Star Wars OPEN Elite League Limmie

GM APPROVED

Character Sheet
Name: Aruetyc Aran
Species: Presumably Human
Gender: Masculine Persona
Birth Year: Unknown
Physical appearance:

Homeworld: Assumed to be Mandalore
Relation to Team: Anonymous Holonet Linkcast Personality
Personality:
Appearing seemingly overnight after the Monarchs Galactic Cup season, an anonymous holonet blogger started producing his own opinion/editorial linkcast. Continuing to use the pseudonym Aruetyc Aran, the “Not-Mandalorian” Guard, he took to the net after the conclusion of each ELL Week and shared his thoughts on the past week’s Monarchs match. Not only would he pontificate about the highlights and lowlights of the Monarchs, but he also started commentating on the politics of Rydonni Prime. His outspoken distain for the Governor-General and his Ministers has spurred a global manhunt for the linkcast personality.

Hiding behind his pseudonym and a heavily modulated vocabulator, he continues to speak with almost absolute anonymity. Now that the Monarchs have failed to return to the postseason for the second time in three years and the decaying socio-economic landscape of Rydonni Prime, his fanbase continues to swell.

 

IC: Liann Torey
Senator HQ, Draft Night

“The ad campaign is ready to go. We just need the name of the player we’re going to be featuring,” Reha said. “That is, if there is a player that we will feature. You never know if the GM will trade that pick.”

“It’s the risk we run in this job,” Liann said. The promotions staff was waiting around to see who the Senators would take at #5. They could only launch their new campaign when the first-round pick came in. Although the pick probably wouldn’t be a ground-shattering selection, those who were savvy in promotions knew that it presented an excellent opportunity to make some ground. After all, the marketing team in theory could put together a media blitz regarding the draft pick, but Liann had her fingers in part of that pie, and the marketing team was silent. Promotions was to handle this part of the equation; marketing was more worried about getting ready for the next season and enticing season ticket holders to renew. It wasn’t as hard a job as in other years when the team was coming off lackluster performances, but it was never easy. Promotions was to see that the Draft-related gear would be released to stores soon after the Draft so that eager fans could get their new jersey with the name of the Draft pick on them.

“I wish they would just key us in on their intel,” Reha said, shaking her head. “It would make our job so much easier.”

“Doesn’t work that way,” Liann said, taking another sip of her caf. LJ wanted to come to the office to see what his mother did for a living, but she refused. He had to go to bed at a decent time for school the next day, and that was not negotiable. Besides, she needed to think about what was going to happen here. It would likely require a quick response, especially if something went wrong. And that was usually the case. Promotions was a hard job to control, even if you already had a year of it under your belt. It didn’t quite make night-and-day sense like marketing. It was even more about what beings wanted to see and what they wanted to be handed when they showed up to the stadium for a game. Promotional days were wildly popular, almost to a fault. It meant a major logistical nightmare that had to be overcome.

Gared Joff went off the board first to Bakura, the golden boy staying on his home planet. Of course, it also meant that the team was likely now to take a player with a longer last name. There was only so much space on the back of a jersey for a surname, and “Joff” would have been easy to put on there. There weren’t any Wookiees on the HSN Board, but there was a Chiss goalie who had a long name. Liann hoped that the Senators wouldn’t take her, because that would drive the campaign crazy. Trying to pronounce that would likely prove difficult, and being unable to pull it off would likely irk some viewers. One never knew how many in the Chiss Ascendency might be Senator fans, and there was absolutely no need to confuse or enrage them by mispronouncing the name of their kin. That was PR 101: Not Screw Up. Or, if you did, make sure it was construed as an accident and try to move forward without talking about it. There was nothing like a good cover-up on such a mistake.

