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Star Wars Elite League Limmie [A Sports-based RPG, New Players Welcome]

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Trieste, May 31, 2010.

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  1. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 9
    Postseason Power Rankings

    1. Nar Shaddaa Smugglers – Loss this week aside, the Smugglers proved that they were the best team in the league during the regular season. Now they need to do more of the same in the playoffs, where Commissioner’s Trophy teams typically fall short of the title. With all this team has been through in recent seasons, we expect to see the continuation of the Smuggler revival in the playoffs. Yes, that’s now a thing. Deal with it.

    2. Bakura Miners – What a win on Truce Day! It gets this team back on its feet after a long slide, and pushes them into the postseason with hope to make up for a Blue and Gold Bowl loss against Rydonni Prime earlier. Never count the Miners out these days. However, coming that close to oblivion against a terrible Senator team playing way, way above its skill level is cause for concern in some circles. [IMG] 4

    3. Ralltiir Starkillers – Close win at home over a bad C-Bucs team doesn’t look pretty, but at least the Starkillers can finish. Now I think we can tell the Starkiller fans who were complaining that they wouldn’t make the postseason after starting 0-3 to shut up. Going 5-0 in conference play isn’t easy. Should be a tough playoff out, especially at home. [IMG] 1

    4. Rydonni Prime Monarchs – Good win over Chandrila didn’t mean anything for the standings, but was a nice tune up for the postseason. Now they play against an energized Bakura team at home, which in recent years has spelled certain doom for the home team. [IMG] 1

    5. Euceron Storm – Not a pretty win over hapless Corellia, but a win is a win, and it pushed them into second in the Skywalker. Now they need to defend home turf against an angered Ylesia team that faltered at the end of the season but is still strong. N/C

    6. Ylesia Lightning – This is what happens when you let your guard down on the last day of the season; you lose playoff positioning. Still, with a defense anchored by a resurgent Kasin Urdaaza, the Lightning should have plenty of oomph left in the tank. [IMG] 2

    7. Mando’ade Mercs – Going 5-4 and missing the playoffs hurts, but it’s a step in the right direction. The Skywalker was just that good this year. Now, if Lieznam keeps getting hurt, the Mercs might be looking for insurance this offseason. [IMG] 1

    8. Coruscant Senators – How much more painful can this season be for this team? Stumble out of the gate, lose all of your best players due to injury, come in with a bunch of backups and veteran journeybeings, and still almost upset the Defending Cup champions on the road in OT? Dreadful season, but if these players gel, and their returning players stay in form, look out. Never count this team out. [IMG] 1

    9. Agamar Packers – Convincing home win against . . . backups. Doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things, except that Agamar can win consecutive games at this level. Still need a major overhaul this offseason. [IMG] 2

    10. Chandrila Patriots – Patriot Nation won’t be happy to finish in fifth place this season. Watch out, Reina Kether! [IMG] 1

    11. Hapes Consortium Buccaneers – Moira Mallory is gone, so the C-Bucs are now looking for new management. Although expected in many circles, Mallory did a lot for the team. Another standings relapse next year could mean demotion. [IMG] 1

    12. Corellia Rebels – Triage time. Losing at home when their defense actually showed up always hurts. N/C


    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik, @Runjedirun, @CPL_Macja, @Trieste, @Vehn, @Tim Battershell @jcgoble3
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  2. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 9
    Big Board, Week 3

    Augustina Dekula (Twi’lek, Female, Left Half Back, University of Ord Mantell)
    Stat Line: 13 tackles, 2 interceptions, 4 forced fumbles, 4 loose balls recovered, vs. N/A, W 32-10
    Analysis: Potentially the best game of her college career pushes Dekula back into the Big Board’s good graces. Showed flashes of brilliance that were sometimes fleeting during the season. Could be a big-time prospect if she keeps working on her game.

    Sutton Millard (Human, Female, Corner Back, Atalanta University)
    Stat Line: 7 tackles, 1 forced fumble, 1 interception, 2 loose ball recoveries, vs. UBGC, L 16-14
    Analysis: Not enough to help the Titans beat the Cubs, but still had a good game. Now needs to look to the Combine to boost his stock.

    Morganthow (Ryn, Male, Half Forward, Chandrila A&M)
    Stat Line: N/A Did Not Play

    Dorvan Fiesta (Xexto, Male, Corner Forward, UB Gesco City)
    Stat Line: 2 tackles, 1 loose ball recovery, vs. U Atalanta, W 16-14
    Analysis: Weak game from Fiesta, but his team won to finish the season on a high note.


    Patti Meter (Human, Female, Half Back, Citadel University of Anaxes)
    Stat Line: 15 tackles, 3 interceptions, 1 loose ball recovery, 2 forced fumbles, vs. CorTech, W 16-10
    Analysis: Another excellent game from this absolute freak. The Defenders will now play for the Division title, and Meter will lead the way. Should be a lottery pick in this year’s Draft.

    Lyle Kent (Human, Male, Coruscant Polytechnic Institute, Goalkeeper)
    Stat Line: 8 saves, 16 PA, vs. CUAn, L 16-10

    Analysis: Fair game from Kent. Not enough to win, but a fair game. Shows that he has some talent when going up against a good offensive unit.

    TAGS to @Trieste and @Runjedirun
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  3. Runjedirun Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 2012
    star 6
    IC: Martin Vigo
    It was quiet in our box as the Starkillers starters took an early lead on the Buccaneers. Then Fortune took a pretty hard hit. When he got up he was holding his elbow. “How long are the starters staying in?” Spencer asked concerned.

    “Hopefully not much longer,” I answered. I knew what Till was doing, losing momentum with a winning team could be a fatal error, but so could be risking injury. When the next stop of play came Fortune was substituted out. He ran off to the sideline and I saw a medic look over his elbow.

    By halftime we had a solid lead of 14 – 2. Lucie stepped forward to watch the dance routine. When it was over I watched as she pulled out her data pad and furiously made some notes. The second half was played by the second and third string. It wasn’t pretty, but we held our lead and finished the season undefeated in our division.


    Tomas had his final Limmie game the following afternoon. I had already begun to prepare the stadium for the upcoming Conference Championship game, still I managed to pull myself away and get to his game just before it began. Ty was already there when I arrived, sitting by himself. “This one could get ugly,” he warned me.

    He was right. The other team outmatched Tomas’ in size and skill. Tomas hustled onto the field when he was given an opportunity to play. Despite his best efforts he wound up eating turf more times than one. When all was said and done his team lost by a score of 35 – 2, I expected him to say he was done with Limmie for a while when he came off the field to greet me. Instead he waived a data pad in my face, asking me to sign him up for an indoor winter league.

    “I’ll take a look at it this evening,” I told him.

    “All you have to do is sign it,” he insisted.

    “I like to look things over before I sign them,” I explained.

    “What do you want to know?” He asked enthusiastically.

    There were several things I needed to know before signing Tomas up for more Limmie, things that he couldn’t answer right now on this field. Unfortunately Ty had rushed home to check on Lucie and Tomas was going to have to wait until I could talk to him about my concerns. “Several things,” I answered. I looked over the form, “Says here we have another week before this is due. I’ll have it signed before then.”

    “You aren’t changing your mind are you? I know I got roughed up today, but if I play in the winter league I’ll get better. Not all kids play that league; it will give me an advantage in the spring.”

    Without knowing it Tomas had just voiced my biggest concern. He wasn’t just planning on playing Limmie this winter, but the spring as well. He had just turned 9 I wasn’t sure I was comfortable with him making a commitment to one sport. I had no idea how well his skills matched up to those of his peers. Was he setting himself up to be let down, was this too much too soon? Ty was raised playing the sport. I hoped to speak to him and get a feel about what we were getting ourselves into. This was different than the swimming and running my older boys had been involved in. Those sports were not high profile; the competition was not as fierce.

    “I’m not sure yet.” I admitted. “I promise to let you know in a couple of days.”

    Visibly disappointed he stormed off towards the speeder. I followed. We rode home in silence, after dinner I sent a text to Ty asking him when he could possibly clear a moment so we could talk. He immediately called me explaining that practice schedules were heavy all week and that now would probably be best. “What’s this about?” he asked.

    “It’s about Tomas. He wants to play Limmie in the winter and the spring. I’m worried about too much commitment too young. Then there’s this other part of me that wonders if I hold him back will I be robbing him the opportunity to be good enough to play in college or even beyond that, if he’s good enough. I need your honest opinions here. You’ve seen him play more than anyone else who would know. Is he any good? Would I be holding him back? Is he still young enough that some time off is good?”

    “Whoa,” Ty said from the other end of the line. “Slow down. Those are all good questions. Questions most parents aren’t asking, and they should be. Tomas is lucky.” He paused for a minute. “I can’t say if Tomas is good enough to go pro, that’s too hard to determine at this age. He’s better than other 9 year olds, but he has size most of them don’t and the advantage of being played with the older kids.”

    “When did you focus in on Limmie?” I asked.

    “My father signed me up when I was 6. I’ve been playing full time ever since. I don’t remember it being a choice. I was my parents’ only child and my dad saw me as a meal ticket more than a son since the first game I played. He flew me all over Corellia to try out for travel teams, shipped me off to a private school with a highly ranked Limmie team just so I would be scouted. It wasn’t much of a childhood.”

    “Doesn’t sound like much fun,” I said in agreement. “Certainly not what I want for Tomas, should I have him sit out this winter?”

    “No, not at all, Tomas wants to play. As long as he has the desire you should let him play. He’s going to feel pressured to be good. You own the Starkillers, coaches and other parents eventually even the press are going to be following him. I’ll help him with that though, I see Tomas as my little brother in more ways than one. I’ll try my best to guide him, if that’s okay with you?”

    “You were right,” I told him. “When you said Tomas was lucky, he is lucky to have you.”

    Ty laughed. “You might want to hold your judgment on that,” he said light heartedly.

    There was one other question I wanted to ask him. I wasn’t sure if it related to my situation with Tomas; I wanted to know though, so I asked. “Are you upset with your father for making you play Limme?”

    “No,” the answer came quickly. “If it weren’t for my father I’d probably be forced to work a real job. I don’t know if I could handle a real job.”

    I thanked him for his advice. Then I told him that if Lucie was up for it I wanted them to come over for dinner one night this week. He told me he’d let me know as soon as he could.



    Later in the week I attended another one of Spencer’s swim meets. When I arrived I was surprised to find Fortune and Justyne in attendance. Fortune held Zoey in his lap, my wife and Tomas sat in the bleachers as well. I joined them. “Thanks for being here,” I said to Fortune.

    He nodded. I noticed that Spencer was sitting with his teammates. Before his first event he had a long discussion with his coach. He won, I knew he would, this time when the announcement was made that he had set a new all city record he pumped his fist. This time he hadn’t broken his own record this hadn’t been the 500 meter event he broke the record in last time. All of his swims were wins. After the meet I took him out, just the two of us to celebrate.


    The night before the Conference Semi-finals Ty, Lucie, Andres and Coach Till came for dinner. Lucie appeared to be in better spirits. She had started attending dance rehearsals again and was even planning on suiting up for the game that was now only a week and a day away. Tomas, as always was especially excited to have his heroes over for dinner. “Will you come over and watch the Miners play the Monarchs with us tomorrow?” He asked before he even took a bite of food.

    Ty laughed. “If it’s okay with your father I can come.” He answered.

    “I can receive the game in the theater if you want to watch there.” I offered.

    “You have a theater?” Till asked in disbelief.

    “A small one,” I said with a shrug.

    “I’m going to be watching that game 100 times in slow motion over the course of the next week anyway, so why not.” Ty answered.

    Till reached over Lucie to give Ty a smack on the back of his head. “Ow,” Ty cried reaching up to rub off the sting.

    The rest of us tried to stifle our laughs.

    “Define small,” Till requested. “Can my whole team watch in this theater?”

    “Your starters anyway,” I said with a shrug. “There are 30 seats, but one of those is for me, Tomas, Spencer and Bat will want one, Lucie and Justyne will probably want one.”

    “I get the point, just my starters,” Till confirmed.

    “Who do you want to play in the conference finals?” Spencer asked.

    “I wouldn’t mind putting a few more goals on Abe Cynour,” Fortune said with a smile.

    “I really don’t have a preference,” Ty explained. “I just want to win.”

    “That’s the right answer,” Till told Fortune.

    TAG: No One
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  4. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    HSN's Limmie Morning Headlines
    • Smugglers' OC John Huntington declines to interview for Rebels' head coach vacancy
    • Starkillers' assistant coach Gwynn Reeser reportedly to return to the Five Worlds to interview for Rebels' head coach opening
    • League insiders state on condition of anonymity that members of the Board of Governors frustrated with head coach interviewing during playoffs and Board to consider outlawing all vacancy interviews with ELL staff until after completion of a team's season
    • Underdog Cinnagar Imperial travels to UC Bella Vistal for Super 16 Crendan Conference Final
    • Super 16 favorite Citadel hosts UC Hawkbats for Kayl'hen Conference Final
    TAG: @Runjedirun @Vehn
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  5. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    HSN Scouting Draftee Rankings
    Goalkeeper
    1. Zed un Ded (Gungan, Female, Goalkeeper, Theed University)
    2. Lyle Kent (Human, Male, Goalkeeper, Coruscant Polytechnic Institute)
    3. Oola Ban [Oola'ban] (Twi'lek, Female, Goalkeeper, University of Agamar)
    Defender
    1. Wylliam Starsearcher (Human, Male, Right Half Back, University of Tatooine)
    2. Neal Baelidy (Human, Male, Defensive Back, Namaryne System University Knights)
    3. Patti Meter (Human, Female, Half Back, Citadel University of Anaxes)
    4. Horst Penn (Human, Male, Full Back, University of Agamar)
    5. Shen Shyall (Shistavanen, Female, Druckenwell Technical University, Half Back)
    6. Mike Doubleday (Human, Male, Half Back, Tanaab A&M University)
    7. Augustina Dekula (Twi’lek, Female, Left Half Back, University of Ord Mantell)
    8. Fianna Ragnos (Human, Female, Half Back, UBTV)
    9. Bo'gruth (Aqualish, Male, Right Corner Back, Coruscant Polytechnic Institute)
    10. Vern Ghoul (Shistvanen, Male, Halfback, The Ord Sabaok University)
    11. Sutton Millard (Human, Female, Corner Back, Atalanta University)
    Midfielder
    1. Canton Golbert (Zeltron, Male, Midfielder, University of Coruscant)
    2. George Wulson (Weequay, Male, Midfielder, University of Coruscant)
    3. Severine (Hapan, Female, Midfielder, Royal College of Hapes)
    4. Vexa Jocle (Human, Male, Midfielder, Imperial College of Bastion)
    5. Elora Ningo (Sullustan, Female, Midfielder, University of Agamar)
    6. Jessie 'Quicksilver' Dare (Human, Female, Midfielder, University of Agamar)
    Forward
    1. Dorvan Fiesta (Xexto, Male, Corner Forward, UB Gesco City)
    2. Doug Kraken (Quarren, Male, Corner Forward, Dac State University)
    3. Ivaan Artor (Human, Male, Full Forward, University of Agamar)
    4. Emma Blanchard (Human, Female, Half Forward, University of Ryell Clemency Beasts)
    5. Genevieve Rokee (Zabrak, Female, Enarch Tech, Corner Forward)
    6. Morganthow (Ryn, Male, Half Forward, Chandrila A&M)
    7. Jaymes Nolen (Human, Male, Forward, University of Byblos Starjammers)
    8. Rodney White (Human, Male, Vertical City University, Full Forward)
    9. Ropdor (Rodian, Male, Half Forward, The Ord Saboak University)
    10. Kris Bell (Zabrak, Male, Half Forward, The Ord Sabaok University)
    11. Nina Odette (Sullustan, Female, Full Forward, Druckenwell Technical University)
    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @CPL_Macja @jcgoble3 @Jedi Gunny @Runjedirun @Tim Battershell @Vehn
    Last edited by Trieste, Mar 26, 2014
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  6. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 9
    Coruscant Senators Transactions:

