Star Wars OPEN Elite League Limmie

IC: Falene Trieste
Kabukk Stadium, Kashyyyk



The home locker room at Kabukk Stadium was paneled in richly stained wood, polished to a sheen. Falene hadn’t ever thought about what the Rangers’ locker room would look like, but now that she was sitting inside of it, she realized that if she had, this is what she thought it would look like. After all, wood was kind of Kashyyyk’s thing. As the team with the better record, the Miners had home field privileges for this Final. It was kind of sad that this could be the last such a beautiful facility would see of the Elite League for potentially a very long while.

The Miners would wear their home uniforms today, the rich dark blue and bright gold that they had worn in this very game, on a different world, two years ago. A patch commemorating that this jersey would be used in the 122nd Galactic Cup Final had been sewn onto the front of each jersey. No matter what, everyone who wore that jersey would be part of limmie history from this day forward. It would require winning for them to be remembered.

At the front of the locker room, Valerii had written some last minute notes on the vidscreen board.

“We’ve been over all of this before. Their top player is Lieznam,” Gaeriel said, tapping the board, which had Lieznam’s last name and his number at the top of it with a star next to it. It was still uncertain whether Lieznam would play, but he was such a transformational player that the Miners had to be ready if he did. “He averages about six, eight points a game. Horst, you’ve got to stick right with him.” Valerii was incredibly calm as she spoke these last reminders to her team. There weren’t any pregame jitters--in fact Valerii seemed more subdued than she should be with the championship just minutes away. “Behind him is Daryc. Their offense pivots around these guys. Pen them in. Contain them. Shut down their passing lanes. We have to play tough whistle to whistle. Outwork them. These guys just came from a blood bath so they think today is going to be roses and rainbows after Nar Shaddaa--but even roses have thorns.”

The locker room door slid open. “It’s time to head out,” someone on the stadium staff said.

Valerii turned, nodded, and gave a sign of acknowledgment with her hand before turning back to look at her team. “We’re way past big speech time,” Valerii said quietly as she sat down at the end of one of the benches next to Jolla, “I want to thank you for the last few months. They’ve been very special for me.”

Falene looked around the room at her team. Some of them, like Ward, had their eyes fixed on their coach. Others, like Fiesta, were looking down at the dark green carpet of the locker room, no doubt thinking about the fact that they were about to play the biggest game of their life. Falene’s eyes found the two veterans, the only two in this room who had been there in 271 and 275 and were still here now, Glencross and Rodders. Alana’s hands were clasped together and she was looking at them with intensity. Aron’s eyes, which had been on Valerii, now looked down at his cleats.

“Anybody have anything they want to say before we go out there and do our thing?” Valerii asked.

“Yeah,” Lizbit said, “Let’s win this one for the kids at the small schools, the Columbia Colleges of the galaxy, who never had a chance to get here.”

Valerii nodded at her goalkeeper. “Okay.”

“I want to win for my son,” Alana said, “I want him to be proud of his mom.”

“Let’s win for Coach Valerii and Coach Hulu,” Niskat said, “They got us here.”

“Let’s win for each other,” Falane piped up, “like we’ve done all season.”

“All right,” Valerii said, “It’s time.”

---

The Miners walked down the tunnel towards the open brightness that was the field. The time was growing near. Soon they would be beneath the lights and the noise. They would arrive at the heart of Elite League Limmie, the moment that every team aspired to every season, where only two could arrive and only one could leave.

Standing in the tunnel were Cundertol and his assistant GM Briar Throne. Though usually not the most friendly being on the team, Cundertol shook hands with each of his players as they passed by, wishing them luck. When Falene came to the Mighty Quinn, he gave her hand a firm clasp.

“Good luck, Taoiseach,” he said.

“I didn’t think you believed in luck,” Falene said with a smile, “What is it we say?”

“The universe is rarely so lazy,” the Smug Dragon replied with the hint of a smile.

“A team like this doesn’t come together on its own,” Falene said, “Thanks Quinn.”

“Go get them,” Briar said, shaking Falene’s hand.

“Thank you for what you do, Briar,” Falene said, “You make this happen by overseeing the day-to-day stuff.”

“Win another one for Bakura,” she said.

Falene continued her walk down towards the pitch when she was greeted by two more figures awaiting her. They were Mandalorians. On its own that wouldn’t be much of a surprise. The Mandos were all over the stadium and the planet (no doubt thrilling the locals). One was in sapphire armor with bright gold accents and the other wore matted black with red trim. Though Falene was not so adept, she knew both of them by sight for this was not her first meeting with either.

“Kelt, you here because you found my painting?” Falene said with a broad smile.

Haylee Kelt, the golden voiced Bakuran-born Mandalorian who would once again provide her services performing both team anthems, was probably smiling beneath her buy’ce. “All in good time, alor,” she said, “Play honorably today. Let Bakura stand with honor in the annals of Mandalorian lore from this day forth.”

Falene patted Kelt on the side of one of her armored shoulders. “I will,” Falene said. She turned to the other Mandalorian. “And we have you to thank for being here, Vizsla.”

“A general is only as good as his soldiers,” Adenn Vizsla said, “and sometimes not even that good.”

“Are you sorry that you came here with us?” Falene said, “If things had gone differently, you could have been with your people on the other side of the field.”

“And with that bantha in lipstick Felps?” Vizsla said derisively, “You have given me a better home than I could have hoped in my time of trouble, alor’ika.”

“There are no debts between us,” Falene said, “You earned your keep and more. It is as much as we could ask of anyone.”

It was true. Vizsla’s internal critique of the Miners play, challenging Cundertol and Valerii (sometimes at the same time), had sharpened the team. His opposition scouting had been crucial to the Miners run of success this season. Though one could have forgiven him for easing up on his analysis of the Mercs given his previous alleigance, Vizsla had dissected their play in minute detail. He had watched The Game of Rivals in person in case the Miners had prevailed and shared his findings with the team. Though he never interfered in practice, he knew that he advised Gaeriel and influenced it.

“Go, alor’ika,” he said, “It is time. Mandokarla.”

“What did he say to you?” Niskat asked from behind Falene as they moved on.

“Beats the heck out of me,” Falene said with a shrug.

“Gentlebeings, the Bakura Miners!”

It was the same announcement to which the team had twice taken the field at the Galactic Cup Final. There were no individual player introductions. There was only the team, starters and reserves alike, together. They rushed onto the pitch as one, their captain in the lead, Falene in the rear but one.

As was traditional, a large number of seats had been made available to the Miners for purchase and an equal number for the Mercs organization. A portion was also reserved for the local fans to take pride in the event their world was putting on. Nobody had any trouble selling their allotment to their fans. Limmie lovers had come out in force for this game. It was two old rivals who were meeting on the game’s biggest stage.

Had the Smugglers displaced the Miners as the Mercs’ biggest rival? Yes. Was the Senatorial Showdown now more important to the Miners? Yes. But as Falene took the field, for the first time in her playing career she suddenly felt the full electricity of the old Mandalore-Bakura rivalry charging the stadium. What had once lain dormant was now alive again. Two nations that had once been allies in war would now clash on a different battlefield. It was very likely this game would establish bragging rights for a generation between their two worlds.

Victory would never be forgotten; defeat, never forgiven.

---

At the center of the Miners end of the field, with the anthems and traditions concluded, the Miners huddled together one last time before the game began. Valerii had said her piece--but one more being had something say.

“We always say it’s going to be a battle out here,” Alana said to the team, “but today that’s literally true. They’ve got a warrior spirit and culture. They are going to treat this like a war--and that’s what this is. This isn’t a battle--this is the war. Everything comes down to this. Everything.

“I’ve been playing the Mercs since before they were in the Elite League,” Alana said, “I know what they’re like when they get the scent of a championship. It’s like blood to a Karkarodon. You underestimate them for a second and they’re going to torch you.”

“You mean they brought their contingency plans with them onto the field?” Horst Penn said, “I could have sworn that was illegal.”

Niskat swatted Horst on the back of the head. “Focus up.”

“I’ve waited my entire career to play this game against this team,” Alana continued, “We did not come this far to let the bucketheads take one against us now!”

The team agreed loudly.

“Do your thing, play Miners limmie, and this you’re going to remember this game for the rest of your life!” Alana shouted, “Let’s go!”

They broke with a shout and got ready.

And there he was: Jeem Daryc, one of the proud Mandalorians on the Mandalorian team. He and Falene were not so different. They played for more than credits, more than endorsements, more than a team. They played for their homeworlds, their culture, their nation.

Falene shook Daryc’s hand briefly before play began. “Give me your best today, Daryc,” she said, “because you’re going to get mine.” No more words than that were needed.

One handshake now, one handshake later. That was the way it was going to be.

Everything that happened in between was going to be the difference.

TAG: Happy Galactic Cup Final Bardan_Jusik

 

IC: Cruth Kantor
Coruscant Athletic Club

"The first nominee for the 277 Helmsman is Laura Cellen, forward from Grand Vulpter System University," Cruth said. The Zabrak waited for applause to die down before continuing. "The second nominee is Callie Polarez, forward from Brentaal College of Commerce." More applause, although the big question for Polarez was if the Helmsman nomination here would help her draft stock. "Third is Noj Elbog, forward from National University". Obviously some fans didn't like how the Super 16 had earned three Helmsman nominees, but the conference had the bragging rights after all was said and done, having sent two teams to the Galactic Final game, which had been an instant classic. "And, lastly, Kosh Ul'kesh, goalkeeper from the University of Agamar."

Now the stage was set for him to open the envelope and tell the galaxy who would be walking home with the hardware. He had already presented the other award winners; Ul'kesh was looking to reel in the Helmsman as well as the Ruy Gey award for the Best Goalkeeper in the Galaxy. Elbog had little to prove here with a win, since he was already the top-rated forward on the board. Cellen had some ceiling to gain, which would likely give her a boost. But Polarez, she stood the most to gain from a win here.

"Your winner of the 277 Helmsman Memorial Trophy is . . ." Cruth said as he opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of flimsy.

Spoiler

Kosh Ul'kesh, goalie from the University of Agamar.

The Whipid went up and took the Award. He was grinning widely, which as a Whipid was rather fierce-looking. The University of Agamar had gained a Helmsman win, and were on the rise.

TAGS to Everyone


Almost forgot my wager:
Mando'ade Mercs vs. Bakura Miners - Mercs, 30,000 TAG to Trieste

 

Sub-GM Post

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

Limmie Futures League
Championship Week
Zygian Savings and Loan Seventh Place Game
(8) Concordia Crusaders at (7) Byblos Red Wings (20–14)
Ardees Beverage Fifth Place Game
(6) Eriadu Thunder at (5) Thyferra Force (16–22)
SoroSuub Third Place Game
(2) Druckenwell Marksmen at (1) Tatooine Sandskimmers (11–3)
Futures Cup Final, presented by Gundarkade
Kabukk Stadium, Kashyyyk
(4) Garqi Gunners vs. (3) Commenor Gundarks (11–13)

Congratulations to the Commenor Gundarks, 277 Limmie Futures Cup Champions!

---

IC: Commissioner Marius Turnell

Marius walked out onto the field, with two assistants behind him carrying the Futures Cup. The trophy was still in its infancy, only four sets of names having been inscribed on it thus far. Denon. Concordia. Commenor. Druckenswell. But today, a fifth set would join them, and for the first time, names would appear on the trophy twice.

The right-handed Marius instinctively reached for the microphone with that hand, but realized that it was useless as that hand was in a fresh cast. He instead accepted the microphone with his left hand and managed to hold it still as he talked. "First off, congratulations to the Gunners on a fantastic season, reaching the Futures Cup Final in only their second year under Agamar. With that, it is now my pleasure to present the Futures Cup to our first-ever repeat champions, the Commenor Gundarks." The commissioner turned to the Gundarks. "Would the captain please come get the trophy?"

Jalin Mioree came forward and accepted the trophy, holding it high over his head before turning to Marius. The commissioner glanced at his cast for a moment, then handed the microphone to an assistant and held out his left hand. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I'm afraid the left hand will have to do today." Jalin shook it anyway.

As he watched the Futures Cup get passed from player to player, Marius reflected on the past five seasons. Yes, this was working out well. But change could not be avoided, and he was thinking it was time to make some changes. First on the table was what to do with that pesky consolation bracket. He stared at his cast. That was not the solution, he told himself. But what was?

TAG: Jedi Gunny Bardan_Jusik Vehn Runjedirun Rebecca_Daniels Tim Battershell CPL_Macja

 

IC: Vesper Lynd
Lynd residence, Gesco City, Bakura
ELL Conference Semi Finals Week

The traditional end of the season dressing room clean out was almost purely academic for the Monarchs this season. Since their final game was on the road against the Senators and having been mathematically eliminated the week before at home, all the players needed to do was verify that they had collected all of their personal items. For some of the rookies they would be gathering up their things and heading to Byblos to get prepared to play in the LFL Consolation Semifinals. Pretty much all of the rookies would be catching the next shuttle off planet, but not Oss’irh’cgood.

The rookie Keeper had quite a full itinerary. For starters, he didn’t travel back to Rydonni Prime, instead he stayed back on Coruscant to watch one of his alma mater’s conference rivals, the BYU Clawcats, take on the Scholars of RepU in the semi-finals of the College Limmie Playoffs. From there he would travel to Kashyyyk and join Vesper as the only Monarch nominees at the season ending awards. After which, they would watch the Galactic Cup match, with Aley Helios, and prepare for the All Star Match.

Incidentally, Setarcos and Romo were also staying back as well, supposedly to watch the match also. Vesper had a feeling the GM and Head Coach were already starting their discussions about changes for next season. There would be changes, something of which Vesper was absolutely sure. A team could not afford the luxury of being one of the worst offensively producing teams in the league and not have a change. The scary part was, Byblos, by all rights, should have finished dead last in the LFL. A week seven match against the Crusaders, which went all the way to a shootout to be decided, saved them from that fate in the regular season. But if they drop a deuce in the Refresher Bowl (Vesper is impressed with the LFL’s playoff system).

So yes, change was inevitable.

The good thing was, Vesper was ready for some change in her life. As she lay in her bed, listening to her sister Ginny retching her guts out in the refresher they use to share as kids, she knew her life wasn’t the only one that could use some changing. The sick noise was abruptly replaced by a soft baritone voice whispering in her ear, “You know… my apartment isn’t too far from here and I do live alone.”

A smile spread across Vesper’s face as lips, which were encircled by a hint of stubble, gently kissed her neck. “I know, but I only get to really spend time with my family during the off season,” She closed her eyes as his teeth began to nibble on her earlobe, “Besides, I owe them some extra time considering what happened last year.”

Intimacies ceased and a low groan escaped her companion, “Are you ever going to let me live that one down?”

Vesper flipped around to face the young man snuggling her, “I don’t know, Nicholas. Are you going to keep secrets from me again?”

“Hell no.”

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

Triestes’ Private box, Bakura Gardens
Solo Conference Finals, Miners vs. Buccaneers 28-14

Being invited to the Private box of one the most powerful families on Bakura would be intimidating for anyone. Anyone, that is, other than a member of one of the other most powerful families on Bakura. Nicholas took to the family like a Gungan to water. He hung back by Vesper’s side and allowed the Triestes their moment. As the final seconds ticked off the clock, Vesper couldn’t help but feel a little pang of regret.

276 had been a magical season for her and the Monarchs. They fought hard to get into the playoffs and clawed their way through to the Galactic Cup match only to let it slip through their fingers. Now they missed out on the playoffs with a dismal offensive performance. It ate at her, and Nicholas must have felt it from her. “Ginny? Ginny, why don’t you snap a holo of Ves and I? It’ll look good hanging on the wall of my new office.”

“What?” Vesper turned and looked at him in surprise, “You never told me you had a new job?” She quickly turned back around so that Ginnifer could snap the picture. The irony of the photo was that both of them were wearing Miners’ gear.

Nicholas gave her a playful peck on the cheek and flashed her the smile she always melted for, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard. I’ve got an office down at Monarchs Stadium. Now I’m the Chief Legal Counsel for the team.”

Vesper’s eyes got as big as saucers, “That’s awesome!” She jumped into his arms and wrapped her’s about his neck.

The rest of the family had already filtered out of the box and once again Vesper allowed her cousin her due. Nicholas followed suit and walked to the windows that overlooked the field, “It’s funny, I don’t know if it was the drinks talking or if your aunt was being serious, but she said something that got me thinking. We got talking about the legality of the Monarchs ownership woes with the government. When she suddenly she just blurted out ‘Why doesn’t Vesper just buy the team?’ I gave her an answer that I can’t even remember, but could you believe that? You? A team owner? Haha. If that were to happen, you’d be my boss.”

Vesper gave a nervous laugh, “You’re saying that I’m not already?” but that got the wheels spinning in her mind.

