. But then Cecilia had been born, and the urge to get pregnant one more time came to the fore . . . and she was happy to be here in this position.

“This one’s going to be a Limmie player, I can just feel it,” Meredith said, stroking her own stomach. “Even has a golden foot every time she kicks.”

“Galin had that too before he was born,” Me’lin offered. “Maybe we’re birthing the next generation of Limmie stars, who knows?”

“I bet we are,” Meredith agreed. “I wonder what she’s going to play someday. Maybe the solid foot of a half back, or maybe a corner back . . .?

“Mine’ll be a forward,” Me’lin countered. “I don’t think Gark expects this child to be a player, but if they are, I think they’ll do well.”

“I just hope to have a happy and healthy baby,” Re’lia said. “After all, the kids don’t have Dirxx’s DNA, so they can’t get his talent.”

“Sometimes it’s the right atmosphere to grow up in to aspire to greatness,” Me’lin said. “It’s like how Galin probably sees Gark and I. We’re not athletes, but he’ll get that work ethic he needs to succeed. And then he can do whatever he wants.”

“So, you know what you’re going to call yours?” Re’lia asked Meredith.

“I don’t know yet. Polis and I are still figuring it out. We know it’s a girl, though,” Meredith said. “As a Hapan, I’m happy.”

“What about you, sis?”

“I don’t know the gender yet,” Me’lin said softly. “Gark and I thought we would wait and see. But we’ll have a name for either gender ready for when I give birth.”

“Well, I’m having a boy,” Re’lia said proudly. “Our first son. Dirxx is ecstatic that he’s going to have a son.”

“What will you name him?”

“I was thinking Dane, after his father’s father, or at least somewhat like that.”

“Would Dirxx take that well?”

“I don’t know. He’s generally pretty agreeable,” Re’lia said, shrugging.

Then Polis came over with three plates. “Lunch is on!” he announced. He then handed out the three plates to the women. “Condiments are available upon request,” he said, winking at Meredith.

“What’ll it cost me, I wonder, to request them?” she asked, a sly grin forming on her face.

“Only a kiss,” Polis said. He leaned down and kissed his wife, and then ran to fetch the condiments.

“That was pretty easy,” Re’lia commented as she began to eat.

“Polis makes it easy. He’s a very capable husband and father,” Meredith said. “It’s funny because he knocked me out cold in that game, but I couldn’t have made a better choice of whom I married.”

“Same here,” Me’lin said. She took the first bite of the burger; it was perfect, as usual. Maybe she was biased because Gark was doing the grilling, but hey, she had to give him props.

“And I third it,” Re’lia said. “Dirxx is a quirky guy, but I love him. He makes it all worth it, the carrying and raising. Always has a sense of humor, and knows what I need before I do sometimes.”

“Guess we’ll all find out how number three for each of us does,” Me’lin said. “Since this isn’t our first time around, and we’ve all been there . . .”

“I’m trying not to think about that just yet,” Meredith said. “The men don’t understand it, but we all do. Labor isn’t fun.”

“Oh I know, but its part of the process,” Re’lia commented. “So we go through it anyways, and then the payoff is so worth it. Nadine is my pride and joy.”

“Whatever the case, we should just enjoy the ride. I think this is our last whirl at adding family members the natural way, so we should make it count,” Me’lin said.

“Speak for yourself,” Meredith said. “I’m still deciding whether I want another one after this or not. Depends on how tired she makes me this time around.”

“Well, this is my last one,” Me’lin said. “Gark and I are getting older, and we need to raise our children and not keep having more, no matter how much I enjoy being pregnant.”

“Dirxx and I are undecided right now,” Re’lia said. “We’ll have three kids, so I think that’s enough, but if Dirxx could somehow find a way to be compatible with me . . . you never know, I could carry a third.”

“Whatever the case, we should enjoy this ride. Never know when we’ll want to look back and remember these days fondly,” Me’lin said. Here she sat in the sun in her summer dress, fed, pregnant, and happy. Things couldn’t get much better as far as she was concerned.

The children finished eating and then continued to play. At one point Anya Chambers-Vayne stopped to look at her mother, who was laughing and eating with her fellow wives. Galin stopped what he was doing. “What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked.

“My mommy is having fun,” Anya said. “I wanna be like her someday.”

“What, fat?”