    • Gark S'rily resigns as Defensive Coordinator. He will stay on as General Manager. The team is now interviewing candidates for the job.
    TAG: No One (Just tossing my hat in the ring ;))
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  7. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    HSN's Limmie Morning Headlines
    • Adanna Inviere reportedly set to interview with C-Bucs for GM opening
    • Miners organization confirms they have given permission for Assistant GM Briar Thorne to interview with C-Bucs as well
    • Preparations for Galactic Cup Final gearing up in Keldabe
    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @Jedi Gunny
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  8. CPL_Macja Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 29, 2008
    star 5
    IC: Vesper Lynd
    Stoney End Park, Hanna City, Chandrila
    ELL Week 9, Monarchs at Patriots, Game Day

    It all came down to this, like Romo had said in their team meeting, this was the start of the playoffs… and they started on the road. Away games had not been kind to the Monarchs, ever. Since joining the ELL, when the Monarchs played at home the game was a virtual toss-up, netting 19 wins and 18 losses. But in hostile territory they were 11 and 24, basically winning once every four matches.

    On top of all that, it was Stoney End, the most hostile of all hostile territories in the Solo Conference. The limited seating capacity coupled with the rabid fanaticism of the Patriot Nation made it an extremely difficult place to win a game. Not to mention that the Patriots were playing for a chance to get into the playoffs as well.

    From the opening kick-off both defenses clamped down on their sides of midfield. Before the tenth minute had ticked off the clock, Bella Starr had recorded more steals then she had in the previous three games combined. Meanwhile Abe was tending goal like a man possessed. All week long he had been mumbling to himself in and out of practice. Vesper knew that he was letting the close loss to Ralltiir torment him. She tried to talk to him about it on the flight out to Chandrila, but it was no use, he was in a zone.

    By the time the half forwards were able to get the bolo into Vesper’s hands she was bound and determined to break the scoreless deadlock. Her opportunity came in the waning moments of the first half. Shae executed a beautiful reverse cycle kick to Winnie, who headed the bolo to Vesper, who was wide open due to a playbook perfect pick set by Rew. The play happened so fast that Socken barely had time to realize what was going on by the time the bolo hit the back of the net.

    Heading into the dressing room at half-time, Vesper’s goal was the only score on the board for either side. While the team caught their breath, Romo drew up an offensive play to open up the half based on the success of their solo goal. As soon as the bolo dropped, the Monarchs expertly executed Romo’s play. They ball traveled from Shae to Winnie to Vesper as before, but when the Captain brought her arm forward in a snap shot, it was shockingly empty. Instead the shot came from behind her, off the foot of Buggie Resh.

    The two goal lead was all the Monarchs needed. As the match continued on, both offenses made adjustments to the staunch defenses. The Patriots were able to sneak in three goals past Abe and three points over the bar, but each time the Monarchs answered right back. The reality of what they just accomplished didn’t dawn on them until they started to head back to their dressing room. All around the overhead railing, overlooking the tunnel entrance, were fans clad in Blue and Gold.

    One fan hung a banner over the entrance that was emblazoned with the Monarchs’ slogan “WE BELIEVE” in big, bold, blue block letters. Then, in what appeared to be fresh paint, were the gold letters of “we’re playoff bound!” The entire squad paused and just looked up into the faces of their still roaring fans.

    Vesper didn’t know what possessed her to do what she did next. All she knew was that she did it. In a single bound, she grabbed onto the railing above her and pulled herself up into the sea of Monarch faithful. Before she knew it, the rest of her team was joining her in the stands, celebrating with their supporters. If it had been up to them they would have stayed there and partied in the stands all night, but Stoney End’s security department didn’t factor into the plans.

    As the fans were being escorted from the stands, each of the players stripped off their jerseys and randomly gave them away. Vesper handed hers to a little boy who was strapped to the back of his father in a harness. Tears streamed down the shocked little fan’s face. Before Vesper could let go of the jersey, he grabbed onto her arm and wouldn’t let go until she gave him a hug.

    That moment, the way she felt and the connection that she and the squad made with their fans, was what she had been looking for her whole life. Not once did she feel half of what she was now feeling when she was with Arden or Nicholas. Her joy… her elation came from the smiles and cheers of their fan-base. She fed on the energy and excitement of the Monarch Mofia.

    And it made her hungry for more…

    She looked over and threw her arm around Winnie’s shoulders as they marched back to the dressing room, “Next step… a home playoff win.”

    TAG: @Trieste
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  9. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 9
    IC: Adanna Inviere
    Senators Team HQ

    Adanna sighed as she sat at her desk, a hand supporting her head as she leaned on the surface. This season hadn’t gone as planned in any way, shape, or form. So many injuries, so much turmoil, and now the team needed a new defensive coordinator. Gark S’rily had just sent in his resignation from the role the prior day, and with him still away on family matters, she was relegated to dealing with the situation. Being a General Manager was a lot of work, and for the first time since she had joined the Senator front office as Assistant GM, she felt truly overwhelmed. So many moves had to be made, so much stuff needed to be moved around, so much pressure. The fanbase understood that injuries had made this a bad year, and that rookies weren’t good stopgaps from major team triage. But next season they had to do better. Had to finish games, had to stay competitive every week. No more Ralltiir disasters, no more faded second halves against Rydonni Prime, and no overtime heartbreak against Bakura. They had to finish this time around.

    Moves were being made around the league in the coaching staffs and front offices. Corellia was looking for a new coach, Hapes had fired do-it-all Moira Mallory, and there were rumblings that Nar Shaddaa’s coordinators were interviewing for jobs with other teams. It seemed like the rumor mill had started up faster than it ever had before, and Adanna wasn’t sure if she liked that. The Elite League had always been based on stability, yet this was a free-for-all that seemed to threaten everything. Or, it could open up new opportunities. All she knew was that something might change when the Bothan GM returned. Who knew what he had up his sleeve?

    A knock came at the door, and Adanna looked up. “Come in,” she said.

    A receptionist stuck her head into the room. “Conference with Lorrin Malestra in five,” she said before leaving. Adanna sighed once more and then stood up. She had arranged a conference call with Malestra, the Thyferra Force GM, for today, but with S’rily stepping down, it had made the conference even more important. She had to find the team a new DC, and today was the beginning of that journey.

    Adanna settled in at the conference room, of which she was the only inhabitant. A small button on the desk started to beep, and the Hapan pressed it. Up came a Holo image of Malestra, sitting in her desk on Thyferra. The Force were scheduled to play a consolation bracket matchup the next day, so their GM was not available to come to Coruscant for a face-to-face meeting.

    “Morning,” Lorrin said. “Or maybe its afternoon where you are.”

    “Do you have anything pressing you need to inform me of before we start this meeting?” Adanna asked. Lorrin shook her head.

    “Nothing more pressing than needing a new DC? I don’t think you can have much worse than that,” she said.

    “It can be a lot worse,” Adanna replied sullenly. She remembered the 266 season and the abduction of the team by space pirates. It could get a lot worse than needing a new coordinator. “So, I want to talk to you about options to replace our last coordinator. I was hoping that we could speak about a Mr. Mercator that is on your staff right now.”

    “I have talked to Travers about the opportunity, and he says that he is willing to be interviewed for the job if you will have him,” the Force GM said. “I think it would be an interesting move, to say the least.”

    “How so?”

    “Well, other than the fact that we sometimes can’t get him to shut up . . .”

    “Lovely,” Adanna said, not impressed.

    “But he would be a good choice because of the experience he has with many of the defenders who ended the season with the Senators,” Lorrin said. “He worked for a year and a half with Frantsen, Meels, D’jukk . . . I think that promoting him to DC on your end would make the transition smoother than if you brought in someone else from outside the organization.”

    “That is very true,” Adanna said with a nod. She had played for several defensive coordinators in her career, and sometimes those transitions hadn’t been the smoothest. If promoting Mercator meant helping the younger players with the leap to the big show, then it might be worth a serious look. “But what about our veterans? Or, let me rephrase that . . . the few veterans who we likely will keep. What does Mercator bring to the table on defense? I haven’t seen many of your games, so I don’t really know what style of D he likes to run.”

    “Mostly one-on-one,” Lorrin replied. “He’s tinkered with zones in the past, but we’ve stuck with single coverage most of the time.”

    “Any special defensive plans he has? Anything to set him apart from other candidates we might talk to?”

    “You’ll have to ask him that yourself. I am just GM; I don’t interfere with the gameday operations of the team unless requested.”

    “Very well,” Adanna said.

    Then the button on the desk began to beep again. Adanna looked down at it as the small light flashed to signal that a new call was coming in. “I have a new call,” she said. “Hold on.” She pressed the button, and immediately Gark S’rily could be seen on the other end of the line. Instead of being at an office, he was at home, sitting at his HoloNet terminal.

    “Good day,” he said.

    “I’m having a conference call with . . .” Adanna said, but the Bothan held up his hand to cut her off.

    “With Lorrin? Yeah, I know. It’s why I called,” the Bothan said. “Could you route me into the conversation? As the main GM of the team, I need to be in the loop of what you two are talking about.”

    “Fine,” Adanna said. Now there were three participants in the conference call. “So, as I was saying, we should bring him in for an interview.”

    “I take it that my resignation yesterday was of supreme concern for you?” Gark asked.

    “Seeing that I am still interim GM, yes, it’s something that I need to deal with. How long are you going to be away from the office?”

    “Could be a few more weeks,” Gark admitted. “Things on this end are improving, but there’s still a long way to go before I can come back in. It’s why I’m calling you from home, and not in the conference room.”

    “We need someone who can replace you. Someone who knows how to work a defensive system. Someone who knows how to develop players. With all the young talent we have, we desperately need a coach who can come in with a pedigree. Now isn’t the time for bringing in someone completely new,” Adanna said.

    “We may not have a choice,” Gark said. “We need to pick someone in the next few months, so that they have time to work on a system and connect with our players. If we’re going to rebuild this team, we need a D-Cord who knows what they’re doing. The learning curve here is going to be steep, especially with our roster in a state of flux right now. So we have to find someone who can develop these young players, but can make them competitive now.”

    “What about Dirxx Horstse?” Lorrin asked. “He did that job for a few games, did he not?”

    “I don’t know if he is the coaching type that we need,” Adanna replied. “He’s done fine with his positional group, but some results were disastrous when he was asked to take on the additional duties.”

    “He didn’t have much time to prepare, either,” Gark quipped. “And, with our roster constantly changing, it’s difficult to make gameplans when you don’t know who you’re trotting out there each game until the prior day.”

    “I’ve never been convinced that he is a great coach who can make things happen instantly,” Adanna replied. “Hell of a player, but not the greatest coach.”

    “Then what about Shayt?” Gark asked. “She’s more serious on that note, but I’m not sold on her either for this position.”

    “Again, good player, but not a great coach above where she is now.”

    “Besides, we need her to mentor Gamble,” Gark said. “And we also need her to keep the corners in tip-top shape. That was our big weakness this season, not getting enough production from the corners and fulls. We have to get a coach who can teach them those skills, but who can also work with them to refine their technique. She may or may not be a good candidate for the D-cord spot because of that. We don’t have another good being to step in and take over those reins. Shayt needs to stay as positional coach. She can make things happen there.”

    “Then who do you suggest?” Adanna asked. “We’re rapidly running out of options in-house.”

    “It’s very possible that we have to look elsewhere,” Gark said. “If Mr. Mercator doesn’t pan out, then we are forced to look somewhere else. Or you step in, Adanna.”

    “Nope. I’m happy where I am,” the Hapan said.

    “Who might strike our fancy on the open market for this position?” Gark said. “Suppose Mercator doesn’t work out, and he stays where he is. I’m not stepping back in, so we need someone. Keep Dirxx and Shayt where they are. Positional coaches are filled, but not the coordinator. Who can we fill in with? Who can develop young talent and make something happen?”

    Several minutes passed as the three checked notes. Adanna was furiously searching for Premier League coaches. There had to be someone down there worth a look at. Gark, meanwhile, rubbed his eyes a little bit before randomly searching prior Elite League statistics. How the team’s defense had gone from fourth-best the prior year to last this season was the obstacle. He needed someone who could bring them back to prominence.

    Finally, the Bothan stood up and went into the kitchen. Sometimes he could do his best thinking when he wasn’t sitting down in a serious conversation. So he started to make himself a sandwich. As he added layers to the food, he analyzed the process. The sandwich itself was the defense. The bread was the goalkeeper, keeping everything together between the pipes. The meat was the full backs, which protected the goalie and sometimes were the hardest hitters on a team. The vegetables were the corner backs, not flashy, but without them, the team wouldn’t have edge protection. The sauce was the half backs, the glue of the standardly-aligned defense. Now he needed to find the last touch to bring everything together. The plate was the coordinator, the being responsible for supporting the defense, for keeping it steady, to prevent it from slipping and coming apart. He needed to find the plate for his team, a sandwich that was rapidly falling apart.

    He took his completed sandwich over to the Holo terminal. Adanna and Lorrin were already talking, but he ignored them. Something caught his eye on the HSN headlines. Quickly, he began to check the statistics that he had minutes before dismissed. Hm, there was a correlation here, he mused as he searched. Season after season, he saw a pattern. If the headline was right . . . there was another way.

    He took a bite of the sandwich. When it was all gone, all the pieces taken away, then all that was left was the plate. He had an idea.

    “I have an idea,” he said.

    “Then go for it,” Lorrin insisted.

    “The Rebels released Telena Perrette the other day,” Gark said. “Made all the headlines.”