Ric Grimes went to the Smugglers, a corner back from VCU also staying home. Selex, from the Bak10, and another corner, went to Ralltiir at #3, putting Hapes on the clock. During these picks, Liann was anxiously awaiting word from the Draft hall regarding who would be taken by the team. They had stayed silent thus far on their intentions, which either meant they were being tight-lipped or they didn’t know yet who they would take. And it wasn’t exactly a clear picture. There were several ways the Senators could go in this Draft, given all the free agents they had lost. And then there was the Gamble and Leed situation, two star free agents wondering if they were better off leaving the Capital for greener pastures. Even Liann likely couldn’t spin things to look good in that instance.

Rhose Ersa was the pick made by Hapes, a midfielder to fill a need. That allowed the Senators to be on the clock for their first of two picks in the Draft. The other pick was a late third-rounder that would likely be ignored by the majority of media outlets. So all the chips would have to go in on this pick.

“Come on, get back to us,” Liann said, staring at her communicator. She needed to get word at some point so that she could move forward. The longer she was forced to wait, the harder this would be, and the more money they could potentially lose. Promotions relied on timeliness; run over the time budget, and that was money lost to failed opportunity. They had to launch this thing as soon as the pick was made, so the silence was keeping her on edge.

Several minutes passed as the team was obviously deliberating on who to take, and every passing minute caused Liann’s blood pressure to rise. She needed that one thing, just a few words, to get this whole thing going. There were going to be Holoboards on the sides of the expressways, t-shirts, jerseys, and all sorts of merchandise of the new pick. But it all started with a selection.

And then a call came in. Unfortunately, it was LJ. He wanted to know who the pick was. Liann, in no uncertain terms, had to tell her son to go to bed as soon as the pick was made. “Aw, mom!” LJ pouted.

“You heard me,” Liann said. “Now put this communicator down. I need this line open.”

Just as LJ cut his connection, the call Liann had been anxiously awaiting came in. It was just a few words, but Liann was able to get the whole ball rolling a minute early.

“Start the presses!” she exclaimed to the staff present. “We’re going to have a busy night ahead of us.”

As the templates started going into production, the Senators announced their pick at the Draft. Leia Adama, the daughter of Miners legend Declan Adama, was to announce the pick. “With the fifth overall selection in the Draft, the Coruscant Senators select Freya Stormhelm, Forward from Druckenwell Technical University.”


By the next day, Stormhelm’s face was plastered all over Coruscant media, and the Promotions department was in full swing as they got the hype machine going. Liann had gotten very little sleep the night before, but she was determined to keep things running smoothly.

TAG: CPL_Macja for the next four

 

“Su cuy’gar, Vode! It is the night of the 284 Elite League Draft and I’m here to present you with a special live linkcast. Coming to you once again from my Ranov'la Ramika'yaim I will continue to give it to you poodoo free. Ori’haat. Once the Monarchs have their picks ready to be announced I will switch the audio over to HSN Limmie Tonight so we can all hear them straight from the mouth of Mr. Crowley.

“With the end of another long winter comes the beginning of yet another Elite League Meshgeroya season. Contract negotiations, free agent signings, and draft picks being made, all of the top tier teams’ GMs are shaping their rosters for a Galactic Cup run. For the Monarchs that means Romo Benedict Crowley and Julla Ehennifer start turning and burning.

“When it was announced that defensive back Dalton Ward was granted his walking papers, who would replace him was the question on everyone’s mind. But with the releasing of Bella Starr, Lana Ping, Drista Konnenwirth, and Tanyo Oragam it became abundantly clear that Raymar Dolphmen would be the chosen one. Toyo Sikota has never played any other position than Center Half Back and Dolphmen has experience all over the defensive back field.

“Looking at what remains of the Byblos Red Wings’ roster, they are set in the skills positions of Keeper and Midfield. But at Forward and Back they are severely wanting, three players for twelve positions. Luckily the dynamic duo of Crowley and Ehennifer somehow convinced the Dragon to part with his two picks. It is hard for me to believe that the Dragon would willingly give the Monarchs four straight picks, three of them in the first round, on purpose. They must have inadvertently neglected to present him with all of the details before agreeing to the deal.