“It’s a baby, silly,” Anya chided her neighbor. “I wanna be a mommy too, someday.”

“And be with me,” Galin said. “Here, I even got you this flower.” He had picked a flowering weed from the yard and handed it to Anya. The young girl smiled.

“Not a chance,” she said.

“Oh come on,” Galin said, jesting the younger girl. “Maybe we’ll be married someday.”

“Fat chance,” Buck said as he came zooming by, tagging Galin in the process. “You’re it!”

“Fat like my mom? Not a chance,” Galin said, shaking his head, and then chased after Buck. Anya gave the flower one last look and finally stuck it in her hair before continuing to play with her friends. She didn’t understand marriage or babies, and all she could really care about was playing and being active.

On the overall, it was a good day for all.



OOC: Oh, and if you were wondering about the Meredith and Polis Holo image, yes, this was inspired by true events. A certain Eric Decker and his wife come to mind, and were the inspiration for that wisecrack.

 

From AU to regular timeline back to AU! It's March Madness, literally!


TAGS to Trieste, Vehn, Tim Battershell, jcgoble3


It was Week Seven of the Elite League season, and the Smugglers found themselves in a tightly-contested game with the Ord Mantell Scrappers. The Scrappers had the ball with fifteen seconds left and were down by 1. The Smugglers took the timeout to draw up a defensive play and get themselves set for action. Gark was supposed to keep his matchup down at all costs, because the matchup was a possible breakout player here. So he had to keep the man in sight at all times and not let him score.

When the Scrappers inbounded the ball, Gark made sure to keep on his matchup. He had done pretty well during the game, but things had a habit of going wrong at the last second. He followed the man across the formation, and when the man got the ball, Gark made sure to get his hands up, trying desperately to hold on here. There was a break in the defense, and the Scrappers tried to take advantage. The man threw the ball over Gark, but the Bothan got a finger on the ball and it skittered away out of bounds. That left five seconds on the clock. The tension was palpable now.

The ball was eventually inbounded, and a shot went on goal. But Meredith was there to block the shot, the ball landing right in her midsection and bouncing off hard. It cleared from the goal, and then the horn blared. The Smugglers had won their sixth game of the season, and were headed to the playoffs with the Commissioner’s Trophy and the number one seed in hand.

The team celebrated down on the field as the Scrapper home fans left the stands. They had earned this victory, and would cherish every moment of it. Gark found himself in the middle of the pack, celebrating with his teammates. They had a special team here, and he was looking forward to the postseason.

But he could tell that Meredith wasn’t doing as hot. She had a grim look on her face the whole time, and even when Gark had the Commissioner’s Trophy to hold and then pass around, she still looked bothered. He didn’t say anything to her until they were alone in a tunnel in the bowels of the stadium.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“That last hit . . . it hurt . . .” Meredith said.

“Right off the chest does hurt. It’s why I’m glad you went all-out for it,” Gark said. “Without that, we may have lost the Trophy and the top seed.”

“It’s not that. I’m happy we won, but . . .” Meredith said, her voice trailing off.

“What is it?”

“Honey, I’m about a month pregnant,” Meredith said after a pause.

“How come you never told me this before?” Gark asked, astonished.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” Meredith said, slumping down the wall. “After all, we have the playoffs to go through, and I need to be out there for those . . .”

“And risk getting yourself hurt? No way,” Gark said. “You should tell Coach that you’re not going to play next week.”

“But we want this title!” Meredith exclaimed. “And I’m going to make sure we win, pregnant or not!”

“But it’s too dangerous,” Gark chided his wife. “If Coach knew you were in this shape, he’d drop you to the bench immediately. You’re too important.”

“Please, let me finish out this season,” Meredith said. “If we win the title, I want to retire and go out as a legend, baby and all. That way I can stay home with the little one next season.”

“If you get yourself hurt, then there may not be one to care for,” Gark warned her. “You’d put yourself at awful risk doing that.”

“Let me do what I want,” Meredith said. “I can win us that title. Give me a chance.”

“You won’t let me do anything else, so I don’t have much of a choice but to believe you,” Gark said with a sigh.

“Promise you won’t tell Coach.”

“OK, I promise,” Gark said, but he really didn’t want to. He wanted Meredith and the baby to be fine, Limmie title be damned.

---

As the confetti rained down on the field, Gark knew that he had done something special. He had won his third Galactic Cup title. And his teammates had helped him get there. This one was for them, and also for his growing family at home.