    “No surprise there,” Adanna said. “The Rebels are a terrible team, no matter how you slice it.”

    “But I looked at their defensive numbers,” Gark said. “Despite being awful two of the last three seasons, their defense was no worse than sixth. They were first the season they went to the Cup Final, and somehow were fifth-best in the league this season. That right there screams to me that she doesn’t know offense worth a crap, but she sure can coach defense.”

    “And no one is going to be looking at her for anything because of how bad that offense was,” Adanna finished. She seemed to think like Gark in a lot of ways as his assistant. “They’re going to gloss right over those defensive stats.”

    “I say we bring her in and see if she can’t just get our defense turned around. She may just need the right role on a team,” Gark said.

    “We should still interview Mercator,” Adanna cautioned.

    “We will. But I think it wouldn’t hurt to give Perrette a call,” the Bothan said.

    So for the next hour the two GMs talked to the Selonian about the job. She seemed very interested in coming in for an interview, and was even willing to catch the next shuttle to Coruscant to talk with them. Adanna set up an interview for the next day, and then adjourned the conference call.

    An hour later, she was at a restaurant, eating by herself as usual. Maff Biskis, perhaps her best friend on the team . . . and maybe “boyfriend”, if you wanted to use the parlance . . . was back home for a few weeks. The other coaches were also on their own, Dirxx spending some time with his family, and Shayt doing who knew what. The Feeorin liked to disappear for a few weeks at a time, probably to try and recover from this bad season and get her competitive fire back. She was a competitor like that, Adanna recalled. Excellent teammate.

    As she munched on her food, she received a call on her comlink. Picking it up, she didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” she asked.

    “Ms. Inviere, this is Brandy Lockins, calling from the Hapes C-Bucs organization,” said a voice on the other end of the line. “We were wondering if you would be interested in interviewing for our vacant General Manager position . . .”


    At the end of the call, Adanna had set up an interview. Now she was alone once more with her thoughts. Hapes hadn’t been her team during her pro career, but like every other hotshot Hapan in the Juniors League, she had wanted to play for the C-Bucs. And now she could be their GM. She, who only had two years as an assistant GM, could shed the ‘interim’ tag and take the real job on her home planet. She had multiple decisions to make now, and all of them were going to fundamentally change her life.

    TAG: No One

    Headline Update:

    • Telena Perrette reportedly to interview with Coruscant Senators to fill vacant defensive coordinator position.
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  10. jcgoble3 Fanfic Awards Volunteer

    VIP
    Member Since:
    Nov 7, 2010
    star 4
    IC: Zay Antilles
    Location: Deep in the Unknown Regions
    Time: Prior to Conference Semifinals

    Zay checked the readouts carefully. Sublight engines, four lit and in the green. Deflector shields, powered up and full strength. Forward laser cannons, calibrated and ready. Hyperdrive, fully functional.

    And the backup hyperdrive. For a moment Zay reflected on the sheer stupidity of traveling this deep into the Unknown Regions, especially into potentially hostile areas, without that lifeline. He and his Master had made that mistake a couple weeks earlier. It had taken him two days and four spacewalks, with only the Force to maneuver with or prevent him from floating off into the void, to patch the hyperdrive back together. That had not been a fun experience; zero-gravity made him sick, and he had vomited twice inside his spacesuit. Even then, they could only be in hyperspace for one hour at a time before they had to drop back to realspace for a four-hour cooldown cycle.

    Somehow, they had managed to limp their way to Imperial space just before the life support ran dry; from there they had made contact via holocomm with the Ossus Temple, which sent out a rescue team to pick them up on Bastion. However, in the process, they had drawn the ire of Imperial officials, who were not at all happy about having Jedi in their space; Palla and Zay were at one point detained for questioning, surrounded by ysalamiri, until officials were convinced that they harbored no ill will toward the Imperial Remnant.

    Zay shook his head and brought his thoughts back to the present. They were back near the planet where they had been attacked before, but better prepared this time. For one, they had a ship with better shields, weapons (of which the ship they had been here before in had none), and the all-important backup hyperdrive. Checking the readout, he confirmed that it was functional and could be powered up on short notice if needed.

    “Storm Leader to Storm Group, report in,” he said over the comm. That was the other major difference between this trip and the last one: he and his Master were not alone this time.

    “Storm Two is ready to jump,” came over the comm. Zay immediately recognized the familiar voice of Grand Master Kash Skywalker, Zay's wingmate.

    One by one, the rest of the ships in the squad, eight in total carrying a combined fifteen Jedi Masters and two Knights plus Palla and Zay, checked in. Zay, the only Padawan in the squad, had nevertheless been designated as the squad leader because of his piloting skills and better knowledge of Rondy Bassell and his friends.

    At least Zay assumed that his attacker last time was someone associated with Bassell. He only knew that it was a dark side Force user, quite possibly a Sith Lord; that was the reason for the large number of Jedi on this trip. Rondy had made a comment the last time he had been captured about the Sith getting revenge, so it was not unreasonable now to assume that he could have connections to the Sith.

    Realizing that everyone was waiting on him, he double-checked the course in the navicomputer. It was a short hop to the unidentified planet where Bassell's home base was suspected of being; the jump would only last about twenty minutes. Putting a hand on the hyperdrive lever, he thumbed the comm button. “Storm Group, prepare to jump into hyperspace on my mark. Three... two... one... mark.” He pulled the lever as he said “mark”, and the stars elongated before disappearing entirely.

    Zay spent most of the jump meditating, trying to determine the nature of the darksider that had attacked them before. Following the threads of the Force, he had difficulty untangling the mess, but he managed to isolate a thread connecting the darksider and Rondy Bassell. So they are working together, he thought. Now the meaning of their informant's comment a couple months earlier about “dark forces” being at work was much clearer. Rondy definitely had the support of a darksider, but was it a Sith?

    Concentrating closer on the Force, he examined the relationship between them. Numerous threads sprouted from them, muddled to the point where Zay could not clearly distinguish one from the other. However, they seemed to be leading him in a direction that did not really make sense if the darksider was a Sith. That made Zay fairly confident that they were not dealing with the Sith, but not so confident that he would be willing to stake his life on that belief. He would have to discuss it later with the Masters, who might be able to see the threads more clearly.

    The beeping of the navicomputer brought Zay out of his meditation. He shut it off and put his hand on the lever. “Ready, Master?” he called over the internal intercom.

    “Ready,” said Palla from the gunner's turret. “Be gentle with the compensator, okay?”

    Zay chuckled. “Okay, I'll only do ninety-seven this time.”

    “How about ninety-eight? That's plenty enough for good feedback without trying to plaster me to the ceiling.”

    “Ninety-seven it is,” replied Zay with a laugh. The uninformed observer here might question Zay and Palla's focus with a good chance of a battle coming up in less than a minute, but every Jedi, along with military forces on many worlds, knew that a little joking around before a fight could relieve tension, thereby making actions during the fight more natural and confident.

    Palla, for her part, just groaned.

    Zay gave a countdown to reversion and pulled the lever to drop them back into realspace, then immediately dialed the compensator down to ninety-seven percent. The unidentified planet floated in front of Zay's ship, as if to invite him to approach. Instead, Zay stayed where he was, scanning his surroundings for threats with the Force.

    To his surprise, he found none. In fact, he detected absolutely nothing in the area except the other seven members of Storm Group.

    “Storm Group, this is Storm Leader,” he announced. “I can't find anything in the area. Anybody else detect anything?”

    The comm was quiet for almost a minute. Finally, the silence was broken by a Barabel voice. “Storm Seven detectz nothing. This one thinkz we are alone.”

    The other pilots chimed in with their reports. Nobody could detect anything.

    Finally, Zay formulated a plan. “Alright, Storm Group, stay in formation as we approach. When we reach the planet, split up into wing pairs and start doing a high-altitude grid search for any signs of settlements and create a primitive map of your sector. This could take a couple of days, so swap out pilots and sleep as needed. When you're done, meet back at our current coordinates. Once we split up, all wing pairs check in with your coordinates by comm every ten minutes. If anyone goes out of contact for eleven minutes, all ships abandon the grid search and converge on the missing ships' last known location. Everybody copy?”

    Zay felt weird giving orders to a bunch of Masters, but it was the Grand Master himself who had put him in command. Zay initially thought it would make more sense to have Kash take the lead, or even put Palla in command for her knowledge of the situation despite being only a Knight, but he supposed it was part of his Trials. A Padawan being considered for Knighthood needed to be able to operate independently without having to rely on someone else to make decisions. Ordinarily, that was accomplished by simply sending the candidate on a simple mission by themselves, should one present itself, but Zay suspected that his having command here would serve that role; his ability to run the entire mission by himself from start to finish without having others make decisions would be key to discussions on his Knighthood candidacy.

    Everybody confirmed the plan, and Zay began to apply throttle. Here we go.



    Time: Three days later

    Zay hit the throttle, and the ship broke out of orbit, zooming toward their point of entry into the system with Kash's ship on his tail. He had found absolutely nothing. No signs of settlements, not even a sign of life, sentient or otherwise. Pulling up at the entry coordinates, he opened the comm to talk to the other six ships that were already there. Everybody else's reports matched his.

    Concluding that the planet was merely a trap, sprung on his initial visit, Zay gave orders to return to the Temple. He laid the course into the navicomputer, pointed the ship toward known space, and pulled the lever for the first of four jumps, the last of which would return them to Ossus in eight days.

    TAG: Nobody
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  11. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    HSN Limmie Headlines
    • Miners will wear regular road whites for Solo Conference Semifinal instead of Blue & Gold yellows
    • Patriots shareholder meeting agenda reportedly includes consideration of Kether's contract
    • Chancellor Ekworth to attend Gundarks' LFL Semifinal
    TAG: @jcgoble3
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  12. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 9
    IC: Adanna Inviere
    Coruscant Team HQ

    “Take a seat,” Adanna said as she motioned to the seat across the table from her own. Telena Perrette, the Selonian candidate for the Senators’ defensive coordinator position, and former Corellia Rebels head coach, took the seat without any hesitation. Adanna followed suit and sat down, now across the table from the candidate. Also here were Pamila Korthe, the Senators’ Zeltron head coach, and Allie Orchetrada, the offensive coordinator and Galactic Cup-winning coach. “Before we begin, we have one more individual to get on the line,” the Hapan said. She thumbed the switch on the table, and immediately Gark S’rily came into view on the Holo screen. He was once again sitting at home, yet was more formally dressed for the occasion. No need to scare the candidate away by thinking that this wasn’t a class organization. The Bothan hated formalwear, but Adanna sometimes did too. It was just personal preference and the situation.

    “Ms. Perrette, our first question for your interview for the defensive coordinator position is thus: Why are you interested in the job?” Adanna asked. “What brings you here?”

    “It’s no secret that I love coaching,” Perrette started. “I’ve been doing it for a good dozen or so years. It started when I got injured in college ball and needed to find something to do to help my team. When I finished my playing career, I knew that it was more promising to go into coaching than playing, because I was an average player at a small college.”

    “So why Coruscant?” Adanna urged. The Selonian was getting off-track here a little bit.

    “I want to stay in the Elite League,” Perrette said simply. “I love the glamor, the experience, and most of all the Limmie. When Corellia told me that they wouldn’t bring me back for next year, I wasn’t that surprised. I won one game with that team this season; why would they keep me? But when I found out that your organization was looking for a new DC, I was going to contact you at some point to set up an interview. I am glad you contacted me first.”

    “Limmie is a funny business. Sometimes first contact isn’t always predictable,” Adanna said. “But why would you want to come here? Corellia is a big market, to be sure, with the Five Worlds. But Coruscant is an even bigger market. You’re not going to be able to shy away from things here. Expectations will be high from the fanbase. How do you react to that?”

    “It’s going to be a transition,” Perrette said with a shrug. “With Corellia, I was at the center of the ire of the Rebels’ fanbase. It sometimes felt like there was a target aimed at my head because my team couldn’t finish. We got blown out in the Cup Final, and then won one contest all season the next year. The pressure became too much when I was the first one blamed for all of the problems. But, as to why I wanted to come here. I respect the hell out of this organization. When I was doing some of my initial coaching in college and at lower pro leagues, I, like all the other young coaches out there, looked up to this organization for inspiration. There we all were, fresh out of college up to age 30, trying to break into the profession and be successful. Along comes a franchise at the highest level who proves that you don’t need the best players to win titles. They did it with excellent coaching and teamwork by the players who were available.” She looked to Allie, who had been the coach of that 262 title team. “I took it to heart, and I built myself a philosophy that was slanted heavily towards defense. ‘The Wall’ told me that defense would win games, and that’s all thanks to this club. So, naturally, when your position was open, I figured that with my defensive background, that I could get an interview.”

    “We have noticed your defensive specialty during the past few seasons with Corellia. It’s why we brought you in. Would you say that you are comfortable with being a coordinator, and letting someone else coordinate the offense?” Gark asked.

    The Selonian turned a bit to face the Bothan on the Holo screen. “After this last season, I would welcome that change. My offense this past season scored only six points against this club in the opener, and . . . not to be rude . . . but your defense was lacking this season. I’m not an offense-minded coach, and the Rebels wanted too much on that end from me. It worked in the Premier League, but not here in the Elite League. Being able to focus on defense and midfield help for the Back Six is what I’m strongest at, and what I think I can bring to the table for this club.”

    “With the Rebels, you had a franchise goalie in Antilles. We don’t exactly have that,” Adanna said. “We have three young options to pick from, but one struggled all year, another played all of three games, and another has three years of LFL experience, but none at this level. Barring any trades for a good option there, we might have to draft a goalie this year, or have to pick from one of those three to start off the year. So this job is going to be difficult, because we not only need to rebuild the defense, but also have to find a good candidate to put between the pipes. Can you handle that sort of pressure, because it will require you not only to come in with ideas on how to coach the defense, but also to aid in the rebuilding process for the Back 6.”

    “That is indeed a lot of pressure,” Perrette admitted. “But I think that it’s something I can more readily do than coach offense. I saw some footage of your defense from last year, including our game. I saw some good players there . . . now it’s to find a happy medium with all of them. I was impressed doubly so by Gamble . . . is that her name? You’ve got a budding star there.”

    “She’s coming off a blown MCL, though,” Gark said. “So we’re starting the offseason with our star injured, and a bunch of rookies and career backups. The starters from this past season may not be around here much longer. That’s a lot of things to keep track of. How would you build our defense if it was solely up to you?”

    “I need a franchise goalie,” Perrette said. “When you have someone there who you can trust, then you build the rest of the unit around their skills. Try to find some of everything . . . skill, speed, size . . . and use what combination works.”

    “We like to run a substitution-heavy game,” Pam finally said. “It keeps the starters fresh, especially down the stretch of tough games. However, with our inconsistency issues last year, our backups were getting torched like the starters every week. How comfortable are you with sticking to that philosophy?”