“I can hear some of you shouting at your datapads right now, ‘But Aruetyc, couldn’t the very first pick of the draft have helped them out more? Perhaps they could find the replacement they need in the backfield? Or perhaps a high scoring forward to re-energize the offense?’ My answer, in their current predicament, will always be quantity over quality. The Red Wings, and therefore by the transitive property the Monarchs, need players. They don’t need some prima donna coming in to the dressing room causing a bunch of unneeded drama. What they need are solid performers, who won’t cost them a king’s ransom and won’t have bruised egos by spending some time in the Futures League.

“And it looks like we won’t have to speculate any longer as GM Romo Benedict Crowley III is making his way to the podium.”



The audio feed switches over to the HSN Limmie Tonight’s coverage of the draft.

“…and here is the Monarchs’ GM to announce their first, second, third, and fourth picks of the draft.”

Crowley did not hesitate with naming the newest additions to the Monarchs’ organization.

“With the sixth overall selection in the Draft, the Rydonni Prime Monarchs select Lai’anya, Midfielder from the University of Zeltros.”

“With the seventh overall selection in the Draft, the Rydonni Prime Monarchs select Margaret Rhee, Midfielder from the Imperial College of Bastion.”

“With the eighth overall selection in the Draft, the Rydonni Prime Monarchs select Jeremy Townsel, Corner Back from VCU.”

This pick concluded the First Round of the Draft, but Crowley continued on with his fourth consecutive selection.

“With the ninth overall selection in the Draft, the Rydonni Prime Monarchs select Jynn Takana, Forward from VCU.”



The audio feed once again switched back to Aruetyc Aran’s live broadcast.

“Well there you have it folks, yet another baffling set of picks. Two midfielders from Zeltros to add to the Hapan, Zeltron, Chiss, and Agamarian midfielders we already have. At least he wised up and took a Back and a Forward from the same collegiate squad. Let’s just hope the neither one of them dated and dumped the other while in college.

“Now that the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers are on the clock my time for this live stream has run out. I will return to my regularly scheduled time with my analysis of the Monarchs’ fifth and final selection in the draft. Until next time…

“Ret’urcye mhi!”



TAG: Vehn

 

IC: Vera Grames
Colonial Hall
Salis D'aar, Bakura

"And we're back," Addison said as the holographic board switched and changed around in anticipation of their second round pick.

"Best player available?" Mylessa said.

"Agreed," came a chorus of voices from the coaching staff.

"Thoughts?" Addison asked.

Vera sat up. This was the moment where they could add another player that could really make an impact. Second round picks were often times the place where teams could make their money. The contracts they had to pay out were less and the talent drop off from the first round, the top tier, wasn't too significant. These were the players that could pay dividends in years to come. The meat of the roster.

"There's one player we've been targeting for awhile," Shay Dionne said.

"She's good," Mylessa admitted.

"Strong enough to provide depth should anything unfortunate happen," Autumn Graves added.

"Then we're in agreement," Addison said.

"In agreement about what?" Vera asked. She had no idea who they were talking about.

Mylessa and Addison exchanged a knowing look. Addison turned to Vera and said, "Liz Wilder, Goalkeeper, Coruscant Polytechnic University."

Vera's eyes went wide with excitement.

---

A few minutes later...



Vera was back on stage waving again to Smuggler fans throughout the hall. She leaned into the microphone and replied, "With the tenth pick of the 284 Elite League Draft, the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers select, Liz Wilder, goalkeeper, Coruscant Polytechnic University!!!"



Vera shook Liz's hand while she posed for the holocameras with her jersey. Vera couldn't believe Liz had dropped to them. The Smugglers had been able to pick best player available and potentially fill a need as incumbent starter Charlie Blackwood had struggled at times last year trying to support a faltering defense.

"So glad you are part of the team," Vera said as she guided Liz toward backstage. "Tell me one thing. Are you the Liz Wilder?"

"What do you mean?" Liz asked.

"You know," Vera said, "the great romance novelist?"