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

To: Bennett Halverson
Rossum Bookmakers

Ms. Halverson,

I would like to place the following wager for the Galactic Cup Final matchup:

Mercs vs Miners: 250,000 credits on the Miners to win

Thank you and have a good day,

Client 24601


TAG: Trieste

 

GM Post

Today is a day that I think we've all looked forward to with some level of excitement. I know my heart is in my throat right now and I've got a lot of emotions going on. We all know what today is.

...

It's the last time the Wizards dice roller will be used in this game! I know, I'm going to miss it too, but 16 seasons was a good run for it.

Oh, yeah, today's the Galactic Cup Final too. Bonus rolls to Bakura and Mando'ade. Bonus rolls for preseason games and 278 Week 1 games already awarded to Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa, Ralltiir, Rydonni Prime, and Ylesia.

122nd Galactic Cup Final
Kabukk Stadium, Kashyyyk
(2) Mando’ade Mercs vs. (1) Bakura Miners (34-38)

Congratulations to the Bakura Miners, 277 Galactic Cup champions!

Presentation of the Galactic Cup and Numifolis Award to follow in post.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik who clearly took me to the limit today in a Final that fulfilled all the high expectations I had for it

 

GM Post

And here I was so pumped about the last game of the Wizards dice roller I forgot...

HSN Morning Headlines!

• In game-time decision, Jonathon Lieznam will start for the Mercs in Galactic Cup Final
• Report: a buyer for the majority shares of the Monarchs has been found and awaiting approval from ELL offices
• Monarchs are reportedly shopping the Naboo Twins, Sugnok Umanh, and Abe Cynour
• Other reports from Rydonni Prime say long-time Monarchs Vesper Lynd, Winnifred Aptos, Kelsei Ster, Cali Royd, and Staweh-Tam Ford are considering moving on to the next phase of their careers after the next season
• Rydonni Prime announces that management was unable to come to agreeable terms with Nat Benneb and Vicki Devine. Both players will enter free agency after the 277 season is concluded
• In a recent interview PLL Commissioner Agado voiced his disappointment in the performance of former league member team, Ryloth Rough Riders. "My office is considering Ryloth's application to be reinstated in the PLL, but will require a majority vote from the PLL Board of Governors to approve it for the 278 season." He also indicated that he was in full support of adding the Kashyyyk Rangers to the Elite League
• LFL inside source claims that the cast on the commissioner's right hand was caused by the same act that produced "a fist-sized hole" in the wall of his office
• Source: Cause of Turnell's anger "undetermined", but believed to be related to this weekend's consolation games
• HSN broadcast of seventh-place game draws 0.0 rating, lowest for any live game in LFL history

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3

 

IC: Ava Killenger
Theed, Naboo

Ava limped to the door and then opened it with the key card. The light turned green, and she went inside. It was a neat and orderly room; however, unlike many of the places she had travelled to this season with the team, the venue was a lot nicer. She put her bag down on the bed and walked to the window. The Naboo sunshine drifted in lazily on her, and soaked up the view. Rolling hills extended for miles outside of the capital city; they looked like fun to run around in for hours without a care in the world. The travel guide had said that Naboo had some amazing scenery; without going out, she could tell that this place was nice. It wouldn’t be a bad place to live, she reasoned.

But would she get to enjoy the scenery here now? Her sprained foot was getting better, but the All-Star Game was in two days, and she wouldn’t be able to play. Andres Fortune of the Ralltiir Starkillers had been selected to replace her, and she wasn’t happy about having to sit out. Frankly, she was surprised that she had been named to the Game in the first place. The Senators could not have had a worse season, potentially the worst in Elite League history, and yet she got here. It felt like a cruel joke that she was here for the All-Star festivities but couldn’t participate. She probably would never get here again . . . and that didn’t sit well with the rookie. There would be no enjoying the bountiful nature of Naboo, just sitting around watching the Holo and being bombarded with questions by the media. Ultimately, she had the special “honor” of getting to sit on the sidelines during the Game and watching it go by without her. That was all kinds of wrong, and was part of the reason why she had for some time thought of skipping this altogether. If it hadn’t been for her parents’ persuasion, she would probably still be at home.

There was a knock on the door, and Ava had to stumble over to it. Outside was Christine Gamble, her friend and roommate with the Senators. “Mind if I come in?” Christine asked as she went by Ava into the room.

“I didn’t say you could,” Ava said, shaking her head as she closed the door behind her.

“Hey, I’ve earned the right to barge in when I want,” Christine said with a sly grin. “Besides, you don’t know how long it took me to track you down. This hotel likes to keep secrets about who is staying where. All of the other players are here, but where they are, I have no idea. Then again, I don’t mind having a room to myself . . .”

“I’m not that bad of a roommate,” Ava commented snidely.

“Oh come on, Ava. Cheer up a little,” Christine said, but behind that comment Ava could tell that something was not right with her friend. “After all, we’re only here because we did so damn well.”

“Is there something going wrong, Christine?” the rookie asked.

“I’m still not over that horrendous season we just had to endure,” the corner back said. “And I never will be.”

“It happens.”

“No it doesn’t. This doesn’t just happen to anyone. The game hates me, and then they think that naming me to this All-Star team is going to save their skins. I didn’t do anything to deserve to be here, Ava. And that’s what destroys me.”

“It means you have fans,” Ava replied optimistically. “Maybe they voted you in.”

“I’m a competitor. You should know that by now,” Christine said. “And I didn’t earn this roster spot this year. We both know that. Last year I was injured during the game, and now I’ve been named here when I don’t deserve it.”

“You didn’t want to be named?” Ava asked. This was curious.

“I was just named here because the Senators had to have someone go, not because I’m a good player. That’s all I’ll be seen as, the player whose states were horrible but still made an All-Star team because of some stupid requirement. It takes everything I’ve done away from me, stripped me down to a requirement instead of an actual star who deserves to be here.”

“What are you trying to say?” Ava asked. Now she wanted to know what was going on.

“Nothing,” Christine said, shutting up. “Let’s go get some ice cream or something. I’m sick of talking about the game.”

The two of them went down into Theed and walked around for part of the day, Christine having to wait for her slow-walking friend to get around on her crutches. Ava was speeding up on the devices, but it was still slow going. Some curious passerby stopped and stared, but everyone left them alone.

As she ate her ice cream, Ava studied Christine’s face. She was hurting, it was obvious. Her pride had been destroyed by the past season, and there was no getting it back. Christine had lost thirteen straight games; that was unheard of for any player at any level. There were rumors that she would be traded after this game, and that it wouldn’t mean anything.

“I know you’re not happy about it,” Ava finally said. “About being here at the game and all. But at least you’re not like me. Not hung up and replaced because you’re injured.”

“I’ve already been there, done that,” Christine said while staring off into space. “Last year was a lonely game; I sat on the bench and let the galaxy see me on crutches. And you’re going to find out real soon what it’s like to not be relevant. Sure your name is on the roster, but there’s that little asterisk next to it saying that you were injured. And that hurts.”

“At least you get to play,” Ava said. “I’m screwed. This will probably be my only All-Star selection, and I can’t play. You’ve been to three in your first three years, and if you show up to play even half of your games you’ll get in every year after that. I can’t say the same. People don’t care about my on-field performances; I’ve had to make a name for myself off of it because that’s the only way I’m known. And the off-field stuff is so much more rewarding than being popped every week. It is even if we were winning, because those kids mean a lot to me. But I know what you mean; I didn’t get named here because I earned it. I played horribly this year.”

“Did better than I did,” Christine said.

“What are you talking about? Anya did better than I did,” Ava said, talking about Anya Amasova. The Hapan forward had led the team in points scored, although that hadn’t been hard in a year where points were few and far between.

“You played better than Qorbus did.”

“I just got lucky. I doubt it’ll happen again,” Ava said. “Besides, him failing this year is why we flopped. We didn’t have that number one threat to score, and then the defense can choke out the other forwards easily.”

“If there is another year,” Christine said. “We’ll probably be traded somewhere this offseason. Not like we have much value, though.”

Ava couldn’t deny this fact. Both of them weren’t worth much on the trade market.

The rest of the day had a glum pallor over it as the two of them went through the motions. They tried to have fun, but Ava could tell that it was forced. The two of them were bothered by the terrible season, and it showed. Ava just wished she could play in the All-Star Game, because she was just wasting her time being here.

Frak you, foot she thought when she turned in for the night.

---

IC: Christine Gamble
Press Room, Day Before the Game

Christine was bored to tears by all the motions of the All-Star festivities. She knew she should be excited to be here and not be injured, but it wasn’t like that at all. It was similar to last year, when she hadn’t been able to play. She was just as depressed, if not more so, about the state of her career. What had once been a promising career had now fallen into a bottomless chasm that kept going. She wondered if she would ever experience another win again, because it appeared as though it would never occur.

The teams had practiced earlier in the day, so Christine was dressed just in her ‘Solo Conference’ All-Star t-shirt and sweatpants. She hadn’t wanted to appear here formally, because she didn’t feel like answering questions. The media had turned on her and the team during the year on Coruscant, and she wasn’t looking forward to having to deal with media from all over the galaxy.

“What are your thoughts on the season you just ended?” as reporter asked.

“It was hell,” Christine said without any emotion. “Next question.”

“Do you feel like your MCL healed up during the offseason, because you obviously weren’t yourself this season?”

“It felt fine. I just didn’t perform,” Christine said.

“But what if your MCL was still bothering you? I mean, sometimes injuries linger.”

“It felt fine. Next question,” Christine said, her ire building a little. She hated these kinds of repeat questions, especially when the reporters were persistent and didn’t give it up.

“It had to be bothering you. Otherwise you would have dominated. But you didn’t, so therefore there must be something wrong with you.”

“Look, I did what I could this year. That wasn’t enough, I get that. But I wasn’t injured,” Christine retorted.

“Another question. Speaking of your pathetic play this year, who do you blame that on? Yourself, your teammates, management, or all of them? Even though we all know you’re at fault.”

Wow, thanks for such a stupid question Christine thought to herself.

“We all sucked this year, so let it alone. I’m not interested in talking about it anymore. It’s in the past,” she said bluntly.

“A lot of readers commented that you shouldn’t be here at the All-Star Game because of your terrible season. I have even heard of moves to petition to remove the ‘every team represented’ rule because of this season’s Senator team. Because you were a complete embarrassment.”

“Is that a question, or just you rambling? Because I don’t have time to waste with your biased thoughts,” Christine shot back.

“So you feel like you don’t belong here?”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“But you don’t really deserve it, do you? I mean, our columnist said that your nomination here was, and I quote, ‘a complete abuse of the system in favor of popularity of certain players, and the unmistakable hint that the League cares more about money than it does about the players who should be in the game.’ After all, why are you even named here? You don’t deserve it, and yet losers vote for you because they think you’re pretty. How many good players got left off the team because a few guys out there have a crush on you?”

More rage.

“I wasn’t asked to be here, OK?” Christine said. “I was named here, so I showed up. What’s your problem with me? Don’t you have someone else to pick on? Next question.” She looked at the chrono on the wall; she still had fifteen minutes left before she could leave. Dammit, that was going to last forever.

“A lot of people said that this was the worst season in Elite League history. How do you feel like your brand has taken a hit because of this?”

“Next question . . .” Christine said gruffly.

“Really, though, you didn’t answer mine,” the reporter said. “It’s no secret that you were bad this year. Easily the worst captain in Senator history. And that’s saying something, because of how anemic you were this year. So, how does that affect your image? And be honest.”

“Are you trying to say that I’m the worst captain ever?”

“Basically. You were pretty terrible.”

“Whatever happened to positive questions in these interview sessions?” Christine asked angrily. She was fed up with all this crap.

“If you want positive questions, play better,” one reporter said.

“You suck, Gamble!” another reporter said. “Just finish your damn questions and get out of here so that a real player can get up there.”

“What a waste of time,” another muttered.

“So, as the worst captain in team history, plus maybe in league history, obviously you are a terrible player. You did so badly that my two year-old could do a better job. And be cuter, too,” said a reporter with a smug look.

“My readers want to know if you want to retire. They think it’d be better for you that way, because you’re no good.”

“It’s your own damn fault. You got what you deserved.”

“Are the rumors true that you’re sleeping with Gark S’rily? That must be the only reason why you’re still on the Senators, because you’re his plaything . . .”

“Who’d you have to sleep with to get this nomination, anyways? You’re not an All-Star, Gamble! You’ll never be anywhere near that caliber!”

“The Senators should have been demoted so that we’re rid of losers like you that taint the league with your tanking.”

“The Senators suck!”

Another reporter made a lewd gesture. “Come on, hot stuff, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Snap!

“Piss off!” Christine said as she stood up. The force of her movement was enough to knock over her chair. “If you want me gone, so be it. And you can all go frak yourselves, but I doubt if you would be capable. It would serve you frakkers right.” She then walked off the stage in an angry huff, disappearing behind the curtain and almost tearing it loose from its moorings.


By the end of the day, Christine Gamble had left the planet.


TAG: No One

 

IC: Falene Trieste
Kabukk Stadium, Kashyyyk



No matter what she did, Falene could not stop Daryc. The Merc offense had done its homework--that was clear. They were pounding the Miner offense non-stop. Comstock was getting so burned on some of the goals that they might as well have been using their flamethrowers that Horst had momentarily thought they’d brought with them. If Falene was able to hold up Daryc for a moment, he would somehow find a way to get the bolo-ball up to Lieznam who would do something incredible with his mobility. Just when it looked like Horst or Ward would have him, Lieznam would slip out of his grasp like a greased Lothal pig and do something amazing with the bolo-ball, finding an open teammate or just scoring himself.

It seemed he’d been more than worth the fourth overall pick that the Mercs had spent on him two years ago.

The only consolation was that the Miner offense was...well, being the Miner offense. Niskat and Aron were doing similar things to the Mercs as they were doing to the Miners. They were controlling the ball, passing around in the offensive zone, and making their plays with crisp precision. Though Rodders was not quite so mobile as Lieznam, he was still the one directing the attack of the Miners. The way he would stand in that little cushion of space that he could find in the middle of the field, sometimes helped by a little bit of a screening block from a teammate, coolly set his feet and fire--sometimes into the hands of a teammate or off one of their limbs and then into the goal, sometimes into the net or over the bar himself--was nothing short of amazing.

The scores piled up rapidly and the fans at Kabukk went through every conceivable emotion as the score seesawed back and forth. Chants of “Oya! Oya! Oya!” split through the general, non-descript bursts of sound and emotion from the Miner partisans. At every break, Valerii, keeping a steady presence on the sidelines, would smooth over the highs and lows to keep her team focused, but intense. They had good energy and she wanted to keep them riding strong.

Coach Hulu, on the other hand, seeing his labyrinthine defense absolutely sliced by the Lieznam-Daryc duo, was doing his best to make adjustments on the fly. Falene’s mission, however, remained unchanged.

“Do not let up on Daryc,” the Khil told Falene, “Do not give him any space.”

“Being-to-being I’m not containing him,” Falene pointed out, not without some frustration.

“Zone he’s going to do whatever the heck he wants,” the Khil said testily, “You’re slowing him up and that’s giving others time to do what they need to do. Keep it up.”

Falene followed the game plan. It was what she was trained to do. It didn’t seem to make a difference with the way Daryc played.

---

In such a close game, for it to come down to the final possession was the only way for it to end.

The Miners were up by 1, 35-34. Falene thought that the Mercs had really been pouring it on all game, but now they were turning the intensity up to a level that Falene had never experienced before. They were giving it everything they had and the Miners were nearly breaking. They were going for the win. Shot after shot after shot they put on the net. Some were blocked before they got there. The others Lizbit just barely stopped, but in the process giving up huge rebounds that the Mercs scooped up and fired back on the net again, only to be stopped once more.

They cycled back to Daryc and Falene, hanging right there with him like she was supposed to do, shoulder-to-shoulder with her new nemesis, punched the bolo-ball as hard as she could in Daryc’s hands. The ball popped out and went behind the two of them, who had already raced passed it.

It was Eponette who broke out to chip the ball up field with her foot. It came to Alana, who had drawn her old “friend” Argo Mor’kesh today at midfield. They’d resumed their acquaintance on precisely the same terms with which they’d last met on the field--which was to say that neither of them was giving an inch. Alana, knowing she didn’t have much room or time, kicked the ball up the field where it was snagged by Niskat who boxed her defender out using her body so she was the only one who could make a play on the ball. Standing tall, she turned and passed to Fiesta. The Xexto spun away from his defender as he deftly moved the ball between his four hands to play keep away. But keep away was not the name of this game. Not with only one point separating them and the Mercs. He lobbed the ball to the middle, a dangerous play with the way it arced so gently over the field, almost daring a Merc defender to jump up and grab it. Fiesta knew what he was doing. Aron Rodders caught the ball, ducked a Merc tackle, set his feet, and fired a rocket into the back of the net.