    “I like stability on defense. This past season, despite all the losing, I had an experienced group of defenders who could give me 45 to 60 minutes every game of maximum effort. My backups weren’t as reliable, and they didn’t get much PT because of it. My starters got the minutes because I trusted them to do their job. We were ranked fifth in scoring defense because of that.”

    “It’s not going to be so rosy here,” Adanna said. “We need to build our defense up from scratch, using whatever pieces we have available. That means veterans who fell out of favor last season, backups, and rookies. We need to craft something out of this pool, because right now, Gamble is the only player guaranteed to be on next season’s roster. That’s a lot of uncertainty. Can you handle having to join a complete rebuilding project?”

    Perrette sat still for several seconds, knowing that this answer could make or break her interview. Adanna had been leading up to this question the whole time. The room was deathly silent, waiting on the Selonian to respond. Finally she put her elbows back on the table.

    “It’s not the optimal situation, but I can do it,” she said. “Give me some time this offseason, and I’ll come up with a plan.”

    “Very good,” Adanna said. “We were hoping you would say that. If we offer you the job, you’re going to need to come in regularly this offseason to have meetings with the team staff, players, and other aspects of the organization. You will be required to come to the Draft because we need your input on picks, especially the first overall selection that we will have if Corellia and the other teams don’t’ draft again. You will need to get to know your defense early on in the process as you assist us in building the best unit we can with the pieces we have or can acquire. That means keeping in contact with the players, and coming up with a plan for team workouts this offseason to get them into shape.”

    “That’s a lot to work on,” Perrette said.

    “But it’s going to be required because we’re rebuilding,” Adanna said. “It’s going to be a laborious process, and it might be slow sometimes. But we’re going to trust you to get things done. We can do great things with this franchise. We can clear plenty of salary this offseason, and have some interesting prospects who now have Elite League experience. It’s a period of transition, but it’s also an opportunity for you to make a name for yourself.”

    “Let me put it this way,” Gark said. “Do you want to stick it to Corellia for cutting you loose?”

    “Yeah,” Perrette replied. “It wasn’t a complete surprise, but I would like to stay in the league and prove that them cutting me loose was a huge mistake. Plus this organization has a lot going for it, and I would like to work here. It’s going to be a challenge, but there’s stability here that I like. So I’m going to do what I need to in order to make sure the Senators have a turnaround next year.”

    “That’s what we like to hear,” Gark said. “I think that wraps up our interview.”

    The Seolonian thanked the interviewers and then left. An hour passed as the four coaches and GMs talked things over amongst themselves. “She’s got a good defensive pedigree,” Allie said. “We need that after this year. My offense couldn’t score enough to keep up.”

    “She’s about as experienced as we’re going to get,” Gark added. “I don’t think we’ll find another coach out there who has three years of experience at this level who is willing to go through a rebuild.”

    “So you think we should hire her?” Adanna asked.

    The Magic Bothan just rubbed his chin. This would require some thought . . .




    Telena Perrette sat at a restaurant, eating something that she had never heard of before but thought looked good. It tasted fine; nothing like home cooking, but OK. The interview had gone fine, but she was still a little worried about what the Senators would say. Would they be interested in her after she had said her piece? Had she cared them away? Rebuilding was a tough proposal, especially in this market. But, on the other hand, she could focus on just the defense, and that was her specialty. Now she was waiting to see if they would call her back.

    Then her comlink rang. Telena, this is Adanna Inviere from the Senators. We would like to offer you the defensive coordinator position.

    “I’ll take it,” Telena said.

    Good. Don’t leave town just yet, because we’ll need to set up a press conference to announce the signing once we come to terms on a contract,” Adanna said.

    “Plus I need to start looking into real estate out this way, sell my old place on Corellia . . . you know, move out here for the new job,” Telena said.

    Then get started on that, because we need every day here to get a defense built,” Adanna said. “We look forward to having you on the staff.

    Although her hiring wasn’t official yet, at least Telena Perrette had a job in the Elite League. It was going to be a challenge, but since when was coaching easy?




    Adanna packed up her things and got ready to leave the office. They were going to hash out contract terms with Perrette, which would give the defense some stability going into the offseason. At least the players didn’t need to wait several months to get a new hire. However, what it meant was that things were going to have to start now. No more waiting for a new coach; the clock on the rebuild was ticking. Time was money, especially in the Elite League.

    Then her datapad received a message. She reached over to pick it up. It was a message from Maff. I’ll be back in town next week. Plans changed at home, so I’m coming back early. You want to hang out at some point?

    Sure, Adanna typed back. Got a new DC, so the offseason is now in full swing. See you soon. She shut off the datapad and sighed. There was no going back now for the team . . . or for herself. Maff was a great guy; she was starting to really like him. That was in itself a change from her old stoic self. The team was going to have a new coach, one who would help with the rebuild. Old pieces would be swept away as a new defense was to be constructed. She had an interview with Hapes in a few weeks, and that was on her mind as well. Those next few weeks were going to be a long one . . . now the ball was in Perrette’s court as to figure out how to proceed.


    TAG: No One
    Last edited by Jedi Gunny, Mar 29, 2014
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  13. Vehn Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 14, 2009
    star 4
    IC: Tover Micjaa
    Hall of Heroes, New Six Boroughs Stadium, Nar Shaddaa



    Tover stood before the gravesite of Smuggler legend and dear friend Rhia Grames. Her ashes had been spread at Old Six Boroughs following her death in 265 ABY and the marker he now looked down upon was to provide a focal point for fans, friends, and family to reflect on a legend. How sudden her passing had seemed to him. One day she’d been that bright eyed, fiercely calculating, incredibly competive woman hoisting up the Galactic Cup and the next it seemed they were lowering her into the ground.
    Her death had never really been easy for him, hadn’t been easy for anyone who had known Grames personally.

    Sometimes, during his many solitary walks, Tover would catch a glimpse of dark black hair, hear a familiar laugh, and think for a second that Grames was still alive. One second look confirmed his worst suspicions that his friend was truly gone. She had been so much more than a player, a coach, and a general manager for the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. Everyone who followed the game knew that Rhia Grames had grown to become the very essence of this proud franchise that now eyed securing what Grames could have only dreamed of in life: a record setting 10th Galactic Cup.

    The Nar Shaddaa Smugglers had won the Commissioner’s Trophy this year. The last time the franchise had taken home that particular trophy was in 262 when they’d gone on to lose by two points to Alsakan in a heart-breaking Final. Tover could remember the anguish he’d felt as the team crumbled late in the second half and succumbed to the young blood. He never really recovered from that heart-breaking Final game on Hapes. Two years later he retired from public life and was never heard from until Kaitlyn Vehn came knocking on his door 10 years later. By then he’d had time to distance himself from the disappointment of that season and had taken the head coaching job to prove to the galaxy, to prove to his own inner self, that he still had all the right stuff. Besides, if there had been anything that Rhia Grames had taught him in all the years she had been his personal mentor it had been to rebound strong from a crushing blow and defy everyone who had ever tried to bring him down.

    So he had rebounded. The project had taken a few years but the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers had put in a phenomenal regular season performance and if all the chips fell their way, well, he’d have plenty of reason to celebrate. He liked the staff that he had: John Huntington was a whiz when it came to helping the offense put in one dominating performance after another. Meredith Chambers had been a real pleasure to coach and watch during her own illustrious career that spanned the better part of the last decade. She had seemed to handle the pressures of being defensive coordinator quite well and had Jayla Leed playing at an optimum level.

    “Activate hologram,” Tover said as a life-size image of Rhia Grames in all her glory, wearing the old Smuggler uniforms, seemed to tower above him.

    She seemed so real in this moment. Her thick dark hair swirling in the wind, her eyes cold as ice, her face determined to square off against any enemy of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. Footage showed her getting a leg up on Tan Strensky during their intense rivalry of the 230s, her last Galactic Cup win as a player in 239, and then ten years later, there she was, proud coach, holding that glorious trophy one more time for all who had ever come to love the burgundy and black.

    Tover sighed. He’d called off practice today for the squad. It was still early yet and he didn’t want the team spoiling at the wrong moment. Maybe that was going to come back around to bite him. Tover’s problem had never been getting the Smugglers to the playoffs. His problem had been winning playoff games. He was positive the analysts would pull some stats out of their rears during the pre-game talk show about how dismal his playoff record was, how many Galactic Cups he’d lost, how his teams could never quite seem to get over the proverbial hump.

    “Thought I’d find you here,” Meredith Chambers said as she emerged from the darkness of the hall.

    “You know me too well,” Tover replied.

    Meredith stared up at Rhia Grames and smiled. “Beautiful woman. Even better player. I remember seeing her as a kid from the Holonet feed at home. I used to love staying up late to watch recaps of her games. She made me want to become a Nar Shaddaa Smuggler.”

    “She did?” Tover asked.

    Meredith nodded. “I wanted to be just like Rhia Grames when I grew up. Little did I know I found myself in all this and became my own star with my own story and my own legend.”

    “This franchise has done well because if what you’ve done, Meredith,” Tover said.

    “I seem to remember it was doing fairly well before I came along,” Meredith reminded her boss. “Besides, not often that two Hall of Famers can look upon the woman that helped make them great and be working for the same franchise.”

    “I suppose you have a point,” Tover observed. “You know what I hate?”

    “What?” Meredith asked.

    “All those sports analysts who think they know the game. They don’t know frakking anything. They don’t know how many hours it takes to run a franchise, to rebuild one from the ground up, to aim for the pinnacle of the sport. I do. I’ve given so much to this
    team, so very much, and they’re going to run my name into the ground, I know it,” Tover grumbled.

    “You sound like something is bothering you, what’s up?”

    “You remember when we lost to Alsakan? That year everything was going our way and then bam!” Tover said as he slammed pounded his fist into his palm. “The season was gone in the blink of an eye. Just like that, all our dreams, swept under the rug.
    Maker, I can still see that red and blue confetti and those damn Alsakan Flyers fans chanting, singing.”

    “How could I forget? We’d beaten the undefeated Mon Calamari Mariners the year before,” Meredith reminisced.

    “All I want, all I ever wanted, is to get back to the frakking game and hold that Galactic Cup trophy above my head one last time. I want to see the 276 Nar Shaddaa Smugglers engraved right below the 275 Bakura Miners and I want people to remember that
    this was the year that we put the galaxy on notice. That this was the year that Tover Micjaa cemented his legacy for all time,” Tover said.

    “The entire team wants that experience, Tover. The entire team. When I close my eyes at night I can see that trophy. It calls to me, beckons me forth from the shadows. We know what it means to be champions. We also know what it means to be defeated on the greatest stage of them all. You, Tover, are a beacon in the troubled wastelands of this city. The team is going to fight hard for you. I know they will. I know all about the fire that burns inside of you and pushed you to come back. I know all about it. That fire gnaws at me every single day. Nearly ripped me heart out to see the Bakura Miners hoist the trophy last year, the way Kerry Trieste and her daughter celebrated in our stadium! I’m not going to take this sitting down. I want us to double our efforts on practices. Get everything right down to the most minute detail.”

    Tover laughed and shook his head, “Promise me one thing, will you?”

    “Anything,” Meredith said.

    “You’ll always stay with this organization?”

    Meredith felt her heart rise up into her throat. She’d been pursued by Hapes for their head coaching vacancy. Since it was still early in the playoffs, well, she hadn’t gone to interview, but Tover’s question bothered her, rattled her, and she fought hard to not let a sign of that show to her friend.

    “I’ll do my best,” Meredith replied with a gulp.

    Tag: No One
    Last edited by Vehn, Mar 29, 2014
  14. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    Playoff time. Bonus rolls to Bakura, Euceron, and Rydonni Prime. Banked bonus rolls to Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa, and Ralltiir. Here we go!

    Galactic Cup Playoffs
    Conference Semifinals
    (3) Bakura Miners at (2) Rydonni Prime Monarchs (3-22)
    (3) Ylesia Lightning at (2) Euceron Storm (2-17)

    Conference Finals
    (2) Rydonni Prime Monarchs at (1) Ralltiir Starkillers
    (2) Euceron Storm at (1) Nar Shaddaa Smugglers

    TAG: @CPL_Macja @jcgoble3 @Runjedirun @Vehn
    Last edited by Trieste, Mar 30, 2014
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  15. jcgoble3 Fanfic Awards Volunteer

    VIP
    Member Since:
    Nov 7, 2010
    star 4
    IC: Zay Antilles
    Location: Unknown Regions
    Time: Day of the Conference Semifinals

    Zay brought the ship out of hyperspace from the first jump and checked the navicomputer to confirm they were in the correct location. They were. Seconds later, seven other ships flashed into existence near them—the rest of Storm Group. Zay began to calculate the next jump, but found himself yawning and having trouble concentrating; running the search of the unidentified planet had taken a lot out of him.

    “Why don't you go get some rest?” Palla said from the back of the cockpit. “I can take it from here.”

    Zay thought about it for a moment. He was supposed to be the one running this mission... and yet the mission was essentially over. And he needed sleep. It was an easy decision. Zay got up from the pilot's seat and headed toward the sleeping quarters. “Thanks,” he said to his Master as he passed her. “Wake me up when we're back in known space, okay?”

    “Sure thing,” she said as she sat down.

    The last thing Zay saw before he left the cockpit was Palla fiddling with the navicomputer.



    A short time later

    Zay awoke to the sensation of being beaten with a pillow. It took him about fifteen seconds of experiencing that sensation to wake up enough to realize that he actually was being beaten with a pillow. Groggily, he grabbed the pillow and pulled it out of his assailant's hands, then threw it across the room. Now almost fully awake, he stared daggers at the person standing next to his bed.

    “Was that really, really necessary?” he asked as he sat up.

    “Yes,” said Palla. “I've been trying to wake you up for an hour.”

    “An hour?” Zay picked up his chrono and looked at it. “What the hells? It's only been ten hours since I laid down. We can't be back in known space yet.”

    “We're not. I talked to Master Skywalker right after you left the cockpit. He and I agreed that there wasn't really a better opportunity for you and I to take a little detour that we frankly should have done years ago.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Follow me to the cockpit and you'll see.”

    Zay let his Master take the lead, and he trailed behind her until they were both in the cockpit. Hanging in the void in front of them was a planet that was pure white, glistening in the rays of its sun. Though there were more than a few planets in the galaxy that could meet that description, the young Jedi nearing Knighthood needed only one guess.

    “Ilum,” declared Zay. “I was beginning to wonder when we would come here. So it's time?”

    “Yes, it is.” Palla reached over and patted Zay's lightsaber. “This thing that you and I put together at the Temple years ago has been put to plenty of use, but it's past time for you to build your own from scratch. I brought your supplies that you crafted back at the Temple,” she said, withdrawing a small bag from her pocket. “Now you just need the crystal to go with it.”