Liz blushed a bit and nodded her head, "Okay, yes, so I wrote a few good stories that got some great press."

"I loved your book, what was that called, oh yeah," Vera said remembering, "Romancing the Jaded Emerald of Solost. I cried at the end, I really did."

"Thanks," Liz replied, "I just wrote it on a lark one day. The sales really helped pay my way through university."

"Well if you're half as good a limmie player as you are a writer we'll be in good shape," Vera said with a smile as they exited stage left.

Tag: Runjedirun

 

IC: Bat Vigo

Thank goodness the children had finally gone to bed. My heart began to pound inside my chest as the second round began. There was a true shortage of defensive players to choose from this season. Already my mother had signed another Full Forward in Gary Zonka. What the hell had she been thinking? I’m the Full Forward. The media was a buzz with who would play the position on opening day. Coach Jul promises an open competition. I don’t like it. Not one bit. I’m working out every day. I’ve built a goal in the back yard and have my younger brother stop by as often as possible to tend it for me. When I’m lucky a teammate or my brother-in-law, when I’m desperate I make Serene tend the goal. Scary thing is she gets in front of some of them. I begin to see potential in a girl who’s only 6. Then she breaks a nail and runs inside to her mother tearing down all the pride I’d just built in her.

There’s a wild card in this draft. Another Full Forward. Another hometown kid that will bring a lot of profit to the organization in jersey sales and other marketing promotions if he can play. Much like me he didn’t go to University. He’s been working at the Supermarket where I was earlier today stocking shelves. He’s valued there for being able to stock the top shelves without a ladder. On the Limmie field it’s rumored he can pass, dribble, tackle and score. All we need is another sithdamned Full Forward.

Coach Jul thinks he’d be a good Corner or that maybe he could play Half Forward. I don’t want him on our team. There are only three defenders left on the board. None of them good enough to waste a second round draft pick on. I’m kriffed and I know it. I’ll just have to outplay this stock boy in training camp. I’ll make sure he’s breathing sand through is nose on Tatooine. I had to start there and he should too. Zonka can be my corner. He’s won a championship. We’ve discussed it. I had to welcome him to the team.

I turn the volume down when my mother makes the 11th pick. I wave both middle fingers in the air as Kiirt Warner takes the jersey from my mother with a goofy grin plastered on his face. When training camp starts he’ll be the first guy I tackle to the ground. Smash his face into the turf, rough him up. That’s what playing Limmie is. Beating up your opponents. Once he’s learned his place I’ll knock him down a few more times. To make sure he doesn’t forget it.

I crack my knuckles loudly and turn up the volume again so I can hear who goes with the 12th pick.

Tag: jcgoble3

 

IC: Tendra Nalo
Location: Colonial Hall, Salis D’aar, Bakura
Time: Draft night

"They're already working on a possible deal for that pick," Leota reported.

"What about their third-rounder?" inquired a scout.

"Peoly is a bit too much for a late third-rounder, I think. However, they also said they're only looking for future picks at this point."

"I suppose we can just move them to reserves."

"Enough talking," Tendra said. "We have sixty seconds left on the clock. Are we sticking with the plan or not?"

Leota spent five long seconds looking at the draft board. "Go for it."

Tendra sprinted to the main hall and took the stage with a #2 C-Bucs jersey. "With the twelfth pick in the 284 Elite League Limmie Draft, the Hapes Consortium Buccaneers select... Ganan S. Meril, right half forward, University of Euceron!"

"The Bakura Miners are now on the clock."

TAG: Trieste and my anonymous potential trade partner

 

IC: Tamon Kutel
Colonial Hall, Salis D'aar, Bakura

It had been a long run of picks since the Miners had last had a selection--and it was actually earlier than they should have this season. Thanks to swinging a deal during last year's draft with Coruscant, the Miners had a pick two ahead of their position as determined by last season's results. In fact, this was their first pick out of three in the next five draft picks. Not exactly a run to rival Rydonni Prime, but it was pretty darn good.