38-34.

The Miner fans exploded with so little time remaining. Victory seemed at hand.

Then again, that’s what Grand Moff Tarkin had thought. Falene knew better.

The Mercs came with everything they had, quickly moving the ball down the field. On the sidelines, Valerii was yelling something, Falene didn’t know what. The Merc fans were getting louder and the Miner fans were trying to match the noise to spur their team to hold strong. It was absolute chaos in the defensive zone as the Mercs gave it everything. Daryc was running all over the place, tying Falene in circles, but she was holding with him. The ball came to him briefly, but he knocked it forward.

What happened then, Falene didn’t know. She thought it went to Lieznam, she thought a shot got off, but she didn’t know. All she knew was that she had Daryc, she had her being, and she was going to stick with him.

And then the game was over.

The Miners, improbably, had won three Galactic Cups in eight years.

Falene jumped in the air in exhilaration. By the time she came back down on her feet she had the sense to join her teammates in the press of celebration. She felt someone huge slam into her from behind and she knew it was Niskat. The Miners jumped up and down together and their joy could be voiced, but not articulated. The sound they made was that of general jubilation and there were no words that could be put to it.

But even in the midst of their ecstasy, one of them still had sense in her head. “Handshake time,” Alana said, though with a big smile on her face, “Handshake time.”

Gathering together were the Mercs, who for the second time in seven years, had come so close and remained so far from that ultimate goal. Yes, it was always going to end this way, with one of them triumphant and the other defeated. Falene was one of the first to get in line.

Except this was not to be a handshake line, not for Falene. To every player, as she congratulated them on a great game and a great season, she clasped their forearm in Mandalorian fashion. It was a pattern that the whole team followed.

Thorn.

Beaux Jaaxon.

Robacca.

Gunmap Forp.

Wylliam Starsearcher.

Vern Ghoul.

Mike Doubleday.

Jolis Horonel.

Arick Vau.

Rann Gorlo.

Jaya Tam.

Maggie Adams.

Tsulkalu.

Rajah Rolko.

Killer K’Karlson

Lenny Jowa.

Ciegarth.

Melia Soker.

Ariva Kendall.

Pedro.

Fu Arock.

Lycar Naughten.

Jiri Patton.

Gozer.

Manta S’eo.

Paul Rooker.

Mij Katan.

Jeem Daryc. “You gave me everything I could handle today,” Falene said, pausing for longer with the being who had schooled her today, “You played a great game. You’ll be back.”

Jonathan Lieznam himself. “What a game, Johnny Limmie,” Falene said, “You’ve got bright things ahead of you.”

In the place of honor at the end of the line, Argo Mor’kesh, the captain. “You played us hard,” Falene said, “Great game.”

Lu Braun, the head coach. “What a job this season,” Falene said, “Be proud of what you did.”

Falene turned away and she was immediately greeted by a team assistant who put a wreath of edelweiss around her head, the national bloom of Bakura in which all of their champions, especially Galactic Cup Champions were crowned. Falene smiled, but tears came into her eyes all the same. It was overwhelming. Never had she dreamed that she would be a galactic champion once in her life. Now it had happened three times: once in college and twice in the highest professional limmie league in the galaxy.

Niskat, who had just received the same honor, wordlessly gave Falene one of her big golden bear hugs and Falene returned it with all the force she could muster. What it meant to win the Galactic Cup together was beyond words.

When they parted, Falene saw that the very end of the handshake line was moving slowly. Alana Glencross, who had lost to these Mercs at the start of her career with the Cloud City Sky Captains, had something to say to each and every Merc. From her aspect, it was clearly respect and condolences. This game had meant a lot to Alana--she’d said as much--and she was ending it the right way. Behind her were Hulu and Valerii, who were also congratulating the Mercs on a game well played.

But behind the two coaches was Adenn Vizsla in his beskar’gam, his helmet off so he could lean in to each of their ears and say something softly, privately. Every member of the Mandalorian team got an arm clasp and a firm pat on the back. This had to be hard for Vizsla. He was a Galactic Cup champion, but not with the team that he had helped make a contender. Falene knew that he felt for every one of the players who had poured their heart and soul into this game only to come up so tantalizingly short.

Falene noticed that Alana had just gotten her crown of edelweiss and had a huge smile on her face as she hugged Jolla Pic. Falene caught someone approaching just beyond the pair and at the same moment Alana did too. She ended her embrace with her midfield partner and she put her hands to her mouth and her eyes watered up. Coming across the field was her human Niall with their son Olivar in his arms, once again wearing those huge earmuffs to protect his infant auditory inputs. Alana accepted her son into her arms as she looked into his tiny face and she kissed him on the forehead. She had said she wanted to win for him, and now she had. When the Miners had gotten schlacked by the Mercs in the offseason friendly without her, because she had chosen to bring him into the galaxy, the odds of the Miners winning the Cup had seemed long. But they had done it.

Niall had been carrying Olivar in a blanket, but after Alana had removed the tyke from it, the blanket unraveled into a blue and gold striped scarf that Niall draped around his wife’s neck. Alana didn’t have enough hands to lift the Galactic Cup and her son at the same time, but she’d have a reminder of him with her all the same.

As the teams waited for the Commissioner to appear with two impressive pieces of hardware, a reporter corralled Falene for a brief interview.

“Falene, in the offseason you became the Taoiseach of the Noble House and de facto owner of the Miners. Tell us what this win today means to you.”

“I’m just overjoyed,” Falene replied, “We’ve had an amazing core of player these last few seasons. This championship coming so soon on the heels of the one before...it’s amazing. I feel so lucky to be playing with this team. I guess I’m just happy I didn’t screw up the system that I inherited.”

“The Miners had a lot of success under your mother. Are you confident about this team going forward?”

“Next season is next season,” Falene said, “I’m just going to enjoy this one for a while.”

“Thanks Falene, you do that.”

After the reporter moved off, Falene found Ponie. She gave the embattled player a huge hug. “I’m so proud of you,” Falene said.

“And I owe you everything,” Ponie replied, “Everything.”

Near by, Alana was being interviewed now with her son in her arms. Even amidst the celebration, Falene could hear them. “Alana, I’m going to give you the names of some captains who won three Galactic Cups in their career. Reina Kether, Rhia Grames, Tan Strensky. How does it feel to be mentioned in that company?”

“I think that Rhia actually won four,” Alana said with a chuckle, “but you can’t get to four without three, right? I...I’m just incredibly blown away. I’m going to be honest--this game meant a lot to me. The Mercs and I, we go way back. I’ve wanted to play them here, in this game, ever since realignment. They are a team that you measure yourself against in this league. To beat them here, in a game like this…” Alana shook her head. “...that’s...I don’t think I have the words for it.”

“Alana, you had your son during the offseason. The Miners missed you in a preseason warm up match against the Mercs and there were questions about whether you’d be ready for this season. Do you feel you proved the doubters wrong?”

“I think we played an amazing team game. Our offense answered the bell today and rose to the occassion. A few bounces though, this game goes another way,” Alana said, “I’m one player in 15.”

“This was the last season of your contract. Alana, are you coming back in 278 or are you going out on top?”

Alana paused and then smiled. “I think that’s between me and Quinn Cundertol a few weeks down the road.”

“Congratulations, Alana, on being a three-time Galactic Cup champion.”

Alana raised her son's arm to wave it for him to the cameras and the galaxy.

The Noble House was on the field now and they were all smiles for their Taoiseach.

“Screw the college game, this is why I love the Elite League,” Kerry Trieste gushed excitedly before she hugged and kissed her daughter, “Oh Falene, Falene, you were amazing. I couldn’t be more proud of you. My Taoiseach.”

“Thanks Mom,” Falene said.

Congratulations came from one and all. She had led the Miners and the Noble House to victory from the front. Trieste, Lynd, Westenra, and Eldred--they all hugged her and kissed her. They were happy not just for her, but with her. It was a great gift to give them all. One in particular felt that special thanks were needed.

“Thank you,” Regan Eldred said as she hugged Falene, “Thank you for making me part of this. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“No, you have no idea how much you did for me,” Falene assured her.

“Gentlebeings, please welcome to the field Commissioner of Elite League Limmie Fenrir Lokensgaard for the presentation of the Numifolis Award,” the public address announcer said.

His entrance was greeted by a seemingly hostile rumble from the Kashyyyk fans.

“Good evening, and before we go any further, we need to give one big 'oya!' to the Mercs for an incredible season,” Fenrir said. The Merc fans did so, loudly, proudly. The Miner fans, who remembered their recent battles with Mandalorians at their side, joined in. “I just cannot get enough of that word.”

Next to him on a table, the Numifolis Award was standing. “The Numifolis Award goes to the most valuable player of the Galactic Cup Playoffs,” Lokensgaard said, “The 277 Numifolis Award goes to Aron Rodders of the Bakura Miners.”

Rodders came forward with a sheepish grin to accept the trophy from the Commissioner to the cheers of his teammates and the Miner fans. He was immediately corralled by a reporter who broadcast on the big vidscreen and across the Holonet.

“Aron, this is your second Numifolis Award and your third Galactic Cup championship. You’ve had an incredible career. Tell us what you’re feeling right now.”

“This is pretty awesome,” Aron said, “I have to thank Coach Valerii for everything. She’s always believed in me, she knew what my strengths were and she let me use them. We’ve done great things together.”

“Aron, your contract is up with this season. Let’s be honest, what kind of a payday do you think you’re going to have?”

Rodders was quiet for a moment. “Well...I talked about it with my family, my girlfriend...and I decided after last week’s game that if we won...well, I was going to go out on top.”

The reporter’s eyes bulged. “Aron, are you announcing your retirement from the Elite League?”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Aron said, “Not exactly the way that I expected it to happen, but...there you go.”

“Aron, congratulations on an amazing career, a third Galactic Cup, and I’m sure we’re going to see you at Empress Teta pretty soon,” the reporter said.

The applause was loud and strong and for a moment the impending silver trophy was forgotten. The Miners en masse came over to their teammate and every one of them shook his hand, hugged him, slapped him on the back. Alana Glencross’s eyes were watery once more as she congratulated her long-time comrade.

“We had a good run, didn’t we?” she told her fellow three-time champion.

“Yeah, we did,” Aron said, “We made some good limmie together. It’s been a pleasure Red.”

“Gentlebeings, the Galactic Cup of Limmie.”

The crowd crescendoed. The team turned and they watched the Cup as its keepers brought it forward to the table where the Numifolis Award had so lately stood. Some of them smiled. Some of them hugged each other. Some of them wiped away tears. Many of them had held this trophy before and would have their name inscribed on it for the second time. It didn’t matter. It was still awe-inspiring that this was going to happen for them.

“It takes a special team to win the Galactic Cup of Limmie,” Fenrir said, “It takes an amazing team to win it twice in three seasons. But it takes a truly incredible team to win it three times in seven seasons. The Noble House of Trieste has created one of the great limmie programs in the galaxy thanks to the leadership of Falene Trieste and Regan Eldred. In the front office, Quinn Cundertol, Briar Thorne, and Adenn Vizsla put together a roster that they had faith could be champions. On the sidelines, Gaeriel Valerii and Cuth Hulu brought those players together into a roster that achieved great things. Congratulations to the Miners and to Bakura. Now, Alana Glencross, come get the Galactic Cup again!”

The Miner captain came forward willingly, posed accepting the Cup from the Commissioner, with whom she shared a couple brief words, and then raised the Galacitc Cup of Limmie over her scarf-draped neck and edelweiss-crowned head with a shout of celebration. Thus began the parade of Miner celebrations.

Aron Rodders, at the peak of his greatness, was next, as he should be.

Horst Penn, the rookie who had been come into a critical position and excelled.

Zonko Lyriss, who had quietly done his job up front.

Dalton Ward, whose rocky first season had given way to journeyman excellence.

Thum Wowcin, who had played so much of the season as a starter when Ponie had been out and hadn’t complained once when she’d gotten her starting spot back.

Dorvan Fiesta, who had taken a chance on going to college on Bakura with his human-centric ways and had wound up staying and excelling.

Gary Zonka, who accepted his place as a role-player relieving Rodders, the Helmsman winner who was the odds-on favorite to succeed him now.

Eponette Ternardiel, Ponie, who hadn’t even been able to watch her team play a single regular season game as she sat in a Vertical City jail, forced to get her updates from her attorneys, not even getting to see highlights.

Maxxolo Grap, the CorTech corner back who plugged up opposition on the edge.

Jolla Pic, who had become one of the great midfielders in the game thanks to her captain and partner.

Becki Morlan, the sturdy half forward who had such good chemistry with her opposite number that there was no stopping them.

Morgan Alesh, who was always good for a clutch goal when the team needed it.

Lizbit Comstock, who hadn’t stopped much today, but had been such a big part of the Miners’ success in the last three years.

Niskat Deenever, who not just solidly backed up the middle with Rodders, but who could charge forward and take the lead when she needed to.

Falene Trieste, the woman who was their owner, but was only just a teammate in the locker room.

Nelly Wizmark, the other three-time champion, the first draft pick ever made by the Miners, who anchored their defense through thick and thin.

Han Tunross, the pleasant, unassuming trainer who tended to the bumps, bruises, aches, pains, and whatever else ailed them all season long.

Cuth Hulu, the assistant coach whose defensive schemes were insane and infuriated his players, but not as much as they stymied the other team.

Gaeriel Valerii, five-time Galactic Cup champion and woman who brought out the best in all of them.

Adenn Vizsla, the Mandalorian who had won a championship in the most painful way possible, against beings for whom he truly loved and cared.

Briar Thorne, the unsung Assistant GM who kept the lights on around Bakura Gardens.

Quinn Cundertol, who the galaxy could not tolerate, but the Miners would for at least this day, for today was a good day for all of them.

And, finally, Regan Eldred and Falene Trieste, together, Chairwoman and owner, for the former who had provided a hand at the rudder so the latter could play--and win.

Together they gathered for the team holo, smiles all around. They knew this holo would hang in the Noble House box and in the hallway that future Miners would walk down before they took the field. But that was not what would immortalize them. They would be forever remembered by the engravings made by an elderly Verpine whose handy would be surprisingly steady as the following was etched in:

BAKURA MINERS 277​

FALENE TRIESTE REGAN ELDRED ​

THE NOBLE HOUSE OF TRIESTE​

QUINN CUNDERTOL BRIAR THORNE ADENN VIZSLA​

GAERIEL VALERII CUTH HULU HAN TUNROSS​

ALANA GLENCROSS CAPT. MORGAN ALESH​

LIZBIT COMSTOCK NISKAT DEENVER DORVAN FIESTA​

MAXXOLO GRAP ZONKO LYRISS BECKI MORLAN​

HORST PENN JOLLA PIC ARON RODDERS​

EPONETTE TERNARDIEL FALENE TRIESTE DALTON WARD​

NELLY WIZMARK THUM WOWCIN GARY ZONKA​

TAG: Bardan_Jusik for such an incredible ride that it pains me went my way and not his. All the same, I hope I have done the Final justice with this post, the game parts of which he reviewed prior to my posting

 

Sub-GM Post!

103rd Premiership Final
(2)Kuat Triforce at (1)Kessel Runners (13-12)

Congratulations to the Kuat Triforce, 277 Premiership Cup champions!
TAG: Polydroxol

 

GM Post

• No sight of Christine Gamble for 277 ELL All-Star Game; rumors fly that she has left the planet.
• Gamble's teammate Ava Killenger quoted as saying: "I don't know where she is. She didn't tell me anything about not showing up for the game."
• Conspiracy theories fly that Killenger is hiding something from the media and fans.
• "We may be looking at another Kasin Urdaaza situation," says one prominent conspiracy theorist.
• Hapes Buccaneer Melina Havelock has been named to the Solo Conference ASG team as emergency reservist
• No wonder on whether Havelock will arrive in time for the game
• Veteran Senators Maff Biskis (HF) and Tank Bratter (HB) retire

TAG: Jedi Gunny Vehn

 

​

IC: Charles "Chuck" Bonaven
Visitors locker room, Kabukk Stadium, Rwookrrorro, Kashyyyk following the the 277 Galactic Cup Championship

Chuck stood in the locker room, his back up against the wall. There were no words spoken between coach and players. Braun simply gave them all a look and then began going around the room giving each player a hug. The players, knowing Felp's plan were saying their own goodbyes. The Mandalorians on the team seemed resigned to it. They were used to moving on from a place, though moving on from the Mercs, their national team would be difficult.