    Zay took a deep breath to center himself before responding. “I am ready.”

    “Good. Keep in mind that every apprentice has a different experience in the Crystal Caves. Some simply need to locate their crystal and assemble their lightsaber, while others will encounter obstacles. These can range anywhere from needing to overcome your own flaws to proceed, to visions that bring up past memories and challenge your ability to stay true to the Jedi Code, to many other trials and tribulations. What you will experience, I do not know and cannot say. That is for you to find out on your own.”

    Zay nodded and closed his eyes, lightly meditating on what was to come. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find the ship already on the ground near the Caves. Silently, he followed Palla to the mouth of the caves, where she stopped and motioned for him to go on. Zay knew that he had to do this by himself; taking his bag of supplies from his Master, he ventured into the first cave.

    Sinking himself completely into the Force, he began searching for his crystals. Crystals were everywhere inside the Caves, but he needed the ones that called out to him specifically. Eventually, Zay stumbled across two sitting side-by-side that were practically screaming at him through the Force. Reaching down to retrieve them, he wondered, Can it really be that easy?

    Zay sat down cross-legged on the floor of the cave and emptied the bag of parts out in front of him. As he began to manipulate them with the Force, he was suddenly surprised when the image of Rondy Bassell materialized in front of him.

    “You think you're a Jedi?” sneered Rondy.

    Zay jumped to his feet, forgetting his construction project for the moment as he tried to figure out what to do. Finally, he gained the confidence to reply. “Yes. And I will find you and put you in prison.”

    “Seems you've already done that twice and it hasn't worked. Admit it: you want to kill me.”

    “Jedi do not want to kill. We seek justice.”

    “Whose?” Rondy asked sarcastically.

    Zay refused to rise to the bait. “Justice does not have a master,” he replied.

    Rondy grew visibly angry at this and reached inside his jacket. He pulled out a cylindrical object and threw it at Zay, who caught it. It was a fully completed lightsaber, one that looked just like the one he had been preparing to construct moments ago. Zay ignited it and was surprised to see a blood-red blade emerge from the emitter. Rondy laughed.

    “Don't you see it?” the bomber said. “The dark side is your destiny.”

    “I will never turn to the dark side.”

    “Oh, you will. Eventually you will realize that the Jedi are holding you back. Only with the help of my friend will you learn the true limits of your powers.”

    “You and your friends will not get away with this.” Zay concentrated on the Force and purged all traces of the dark side from his body. “You are a figment of my imagination. I can make you go away and I will.”

    “Fine, but remember this: the dark side is your destiny. You will turn to the dark, or you will die. It's your choice, but you must choose.”

    Rondy faded into nothingness, leaving Zay once again sitting on the floor, cross-legged. He began to resume the construction of his lightsaber, only to realize that it was already complete and lying in his lap. He picked it up and studied it. It looked in all respects identical to the one that Rondy had thrown to him in the vision. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the ignition button, and was both relieved and surprised to be greeted with a golden-yellow blade. It was extremely rare for Ilum crystals to produce blade colors other than blue and green, but it had been known to happen. Now Zay was the owner of one such blade.

    Still processing the vision of Rondy Bassell, he slowly made his way back to the mouth of the cave, where he found his Master sitting on the ground, meditating. Not wanting to disturb her, he too sat down to meditate, but before he could do so Palla noticed him.

    Palla studied Zay for a moment. “Did everything go alright?” she asked. Zay simply nodded. “Well, let's see your lightsaber, then.”

    Zay withdrew his lightsaber from his belt and presented it to Palla, who inspected it. “Looks good,” she said. She ignited it, and her eyes popped wide open. “Yellow? I've heard of Ilum crystals giving a yellow blade, but this is the first time I've seen it with my own eyes. Very interesting.”

    “Surprised me too,” said Zay.

    “Well, there's a storm moving toward us, so if you're done, then I think we ought to get back to the ship and off this rock before it hits.” She stood up. “Come on. The Storm game should be downloaded by now.”

    Zay needed no further prompting. The two Jedi got back to the ship in no time, and noticing how fast the storm was bearing down on them, Zay quickly lifted off and into space. Laying in the standard course to and from Ilum, a direct jump between it and Metellos, Zay sent the ship into hyperspace before setting up Palla's datapad—he still hadn't replaced his old one after having destroyed it a few weeks earlier—to watch the game.

    The game was a real snoozer, and Zay might have done just that if not for the fact that Euceron was the team dominating the game. The Storm front three weren't having any luck, but the half forwards and midfielders chipped one point after another over the bar, while the Lightning didn't get on the board until garbage time. In the end, the Storm moved on to the conference championship for the third consecutive season without scoring a single goal; even the Lightning goalkeeper managed to record a no-goal game in a fifteen-point loss.



    Location: Jedi Temple, Ossus
    Time: Five days later

    Zay hit the call button on his comlink and waited for an answer. He was attempting to get ahold of their informant to see if he had any new tips for them. Palla joined him as the ringing continued.

    Finally, the ringing stopped, leaving silence on the other end. After a moment, Zay decided to speak. “Hello?” More silence. “Hello?” said Zay again. “This is Zay Antilles.”

    A deep, throaty voice responded from the other end. “That's what I kriffin' thought, Jedi poodoo.”

    Zay tried to say something, but the person on the other end hung up before he could open his mouth.

    “Well, that's not good,” said Palla.

    “Indeed,” said Zay. “First Tenal goes missing, now this. You think they're connected?”

    Zay was referring to his best friend, Tenal Dahn, who had been investigating a lead on Bassell three months earlier when he simply disappeared without a trace. Multiple search teams had been unable to find any trace of him or make contact with him.

    “That could very well be. I think we need to report this to the Council immediately.”

    “Agreed.”

    TAG: Nobody
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  16. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    HSN Morning Headlines
    • Miners assistant coach Cuth Hulu to interview for Rebels' vacancy
    • Miners owner Kerry Trieste to undergo "routine" liver transplant with season finished. She is expected to be ready to attend the offseason Board of Governors meeting
    TAG: None
    Last edited by Trieste, Mar 31, 2014
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  17. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    HSN Morning Headlines
    • Kaitlyn Vehn and the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers are embroiled in a wrongful death lawsuit brought on by a family member of a construction worker who fell to his death while building New Six Boroughs. New evidence has come to light that Six Boroughs was rushed in construction and that Kaitlyn Vehn may have had a hand in forcing the unions to work their employees hard in order to complete the stadium ahead of schedule.
    TAG: @Vehn
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  18. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    (OOC: Ever since I heard this song used in the context of the TV show referenced in the video, I knew that I had to use it for a Miners playoff defeat. Of course, the moment I decided that, there wasn’t a playoff defeat for which to use it. Thank you @CPL_Macja for making this choreography of text and music possible. :))

    IC: Falene Trieste
    The Grande Villa, Ryell, Rydonni Prime



    The blue and yellow streamers that rained down around Falene as she stood on the field, her hands laced on top of her head out of uncertainty of what else to do or what to feel, seemed to taunt her. Yes, the light blue and maize streamers were very definitely Monarch colors, but they were all too eerily similar to the dark blue and deep gold of her team. They made it seem like victory had been close, too close, sharpening the ache inside of Falene told her that the next step towards the Cup had been in her grasp.

    Except it hadn’t.

    The Monarchs had come out prepared for the Miners. Cynour and his defense had kept the Miners from scoring a single goal in the entire contest. The offense that was the trademark of Bakura limmie, the offense that had scored the most points all season of any Elite League team had ground to a halt against a defense that had given up nothing today. Every angle that the Miners tried, they were stopped. When Valerii realigned things at the half, the Monarchs anticipated it perfectly.

    At the other end of the field, it had, as usual, been her cousin’s day in the sun. Vesper had watched Miners limmie for much of her life—and it seemed she knew precisely how to exploit it. Some of her greatest games had been against her hometown team. This playoff win, the first Galactic Cup Playoff win for the Rydonni Prime Monarchs, would almost certainly be considered her greatest to date. Though she was her cousin and had been a galactic collegiate and Galactic Cup champion, Falene couldn’t help but smart under the continued success that Vesper always seemed to find when she faced the Miners, win or lose.

    The hard truth was that if Falene didn’t like it, she should play better when she faced Vesper. That was that.

    The beaten down, 19 point deficit Miners trudged to their end of the field to console each other as the Monarch celebration went on. Last season, that had been them, celebrating a historic win on their home field. How the tables had turned.

    As teammates hugged each other, providing emotional support as the reality of a season now over hit them, Falene found herself thinking, Guess we got what we deserve.

    Her mind went back to that Euceron game—a game that they hadn’t needed to win as 4-5 and 2-3 in the conference would have gotten them into the playoffs all the same—where they’d done what they had to do to win. They’d played dirty, harder than they had to, and had been called on the carpet after it. It had hung over the rest of the season (indeed, their three game losing streak had immediately followed it, as if that was their penance for their sins) and it had haunted Falene.

    It seemed now to be emblematic of the Miners’ season. There had been an arrogance to this team, the new “evil empire” as it was now becoming known. It was a team whose championship had created a sense of entitlement—that they deserved to keep winning, that they deserved to repeat. They had played like it. They were run, by an Eriaduan who had never seemed loftier, like it.

    The Monarchs had summarily stripped them of that in 60 minutes. Falene wasn’t sure if that was such a terrible thing.

    The loss was a hard one for the Miner rookies and sophomores. Falene could see it in their eyes. Jolla Pic was fighting back tears. Glencross, who had experienced enough playoff losses in her career to know how to handle it with dignity, was doing her best to console the taller woman. Ponie, whose rough stuff hadn’t connected today and had resulted in her flying around the field looking more foolish than anything, was biting her lip as she stood there, one hand on the shoulder of the player with whom she had the strongest bond, to whom she felt protective at all times. That player, Lizbit Comstock, who was not very big to begin with, had never looked smaller to Falene than she did now. Zonko, the standout corner forward in college who had a good start, though not a flashy one, to his pro career was giving Nanchecka’s head a rub in a sign of mutual commiseration.

    Of everyone, the person who seemed to be taking it hardest was Dalton Ward. The midseason starter had been unable to stop the Monarchs upfront and his head was hanging, chin on his chest. Falene could sympathize. The pit of failure in her stomach was probably not too different from the one that Ward was feeling. It would be a long time before that went away this offseason.

    Niskat was getting patted on the back by Rodders. This first sting of playoff defeat looked to be bitter for her. Falene went over and hugged her friend.

    “This sucks,” Niskat said.

    “Yeah,” Falene agreed.

    She looked at the Miners, at every one of them in this moment of defeat. She looked at the forwards who had been stopped so shockingly after so much success: Aron, Nanchecka, Zonko, Morgan, Niskat, Becki. There were the two midfielders, two of the best in the league: Alana and Jolla. Her fellow defenders who had just not held and put in a day that wasn’t going to cut it when the Monarchs stood them up at the other end of the field: Lizbit, Maxx, Bengi, Dalton, Nelly, and Ponie. They were as much a family to her as any House of Bakura was and she looked at them all with the sting of salt in her eyes, the pain of knowing she shouldn’t cry, but not sure that she couldn’t.

    “Come on. Handshake,” Alana said, moving through the Miners, forming the head of the line herself. Falene wiped at her eyes. Cathartic release would have to take a backseat to sportsmanship.

    In their white road uniforms, in which they were usually so good, the Miners formed a single line with which to meet the advancing Monarchs in their special maize kits for the occasion. Falene shook hands with every member of the Monarchs, coach, player, trainer, every one of them and said the same words with as much sincerity as she could muster.

    “Good luck,” Falene said.

    There was one being to whom she had to say more.

    There was only a second before Falene realized that Vesper was the next person in line. She shook Vesper’s hand and pulled her cousin into a natural hug. “Congratulations,” Falene said, patting Vesper on the back, “Good luck. Go get them and get your name on the Cup.”

    And then she kept moving through the line. When all the hands had been shook, there was only one place to go—the visitor’s locker room to get undressed and head back to Bakura. There would be no second leg to Ralltiir. No express shuttle to Mandalore. Just home and a long offseason. Not as long as some others, but it would be so much longer than the last one.

    At the door to the locker room the head coach stood. She gave everyone a pat on the back as they passed by, a final moment of comfort from their leader.

    “It was a heck of a season,” Valerii told Falene.

    The center half back took a seat at her stall, drained. The locker room was quiet as everyone’s heads were full of what happened, what didn’t happen, what could have happened. It was not a time for words.

    Falene didn’t try to break the silence. With tired arms, she grabbed the towel that hung on a hook behind her and buried her face in it. It was the most privacy she’d get to cry things out here and she couldn’t hold it back any longer. She felt the warmth of another body next to her and she instinctively knew that it was Niskat and that she was crying too. Falene slid on the bench so their bodies touched and they cried, side-by-side, a little less alone than they had been before.



    Kilmainham Brook, Prytis, Bakura
    Three months later


    The door to the Taoiseach’s study opened, slowly, with the weight of the history of the Great Room and its portraits seemingly embodied by its wood. Falene, Declan, and Ayn all looked up simultaneously. Somehow, Falene felt that she should stand and she did so. She was shortly followed by her brother and sister in-law.

    “Good evening. Thank you for waiting,” Kerry said to her children, “I apologize. I…It was a long journey back from Coruscant.”

    Kerry had gone to the Board of Governors meeting on Coruscant and her summons to Kilmainham Brook had come as soon as she had returned.

    “Of course,” Ayn said, “What can we do for you?”

    The former Chancellor gave a little smile, but said nothing for a moment, as she looked at her daughter in-law. “Your grandmother raised you well, Ayn.”

    “I hope I will be a credit to her,” Ayn said.

    Kerry nodded. “For the moment, please wait here.” She turned to look at her daughter.

    “I need to talk to Falene first.”

    Those words struck something inside of Falene. She suddenly felt…uncertain, worried. She complied and walked across the room to follow her mother into the study.

    The door shut behind her.

    TAG: @CPL_Macja
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  19. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 9
    Yes, despite it seeming like it's not related to Limmie, you'll see why soon enough. ;)

    IC: Adanna Inviere
    Bistro de Midtown, Midtown, Coruscant: Balcony Seating

    Adanna took a sip of the champagne in her glass. It probably was one of the most sparkly champagnes she had ever had, and the price tag was likely just as exquisite. Placing the glass down, she stared across the table at Maff Biskis. The long-haired forward had cleaned up his face nicely, his long blonde locks tied back in a ponytail and his face clean-shaven, although it sometimes had stubble on it during the season. He was wearing a suit and tie, while she was wearing a long, cool black dress that cut her figure nicely. The two of them were spending the night out on the town; they had caught a movie earlier, and now were sitting here at the Bistro de Midtown, which was one of the glitziest restaurants in all of Midtown Coruscant. Adanna had been fine with sitting inside the restaurant, which was in itself very comfortable, but Maff had insisted on sitting out here on the balcony. There were three small tables on the balcony, the other two also occupied. It wasn’t a large space, but the view of Coruscant’s skyline and never-ending streams of traffic made for a surreal view.