As the top ranked player in the draft in HSN's opinion, Ganan S. Meril, came off the board that left the Miners facing a board depleted of all but three defenders, one goalkeeper, and two midfielders. There were a whole lot of forwards left including college award winners. The former defender Kutel thought that was a good thing. Teams were valuing defense this year. As they should.

Tamon turned his camera on the Miners' draft table. Saoirse Sloan was crunching numbers, her eyes darting across her datapad's screen, making comments to her boss that he couldn't hear from this distance. Cundertol....just sat there. Eyes open, fingers arched. Tamon couldn't even tell if he was listening to Sloan. He was just...looking. Straight ahead. His eyes didn't move. Was he even looking at anything? Or was his mind elsewhere, computing permutations? Was he trying to figure out what the other teams would do, what Mando'ade would do with its next pick, its first pick in this draft, before he got to choose again? Was he trying to figure out if Hapes was going to find a way to choose every Meril through some series of trades and figure out if it was worth it to thwart the Bucs' plans? Was Cundertol playing dejarik or was he playing three dimensional chess? Was he even playing a game that the rest of the galaxy could understand?

Tamon didn't know the answer to any of these questions. He just captured them in a single image.



Cundertol sprang out of his seat and went up to the podium. "With the thirteenth pick of the 284 draft...the luckiest pick of the draft," Cundertol added, "the Bakura Miners select Daryyl Dixun, Forward, University of Kashyyyk."

The human who had dared to play with Wookiees and Trandoshans in the KAAC and had gone all the way to the college semifinal came forward to accept his jersey and pose with the general manager as the Miner fans cheered. Dixun almost certainly had the inside track on Halar'ona'nurodo's half forward spot...but there were still three picks to go.

"The Mando'ade Mercs--"

"Booooooooooooooooooooo!" went the Miner fans, who clearly wanted to show the Merc fans who had repeatedly booed their team over the years what they thought of that.

"--are on the clock," Cundertol finished.

TAG: Bardan_Jusik jcgoble3

 

GM Post
Colonial Hall, Salis D'aar, Bakura

Instead of Adenn Vizsla stepping onto the stage, it was Fenrir Lokensgaard. "Gentlebeings," Lokensgaard said in a singsong voice that could only mean one thing.

"We have a trade.

"The Mando'ade Mercs--"

"Boooooooooooooooooo!"

"--trade the 14th overall pick in the 284 draft to the Ralltiir Starkillers for the Starkillers' second round selection in the 285 ELL Draft.

"Accordingly, the Ralltiir Starkillers are now on the clock."

TAG: Bardan_Jusik Runjedirun

 

IC: Bat Vigo


After the pick is made I see an incoming call from my mother. She has some nerve. She wants to smooth this over now. I have to pick up and I have to be nice. When the time comes for her to walk away from all this I want my share. If possible I want to be in her seat. Not anytime soon. I actually like playing. That’s why I’m so upset, but someday when I’m much older I’m going to be responsible for building a Championship team.

“We had to take him,” my mother says as soon as her face appears on my data pad. “He’s good for PR. Before you get all upset we’ve been discussing picking up another player in this round.”

She called me for advice, or at least to make me think that I’m getting a say in this draft. Clever she is trying to calm me down. At least she considers me valuable enough to put this call through. She may have already made a trade. She just wants me to feel like I was a part of it. “Who’s making the offer?” I ask.

“Not your favorite team,” my mother warns. “Mando’ade.” She pauses to let that sink in. My father made a trade with the Mercs once. What was left was a broken marriage and a boy named after my father. He lived on Corellia now with his grandparents. My sister was too busy to be bothered to raise her own kids.

“What do they want?” I asked pushing the thoughts away.

“We put several players on the table, but they seem more interested in next year’s second round pick.”

“Give it to them,” I say. Maybe she already had. Maybe this call is just to make me think that I matter. Giving away next year’s pick gives me more incentive to win. The more we win the lower pick we have to trade. It was a gamble for the Mercs and us. We could be giving up the first round of the 2nd draft or the last. “You are taking the fullback?” I ask.