Lieznam though was inconsolable. There were tears in his eyes, though they didn't flow freely as he tried to fight them back. He had several chances towards the end of the game to get the Mercs back within striking distance, He had called the right play, "Red Right 88, Red Right 88," could be heard along the sidelines even over the crazed shouts of the fans on both sides. But the Miner's goaltender knocked the shots all aside. Even his attempt to put a point above the bar (to set up a game tying back of the netter) clanged off the pipes. In the final minutes he had gone cold, but determined to get things going himself he hadn't passed off to a well covered Daryc. Who knows what could have happened if he had tried, it may not have made a difference, but to Johnny Limmie it made all the difference in the galaxy. He had the game in his hands and he blew it. He blew it and along with it any chance for this group to ever win the title. Some players would certainly get picked up by other squads, some might even get a chance at a title someday. But not with this group. For the Mercs the season was over and they had come up just short...

Chuck knew what awaited them all when they got back to Mandalore. Throngs of fans would cheer them for getting farther than anyone would have dreamt possible. There would be excitement for next season among those fans who didn't know what Chuck was being told to do. But the players, they all knew and it saddened the General Manager to know that he would have to destroy this team, and
along with it the hopes and dreams of players and fans alike. All to satisfy the whim of a spoiled woman who neither knew nor cared about the lives she would affect through her decision. He didn't want to do it. He couldn't do it.

The realization stuck him suddenly. He really couldn't do it. He had grown to love this team, the players, the coaches and the fans over the past season. He didn't want to see it end this way and he was suddenly determined that he wouldn't be the instrument of the team's destruction. Felps might have her way in the end, but Chuck was done helpining her achieve her goals. He clutched at the data pad that he always had with him. It was full of scouting reports for ELL, PLL, LFL and even college teams. His whole life was on this data pad. He connected to the Kashyyyk holo-net grid and sent a simple two word message to Ms. Felps back on Mandalore. "I quit." That sent, he erased the contents of the pad and went around the locker room, hugging the players for the last time...

---

IC: Rak'el Felps (NPC)
Team Owner's office, Meshla Vhetin, Mandalore

Her legs up on the desk, Felps sat alone in the dark drinking her champagne. She had intended to go to the game on Kashyyyk, she couldn't really not at least try to make it. But the thought of watching Mercs victory celebration turned her stomach. Of course watching the Miners take home the title made her regret that decision, she had to celebrate in private now, but at least she was the one left celebrating. Now the off season would begin, and she and Charles would destroy the team that had come so close to ruining her plans. They would allow all the free agents to leave and trade any assets worth trading. The team would be utterly devastated to see their title contending team torn down, there was no way they would come out to support the Mercs after she was through gutting the roster. The league would have no choice but to support her desire to move the team. Hell, they would probably be begging her to do it.

The comm system on her desk chimed. Swinging her legs off of the desk she saw it was a simple text message from Charlie. "I Quit." That was certainly unexpected. She had believed that she had the rotund mouse of a man squarely under her thumb. She would now have to bring in another General Manager to do her bidding. But that was for another day, for tonight was for celebrating. She smiled to herself and took another sip.

"Drinking away your sorrows aruetii?" the voice startled her and she nearly dropped the glass. "Who?" she let out, but the question was somewhat answered as shadow resolved itself into the form of someone in Mandalorian armor. "Or is this a premature celebration?"

Felps smiled wickedly now. This intruder was about to see the error of his (her?) ways. She pressed the button triggering the silent alarm. Security would be here in moments. Felps may not have enjoyed many aspects of living on Mandalore, but even she had to admit that they were aggressive in their security precautions. The Mandalorian simply coked his (her?) head. "That will do no good. It seems that your guards, your Mandalorian guards, are all on break." Felp's smile faded. "Perhaps had we not discovered your plot they would have saved you..."

Felps face turned to stone. They knew. Chuck had warned her what would happen if they found out, and now they had. But how much did they know? Maybe she could still talk her way out of this. "They are under contract, I though Mandalorian were a people of their word," she scoffed back, trying to maintain her arrogant air and control the situation.

"Matters of honor take precedence, and your attempts to dishonor all of Manda'yaim will not go unpunished."

So much for that the twi'lek thought to herself. She stood up slowly, preparing to make a run for it when the chance presented itself. She continued to speak though, an attempt to keep the Mandalorian she faced off guard. "And in what form is this punishment to take?"

The answer surprised her.

"You will sign these." The Mandalorian produced a set of flimsiplast sheets. One in a stack, the other just a single sheet. "What...what are they?"

The Mandalorian set the stack on the desk and motioned for Felps to sit down. Suddenly scared she did so. "These are...estate planning documents. They detail the status of the team in the event of your death." Felps eyes grew wide at that. "They have been appropriately backdated to when you assumed ownership of the team. Their legality will not be questioned."

Felps indicated the single sheet which the Mandalorian was still holing on to. "And....that one?" Felps asked, her voice trembling for she already knew.

"That one is your suicide note," the Mandalorian stated flatly. "Distraught over the finals loss you relay an inability to take the stress of ownership and demonstrate a desire to be with your late husband. Forever."

Felps nodded, the Mandalorian's intentions were clear. But they couldn't force her to commit suicide. "And if I refuse?"

The Mandalorian pulled a disruptor pistol. "I am to facilitate your follow through."

felp's wicked grin returned. "It won't look like a suicide of you shoot me from over there, and if I struggle there isn't a court in the Galaxy, not even one here on Mandalore, that won't see through what is happening."

Still training his (her?) blaster on Felps the Mandalorian slid a pen across the desk to her. "Please, I am a professional. I could shoot you from Kyrimorut and still achieve the desired effect."

Felps saw no reason to doubt the being. She began to see that there was no way out of this, still she tried. "And my incentive to help you?"

"Simple, if you agree your death will be painless. If not..." The Mandalorian let the statement trail off.

Felps gulped, looking over the array of blades and weaponry on the Mandalorians red and black armor. Pain frightened her even more than death. She broke. "Very well." She grabbed the pen and signed the documents and then the suicide note. "How did you know?"

The Mandalorian reached into a pouch on his (her?) belt and removed a small pill, sliding it across the desk to her. "My employer has always known. He just wanted me to wait for the opportune moment." The disruptor pistol came up again. Looking down its maw, Felps took the pill and swallowed it with one long last pull from her champagne glass.

"How long do I...." and then everything became black.

---

IC: ???
Team Owner's office, Meshla Vhetin, Mandalore

The target slumped over and the Mandalorian moved quickly. Making sure to not touch the body she first ensured that Felps was indeed dead. That part of the mission accomplished she then took the estate planning documents and placed them in the team owner's safe. One time access had been granted to her by her employer, though she was certain she could have cracked the codes on her own. However, that would have left evidence of her presence here, and that was something that couldn't be allowed, even with assurance of where the investigation would lead.

The job done now, she glanced about the room, doing a final check to make sure she hadn't missed something. In doing so, the Mandalorian looked to the holo to see her old nemesis hoisting the Cup. Alana Glencross had done much to earn the her on field success. That was a particular success that the Mandalorian would never know. But hopefully though her actions here the people of Manda'yaim would one day hoist a cup of their own. The Mandalorian nodded to herself. Her life after meshgeroya had been spent fighting worthy causes and for worthy goals, and for Ryi Kor'le that was success enough.

TAG: No one.

OOC: Thus ends my Major League tribute (though one can see the inspiration of James Bond: Tomorrow Never Dies in this scene as well). It was a hell of a season and I must say my run to the playoffs was most unexpected. Hopefully I get another taste of them soon. Congratulations to Trieste and the Miners for their Galactic Cup win. I will return next season with a new PC (who will hopefully be a familiar character to you all) once I get the Character Sheet finalized and approved.

 

IC: Falene Trieste
Miner offices
Three weeks after the conclusion of the 277 Elite League Limmie season



“I thought I was going to be a hands off owner,” Falene said, sitting down in Cundertol’s office, the proverbial lair of the Smug Dragon. The victory parades had long been concluded and the Galactic Cup was about to start its rounds with the team. Even so, the business of the offseason could not wait.

“There are certain decisions I can’t make,” her Aunt Regan said from her position in one of the other chairs in the office, “because I don’t control the money.”

“So that’s what this is about,” Falene said simply.

“Indeed,” Cundertol brooded, fingers steepled in front of his face.

“After the season concluded, Quinn and Briar looked at the books. As you know, we have five expiring contracts,” Regan said.

“Me, Max, Alana, Aron, and Niskat,” Falene said. She might stay out of the day-to-day, but she did pay attention to the contract status of her teammates.

“Correct,” Regan said, “As you know, Aron’s retiring. But that still leaves three very, very big names right there. You and Alana have been nominated for the Salbukk Award during their careers and Alana’s won it twice. Frankly had it not been for Lizbit coming out of nowhere, Niskat would have had an Ingbrand nomination, maybe even a win, three years ago.”

“I play with them,” Falene said, “I don’t need to be told what kind of an impact they have on the team’s performance.”

“Good, because we have a money problem,” Cundertol said crisply.

“Excuse me?” Falene said in sudden shock.

“I have 40 million credits for salaries. That’s the number your mother set and you instructed me to follow,” Cundertol said tersely, “I’ve been able to do that since I started, but I won’t be able to do it next season. With our committed salaries for next season, there isn’t enough to resign everyone at market value.”

“I’ve already thought about it and I’m going to take the league minimum salary in my new contract,” Falene said, “That buys us space, right?”

“Knowing you as he did, Quinn already factored that in,” Regan said, “and it still doesn’t buy us enough room.”

“It would have, except for the championship bonuses,” Cundertol said in a clipped voice, “It’s going to spill over into next season’s salary pool.”

Falene slumped in her seat and tilted her head back as she took this in. She exhaled through her nose before she looked back at the Chairwoman and General Manager. “Look, I kept Mom’s salary number because I didn’t have time to get deep into the numbers after I took over and it seemed like a good idea. Can’t I just throw more credits at this?”

“It’s the simplest solution,” Cundertol observed.

“But, as I discussed with Quinn privately when he first brought this issue to my attention, our internal cap is there for a reason. When I was Chair 20 years ago during the war, your mother told me why we have a cap,” Regan said, “For all of our success, we are a relatively small market team. Allow me to demonstrate.”

Regan threw up a bar graph on one of Quinn’s vidscreens. “I made a light inquiry with the Membership Committee as to who might be the teams that get promoted. Denon is doing well in the GCLA, so they’re on the table. Kuat won the Premiership, so they’re on the table. Both are being very strongly considered for promotion according to beings I’ve talked with on the Membership Committee. Stewjon’s in the mix, but not as seriously.”



Falene already saw the problem. The graph showed the population figures for the other Elite League worlds, plus their stadium capacity, and compared them to Bakura’s.

“We don’t have exact population numbers for Agamar, Euceron, or Ylesia, but right now the only planets in the Elite League with a smaller population than Bakura are Agamar and Mandalore--and that doesn’t count the Mandalorian diaspora that probably understates their fanbase. For the record, Corsucant has a population of about a quadrillion, Denon is about 500 billion, and Nar Shaddaa about 85 billion. They’re literally off the charts,” Regan said, “On top of that, once Ylesia renovates their stadium, Bakura Gardens will be the smallest stadium in the League. In fact, the next largest stadium--Hapes--is going to have more than twice our capacity.”

“So we sell less tickets, even if we sell out every game, and our media rights deal is worth less because we reach less people,” Falene said.

“Precisely,” Cundertol said gravely.

“And a vast expansion of the Miners’ salary expense line threatens the profitability of the team,” Falene said, “I’d have to start pumping money into the team to sustain it. And that’s money that means selling assets or reducing distributions to the House.”

“Indeed,” Regan said, “and though we could all get by on less, I don’t think it’s going to be a pretty picture when you tell some of us that’s the case.” She didn’t need to do a stage cough to tell Falene that certain members of the Lynd clan and the Nouvelle Orleans Triestes would not take that well.

Falene knew there was money to play with in the Noble House’s income. Their holdings and investments generally turned a profit, but she’d learned that the Noble House attempted to be as socially responsible as possible in its investments. It wasn’t just about making credits--it was about providing beings with good employment as well. The surplus income that the House generated often went into underperforming businesses to sustain beings in their jobs, though never as a long-term solution to a business that shouldn’t survive.

“What about a short-term solution? Just tide us over for a bit?” Falene suggested, the idea coming to her.

“Comstock, Ternardiel, Pic, Alesh, and Morlan all have contract negotiations next year,” Cundertol said simply.

Falene cursed aloud and looked back up at the ceiling as she slumped. They’d have the same problem again next year--and maybe worse. They were all young players. None of them were going to retire like Rodders. And there were names in there that the Miners would be foolish to lose, even if 278 was a total disaster.

“We can’t expand the salary pool,” Falene said, shaking her head, “I can’t do it.”

“I was prepared for that answer,” Cundertol said, leaning forward, really engaging in the conversation for the first time, “Other teams will offer Deenever and Glencross large contracts if they become free agents.”

“Niskat won’t sign anywhere else,” Falene said.

“I know you two are close, but you do not understand how much credits she is going to see as a free agent,” Cundertol said seriously, “When you start to see numbers like that, beings do not do rational things.”

“Alana’s played her entire career here. She wrote no trade clauses into her contracts. She won’t want to leave,” Falene said confidently, “She’ll accept a lower salary to make things work.”

“The problem is that she now has a life outside of limmie. She has a son. For all we know she’s got a second one on the way already. After the way she played this past season, she probably thinks popping a kid out is a good luck charm,” Cundertol said, “Alana Glencross could walk away from the game today. Three Galactic Cup championships make a being a lot of credits. When you are as smart as her you’ve also been planning for the future. She’s 33--which means that she’s at a point where she might realistically consider retirement. Moving forward with her is a risk as it stands. She could be entering years of declining return.”

“So we still have a problem if keep Alana and Niskat at market value and sign me to a minimum contract?” Falene said.

“Niskat Deenever is part of the future of the Miners. Alana is its present. I’ve watched her play carefully all season long. She still has it. But signing her means that we can’t invest in the future. The question is whether this team is in a win-now mode or a time-for-young-stars-to-step-up mode,” Cundertol said.

It was a dilemma. Falene hated to walk away from Alan. She was part of the core of players who had taken the Miners to renewed heights and she had just had a fantastic season. If Aron and Alana both went, the media was going to go ballistic. Two of their marquee players leaving at the same time--it would reek of a fire sale, even if both of them left due to retirement.

“There is another option,” Regan said, cutting in between Falene’s thoughts.

“And that is?” Falene asked with interest.

“You’re not going to like it, but it gets us the salary room we need.”

“Hit me with it.”

---

Press briefing room, Miner offices, Salis D’aar, Bakura
One week later

“Good morning,” Quinn Cundertol said, “Though you usually have the pleasure of dealing with me for your briefings--” the press corps snickered as any interaction with the Smug Dragon was often quite the opposite, “--today I am merely here to introduce team owner and starting half back Falene Trieste.”

Falene stepped up to the podium. This was the first time she had ever addressed the press as owner. Actually, now that she thought about it she wasn’t sure. Had she ever done so before? Maybe she had. In any event, flashes attached to cameras popped rapidly in front of her. The press knew that if she had something to say, it was going to be big.

“Obviously, we just had a fantastic season,” Falene said, “I cannot tell you how proud I am of the team. I know I’ve said this before in other venues, but we really wish Aron well in retirement. He’s a very intelligent guy who has been a big part of our success as a team. We’re going to miss him and we hope he does great things off the field as well as on it.

“However, we cannot rest on our laurels. The 278 season will be here before we know it. I met with Quinn and my Aunt Regan to discuss the future direction of the Miners. To that end, in the immediate future we face some financial realities regarding the team. Our Galactic Cup championship brought with it some very deserved championship bonuses. As a team, the Miners spent to our internal salary cap figure in 277. Accordingly, we are going to count those bonuses towards our 278 salary figure as a pro forma matter. Luckily the Elite League doesn’t have a salary cap or we might be in trouble.” Falene smiled to try to alleviate some of the tension.

“However, this does have an impact on 278’s salary calculations--impact in the downward direction. As a result, some hard decisions had to be made.

“First off, the team will not be renewing Maxx Grap’s contract. Maxx has been a big part of our two championships, but after negotiations we’ve found he is asking for a contract that the team can’t commit to,” Falene said, “We wish him luck in free agency and don’t look forward to playing against him this season

“Secondly, I am pleased to announce that team captain Alana Glencross will return to the Miners on a new three year contract. She is going to continue to provide the veteran leadership presence that this team needs to win.

“Third, we have signed Niskat Deenever to a new four year contract to shore up the front end. Our hope is that Niskat will provide some of the leadership that a veteran like Aron takes with him.

“However, these contracts have severely cut into the Miners salary pool for 278. This meant that we faced a situation of going over budget if we continued on this course. However, after reviewing all of our options, we found one that makes these contracts work without putting the numbers out of kilter.”

