Star Wars OPEN Elite League Limmie

IC: Me'lin S'rily
S'rily Residence . . . Haven't moved . . .

Me'lin was very surprised to see a woman at the door. Perhaps she was trying to sell something? Sometimes salesbeings would come around trying to sell their wares, so she had tried to develop a way to say she wasn't interested. But this one was a complete shock to her. What in the world did this woman mean, delivery for Gark? The Bothan hadn't told her anything would be coming by today, and certainly nothing that belonged in a briefcase. The Twi'lek looked out into the street, but there wasn't a large delivery vehicle sitting out there. Instead she saw nothing out of the ordinary. What in the hell was going on?

"He should be expecting it" was all the mysterious woman said.

"Is he?" Me'lin asked, somewhat confused, somewhat indignant. This reeked of something she didn't want to know about. What was Gark up to, and what was in the briefcase? "Can I ask who you are, and what's inside? I wasn't told of anything that was supposed to arrive today."

TAG: Trieste

 

IC: Ty Allin

I didn’t want to dive in and ask Tomas what was wrong right away. First I pulled up the hotel’s menu and allowed the boys to order dinner. Once our food arrived Tomas helped me choose a game to order on the console in the room, we got about one round into our match up when the power went out. Two of the security guards Mrs. Vigo had hired immediately rushed in the room to make sure we were okay. For several minutes I think we were all on edge while security worked to find out why the power had gone out. Thankfully it wasn’t long before we were assured that it was just a roaming outage. Apparently the city was unable to keep up with the demand of extra visitors. Needless to say there was too much excitement for me to get anytime alone with Tomas to find out if there was anything I could do to help that evening.

The following morning I had to be out early to assemble with the other pro players who had been selected as All Stars for a make shift practice of sorts. When I got back to the room Tomas and Cliff were enjoying a fierce battle in the game we had hoped to play the night before. I called the winner. Tomas won, I quickly got up to take Cliff’s place behind the controls. Suddenly Tomas decided he didn’t feel like playing anymore. “You’re not afraid of losing are you?” I teased lightly.

Tomas was already sitting cross legged on his bed pulling up something on his data pad. “I should be working on school stuff,” he explained. “My teacher expects me to do a lot of assignments while I’m away from class.”

“You can play me if you want,” Cliff offered. I agreed to play Cliff for a round or two. It wasn’t unusual for Tomas to work on school assignments. He cared a great deal about keeping his grades satisfactory because he knew it had meant a lot to his father. There were more power outages that evening so we all turned in rather early.

The following day was the All Star game. I took transport with Jul and Stun over to the stadium. Cliff and Tomas took a separate air taxi with their usual security detail. I told them I’d see them on the field. We all agreed not to go easy on each other. I was restless during the ride to the field. Two days had gone by and I had never had the chance to speak to Tomas. Whenever I tried to approach him about anything he had avoided me. I was unsure if there was any reason to be alarmed. Something just didn’t feel right and I hoped the game would go quickly so we could board the shuttle home. On the shuttle he would be cornered. We would be able to hash out whatever was bothering him once and for all.

Even with players from the Skywalker Conference in the locker room it didn’t feel any different from a normal All Star game as we all dressed to play. Anxious to take the field I put on my uniform and cleats without socializing. Stun followed me out. One cleat still in her hand, so that she wobbled noticeably as she chased after me. “What’s the rush Allin?” She asked. “There’s no need for warm-ups we aren’t playing against real Limmie players.”

“You seem to forget that there are a lot of ELL alumni out there. Coruscant sent a hall of famer. And even though the boys sharing my room are young, they are damned good. They learned from me, after all.” In reality I was anxious to make sure that Tomas and Cliff had arrived at the stadium okay. I hoped that taking a look across the field and seeing them there would ease my mind a bit and enable me to focus on my own game.

Kaat stopped by the bench to put on her other cleat. I looked out on the field. Cliff was already in the goal box allowing his teammates to make practice shots on him. Among them was Tomas. He fiercely kicked a ball just out of Cliff’s reach and into the net. I watched as Tomas raised his hands in celebration. Cliff ran to collect the ball and tossed it back with a smile on his face. My mind eased. I jogged out onto the field to warm up myself.

After much fanfare the game finally began. I watched as Kaitlyn Vehn took a hit from one of her own players early on. That was all it took for her to step off the field and have a reliever take her place. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing her early departure. One of the most feared teams in the league and their owner lasted all of five minutes. Took me a while to stop laughing, that’s probably how those first three points got by me.

When I finally recovered Tomas came in to replace Marte Nalo on offense. I knew there was a possibility he would play offense and was excited to face off against him. He received a pass smoothly and began to dribble towards the goal. I ran to stop him, when he looked up and saw me he froze. I reached out and touched him with both hands so possession of the ball was deferred to our team.

When the challenge team got the ball again another pass was made in Tomas’ direction. This time he fumbled the pass. Tomas was a confident player, something was wrong. I called a time out and asked for a sub. I jogged over to Tomas and told him he would need a sub as well. He looked at me frightened. He didn’t ask for a sub, he just stood there. I called over to the other bench that Tomas needed to come out of the game and quickly led him off field.

I put my arm around him and walked him to the tunnel opening where the pro players had entered the field so we could have some privacy. By this time he had found his voice, “How dare you take me out,” he said angrily. “You’re not my coach; you’re not even on my team.”

Tomas was family, he was my wife’s little brother. I had always done my best to treat him like the little brother I had wanted growing up. We had fun together, I taught him things and we hung out. He had never yelled at me. I knew something was wrong. As gently as I knew how I put my hand up over his mouth so he would listen to me. “Ever since you arrived on Carratos you have been avoiding me,” I said putting concern and compassion in my voice. “Now we come out here to play a Limmie game, a game I happen to know you excel at and you’re faltering. That’s not like you Tomas. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just nervous.”

“That’s not it,” I said shaking my head. “You’ve been on stages similar to this, besides you were dribbling the ball just fine at first. It was when you looked up and saw me that you began to falter. Did I do something to upset you Tomas?”

Quickly he shook his head. Then he looked at his feet. “Is this about your father? I know it must be hard to be here without him,” I said gently.

We were both quiet for a moment. He looked up at me. “I need to tell my mother something,” he began. “About Spencer, I’m ashamed because I haven’t even told you and I tell you everything. Or at least I used to. And if I can’t even tell you, how will I ever tell mom?”

“Are you sure it’s something you need to tell me?” I asked perplexed. “Have you talked to Spencer about whatever this is? Maybe the two of you can sort it out without a grown-up.” I said hoping to help ease his concerns. I certainly didn’t expect him to tell me about every little disagreement he had with his brother.

“Spencer is swallowing spice.” Tomas stated forcefully. “He does it so he can stay awake. He used to wake up screaming at night shortly after dad was shot. Then he stopped and I thought everything was better. Until I noticed his light was on at all hours of the night. If I got up to use the fresher, or stayed up to finish homework. At first I didn’t think too much of it, I was worried about him because I knew he wasn’t sleeping. Then one night the fresher door was open. He must of thought I was sleeping already. I saw him taking some pills. I kept his secret.” Tomas was talking a mile minute. There was no way I could get a word in if I tried so I let him finish. “I knew it was bad. I guess I just hoped it would go away on its own. Then last week when Cliff was at the party he could tell Spencer has been using spice. Just by his eyes, he says they are dilated. Cliff says if Spencer doesn’t get help the spice will kill him. I should have told someone a long time ago.”

I reached out and pulled Tomas in for a hug. “You just told someone,” I assured him. “If you want I can speak to your mother,” I offered. Tomas was eleven. He shouldn’t have to be dealing with a problem this size.

Still he shook his head. “I should do it,” he said pulling back. “Or at least let me try, if I can’t I’ll let you do it, okay?”

I nodded. “So do you think you can get your head in this game? Or you want to just watch? It is okay if you just want to watch. I can sit on the bench with you if you need.”

“I can play,” Tomas assured me. “I came all the way out here. I need to at least try.”

I smiled. Tomas was resilient a trait he was going to need to get through whatever fall out may take place when we got back to Ralltiir. “I expect to see you put points on the board,” I challenged as I led him back over to his sideline. I told his coach he was ready to go back in and then made my way back to my own bench.

A few minutes later we were facing each other on the field again. We had faced off numerous times in the park near my house and at the gym in his house. He could beat me, and not just because I let him beat me. Tomas had studied my play more than anyone quite possibly. I didn’t want the Galaxy to see an 11 year old boy get a bolo ball past me so I showed him no mercy. He attempted a quick fake to the left. I could tell by the lean in his shoulders that he was going to come back to the right and was easily able to steal the ball out from under him.

I passed up field. It wasn’t long before Tomas received another pass, this time he didn’t bother to try and dribble around me. He went for the immediate score and he got it. “Perfect shot,” I praised, unable to hold back my pride in his play. Tomas was moved back to cover midfield for the rest of the game. The position he played back home. I watched as he held his own out there against the likes of Glencross, Mor’kesh and even Windreaver. They probably didn’t know what to make of this game. I know I didn’t. At one point Senator owner Gark S’rily kicked the ball directly to me. Perhaps it was meant to be a shot on goal. I’m not even sure. At any rate I caught it and passed it back up field to one of my own teammates.

Loren had asked me on the ride to the stadium how easy she should go on Cliff. I told her not to hold back, that the kid was 16 and he played for his secondary school. He would be offended if she held back. Her first score I’m certain Loren didn’t hold back. It went into the net with speed and accuracy no one could match. After that first goal though I know Loren held back. In fact she only scored two more bar points the entire game. I admired her sportsmanship for about the millionth time in her career as an ELL player.

As for Kaat Stun, I’m still trying to figure her out. She had a mediocre career at Ralltiir U as a keeper. For whatever reason the Vigo’s brought her on and started her in Tatooine at the beginning of this season. She had done well there, or maybe she had just faced less worthy opponents. At any rate in a moment of frustration and desperation Trey had called her up to play with our club. Her first start she’d started a fight and gotten suspended. In her second start we’d been beat by 37 points. If she was taking this game or any game seriously I didn’t know. I couldn’t read her yet. If she didn’t take our upcoming game against the Triforce seriously I’d probably never get a read on her. Poletin may end up in goal for the remainder of the season. I didn’t care who was in goal. If a goal was scored it was as much a strike against me as any other member of the defense including the keeper.

At the end of the day us pro’s pulled out a narrow win and had a lot of fun. We all stopped back at the hotel just long enough to pick up our bags before heading to the spaceport for our departure. Cliff and Tomas had to be back in school while Jul, Stun and I were expected to be back at practice. We did our best to catch up on sleep for most of the ride home. We arrived back on Ralltiir mid-morning local time. Mrs. Vigo picked up Tomas and Cliff. I promised Tomas I would check in with him later in the week to make sure everything had worked out. Loren, Kaat and I had to report directly to practice.

There wasn’t much of a welcoming party for us when we arrived at the stadium. We quickly donned our practice uniforms and hit the field. I did my best to concentrate on making catches, tackles and blocks. Not an easy task when all my body really wanted was a meal at home and a night in my own bed. Those things couldn’t come soon enough. Trey was nice enough to dismiss practice on time that evening. Lucie picked me up and took me home. Dinner was just as wonderful as I imagined it would be and my bed as comfortable as I remembered.

The next morning I got up a little early so I could eat breakfast with T.J. It seemed like he had grown an inch in the several days I had been gone and he had learned to hold up a single finger when asked how old he was. My heart ached for the time I’d missed with him and rejoiced for our club’s good fortune in having the three of our final four games at home.

Speaking of games we only had a few days left to prepare to face the newest member of the Solo conference the Kuat Triforce. It was a must win game for the Starkillers. My morning was spent with Trey and Coach Zan designing a few new plays. After mid-day meal it was my task to teach the plays to the rest of the defense. It didn’t start out well. Jeffers was late. His excuse was that there had been a long line at the establishment where he had chosen to eat.

When we started to walk through the plays Jeffers complained that his stomach was hurting and he needed to sit down. I told him he was in the ELL and sitting wasn’t an option when you had a game to prepare for. He mock limped his way through the plays and belched loudly disrupting my instructions. Finally I told him that if he didn’t want to play Zire would be more than happy to fill his spot on the field this week. Miraculously he felt much better and began to cooperate after my threat.

Just when I felt like we were beginning to make some progress the chrono I wore on my wrist began to vibrate. The device was set to alert me when I got an emergency call or text on my data pad. Only family had the emergency number. It was something Lucie and I had installed shortly after T.J. was born. I excused myself to the locker room and checked my device.

I had a message from Tomas. I had forgotten I gave him the number. Ty I’m scared the text read. I told my mom what I had seen. She and Spencer are shouting at each other. My mom is threatening to call law enforcement. Please help.

Trey had followed me into the locker room. I didn’t wait for him to ask. “I have a family emergency,” I told him heading towards the exit. Concerned for everyone at the Vigo household I didn’t bother to explain further. I broke into a sprint and ran out to my speeder. Trey was following, because he wanted a further explanation or because he generally cared didn’t matter to me. I lifted off before my engines were even properly warmed up and headed towards the Vigo residence. I set down in their driveway several minutes later, jumped out and knocked on the front door. Mrs. Vigo answered. She had been crying, but she didn’t seem to be surprised to see me. “Tomas called,” I explained. “Is he okay? Are you okay? Can I come in?”

Mrs. Vigo fully opened the door and pointed towards the living room. At first it appeared Tomas was sitting on the sofa, and then I realized he was sitting on top of Spencer who was on the sofa. “Spencer needs help.” Mrs. Vigo stated coming to stand next to me. “I promised Tomas I wouldn’t call the authorities because he said you were coming. Spencer refuses to let me take him to a rehabilitation center. I can’t handle this on my own. Either you help us, find us someone who can or I have no choice. Someone is checking that boy into rehab. He won’t be taking another pill in my house,” she stated forcefully.

Tomas stood his ground, or rather sat it. “I don’t want my brother to get arrested. Can you help him Ty?”

“Well you’re going to have to let him up,” I began. “If he will talk to me alone, perhaps I can convince him.” I told Tomas confidently. I didn’t feel as confident as I sounded. Luckily I had years of practicing my sabaac face out on the Limmie field. I also knew a few things I could say to hopefully persuade Spencer that getting help was the best thing to do. “What do you say?” I asked approaching the pair. “Will you come hear me out?” I asked taking Spencer’s hand.

He nodded and Tomas got up, releasing his brother. I led the way upstairs to Spencer’s room where we could have some privacy to talk. When we got there he took a seat on his bed. I pulled out the chair from under his desk and took a seat myself. “First off I am really sorry about your father’s passing,” I started. “I can’t even imagine how hard this past year has been on you,” he sat looking towards the wall forcing himself not to show any emotion. “You’re not alone. You have support. It may not feel like your mom has your best interest in mind by wanting to send you away, but she does. You will need medical care to get through withdrawals. Once you get through that you can probably come home. There will be outpatient therapy. Nothing a Vigo can’t handle, I’m sure.”

Without warning Spencer turned towards me and spit, saliva projected hitting my face. “What would you know about being a Vigo?” He demanded.

Quickly I wiped the saliva off my face with the back of my hand. “I married your sister,” I said raising my voice a few octaves. “I also know about having a problem with substance abuse. You want articles on the holonet detailing your arrest for your children to find one day? If you don’t seek help they will be there. I’m sure you’ve searched my name and read about what happened to me. You know what isn’t in those articles. Is what it’s like to wake up on a cement floor in a pool of your own vomit not even remembering at first what went down the night before. To be led out in a jumpsuit with your hands cuffed behind your back to explain to your parents what happened. To watch your future slip away because instead of facing your problems you chose to hide from them.”

“Alcohol numbed my pain, much like the spice is able to stop you from having dreams about your father. My problems must seem trivial compared to yours, I beg of you not to mull over this for long. The sooner you get help the better. I’ll give you a ride; check you in, whatever you need. Don’t make your mom call authorities. Don’t let your little brother see you cuffed and dragged out of your own home. You have all been traumatized enough.”

Tears finally started to fall down Spencer’s face. “I’ll go,” he said simply. “I would like it if you would come too. And my mom.” he added, “My mom and Tomas so they can see that I’m okay.”