    “This is nice,” Adanna commented. “I hope it won’t cost an arm and a leg, this meal.”

    “Eh, I think I can afford one or two meals here,” Maff said with a shrug. “Even on my salary.”

    “I think you’re making more credits than the average worker, you know,” Adanna quipped. “A lot more.”

    “You feel guilty about me paying for all this and not splitting the check?” Maff asked.

    Adanna just smirked. “Nah, I’ll let you pay for it all. I’m just here for the ride.”

    “I must say, you have a beautiful smile,” Maff said. “It’s one of the things I like the most about you.”

    “Thank you,” Adanna said. “You don’t look half-bad yourself.”

    “Nitpicky as ever,” Maff commented.

    “So, you probably want to ask me how things are progressing with the team, correct?” Adanna asked.

    “I was going to try and keep that out of this, but hey, you’re here. I’m on the team. I’d like to know,” Maff said.

    “We hired Telena Perrette a few weeks ago,” Adanna said. “Back before the season ended. It will be interesting to see how the defense does with her at the helm. She has a good defensive pedigree, so I hope that can only mean good things for the team moving forwards.”

    “Can’t be worse than last year,” Maff said as he sipped his own champagne.

    “That defense cost us several games, so it was time for a change,” Adanna said. “I would like to think that we could surprise some people next season, but we need to figure things out in the Back Six first before we can use them to win games.”

    “I take it that we’re keeping the offensive units intact?” Maff asked.

    “For the most part, yes. Gark and I have been talking about a few cuts from the Front Six . . .”

    “I hope my name wasn’t brought up in those discussions,” Maff said. His demeanor had gotten darker.

    “Of course not,” Adanna said. “You were thinking for a moment that I insisted on coming here to inform you that we were cutting you loose? You seem a little jittery.”

    “Limmie is a business. I get that. But I like it here. We have a good unit,” Maff said.

    “We intend to keep you,” Adanna said. “You showed the team proud in that Chandrila game, scoring those late goals to help give us the edge. I’ll tell you know, I was celebrating more than anyone after that second score . . .”

    “It’s too bad I couldn’t pitch in more in the Bakura loss,” Maff said.

    “You did what you could. We just came up short, but don’t feel too bad about it. The Miners got ripped to shreds by the Monarchs the next week, so we might have been fed into the grinder had we made it. Besides, you did all you could. The Miners just wanted it more.”

    “Shouldn’t be that way,” Maff said. “We wanted that game pretty badly.”

    “Sometimes you just have to let games go,” Adanna said. “Look forward to next season. With any luck, you might be starting across from Persnor and Chary.”

    “I would like that,” Maff said. “But I’m going to have to work my ass off for it.”

    “I didn’t say it was going to be easy,” Adanna replied. “But I think it would be prudent to give you the advice now to work on your game this offseason. I hear that Christine Gamble might try to set up some offseason workouts with her friends. You might want to join in. If that’s not your speed, maybe someone else on this team is willing to be a workout partner this offseason . . .”

    “OK, so what about you?” Maff asked. “I mean, we’re out dating, so why not work out over the offseason?”

    “That’s not what I meant, silly,” Adanna said, a smile coming to her face. “I meant someone actively playing on the team.”

    “You just had to shoot me down,” Maff said, shaking his head.

    “Thanks for the offer, though,” Adanna said. “It reminds me of what it was like when I was playing.” She sighed and took another sip of the champagne, then stared out at the skyline. “It really is beautiful out here tonight. I’m glad you pushed for us to get a balcony seat. This is truly spectacular.”

    “I thought you’d like it,” Maff said. “You know, even though I’m not from Coruscant, I never get tired of looking out of my apartment window at all this,” he said, motioning to the skyline with his hands. “It’s just something that rubs off on you, ya know?”

    “I know what you mean,” Adanna said. Coruscant, despite being bustling, had something special to it, a quality that couldn’t easily be explained but had to be experienced first-hand instead.

    “And it’s why I would like to stick around here for a few more years. Play a few more seasons, hopefully win a Conference championship, maybe a Cup . . . who knows what the future will bring?” Maff said.

    “The future is a funny thing,” Adanna commented. “You know what a wise man once said. ‘The future is always in motion’, or something like that. We can only take charge of our future if we act upon it.”

    “I think we can do great things next year. We just need to put all the pieces together,” Maff said. “All those rookies on the roster at the end of the season . . . they look talented. We might be able to build a good defense yet.”

    “I certainly hope you’re right,” Adanna said. “I’ve never taken losing well. In my playing career, or in my personal life.”

    “The only way to go is up now,” Maff added. “We’ve got a decent offense, and hopefully those rookies can fill in on defense next year. Only problem will be . . .”

    “Experience?”

    “I was just going to say that!” Maff exclaimed. “How . . .?”

    “Trust me, when you work with Gark S’rily in the front office, he starts to rub off on you,” Adanna explained. “All those quirky ideas of his? Work with him for a few years, and you almost start thinking alike on certain issues.”

    “That sounds a little weird,” Maff said.

    “Tell me about it,” Adanna commented. “But don’t get any ideas. Just because I work with him doesn’t mean he makes all the decisions. I have a few things of my own to say.”

    Maff just chuckled. “Gotcha. But, tell me. What offensive weapons do we have coming up through the system? What am I up against?”

    “Got a few interesting half prospects,” Adanna said. “A draft pick, and a few free agent signees. Of course, one of them might move over to full so that we keep everything intact.”

    “Sounds like I need to bust my ass this offseason to make sure that I have a starting spot in my future,” Maff commented.

    “I wouldn’t worry about your future just yet. Take in the moment,” Adanna said.

    “Well, if we don’t worry about our futures, then what is there to work towards?” Maff challenged.

    “Good point,” Adanna said.

    At this point, their food came. It was a decadent-looking meal, even from a place called “Bistro”. The next twenty minutes were spent chatting about various Limmie things, and when they were done, Adanna had to excuse herself to use the refresher. She hadn’t told Maff about her interview with the Hapes C-Bucs; he didn’t need to know about those. If they came to nothing, then there was no point in saying anything. But what if she was offered the job? Could she really leave Coruscant now, after all the organization had done for her? Would she be able to handle the pressure of being the full GM of a team instead of just the assistant GM?

    When she returned to the table, dessert had arrived, yet Maff had decided to wait for her to return before eating his. “You didn’t start eating?” she asked.

    “I figured it was better to wait,” Maff said. “I don’t want to be a slob.”

    The Hapan reached out for her fork after sitting down. However, she could feel a bump in the napkin that had been placed to the left of her plate. That was weird; she hadn’t noticed that before . . . had she hidden her fork under there by accident? Sometimes napkins could easily conceal utensils if you didn’t open them up correctly.

    Adanna began to unravel the napkin, looking rather silly as she went. Finally she got the napkin unwrapped, and still hadn’t found that confounded fork. She tried to find it on the table, but then her eyes fixed upon a small box, about an inch square on both sides, as she searched. It couldn’t be, she thought, and then her eyes shot up to face Maff, who had a smirk on his face.

    “Wha . . . I . . .” she said.

    “Come on, open it up,” Maff said. The Hapan slowly followed this suggestion, and opened the box. Inside was a shiny silver ring, with a small diamond stud at the very top. Adanna couldn’t believe it; this was really happening. She looked up to Maff once more; he had that same smirk on his face.

    “I think the future of the team is important, but so are ours. And I’d like to share that future with you. Will you marry me?”

    Now Adanna was really conflicted. Should she say yes? Should she wait on it? How would Maff take rejection? Probably not the worst way, but you never knew. She liked him, maybe really loved him if she really let herself go that far, but could she do that? She had always been a stoic character, unwilling to let others really know how she felt on things. She was independent, strong-willed, and had a lot of character. But this decision right here could mean many things. Could she bring herself to let her defenses down and learn to love?

    What about the Hapes situation? Could she accept this offer and then go off to her homeworld and work there? Wouldn’t she be living two lives at that point? As in the Holos, that never worked out well. Maff had no idea that the C-Bucs job was open for her if she interviewed well enough. How would he take it if she was hired on there and left town, perhaps forever?

    But then she remembered the prior holiday season, when she had felt blue. There had been no one who understood her, no one there to tell her that she wouldn’t be alone forever. She had needed a hand to stay cheery at that time, and Maff had stepped in. He was shy, yes, but he cared enough to get her out of the dumps of holiday blandness and into a friendly relationship. Was this a giant step forward? Yes. But could she turn him down? She had found a friend in him, someone who really understood her, someone who was willing to be patient with her analytical, often critical, mind. That didn’t happen often. This scruffy-looking guy had it in him to be there when she needed a friend.

    Finally, it came down to whether she knew she could wait on this. What if Maff never asked her again? Then would she live the rest of her life wishing she had accepted? But what if things didn’t work out? She couldn’t be too hasty . . . but she couldn’t wait all the time in the galaxy either . . . ring or freedom? Friend or complete independence? An old or new Adanna Inviere?

    Adanna sighed. Maff’s expression became more anxious by the moment, because he wasn’t sure if this was going to work. Then Adanna blinked, and she opened her mouth to speak.

    “I . . . I . . .” she said. It was now or never.

    “Yes.”

    Maff looked greatly relieved as he slumped back in his chair a little bit. That had been an intense wait, an agonizingly long decision-making span. Adanna reached down and plucked the ring out of the box carefully with two fingers. She then inspected it closely in the dim light, watching the lights of the Coruscanti skyline play across the diamond. It was truly a spectacular sight. “How much did you pay for this?” she asked. “It’s beautiful.”

    “Probably more than I should have,” Maff said, blushing slightly.

    “That good, hunh?” Adanna asked. “Well, I guess there’s only one thing to do now.” She took the two fingers and slid the ring onto her finger. It was a nice snug fit . . . how had Maff ever known? “Now I feel official.”

    “And now I can eat my dessert,” Maff said, smirking once more. He picked up his fork from the table.

    “Dig in,” Adanna said. Although the dessert didn’t last long, Adanna had a funny feeling like it was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

    When they were done at the restaurant, Maff drove Adanna home. When the speeder pulled up to Adanna’s condo building, he killed the engine. “I thought for a moment there that you wouldn’t accept,” he said.

    “It’s a big decision,” Adanna commented. “But I know I made the right one.” She kissed Maff and got out of the speeder. “I’ll be in touch.” The speeder slowly pulled away from the curb, and Adanna watched it go into the darkness of the night.

    When she got ready for bed, she continued to stare at the ring as she brushed her teeth and removed some of her makeup. It was so shiny . . . and yet it felt like it was about time to have one. She felt relieved that she had made this decision, felt comfortable with her logic and reasoning. Even though it wasn’t official just yet, a new chapter of her life was opening, and she had no idea where it would take her.

    She crawled into her bed and tried to sleep. But new thoughts continued to pester her. What if the C-Bucs offered her the GM position? She had now gone down a path where there was no going back from. Maff had offered a bright future for her, but now she felt like that could make things worse. She wanted to be with Maff, but . . . something was holding her back. If she got that GM job, could she in good faith move back to Hapes? Men were treated like dirt there, and Maff likely wouldn’t take too kindly to that. Could he really be happy there, especially if he was still playing for the Senators? Could she live here with him despite being the GM on a distant planet? What was Meredith Chambers-Vayne doing? There were rumors floating about that she was going to interview for the Hapes coaching job. Would that force her to move back to the Cluster? Would Adanna have to do the same thing, because the GM was a very important job? The Hapan people demanded a successful franchise, and that would require months of strenuous work to try and provide. Could she live out of a suitcase, with a fractured home life split between Hapes and wherever she and Maff would settle down? Could she find a way to not live on Hapes the entire year? Could Maff etch out a life on Hapes with her without being the butt of all jokes?

    And for the first time in her life Adanna Inviere cursed the Hapan matriarchal bias. What had once been an obvious fact of life in the Cluster was now in the way of her future. She finally fell asleep, but knew she was going to be troubled with these questions and more if the C-Bucs job was ever offered to her.




    IC: Gark S'rily

    "Sir, I bring news from Ms. Inviere," an assistant said to Gark as the Bothan sat at the Holo terminal at his home. He was calling in to work today to see what was going on, but Adanna hadn't responded to his calls.

    "What?" the Bothan asked.

    "She and Maff Biskis have just gotten engaged," the assistant said.

    Gark twiddled his fingers as he thought this through. First off, he was surprised to hear that the Hapan had taken the plunge like this, especially when the whole relationship had been started by his own hand. But that wasn't the biggest issue in play. It was no secret that Adanna was in the running for the Hapes job. He didn't want to lose her to a Conference rival, if at all. Now Biskis was his only chance to keep the former Half Back on Coruscant . . .


    TAG: No One in particular, but @Trieste and @Vehn might find these developments important ;)
    Last edited by Jedi Gunny, Apr 1, 2014
  20. Vehn Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 14, 2009
    star 4
    IC: Lars Steelhead
    275 ABY, Construction of New Six Boroughs

    One steel girder at a time, check and double-check, piece by piece, sparks flying, men cursing as they worked up a good sweat, balancing on a high beam, careful, watch where you step Lars, there we go, drill here, recut there, yeah, looking good.

    Lars felt the fierce wind of the Vertical City whip around him as the massive construction firm he worked for followed Kaitlyn Vehn’s directive of not a moment of rest, of keeping on schedule, of pushing man and machine beyond their limits, of completing the stadium that was to be the home of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. He had a good crew under his command. Reggie was right next to him helping him fit another girder into place, the smell of combustion engines hit his nostrils hard as cranes assisted with the heavy lifting. This work felt good, was not for the faint at heart, somehow spoke to his soul that with every bolt he drilled into the structure, with every tired fiber of his being, he was building something that would stand the test of time.

    A stadium of this size and caliber had never been built in such a hurry before. Most corners weren’t cut but Lars had spent enough time in the business to know that certain protocols were not being followed so that the stadium was going to be ready for the scheduled friendly game with the Bakura Miners at the start of the season. The Limmie off-season was usually such a painful affair for him, especially when the Galactic Cup came and went, and even if the Smugglers didn’t make it to the big dance every year he felt a twinge of sadness rise up in him as another season drew to a close and the doldrums of the year set in with the agonizing wait for the draft and free agency.

    The men were working at such a fast pace, such a sharp clip, that safety protocols were ignored, that even the general awareness that came with working on a construction site was dimmed so as to pursue the end goal of creating a beautiful new home for the beloved team. Lars was fine with working hard, he was fine with cutting corners, so long as they didn’t violate the structural integrity of the stadium, and he encouraged his guys to forgo their breaks, their lunches, to get yet another section of Six Boroughs completed. That kind of work environment fostered mistakes. That kind of work environment fostered fatigue on a level that could be dangerous.