She nods. “Coach says he needs some development,” my mom says cautiously.

“Just as long as you don’t take any more forwards,” I say leaning back into the sofa.

My mom, because she’s my mom says something like “I love you sweetie,” as she signs off.

After the Miners make their pick the commissioner takes the stage. My mom did the right thing to call. It’s good I’m not surprised. Abraham Dorf takes the jersey from my mother. He likely won’t see the field this year, but he looks like a Limmie player. His biceps protruding out from under his shirt. My mom’s call has worked. I’m calmer now. Everyone has gone to bed. It’s just me in the house. I really wish I had an ale. I don’t have any alcohol in the house. I promised my wife I wouldn’t drink after my stint in jail for drunk speeder flying a few years back. So I sit, thirsty and once the craving for alcohol begins to wear off I start craving a woman.

Tag Trieste

 

IC: Tamon Kutel
Colonial Hall, Salis D'aar, Bakura

Tamon watched as the lily white Cundertol's face blanched as the Mando'ade-Ralltiir draft pick swap was announced. He didn't think the Eriaduan could get any whiter. Clearly, this was one possibility he had not foreseen and the orchestration of his draft picks was now at risk. What had he thought the Mercs weren't going to do that he thought the Starkillers were?

Through the lens of his camera he observed the tag team of Sloan and Cundertol at the draft table. The brow of the general manager was knitted while that of his junior was smooth. Sloan leaned over and said something to the Eriaduan with a smile. He barely even reacted. Then the Ralltiir pick came in and Sloan's demeanor flipped as if someone had thrown a switch. She was serious and focused. Kutel had an idea he knew why Cundertol had selected her to be his number two.

When the Ralltiir pick of full back Dorf came down, a look of profound relief crossed Quinn's face. Tamon snapped away. The general manager sprung out of his chair to head up to the stage the moment that Madelyne Vigo and Abraham were done with their pictures. Whatever plan the Miners front office had, Ralltiir hadn't disrupted it.

"With the fifteenth pick in the 284 Draft, the Bakura Miners select, from the University of Evenvale, half back, Sid Qwan."

"Who said go local was dead?" Tamon said to himself as he took photos of the Ortolan accepting his jersey. The Miners now had two Bak10 players in this draft. If Carratos could win a Cup drafting almost all Carratosian talent, then couldn't the Miners draft Bakuran players to do the same? One could hope.

When the photo op was done, Tamon went through his holos through the screen on his camera. "Damn," Tamon said as he found he'd missed the moment of relief on Cundertol's face. He'd had a feeling it had slipped through before he could grab it. What he did have, however, was a picture that showed why you didn't mess with Hapan women.



Saoirse Sloan, it seemed, was not a being to be trifled with.

"The Rydonni Prime Monarchs are now on the clock."

TAG: CPL_Macja

 

GM Post

An overdue friendly for the Monarchs.

Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Loronar Colonials (8-19)

TAG: CPL_Macja

 

GM Post
Colonial Hall, Salis D'aar, Bakura

"With the sixteenth pick in the 284 Draft, the Bakura Miners select Leia Vargaras, Forward, New Alderaan," the commissioner announced.

"The Bakura Miners are now on the clock."

TAG: CPL_Macja

 

IC: Tamon Kutel
Colonial Hall, Salis D'aar, Bakura

"With the seventeenth pick in the 284 Draft, the Bakura Miners select Burrnsbacca, midfielder, Gargarrump University."

"Oh come on Quinn," Tamon muttered. "Off the board when there are still two great midfielders on the b--oh hello."

Tamon started snapping away. Now he had an idea of why the Mighty Quinn had selected this unheralded player.



"The Ralltiir Starkillers are now on the clock."

TAG: Runjedirun

 

IC: Bat Vigo


It soon becomes apparent that the only female I’ll be holding on this night is my newborn daughter. She wakes up screaming. I run upstairs and fetch her telling Georgia to get some sleep. I warm up some milk and sit back down to watch the rest of the draft.