Then and there we packed a bag with a few changes of clothes and personal belongings. We headed down the stairs to let his mother know his decision. To my surprise Trey was on the sofa holding Mrs. Vigo. “I hope you don’t expect me back at practice today,” I told him out of habit.

“Coach Till came to check on mom,” Tomas said interrupting.

Tomas acted like this was old news. I turned towards Spencer for a reaction. “Mom and Coach have been discussing team business at the house a lot lately,” he explained.

I looked at Trey in shock, he shrugged, his arm still around Mrs. Vigo. “Okay,” I faltered. “Spencer has agreed to seek help. I’ve offered to drive and he wants his mother and brother to come along. I don’t know where that leaves you,” I said looking at Trey.

“I should probably head back to the stadium,” he said coolly. He got up to leave but not before giving Mrs. Vigo a kiss on the cheek. “Let me know how it all turns out,” he said before departing.

We flew for an hour to the facility Mrs. Vigo had selected for her son. It was more of a resort than a center. We got a full tour. Among other things there were gardens, an art room and recreational facilities including a pool. When check in began things took a much more serious tone. Spencer was visibly sweating, not just a sign of nerves. He had gone several hours without taking a pill now and his body was just beginning to tell him it was expecting one.

Lucie arrived with T.J. and Justyne with her own two children. They were only allowed to see their brother for a moment. To wish him luck so he could be fully checked in before evening meal. We were all ushered out quickly after that. Spencer put on a brave face and waved good-bye. On his wrist was a newly placed identification band.

“What else can I do?” I asked Mrs. Vigo when we got outside.

“You just make sure the team wins this week. We need to sell tickets so I can afford to get my son the help he needs.”

Lucie took her mother and brother home. I headed back to the stadium to make up the practice I had missed that afternoon. Several players were still there. I ran some drills with Andres while I filled him in on what had happened. I was fortunate to have practice to keep me busy for the next two days. Spencer was not allowed visitors during what was called his initiation period. Lucie had dinner with her mother and brother the following evening while Trey held practice late finalizing last minute play additions.

The day before the game we had a shortened practice. The only person missing at dinner was Spencer. Richard had flown in from Coruscant, Bat and his family had made the trip from Tatooine, Andres and Justyne were there with their children and Trey joined us as well. We discussed the team on Tatooine during dinner. Bat was confident the Sandskimmers would rebound this week and end their losing streak. The team had only lost two games and both losses had been by a narrow margin. However, losing was losing, and over the past couple of seasons fans on Tatooine had learned to expect that the team win, at least during the regular season. Tickets would sell, Bat had said confidently. There wasn’t much to do on a backwater planet. Sporting events were an easy draw to help people escape from their mundane routines.

Inside Bartholomew Vigo though was that same winning mentality inside every Vigo. The loss in such a close game that had been viewed by so many across the Galaxy last week had obviously been difficult for Bat. There were plenty of positives though; he said the Knott twins were developing quite a following out on Tatooine and that local Yolanda Dunerider was earning her keep.

The next morning before the game Spencer was finally allowed visitors. I went to see him early. His case worker met me and took me back to Spencer’s room. Spencer was receiving an IV, and was unable to meet with me in the normal visitors lounge where we would normally be meeting with him on such visits I was told. Apparently Spencer was unable to keep food down at the moment due to withdrawals. He was experiencing a common side effect after being dependent on a substance for as long as he had.

Spencer was dressed and watching ELL pre-game analysis on the holo when I entered his room. He immediately muted the set when I entered. “Predictions are that the Starkillers should win today,” he stated as I surveyed the room. It was a single room, with a bed, small sofa, desk, holovision and even a private fresher.

“That’s the plan,” I confirmed. I made my way to the sofa and had a seat. “You look like you’ve lost weight,” I commented.

He explained that things had been pretty rough since he checked in. The first evening he had dinner with everyone and lost every bit of it later that night. He vomited for nearly 24 hours straight he said. Once the doctors were able to stabilize him he had been able to receive fluids through the IV. Hopefully by tomorrow he could try drinking again. I asked if he had slept since he checked in. He explained that he was given something through the IV at night to make him sleep. An attendant was in the hallway at night so if he cried out someone came to wake him. He was still having dreams. He said anger creeping into his voice.

“You told me this would be a short stay. I could go home after I got the spice out of my system,” he said accusingly. “But I can’t go home if I can’t sleep and they won’t even let me start therapy until I can eat again. Ty I know this looks like a nice place, but there’s so many rules. I can’t gain access to the pool or even be allowed visitors until I earn points. I’m only allowed to see family today because I haven’t had a chance to earn points yet. I’ll earn points when I start therapy,” he was holding his head in his hand as he spoke as if it ached. “And then there’s the whole issue that I’m missing school and assignments.”

He was starting to sound panicked so I interrupted. “Your teachers will work with you when you get back. Even if this takes longer than planned I know they will understand it was in your best interest to receive the help you need. Try not to worry about school or outside things, concentrate on getting better. Your schoolwork would have suffered much worse if you had kept going down the path you were going. Will you be allowed to watch the game today?” I asked hoping to improve his mood.

He nodded. I told him I would do everything in my power to win for him. I headed to the stadium as other family members arrived to see him. Hours later we assembled in the locker room after warm ups. Trey allowed me to address the team. “As you all have heard the owner’s son has had a rough week. I was able to visit him today and he will be watching the game. Let’s not just win this game just because it will keep our play-off hopes alive. Let’s win this game because it will bring optimism to a boy and a family that needs optimism.”

My teammates whooped and hollered in agreement. We took the field with a sense of purpose. As I ran by Tomas on the sideline I gave him a fist pump and warm smile. He appeared to be in good spirits. I continued on to my position. “Annoy the Triforce offense like you annoy me and we can win this thing,” I said to Jeffers as we waited for play to begin.

“That won’t be a problem,” he assured me.

Tagology: @ everyone for all star mentions, Polydroxol for the upcoming game AND @ Anyone who had took the time to read this whole post, THANK YOU

 

GM Post
S'rily residence, Coruscant

"My name is Bennett Halverson," the woman said. That name would mean very little to very many people and only a lot to the very few who were in the know. Of course, that was only because she spread her name sparingly in the galaxy. "Is Mr. S'rily available? I am making a delivery at his request."

She knew better than to say too much. It was better for her business if spouses were mad at her rather than their significant others. Bennett had not gotten where she was without being smart.

Though, admittedly, this wasn't the ideal situation to be in. Even so, it was the cost of doing business.

TAG: Jedi Gunny

 

IC: May Trieste
Miners shuttle, en route to Hapes

​

Hyperspace struck May as incredibly peaceful. It always had. For starters, when you considered the fact that mass was traveling at the speed of light and was not imploding on itself or going in a billion directions, how could it not be peaceful? Then there was the beautiful elongation of the stars when you entered and exited and the pulsating tunnel of azure that you could see in between.

That left what happened on the starship itself. May had always found it interesting what beings wound up doing while they were stuck together on a hyperspace. They had finite options of where they could go and what they could do. This was her third trip on the Miners shuttle and in a way the time in hyperspace was her favorite part of the time offworld, even more so than the game itself. She got to see what the team did with itself and how their behavior changed between road trips.

There were bunks on the shuttle and some of the team used the time to sleep. However, most of them spent their time in the main seating area, which was furnished with plush seats for everyone’s comfort. Some previous Miner coaches had seating charts designed to help create camaraderie between certain players or to encourage the transfer of certain knowledge. Valerii had elected not to do so this season. She had a veteran group where everybody knew everybody. She was content to let relationships develop naturally. After all, she was coaching an almost unchanged roster of champions that was 3-1. You didn’t mess with success without a good reason.

May was leaning against one of the bulkheads as she watched Becki Morlan, Dalton Ward, Zonko Lyriss, and Sutton Millard were playing sabacc. What they were playing for, May didn’t know, but it seemed like the players were pretty into their game.

“Seriously? Seriously?” Ward said, “Your card shifts to that? How come that never happens to me?”

“Cards must not like you,” Sutton said happily, apparently the one with the winning hand, “We have a very deep relationship.”

“I feel like I’m getting played here,” Ward groused.

“Player’s gonna play,” Sutton said.

May pushed off from the bulkhead and wandered further back in the cabin. In seats next to each other, Dorvan Fiesta and Nelly Wizmark were playing each other in some game via their datapads. Fiesta clearly had an unfair advantage, as he used one of his extra arms to try to distract Nelly from her intense concentration.

“Stop it Dorvan,” Nelly growled.

“Stop what?” Dorvan asked, still intent on the game.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

May passed them by and found Gary Zonka in his seat, headphones on, looking intently at his datapad. The doctor peered over her shoulder as she passed the full forward. He was watching game tape from the last game against Kuat, reviewing his own play, reviewing the defense. Aron Rodders, May had been told, had been much the same way. She wondered if her cousin Vesper, another full forward, did the same. She wouldn’t be surprised.

Leaving the seating cabin behind, May walked by the head coach’s office, which was much smaller than the one at the Miners’ practice facility. It was good enough for the road games.

“...their offense loves to score with this front-to-back switch,” Valerii was saying to Cuth Hulu, “Pull the defenders in deep, then get back to the half forwards who have some space.”

“Yeah, they’re trying to exploit ball chasing,” Hulu said, “We stay being-to-being we’re okay.”

“They have talented forwards who could burn us if we go being-to-being. Wai Lin is an ageless wonder.”

“You sure she isn’t Bakuran?”

“Yeah, but she’s got as much energy as a player half her age,” Valerii said, “If I had that I’d still be playing.”

May passed on. How the team won wasn’t something she concerned herself with. Her job was keeping them on the field.

Perhaps appropriately, just down the hall from the coach’s office was the shipboard bar, which was currently playing host to a pretty raucous debate.

“No, you’re absolutely wrong. It’s Coruscant!” Falene insisted.

“It’s Mando’ade, hands down,” Alana insisted.

“Hapes, for sure,” Morgan Alesh said.

“Nope. Try Rydonni Prime,” Comstock said.

All four had drinks in their hand and things looked pretty heated.

“What’s the question?” May asked.

“Who hates us the most,” Alana said, “And it’s clearly the Mercs. We were just there. Didn’t you hear how they booed us everytime we had the ball?”

“No, they were just booing you every time you had the ball,” Falene said, “The Senators hate us. We smacked them down two years ago on Truce Day to deny them a playoff berth. That breeds major league hatred.”

“Yeah, well historically the Senators have had good playoff success against us,” Morgan interjected, “We’ve ended Hapes’ playoff hopes twice in three years. They really hate us. We are walking into a nest of vornskrs at this very moment.”

“Is no one forgetting the fact that Rydonni Prime does a tap dance with permacrete clogs on our face every time we play them?” Lizbit pointed out, “That’s definitive proof of hate right there.”

“I wish I didn’t have to tell you guys, but you’re all wrong,” May said gently. The four players all looked at her quizzically. “It’s Nar Shaddaa. I’ve spent a lot of time in Six Boroughs. They really, really hate us here.”

“That’s crazy.”

“No way.”

“You know they secretly love us there.”

“I mean we bring alcohol with us every time we come.”

“Well, lately we’ve been taking it with us too…”

“No, the Senators definitely hate us more--”

“No, it’s the Mercs--”

May smiled. It was a debate that would never be resolved, nor would the answer ever truly be known. An evil empire attracted many enemies. She turned to head further back in the ship when she was arrested by a sudden call from the gaggle.

“Hey, May,” Niskat suddenly called out, “You never told me about the surgeon’s hands thing. About why Falene says you have them, but you’re not a surgeon.”

May turned back to look at the group. “Oh, yeah. Well, it comes from when my sister got married. See--”

“Hold on,” Falene said, standing, “We need to get everyone in here for this.”

“No, we don’t,” May sighed, putting her hand in one head. This was embarrassing.

“Yes we do,” Falene said. She leaned out the door and hollered, “Hey everybody! Get in here! You’re going to see something cool!”

The team, including the coaches and even Tunross and Cundertol filtered in, crowding into the bar.

“What’s going on?” Gaeriel asked?

“May’s going to do her party trick,” Falene said.

“No, I really don’t have to,” May said.

“Oooooh, is it a magic trick?” Niskat asked, clapping her hands happily, “I love magic tricks!”

“No, it’s something much cooler,” Falene said, “I’ll be right back. I have to go to the galley.”

As Falene wedged her way out of the crowded bar, Morgan Alesh looked confused. “What does she need from the galley?”

“You’ll see,” May said, now resigned to her fate, “So, this is a game that the kids on Roon would play when we got bored. It turned out I got pretty good at it, so on a bet at my sister’s wedding I did it super fast and now it’s kind of my claim to fame in the family.”

“But what is it?” Jolla Pic asked.

“It’s called Five Finger Fillet,” May said, “and it’s--”

“Got it!” Falene called out, squeezing back into the bar. However, her passage in instantly became easier than her passage out, because Falene was brandishing a cutting board and vibroknife over her head. Everyone was more than glad to clear a path for her. Falene put it into her cousin’s hand.

“Well, I guess it’s easier for me to show you,” May said, “Can I get a seat?”

Everyone made some room, but then immediately crowded around to see what would happen. May put her left hand down on the cutting board, fingers splayed. She took a deep breath, held it and then exhaled. It seemed that the rest of the bar then started holding their breath, but no one was quite sure why. All they knew was that this seemed rather tense and somehow dangerous.

Then, in one great flourish, May flipped the vibroknife in the air and caught it by the hilt, its blade pointed down. Starting just to the right of her thumb, May stabbed the vibroknife into the board with a solid clunk of metal against wood. Then she rapidly stabbed between the thumb and her index finger, then back to the left of the pinky. Then between the pinky and ring finger before moving back to the left of her thumb. The point of the vibroknife flew in May's hand between fingers, in what was clearly a choreographed sequence of stabs, executed with rapidity. All in all, 11 stabs right to left--and without a break she started over, flying through, until she got to the end and she went right back to the pattern. And then she did it again.

And on the last one strike, the 40th jab, May jammed the vibroknife with all force into the cutting board so that as she let go, it remained embedded in it, swaying back and forth from inertia.

Most importantly, there hadn't been so much as a knick inflicted in the whole process.

“Surgeon’s hands!” Falene exclaimed, grabbing her cousin by the shoulders and shaking her back and forth with congratulatory zeal.

The whole team joined in the congratulations and May couldn’t help but smile. Sure, it was a generally useless trick, but she had to admit that it was pretty impressive.

“Don’t do that too often, okay?” Tunross said as he shook May's hand, “I need those hands.”

“Promise I won’t,” May said, still smiling.

“Nicely done,” the doctor said. It seemed that Han was pretty impressed, despite himself.

The shuttle continued sailing on through hyperspace, serene and true, shepherding a team of souls through space. No matter where this team was going, they were on their way there.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja Jedi Gunny Vehn

 

IC: Me’lin S’rily
Same Time, Same Bat Channel

Bennett Halverson? Me’lin had never heard of the woman before. Of course, she hadn’t always been privy to Gark’s dealings with the company, so there was a slight possibility this had something to do with Andromeda. Maybe it was something that he needed? Then again, it was quite common for the Bothan to be in the office there, so if he had some work coming in wouldn’t he have sent it to the office instead of his house? After all, she hadn’t been told to expect a delivery today of anything, and she quickly ruled out Mykal and Galin as possible causes of this situation. If they had ordered anything, it would have come the normal way. Not in a briefcase, carried by a woman who seemed intent on not letting her know what was inside the case and not having come in a usual delivery vehicle.

There was only one explanation; this didn’t have anything to do with the company. Gark was a smart man; either he had simply forgotten to tell her that something was arriving, but she didn’t completely buy that excuse. No, there was something cooking here, something that sent a small tingle down her back.

“He’s not home at the moment,” she finally said. “Out at work.” The woman seemed very particular in giving this briefcase to Gark, which raised the red flags immediately. Only now could she tell that this was getting even more suspicious by the moment. She just hoped that Gark knew what he was getting into. “And he requested you drop this by? I wasn’t notified.”