He got a huge hug from Meredith in the melee, and in the process he could feel her growing belly against his uniform. She had been able to hide it for this long, but now the season was over. She could go out on top.

“Thank you,” Meredith said, kissing her husband. “We did Baby proud today.”

“I know we did,” Gark replied. “And you kept things easy, so no more pain?”

“Well, I had morning sickness this morning, but other than that I did fine,” Meredith said. “It was like the child was telling me to purge my weaknesses before playing. And it worked.”

When the Cup came around, Gark got his fill of the limelight with it, and then handed it off to Meredith. She grinned as she held the Cup aloft, and then passed it on to a teammate. They had won the title together.

---

“ . . . I hereby announce my retirement from the Elite League,” Meredith said at a press conference. “I’ve won two Cup titles with the Smugglers, and they will always be in my heart. But I plan on having another child, so that’s the next goal for me in life.”

“Meredith, there were rumors this week that you are pregnant and yet still played. Is there any truth to that rumor?”

“Only if you think it is,” Meredith said. “I’m happy with my title and where I am headed in life. Thank you.” With that, she got up and walked off the stage. She had a family to get back to, one that desperately wanted her home.

Seven months later, Meredith went into labor at Naboo Memorial Hospital. She soon gave birth to a little boy, Champ Courage Chambers. She and her husband were both champions, and the boy’s mother had a lot of courage in her to play while little Champ was in the womb, so he was given this name for all time to be a reminder to his parents and to the galaxy what he meant.

“Looks like our little Champion got a big-time name,” Gark said.

“And he will someday be the best ever,” Meredith said, lightly kissing the boy’s head. “Just like us.”

“Just like us,” Gark echoed.


THE END

 

And now for something completely different! It will require major suspension of disbelief in a few key spots, but hey, that's what AU is for!

TAGS to Tim Battershell, jcgoble3, and Trieste (whom I hope will at least appreciate my poor attempt here to be politically savvy and sound like I know what I'm talking about )



“Clearly the opposition thinks that we are a bunch of pushovers,” said Senator Tamin Rice of the outer unincorporated territories. “This farm bill could prove vital to the health of all the small farmers we have here on Bakura. It would not only reduce strain on the farmers’ pocketbooks because of the current low price of grain, but it would also not diminish the public coffers much beyond what we are spending now for what is an illogical set of rules put in place under an old outdated system. We must move forward if we want to get any traction to help out those who need our support.”

“That is clearly your point, Senator, but not everything you’re saying adds up,” Gark said. He sat in a seat near the desk of the Senator, himself a promising bureaucrat. “The biggest problem here is the Conservative Party. They will turn down anything you promote unless it contains tax cuts for the richest Bakurans.”

“Somehow we must bring in the Centrists, to give more credence to our cause,” Rice said, scratching his chin. “If we can get the central parties to side with us, then perhaps we have an opportunity to make for important changes.”

“But if we lose their support, Senator, then your bill is as good as finished,” Gark said, placing his tea cup down on the desk. “We may have to compromise in this situation. And I say that with all intention of finding ways to compromise with all sides. I know what you’re getting at, but it doesn’t always work out as intended. For instance, what are the farmers going to gain if we pass this bill? There’s already unrest in their ranks . . .”

“Dammit, I know that!” Rice yelled. “It’s why I’m here, Representative. I need your support to help get me through this rough patch.”

“How do you think I can help?” Gark asked with a curious tone.

“I need you to convince your fellows in the Liberal Parties to support my bill. And then when we have enough support to lean on from there, we can open up our negotiations with the Centrists and Conservatives. But only if we have a firm leg to stand on first.”

“I see,” Gark said, scratching his chin now. “Well, Senator, I shall do my best, but I believe that you may have to amend your bill slightly to make it more appealing for the urban districts. After all, they may not agree with your views since they see little to no tangible benefit from these proposed policies.”

“I’m sick of the urban districts always getting their way. It’s time that we find a way to unite everyone in this party under one banner, and not keep bickering about the urban-rural divide. That’s led to talk of possible secession in some of the unincorporated territories. I cannot keep them at bay forever, so we need to quit stalling and find a way to appease them so that we don’t have civil war on our hands.”