Falene took a deep breath before proceeding.

“I am announcing today that the Bakura Miners will not participate in the 278 Elite League Limmie Draft,” Falene said. Cameras flashed immediately upon the end of the sentence. This was major news.

“The reason we are not going to be in the draft this year is that we cannot afford to sign three players to the League minimum-salary for a drafted player, which is higher than the league minimum. Even if we could, first round and second round picks often require more credits beyond the minimum to actually come to an agreement with them. We just don’t have those credits.

“Let me be clear: this was ultimately my decision. I acted in consultation with my Aunt Regan as Chairwoman, Quinn as GM, and Coach Valerii, but in the end the decision was mine,” Falene continued, “We have a championship caliber team now. We proved it on Kashyyyk. I am committed to the Miners being competitive now. To have let either Alana or Niskat go now would have immediately put this team into a rebuilding mode and that was something I was not willing to do.

“Obviously we have a hole at corner back right now and that’s something that I’m going to trust that Quinn will fill using the credits he has available to him, of which there are some. We’ll look hard at non-drafted players and put our scouting system out in the field to see if there are any gems we can find outside the draft. I think we’ve done pretty well at doing that so I’m not worried that we’re putting ourselves at a disadvantage by taking this road.

“I imagine that you’ve all got some questions, so I’ll take a few,” Falene said. She called on one of the many hands that went up.

“Falene, you’re Taoiseach of the Noble House. Do you seriously expect ordinary Bakurans to believe that you couldn’t pump a little extra money into the team to participate in this year’s Draft?” the first reporter challenged her, “We all know you’ve got it.”

“That’s a very valid point,” Falene said, “Ever since my family purchased the Miners, we’ve adhered to sensible, sustainable financial principle. Just like the average Bakuran family, we have a budget. We live within our means. This season, that meant making a really hard decision, just like regular Bakurans have to do sometimes.”

“Falene, couldn’t this be viewed as an incredibly stupid idea?” one reporter challenged, “I mean, you’re risking the future of the franchise with this move. The Miners are missing their chance on the best players in the galaxy, the stars of tomorrow, by skipping the draft.”

“Yeah, we’re taking a risk. If we tank in the next three years, then we’ll know I made the wrong decision and you can say ‘I told you so,’” Falene said, “but I believe in this team as it’s constituted now. We faced a decision of tearing up a championship roster or keeping it together for the near-term. I liked the first option a lot better.”

“Falene, did you sign a new contract too?” a third reporter asked, “Yours was slated to expire as well.”

Falene knocked herself on her head with one palm. “Oh yeah. I did. Even though team policy is not to disclose the terms of a deal, I’ll tell you that I took the League minimum salary. I did what I could to alleviate this financial problem, but we still had it after that.”

“Falene, what will you say to the beings in the galaxy who say that the Miners are being elitist and saying that they’re too good for the draft?”

“Well…” Falene paused and considered her next words, “I guess I’d say that yeah, we had a pretty darn good season and we’d love to be at the draft, but...well, to quote a favorite holo drama of mine: ‘Can’t do it, Sally.’ And let’s be honest, I’m pretty sure we were going to have targets on our backs all season anyways. If anything hopefully they’ll be a bit smaller because somebody else got two players that we would have otherwise taken in the Draft. However, I don’t really think that’s going to be the case. Thanks very much everyone.”

If Falene Trieste hadn’t put her mark on the Miners before, she certainly had now.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Polydroxol Rebecca_Daniels Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn because of draft effects

 

Mock Draft, v 1.0​

​

Coruscant Senators – Kosh Ul’kesh, Goalkeeper, University of Agamar

The Senators need help at every position. Ul’kesh can only play one position at a time, unfortunately, but at least he can be a rock in between the pipes. Given how pathetic the Senator defense has been the prior two seasons, they desperately need a steadying presence in goal that they haven’t had since Tavis Corizyl retired after the 270 season.

Kuat Triforce - Noj Elbog (Human, Male, Corner Forward, National University)

The Triforce intend to make a splash in the Elite League after winning the Premier League this prior season. Adding Elbog would be a good idea. They could also go Ul’kesh if the Senators pass on him, but we doubt they will, so Elbog is a good choice for boosting the Kuat offense.

Ylesia Lightning - Rhia Saunders (Human, Female, Druckenwell Technical University)

The Lightning seem to be undergoing a time of radical shifts in their organization. If they are willing to take more humans, then we can easily see them taking Saunders here. She isn’t the highest-rated forward in the Draft, but should make an impact immediately with a Lightning offense that struggled all year.

Euceron Storm - Lou Jeffers (Human, Male, Full Back, Imperial College of Bastion)

Euceron had a hard time of it in the second half of last season, and we’re wondering if that was because some of their defense is starting to age. Adding Jeffers would infuse some youth into this defensive group.

Rydonni Prime Monarchs - Laura Cellen (Human, Female, Forward, Grand Vulpter System University)

The Monarchs love taking GVSU players, and Cellen’s a good prospect. Should be a win on both accounts.

Agamar Packers - Jordan Horste (Togruta, Male, Right Half Back, Ralltiir University)

Agamar still needs some change on defense, and Horstse should be a good prospect coming out of a small college. He won’t make a ton of impact right away, but it’s a start for a Packers defense in need of rebuilding.

Ralltiir Starkillers - Lena Roselli (Hapan, Female, Defensive Back, Royal College of Hapes)

The Starkillers don’t need offense, although theirs stalled out in the second half of last season after a blistering start. They really don’t need defense, although if they keep their pick taking Roselli is a good idea.

Nar Shaddaa Smugglers - Leia Adama (Human, Female, Full Forward, UB Telaan Valley)

The Smugglers would love nothing more than to exact revenge for this past season’s loss to Bakura by turning around and bashing the Miners over the head with a hometown girl. Adama gives them the chance to do just that; plus she has the namesake to boot.

Mando’ade Mercs - Deluxx (Weequay, Male, Full Back, University of Tatooine, Anchorhead)

The Mercs sorely missed a hard-hitter at the end of last season, with a defense that couldn’t stop anyone when stops were sorely needed. Adding such a talented and big prospect as Deluxx would be a no-brainer here, even though his Draft stock is low on the rankings. We’d rather take him here than risk trying to get him to fall into the second or third rounds.


Second Round:

Coruscant Senators – Sharsy Wenips (Zeltron, Female, Midfielder, University of Euceron at Awuca)
Kuat Triforce - Vex Blooker (Zabrak, Male, Corner Back, Citadel University of Anaxes)
Ylesia Lightning - Rhonda Gabor (Human, Female, Forward, Republican University)
Euceron Storm - Elgin Cormorant (Umbaran, Male, Midfielder, UB Cape Suzette)
Rydonni Prime Monarchs - Zelena Wiles (Human, Female, Half Back, Prytis College of Natural Sciences)
Agamar Packers - Ellie Knott (Human, Female, Midfielder, University of Agamar)
Ralltiir Starkillers - Lowatha (Wookiee, Male, Half Forward, University of Kashyyyk)
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers - Tadhara Tunni (Devaronian, Female, Half Forward, University of Kuat)
Mando’ade Mercs - Megan Meeks (Human, Female, Corner Forward, The Ord Saboak University)

Third Round:

Coruscant Senators - Quinlyn Zha'rel (Half-Nagai, Female, Defensive Back, Sposia Medical University)
Kuat Triforce - Garvin Stommer (Human, Male, Half Forward, University of Corellia, Bella Vistal)
Ylesia Lightning - Laqis Turnud (Devaronian, Female, Full Back, University of Devaron)
Euceron Storm - Callie Polarez (Human, Female, Forward, Brentaal College of Commerce)
Rydonni Prime Monarchs - Olle Quiver (Human, Male, Forward, University of Myrkyr)
Agamar Packers - Sula Le’kri (Bothan, Female, Full Forward, Bothawui School of Business)
Ralltiir Starkillers - Alynn Tran (Togruta, Female, Half Back, University of Shili)
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers - Ric Anderson (Human, Male, Midfielder, Tanaab A&M)

Mando’ade Mercs - Welnlseh (Selkath, Male, Corner Back, Manaan Technical Institute)

TAGS to Polydroxol, Rebecca_Daniels, jcgoble3, CPL_Macja, Tim Battershell, Runjedirun, Vehn, Bardan_Jusik, Trieste (who won't be drafting, but might enjoy it anyways )

 

IC: Ava Killenger
Room, Hotel, Naboo

The banging on the door got louder, and Ava could hear more voices outside. “Open up, dammit!” one loudmouth shouted, obviously right next to the door.

“Give us a frakking answer!” another voice chimed in.

“You’re obligated to answer our questions!” came a third.

Ava was curled up on her bed in the hotel room, having to listen to all the abuse coming from the media members and assorted others outside in the hall. Ever since Christine Gamble had left the prior day after getting a complete dressing down from the media, they were now after her. She had spoken to them quickly earlier in the day, but now they were banging on her door and preventing her from having any peace of mind. They had been at this for two hours already, and she hoped that once the game got a little closer they would disappear. But time marched steadily forwards, and it just seemed like more voices appeared from out of the blue to harass her.

She wondered what had been going through Christine’s head when she had made that fateful decision to walk out of the interview in a huff. What had the third-year corner been trying to accomplish? Was she that arrogant? What under the surface of their conversation two days earlier did the rookie not know? Most of all, she wanted to know why Christine would leave without telling her. They were best friends, Ava thought, so why if Christine was going to leave did she not say anything? Now Ava was stuck with the baggage, and was too scared to even go near her hotel room door in case the reporters finally bashed it down and assaulted her with questions.

She had seen the interview gone awry the prior day on the nightly news. Christine’s disappearance had made Breaking News on all the major networks, with ticker updates going on about speculation of where she had gone, why she had left, and most importantly what was going to happen now. There were rumors that Melina Havelock of the Hapes Consortium Buccaneers was going to be brought in as Christine’s emergency replacement for the game, but some prominent media members knew that this possibility was not likely. Hapes was too far from Naboo to make such an instant trip possible; it was likely the Solo Conference would be one player short for the game later that day.

But what really hurt Ava were some of the stories coming out today on prominent media networks. Some stupid conspiracy theories had arisen regarding Christine’s disappearance, and for some reason she had been called out as potentially hiding something from the media. That was a ludicrous notion, Ava knew, because she hadn’t heard from Christine before she left. How could she possibly be in on this debacle? But the media had convinced themselves that there was something big going on here, and if they could pump the rookie forward for information, they hoped to find whatever bag of gold they figured was at the end of the info trail. After all, Kasin Urdaaza’s disappearance was still fresh in the minds of many, and had unfortunately made some of this conclusion-jumping possible. Ava wanted it to go away, but it was going to keep haunting her.

She turned on the Holo set in her room with the remote, which she could barely see in the dark given that she had closed her blinds already. At least one camera droid had been whizzing around her window earlier on, and she didn’t want any of that. Hopefully there weren’t any sound-capture devices tapping into her room, because then the media was invading her privacy. What they were doing already was insane, but if they were spying on her . . . who could she trust anymore?

However, the problems instantly began when the sound on the set was too high on startup, and the reporters outside started to yell that she had turned on her Holo. Obviously this was cutting-edge journalism in the sports media market, Ava thought as she quickly muted the broadcast. It was showing a feed from a droid hovering around the hotel, with a ticker going on the bottom that said “Ava Killenger not responding to requests for interview.” A reporter was standing in a hotel hallway, likely in this building given the whole media circus. Ava turned the sound up slightly to hear.

No, she has not come out of her room since the interview earlier today. All requests to get her to come out have not been answered.”

“Do you think she is hiding something?” a commentator asked.

”Possibly. She is acting strangely not to be answering”, the reporter replied.

But Ava knew that the network wasn’t showing the living hell that she was living in right now. They decided not to show the throng of reporters stacked up around her door trying to get her to come out. She had heard catcalls, rude yells, and at least once a reporter had tried to slip a recording device under her door. She had finally jammed a bath towel under the door to prevent something from getting in, but the media had responded to that as well as being stalling for time. That had just furthered their craze for pumping information from her, even though she had already said she didn’t know where Christine was.

Then her comlink rang. The media started to murmur that she was receiving a call, and undoubtedly some recording devices were slapped onto the door to listen in, because Ava could hear some slaps coming from the other side of the sturdy stop.

“Hel-lo?” she asked shakily.

“Ava, honey, is that you?” came a familiar voice.

“Mom?” Ava asked. She hoped it was her mother; it was her number.

“So glad I was able to contact you. You’ve been on the news all day. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Ava said quietly. The hallway had become deathly quiet. “These media types have me trapped in my hotel room, and I can’t go out.” Then she heard a tap on the window, and knew that something was right outside. She hobbled off the bed and tried to slide her way from the bed. But the boot was too loud, and each step she took with it caused a loud-enough thump to be heard by sensitive recorders. The media likely knew she was moving.

“She’s on the move,” she could hear one media member say from outside.

Ava went over to the closet and hid inside. Luckily for her, the closet opened up on the other side of a bedroom wall, so she wasn’t right next to the exterior wall. Hopefully this would keep her quiet, she figured. She closed the closet door and held her breath.

“Can’t you call for security?” her mom asked.

“I don’t know. Can a guard or two deal with fifty media members who are . . . hold on,” Ava said. Now the media members were bashing on the door again. This time they weren’t just tapping; they were slamming their fists on it. Ava just held out the comlink so that her mom could hear the shouting.

“Open up, you filthy rookie!”

“Get out here and answer our questions, or we’re going to break in and skin you alive!”

“You’re going to wish you had come out here when we’re done with you!”

It was amazing the door stayed up on its hinges with the pounding it was receiving. Ava silently hoped the thing would hold, but could it really stay upright for another few hours before the pre-game stuff drew them away?

“Ava, are you in a secure location?” her mother asked.

“Nowhere is safe, mom,” Ava said, almost crying. “I wanna go home.”

“You’re going to have to face them at some point, honey. Or else they won’t leave you alone.”

“Mom, I can see why Christine left yesterday. These media . . . they’re evil. I hate them,” Ava said. A tear started to descend her cheek as she spoke.

“What do they want from you?”

“They . . . they think I’m at fault for her disappearance.”

“And are you?”

“No, Mom!” Ava hissed. “She never said anything about leaving. I didn’t even talk to her yesterday.”

“Do you possibly know where she went?”

“No,” Ava said again. “I can’t tell these reporters that, because they don’t want me to not know. That isn’t good business for them. I want to just be home and away from all this crap.”

“We’ve had a couple reporters show up to our house and ask us about you. It’s why I called,” her mom said. “Ava, sweetie, you need to do something to stop this before you get hurt. If you don’t know where your friend is, then you’re going to have to stick up for yourself.”

“How can I do that when I’m too scared to leave my room?” Ava asked.

“You’ve overcome more than this, Ava. You can do it again.”

But Ava Killenger wasn’t sure if she could. The pounding on the door was reaching a crescendo, and it scared her. Finally she got in the shower and started the water, but just sat in the tub as it cascaded over her body. Although it should have felt good, it didn’t. Instead, it was a cold, miserable shower.

Needless to say, she didn’t appear at the game that night. Whether it was the reporters or the fans whom she was afraid of, it didn’t matter, just that both of them likely wanted to get her.

---

IC: Gark S’rily
Home

Gark was dumbfounded. Why had Gamble left Naboo? What was she thinking? He hadn’t needed any more reasons to feel terrible about this past season, and now this. What did it take to get some positives out of this, he wanted to know.

He sat on the sofa watching the Holo broadcast from Naboo. All over the headlines were questions about where Christine Gamble was, and what was to be done to find her. Then were the hints that Ava Killenger was somehow hiding something from the media. Gark knew that this was certainly possible, but if Killenger had said she didn’t know, odds were she truly didn’t know Gamble’s whereabouts. He had seen some of the footage of Gamble’s outburst, and although it was expertly edited to try and paint her negatively, something must have set her off, the Bothan knew. He had dealt with the media before; they liked to selectively edit pieces to always come out with a rosy outlook. And he hated it.

Sighing, he flipped the Holo screen’s power off and sat in silence. This was just one more thing he was going to have to deal with in the coming weeks.

Just great.


TAG: No One

 

IC: Falene Trieste
Naboo


(Why this? It’ll all become clear in a moment.)

For the third straight year, Falene was an all-star. This year she would be playing not as a starter, but as a reserve. That was fine by Falene. In watching the second half from the bench, she’d thought that the reserves had the opportunity to be a little sillier and have more fun since they were good players who got to act like they were “second stringers” for a day.

Even though she was a reserve, Falene still went through all of the usual fan events, autograph signings, and hoopla associated with the All-Star Game. With the game coming at the end of the season, it felt like everyone was a lot looser. Falene actually enjoyed her time here rather than having it be an interlude during the pressure of the season. The fact that she was a Galactic Cup champion meant that plenty of fans wanted to see her. Falene was happy to oblige.