TAG: Trieste

 

GM Post
S'rily residence, Coruscant

"Can I leave this with you then?" Bennett asked without skipping a beat. There was a good chance that Coruscant was a community property world. What was hers was his and his, hers. The briefcase was secured via a six digit code. If Mrs. S'rily knew the code, then obviously her husband had shared it with her and would want her to open the case and leaving it with her was not a problem. If she didn't...well, it was not going to make for a pleasant homecoming this evening for Gark if his wife's suspicions continued. Bennett was not one who burned bridges. All too often the road of life doubled back in unexpected ways. However, when clients didn't give precise instructions, she wasn't going to be responsible for what happened when she executed them to the best of her ability.

Then again...Bennett had an idea, if the Twi'lek was willing to accept the briefcase. "If you'd rather not, I'd just need to know where I could find Mr. S'rily this afternoon."

TAG: Jedi Gunny

 

IC: Geoff Copin
Goss-Pell Memorial Stadium, O’pahz, Carratos

It was an interesting game for Geoff to watch from the stands, I was the first time in ages he had watched a game from the stands rather than the field. It was a little liberating, he didn’t have to analyze the plays and find weaknesses, or keep a vigilant eye out for mistakes by his players. He could just enjoy a game and cheer on his players. Schnitt surprised Geoff in the first half by staying only one step behind Falene Trieste. On one play he managed to get some space and make a bar point. Most of the game Schnitt made passes to the forwards, usually Polis Vayne. Bara in the back line had a rougher time. He tried to stop Leia Adama but, she would just juke around him like he was standing still. Fifteen minutes in and the challenge team was down by seven points Geoff expected that lead to grow. Amazingly the All-Star teams lead never grew past seven points. Geoff realized that it was probably because the ELL players weren’t going at full speed but, in the moment he forgot all that and just enjoyed the game. He acted like a fan, cheered when Rhodri, Bara or Schnitt made a great play and booed when a Smuggler scored. After the game Geoff got a call from Schintt down in the locker room.

“Coach, me and a couple of pirates want to go out on the town, care to join?”

“Nah,” Geoff replied, “It’s getting close to my little ones’ bed time so I got to get them home.”

“All right, coach see ya’ later.” He deactivated his comlink and moved toward the exit with his family. In the cab back home Iris went over all her favorite parts of the game, and commenting on how Leigh should have been on the All-star team. Geoff and Laura share a look. They had put the incident with Leigh behind them but, hearing her name still caused a little bit of tension.

Shield Towers, O’pahz, Carratos

Bara was not at the door but, a Nikto that Geoff had never seen before. They passed by without a word and headed up to their apartment. The Copins had a quick dinner and started to put Iris and Ira to bed. After about an hour or so the two little girls were in bed and the parents went to bed themselves.

“You have fun today?” Geoff asked looking into his wife’s eyes. She smiled a little bit.

“Yeah, I can’t remember the last time we got to see a limmie game together.” Laura said

“I didn't look too ridiculous did I?” She propped her head up on her elbow.

“Limmie is your passion. You can’t help but be excited.”

“I guess I should ask if you enjoyed the game.”

“Yes you should, and of course I enjoyed the game. I love limmie too.”

“Have you changed your allegiances yet?”

“Babe, I love you very much but, I’m a Patriots girl through and through.”

“Ahh, your one flaw, your loyalty to that evil team,”

“Hey, you know deep down that you’re still a Demons fan.” She poked his chest with her finger.

“That’s it, I want a divorce.” He said holding back a laugh.

“I will file the papers in the morning, reason for separation: Irreconcilable Limme Teams.” They both laugh.

“We can’t tell Iris, I shudder to think want she would do if she found out mommy and daddy weren't behind Leigh Cavanaugh 100%.”

“She’d be inconsolable.” They laugh a little more then paused. Laura rolled on to her back and stared at the ceiling.

“How’s Ira been doing?” He asked.

“Fine,” Laura sighed, “getting that junior engineering set has woken some up in her. I have to keep a constant eye on her so she doesn’t try to take apart the holoprojector or the toaster or anything else she can get her little hands on.”

“Well, I guess we found their passions.”

“We’ll have to see if they hold on to those passions later on in life.”

“We can only hope.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

Geoff’s eyes opened slowly the sun wasn’t up but, the flashing lights of the signs filtered through the blinds. He activated the small holoprojcter in the nightstand. He noticed a news alert for the Pirates, most likely an interview with Rhodri after the All-star game. He tapped the notification and pulled up a video. It was not an interview but security footage from a bar near the stadium.

“What’s going on here?” He asked looking closer at the soundless footage. At the bar was Rhodri, Bara, and, Brian. Brian sat on the end next to what appeared to be a very talkative patron. It looked like Brian slammed his drink on the bar and stood up. In a flash he grabbed the man that was talking to him and threw him on the ground. No one seemed to mind until the corner back stomped on the prone man’s arm. Geoff could see the other man howling in pain clutching the injured limb. Brian raised his foot again but, before he could bring it down and the poor man’s head Rhodri and Bara tackled him to the ground. Geoff paused the video and reached for his comlink. “I want to talk to Brian.” He said to Schnitt.

“That’s going to be a little difficult being that the O’pahz Security Force has him in custody.”

“Schnitt, I don’t care if we have to forfeit the next game, he doesn’t play this week, or for the rest of the season.” The coach said forcefully in the microphone.

“I understand. I’ve already suspended him from all team activities for the foreseeable future and I know the commissioner will punish him too.”

“Do we know what caused that outburst?” Geoff asked

“Rhodri and Bara aren’t sure it was rather loud in the bar that night.”

“Well we get another week off I guess, we don’t have anyone to replace him.”

“Don’t worry It’s been taken care of,”

TAG: Trieste

 

IC: Me'lin S'rily

"If you'd rather not, I'd just need to know where I could find Mr. S'rily this afternoon," the woman said after a slight pause. Me'lin thought that this would be a much better idea, but there was only one problem; she wasn't sure if Gark was at work or at Team HQ. Frankly, at this point, she didn't know where he was. If he had been up to something, like this seemed to indicate, it was very possible he wasn't at either. He could easily be in some gambling den or other unsavory place. And she couldn't stand that thought.

"I'll hold onto it until he gets back," she finally said, a sense of unease in her voice. She wanted to make sure she got to the bottom of this. If Gark got the briefcase without being supervised, then he could make sure it disappeared without her ever seeing it again. That wasn't going to happen. She was going to grill him until the truth came out. If it took some sort of truth serum to pry out any bit of information, she would do it. Very likely Nat'alia had some of such an interrogation product in her possession, perhaps the Twi'lek could ask her to borrow some, or even buy some under the table. Then again, the Hapan was under employment with the company, not the team, so she didn't have any sort of seniority or power over what Nat could and could not do within the bounds of the corporation. So she was stuck here to wait for the Bothan to return home. "And who did you say you were with, if I may ask? I want to make sure he knows he got the proper delivery, since he seems to be expecting it."

TAG: Trieste

 

IC: Christine Gamble
Rydonni Prime

The All-Star Break was over, and now it was time to get back into the thick of conference play. The Senators were on the road with their 4-1 record against the similar-record Monarchs. It was going to be a battle between the team that was making a major turnaround against a squad that had never quite found consistency but over the past few weeks had discovered a few new offensive threats and in the first time in years were able to score in bunches. A potent Senator offense was going up against the stingiest defense in the league for the Monarchs in the Core War. That was enough for the media to pick up on this game as vital for both teams, and they figured that it would be chippy in accordance.

Christine didn’t have good memories playing against the Monarchs. They had back-alley whipped her team last season, dumping them to 0-9 on the year in front of the whole galaxy. Then again, who had been watching the Senators last year at that point? No one, most likely. This was a new year, and a new chance to finally turn the tables on the Monarchs. It was also the Senators’ first rivalry game of the season, so there was extra incentive to perform. It was no secret that the Senators couldn’t win rivalry games; some statisticians had done the math on such games since trophies had been introduced into each rivalry. The result was a less-than-stellar 6-15 record, with the Senators winning less than one ine very three rivalry games they played in. They also had a six-game losing streak in that department, being utterly embarrassed by their rivals the past few years. That had to change, the captain knew. They had to start winning again.

Winning had come in bunches recently, with the team tearing off four in a row going into the break to be tied with the Monarchs for first in the Solo Conference. But this was the meat of the schedule; critics still argued that the Senators had no chance, since they played an “easy” non-conference schedule and had the Hapes win at home. The true tests, they said, would be on the road against the Monarchs, then the next week against the Starkillers, and then a season-ending game against Bakura, which usually never worked out for the road team. This was going to be the big test of the season, to see if the Comeback Kids of Coruscant could continue their miracle run, or if they would fall apart when the going got tough. Staring at them in the face was history, not good in the slightest. They had lost four of the last five to Rydonni Prime, not the kind of thing you wanted in any series. A win here would go a long way towards legitimacy, and a loss, while crippling in the standings, was to be expected, so nothing would be lost except for some pride. They had nothing to lose, and as much as that was a problem, it could also be their motivation.

Coach Carelle echoed that sentiment in his pre-game speech. “I’m not a betting man,” he began, “but I couldn’t help but look at the betting line for today’s game. The Monarchs are favored to beat us by 10 ½ today, the highest spread in any game this week. We are expected to roll over and die on the road against a good team. And how could they expect us not to? This team sucked last year, and lost a lot of support. But this is a new team. We’ve gotten this far because of that talent we have, not just because other teams have underestimated us. There is nothing to lose today; if we get a win, that’s what we want, because it gets us closer to the playoffs. Maybe we can shut up a few critics with a signature win. But if we lose, they won’t be able to say anything negative about us because they didn’t expect us to do well coming in. So there’s nothing to lose for us today. We can only stand to gain from this game.

Offense, this is going to be your biggest test of the year. The Monarchs just simply don’t let other teams score. But we have a chance to break through; they are due for a major lapse at some point, and we can try to drill them coming out of the break. Remember your assignments and make sure to play fundamental Limmie; we can’t afford mistakes out there.

Defense, today is going to be a proving ground. We still have a young goalie to keep upright, so the pressure is going to be on. The Monarchs seem to have found some sort of offensive stride, so that doesn’t help matters. But what we do have going for us is that they still can be inconsistent. We need to force their other forwards to beat us; double-and triple-team Lynd and Adams if we have to. That way we can shut them down. But don’t get predictable, so mix up the coverages. Go one-on-one, then try some zone, and then bring a double-team if necessary. Make sure that the Monarchs can’t go to the well each time down the field. We have to make sure they change things up, and the more complex a game plan they need, the more likely they will make a mistake. Then we can capitalize on that. Hit them hard, but don’t always go for the kill if it means you can get burned. Play hard and smart; we have a tough one today.”


Christine understood that all too well. Today was going to be a rough one. But it wasn’t impossible, and that was the main point. They had to take this thing one game at a time. If they could do that, then perhaps they had a chance after all. Sometimes it was best just not to acknowledge the odds and just play.

TAG: CPL_Macja

 

IC: Kaitlyn Vehn

​

New Vertica, Nar Shaddaa

“I know the last few months haven’t been easy for you. I know you’ve struggled. You’ve questioned. You’ve wondered what in the world I am doing with my newfound power. To be honest, were it not for a good friend, I would’ve lost my way a long time ago. I have found my path. I have found my purpose. I promise to you now that the actions I took to eliminate the squalor in the Corellian Sector shall not be in vain. I shall rebuild this city. I promise you that much,” Kaitlyn said to a packed crowd in Six Boroughs Plaza.

“As a gesture of good faith I am instituting a blasters for books program. If the gangs of this Vertical City turn in their weapons to the police and make a serious effort to maintain the general peace and publicy safety, I will personally ensure that those members can go on to the highest levels of education they so desire. Turn in your blasters and receive an education that will change your life. No questions asked. I want a Nar Shaddaa that is better educated, better policed, and better suited to the ever changing galactic scene. No longer will the shadows be a safe place to hide. No longer will the chasms of the Vertical City be a place to forget what has gone so wrong. No longer will I take a backseat or turn a blind eye to the troubles that face everyone on this moon. I am your mayor and I intend to lead you to a new day, a new dawning, and a future full of hope, promise, and possibilities for those generations yet born!”

“I went after the Corellian Sector to take on a very dangerous man. A man who has terrorized Nar Shaddaa for years. That man is Markel Drexel and I want him to know if he is watching this broadcast that he will not be able to escape justice. We are coming for you, Markel. We are coming to hunt you down and there is nothing you can do to stop me. I urge you to turn yourself in or face the most severe consequences. Nar Shaddaa has chosen me to lead them forward, not you to keep them down. Together, forward!”

The crowd rallied and applauded as if there were no tomorrow. Banners waved, horns blew, and the people of the Vertical City felt like Kaitlyn Vehn was at least making an effort to go to bat for them.

For now, things were looking up for Kaitlyn Vehn.

Things were looking quite well indeed.

---

Depths of Nar Shaddaa

“Straight from Blastech,” the sales representative said.

Markel Drexel examined the blaster rifle, looked down the scope, and knew he held a quality killing weapon in his hands. This would serve him well. This would do everything he asked of it. What a tool, what a thing of beauty, no, a work of art, Markel thought as he delicately stroked the hardened exterior.

“Are you satisfied?” the representative asked.

“Very much so,” Drexel replied.

“Then on behalf of Blastech corporation we give this rifle to you as a gift,” the representative said. “Do let us know if you have any troubles with it. I hope in the future you will remember that you owe Blastech a favor and that all favors come with a price. Oh, and one last thing, I was never here.”

“Not a word from me,” Drexel said as he watched the sales representative walk some distance away to his vehicle.

“Tell me, you lovely girl, how you work,” Markel whispered as he tucked the butt of the rifle up against his shoulder. The rifle seemed to whisper back to him in those dark tones that he so loved to hear and so he looked down the scope and gently brought the sights down on the retreating salesman.

Markel pulled the trigger and that blaster rifle told him all her dirty little secrets. All the ways she liked to be pushed around. Told him how she liked to be treated. Told him what she could do. Told him everything he really needed to know.

Times were going to change soon on Nar Shaddaa.

He could guarantee that much.

---

Six Boroughs Stadium, Nar Shaddaa, Pre-Game Mercs vs. Smugglers

“I love this new stadium,” Victor Trubaan said as Trish and the kids took a seat.

“When will I get to see Mylessa McCloud!” Victor’s son asked.

“Soon,” Victor replied giving his wife a smile.

At least they’d worked hard to rebuild something. Both of them had pledged to work harder on their marriage this time around. Everyone deserved a second chance. His eyes wandered past his wife and onto a green Twi’lek sitting a few seats in front of him in the lower deck. His heart froze as he recognized the tattoos on her lekku. His mouth crept into his throat as he recognized who she was sitting with.

So Ken was getting lucky today, Victor thought.

---

“I’ve never been to a Smuggler’s game,” Shellie admitted.

“Really? I would’ve thought..” Ken let the comment drop.

“Whoring only gets you so far,” Shellie replied.

“Yeah, guess so,” Ken murmured hoping to move past the trap conversation he’d just inadvertently walked into.

“You follow the team?” Shellie asked.

“A little bit. Truth is I come to this game every year because it’s the best in the league. Don’t let those other fans sway you. The only game worth watching is this one. They actually hit each other to kill here. Both teams hate one another. Something to do with a feud between owners,” Ken replied.

“Sounds pretty serious. Where I come from such feuds are settled with blasters,” Shellie said.

“That may change with Kaitlyn’s new speech,” Ken said.

“Nothing ever changes on this moon, nothing at all,” Shellie replied.

“What do you mean? You’re going to become an amazing teacher, I know it. That’s just nerves talking,” Ken said.

“No, I wasn’t talking about that, I was talking about the never-ending violence. When is it going to end?” Shellie said.

Ken shifted uncomfortably in his seat. She had a point. He was a police officer and they’d done an awful lot of arrests lately especially with perps armed to the teeth.

“I don’t know, Shellie, I don’t know, but I promise I’ll keep you safe,” Ken said as he took her hand into his own and gave it a squeeze.

“I love you, Ken,” Shellie responded.

“I love you too,” Ken replied as they kissed.


The game started and the problems of the Vertical City seemed to fade away as the roar of the crowd nearly shattered the glass of Six Boroughs.

Tag:Bardan_Jusik

 

GM Post
S'rily residence, Coruscant

Oh no. Bennett was not getting roped into that one. She'd dealt with this one before. She handed the briefcase across to Me'lin. "Thanks very much for holding onto this for him," Bennet said, "The name was Bennett Halverson, from the bookkeepers. Have a nice day."