    “Slicer, six o’clock,” Reggie shouted to the men who were clipped into the structure, a staggering 160 feet above the newly sown Limmie pitch.

    Lars knew what he meant. A droid, one of those heavy loaders, with a laser cutter installed, was about ready to lay another girder. That meant that everyone had to get the hell out of the way or they’d be crushed. Everyone knew the drill. Everyone knew their places. The skilled construction crew stepped off their perch and to safety as the droid lowered the new girder into place, activated the laser to cut it to size, and then zoomed off. The droid must’ve been impatient as well because Lars noticed the weld wasn’t strong enough, hadn’t been properly reinforced. That would have to be fixed. The crews only had six minutes in between each girder drop. A narrow window. A dangerous window. The wind picked up and the construction crew, so used to routine, so used to the way things were done, stepped onto the newly installed girder to reinforce.

    “Stay off that girder!” Lars yelled over the wind.

    Reggie looked back at Lars, saw concern in the man’s eyes, and motioned for the crew to back off. One man either didn’t hear or was so tired from working a 12 hour shift that he wasn’t paying attention. Lars watched helplessly as the girder screeched, buckled, and then gave way. Lars tried to dive after the man as he fell but his safety restraints held him back and he narrowly missed the man’s outstretched hands. Steelhead watched in horror as the man screamed in fear and panic to his miserable end.
    Lars stared where the man had fallen, where the girder had been, and fought back tears. The big man who worked in the rough and tumble industry of construction hated losing people to accidents, hated working on such a tight schedule, and now would have to explain to the foreman what had happened.

    Reggie placed a worn hand on Lars shoulder and said, “Let it go, Lars. Let it go.”

    Lars wiped tears from his eyes and tore his mind from the deceased man as he looked back at the crew. “Let that be a lesson to all of you. You don’t step on the frakking girders until the bolts and welds are secured. I do not want to lose another man today, got that? Let’s get back to work.”

    Reluctantly, slowly, the crew returned as a new girder was brought to replace the one that had fallen away.

    Lars couldn’t help but think that this death would not be the last in the construction of Six Boroughs stadium.




    276 Playoffs, New Vertica, Nar Shaddaa

    “I see,” Kaitlyn said as she talked on her comm. “I had no knowledge of these events. Nobody told me that people died building Six Boroughs. Yes, the crews were working hard, they had to, we had a game a couple of months out from the accident. I understand the family is upset. No, I didn’t encourage the unions-“

    The voice on the other end of the comm cut her off.

    “They have me on record saying that I’ll take care of the unions?”

    The voice said something else.

    “Well you tell your clients that they can speak to my lawyers. No, I will not settle outside of court. I will not silence them with money. What happened was terrible, anyone can see that. I see. Fine. We’ll have a preliminary meeting when the season
    concludes,” Kaitlyn said and hung up.

    She buried her face in her hands. This wasn’t going to go quietly into the night. The game against the Storm was only a few days away and now scandal rocked the front office of the Smugglers. There never was a good time for bad news. Kaitlyn grabbed a
    signed bolo-ball from when the team had won the Commissioner’s Trophy and threw it against the far wall of her office. Her secretary poked her head in and asked, “Everything okay, Miss Vehn?”

    “Frakking fine,” Kaitlyn groaned.
    Last edited by Vehn, Apr 1, 2014
    CPL_Macja, jcgoble3, Trieste and 2 others like this.
  21. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    HSN Morning Headlines
    • Coruscant Senators hire former Rebels head coach Telena Perrette to fill DC vacancy
    • Patriots' shareholder meeting concludes with Kether still head coach and GM of organization
    • ELL releases statement regarding Six Boroughs lawsuit, says it is "local matter" and they will not become involved
    • HSN columnist calls ELL statement evidence of "hypocrisy": "The league pushes for new stadiums across the galaxy and then when something goes wrong, teams are left holding the bag."
    TAG: @Jedi Gunny @Vehn
    Vehn and jcgoble3 like this.
  22. Bardan_Jusik Mand'alor - Manager of the EUC, SWC and Spinoffs

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Dec 14, 2009
    star 10


    IC: Jonathan "Johnny Limmie" Lieznam (NPC)
    Keldabe Clinic Medical Center, Keldabe, Mandalore.

    "Remember to breathe," the words came through the darkness to Johnny as he pumped his legs with everything he had. "If you don't breathe there is no way you will pass this diagnostic." Johnny opened his eyes now, the unwelcome sight of a T-visor staring him down greeted him. Still straining, he made sure to let go with an exagerated breath. Of course he knew to breathe during these things, he was Johnny Limmie, and he always knew what he was doing.

    "That's better aruetii..." the orange and grey clad Mandalorian trailed off for a moment, before mumbling to himself in his native language. Johnny had learned enough in his one season spent on this world that he was probably looking over data from this test on some sort of display in his helmet. Johnny didn't know how they wore those things everywhere, he knew he could never do any sort of work wearing a bucket over his head all the time.

    "OK, aruetii," gods damn Johnny hated being called that. Didn't they know who he was here? Of course they did, he was Johnny Limmie, everyone knew who he was. Still it irked him to be called...that. The doctor (medic? nurse? Johnny really didn't know) continued on, unaware, and probaly uncaring about the bolo ball player's concerns. "You've passed every test we have for you. You'll be cleared medically to play. We'll inform the coaching staff."

    Johnny interrupted, "and they will make the decision on whether I play against the Lighning or not." He had been through this once before in his short career and already knew the drill. The doctor didn't seem to be taken aback by the intrusion though, he simply nodded "You may get dressed now," and he left the exam room.

    Johnny slowly got dressed, his knee still hurt a little from his previous injury, though he hadn't told the doctor that. He really wasn't sure if he would have cared about that anyway. These Mandos were nuts, crazier even than he was. Well at least they loved their limmie he thought as he buttoned up his shirt. They seemed to appreciate him as well as a player, his brash attitude and cockiness made him a fan favorite he knew. Or maybe it was the way he was willing to put his body on the line to make a spectacular play. Or maybe it was something else. In any case he had come to be accepted by the Mercs fans, even if he was still an aruetii.

    He left the exam room and started to walk down the short hallway when a door to his right opened suddenly and his doctor (or at least another Mandalorian in similar armor) stepped out. Crying could be heard coming from within the room but the Doctor closed it quickly. "Hi doc, everything OK?" Lieznam asked, indicating the door. The Mandalorian paused for a moment, perhaps confused as to what Johnny was talking about before he answered.

    "Ahh yes, the crying. A child got severely injured at a construction site. The Mother is...upset." The Mando (it was his doctor after all) started walking towards the front of the clinic and Johnny fell in behind him. "Is he going to be OK?" The doctor stopped and turned around slowly staring at Johnny once again through his T-Visor, but spoke no words before turning back around and walking through a door marked for staff only. Johnny stood there for a moment, looking at where the doctor had been standing and then back to the child's room, tears forming in his eyes. The door opened again and a slender man, a human, walked out closing it quietly behind him he leaned against the wall. Jonhny assumed it was the boy's father.

    He wiped the tears from his eyes and approached the man, whose own red rimmed eyes revealed all that Johnny needed to know. "I..." he started to stammer. "If..ther...." He really didn't know what to say, but the man looked up at him, recognition in his eyes. "You're Johnny Limmie. My son is a huge Mercs fan...it would mean so much to him...to us...if you would go in there and see him." Johnny nodded his head silently and together he and the boy's father walked into the room.




    Visitor's locker room, Peace City Gardens, Ylesia

    Here it was, the final game of the season and the Mercs were playing for nothing. Nothing but their own pride. They had missed out on the playoffs the past two seasons, going 4-5 in each, and after last weeks collapse against the hated Smugglers, were in danger of finishing with that same 4-5 record for a third straight year. That of course was made worse by the fact that they had already been eliminated from playoff contention. Their opponents had no such problem, they had already secured a playoff berth and now were only playing for seeding. Lieznam didn't know if they would rest their starters or not for this matchup. With a playoff berth already secured it would be a fireable offense for a coach to get a star player injured out on the field. But there was a (slim) chance that they could miss out on hosting playoff game should they lose to the Mercs. Johnny knew what he would do if he were in charge over there, he would play to win, but he never was one for playing it safe. He shrugged as he pulled his jersey on, it didn't really matter what the Lightning coaching staff did, the Mercs were here to take care of their own business.

    He looked around at the players, all going through their own pre-game routines. Some sat quietly in front of their lockers, others played sabacc or some other games. Mor'kesh and Daryc were playing some board game involving knives and stabbing and not a small amount of boisterous shouting. The team all seemed loose, and why shouldn't they be? They weren't really playing for much today, though he knew ending the season with a winning record was on everyone's mind. Even if they did miss out on the playoffs that was something they could all hang their hats (well buckets in the Mando's case) on. But they could be playing for so much more Johnny knew. He got up and stood on a table in the center of the locker room, coughing loudly so everyone looked to see what he was up to.

    "I know this is the end of the year for us all, and we all want to go out this season as winners," he began. "But I wanted to let you all know about someone I met this past week at the MedCenter, a little boy who has given this team a lot. A little boy..."

    He continued on telling them all who Jacen was, and what he needed them all to do. By the time his short speech was over there were few dry eyes in the house, and those that weren't wiping away tears had the determined look of warriors on their faces. This was a game that they would not, could not, lose. Not only for themselves, but for Jacen.




    IC: Beskaryc Taab (The Iron Mand'alor)
    Team offices, Keldabe, manda'yaim

    Taab rubbed at his chin as he stood behind his desk. Upon it sat his buy'ce, taken off in a frustrated attempt to make the constant reports go away, and of course flimsi copies of those same reports. Reports that he knew would never go away. He was spending a lot to bring the Galactic Cup Finals back to Manda'yaim, and construction of the many venues and accommodations for the aruetii savages that would be on world had fallen far, far behind. Of course the fact that despite finishing with a winning record the Mercs would be missing out on the playoffs for a third straight year, and have no chace at playing for a cup in front of the home fans, also irked him.

    "Bah" he exclaimed to himself throwing a sheaf of flimsi across the room. They had gone with the lowest bidders of course on the numerous construction contracts needed, and now those off world (there were few on world construction companies to choose from) and now those chosen were nearly all going over time, and over budget. It was infuriating. Taab considered whether "Mandalorian contingency plans" would have to be brought to bear to bring things back on schedule. Yes that might help. His thoughts were interrupted by the common his desk buzzing.

    "Lord Mand'alor, there is someone here to see you." Taab let that statement hang there for a moment, his bodyguard on the other end of the line getting the hint. "It's a twi'lek woman by the name of...Ra'kel Felps." The name was familiar to Taab, he had known her late husband, a man of considerable wealth. "Show her in..."


    TAG: No one.


    [IMG]
    Last edited by Bardan_Jusik, Apr 2, 2014
    jcgoble3, Jedi Gunny and Runjedirun like this.
  23. Runjedirun Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 2012
    star 6




    When I built this house I had no idea how little time I’d actually get to spend in it. Of all the rooms in the house we used the theater the least. In theory it sounded great to have a place to retreat and watch a holo with my wife alone. In theory it sounded nice to drop everything and catch a holo by myself or share one with my children. We moved into the house when Lucie was 2 and Richard was just a baby. I never imagined we were going to have 4 more kids. I never thought about how much time I would be spending on all my investments. At first I thought I would be handing over much of the work to people I hired. I quickly discovered how few people you could trust and ended up working on or overseeing most of the projects myself.


    When I did get a moment of free time I discovered I would much rather put that time into making myself better. The importance of hard work and exercise had been drilled into me as a teen who attended a military school. If I missed an opportunity to work out I would beat myself up over it. That’s why I had the swimming pool added on and the gym expanded a few years after we moved in. I found myself steering the children in the same direction. I had yelled at the children more than I cared to admit when I found them sitting watching the holo or playing games on their data pads. So the theater sat unused. Bat’s therapist only came an hour every other day now. He had time on his hands and I gave him the task of getting the theater ready for the team on game day, which he put off until the morning of the game.


    That morning I found Spencer programming a cleaning droid at the breakfast table. “Hi dad, I know you don’t like it when we use droids much, but the theater is really dusty.”


    “That really shouldn’t be your concern. I assigned that task to your brother.”


    “He’s trying to update the sound system.”


    “Just as long as you’re not neglecting any schoolwork,” I said with a firm look.


    Spencer ate quickly and retreated from the table when my data pad alerted me that someone was asking permission to enter our gate. I switched over to the security cam and was surprised to see Teaspoon giving me a wave. I allowed the gate to open and headed for the front door, so I could let her in.


    Instead of heading back to the theater Spencer followed me to see who was on the other side of the door. As soon as I opened it I was hit with a series of roars and growls. “She says she would like to come in and help your wife prepare the food for this afternoon.” Spencer translated.


    Caught off guard I turned and gave Spencer a confused look. Then realized he had his data pad open to a program that was translating the Shyriiwook.


    “Don’t you watch HSN, Dad? Teaspoon is a great chef. That’s how she got her nickname it’s a form of measurement often used in the kitchen.”


    “Wait here.” I told the young Wookiee and went to find my wife. She hadn’t been planning to cook for an entire Limmie team. She told me that as long as Spencer got the cleaning droid working the goal keeper was welcome to use our kitchen though.


    I went back and explained to Teaspoon that if she wanted the kitchen was hers. She thanked me and retreated to her speeder before returning with a few bags full of ingredients. Within an hour our home started to smell like a gourmet restaurant. By the time the rest of the team arrived to watch the game I was starving.


    The team arrived about 15 minutes before game time. They were freshly showered, as they had just finished a several hour practice session. Their appetites were ferocious. They greedily lined up for Teaspoon’s home cooked meal and took their food in to watch the game. I hoped the droid Spencer fixed was going to be able to handle all the clean-up.


    I held my own boys back, allowing them to get food once the team was already seated. I sat in the back row next to Tomas who was visibly upset he couldn’t be sitting with the team. Once the Monarchs took a solid lead and it became seemingly obvious who the Starkillers would be facing next week Tomas pulled out his data pad and started to play a game on it. I snatched it from him. He gave me a hurt look so I took him out in the hall to talk.


    “You want to play Limmie professionally one day, don’t you?” I asked.


    Enthusiastically he nodded his head yes.


    “Well then,” I began “You are going to be watching a lot of it too. Coach Till wouldn’t dare allow any of his players to take an eye off this game and I’m not going to let you do that either. Study the Monarchs offense, figure out what you could do at midfield to stop them. Put yourself in that game, that’s what those players are doing. It’s how they’ll hopefully know how to win next week. You got me?”