It isn’t long before my mother takes the stage for the final time of the evening. “With the 18th pick of the 284 Elite League Limmie draft the Ralltiir Starkillers welcome Tyrone Cason, Midfielder from UC Bella Vistal.” It’s a solid choice. We need to start developing some young midfielders on Tatooine. There’s only four picks left, but from the wide awake look on my daughter’s face it doesn’t look like I’ll be going to bed anytime soon. I get up to look for that Kamino Rainforest Caf.

Tag jcgoble3

 

IC: Tendra Nalo
Location: Colonial Hall, Salis D’aar, Bakura
Time: Draft night

"I left a message for him about it," said Leota.

"Okay, so let's pick someone," a scout said. "We need a center half forward, and Ganan's strength is the right side. He could fill in center if needed, but I'd rather he replace Peoly. Who's available?"

"Shayne and... Dellwag... er, Deltag... er, the kid from Ralltiir are the top two," another scout said. "The former is more of a utility forward, whereas the latter is specifically a half forward."

"I'd rather have someone who specializes in a single position, not a whole line, here," Leota said. "If we can get that without too much drop in talent, that is."

"Well Ganan's brothers are still on the board. One is a center half, and he's ranked #3. Add the synergy from two kids who have grown up together and probably played together from the first time they kicked a bolo-ball..."

"What's that kid's name?"

"Ganan."

"No, that's the guy we drafted last round. What's the name of the center half forward?"

"Like I said, Ganan."

"Come on, they have to have different names."

"Nope, all three have the same first name. Different middle initials, though."

Leota put her head in her hands. "What were their parents thinking when they were born?"

"I don't know, but probably not that their kids with the same name would become professional bolo-ball players."

"For the last time, Staf, it's 'limmie'. Not that unoriginal term used in the Rim. There's no reason for a sport to simply be named after the ball it uses."

"I say to-pay-to, you say to-pah-to."

"Staf, I swear—"

"I hate to break up this amusing side discussion," Tendra interjected, "but are we going to pick or not?"

"Well, I'm waiting to hear back from the other guy," Leota said. "Whether I get that pick or not could change how I use this pick."

"Why does it matter?" Staf asked. "Make the best pick now, and treat the extra pick as a bonus if it comes in."

"You have a lot to learn about drafting, young lady."

"Excuse me? Did you just insult me?"

As the resulting argument went on, no one in the room seemed to notice that their clock had hit zero. Back in the main hall, the commissioner took to the podium. "The Coruscant Senators are now on the clock. The Hapes Consortium Buccaneers retain their pick and may make it at any time."

TAG: Jedi Gunny and my anonymous trade partner

OOC: Apologies to Trieste for borrowing the commissioner at the end. I figured for something that simple, it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission.

 

GM Post
Colonial Hall, Salis D'aar, Bakura

Before Coruscant could make that pick, the Commissioner was back at the podium.

"Gentlebeings, we have a trade," he announced. "The Mando'ade Mercs trade the twenty-first overall selection in the 284 draft to the Hapes Consortium Buccaneers in exchange for the Buccaneers' third round selection in 285.

"The Coruscant Senators remain on the clock."

They did, but now the race was on for someone to make their pick first.

TAG: jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny

 

IC: Liann Torey

“With the . . . what is it, nineteenth . . . pick?” Leia Adama said on stage, obviously confused by what was going on with Hapes’ decision to not make a pick in the allotted time. “Anyways, the Coruscant Senators select ‘Mich . . . Michon . . . Michonne, Goalkeeper from the University of Csilla.”