With that, Halverson headed back down the path to the curb where she stepped into the waiting airtaxi. She had a flight to catch. Given this conversation, she would be more than happy if she didn't have to come back to Coruscant for some time.

TAG: Jedi Gunny

 

GM Post

HSN Morning Headlines

• League announces two game suspension of Carratos' Brian Ebeling after his arrest by Carratos authorities
• Deputy Commissioner Gondorf: "The footage that we've seen is the reason for this suspension. We await the outcome of legal proceedings in this matter."
• Pirates sign Jace Sunrider (Human, Male, RCB, Ralltiir Starkillers) out of free agency

TAG: galactic-vagabond422

 

GM Post

What We Learned: All-Star Edition & Week 5

So we apologize for not having a Week 5 update. We all decided to go on vacation. Obviously, we told the interns to do our work for us. Did they? Of course not.

Agamar Packers – The Packers are back in the conversation for the Skywalker Conference playoffs. The only problem is that the third spot is going to be super, duper hard to handle.

Bakura Miners – Some superfan on Ylesia recently crunched the numbers and it turns out that Alana Glencross has been in the most All Star-Games. Like she needed another notch in her belt.

Carratos Pirates – The interns, despite being slackers who only do their own work and not ours, have now instituted a caf ban if we say bad things about Carratos. So...hey, how cool is that! And the only had the one rolling blackout--OW! OW! OW! HOT CAF! HOT CAF IN OUR LAP! INTERNS!!!

Coruscant Senators – When the Senators chose Adama as the first overall pick, there were some doubters. Considering that she’s now the frontrunner for the Ingbrand, there aren’t any anymore.

Euceron Storm – It was great to see Marte Nalo in the All-Star Game, especially getting to play with his son. Seriously, how often does that happen on an Elite League Limmie field? We hope they had fun, because that’s just as special as the season the Storm are having right now.

Hapes Consortium Buccaneers – Don’t tell Meredith Chambers-Vayne that the season is lost, because it isn’t. But one more loss like that and the wrong teams winning in Week 6 and it pretty much will be.

Kuat Triforce – How do you silence big doubters? Beat a team like the Miners, that’s how. Of course, it’s going to take more wins like that for anyone to really take them seriously.

Mando’ade Mercs – Aay’han Vhett should consider signing Bas Wren to an entry-level contract. The Mercs could use the help and clearly she would turn the hate knob for The Game of Rivals up to 11.

Nar Shaddaa Smugglers – The Smugglers won, but only by 2 points against a weak team in their conference. The Smugglers are beginning to look like a good team on flimsi and that’s not Smugglers limmie.

Ralltiir Starkillers – So maybe things aren’t that great for the Starkillers right now, but at least they’ve got another Vigo in the pipeline who’s going to lead them to greatness!...in approximately a decade, so in the meantime Starkiller fans should just hold tight.

Rydonni Prime Monarchs – We feel like everyone is ignoring the Monarchs. Galaxy: stop ignoring the Monarchs. They are very, very good. If you don’t stop, Vesper Lynd is going to beat you up. We’re not joking. Also, Liddy Powe: call us. You are adorable.

Ylesia Lightning – Does having two “starting” goalkeepers mean that the Lightning actually have none at all?

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja galactic-vagabond422 jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Polydroxol Rebecca_Daniels Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn

 

IC: Me’lin S’rily

Me’lin watched as Halverson walked away to a waiting taxi. She didn’t like something about that woman, whatever it was, and was glad that she was gone. The Twi’lek closed the door and placed the case down on the floor.

She wondered what was in the briefcase. From poking around on it a little bit, she could tell that it was made of solid-grade material; this was no ordinary briefcase that could be found at any department store. This was something a serious individual would wield. And that worried her. What had Gark gotten himself into?

Was in a bomb? She leaned in to the briefcase, but didn’t hear any ticking. But that didn’t mean much, she knew. Ticking bombs were a cliché in the media, and she doubted that if anyone wanted to blow her up, they likely wouldn’t have given the recipients any hints along the way.

She started to consider calling Gark, to ask him what this was about. He hadn’t said anything to her, after all, so now she was left completely confused about the reason for this delivery. She could leave it outside, but her conscience told her not to. Gark had to get the delivery, no matter who it was from or what was inside. But her curiosity jumped every second she spent staring at the case. What was inside it? Would Gark be angry if she took a quick peek? Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t dangerous? The woman at the door seemed slightly mysterious, so she doubted this was anything she needed to know about. Was it another case for the crimefighting alter-ego the Bothan had? He had done what he could to separate himself from Superbothan, but no matter what he tried to do, it always seemed like Gark was stuck back in that role at some point.

Finally she came to a conclusion. She had to know what this was all about. Too many warning flags were popping up in her mind to sit idly by while this briefcase sat here. After all, she was alone in the house, and if it was an explosive, then she would be the only one killed. Galin and Mykal weren’t due home for another hour at least, so they would be safe from any sort of blast. There was a major element of danger to this, but caution being thrown to the wind here was tossed out in favor of knowing what was inside. Maybe it was the curiosity, maybe it was the concern for her husband, maybe it was the messed-up hormones from the pregnancy, or perhaps something entirely different.


But there remained one small problem; the case had a six-digit code lock on its exterior. Gark hadn’t said anything about a package arriving today, or what kind of code he would use to open said item. Obviously he had tried to sneak this in around his spouse, but she had finally caught him in the act. For the next half hour, she tried to rack her brain to figure out any clues on a code. Gark had once talked about his old high school locker combination; she tried that, but the case didn’t open. Of course not, Me’lin thought, that would have been too simple. She sat there looking at the case for another few minutes before trying a few other combinations, things she had seen on transaction forms, Gark’s personal correspondence, and other things she thought he might try to slip in under her nose. But none of them worked, and the case still sat there unopened.


Finally Galin arrived home, and he instantly wanted to know what was inside the strange new briefcase. Me’lin warned him not to ask, and finally the child went off to his room still confused about why his mother was being so coy about the contents of the case. Mykal mostly stayed out of the way, although Me’lin wasn’t sure if that was because he was better at staying out of the business of others, or if it had more to do with him just not seeing the briefcase.

When Gark got home that night, the first thing he saw was a briefcase that he had never seen before. The second thing he saw, and quickly after the first, was a very annoyed wife. “What’s that?” Gark asked, pointing to the briefcase.

“One Bennett Halverson dropped by today, from the bookkeeper,” Me’lin said, putting quite a bit of emphasis on that last word. “She said you were expecting a delivery. Now, you never said anything about a delivery today, especially not in a case, and not brought here by some woman I don’t trust. So it’s time you explain yourself.”

Gark had to work hard not to let his jaw droop. Now he knew exactly what was in the case - 340,000 credits. Halverson had brought the credits by as requested, but his plan had one flaw in it. He had never specified a place of delivery for the package. So Halverson had come to his home on a day where he had been at work, and his wife had been at home. His mind scrambled to find a good comeback, any way he could weasel out of this tight jam.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to get anything today,” he said. That seemed like a safe-enough answer.

“Oh really?” the Twi’lek asked, not buying the excuse. “I was told you were expecting this delivery today, in no uncertain terms. Now explain yourself.”

“Like I said, I don’t know what it’s supposed to be,” Gark said. He hadn’t meant to say this, but it had just come out. Now he was in a corner, not the kind of place he wanted to be in right now.

“Then let’s open the case and find out,” Me’lin said, the annoyed look still on her face. “Since you were expecting this, you’ll know the combination to open the lock.”

“Can we try some other time? I’m tired from work . . .”

“Open it now!” Me’lin exclaimed angrily, causing Gark to almost stumble onto his heel. He hadn’t expected this kind of rude greeting when he got home. “And I’m going to be here to watch you the entire time. There’s no way you’re getting out of this,” the woman said.

Gark had to do something. Maybe distract her so that he could move the briefcase. But how in the hell could he make 340,000 credits disappear in just a minute or two? That would force him to grab some sort of sack, and it would take time to carry all those credits around. He needed a distraction of some sort, but when he looked for Galin, who usually could be counted on to create such a diversion, the boy was nowhere to be found. It was just him now.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked, hoping this would change the subject.

“Open it, or I’m going to have to kick you out of this house, buster,” Me’lin said. Her ire was building with every moment, but Gark knew that if she found out what was in the briefcase, she would go ballistic on him.

“I don’t even know the combination,” Gark said. But then it flashed into his mind; what was his account number with Halverson? 214782, his mind told him. That was what the combination had to be; it was six digits, and apparently it was his personal code. Now he could open the thing, but he risked a lot of credibility in the process.

“I’m waiting,” his wife said.

“Fine,” Gark said. He reached down to the briefcase and entered a few false codes. Every time it failed to open, and then he looked up. “See, I can’t even open the thing. I don’t know the code. Maybe if you let me go to my office downstairs, I could find a way to drill this thing open. There’s gotta be a tool down on my utility belt that could cut this thing open.”

“You’d better hope you get to that tool first, because I’ll be looking for one to cut you open if you don’t unlock the case,” Me’lin retorted. “Because you know the combination. I know that you know what it is. Don’t play the fool with me, Gark. I know more about you than you care to realize. And I can cut you to the bone more than you realize.”

“How so?” Gark asked. He almost didn’t want to know.

“See this?” Me’lin asked, gesturing to her finger. It was the wedding ring the Bothan had given her when they got married in the 272 offseason. “I could simply take this off,” she said, rubbing the ring on her finger a bit, “and then file for divorce. Then I would pursue everything you have, including the house, the kids, and especially what’s in the briefcase, in court. And I could very easily win that case. Then you would never see Galin or Mykal again. The child I’m expecting would no longer be yours. You want to know what the wrath of a woman scorned is like? You’ll find out if you don’t open that briefcase.”

Gark was shell-shocked. Me’lin would divorce him if he didn’t open the briefcase? That didn’t sit well with him at all. He had to do this; his wife and family meant more to him than the credits in this case, and the margin wasn’t anywhere close. He slowly moved his fingers on the first lock to the 2, and then the rest of the digits came in order. The latch finally popped open, and now the credits were exposed to the air.

“Credits?” Me’lin asked. “You got strange credits from a woman? Who have you been sleeping with now, may I ask?”

“No one,” Gark replied. He had to let her know the truth before she really did decide to leave him.

“Was Halverson at least worth it for more than one night?” Me’lin asked indignantly. She knew that with her pregnancy, it was hard for her and Gark to have intimacy. Thus, it seemed like a perfectly logical accusation that he had been looking for a short-term fling while she was preoccupied in carrying their child.

“I’ve never even met her,” Gark protested.

“Then what are the credits for?”

Gark finally swallowed; his wife had to know. “I’ll tell you,” he finally said. “But promise me one thing.”

“What would that be?”

“Just don’t leave me,” Gark said. He now felt shattered enough to the point where he had to beg his spouse to stay with him. It was like he had to be prostrate in front of her, a feeling that he didn’t have often, if ever.

“Then what is this all about?” Me’lin asked.

“These are gambling winnings,” Gark said.

“Gambling? Since when were you gambling?”

“I bet on a few things last year . . . I know I shouldn’t have, but the team was doing miserably, and . . .”

“You were betting on the games, weren’t you?” Me’lin asked.

“Yes,” Gark finally said. “I bet on the games.”

“How could you do that? You know that betting is illegal!” Me’lin said. “You know how Peet Roose got banned from the game for betting on his team. How could you do such a stupid thing and risk your own place in the sport? And then not tell me that you were involved in bookmaking?”

“Because I was stupid,” Gark admitted. “Because I let the depression of losing every game get to me. I never should have made that choice, and now I’ve spilled my guts in front of you to keep you from leaving me.”

“I was bluffing,” Me’lin said. “I would never leave you over just one bad incident. However, that being said,” she continued, raising a finger. “I am still very angry at you. Just for that, I’m not speaking to you for a while. Any food you eat will be made by you, and you alone. I’ll only give you the crappiest ingredients; you’ll be lucky to scrape together a decent meal. You’re going to be stuck sleeping on the floor, or maybe the sofa if you’re lucky, out here. And I am certainly not going on the road trip this week, or next week, or anytime soon, for that matter. You violated my trust, and now I can’t let you get off scot-free. Consider yourself grounded, mister. Understand?”

“Inescapably,” Gark said, sighing. He knew he wouldn’t like the outcome of this.

The rest of the week was spent in quiet disgrace. Gark went with the team to Rydonni Prime, but his family was not there with him. So he spent the short ride there alone, and when he was up in the visitor’s GM/owner’s box, he kept his head down part of the time, not wanting to be seen. As for the credits, Me’lin had ordered him to donate them to charity immediately instead of pocketing them. They had eventually gone to two places; 250,000 credits, his original balance, went to the youth clubs program he had started several years earlier to help keep such clubs in rougher neighborhoods open. The winnings, 90,000 credits, had gone to help buoy a gambling help line center, with efforts to be a hotline for those struggling with gambling addiction. Me’lin thought it was fitting to do that, since her husband was now paying his gambling winnings forward to try and help others kick their habit.

When asked by Londy Whiste about why he was feeling so down before the game started, Gark just mumbled that it was personal, and that he didn’t want to talk about. Frankly, he didn’t want to say much of anything. Hopefully the team would give him something to smile about.



TAG: No One

 

IC: Pam Korthe
Corellia

Of course it had to be Corellia. It couldn’t be anything other than Solo Stadium, with the rabid Rebels fans calling for their team to rip off her head. Nothing had changed in the landscape that Pam noticed, but everything else had changed since she had last been in this matchup.

First, she was no longer coaching the Senators. The last time she had tangled with the Rebels, it had been an ELL game, a win, as she recalled, that had then been followed by a long losing string that had ultimately cost her the coaching gig. Now it was an LFL game, a developmental-league matchup with lower-caliber players. The Rebels, for their part, had gotten themselves demoted from the Elite League, and then obviously signed on with the Kuat Triforce to at least make it back to the Futures League and not get dumped into a lower league than the Premier League. Thirdly, the Rebels were not the same team they had once been. Gone was Corvo Antilles, their old star goalie. He had been traded to Rydonni Prime in exchange for peanuts, which led to speculation that the Rebels ownership had wanted to trade him for whatever they could get in return, not exactly for equal value. Also gone was Liddy Powe, a very serviceable back who had once teamed up with former Senator Rana Lel Dey and current Senator Haybius Korpus to make one hell of a Half Back line. Add in Kuat prospects, and the Rebels were a shell of what they used to be.

But that made no difference today. Today it was the Rebels, in whatever shape they were in. And today the Force had to win. They had five wins already, so they would finish the season with a winning record. Yet the Zeltron wasn’t satisfied; she wasn’t going to let up now. She wanted that first overall seed, and Byblos looked like it was going to give chase over these last three weeks. So a win here was important to stay on top.

The Force offense seemed to be set for the time being, but the defense was still a question mark. With Ziva Kender and her solid PA average going to the Senators several weeks prior, Oola Ban was now the goalie for the Force, the only one on the roster at that position. So she had a 48-minute date with the Rebels, one that Pam hoped she could dominate. Because the Force had come so far this year, and a slide at the end of the season would really kill their hopes, not to mention her own. She wanted to return to the Elite League someday; it didn’t necessarily have to be with the Senators, but she relished another chance on life at that level. So, although she was revered by the people of Thyferra for helping revive their team, at some point she had moved on from the Thyferran coach with a bright future to a veteran coach whose first go-around had ended badly. And today’s game was one step back towards her goal.

TAG: No One

 

GM Post

Welcome back after the all-star break. Bonus rolls to Bakura, Carratos, Coruscant, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, Ralltiir, and Ylesia. Reading through all the posts since we last had ELL games, a lot has happened since Week 5!