    I got another enthusiastic nod, so I led him back in to the theater to watch the rest of the game.


    The next morning I ventured into Bat’s room large cup of caf in hand and woke him. “Instead of lounging around here doing nothing all day today, I thought you might like to come to the stadium and help out.” I explained as he sat up in bed.


    He accepted the cup of caf with a confused look on his face. Took a long slow sip, “What?” he asked.


    “I want you to come to the stadium with me.” I repeated. “There’s got to be something you can help out with and in return I’ll pay for you to take more classes when they start up next week.”


    “You never let up, do you?” He asked.


    “Never,” I agreed.


    “Do I have a choice?”


    “You always have a choice. I was hoping maybe this experience had cured your thirst for adventure, at least for a while.” I said watching as he affixed a brace to his right leg. “Besides my house my rules, you want to live here you are going to further your education.”


    “You let Justyne live here,” he challenged.


    “We aren’t talking about your sister."



    “Can I live on campus? Will you put me up the way you do for Richard?”


    “If you pass the classes you sign up for this semester. Next semester I will pay for you to live on campus. You have a school in mind?”


    I think he was a little surprised I agreed to that one so quickly. It took him a minute to reply. “I’ll probably just go to Ralltiir U,” he said disenchanted.


    “They have on campus housing,” I reminded him. “It will be a good experience for you. So will being at the stadium today, hurry and get some breakfast.”


    We were almost late dropping off Tomas and Spencer for school. I had forgotten that Zoey’s safety seat was in my speeder and had a heck of a time getting the straps undone so we would have enough seating for the four of us. When we got to the stadium I had Bat shadow me. The brace he was wearing on his leg enabled him to walk without the support of crutches now. We began with a walkthrough of the stadium. I showed him how I made note of every detail from glow panels that needed replacement to the solidarity of the guardrails on the upper levels. We had done quite a bit of walking by the time we were finished. I asked how his leg was holding up and he assured me it was fine.


    After grabbing some lunch we visited the production team that was putting together the sound and visual effects that would be necessary for this week’s coming game. I could tell Bat was interested in how the sound board worked. Sensing that I had found a place for him I took the lead producer aside and explained that I wanted him to let Bat watch and learn as much as he could for the rest of the day. If all went well, the rest of the week.


    At the end of the week the producer came to me to ask if the starting line-up had time to rehearse their introductions. I had no idea what the players would need to rehearse, their name was called they ran on the field. So I asked. I hadn’t realized that when I left my son in the sound room the producer thought that meant my son was somehow in charge. The simple player introductions had become a production.


    Immediately I took a look at what the program entailed. That evening I had what I had planned to be a simple conversation with Bat turn into a heated argument. I allowed him to keep several of his ideas, in the end some had to be cut though. I knew coach Till was not going to be pleased to have even a couple veterans learn and follow a script for pre-game introductions. We did it anyway though and I was pleased with the final draft.


    Richard came in to the spaceport only a few hours before the game started. It was difficult to arrange, but I managed to be the one to pick him up. I wanted to make sure he heard it from me that Bat would be in the sound booth during most of the game. I also told him that I’d allow him to tag along on scouting trips and come to the draft if he wanted. He accepted that offer without hesitation.


    Our box was full that evening. I had invited Ty’s parents and Andres’ family to join us. Andres had two sisters that made the trip one with a husband and daughter about the same age as Zoey. I made sure both girls were secured in an adults lap as the warm up clock wound down to zero. We watched as the Monarchs took the field. Our fans respectful to all but Cynour who received a chorus of boos. Once the Monarchs were all out on field the stadium went dark.




    LET’S GET FIRED UP!


    Fireballs began to rise up from the goal posts and disappear harmlessly into the air above. “Gentle beings,” the announcer began. “Presenting your 276 Solo Conference Regular Season Champion Ralltiir Starkillers.”


    A spotlight appeared in the middle of the field in it stood the dance team, led by Lucie. The girls raised their pom poms to the delight of the fans. They ran to the tunnel opening and formed two lines the players would run through as they were introduced. The second and third string players in full uniform ran out onto the field first and headed for the bench. “And now your starting line-up,” the announcer continued. The lights went back out and the jumbo screen lit up. A video of Teaspoon making her first diving save of the season back on week 2 against Nar Shadda was shown, “#29 Goalkeeper from Ralltiir University Teaspoon.” The Wookiee came running out of the tunnel full speed. She high fived the reserves and took her position standing in front of the bench.


    Sunrider appeared on screen making a block against Qorbus during this season’s game against the Senators. “#18 Right Corner Back from Orn Free Ta Central Academy Jace Sunrider.” The Bith ran out taking his spot in line next to Teaspoon. All eyes turned back to the jumbo screen as an image of Poletin appeared, the image of Dev helping to block that final shot in the game against Rydonni Prime on week 8. “#46 Full Back from Coruscant Polytechnic Institute Dev Poletin.” Dev ran out to a loud chorus of cheers.


    Ty’s image appeared on the jumbo screen. He was smashing the ball with his head in an effort to pass the ball out to Hovechar in this year’s match up against the Lightning. Then the jumbo screen focused on Lucie. She kissed her hand and blew the kiss towards the tunnel. “#8 Left Corner Back from Ralltiir University Ty Allin.” Ty ran out of the tunnel and leaped into the air to catch the kiss from his wife.


    Ikell’s image appeared on the jumbo screen. She was shown recovering a fumble during week 6 against the Patriots. “#33 Right Half Back from Druckenwell Technical University Loma Ikell.” After Ikell ran out our attention was grabbed once again by the jumbo screen. An image of Sen appeared; she was intercepting a pass back on week 1 against the Storm. The remaining players in the tunnel appeared on the jumbo screen. A close up of Keli Sen was shown, a brace on her knee. She grabbed it and tore it off before she began to run out on field “#52 Center Half Back from Royal College of Hapes Keli Sen.” Lighting up again the jumbo screen showed an image of #41 stealing the ball away from Aron Rodders of the Miners during week 7. “#41 Left Half Back from Kothlis National University Hac Sichi.”


    Wai Lin of the C-Buccs was shown on the jumbo screen moving the ball up field when Ye’ves’toung swooped in to make a steal. “#25 Midfielder from Brask Yashuvhi University Ye’ves’toung.” The jumbo screen lit up again. An image of Hovechar driving the ball up field on Agamar during week 4 appeared. “#37 Midfielder from Coruscant Polytechnic Institute Alyda Hovechar.”


    On screen Frokabukk was shown dishing off an assist to Jul during the game against Nar Shadda. “#59 Right half Forward College of Deredith & Millicent Frokabukk.” Next up Lightcin was shown putting a goal past Kasin Urdaaza. “#44 Center Half Forward from Taanab A&M Leann Lightcin.” Abe Cynour’s mug came up on the screen next, the crowd booed loudly. Then the shot widened showing Flarn taking a shot on goal in the game against Rydonni Prime. It flew past Cynour and the crowd went nuts. “#34 Left Half Forward College of Fondorelphia Flarn.”


    Again Cynour appeared on screen, this time when the shot widened Jul ran in and put a bolo ball over his head, into the goal. “#21 Right Corner Forward from Royal College of Hapes Loren Jul.” Cynour came up once again on screen, he was sweating in this scene it was late in the game against the Monarchs. Marmu ran into the picture and kicked the bolo just out of his reach into the goal. “#23 Full Forward from GVSU Marmu Ishana.” The crowd knew what was coming. Fortune’s figure appeared on screen thrusting the ball forcefully into the goal past Abe Cynour. “# 14 Left Corner Forward from UC Bella Vistal Andres Fortune.”


    Images of Till pacing the sidelines, throwing data pads, and finally celebrating the victory on Rydonni Prime. “Head coach Trey Till.”


    Tag @CPL_Macja
    Last edited by Runjedirun, Apr 2, 2014
  24. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    HSN Morning Headlines
    • Hapes Consortium Buccaneers announce the hiring of Adanna Inviere, Assistant GM of the Senators, as their new GM and Meredith Chambers-Vayne as new head coach
    • Chambers-Vayne to join C-Bucs after conclusion of Smugglers' season
    • UB Cape Suzette declines to renew contract of Mick Hancock; hires Petr Chrisen of Balmorra State University as new head coach
    • Preparations for hosting the Galactic Cup falling behind schedule on Mandalore
    • Hanson brothers to hold press conference on Nadiem tomorrow morning
    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @Jedi Gunny @Vehn
    Last edited by Trieste, Apr 3, 2014
  25. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 9
    IC: Adanna Inviere
    Coruscant Senators HQ, Day of Announcement

    “ . . . I have accepted the Hapes GM job,” Adanna said. Gark S’rily just sat there at his desk with an expressionless look on his face. His assistant GM was informing him that she was moving within the Conference to another team, which would leave him without his now-trusted backup GM. But he knew this might happen; it was all part of the business of Limmie. Although he knew he would never sign on with another team, he wasn’t sure about all of his coaches, staff, and other personnel. If they got a good offer, they might bolt. It was the way of sports.

    “I see,” Gark said. “Well, there’s nothing I can do to persuade you to stick around . . . have you gone over this with Maff? He might want to know.”

    “I’m going to. I just had to tell you first, since . . . since I wanted to say . . . thanks. Thanks for everything. You got me back into the game, and I really appreciate that. Now I get a chance to live out the dream for another few years. Just this time it won’t be on the field, or as an assistant.”

    “The pressure is going to be higher on you, you know,” Gark commented. “I can’t take the heat for you if you make mistakes.”

    “I know. But it was too good an offer to pass up,” Adanna said.

    Gark stood up. He reached out his hand, and Adanna returned the shake. “Shame to lose you, Adanna. You were getting the hang of things.”

    “If I ever win a Galactic Cup, or get into the Hall of Fame, I will definitely thank you for the support,” Adanna replied. “You really are the ‘Magic Bothan’ like they say you are, and I respect that.” She paused. “Well, I think it’s time I get going.”

    “Right,” Gark said. “However, before you go, I have something that might be of interest to you in your new job.” He handed the Hapan a piece of flimsy. “Consider this a chance to make a splash on your first day.”

    Adanna quickly read the note, and then looked back at the Bothan. “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll keep it in mind. I guess this is goodbye, then.”

    “I suppose it is,” Gark said. He followed the Hapan to the door, and then the two of them stepped out into the office lobby. “Well, I would say ‘good luck’, but since we’re rivals as of now, our teams . . .”

    Then the Bothan paused. Adanna looked to see what the cause of the stoppage was, and when she did, she could see Maff Biskis, her fiancé, standing in the doorway to the office. She had no idea he was here. He looked annoyed.

    “Maff, did you hear the news?” Gark asked.

    “Of course I heard the frakking news,” Maff said, frowning. “You took that job without ever telling me. I thought you were staying here.”

    “I thought you would find out,” Adanna said.

    “Not like this. You withheld information from me, willingly. I can’t accept that,” Maff said.

    “I’m sorry, Maff. I didn’t mean to . . .”

    “Mean to what? To leave town and leave me hanging? Here you got my hopes up so high that you were going to stick around, but instead you double-crossed me and decided to go get a job at a place that is inhospitable to me!”

    “I know Hapes is an issue for you. That’s why I . . .”

    “Forget it, I’m not interested,” Maff said. “You lied to me, you withheld information, and you knew all along that you were taking this other job. Did you even ask me if that was alright? No! You never asked for my opinion. I thought the whole idea of the engagement was to trust each other, to ask the other for opinions. But you decided that your own judgment was more important than mine. I can’t do this, Adanna. I can’t pretend like I don’t matter. If this is how you’re going to live your life, I don’t need you. Good bye,” he said, now getting out of the doorway and storming down the hall.

    Adanna stood there, completely shocked by what the forward had said to her. She had been dealing with those same questions ever since she had gotten engaged to Maff, but there was nothing telling her that he would react like this. And now her future was walking down the hall away from her, trying to avoid her if at all possible.

    “Nice job,” Gark commented.

    “Shut up,” Adanna said.

    “Don’t call me an expert on the situation, but I think it would be best for you two to try and make up for this divide. Otherwise, you may never have another chance.”

    Those words reverberated in Adanna’s mind. She had braced herself for a new future, but now those chances were slipping away. She had to act, and fast. Without saying another word, she chased after Maff, trying to flag the man down, try to get him to rethink his decision.

    She ran across the parking lot, just barely able to keep track of Maff’s blonde hair as he walked away in a huff. Finally he stopped at a speeder and tried to open the door, but the Hapan was able to track him down.

    “Maff, I need to talk to you,” she said.

    “There’s nothing to discuss, Adanna,” Maff said. “Nothing at all.”

    “I’m sorry. How many more times do I need to say that to you for you to believe me?”

    “You should have thought of that before you took that GM job without consenting with me. I thought the idea was that we were in this together, and you didn’t say anything.”

    “You’re right, I should have said something. But I can’t go back now, just forwards. Can’t you accept my apology?” Adanna asked.

    “No. You’ve crossed the lines, and I can’t . . .” Maff said, but Adanna kissed him so that he shut up. Maff’s handle on the driver-side door dropped, but the door was still open. Adanna reached her hand down and unlocked the back doors of the speeder using the button. Then, during the emotional kiss she was embraced in, she opened the back door and pushed Maff into the back seat, where they shared an act of reckless passion in the back of his speeder. Hopefully this would be enough to keep Maff on her side, Adanna reasoned.

    An hour later, Gark found Adanna wandering the halls of the HQ building. She looked somewhat disheveled, and her clothing was a bit rumpled. It took Gark a few moments to figure out what was going on, but when he did, all he had to say was this:

    “Bloody hell. You didn’t just make out with Maff, did you?”

    “So what if I did?” Adanna asked. “We . . . then had a chat. We’ve agreed that I’m going to still be GM for the C-Bucs, but that we’ll soon find a nice place to settle down. Maybe somewhere in between the Cluster and here, somewhere like Commenor. I hear it’s nice there this time of year.”

    “Well, whatever works for you, I guess,” Gark said. “Is there anything more you need of me?”

    “Nope,” the Hapan said. “Thanks for everything. The Limmie, the Cup . . . and the relationship with Maff. I really appreciate it.”

    “Just one thing before you go,” Gark said. “Make sure to send me an invite to your wedding, whenever that is.”

    “I didn’t think you were one for those sorts of things,” Adanna said.

    “I am if there’s free food,” Gark said with a wink.

    “That’s blackmail,” Adanna said.

    “Welcome to the new scene, Adanna,” Gark said. “Game on.”

    “Game on,” Adanna said as she walked out of Team HQ. A new chapter of her life was starting today, and she didn’t want to miss it.


    As soon as the Hapan left, Gark called up his coaching staff. “We need to discuss a few things . . .”

    TAG: No One

    Setting the stage for great things to come. :)
    Trieste, jcgoble3 and Vehn like this.
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