“You really think that your districts could go to war?” Gark asked. This was curious. He knew that there was tension in the ranks out on the peripheries, but he didn’t know that things were this bad. It was alarming, to say the least.

“Perhaps, Representative.”

“And how do I know you’re not bluffing to win my hand in this matter?”

“I need your support, Representative. Further comment is pointless.”

“Fine, then,” Gark said. “But in order to win over the Centrist parties, we will first need to convince all off the Liberals. And that’s what has me concerned with this plan.”

“Just get it done, and we’ll move to the next stage of the plan,” Rice said, although Gark could tell that the man was gritting his teeth as he spoke. There was a level of palpable tension in the Senator’s disposition, and Gark understood that if his words were true, and secession was really on the table in the rural counties, that things were going to get dicey if they couldn’t find a way to make everyone at the table happy. If they didn’t, the Federal government might have to go to war to protect its interests. And that wouldn’t make a lot of the urban districts happy, because it would be their young men and women fighting and dying for something that feasibly could be addressed here in the political sphere before it went down the spiral into chaos.

---

“I understand your concern, and those of the Senator, Representative,” Senator Vic Conrad, head of the Liberal party, said after Gark finished speaking. “But it will be difficult to give Senator Rice the support he needs. His policies are a little bit vague, and the urban districts will demand progress.”

“Senator Rice believes that the outer territories are willing to go to war if they don’t have more favorable conditions in the political sphere, Senator,” Gark rebutted. “If this is true, we haven’t much time to lessen their burdens. After all, it’s in our best interest to not lose valuable votes. We both know that.”

“But Senator Rice’s proposal isn’t very well-worded, and it’s vague,” Conrad said, looking over the notes once more. “And we can’t afford anything vague right now. The Conservatives are breathing down our necks to get something done, and unfortunately the Centrists are strictly on the fence about everything. We cannot afford to lose their support if we pass a bill.”

“Then we will need to cooperate with the others in the party to write a bill that will be more appealing to the center parties,” Gark offered. “That way we can provide the Conservatives with something more akin to what they want compared to Senator Rice’s proposal that would very likely lead to a near riot at the next session.”

“Then might I suggest we ask another Representative like yourself to cooperate in writing a bill? Perhaps Representative Gorad?”

“No, Gorad is more concerned with his charming looks to be an efficient bureaucrat. He’s more likely to write a bill concerning hair salon management than anything that would affect Bakuran farmers,” Gark countered.

“Representative Harmer?”

“Again, too conservative for this sort of bill. Senator, we need someone who has experience in our party but is also learning towards the center views. Someone who can come up with a more applicable set of offerings.”

“Representative Trieste, perhaps?” Conrad said. “I know that you’ve never really worked with her before, but I think that she has enough energy in her to talk these sorts of things until she’s blue in the face. Miners blue.”

“I’m just afraid that her connections could make this difficult. She’s a mixed bag,” Gark commented.

“Do you have another suggestion?” Conrad asked.

“No . . . I . . .”

“Besides, I think you and Representative Trieste would make an excellent team on this sort of project,” Conrad said. “You have the writing skills to compose a neat and tidy proposal, and she has the political savvy to get almost anything passed. I think she could pass a law banning the Miners if she wanted to. Not that she would, but I think she would be convincing enough to get it passed.”

“Whatever you suggest, Senator,” Gark said, although deep down he was unsure of this. He and Trieste had never gotten along real well; they weren’t enemies, but they weren’t exactly buddy-buddy. It would take a lot of work to get her to agree on anything he said.

---

“Representative Trieste here to see you, sir,” Gark’s assistant called in through the communications line.

“Send her in,” Gark said. He knew that this was the time to make a good first impression for the project they were about to embark on.

The door to his office opened, and the distinct red hair of Kerry Trieste was now visible. She was about as young as he was, roughly 25 to 28 years of age, and she had that mischievous look about her that told her opponents to stay away. She would be special someday, there was no doubt about that. The only question was when she would get her big break.

“Ah, Representative, nice to see you,” Gark said.

“Senator Conrad suggested I see you?” Kerry questioned.

“Yes. It’s about Senator Rice’s farm bill. We need the . . .”

“Centrists to agree with you?” Kerry finished.

“Yes,” Gark finally said after a momentary pause. Trieste had in an uncanny way finished his thought for him. “Because we need the Conservatives to agree with us on something, or at least negotiate a more favorable outcome for them while still getting what we need out of a farm bill.”