But first, there was a little business to take care of.

Falene, Niskat, Alana, and Lizbit powwowed in Deenever’s room once they arrived on planet and had a moment to themselves. They spent half an hour browsing the local Holonet.

“Think this one will work?” Lizbit asked.

“No…” Falene said as they went to the next result.

“How about this one?” Alana said from her datapad.

“Eh...maybe,” Falene said, leaning over.

“Hold up--I think I found it!” Niskat said excitedly.

The other three women rushed over to look over the half forward’s shoulder. “Bingo,” Alana said.

---

Early that morning, before breakfast was even being served in the hotel, the Miner ladies sneaked out of their accommodations. They hailed a hovertaxi and clambered inside.

“This address, please,” Lizbit said, handing a piece of flimsi to the driver, a Gungan.

Twenty minutes later, they were at their destination. “Keep the meter running,” Alana ordered as they hopped out.

The sign over the establishment’s door read, “Nuba’s Pet Emporium,” and the door chimed when it opened. Inside were cases with domestic creatures of all shapes and sizes inside. Several of them looked over at the entry of the three Bakurans and the Bespinite.

“Evening ladies, what can I do you for?” a man behind the counter said. He was probably Nuba.

“Hello there,” Alana said, “We saw your ad on the Holonet.”

“‘Purveyors of unique creatures,’” Lizbit read from her datapad.

“That’s us,” the man said.

“So, we’re looking for something that’s not exactly unique, but we also saw this part of your ad,” Falene said, pointing to some smaller text in the ad.

“Yup, we’ve got plenty of those.”

“We’re looking for these,” Alana asked, pushing a piece of hotel stationery flimsi across the counter with the name of a species written on it.

“And we’re looking for this many of them,” Niskat said, putting down another sheet of flimsi.

---

Forty minutes later, Lizbit poked her head out of the hovertaxi at a much different location.

“Okay, the coast is clear,” she said in a whisper.

With as many boxes as they could carry, Alana, Falene, Lizbit, and Niskat scampered out of the taxi and into The Pond at Theed.

TAG: No one...because this is secret...shhhh…

 

OOC: Many thanks to CPL_Macja Trieste and Jedi Gunny for their help with this


IC: Ty Allin

When I left for Naboo Tomas was mad at me. By extending my stay to spend some extra time with my wife and new baby I would be missing his final Limmie game of the season. I promised to make it up to him by letting him accompany me to the youth camps I was training at during the off-season, but as of the time I left he still wouldn’t even text me back to say good-bye.

By the time we got to Naboo Lucie was mad at me too. She had warned me that T.J. was too little to be on a shuttle for so long. I had told her not to worry, that he would sleep most of the way. Little guy totally made me look bad. He cried almost the entire duration of the flight. Lucie did everything she could to settle him, walked him up and down the aisles, fed him, changed him, rocked him, nothing seemed to sooth him. Until we got in the air taxi to go to our hotel. That’s when he promptly fell asleep.

Once we got to the hotel we unfolded the portable crib provided to us and placed him there. Angrily Lucie stormed around the room complaining about everything. The room wasn’t clean she said, the temperature was too cold she said, they didn’t provide enough blankets she said. “Sweetheart,” I tried. “You’re tired, why don’t you get some rest.”

“I’m hungry, I thought you said we could get something to eat when we got here.”

“Okay, do you want to go out or order in?” I asked getting a connection on my data pad.

“That’s a stupid question, T.J. is asleep, we order in,” she stated in an annoyed tone. She disappeared into the fresher and then I heard a scream.

“What is it honey?” I asked from the other side of the door.

She came running out, “Some kind of bug,” she said with a repulsed look on her face.

I went in to see if I could find it. Sure enough as soon as I entered the fresher I could hear it, it was chirping. It wasn’t just a small bug either it was a pretty good sized thing. I reached down to pick it up so I could toss it out a window, but it jumped. Impressive little creature. After a few more tries I was able to capture it between my hands. I carried it through the room, Lucie glaring at me the whole time and I opened the door to the courtyard and tossed him outside. “All taken care of,” I told her with a smile.

She was not pleased though, quickly I found out what she wanted for dinner and ordered the food. Once she ate she calmed down some. That night as we settled in to bed I could hear a chorus of those bugs outside chirping. It was different from the city noises in Cambrielle and for a long time I couldn’t sleep. It gave me an idea, after all I had been elected assistant captain of the Solo Conference All-Star team. That meant I was supposed to lead them, lead them in what…well no one had been specific about that.

The next morning after breakfast we had our first practice with the rest of the Solo Conference players. Before practice I gathered Andres, Alyda and Loren to tell them my plan. “For once,” Loren said “I’m not going to be on the receiving end of one of your pranks.”

“So you’re in?” I asked her.

She nodded. “She and I will ask the other offensive players if they would like to participate,” Andres assured me.

Alyda looked a little less certain, “I don’t want to touch any bugs,” she warned me.

“You won’t have to,” I assured her. “You’ll want to come along though,” I encouraged. “And when they walk out on the field for warm ups the look on their faces will be priceless I guarantee you.”

“Either they’ll be too shook up to play at all, or fired up and out for revenge,” Hovechar warned me.

“You can outrun anyone on the Limmie pitch,” I reminded her. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“True enough,” she replied coolly.

“But don’t let the C-Buccs players know about this,” I warned. “We don’t want Chambers-Vayne hearing about it ahead of time and trying to stop us.”

Once I had an idea in my head my players knew better than to try and stop me. So when we arrived at practice we split into our separate groups and asked around to see who wanted to participate. The defensive players were fairly easy to convince. The one holdout was Christine Gamble. Due to Ava Killenger’s injury she was the only Senator representative and I understood her hesitation.

My original plan had been to go collect the bugs ourselves. The fields behind the hotel had to be full of them considering the constant hum I had heard the night before. However, I was blessed to have so many intelligent women as teammates. Hovechar reported back that Alana Glencross had volunteered herself and the other Miners players to buy a supply of the bugs at a local pet store.

The news from the offense was good as well. Vesper Lynd was so excited about the idea of a prank that she wanted to add more shenanigans. She suggested fresher papering the locker room and removing the fresher seats. I admired her spunk. I suggested that we stick to the bugs and add fresher paper rolling. If we took things too far there was no telling what the retaliation may be later. If I was elected an all-star next year I was already making plans to put guards on our locker room a full day out from the game.

We arrived at the Skywalker Conference’s locker room early in the morning the day of the All-Star game. It was about an hour before sunrise. The Miner’s player’s brought the bugs as promised. Vesper and her teammates brought all the rolls of fresher paper they could carry. We began with the fresher paper. We streamed it on the ceiling, hung it from the lockers and unraveled it all over the floor covering every possible inch. Then on our way out we released the bugs. Hovechar was already waiting outside before a single container was opened which gave me cause for a chuckle already. I just couldn’t wait to hear the reaction when the Skywalker Conference walked in here. Hopefully one of the ladies on their team would scream loud enough to hear in our own locker room.

At breakfast we all did our best to keep our cool, we still had to keep this from the C-Buccs after all. Excitedly I boarded the shuttle from the hotel to the game. This was going to be an All-Star game to remember. Next year maybe I’d be voted full captain. Wouldn’t that be something.

Tags: Bardan_Jusik Vehn Tim Battershell jcgoble3 and Rebecca_Daniels

 

GM Post

HSN Morning Headlines

• Charles "Chuck" Bonaven resigns as General Manager of the Mando'ade Mercs
• Mando'ade Mercs owner Ra'kel Felps found dead in her office of apparent suicide. Mandalorian authorities are investigating
• Lokensgaard furious at behavior of media towards Senator players in advance of the All-Star Game
• Commissioner: “This is harassment. These players are playing for fans and for charity. They do not deserve treatment like this.”
• Press passes for several organizations have been rescinded for this season and the 278 season
• Deputy Commissioner Gondorf confirms she is coordinating with local Naboo authorities on exploring criminal penalties against offending individuals
• Mando’ade Mercs receive fourth overall pick from Euceron Storm in 278 draft in exchange for ninth and eighteenth picks in 278
• Mercs then send fourth overall pick along with twenty-seventh overall selection to Ralltiir Starkillers for Ralltiir’s first and third round picks in 279
• Mercs no longer have picks in the the 278 draft as a result of trades

---

Because this is the all-star game (unless it’s Major League Baseball where it matters), which no one takes seriously and the score is usually ridiculously high, I have decided upon some higher score potential for this game. Each 15 minute interval will the potential for 15 points (instead of 10) to be scored. Considering that the Pro Bowl featured a 260% increase over the average NFL game score, a 50% increase in scoring potential is rather conservative.

Because I felt like it and for no other good reason, I have made the Skywalker Conference team the home team because they won the Commissioner’s Trophy.

Without further ado, the premiere of the Random.org number generator!

277 ELL All-Star Game Result
The Pond at Theed, Theed, Naboo
15:00 left in 1st half: Solo Conference vs. Skywalker Conference (15-9)
Halftime: Solo Conference vs. Skywalker Conference (19-12)
15:00 left in 2nd half: Solo Conference vs. Skywalker Conference (28-14)
End of regulation: Solo Conference vs. Skywalker Conference (40-26)

---

278 Elite League Draft Round 1 Schedule

1. Coruscant Senators (July 22)
2. Kuat Triforce (July 23)
3. Ylesia Lightning (July 24)
4. Ralltiir Starkillers (July 25)
5. Rydonni Prime Monarchs July 26)
6. Agamar Packers (July 27)
7. Ralltiir Starkillers (July 28)
8. Nar Shadaa Smugglers (July 29)
9. Euceron Storm (July 30)

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny JM_1977 Polydroxol Rebecca_Daniels Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn

 

​

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Press room, Meshla Vhetin, Keldabe, Manda'yaim

Taab stood ready behind the curtain. Out there, beyond it and filling up the room, was the assorted press from around the Galaxy. It really had been far too long since he had done one of these, especially one that concerned simply the team itself. He had thought that he had moved on from such with his sale of the team to Felps, but his agent Kor'le had taken care of that issue. So now here he was, back again and ready to take on the press. He checked the chrono, it was time.

He moved out onto stage, resplendent in his Iron Mand'alore armor, to the murmuring of the assembled press corp. The gold and red scheme was nothing if not ostentatious. It fit him and his personality perfectly. He took the podium and removed his buy'ce.

"Ladies and gentlebeings," he began as the murmuring died down. "I am here to inform you all as to the state of the team, our beloved Mando'ade Mercs, and how the recent death of Ms. Rak'el Felps affects their standing in the ELL." The choice of this venue had been a calculated one, one that showed this was about the team, not any sort of governmental action. Taab had been willing to intermingle the two on previous occasions, but by holding the press conference here and not MandalMotors hall he was attempting to send a message. He continued on.

"This briefing will not delve into details of Ms. Felps death, the circumstances of which are still the subject of an ongoing investigation. Hold any questions you might have regarding that subject for the another time." The reporters mostly nodded their heads at that, though Taab noted a few disgruntled faces. He made sure to take note of them for...later.

"After an extensive reading of Ms. Felps estate planning documents both on and off world attorneys," he nearly spat out the last word, his contempt for the profession making itself well known. "Have concluded the legal validity of her final will and testament." He paused and smiled for the holo-cameras, he was clearly loving his moment back in the meshgeroya spotlight. "We Mandalorians are a simple people, we don't have time for things such as probate courts and the like." His smile grew. "And so, we will honor those documents and Ms. Felps wishes in as she put it "Returning the Mando'ade Mercs to the Mandalorian people as a whole for their devotion and love of the beautiful game." There was a small uproar from the back of the room, the area set aside for Mandalorian witnesses to the proceedings here.

"That's right. Every Mandalorian will now own a stake in the team. We will all have a say in it's affairs and profit from its play. And on the day when the Mercs finally do bring us a Galactic Cup championship, it will be a title belonging to all of us."

The chants of "oya, oya , oya" rang out now from the back of the room. The team was in turmoil now, but last season had shown the growth of the product n the field. Most fans expected the team to be contnders again next season. Taab continued on.

"Now, of course we can't have every "owner" of the Mercs weigh in on every decision. We will have a Board of Trustees for the team. These Trustees will act as the team's "ownership group" and run the team's day to day affairs. They will elected on three year terms by all team shareholders which are not otherwise barred from shareholder duties. I have taken the liberty of appointing the first class of Trustees pending a confirmation shareholder vote which will take place later this off season."

He stepped away from the podium. "Ladies and gentlebeings. The Mando'ade Mercs board of Trustees." Four Mandalorians emerged to take their place on the stage and were introduced by Taab. They hailed from a wide range of successful business enterprises both on and off world. After introducing the last member, Taab again took to the podium. "Of course, in true Mandalorian fashion any group needs one person, one leader, to whom they will be responsible. One voice to act in the team's stead. One voice to be the final arbitor of disagreement. And we have appointed a being that truly needs no introduction, a being who I know will lead our team to the promised land of a Galactic Cup title. A being who will act as our team President." He paused for the final time.

"Ladies and gentlebeings, I give you... Aay'han Vhett."

---

Aay'hann Vhett

Vhett took the stage, her own dark grey armor contrasting greatly with that of her husband's. It was a contrast that spoke to their different personalities. She was a rock. A steady and steely eyed killer who thought everything through to the end. Taab was... Well Taab was Taab. Always out there, ready to act even without thinking sometimes. At times in the past they had worked wonderfully together, and at other times had literally tried to kill one another. Fortunately of late, they worked better together than they did against one another. There was applause as she took to the stage.

"Thank you Lord Mand'alor for that introduction," she began before removing her own helmet. "I wholeheartedly accept this nomination and hope that the Mandalorian people will show us the same trust in a few weeks when they vote upon our confirmation." She truly relished the power she had been granted over the team, and she took it quite seriously. Hopefully the shareholders would agree with her husband's actions. But for now it was time to get on with business.

"As you all now we are a team in transition. Our new ownership has been firmly established and I hope to have our front office in place in the coming weeks. To that end I will begin a search for a new General Manager immediately. I will be looking for someone who understands the... needs of the mando'ade fan base and the type of meshgeroya we expect to see played here in the Meshla Vhetin." She paused for a moment, looking to the side of the stage. She had expected Coach Braun to be here for this, but the aruetii was no where to be seen. She continued on anyway.

"We shall be retaining Coach Lu Braun through at least this season. Despite being a new coach in the ELL Coach Braun demonstrated that he understands winning meshgeroya at a high level." She paused as a reporter from HSN politely interupted with a raised hand.

"The Mand'alor mentioned shareholders barred from shareholder's duties. What did he mean by that?"

Vhett nodded at the question. It was something she had been expecting and had planned on discussing it a but later in the press conference. "By that we, the board of Trustees, mean players, personnel and executives on other ELL, LFL, PLL or other professional meshgeroya teams whose station creates a conflict of interest with having a partial ownership of a team other than the Mando'ade Mercs and our affiliates."

"Like Adenn Vizsla?"

"Yes, Mr. Vizsla would be an example of such a shareholder. Their holdings will be held in escrow. Any team profits will be held for them until such a time as their conflict of interest no longer exists. Until that time they will also have no say in team affairs nor be allowed to enter shareholder meetings."

The reporters seemed to understand that and Vhett continued on, her smile growing as she did so. It was good to be back.

TAG: No one.

OOC: No, neither of these is my new PC, just placeholders until his or her introduction which should come sometime this week.

 

Going first-person here on a trial run, with influence in this style from Vehn and Runjedirun

IC: Christine Gamble
?




I am on the run.

On the run from the media, the Elite League, the fans, my teammates . . . and from myself.

The questions began to come to me as I sat on a freighter in coach class, dressed in a tacky brown shawl, and eating greasy protato wedges on my tray from the “cook” on board. The prior day, I had told the media who had tormented me so to shove it and had left the interview room. I was angry, I was bitter at the way the season had played out . . . I had done what anyone in my position would have done. I removed myself from the situation. It had seemed so right at the time, because I wasn’t getting any respect where I was.

I had made my way to the Naboo shuttle depot, where I had secured passage on the first transport off-planet. I didn’t care where it was going, just that I needed to go there. Anywhere but Naboo, my mind had been telling me. Anywhere but here. When I had gotten on the transport, I suddenly didn’t care anymore, because I was once again part of a group that had no faces, no names, and just a few clothing items to let others determine if you were a friend, foe, or just someone trying to make their own way. I wanted to be a faceless stranger on that ship, to blend in and fade away. If anyone had known my identity, I would have been screwed.