Week 6 Results
Coruscant Senators at Rydonni Prime Monarchs (40-19)
Kuat Triforce at Ralltiir Starkillers (30-28)
Bakura Miners at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers (28-23)
Agamar Packers at Carratos Pirates (20-24)
Mando’ade Mercs at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers (22-13)
Euceron Storm at Ylesia Lightning (12-18)

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja galactic-vagabond422 jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Polydroxol Rebecca_Daniels Runjedirun Tim Battershell Vehn

 

Sub-GM Post

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

Limmie Futures League
Week 7
Gallinore Firedrakes at Tatooine Sandskimmers (13–25)
Thyferra Force at Corellia Rebels (10–14)
Commenor Gundarks at Druckenwell Marksmen (23–2)
Concordia Crusaders at Garqi Gunners (15–7)
Byblos Red Wings at Eriadu Thunder (22–8)

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

 

IC: Ty Allin

It was a tight first half. The Triforce were coming off a win to Bakura and definitely had their confidence in their abilities to beat us. Our offense was looking good. Fortune, Jul, Sureysh and Stommer were all contributing. Hovechar was turning heads so fast the spectators were suffering from whiplash. If we could just stop points from being scored on our end we were going to prevail in the second half.

I ran out on to the field to begin the second half. The score was 17 to 18. The Triforce were on top. I reminded myself not to look at Roselli. When Roselli got nervous she had a habit of scratching her left boob. Often she would proceed to do this while standing only a few feet in front of me causing me to lose concentration. Was it appropriate for me to tell her to stop? I couldn’t decide. The ball was in play. Hovechar was scrambling up the sideline. She made a pass to Stommer. He caught it quickly tossed it to Fortune and he was able to tie it up.

This was our chance to stop the Triforce offense and help our team get ahead. I was playing a little too up field. A pass was coming my way, but it was over my head. I knew if I didn’t stop it the Triforce would put some easy points on the board. So I did the only thing I knew how. I leaped into the air and stopped it with my head. I used my neck to force the ball forward as it made contact with my forehead. The ball had been coming faster than I expected. I was able to do what I needed to do. Dev swooped in and grabbed the ball, passed it quickly off to Hovechar and from there I lost track of everything for a moment. When my feet made contact with the ground again there was a sharp pain in the back of my head. It was nothing I hadn’t experienced before. I looked towards the ground and waited for my vision to focus. When it did I heard the cheers of two plus million fans. Stommer had managed to get the ball in the net. We were up by three.

As soon as I was able, I ran back to cover the full forward. The Triforce were driving again. From the corner of my eye I caught Roselli moving her right hand towards her left boob. I couldn't help myself I watched her cup her boob. She rubbed it slowly at first, then faster. Suddenly I realized I had lost track of the ball. “Move left Ty Allin,” I heard Stun order from the goal box. “Move left!”

Instinctively I ran to my left. Still unable to locate the ball. Finally I spotted an object moving through the air, but it was too late. I had gone too far to the left. In desperation I dove right and narrowly missed the ball. It got by me, it got by Kaat, we were back to a tied ball game at 21 all. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Trey speaking to Kent, our back up keeper. The Starkiller offense was driving, Sureysh twisted her way around two defenders and put a point on the board stopping the clock. Kent came running in from the sideline.

“This is your fault Allin,” Kaat accused. But I paid no attention. All Kaat had done for the entire game was give us orders from the goal box. She had only made one save. Perhaps Kent would be able to help us pull out a win. Kent made a nice save on the next drive. Bringing us all up in spirits. I couldn’t help myself, I had to look at the sideline for Stun’s reaction. She sat stoic on the bench, hiding all emotion.

Our offense scored two more goals giving us a total of 28 points. The Triforce had only managed one goal, but they had put up three bar points. At any rate we were up 28 to 27. The crowd at Bankers Mansion was on its feet. Kuat was driving. We had to stop them there were only 30 seconds left on the clock. Closely I followed the ball through the air. It was caught by the Triforce full forward. He was right next to me and I went for the tackle. Somehow we were much closer to the goal box than I realized. I was able to make the tackle, when I hit the ground I rolled backwards toward the goal post and my head slammed into it. I heard a ringing, then nothing. I am not sure how long I was out but the next thing I heard was Jeffers. “He’s not responding,” I heard him call out.

I wasn’t ready to open my eyes yet but I knew I had to let him know I was okay and I knew I had to tell him fast. “I’m okay,” I said as loudly as I could making the pain in my head worse.

“Are you sure man?” I heard Jeffers ask. His voice was softer now, he had obviously crouched down next to me.

I forced myself to open my eyes. “I’m fine, just a hard hit, that’s all.” I said sitting up. “How much time is left on the clock?”

“Games over,” Jeffers said sadly. “We lost. Are you sure you are okay? I think I should call a trainer.”

“No don’t,” I said knowing that if a trainer found out I had completely lost consciousness that I would probably end up in the med center for the night. I had a family to take care of and a season to finish. I got up and almost immediately fell back down. Thankfully that goal post I hit my head on was still next to me and I was able to grab onto it for support.

By this time the Triforce and our offense had already lined up for the traditional hand shake line. Seeing that most of the defense was now crowded around me and the goal post a few trainers headed our way. “Damn it,” I said out loud. I let go of the goal post to make sure I could stand on my own. Fortunately I could. “I’m okay,” I hollered to the lead trainer. “Just go the wind knocked out of me.”

With that I began to walk at first then jogged over toward the end of the line. I felt a bit woozy, but managed to give each player tap with my hand and made my way towards the locker room without too much difficulty.

The trainers were overbearing in the locker room. I wasn’t even able to remove my sweat soaked shirt before three of them crowded around to ask me questions. “Are you feeling nauseous Mr. Allin? Is your vision blurry? Is there any pain in your head?” Were among the many questions being fired at me.

I took a seat on the bench. I wanted nothing more than to put my head in my hands and sulk. We had lost. I didn’t know the outcome of the other games today yet, but it was likely we had played our way out of the play-offs completely and there were still 3 games left. I had experienced this before in the ’75 season and it had been difficult to suit up. What reason was there to play when you had nothing to play for? And here I was unable to even hold my head, for if I did the trainers would order me for testing. I could possibly sit next week. In or out of contention I did not want to sit. I wanted to play Limmie, I wanted to earn my paycheck. So I sat up strait and answered the questions as best I could.

Once they were gone Trey came and sat next to me. “How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Frustrated,” I answered honestly. “We let the Vigos down, our season is over.”

“I’m not talking about your emotional state, we will have plenty of time to address that.” Trey began, “I mean physically. Are you sure you are okay? That was a hard hit. In the replay we were able to see your head making contact with the goal post.” He paused for a moment and put his arm around me. “Ty I need you to be honest, are you in any pain? I don’t want you to leave here if there’s a chance you suffered a concussion. Even a mild one.”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“You know how to reach me,” Trey said getting up. “If anything should change you call emergency and then you call me. Understood?”

“Yes, coach.” Once I was able to get dressed I made my way out my speeder. It was all I could do not to throw up on the upholstery as I made my way back home. Lucie was making dinner when I got there. My head was pounding and my stomach still unsettled. I told her the loss had taken my appetite and headed upstairs. Without thought I grabbed a bottle of painkillers form the med cabinet. I took twice the number of the recommended dose, put my head on my pillow and closed my eyes.

TBC

Tag Polydroxol

 

IC: May Trieste
Visitors Locker Room, Royal Limmie Grounds, Hapes

Dalton Ward groaned in pain as May applied a bacta patch to his side. "I thought these things were supposed to be restorative, not hurt worse," Ward said through clenched teeth.

"You've never had one before?" May asked.

"Not until now," Ward replied, "I guess I should consider myself lucky."

"The body needs a few minutes to adjust to the application of bacta," May explained, "It's still a foreign substance that's interacting with your body, whose natural inclination is to fight it. There's some temporary heat initially, but it'll be soothing pretty soon. You've led a charmed career if this is the first scrape that you've gotten into."

"I didn't say that," Ward said, "Just the first one where I've gotten dinged like that. Hey--anybody see which of the Mastersons was the culprit?"

"I never keep them straight," Wizmark shouted over the postgame hubbub of the locker room. The team was getting itself generally cleaned up before the media was admitted for the usual round of postgame interviews. The joke that they'd been talking about before the game was that Gary Zonka could have scored 50 points today, but the reporters would all cluster around the three female half forwards to talk about what an amazing game they'd played today and roundly ignore the full forward's effort. These were Hapan reporters, after all, and anything a man did was of thoroughly secondary importance compared to a lady, no matter how impressive.

"Just don't get quoted saying that or they'll get in a tizzy that you can't keep their beloved ladies straight."

"On second thought, Ward, just hang out like that when the cameras come in," Jolla Pic said, "Maybe you'll get some attention if you show off the 16 pack you've got going."

"Yeah, maybe they'll put you on a calendar or something for all the teenage Hapan girls to pin on their wall," Falene kidded.

"You know, one trip here and I'm suddenly rethinking the whole concept of objectifying beings," Ward said, grinning.

"What are you talking about?" May said, pressing the bacta patch firmer, "With this war wound you'll get tons of pity points. The media's going to be eating out of your hand."

"That all good to go?" Ward asked.

"Just don't make any sudden movements or twists and it'll hold," May promised, standing up, her work done.

"Got it," Dalton said, "Thanks Scarface."

May had been turning away to see who else needed medical attention, but she stopped cold at that last word. She turned around to look at Ward, who had a benign look on his face, as if he'd said nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps he thought he hadn't, but he had. Everybody else knew it too. May suddenly realized that no one in the locker room was speaking or perhaps even moving. That was how quiet the room had gotten. For over six weeks, no one had said anything. In all honesty, May was surprised that it had taken this long for the subject of her face to be mentioned. But for it to be mentioned like this was unexpected, to say the least. It had been a long time since someone had been so callous as to make such a reference to her disfigurement as that. Once May had encountered it regularly, the subject of childhood taunts that had served little purpose. She'd been able to ignore them then, her defenses lovingly built up by her parents.

"Beings in this galaxy...they get uncomfortable with different things," her father had patiently explained after one particularly trying day, "Sometimes that's other species, sometimes it's just ones that look different than them. When people feel uncomfortable, they like to do anything to make themselves feel better. They say hurtful things or they try to be funny at the expense of others. This is their fault, not yours. Nothing they say changes who you are. You can only control how you respond. And you should always remember that nothing anyone else says will ever change how much I love you."

They were the words a young child needed to hear, and they had helped. As May had gotten older, civility had become the norm among beings as they became exposed to more of the galaxy, to more difference and how it wasn't as threatening as they'd thought. Though slips of the tongue occurred, they were almost always regretted immediately upon being uttered. May couldn't remember the last time someone had ever said something like Ward had just said. She honestly didn't know how you respond to something like that. May stood there, dumbfounded, at a loss for any and all words.

"Hey, Dalton--"

The corner back turned to the voice behind him instinctively. Before he could even come all the way around, a vicious right fist hooked in and dropped him. Once Ward's body had hit the floor, it revealed Falene, standing there, her teeth grit, eyes burning, hair matted with sweat from the recently completed game, hand still clenched, chest heaving with deep breaths.

"Don't ever call her that again," Falene growled.

"What?" Ward said, staggering to his feet, "I can't be the only one who's thought it."

"Ward, shut the frak up before I punch you too," Niskat said, standing.

"Come on guys, I didn't mean anything by it," he persisted.

"Dalton, just stop talking," Alana said, a hard edge to her voice, "or do you want to keep digging that hole?"

"Fine," Dalton said, putting his hands up in a show of surrender, "Like I said, didn't many anything by it. We good May?"

There was a hesitation. "I'll go get you some ice for that," the doctor said, moving off to find the supplies.

On her way out of the locker room, May almost ran straight into Valerii, who was on her way in. "Okay everybody--a few--" The head coach immediately picked up on the tense mood in the room. She'd been a player herself for more than enough years to read a locker room. May hastened out of the room before any queries were directed at her, but she still heard Gaeriel ask, "What's going on in here?"

"Nothing, just a--" was all May caught of Alana's response before the door slid shut. She didn't care what excuses were made. She just wanted out of that room. Tending to Ward's jaw was a convenient excuse to get out.

The medical supplies were out in the corridor, a bit down from the entrance to the locker room. May knelt down to search for one of the instant ice packs that were part of the standard game day med kit. It didn't take long before she heard footfalls coming towards her, punctuated in the middle by the closing of the locker room door.

Not entirely knowing who to expect, May looked over. It was the candidate at the top of the list, her cousin. "You didn't have to do that."

Falene squatted next to May. "No, I did."

"Fae, I don't need your Taoiseach 'it's my duty' stuff right now," May said, going back to rifling through the med kit, "I'm fine."

"Maybe," Falene said quietly, "but I'd never live with myself if I didn't knock his block off."

"Oh good, glad you'll rest well tonight," May said, sarcastically, tiring of the conversation.

"Look, I know you have a family," Falene said, "but you were out there on your own for a long time."

"Grandpa Vehn lived with us. I know what an extended family is," May said testily, "Don't give me one of your Noble House lectures as if you invented the concept of being related to other beings."

"I'm not saying that no one cared about you on Roon. Far from it. All I'm saying is that more people care about you now. That takes getting used to."

"Well I'm not asking anyone to throw punches for me, Fae!" May suddenly exclaimed.

"I know," Falene said, "but the thing is that I'm your cousin and you're never going to need to ask. That's just who we are."

"So I don't get a say in the matter?" May demanded, "It's just a good old Trieste beatdown on anyone who so much as blinks the wrong way at us?"

"When they insult my cousin, yeah."

"You know what?" May said, standing up, which caused her to tower over her cousin, "You're right--I have been off on Roon. I'm not used to all this Noble House family ties and network. But guess what? My last name may be Trieste, but I'm still half Vehn. We fought our own civil wars and won. We turned the garbage dump that is Ord Mantell into an industrial center and gave them something to be proud of. We took the forgotten misfits of the Outer Rim and gave them a common cause through economic union. And the Vehns saved Naboo when it was rudderless and in danger of collapse. So guess what--the Noble House might know about the power of family, but at Tesserone I learned how to fight my own battles. So why don't you let me?"

Slowly, Falene stood up so she was level with May again. "Fair enough," she said with a smile, putting a hand on May's shoulder, "but just give a shout anytime, okay? You don't have to go it alone."

"I know, I'll let you know when I can use some help."

Falene turned and headed back for the locker room.

"Hey Fae."

"Yeah?" Falene said turning back around.

May tossed her an ice pack. "Can't let Ward's pretty face get bruised for the interviews."

Falene caught it. "Actually, if the Hapan media found out he got clocked by a woman, they'd have copy for days."

"Best not let that happen then," May said with a smile.

With that the pair parted. For her part, May was more than happy to move on from the incident. The last thing she wanted to do was to think about her scars. She knew ignoring them would never make them go away, but maybe it would help everyone else forget about them to the point that they'd stop seeing them.

Even so, May couldn't fool herself into thinking that was true. But she could hope.

TAG: Jedi Gunny Vehn

 

IC: Gark S’rily

The comlink on the desk started to chime its familiar tone, and Gark leaned over to pick it up. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered it anyways. “Hello?” he asked.

“Mr. S’rily, this is Esther Gondorf, the Deputy Commissioner for the Elite League,” came a very familiar drawl from the other end. The Bothan had met with the woman before, several years earlier on the Ava Killenger contract situation. But what was she calling about now?”

“Yes, we’ve talked before,” Gark said in reply.

“Mr. S’rily, this call is to inform you that that Commissioner and I have discussed your future and that of your team in the Elite League after news broke to us that you were involved in illegal sports betting during parts of last season. This includes at least one bet against your own team, which could convey tossing games for cash. We have been led to believe that you gained credits out of that allegedly-tossed game, which infers that you, as a coach on that team, were intentionally throwing it in the name of gambling. Therefore, you are guilty of illegal betting.”

There was a slight pause here. “You are henceforth banned for life from the Elite League. The Futures League agrees with us to bar you from coaching or owning a team in their ranks, and the Premier League likely will follow suit. The Senators, since they are technically not your property, will be stripped from your corporation, and you will be forced to cede control of it to the Elite League. These are harsh terms, but they are your just desserts for your terrible conduct. Our agents will be by shortly to see to the transfer, and that you vacate the premises immediately. Good bye, and have a nice day.”

The connection on the other end clicked, and Gark just heard static on the other end of the line. He was being barred from the Elite League for life for betting? Now he was just like Peet Roose, who had been the head coach of a team before being banned for gambling on games his team played in. Yes it was just a team, and life would move on without him, but the Senators had become his second family over the years. Now, to have one stupid mistake cost him all that, that was unthinkable. He sat there, stunned. This couldn’t be happening to him.