“Well, I would think the answer would be obvious,” Kerry said without a moment’s hesitation.

“And that would be?” Gark asked.

“Let’s go for a drink, and I’ll explain it,” Kerry said. “But you’re buying.”

“Fine.”

The bar wasn’t that crowded as they entered and sidled up to the bar. They ordered their drinks, and quickly Kerry was on the attack of the issue. “If the right-wing would like to keep their tax cuts, then they should be given an option to do so.”

“Even with the farm bill not really affecting the richest portions of society?”

“Exactly. So I suggest that we try to get away from tax cuts and instead steer their attention towards rising tensions between the urban and rural districts. We can always blackmail them by threatening that there could be an uprising of populist support if they don’t support the farm bill. Although that wouldn’t work as well as a good negotiable solution.”

“And that’s why we’re here,” Gark said.

“Don’t worry, we’ll come up with something. It’s going to start with the availability of farm stock and seed, you see . . .”

They spent most of the afternoon and night drawing up the plans, plus most of the next day. Gark didn’t even go home, instead sleeping in his office and waiting for Kerry to come up with some master plan. She barely slept as she stared at a Holo board, trying to crack the magical equation that they could propose to the Centrists.

Finally Gark was shook awake by an ‘A-ha!’ moment from his counterpart. “I’ve got it!” Kerry exclaimed, even though the bags under her eyes were borderline puffy.

“What do you suggest?”

“It’s going to start with how we’ve structured farm taxes, and then we’ll go into the public coffer concept . . .” she moved the stylus between points on the board, “and then we try to pressure them to lower farm taxes so that farmers can afford to stay afloat, but we make sure that they cannot choose crops of little to no value, since those take up space . . . so the centrists get their carrot while the right-wing parties are not as affected because prices won’t go up . . .”

“Excuse me, but is that the complete plan?” Gark asked.

“No, that’s just Step One,” Kerry said, that sly smile on her face that Gark had seen many times before used against he and his fellow representatives. “We have a twelve-step program here for this portion of the farm bill proposal. So you’d better start taking notes.”

“Twelve steps? Does it have to be that complicated?”

“Start taking notes,” Kerry said adamantly.

“Fine. We’re glad we don’t have real home lives, or else this would be extremely difficult,” Gark commented as he began to write.

“As long as my father keeps the lights on at the retreat, then I am free to work here. Anyways, step two involves . . .”

---

]
Two Days Later

“ . . . and that is why you should adopt this farm bill,” Kerry finished to a packed room of the Centrists. The applause then rained down upon the two presenters. Gark couldn’t believe how well the system was taken. He had feared that the Centrists wouldn’t take things well, but they had certainly gotten on-board with this plan. When the votes were tallied, it was unanimous approval. They had the ammo they needed to force the Conservatives to the table to negotiate, or to push the legislation through if they could convince three Conservative Senators to jump to their plan.

After the presentation, Gark had something to say. “You really had them captivated,” he said, trying to give his fellow politician a compliment without making it sound like he was groveling in front of her.

“You had the right words there to make it possible. So it was a good tandem effort, I must say,” Kerry commented without showing any additional emotion other than the smugness of accomplishing her mission so easily. “You’re not half as bad as I thought you were at politics.”

“I think I can say the same about you,” Gark said. “You have my respect.”

“But we’re not done,” Kerry said. “The Conservatives are not going to be an easy bunch to push aside. Their interests are strong.”

“Then we’ll have to hammer it home one way or another.”

And that’s how they attacked it. For two days they lobbied the Conservatives to pass the bill. Of course there was quite a bit of opposition, but one Senator the first day came over to the cause, and then the requisite two the next day, plus one extra. They had done their job, and when it came time to vote, the bill passed by a thin majority over what was necessary of 2/3.

“We can get quite a bit done together,” Gark said. “Imagine all the legislation we can put together if we put aside our differences and use our skills for mutual benefit.”

“Yes, I think that’s not out of the question,” Kerry said. “After all, this is politics. And teamwork is essential. I have other things to get to, Representative, but a job well done, I would say.”

“Yes, I agree,” Gark said. Kerry walked away, and as she disappeared around the corner, Gark wondered how a mutual alliance with each other would work. He also was curious to see if they couldn’t just find a way to change Bakura in the process.