But I was lucky, I got out without being recognized. And now I am star systems away from Naboo. It troubled me how such a beautiful lush planet could be so unforgiving. Whether the fans there were the crude ones, or the Senators had just been that bad, I didn’t know. All I did know was that I had to get away. Here I was, a faceless stranger on a new planet with new people who likely didn’t care who I was, or who I might be. Hence was the reason to be nameless. No one to ask questions, no one to second-guess me being here. I wanted solace, and I had found it.

But that wasn’t enough for me. I started to get perturbed by questions about what I had done. There was no secret that I had done something with a major fallout; I had seen all the news reports highlighting my sudden disappearance, wondering and speculating about where I was and why I had left. But the media hadn’t shown why I had left; they didn’t have the guts to prove that they had caused this whole mess. Their blatant disregard for journalism protocols had been part of my decision to leave . . . or maybe I was just crazy, they would say. Perhaps, I would reply, if I was near enough to them to answer such a question, they would have to look inward instead of finding a scapegoat. It was time they found someone else to take the blame, someone who was really at fault. Someone like themselves, the sniveling little cowards who talked tough but couldn’t walk the walk. I knew I could beat the snot out of them in seconds; I was a polished Limmie player, and I was in good shape. My knees were good, my body ready to dish out more punishment. How would the reporters who had pissed me off fare against a full-body shellacking like many corner forwards in the League were accustomed to getting when they squared off against me? Could they handle the wild look in my eyes as I stared them down from across the pitch, like a competitor ready for their last battle in a fight to the death? What would go through their minds as I looked into their very soul, taunting them? Would the pressure get to them? Would they be afraid? I didn’t know the answer, but I could speculate that they would.

But what sickened me to my stomach as I watched the tiny Holo screen on the shuttle was how they treated my best friend. Ava was being assaulted with questions, and wouldn’t answer her hotel room door to beat off the reporters. The media didn’t show it, but I knew that they were like vornskyrs to a piece of meat; they would shred at it, yell bloody murder at each other, and generally do their business until nothing was left but tiny scraps. They were a cruel bunch; they had turned on the team, they had turned on Ava . . . they had turned on me. I had done nothing but go out onto the pitch on gameday and done my very best. It wasn’t my fault the team had been so bad. The other players hadn’t lifted their weight, I knew. They could have done better. The defense had been myself and a bunch of stiffs. That had to change. They had to do better . . . but how much more would I have to give in order to lead that charge? Why had the media been so unforgiving? This was Limmie, yes, but such a turnaround in just one year. That was unbelievable. They were all bandwagon-hoppers, the lot of them. And when they left, they let the droppings fly with their accusations and harmful comments. I wanted to see someone punch their lights out. It would serve those frakkers right.

That had brought me to the next phase of my soul-searching. I was in a small café, acting nonchalant, trying to blend in one more time. I don’t remember what I was eating, but at one point I looked down at my food and saw in my mind’s eye a reenactment of my exit from the spotlight. I had done what I thought was right, what I figured anyone would do, but I hadn’t told anyone where I was going. I had been harboring thoughts of potentially leaving if things got bad when I went to Naboo in the first place, but brushed them off as simple gross overreactions. I thought that there would never be a reason to leave; I didn’t want to be an All-Star this year, but I had been named one, so I went. And I figured it would be enough of a game to get in, have my name said a few times, and then be done with it. I wanted my offseason to start, and now . . . now it had started, just not in the way I intended it to be. I was on the run, not sitting on some beach in my bathing suit soaking up the rays and letting the guys walk by me as they ogled my figure. I wasn’t doing the nightly talk show circuit like some famous figures did; there were no audiences cheering for me. I wasn’t even home, where I knew a warm bed would await me, far from the perils of the Elite League, and from the media.

Naturally, my mind wandered, and it set back on Ava. What had I done to her? Because of me, she had paid the price with the media and their sick-headedness. The girl hadn’t done anything wrong; she had done so much to climb out of the gutter over the past few years, and had everything go for her. She had won a League award for her comeback this past season, a lone bright spot in what otherwise was a deepening chasm that no one knew the bottom of. And I had hurt her. What I could not escape in my thoughts was that I had betrayed her. She had pulled the rug underneath me two seasons earlier when she had been caught doping and had been sent to the minors for her suspension . . . but that was behind her now. She had grown up so much, and I had been so proud of her progress. I knew I wasn’t her mother, but I almost felt like her sister in many ways, a very odd sister. But on a Limmie team, you lived and you learned, and most of all you felt like a family, whether you liked all its members or not. You had to go through so much hell to get anywhere, and times were tough. Especially this year. But there was some level of fraternity there, and I had violated it. I had disgraced the Coruscant Senators franchise, I had disgraced Ava . . . I had disgraced myself.

The question of ‘what had I done’ continued to float through my mind as I slowly worked at my meal. The food seemed to become a hazard in its own right, taunting me as I took each and every bite, torturing my soul as I came to realize what I had done, and the consequences of said action. Now what had seemed like a natural reaction to a harmful situation was starting to look like a major misstep, a slap to the face of everything I had going for me. And I was now sad, sad that I had done this to myself, done this to my friends. And angry, angry that I had done this to them. Those two emotions gnawed at me.

A young man sat at the table across from me. I watched him as he ate. He was the kind of plain boy you would see at the local market, not a spectacular sight by any means. He wasn’t the jock who was the de facto leader of his high school class, or the scientist-in-training who was naturally gifted with brains that seemingly never ended, or even someone with a very bright future. He just seemed average in every metric I could think of. Yes I could have access to men of far better means than he; I had at least one suitor in the glitzy classes back on Coruscant. I had flatly told him no, because I didn’t want a relationship just yet. I knew I wasn’t ready then, and I stuck to my guns on that now. But something about him seemed . . . friendly, inviting. It was like his very presence was trying to challenge the intense thoughts that were raging in my head. He wouldn’t be featured on any HoloNet programming, get to walk on a red carpet, or make that much money in his life. I doubted that anything he could ever accomplish in his anonymous life would be more glamorous than spending a night of his life in bed with a celebrity personality. No doubt he thought about it, talked about it to his friends, wished for it to happen. All boys like that were the same.

Truth was, I wanted what he had, and it was likely that he wanted what I had. He likely wanted fame, I wanted to be left alone for a while. He would most likely enjoy money; I just wanted to get rid of it right now. I didn’t deserve the cash I earned on my Limmie contract after what I had done. Not a single credit should belong to me. I had betrayed a friend, and made a mockery of myself. No amount of money would ever make me feel happy. He had everything I wanted, a faceless personality that could go on with what it wanted without being judged by the galaxy. He was truly the luckiest man in the galaxy for that reason; no one followed him around with Holo cameras, no one tried to swindle him into making bad publicity stunts, and no one yelled at him for being a bad Limmie player. Fame was nice, but it was also a hassle. I wanted something stable, something normal. And my actions had prevented that from occurring.

When I left the café, I wanted to throw off my shawl and yell at the sky that I was not dead, that I was still here. But that would have looked weird, not to mention that it wouldn’t have attacked the main problem I was having. It is true that I am not dead . . . but I felt like it. I had done everything in the book that you were told not to do. And I felt terrible about it, because I knew that I could have prevented it. I could have put up with the media, despite their crap. Maybe, if I hadn’t left, the reporters wouldn’t have harassed Ava. Perhaps I would have saved some face. Not much, but some. That was a lot more than I had now in my miserable exile.

What kind of team captain was I, anyways? I had been terrible on the field, and was now kicking dirt in the face of the only franchise I had ever played for. I didn’t know how tolerant Gark S’rily was, but if some of the things I heard were true, this would be the last straw for him. I would be shipping out somewhere soon enough, and it made me wonder if I would even get the message. Would he even bother to talk to me himself? I didn’t know. Would I even be playing Limmie next year? I was a risk now, a liability. I had proved myself a lousy captain on the field, and now I was even worse off of it. I had shown a lack of ability to cope with bad situations dealing with the media. It was obvious that I couldn’t handle the pressure. So I had no idea what I was to do next.

Had the Solo Conference been hurt by me leaving? Probably not. They had enough stars to do well. I didn’t even know how the game had turned out, because I hadn’t cared. Thinking about the game caused me to worry about my actions, and I had quickly put those out of my mind. It had been easier that way, I had reasoned. Had the team been hurt? Doubtful. Had they missed me? Doubtful. I hadn’t exactly been a star for them, just a reserve, a body in a uniform. As long as I didn’t screw up totally no one would likely have remembered the game anyways on my end. But I hadn’t been there at all. Everyone would remember that. They would look back on it in five, ten, maybe twenty years, and think to themselves that I had not been there to play in it. My actions had gained me notoriety, and not the kind that anyone really wanted in my position. I didn’t want to come across as a pompous ass, but I guessed that I had.

What would my legacy be now? I would forever more be remembered for one rash action, one thing I now wished I hadn’t done. Even if I did well on the field during the rest of my career, which looked even more doubtful by the day, I would still be remembered for that outburst. It would define who I am for the rest of my days. I didn’t want that, but now I had no choice but to accept it. The media always did their job, painting you the way they want you to look. And they had done their job very well.

As I got into bed in my cheap motel room that night, I sat and stared at the ceiling for a long time. If I was a depressed woman, I knew I would be sharing this bed with some faceless stranger right now. I would be trying to forget my pains by making love that I knew wouldn’t last. No, I wasn’t to that level of depravity, but I was close to it. I felt awful for what I had done over the past few days. Was I good enough to even get to the level of the young man at the café, the one with limited life possibilities? Was he in better position than I, the Limmie star? My mind wanted to tell me no, that I was still better off than he. But deep down I had a gut-wrenching feeling that I had it all wrong, that the nameless man was the better of the two of us. If he stuck by his friends in a time of crisis, he was so much better than me. He had the guts I seemed to lack. He had the knowledge to not go off in a huff and start a problem. He was likely smart enough to know how destructive that could be. I just wished as I sat there that I had thought this through more, that I had been smarter.


What had I done?

TAG: No One

 

IC: Zeke Barbosa
Home, Onderon


Zeke sat at the end of the bed, looking down at the datapad in his hand. On the screen was the contract he had signed many years earlier to stay with the Ryloth Rough Riders. That was after he had won a Galactic Cup with them in 272, when he thought he would play with them for the rest of his career.

But things had changed since then. His career had gone into somewhat of a tailspin, last season showing that maybe he didn’t have the spring in his step he once did. No doubt the Senators were looking to shop his contract to anyone who was willing to take him. He likely still had some trade value, but not as much as he would have once commanded. He had gotten married, had a child . . . he wondered if he had done everything he had set out to do as a player, and would be better off leaving the game behind and moving on with his life.

“What’re you looking at?” Jenna Leed asked. She was leaning on the woodwork to the bedroom door.

“My contract,” Zeke replied. “I still have a year left on it.”

“You worried you’ll be traded?” Jenna inquired. She had two years left on her current deal. “One year isn’t a lot of risk for many teams. You might be more valuable if that happens.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Zeke said. “I’m wondering if I should play next season, or should just retire. I’ve done everything I can as a player; nothing more would be new for me. I won a GCLA title . . .”

“Yes, I remember that,” Jenna said disgustedly. She still didn’t forgive her husband for beating her in that game. But that had been long before they had gotten married, back when she somewhat hated him. It was funny how they had overcome such animosity to eventually fall for each other.

“A Galactic Cup, was an All-Star . . . I’ve done everything, Jenna. There’s nothing more for me to prove.”

“So you want to walk away with one year left on your contract?”

“If that’s what makes me happy, then yes,” Zeke said. “Besides, the team would probably like to know early so that they can replace me in the Draft if they need to.”

“But I like having you play on the same team as me, even though it didn’t work out last year,” Jenna said as she touched her husband’s arm. “I still feel guilty that you took all the heat for the terrible defense.”

“It wasn’t my best year,” Zeke said. “Besides, you have other concerns right now with the new kid on the way.”

“I know,” Jenna said. She had recently revealed to Zeke that she was once again pregnant. By the doctor estimates, she was likely due about a month and a half or so before the beginning of the season. That would make the second time she had a short turnaround between pregnancy and the Limmie season. “But I want you to know that you can still do it, Zeke. I believe in you, our daughter believes in you . . . and the unborn child will believe in you as well. You need to make the decision that you feel is right. I’m playing out my contract, regardless of what happens. But you have the cards in your hand right now, and I won’t hate you for your decision. Just think it over.”


By the end of the day, Zeke knew what he was going to do. He called up Gark S’rily, and told him of his plans. The Bith knew that they would affect the Senators’ draft plans, but at least he felt more at peace with his decision.

TAG: No One, although I think jcgoble3 might enjoy it

Spoiler

But it might have influence on my pick at first overall.

 

GM Post

I got my dates wrong.

1. Coruscant Senators (July 23)
2. Kuat Triforce (July 24)
3. Ylesia Lightning (July 25)
4. Ralltiir Starkillers (July 26)
5. Rydonni Prime Monarchs July 27)
6. Agamar Packers (July 28)
7. Ralltiir Starkillers (July 29)
8. Nar Shadaa Smugglers (July 30)
9. Euceron Storm (July 31)

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

 

IC: Ty Allin


Tomas and Richard met us at the spaceport when we returned from Naboo. Tomas gave me a hug and told me he was sorry for being rude when I left. He told me I played great during the All Star game and I quickly asked about his last game of the season. He told me the game had been an easy win. He’d be moving up to play with the 12-14 year old age bracket next year. Tomas would only be 10 when the season started, 11 a few weeks in, still most likely the youngest to be chosen for that bracket.

The purchase of the house Lucie had her heart set on when quickly after our return from the All-Star game. We ended up letting Richard buy the condo from us. Richard had been unprepared to move back to Ralltiir when his father suddenly passed. Moving in with his mother and brothers and taking on the role of a father figure to Spencer and Tomas was something he decided he just wasn’t ready for. He wanted to concentrate on finishing his degree and helping to oversee the team that had meant so much to his father.

The schools on Ralltiir were out for holidays when the time to move came about. Tomas volunteered to help as much as he could with packing and unpacking. Richard and his mother had arranged for Spencer to help with the stadium build. Mrs. Vigo was nice enough to watch T.J. Once training camp started though he would be attending a daycare in the theater district, the place was so upscale there had been a waitlist. I had mixed feelings about putting him there and so did Lucie but mostly I hid those feelings and assured Lucie that everything would work out.

The move had to be done quickly if I wanted to participate in the youth program I usually volunteered at during the off-season. Knowing how important it was to me Andres and Trey pitched in to help. The night before the program began Tomas slept in one of our spare bedrooms so he could leave with me early in the morning. T.J. was able to sit up on his own now and roll over in both directions. When I tickled him he laughed. At breakfast Tomas and I took turns feeding him mashed fruit. He loved to eat; he sat with his mouth wide open in anticipation of each spoonful. Lucie was beginning to voice concerns about him getting fat. As I rushed off with Tomas in tow I reminded her it was just fruit.

As we exited the public transport and entered the neighborhood where I was volunteering this week I noticed that Tomas tensed up. “Have you ever been to this part of town?” I asked him.

He shook his head.

People were waving from their stoops and places of business. I waved back and smiled genuinely. This neighborhood was similar to the one I had grown up in. Coming here meant a lot to me. “The people here are no different from you,” I assured Tomas.

“They are gonna treat me different,” he told me quietly. “Because I have money, they won’t want anything to do with me.”

“That’s not true,” I told him. “They will be surprised to see you, I bet. They’ll respect you came out here to play ball with them, that you don’t consider yourself too good for them. You don’t consider yourself too good to be here, do you?” I asked playfully.

“Of course not, lots of good Limmie players come from neighborhoods like this.” He clasped my hand tighter, “I’ll be lucky if I can keep up with them.”

I wanted to tell him how proud his father would be of a statement like that. I knew how much pain I saw in his face whenever the subject was brought up though, so I decided not to mention it. We entered the school gym where last minute registrations were being held. Kids I had coached last year began to crowd around us and say hello. “Who did you bring with you?” One of the older boys asked.

“This is Tomas Vigo,” I said introducing Tomas. “Tomas this is Cliff he’s a goalkeeper. You’ll want to try and be on his team later in the week when we do scrimmages,” I said with a wink.

Tomas put out his hand to shake. “We don’t shake hands here,” Cliff said.. Cliff reached out and flattened Tomas’ hand then proceeded to give him five, then Cliff held out his own hand and Tomas hesitantly gave him five back. “He’s pretty weak,” Cliff commented to me. “I don’t think I want him on my team.”

“He’s just shy,” I said putting my arm around Tomas. “One of the best midfielders on the pitch, just give him some time to warm up.”

Once we split up into groups I made my rounds and worked with as many children as possible. I kept an eye on Tomas though and he wasn’t his usual self. Usually when Tomas dribbled a Limmie ball he and the ball were one. He had a combination of speed and grace that few players could match. Today though he looked nervous, timid even sloppy. At lunch Cliff approached me. “Why did you bring that rich kid down here?” he asked me.