He finally got out of his seat, wobbly in the knees. He made his way out of the office into the central portion of the coaches offices. There was Me’lin, his wife, sitting at her desk. She didn’t look at him until he finally approached.

“You get word yet of your ban?” she asked bluntly.

“I didn’t tell a single soul I was involved in gambling,” Gark said, confused. “How does the League know? Halverson made sure this was all confidential.” He paused and studied the Twi’lek’s face. She had an expression that he didn’t want to see. The bottom of his stomach fell out.

“You told them, didn’t you?” he finally asked.

“Of course, it was only natural that the league know that you were involved in illicit activities,” she said with that same blunt tone. “After all, you threw at least one game last season, and you gained credits out of it, according to the log. So you were betting on the team to lose, and you profited. I could not sit idly by and let this team suffer any longer under your control, so I tipped off the League. They are now coming here to relieve you of command.”

“How could you do this to me?” Gark asked, shocked that his wife would do this to him. After all they had been through . . . “What have I done?”

“You should have thought about your actions before betting on the outcome of games,” Me’lin said icily. “But you didn’t, so that is your fault. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” She stood up, and then somehow disappeared from sight. All that was left on the desk where she had just been at was the wedding ring that had once been on her finger.

The scene then changed, and Gark found himself in a very dark void. It was empty like space, no lights coming from any direction. He looked down; he was sitting on the couch. Trying to get up, he found that he could not move. The couch sucked him back to it like a black hole. Then light filled in around him, and he could see a chapel. There was a wedding going on, as he could tell, and his heart sank when he saw that the bride was Me’lin, being married off to another man. Gark leapt off the couch, but slammed into steel bars that formed themselves out of nothingness. He tried to rip them off their hinges, but it was no use. He screamed out at the Twi’lek not to go through with this, but no one could hear him. He was a prisoner.

Then a voice came to his head. It was hers, angry and stern. “You get to sleep on the couch. Forever,” it kept repeating in that same monotone.

“I don’t want to sleep on the couch! I don’t want to sleep on the frakking couch!” Gark kept yelling, trying to get the voices out of his head.

Finally Gark snapped awake. The sheets of his bed in the hotel room on Rydonni Prime were soaked with sweat, and Gark checked to make sure that there weren’t any bars around the bed. That had just been a bad dream, he thought as he collected himself again. Then he heard a banging sound on the door. “Sir, are you all right?” came the voice of a security guard the team hired to travel with the team.

Gark paused for a few seconds, then went to unlock the door. He found the guard outside. “I’m fine,” he said. “Nightmare.”

“You were shouting,” the guard said.

“I was?” Gark asked, perplexed.

“Yes. Hopefully no one else heard you, but you were screaming about not wanting to sleep on the couch. Is something going on that I need to know about?”

Gark wasn’t about to say anything to the man, so he decided to feign innocence. “No,” he said. “It was a bad dream, that’s all. Thank you for checking in on me.”

“Anytime, sir. Sleep well,” the guard said before walking down the hall. Gark shut the door behind him, but he didn’t feel tired anymore. Instead he used the refresher and then sat in the darkness of the room for a while. He tried to watch Holo, but there was nothing on, so he turned it off.

The nightmare told him that he had definitely done something wrong. But was it true that Me’lin would report those dealings to the League and have them issue him a lifetime ban? Could she betray him like that? After all they had been through together, he couldn’t imagine that happening, but she was still angry at him, and had threatened to leave him. What could he do at this point was the question.

There was only one solution; he had to make things right with her and for himself. He had wronged her by not telling her the truth, and she needed to trust him again. He tried to rack his tired brain for what he could do to try and smooth things over, but it was hard to when he didn’t quite feel right. What would convince her that he had just made a mistake?


Finally he went back to bed, but he sat there awake for another hour before sleep overcame him once more. This was a perplexing query, and for once he didn’t have an answer for it.

TAG: No One

 

IC: Christine Gamble
Grande Villa, Rydonni Prime

This was going to be a huge matchup, the fans and critics all knew. It was for first place in the Solo Conference, featuring two teams who had struggled in 277 to find traction and missed the playoffs. The Monarchs had come close to the postseason but barely lost out, and the Senators had been utterly decimated all season long. Both squads had come back with a vengeance this season, racing out to 4-1 overall records coming in. And now it was time to find out which one would walk out with victory #5.

Christine’s matchup today was Rew Ileo, the starting corner forward for the Monarchs. He had been the first overall pick in their draft class, and Christine had been the fifth overall selection. However, Ileo’s career had never quite taken off as would be expected for a #1 pick; then again, Christine thought, when you were on a team with Vesper Lynd, who was widely regarded as one of the best forwards in the league, touches would be somewhat scarce. Add in Maggie Adams, who had experienced a revival of her career after coming over from the Mercs in the offseason, and Ileo didn’t have nearly the number of chances he needed to really make a major impact that the falaxy would acknowledge. Still, as any offensive coordinator with a brain would know, sometimes you didn’t have to score a lot to be useful. Right now the Monarchs offense was humming along, and Christine was sure that if she could lock down Ileo here, perhaps that would derail their offense enough to allow her fellow defenders to gain an advantage. She had to try.

The big question of the day for the defense was how Ugdulo Borr and Deluxx would do in their tag-team fight against Lynd. The star forward never came out, it seemed, so sixty minutes was going to be the target goal for this game. Borr, a Chevin, was slow, and Deluxx, despite being fast and tough, was still a rookie, and asking him to keep tabs on Lynd for a long time would easily spell disaster if rookie mistakes appeared. So the Weequay was going to have a tough assignment today. Thus, Rosa Berant had drawn up some different coverages, allowing her best defenders in both Christine and Jenna Leed, finally back from injury, to swap over and cover Lynd and Adams every now and then. If they could get in the Monarch forwards’ heads even a little bit by cheating over the defensive aces on switches, perhaps they could avoid letting those forwards get comfortable in their individual matchups. Double and triple-teams were also on the docket, although with how methodical the Monarchs offense had been as of late these were seen as a major gamble and were to only be utilized if their defense was being shredded.

Also on the list was how they would deal with three starting midfielders. Christine had never faced a system with such an alignment; Euceron, with its Antilles Formation, didn’t rely on middies to get the job done, so having to deal with a third midfielder would make for an interesting assignment for the starting Senators there. Unfortunately, both were rookies, and it was hoped that they would not be confused by the alignment their opponents used. Midfield coach Aruti Gurvey had drawn up plans to utilize veteran midfielder Gayla Renhorn to more effect in this one, seeing as she had the most experience on the roster at the position. Peet Carelle had decided to go out and attack those midfielders, using their lack of a sixth defensive back to try and force the issue on the Monarchs defense. Yes having three midfielders made it easier to keep the ball in the possession of the offense, the first-year coach said, but it also would harm their defense by taking away a dedicated defender and having them replaced by a hybrid. There was no way that third middie could be as good as a half back. And that’s what he wanted the Senator offense to attack.

And the offense came out with a bang. On the first possession of the game, Vail Pin, the “point guard” for the offense, was able to find a seam on her pass to Max Qorbus. The Nautolan pushed around his matchup, Cora Xux, and finally muscled his way through her tight coverage. The ball came out his hand and snapped into the back of the net. This shocked the Monarchs fans in attendance, many of whom were still getting to their seats. They hadn’t seen their defense give up many points all season, never mind the number of goals they had ceded. 24 points in five games coming in, and within a minute the Senators had already put up three.

Christine found herself following Ileo around on the next possession. The fourth-year forward was trying to make a curl route on her, but she bumped him off that route. The ball intended for him instead flew off to the side and she picked it off with ease. So far so good, she thought as she chucked it up to Sharsy Wenips. The Zeltron rookie was mauled by Severine, but somehow had the wherewithal to get the ball out of there before the second-year Hapan got her hands on it.

Time and again the offense got into Monarchs territory and started to wreak havoc. Leia Adama, the rookie sensation, had the matchup on Liddy Powe, her teammate on the ELL All-Star team in the All-Star game the prior week, and an assistant captain on fan votes to Christine. Leia tried to get free from the Zeltron, but Powe had her covered well. Undeterred, Leia twisted around and then faked a jaunt to the left before going right. Powe couldn’t keep her balance and teetered over just enough so that the rookie could get around. Former Rebel Haybius Korpus, who had played with Powe for several seasons on Corellia, had told the rookie how to dominate his former teammate, and it looked like Leia had taken the advice. The ball came in from Litan Kuna, the reserve full forward who had come in on a quick switch for Thulius Jomas, on an absolute rope, and Leia caught it. The ball tried to squirm free from her grasp, but she finally clutched it with both hands to make sure it couldn’t escape. Then she sized up Ozzie in goal. The Chiss man had been dominant thus far this season, yet hadn’t been voted to the ELL All-Star team. That had seemed like a real snub, but such was life with a fan vote.

She faked left, but the Chiss had it covered. She went right, almost running into Xux as the longtime Monarch dove but missed. Taking a quick look behind her, Leia finally chose her spot and dropped the ball to kick it. Xux grabbed her leg and tried to bring her down, but Leia was able to drill the ball with her other foot. It clanked off the crossbar, but bounced off Ozzie and went back into the field of play. Leia had been tripped up and couldn’t get to the ball, but Anya Amasova, the Senator half forward, was there. She slid towards the ball and got a cleat on it, sending it spinning towards the goal line. Ozzie couldn’t get there in time, and the ball passed the goal line for three points.

Later in the half, Leia got her chance on a pass from Pin. She dodged Xux once more and was in open space. Faking a pass to Max Qorbus to freeze Drista Konnenwirth, the rookie kept it going up the gut. A nicely-timed block by Thulius Jomas, the soft-spoken big man, freed her up, and quickly a goal went up on the board when the full forward emerged from the frame of Jomas just long enough to fire off a shot before a diving Bella Starr could get there. Ozzie didn’t have the time to find where the ball was before it was on top of him, and he deflected it into the goal as it came screaming at his head and he reached up to try and block it.

On defense, Christine was shutting Ileo down completely. She pushed him down time and again, and when he tried to fight back, she was dig into the ground and stand there to take his punishment. He wasn’t the most physical forward she had ever faced, and she was winning the battle by dealing out more punishment than she was taking. When the gameplan called for her to double over, she switched off with Patricia Meter and then blanketed Maggie Adams. At one point Adams came out of a move and ran into Christine. In her hesitation, she dropped the ball on minimal contact with the corner back, and Christine then kicked the ball away before the Monarchs could recover it. Then she shifted back to Ileo, just to make sure he didn’t get any advantages. This swapping system was doing wonders on Lynd and Adams; although they were getting their shots on goal as usual, since Borr was still slow with his bulk, they weren’t nearly as good scoring looks as forwards liked them to be. Although he was giving up points, Senators goalie Jam Tarpals was making some nice plays and keeping the Monarchs from breaking open the Senator defense with a points parade. His defense was keeping him upright, and he was making enough plays to help the defenders out by covering up their mistakes.

At the half, the Senators held a ten-point lead. It was the kind of advantage you wanted on the road in a harsh environment like this, and quieting the opposing crowd was a major achievement. Still, there were thirty minutes to go, so the Senators could not afford to put their feet off the gas pedal. The Monarchs had gotten this far with offense and defense, and who knew when their offense would finally break out of its first half slump and get back on track. So the Senator defense still needed to be on high alert.

“Keep hitting them hard and switching out,” Coach Berant said to her defenders. “It seems to be working on their stars, and we’re keeping them off balance enough to make them think twice about camping down low.”

The Monarchs had seen enough of Ozzie in the first half, and now former Rebel Corvo Antilles was in there in relief. The Senators countered by ramping up the pressure; Antilles was good, so they had to find ways to dent his armor. Qorbus started to get closer to the goal box on his possessions, pushing Xux around like a rag doll. The Nautolan was being extremely physical, and at one point wiped out Liddy Powe on a drive by Leia Adama. But he wasn’t just being physical; he was facilitating the offense. He would park down low, get the ball, back down his matchup, and then either shoot the ball from a decent position or fire out to an open teammate and then set a good block to free them up. He did this twice to Leia, who cut across the axis of the Monarchs defense and got nice passes on the run. She converted one of these into a goal, and the other was able to find Leann Lightcin, a reserve forward, on the wing that the newcomer cashed in with for a point over the bar.

All the while, the Senators started to bring in some of their reserves in short stints to keep the starters fresh. As they wore down the Monarchs offense, it became obvious that the tide wasn’t going to turn in favor of the home team. The Senator offense was clicking on all cylinders; it seemed like they were scoring, or at least had a good scoring opportunity, every possession. Bar points and goals were going up in bunches, and Antilles was getting worn out in goal by the barrage of Senator shots. Former Rebel Gemma Sal-Solo, subbing in briefly for Qorbus, beat her former teammate on a nice shot from the low block for her second goal of the season. Not too long after, a turnover forced by Vex Blooker, in for Christine, caused a Senators fast break that was cashed in with an Ava Killenger goal. It was her fifth goal of the season, and pushed her to 20 points on the year.

Finally it was obvious that the game was in hand, and the Senators started to put in their reserves. The Monarchs were able to score a few points on Jam Tarpals before he got pulled late for Ziva Kender, who quickly surrendered a goal but otherwise did well in her eight minutes of game time. Christine went over to the bench with her fellow defensive starters, and they were all smiles. There she was, the captain of this defense that last year had been so terrible. There was Jenna Leed, back from injuries sustained in a speeder crash several weeks earlier and yet not looking rusty at all. Patricia Meter, the first overall pick in the 277 Draft whose usefulness had been in question coming into the year, had done her job on Jaymes Nolan and Maggie Adams when a switch occurred. Haybius Korpus had locked down Artor, and kept him from even getting a single shot on goal in his time out there. The Quarren usually had blank expression on his face, but it was obvious that he was talented. Ugdulo Borr and Kara Milovy were also on the bench now, Borr having done well enough against Lynd and Milovy staying even with Aptos on the other corner. It had been a good team effort, and when Jam Tarpals came off the field finally, Christine was the first one to greet the Gungan.

“Good game,” she said.

“Meesa did well,” the Gungan said.

“We’re going to need that every week, you know,” Christine said as the Gungan walked over to the cooler for a drink. “Don’t let it up now because you have two wins. Keep that fire going.”

Finally the game ended, 40-19 in favor of the Senators. Christine had never been on a team at this level that had scored that many points in one contest. The Senators, who had been offensively challenged in 277, had bust out in this one on the stout Monarchs defense, making them look absolutely silly in the process. League insiders would likely start to wonder if the Monarchs were falling apart on defense, or if this was just one bad game. But there was no doubt that the Senators had potential, and could unleash hell on opposing teams. Even if the gravy train derailed starting the next week, at least they had some things to hang their hats on. They were guaranteed a winning record for the first time in three years, so that was a plus.

The final scoring log was jammed with points. Leia and Max both notched hat tricks, Leia now up to 13 goals on the season, and Max with 11. Christine thought that the Nautolan should easily be a Comeback Player of the Year nominee; he had scored all of 1 goal the entire 277 campaign, so to have 11 goals after six games was quite a turnaround. Also, he was back in the flow on offense, and was helping facilitate things when necessary. Anya and Ava had both notched goals, both of them now over 20 points on the season. Gemma Sal-Solo and Laura Cellen contributed goals off the bench, Cellen now up to 13 points in her rookie season off the bench as a utility forward. The sixth overall pick in the 278 Draft, she was overshadowed by Leia, but still was finding a niche on the team. Bar points came from all over the forwards roster, so it had been an excellent team offensive game.


The Senators were going to stay on Rydonni Prime overnight before making the short trip to Ralltiir for their next game. Although it wasn’t very far from Coruscant, team management had decided to stay on the shuttle during the week to keep the momentum going. The plan was if they won here today, they would be able to keep their momentum to Ralltiir. If they had lost, they were going to keep an eye on the players and make sure that they worked hard in practice. Now they would have two days on Ralltiir to prepare, a luxury most road teams didn’t have. This would be their chance to get used to the environment on the planet before going into the game there. And it would be another big test. So Christine made sure to get back to the hotel and go to bed promptly. She wanted to be ready for the home stretch. Today’s win was nice, but it wasn’t over just yet.