I asked Cliff if he thought I was rich, and he told me of course I was rich I played Limmie professionally. Then I asked Cliff if he had a problem with me being rich. He told me no, because he knew I wasn’t born that way. Then I reminded Cliff that Tomas hadn’t been asked to be born into money. I also reminded him that Tomas had lost his father just a few months ago. Cliff was shocked. He had heard about the death of Martin Vigo on the news. He didn’t realize I had actually brought one of Martin Vigo’s kids down here to play ball with him and his friends.

After our talk Cliff went to talk to Tomas. Later that afternoon when I observed Tomas’ play again it was more polished. He looked almost as good as he did when he played with his team or in his own gym at home. That evening when I drove Tomas back to his own house he told me that Cliff’s older brother had been shot and killed. Several of the children in the program had lost a parent, a friend or a sibling to violence. The next and each following day he became more and more comfortable. By the end of the week when we played scrimmages the other children were fighting over whose team he would be on.

Mrs. Vigo had been leery of letting Tomas spend his time off from school with me. It wasn’t long before she thanked me. She said Tomas was smiling more at home. His appetite was finally starting to return and he was spending more time in the gym playing Limmie with the droid Spencer had built. She asked if Tomas and Spencer could stay with us while she and Richard travelled to the draft.

---

A week before the draft I was sitting in my still new much larger kitchen eating breakfast and watching HSN when we got breaking news from the Ralltiir Starkillers. Last season’s dance team captain a girl who went by the name Pinkie was turning in her resignation and siting her reasoning as harassment from assistant coach Foress. Lucie was in the bedroom getting dressed she had a meeting about refurbishing the lobby in one of the theater’s she was managing. She entered the kitchen a moment later holding out T.J. at arm’s length. “Take him,” she ordered. “I don’t want him to spit up on my outfit.” I reached out and grabbed my son bringing him in for a hug. “Are the Starkillers on HSN?” She asked suddenly noticing the holovision.

“You should get to your meeting,” I said quickly. “It’s nothing important.”

Ignoring me she turned up the volume. “That creep,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Now wait a minute,” I said from my seat. “Foress has always been a good coach; shouldn’t we give him the benefit of the doubt? Besides with the knockers on that girl it’s kinda hard to resist wanting to get a better view.” I could tell by the look on Lucie’s face I had said something wrong. I set T.J. in his highchair and approached her. “Not that there’s anything wrong with your assets,” I reached out to give her a squeeze. She backed away.

“Don’t touch me,” she stated forcefully.

Without saying another word she stormed out of the kitchen and down the stairs. “Don’t you want to eat your breakfast?” I called down to her.

“I lost my appetite,” she stated angrily before huffing out of the house and slamming the door behind her. I wondered what that was all about.

Later in the day the accusations against Foress got worse. There were inappropriate messages and pictures on Pinkie’s data pad that he had sent to her. Foress had once been the head coach of the Starkillers and an upstanding citizen. After an ugly divorce with his wife he had left planet. His departure had left our franchise without a coach close to the beginning of the season. When he returned as an assistant last season I was a little slow to warm up to him again. Those feelings had melted away quickly when we began winning games. Now as the accusations rolled in I was beginning to worry.

I got a call from Lucie apologizing for yelling at me and saying that we needed to talk. She said she was on her way to the stadium to meet with her mother and brother. It would be several more hours until she would be able to make it home. She asked if I would be okay with T.J. until dinner. I told her we would be fine and wished her luck in sorting out team business.

I would have gone crazy by myself with T.J. all day. Luckily Andres came over to hang out. He brought Zoey and we spent some time at a nearby park. Till was at the stadium meeting with Mrs. Vigo and probably with Richard, Lucie and Justyne as well. Mostly Andres and I discussed what would happen to our ball club. It seemed inevitable that a new assistant coach would be hired. Chances were that Reeser would not be rehired we decided. Her season with the Sandskimmers hadn’t ended well and that’s exactly what our problem had been with the Starkillers. All the regular season wins were quickly forgotten when you were eliminated in round one of the play-offs. Who the new coach would be we couldn’t even speculate.

We also had a chance to get plenty of jokes out of our system while our wives weren’t around to criticize. What had this guy been thinking anyway? Pinkie was young enough to be his granddaughter. The information about the pictures he had sent to her was hilarious we didn’t even need to make jokes, but we did anyway. Mrs. Vigo had probably launched him and his belongings into hyperspace when she found out. Later I found out he would have been lucky to have been simply cast away. Mrs. Vigo had Foress arrested for his crimes against her employee.

Lucie was shaking when she entered the house that night. She told me that Foress had hit on her once too. That she had let him buy her gifts and take her out on a date even. She promised it was before we ever dated. She said she had always been too ashamed to tell me because he had been married at the time and she knew she should have never gone out with him. It took a long time to calm her down. I promised her I wasn’t angry or upset and I wasn’t. At least I wasn’t angry at her, I was angry at coach Foress. I hoped there was something the law could do to lock him up. Most likely he’d get away with a fine at most, but at least his story had been made public and it would be hard for him to find employment again.

Once Lucie did recover from telling her story she had some news. She wanted to rejoin the dance team next year. She and Justyne both felt that it was important to dance again, to prove to the galaxy that the Starkiller organization was not about to let this get them down or make them change their ways. I also thought it was great that Lucie wanted to join the dance team again. I had missed her on the sidelines last season. There would be a lot of details to work out especially who would care for T.J. if she decided to travel to road games. Those details could be sorted later. What mattered to me was having my wife happy. Dancing made Lucie happy.

Tag @ BrettFavre

 

GM Post

HSN Morning Headlines

• Mando'ade mercs team president Aay'han Vhett to interview Charles Bonaven for the open General Manager's job for the Mercs
• Rumors abound that Vizsla is also on interview list after expiration of his contract with the Miners
• Packers trade all their 278 draft picks to Coruscant for Rana Lel Dey (HB) and Cord McKerty (CF)
• Maxxon Foress dismissed as assistant coach of the Starkillers amidst harassment scandal
• Former Lightning head coach Sunlua Zan hired as assistant coach of Ralltiir
• Loma Ikell (RHB, Starkillers) retires
• Jace Sunrider (RCB) and Leann Lightcin (CHF) contracts are not renewed by Starkillers; players enter free agency
• New Starkillers stadium to be named Financial Square Arena. Stadium will open for the beginning of the 279 season as originally scheduled. Financial Square Bank has paid off the late Martin Vigo's loan to build the stadium in exchange for exclusive naming rights

---

Elite League Limmie 278: We Are One​

​

(Since only one of you sounded off on the OP song, I shall ditch my much cleverer songs and give you what you asked for )​

​

Commissioner of Elite League Limmie, Fenrir Lokensgaard, stood before the press and smiled. He looked at ease behind the lectern bearing the League crest. It fit him like a good pair of slacks or a fuzzy sweater.

“Greetings, gentlebeings,” Fenrir said with an easy and free nature, “Let’s get down to business, shall we?

“First off, last season a suggestion was made by the inestimable owner and general manager of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers, Kaitlyn Vehn, that the Zumtak Award be renamed after the recently departed Martin Vigo in recognition of his contributions to the League. While the Elite League takes tradition seriously and did not want to dishonor the memory of Dorkh Zumtak, after whom the award is currently named, after much consideration the League, in consultation with the Board of Governors, has decided to rename the award given to the player who best demonstrated perseverance and dedication to the sport of limmie the Vigo Award in honor of Martin Vigo. We are honored that the League will continue to remember Mr. Vigo for years to come and that his example will inspire the beings in this League who embody what is best in all of us.

“At the end of the regular season, the League announced the demotion of the Kashyyyk Rangers and Ryloth Rough Riders. Though the teams played their best, a change needed to be made with the overall health of the League in mind. That’s why I instructed the Membership Committee to look for teams that were ready for Elite League Limmie, ready to make a splash, shall we say?

“The Membership Committee has not finished their work, but at this time has one new team to announce.

“One of our two new teams this season is the reigning Premiership champions: the Kuat Triforce,” Lokensgaard said, “The Triforce had a spectacular season in 277. We look forward to them doing even greater things as the newest member of the ever-competitive Solo Conference. The Triforce have elected to participate in the 278 Elite League Limmie Draft.

“However, this year there shall be a minor modification to the Draft. As a new team, Kuat is entitled to the first pick of each round of the draft. However, as part of the promotion negotiations, the Triforce have agreed to accept the second pick of each round. The Coruscant Senators will have the first pick of each round in the 278 Draft. This level of sportsmanship is indeed above and beyond the call.

“As soon as the Membership Committee decides on our final team for 278, you’ll all be the first to know--after me that is,” Lokensgaard said with a smile, “Then we’ll see who has a chance to win it all.

“Oh!” he added, as if suddenly remembering, “Winning it all--of course. One other tidbit for all of you today.

“The Elite League is pleased to announce that the Final Site Selection Committee has accepted the bid of Euceron to host the 278 Galactic Cup Final. Euceron contacted the League early and their long history of coordinating outstanding Galactic Cup Finals impressed the Committee. We’re thrilled that the Final, and the 278 Elite League Limmie Awards, will be returning to Euceron once again.”

“Commissioner!” a reporter called out, “Given the fact that the Euceron Storm have been the target of terrorist attacks in the past few years, isn’t the League concerned about security at the Final?”

“Oh hardly. The Storm have a healthy working relationship with the Jedi Order. They can just bring their glowsticks of destiny with them and everything will be fine,” Lokensgaard said dismissively, “Besides, didn’t they throw one of those nasty fellows in jail? Problem solved. That’s all I have time for today. See you all at the Draft.”

---

Agamar

“Welcome, welcome, one and all, to the 278 Elite League Limmie Draft! It is so great to be here on Agamar,” Lokensgaard said to the assembled fans and team personnel, “What an exciting time. Anything is possible. The champions of tomorrow will stand upon this stage today, ready to make an impact with their new teams.

“We have all the best teams in the Elite League here today. Let’s see...ah! Kuat’s out there, welcome to the party. Agamar--Tim Dodd in the house today? Big draft day trade by the Packers so he must be. There’s Rydonni Prime, they always love a good draft and this is looking like a very good draft. We’ve got Coruscant, nice of you to stick with us...here’s Euceron--looking forward to coming out your way at the end of the season--Nar Shaddaa, is the mayor here today? Do I have to salute her or bow or something like that? Mando’ade, oya! Leave it to the Mandalorians to swing some major trades so close to the draft. Ralltiir--pleasure to see you. Ylesia...there they are! They’ve got some nice picks this year. Let’s see...anybody missing?” Lokensgaard ticked the teams off one by one. “Agamar, Coruscant, Euceron, Kuat, Mando’ade Nar Shaddaa, Ralltiir, Rydonni Prime, Ylesia...that would be all the best teams, now wouldn’t it? Yep, can’t think of anyone we’re leaving out...

“As much as I love talking--and as much as you love listening--let’s get things started!

“The 278 Elite League Limmie Draft has now commenced!

“The Coruscant Senators, with the first overall pick in the 278 Elite League Limmie Draft, are now on the clock!”

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

 

​

IC: Adenn Vizsla
Team President's office, Meshla Vhetin, manda'yaim

It was an odd thing returning to one's "home". For so long he had worked here, gave up countless hours in trying to make his team the best in the league. It had all been so easy at first, installing his new system and watching the Mercs take the league by storm. It had resulted in a Galactic Cup appearance and though the Mercs had come up just short it foretold of great things to come.

But the Mercs never quite got there. The league adjusted, as they were want to do at this level, and the Mercs faded back into mediocrity. But Vizsla had kept working, kept pushing to make his team better and better. It had taken a few years but after the 276 season there was reason for hope again for the Merc's faithful. Then everything had fallen apart. The team was sold, and Vizsla was unceremoniosuly dumped as the team's head coach. It wasn't something that had pleased the bald old Mandalorian, but it was something he had no control over and so he moved on.

He had contemplated many options after the team let him go. He could have gone back to the college game that he loved so much. KMI of course was set at coach, Me'yer was his protege there and the team was on good hands for years to come. But other teams would have hired the old ball coach in a heartbeat. The Ord Sabaok University had even gone as far as to contact him in an attempt to gauge his interest. He still hadn't been sure of that. It seemed like a step backwards after what he had been through with the Mercs, but it had looked like he would have no choice. It was take the StarBucks job or take a year off to evaluate (that is try to come up with) other options. Then fate intervened.

The call from Bakura came as a total surprise to him. They were a respected organization, and before realignment had been a hated rival of his Mercs. They wanted his services as an advance scout. It was a chance to stay in the ELL, to still have an impact on a team's game plan, and even learn new skills. He leapt at the chance, and didn't look back. Of course fate wasn't content to leave things at that. No, he had been forced to scout his former team, and not just for any game, but for the Galactic Cup finals.

It was tough emotionally for him, but his professional pride wouldn't allow him to do any less then his best to honor his contract. So he threw everything he had into helping the Miners defeat his old team, and in the end they did. The four point margin of victory was all the evidence he needed to know that his information had proved instrumental in breaking down the Mercs defense and ensured a Miner's Championship. He too now was an ELL Champion, and his work with the Miners gave him even more options. Other teams might desire his services, and so with his Bakuran contract at an end he again began to put out feelers to the other ELL teams.

There were some that would need coaches, or front office staff. They could all use someone with his pedigree, but when the call came from Manda'yaim there was no question in his mind where he would go. The interview went quickly. Like himself the new team president was a Mando who got straight to business. It helped that they had a professional relationship going back to Vizsla's time here as a head coach. The position they were looking at for him now was one of considerably more responsibility, but it was one that both Vhett and Vizsla knew he was well suited. That interview ended with a simple offer on the table. Take it or leave it, there was to be no negotiation. That too sat well with Vizsla. He quickly accepted and signed the proper documents. He was the new General Manager and Vice President of Player Personnel for the Mando'ade Mercs. It was a prestigious title, one that suited him and his new responsibilites. But that mattered little to him.

What mattered to him was that he was home.

TAG: No One.

 

GM APPROVED!




Name: Adenn Vizsla
Species: Human Mandalorian
Age: 66
Gender: Male
Position: General Manager, Mando'ade Mercs
Homeworld: Coruscant

Adenn Vizsla has led a life devoted to his two great loves, his family and the beautiful game of meshgeroya. Long past are the days where the name Vizsla was cursed by those who did not approve of their ancient methods and honor has been restored to the clan.

Adenn's own path saw his as a Captain in the Mandalorian Protectors. He eventually began to teach part time at the Keldabe Military Institute, where his classes on military history and applying the lessons learned in campaigns past to the modern era was the one students hoped they did not get. His role there eventually saw him on the field of play, first as an assistant coach where he adopted military tactics regarding battle space control and frontage to the beautiful game. His ideas transformed the team from a thrilling distraction to the players and students to a powerhouse that dominated SEC play. Eventually he was promoted to head coach where the team's success continued to grow.

As Adenn aged he began to look for a successor, finding one in Ur'ban Me'yer who took Vizsla's concepts and expanded upon them even more, spreading out the Warrior's offense. Vizsla took on the position of athletic director for at KMI, while maintaining his rank and his teaching position. He looked on with pride as the KMI Warriors continued on their winning traditions and as the Mercs finally broke through to the ELL. Little did he know that just a few years later he would take on the mantle of coaching the Mandalorian national team.

Appointed as the Merc's sideline general, Vizsla took to his new job with a fury. He instituted his spread ideas and the team once again soared to new heights. He coached them to a Galactic Cup appearance and was named Coach of the year in 272. Eventually the league caught on to his schemes and adapted and though the Mercs sank back into mediocrity, Adenn saw the core of a team that could still contend for a championship.

Sadly he was not to be there for their attempt. The team was sold and Vizsla was summarily dismissed (along with General Manager Aay'han Vhett). Unsure of where his life would take him next he was pleasantly surprised to get a call from the Bakura Miners front office. His family had fought along side Bakurans during the Coalition War, and eager to stay in the beautiful game Vizsla jumped at the chance. He excelled in his duties as an advance scout and helped to formulate the week to week gameplan of an 8-1 Miners team that would eventually take on his beloved Mercs in the 277 Galactic Cup Finals.

Though emotionally torn, Viszla never questioned his professional responsibility to the Miners and told them everything he knew not only of the current Mercs roster and style of play, but also what he knew of them from his time as their head coach. In one of the hardest fought Finals games in recent memory, the Miners eked out a 38-34 win for the title. The Mercs were sent home with nothing, and Vizsla was sure that his advice had been the difference in denying his people their first ELL Championship.

Soon news broke of more internal turmoil from the Mando'ade Mercs. His old GM there was named team president and within days he met with her, regarding a new job, and a new challenge for him to overcome.