TAG: CPL_Macja

 

​

(Warning: Song does have a few “bad” words)​

​

IC: Shellie Oneida​

Apartment 208 C, Duros Sector

“Frak, this isn’t making sense!” Shellie groaned as she shoved her datapad away and rubbed her eyes.

She’d been studying for hours to pass this entrance exam. Everytime she thought she was getting the hang of the material it eluded her. Eluded her more than anything else she’d ever done. To top matters off she was running out of money. The government assistance only helped her so much. Even on a tight budget things were challenging. She had a hard enough time going into the Nar Shaddaa Department of Sentient Services. Matter of pride. She didn’t want any help. She wanted to make it her own way. She wanted to climb out of the gutter and make something of herself. She wanted to be so much more than just a whore. She wanted a life. She wanted a career.

Shellie stood and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. Forget what people said about Nar Shaddaa not being cold. It could get cold when you could barely pay your monthly rent and you were stuck in the lower levels, in the dark depths, the forgotten underbelly of a city and a moon so corrupt it hurt to the very core. She didn’t have any family here. They were all back on the Twi’lek homeworld. No, she had no one. She didn’t have—

A knock on her door.

“Coming,” Shellie said as she trudged toward the door wrapping the shawl tighter around her as she did so.

She opened the door.

“Mind if I come in?” Ken asked.

“I’m studying, Ken,” Shellie said.

“Oh, bad time?”

Shellie sighed and shook her head. She wasn’t getting anywhere with her studies anyway. She could use a break.

“Yeah, come in,” Shellie said as she left the door open and went back to the balcony.

“You look tired,” Ken said as he wrapped his arms around Shellie.

“This test is killing me. I don’t think I can do this,” Shellie said.

“Course you can,” Ken said. He sat down and looked over the materials. “Yeah, Shellie, you can do this.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” Ken said.

“I appreciate you believing in me,” Shellie replied as she straddled his lap and kissed Ken on the neck.

“I thought you needed to study,” Ken said.

“I don’t need to study anything,” Shellie whispered in his ear, “but you on the other hand.”

“Is this a test?” Ken said as they kissed.

“Mmmm hmmm,” Shellie responded as she unbuttoned her blouse. “Pay attention, Ken, because the answers are all in the details.”

Shellie’s shirt fell away from her and Ken grunted with admiration, “I’ll say.”

---

IC: Ken Wattsone

A few hours later Ken awakened and slipped out of bed. He felt edgy. Felt off. Needed to fix that. Needed to get a fix. Any fix. His hands were shaking pretty badly. He was still using spice on the side. He’d brought some with him to take the edge off. He flicked the packet open and spread it out onto the caf table in front of him. He ran his fingers over the spice. This was good stuff. One little lick wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?
He leaned over and was about to use the illicit drug when a voice stopped him dead to rights.

“Ken, don’t.”

Ken closed his eyes. He’d been caught. There was no going back now.

“Shellie,” Ken weakly tried to explain but a green finger pressed against his lips.

“I don’t want excuses. I don’t want explanations. I want you to quit. I want you to stop. Stop for me and,” Shellie looked away, embarrassed, into the dark shadows of the room.

“Stop for you and what?” Ken asked as he looked at his drugs spread all around the caf table. He felt like an idiot. The rational part of his mind wanted him to quit. He wanted to quit. He wanted to stop but Shellie of all people should know that it wasn’t so easy to get off the stuff. Cold turkey wasn’t easy. The withdrawals could be painful.

“Nothing,” Shellie spun and faced the opposite direction.

“No, you’re not getting away so easily. Tell me,” Ken said as he raised his voice and looked down at Shellie.

Shellie had a brief moment of fear. Tears came to her. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

Ken recoiled slightly. Felt terrible. He hadn’t meant to be forceful. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice. Hadn’t meant to scare her to, trigger her.

“I’m sorry, Shellie,” Ken said as he collapsed next to his love. “I’m not Drexel. I won’t ever hurt you, got that? I’ll never hurt you!”

He wrapped an arm around Shellie’s shaking figure and drew her close. Eventually, slowly, her shaking stopped. Ken ran a finger down her cheek, caught her tears, kissed her on the forehead and whispered, “Tell me, Shellie.”

“I need you to stay clean, Ken. I love you so frakking much. I can’t have you doing this stuff. It’s not good. Not good for me or for,” Shellie paused and Ken knew something important was coming, “our child.”

“You mean,” Ken said as he looked into Shellie’s eyes.

“Yes,” Shellie replied.

“I love you, Shellie. I love you so much,” Ken whispered as he kissed her on the lips. “I’ll do anything you want me to do. Anything.”

“I know,” Shellie replied with a laugh.

---

IC: Victor Trubaan

Six Boroughs Parking Lot

“The Smugglers suck,” Victor’s son complained as they left Six Boroughs stadium.

“Watch your language,” Trish said.

“Why didn’t we stay to get McCloud’s autograph?” Victor’s daughter asked.

“McCloud was tired, honey. She played hard on all game and the bucket-heads—“

“Victor, they’re Mandalorians, not,” she quietly mouthed the word bucketheads. “Maker, it’s no wonder our kids have foul mouths,” Trish snapped.

“What? That’s what they are, bucketheads. They beat the snot out of the Smugglers. I’m not going to protect our kids from everything in life,” Victor complained as they got into the speeder.

“Daddy?” His daughter asked.

“Yeah, sweetie, what is it?”

“What’s a buckethead?”

Trish looked away from Victor and shook her head. Victor cursed under his breath and tore away from the curb, nearly running someone over in the process. Things had seemed to be going pretty smoothly there for awhile. What had changed? He didn’t know. He thought about the game. How the Mercs had really taken it to the Smugglers who no longer seemed to be willing to protect home field advantage. McCloud had been off. The entire team seemed like something was bothering them. That wasn’t good. It was small consolation that the Storm had lost as well. At least the Skywalker Conference was as complicated as it ever was. Course, nothing could be as complicated as his marriage was right now. He wasn’t winning the father of the year award anytime soon.


“Daddy?”

“Yes?” Victor said.

“What’s a buckethead?”

Trish shot him a look.

“Nothing you need to know about. I was just joking around with Mommy,” Victor lied.

Great, now I’m lying to my kids, Victor thought as he pulled into the garage at home.

The kids ran on ahead of them wearing their Smugglers gear. Victor hung back as he helped his wife out of the speeder.

“We going to be okay?” Victor asked.

Trish gave a weak nod. “I want us to be.”

“I’m trying, Trish. I’m really trying,” Victor said.

Trish kissed him lightly on the lips and Victor knew it was to make peace. The hatchet wasn’t quite buried just yet.

“I know,” Trish replied as she headed into the house.

Victor looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

“What more do I have to do?” Victor wondered aloud and the garage only resounded with the engine ticking down to cool.

---

IC: Kaitlyn Vehn

Smugglers HQ, New Vertica

“We’re 4-2. I wouldn’t worry,” John said during his weekly call with Kaitlyn Vehn.

“I am worried. We need to make a statement in this conference and losing to the Mercs at home doesn’t help,” Kaitlyn growled.

“I’ll see what I can do on my end. I can only get so much from this team,” John replied.

“That may be the problem, John,” Kaitlyn said as she killed the conversation.

Kaitlyn sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Tover wasn’t coming back. John Huntington was like a few good coaches out there in that he could build a winning team but not seal the deal. A few of the players were expressing concern over the direction of the franchise, certain questionable play calls, motivations of the coaches, it wasn’t looking too good internally for the Smugglers. Kaitlyn knew something would have to change. Sure, they’d just lost a close battle to the hated Mercs, but the problems seemed to go deeper and Kaitlyn wondered of Huntington was losing the team.

Time to start planning for contingencies, Kaitlyn thought as her fingers worked her terminal keyboard. Her thoughts drifted from the Smugglers to local politics. Her education reform and the blasters for books program seemed to be going very well. But she needed something else. She needed one more legislative item to set her apart and cement her legacy. Something that nobody else could touch, something that would make Nar Shaddaa rise above its corrupt status.

What could that be?

Tag: Bardan_Jusik (bare minimum mention of your team)

 

IC: Geoff Copin
Shield Towers, O’phaz, Carratos

Geoff splashed some cold water on his face and looked into the mirror. His face was white and butterflies flew in his stomach. The All-star break was good for the team, but, the loss of Brian hit the team hard. Bestide took it especially hard. Her and Brian joined the team at the same time and had grown to trust each other. Jace worked very hard to get up to speed with the rest of the team but, Geoff worried that he had too much rust on him. Geoff dried his face and fixed his hair. He exited the ‘fresher to the laughter of his daughters.

“Girls,” Laura called out, “slow down you’re going to break something.” They apparently didn’t hear their mother, too wrapped up in chasing each other. Ira rounded the corner with Iris close behind. Geoff got out of the way just in time to see them rush past him. Iris had her sister cornered at the end of the hallway. Geoff turned his back and walked away as he heard Iris yell,

“Tag you’re it” Geoff took two quick steps forward to escape the bottleneck that was the hallway. The little girls ran past him again.

“Girls,” He said “listen to your mother. You’re going to hurt yourselves.” As if on cue Iris ran right into the couch stopping her forward movement. Thankfully her face hit the seat cushion and she got up without a scratch. “Ya’ see.” Laura rolled her eyes Geoff shrugged his shoulders. Geoff grabbed his bag and gave his wife a kiss. “See you later babe.”

“See ya’”

“All right girls come say bye to daddy.” He called out. They walked over a little slower than usual, tried out from the running. He crouched down and hugged them both and kissed their foreheads. “Wish my team luck.”

“Good luck daddy.” Ira said

“Made sure Leigh sores a goal, ok daddy.” Iris commanded.

“I’ll see what I can do.” With his goodbyes given Geoff headed out.

“Coach,” Bara said, back at his post, “think the new guy is going to work with your team?”

“He’s going to have to, got no other choice.” Geoff answered.

“Well, good luck.”

“I’m going to need it.”
________________________________________
Goss-Pell Memorial Stadium, O’pahz, Carratos

The pre-game press conference was predictable, questions about Brian, questions about Jace, and, questions about the team. In the locker room Geoff noticed Logan looking antsy. His leg was bouncing up and down, and his jaw was set. Geoff could understand, he had gone three games without a goal and had missed the All-star game. The coach knew that Logan wanted to be a star in the elite league and was ready to work hard to gain that title. Rime put a hand on the young forward’s shoulder and nodded. Everything in the locker room was still. A sort of calmness had settled in, the week long break gave some distance from the horrible losses and the incident with Brian was shocking yes, but nothing could be done about it. Words escaped Geoff. He noticed that his pre-game speeches hadn’t helped much.

“Team, we ready?” was all he said. Else looked up, a grin on her face.

“Aye, cap’n” She said in her best pirate voice. The locker room chuckled. Leigh reached over and mussed Else’s red hair.

The time came and the Pirates took to the field. The Packers had an imposing line up a Thakwaash, a Wookiee, two Nogri, and two Barabel. Geoff worried about Logan going against Dek, the Packers Yuzzem. The first few minutes nothing much happened. Rhodri and the other half backs did a good job of keeping the Packers from penetrating the offensive zone and Rime made some good plays towards the goal. Then Bestide missed an interception, on instinct she called out,

“Brian this one’s on you.” Jace looked a little confused and bit on Sturm’s juke. Luckily Qazi was able to stop it. The Quarren gave a scowl to the new corner back. Jace rubbed the back of his head.

“My bad,” he said. Geoff could blame him for the mistake, he was still getting used to playing on the left side of the field. Qazi kicked the ball to Rhodri. The Klatooinan passed around Abrams to Gaby. The Teaics had their hands full in the midfield dealing with the Nogri. She found some room and made a pass to Leigh. Cavanagh got around Harkness and made a quick pass up to Logan. Logan broke fast for the right corner of the goal box. He threw the ball hard. It bounced off Vesh’s chest but, Logan was able to collect the rebound and put the ball into the left side of the net. He punched his fist in the air, his standard celebration, and jogged back to the starting position. The Packers answered quickly with a goal from Stont but, the Pirates were unfazed. Rime set Logan up with a good cross pass and Logan followed through for his second goal.

The whistle blew ending the first half 12-12, four goals a side. The energy in the locker room at the half was completely different. The offense was energized and the defense was confident. Still there were some weaknesses, especially on the left side of the defense. Again Geoff kept his speech short.

“All right team we can do this, and Jace you’re doing a good job.” The Pirates returned to the field with the Scallywags belting out ‘Drunken Spacer’. The ref gave the signal and the second half started. Early on Sturm made a run towards the goal but, Bestide blocked his path. He made a quick dump pass to B. Van’nari. The bothan continued the charge to the goal until Jace leveled a hard tackle against him knocking the ball loose. Bestide scrambled to pick up the free ball. After taking possession she dished it out to the midfield. The play resulted in a goal by Vayan, the first of the second half. The second half played out much like the first, Pirates taking the lead by one goal and the Packers tying it up soon after. With less than ten minutes left the score was 18 all. Taskelor made the go ahead bar point followed quickly by a second point by Abrams. Logan lined up at the center and stared down the Packers. At the signal he passed back to Else and the offensive unit charged forward. Allanabuck blocked Else’s path, she made a pass to Seiji. The Iktochi forward out ran Lott on a bee line for the goal. Dek cheated over towards the left leaving him out of position enough for Seiji to throw the ball around the large hairy being to Manx. Logan beat the goalkeeper for his third goal.

“All right defense lock it down.” Geoff called out from the sideline. Rhodri nodded. The game ended 20-24 with Leigh making a last minute goal off an interception in the offensive zone. The crowd was on its feet when the final whistle blew. The team celebrated on the field, Geoff saw Bestide pat Jace on the shoulder and Rhodri slapped him on the back. The new defender had proven himself this game. After the handshakes Geoff went down into the locker room with the rest of the team. “Good game,” he said looking at this team. “We did very well today. Next week starts a road trip so enjoy home while you can we ship out to Ylesia in two days.” He noticed Rhodri grimacing at the mention of the planet.

“Is Brian coming with us?” Sylvanus asked. The locker room went silent.

“Most likely not,” The coach answered “though he is only suspended for two games by the league Schintt has final say over whether or not Brian plays. There’s also the fact he’s in jail right now awaiting trial.”

“You gonna’ to get him out?” Samia said from the corner of the room.


“Guys, I may have studied law but, I’m not licensed to practice on Carratos. Brian made a mistake and now he’s paying for it.” The jovial energy was sucked out of the room with Geoff last comment. With almost the whole team being from Carratos they all had a sense of comradery that bordered on familial. Geoff sighed “I’m sorry,” The team left not like winners with their heads held high, but, like attendants at a funeral.

TAG: Tim Battershell

 

IC: Ty Allin

​

I woke up several times that night. My head pounding. The third time I awoke I found myself unable to go back to sleep. My ears were ringing and my forehead was pulsing. I got up and took some more pain killers. About an hour later I finally drifted off again. The next time I awoke the sun was pouring in through the closed blinds. Startled I sat up quickly to check the chrono. The quick movement caused the pain in my head to intensify. I was unable to focus my vision, unable to read the time on the chrono. For a moment I panicked. Slowly the blurs around me became objects. I relaxed and read the time.

It was later than I usually got up. I began to get dressed, as I did I convinced myself that the pain in my head was less severe than it had been the day before. I also reminded myself that I was probably dehydrated and suffering from lack of nutrients in general since I had skipped dinner the night before. Once I ate breakfast the headache would subside, I knew it would. I made my way down to the second floor and found the left-overs from the meal Lucie had prepared the previous evening in the ice box. There was also a note from Lucie. She had gone in early to supervise training efforts of new theater employees and she had taken T.J. to daycare.

I sipped some juice as I waited for my meal to warm up. The throbbing intensified at first. Ice cold juice could cause a headache on its own after all. I massaged my temple as I waited for the food to finish heating. Pressure released just enough for me to have hope that the headache would go away once I ate. The headache didn’t go away, but it did get a lot less severe. When I finished eating I was feeling well enough to check the inbox on my data pad.

There was a message that practice would follow normal schedule for a home game this week, meaning that I would not have to report to the stadium today. My guess was that Trey would get the rookies and our bench players as much play time as possible over the next three weeks. The rest of us would practice and play but usually when a season was unsalvageable as ours seemed to be at this point the starters main goal was to stay healthy. That suited me just fine. As long as I got my minutes, I hoped to make a few more big plays before the season ended.

After eating I went back to bed for a while. When I got up my head was noticeably better. I played some games on the console I owned and then I attended Tomas’ Limmie game. It was the first game of his I had seen in nearly two weeks. I was surprised by the amount of family there to support him. Somehow it had slipped my mind that Spencer was in re-hab. Richard had gone back to Coruscant. Bat and his family were still on planet though. They were in attendance at the game as well as Mrs. Vigo, Andres and Justyne were there with their children and Lucie brought T.J.

Each time Tomas made contact with the ball there was an uproar of applause from our section. He earned our endorsement by making steals, assisting goals and with his fancy dribbling skills. We all had dinner at the Vigo household that night. Mrs. Vigo ordered in, she apologized for not having the time to cook. Which was completely unnecessary, we all understood how busy she must be.

Apparently the Sandskimmers were back in a tie for first place. Bat was hoping to visit his brother one on one in the morning before heading back to Tatooine for the game against the Red Wings next week. He felt it was important to be there since the game could possibly be for sole first place in the league. Everyone was in good spirits when Lucie and I headed home. Tomas’ win coupled with good food did a lot for lifting spirits.

The next morning as I was eating breakfast I got a call from Bat. “They won’t let me visit my brother,” he stated angrily. “Spencer refused to attend his first group therapy session yesterday and will not be allowed any visitors today.” Bat was furious. Furious with the center and his brother, he felt the center could make an exception considering he lived off world and he didn’t understand why his brother was refusing the therapy he needed. “You tell my brother I was turned away when they let you see him,” he requested. “Tell Spencer he better get his act together and get home so he can take care of my mother.”

I told Bat I would do my best and to travel safe. When I looked up from the call I saw the pain in Lucie’s eyes. “This is my fault,” I told her. “I should have won that game, would have given Spencer the confidence he needed to go to that therapy session.”

“Don’t be so conceited,” she countered. “The Starkillers loss has nothing to do with my brother’s recovery. He needs to make his own decision to work towards getting better.”

I hoped Lucie was right. It was best not to argue with her especially since the pain in my head still returned when I made quick movements or heard loud noises. I finished my breakfast and headed to practice. The mood in the locker room was somber. The usual banter and gossip was missing.

Sensing our mood Trey began to address the team. “No one in this locker room has permission to quit!” He said forcefully. “I know this season has been a disappointment so far, but it doesn’t have to end as one. What we can do and what we need to do is win out. Three games, three wins. There is still a chance for us to make the post season. We play for that chance. We play to end the season with a winning record. We can do that. We can salvage this season. Play for our fans give them a reason to be proud. Play for the passion of the game you developed as a youth. Play for your loved ones who sacrificed so much for you to be here playing this game today. Play for me, play for coach Zan, play for whatever reason that motivates you. Most of all play for yourselves, when you walk off the field after each practice, after each game, and at the end of the season walk off knowing you played your best.”

We had all stopped what we were doing. We had been intently listening to Trey. The locker room was silent. “Now hit the field.” Trey said after a moment’s pause. Everyone grabbed whatever articles of clothing they hadn’t yet put over the head or on their feet and quickly made their way out. Warm-ups lasted over an hour. “Basic conditioning is essential,” Trey bellowed as we sweated on field. “We play hard for 60 minutes against the Senators and we can beat them. I’m sure you have seen them tearing apart their opponents this season. And who can blame them? They are out for revenge. Last year they were the laughingstock of the league. Well no longer. They have proved themselves a force to be reckoned with. Knocking off their opponents one by one and we are next on their hit list. We won’t let them prevail. Will we Ty Allin?” He asked as he approached me where I was bobbling a bolo ball from knee to knee amongst my teammates who were performing the same drill all around me.

“No coach,” I replied back firmly.

Without warning he swooped in with his hand knocking the ball I had been controlling clear to the other side of the field. “Gotta try harder than that,” he declared. “Go get it.”

I ran quickly to retrieve the ball. Returned to my spot and continued with the drill. Trey walked through our ensemble attempting to knock more balls loose. Some players were able to keep their ball away from him. Others were forced to chase balls down. The second time he approached me I was ready. My vision was still a bit off and there was still a slight pain in the back of my head, but I had done this drill thousands of times. I knew by feel where the ball was located. I turned away from him, I put up my hand to block his, I picked up the pace to confuse him and he was unable to get my ball away from me. When he moved on to his next victim I sighed with relief.

Over the course of the day I noticed the pain in my head less and less. By the time I arrived home the pain was gone. I arrived home just in time to read T.J. a bedtime story with Lucie. Everything seemed to be back to normal until we sat down to eat. Lucie had spoken to the center. She wanted to visit her brother but apparently he had refused to attend his therapy session again today. She had spoken to her mother about the situation and her mother seemed to agree with the center. That Spencer needed to earn his right to have visitors. She had told Lucie to relax and allow for Spencer to make his own decisions. Her mother’s tough love approach frustrated Lucie.

As the week progressed the pain in my head was forgotten. Practice had become fun again. Jeffers and I even pranked Roselli by making her think we had put every last one of her practice uniforms in the ice bath one morning. She arrived at practice to an empty locker. Jeffers and I hid in a shower as she frantically searched the premises for her belongings. One by one she found them including the clothing in the ice cold water. Her eyes wide she dipped her hand in to retrieve them while Jeffers and I stifled our laughter.

Not knowing what else to do Lena began to ring out the articles. She was attempting to fan her shorts dry when I jumped out of the shower where we had been hiding. I nearly gave her a heart attack. I was laughing too hard to explain as I handed over the one remaining training uniform that we had not left in the ice water tub. “I’ll get you Ty Allin,” she said throwing the ice cold shorts at me as I quickly retreated.

On Spencer’s front nothing changed. The night before the game we all ended up back at the Vigo residence for dinner. Dinner became a heated argument between Lucie and her mother. “Why do you let them keep you from seeing your own son?” Lucie asked her mother angrily.

“When he’s ready Spencer will attend the therapy sessions. We will all be allowed to see him again soon,” her mother responded trying to remain calm.

“How long is that going to take? It’s been a week. He’s all alone in there, no family. He may be getting worse rather than better.”

“Sometimes before you can get better, you get worse.”

“Doesn’t his suffering bother you?” Lucie asked accusingly.

“Well it’s not like he’s the only one who’s suffered. Everyone in this family has been through a lot. He was the one who chose to turn to spice. He is the one who has to deal with the consequences of that decision.” Mrs. Vigo stated firmly.

“Oh, that’s rich,” Lucie fired back. “Coming from the woman who hid from her own problems for a year or more when her children needed her.”

We all sat there trying to eat and ignore the tears that were beginning to fall down Mrs. Vigo’s face. Finally she looked towards Trey. She reached under the table and clasped his hand for support. She held it tightly. “Perhaps it’s time I told you children why I fell into depression,” she began softly.

“It started a few years after Tomas was born. I knew he was my final baby. Your father had been encouraging me to take up my dance career again since I had Lucie and I was finally at the point in life when I felt comfortable going back.” The room had gotten very quiet. All eyes were on Mrs. Vigo. “I reconnected with an old agent. He promised to get me an audition. I went to his office for what I thought was going to be a meeting. It wasn’t. What that agent wanted was me. He took advantage of me,” she said looking at Lucie. I glanced at Tomas his eyes were wide. Justyne was looking at Andres, he leaned over to give her a kiss for support his hands firmly over Zoey’s ears.

“I was so ashamed. I had never been with any man but your father. I blamed myself. I didn’t want my daughter to suffer the same fate I had. When you left and I realized I had failed to protect you,” Mrs. Vigo faltered. After taking a moment to recollect herself she continued. “I should have gotten help immediately. It wasn’t until Justyne got pregnant that I sought out therapy. I finally realized that this family needed me and I could no longer hide in my room feeling sorry for myself. Think of all the things that I could have helped to prevent or the number of times I could have been there for you children if only I had gotten help sooner.”

“Spencer will snap out of this sooner and get the help he needs if he’s not in this house.” Lucie got up and went to give her mom a hug. Justyne followed suit. Tomas just sat staring at his food with visibly balled fists under the table. No one said much after that. Lucie and I took T.J. home as soon as we felt it was appropriate to leave.

“My mom told your coach her deepest secret,” Lucie said on the way home.

Perplexed and at a loss for words I nodded.

“She hadn’t told any of us kids, and yet some man she just started dating, he knew. Why do you think that is?”

“Trey is a special guy,” I said. “He’s easy to talk to,” suddenly I remembered lying to him about my head injury at the end of the last game. I felt awful. Trey was my closest friend and he depended on me to be honest with him. “Lucie when we get home there’s something I need to do.”

Lucie didn’t ask what I needed to do. The story her mother had told her still too fresh in her mind to pick up on the fact that anything could be bothering me. She took T.J. to bed while I called Trey. As soon as he answered I confessed.

“I should bench you tomorrow. Sit your ass and take away your captaincy,” he stated coldly when I finished. “This team is depending on you, the newer players look up to you and this is the example you set,” he shook his head his expression full of anger and disappointment. “Head injuries are not to be taken lightly. The quality of the life you lead after your playing career depends on the medical treatment you receive during your playing days. You received no treatment and you admit that you blacked out?”

I nodded.

“You are getting a full medical assessment first thing tomorrow morning. I can’t believe I am going to say this, but as long as everything checks out,” he paused for a long moment. “I am playing you.”

“Why?” I asked.

“We need you if we want to win this thing,” he said with a shrug. “If I suddenly bench you tonight the whole team will be lost when we take the field tomorrow. You struggle to get up once tomorrow and you will go straight to the locker room for a full evaluation. Never again will you get the benefit of the doubt from me. Playing you goes against everything I believe in. Prove to me I’m not making a mistake,” he said before abruptly cutting the line.

I reported to the facility early for my assessment. I passed with flying colors. I wasn’t sure why Trey was making such a big deal. I had hit my head hundreds of times in Limmie games. He didn’t speak to me before the game. There was hurt in his eyes when I made contact. I’d prove to him he was making the right decision. I would stop the Senator Offense single handed if I had to. Trey Till would not regret starting Ty Allin.

I took the field with full resolve. Trey had decided to move Dev back into the goal box. Zire was at right half and Roselli at center half. “Don’t you make me do any work back here,” Dev called out in garbled basic. He was imitating Kaat Stun who was busy warming a bench on Tatooine this weekend.

“Kiss this,” I responded as I pointed to my backside. I heard Dev’s laughter as I poised in ready position and waited for the action to begin.

Tag: Jedi Gunny

 

​

IC: Adenn Vizsla
Six Boroughs Stadium, Nar Shaddaa. The Game of Rivals

In his many years Vizsla had traveled all over the galaxy and seen and done a great many things. He liked to think of himself as a man who had seen and done it all, a man who could go through most any situation without being surprised. But whenever he came to Nar Shaddaa there was one thing he was never prepared for, the smell, and so he was thankful for the air filters provided in his buy'ce, which he would be wearing throughout his stay on this miserable world. Manda knew how he hated this place.

It was of course a feeling felt by many Mandalorians, a feeling truly brought about due to their ingrained hatred for the Smuggler Moon's aptly named meshgeroya squad. It was also a feeling that was returned in spades by the fans of that team, and so as the teams prepared for The Game of Rivals, there was more than enough hate to go around in the bright new stadium. If only that hatred could be harnessed, bottled and sold, it would be enough to turn any Jedi to Sith in the blink of an eye. Now that was an interesting notion he thought absent mindedly to himself as he watched the teams come out onto the field, though one not realistically worth pursuing.

How unfortunate.

He had of course made the road trip with the team. To put some much needed pressure on the coaching staff, as well as to make a statement that this was the game to be at this week. It really wasn't so much a rivalry, though the name declared it to be one, as it was a game between two teams and fanbases that truly hated one another. Hence there was no good natured passing back and forth of a trophy. This was a contest, decided on the field, not for bragging rights but instead to show the true superiority of one team over the other.

Last season the Mercs had been crushed in their annual game with the hated Smugglers, but had made up for it with a victory in the playoffs. A victory that had propelled the team to its second ever Galactic Cup finals appearance. Vizsla hung his head slightly. He hadn't been with the Mercs for that of course, and instead had played his own part in ensuring the Mercs lost that title game. The ring awarded him still sat in the pouch on his belt. It was a worthy personal trophy, but he wasn't one much for wearing jewelry. Still he could not part with it either, despite the wealth in credits it would garner him on the open market. He had worked hard for it. Besides, it was a small item, easily carried and disposed of if the need for liquid credits suddenly came upon him. Still, on this cesspool of a world he made sure that the pouch it was contained in was fully shut. He cared not one bit for the lawlessness here, though from what he had heard that had been chaning of late. Of course, that was irrelevant to today's "festivities. Today they had a game to play.

From his box he looked out over the stadium, using the magnification feature of his HUD to zoom in on the section reserved for Mercs fans. It wasn't a large section of course, but it was filled. Not an empty seat there, as it seemed to be for the rest of the stadium as well. That was no surprise. Due to their nomadic nature, Mandalorian fans seemed to make their presence known at most away games and there were "Mercs backers" clubs throughout the galaxy. It was something that he (and others in the front office) felt was their secret weapon in staying relevant in the league.

No matter how bad their record ever was, the Mercs drew fans to the games, even on the road. For a league that had lost teams in the past due to financial insolvency, the Mercs were a steady, if sometimes controversial, element. They could always be counted on, though Felp's had of course done her best to destroy that. Thankfully the aruetii woman was no longer an issue.

Thinking on aruetiise now, Vizsla noticed something strange about the Mercs fans he saw now. There were a large portion, perhaps fully half of them, that were not clad in beskar'gam. They were certainly fans of the Mercs, their logo featuring prominently on many of their shirts and even hats, but they were aruetiise. That was a new segment of the fanbase to which Vizsla had not yet become accustomed to, though he had been reminded of it during his appearance on the Rancor Pit earlier that week. A reminder that had caused him to go through some research from the team's marketing department.

Looking through the figures provided, Vizsla had seen the clear trend in demographic information regarding the Mercs expanding fanbase, but it surprised him to see it in person, especially here. They must not be locals he thought, not here. But perhaps they were from nearby systems, people who wanted to take in the greatest rivalry in all of sports. People like this man, obviously a fan of Lieznam,



were key to growing the Mercs brand even larger. The Mando'ade themselves, now owners of the team, could always be counted on to support the team. Their constant revenue stream would help the Mercs to retain free agents, improve the stadium and hire staff. New fans, aruetii fans, would only add to that ability. They would be more fickle though, and keeping them in the fold would require the team to continue winning, something that wasn't happening much yet this season.

That could all change here though, a win in this game would help to keep the aruetiise fans, and well as possibly propel the team going forward this season. The Skywalker Conference, as it usually was, was in flux, and any team had a legitimate shot at the playoffs, beating each other up week after week as it seemed they always did. This week was to be no different.

The game began, and right from the get go it lived up to expectations. There were hard hits and blood. As usual the refs stood back and let these two heavy weights have at one another. They knew better than to stand in the way. Vizsla was honestly surprised that by the end of the first half none of the Mercs had been forced from the game with injury, though this wasn't the sort of game that any true player of the game would shy away from due to sore muscles or even sprained ligaments. This was a game that would require far more than that.

Players on both sides took their shots, and absorbed their hits without pause, without complaint. It simply spurred them all to go out there and hit even harder. In the end though the Mercs pulled away. Without Lieznam on the field, the offense flowed better, though his replacement was not much more than a place filler. Daryc though was a spectacle. With the offense flowing through him the Mercs put up a respectable number of points, though there was still room for improvement. Combined with the good play of Thorn between the pipes it enabled the Mercs to come home with a win, and it was a good thing too. The win allowed them to keep pace with the other teams fighting for the third playoff spot, though with three games to go who would play then and who would be playing in the postseason and who would be staying at home watching was anyone's guess. Just another season n the Skywalker conference, and Vizsla wouldn't have it any other way.

TAG: No one.