Liann could only groan. The team captain had mispronounced the name of a Csillan player, especially the team captain of the Galactic Champion collegiate squad. That wouldn’t look good to the fans back in the Ascendency, who otherwise were undoubtedly excited to see their goalie be taken in the Draft, albeit in the middle of the third round. It was a value pick, that was for sure, and it gave rise to a theory that the Senators were willing to move on from Jayla Leed if the goalie kept waffling on her interest in returning in free agency. However, the pool of potential replacements was less than scary, with perennial underdog yet underwhelming Oola Ban the favorite to take over against the likes of fellow undrafted free agent Leb Dameron, a major Draft bust in Sarah Connor, and now a third-round rookie. Plenty would have to be determined during the remainder of the offseason before a starter could be named in between the pipes.

And that meant promoting whoever would end up in that position. For all Liann knew, the promotional items for the next season could include a bobblehead or other collectible featuring the new Chiss goalie.

“Hapes is still on the clock, as is . . . Hapes,” Adama said before leaving the stage. Obviously the whole situation regarding the C-Bucs missing their pick had completely blindsided her, and she had been less than ready this time around. That wouldn’t look good, Liann mused. That wouldn’t look good at all.


TAG: jcgoble3

 

IC: Tendra Nalo
Location: Colonial Hall, Salis D’aar, Bakura
Time: Draft night

The argument stopped and Tendra listened as Leota spoke on the comlink. "Yes? ...Wonderful. ...Absolutely. Thanks for doing business with us. I appreciate it. ...huh? Yes, I'm aware of that. Thanks anyway. ...Goodbye." She put the comlink down. "We have the Mercs' third-rounder."

The commissioner wasted no time in announcing the trade. "The Mando'ade Mercs trade the twenty-first overall selection in the 284 draft to the Hapes Consortium Buccaneers in exchange for the Buccaneers' third round selection in 285. The Coruscant Senators remain on the clock."

"Wait, the Senators are on the clock?" Tendra asked out loud. "Did we make a pick?"

Leota turned to her team captain. "You also have a lot to learn about drafting, young lady."

"Really? Teach me then. Because I cannot figure out in what textbook it says to let your clock run out."

Stef piped up. "But let's get a pick in before the Senators do. Unless you intend to let them go first, in which case you're crazy."

Leota leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up on the table. "I absolutely intend to do that, and that is why you have much to learn. Can anyone in this room explain why I would want to wait on the trade and let the Senators go first?" There was silence and a general shaking of heads. "No? Then let me explain.

"We had one pick remaining. Two only if the trade went through, which it has. But that then leaves the Senators between our two picks. We talked about taking Ganan M., the center half forward, and how well he would mesh with his brother on the right side. But I honestly don't think putting two of the Merils together is that much of an advantage, so much so that it's worth reaching past Shayne and the kid from Ralltiir, however you pronounce his name. Getting all three, on the other hand, would be a huge advantage, enough so that I think it's worth reaching all the way to the bottom of the rankings for Ganan C. at left half.

"That, therefore, means that it's not worth getting one of the remaining Merils unless we can get both. Yet the Merils, put together, are our best option. Thus, we needed to wait on the trade to be accepted to know that we'd have two picks, because I don't want to chance missing Ganan C. in free agency. But with the trade accepted, if we pick now before Coruscant does, we run the risk of losing the combo to their pick. Knowing that we've taken two of the triplets, guess how many teams would be willing to waste a third-round pick to deny us the third? I'd guess quite a few.

"So we wait. If Coruscant takes one of the Merils, then it's not worth taking the other, and we'll use the picks on other players. Probably Shayne and a value pick. But if they don't, then we can take Ganan M. at number twenty, then immediately grab Ganan C. at number twenty-one before anyone has a chance to steal him from us."

There was slience in the room for a moment, as Tendra realized that her jaw was hanging open in amazement. She quickly snapped it closed.

Staf broke the silence. "That is indeed absolutely crazy, and yet it's practically guaranteed to work. Wow."

Tendra couldn't help but laugh a little. "The only winning move for Coruscant here is to copy our move of letting the clock expire."

Leota grinned and put her feet down. "Actually, if they do that, we still win, because the trade will put us back on the clock for pick number twenty-one. And because of that, we can then submit both picks simultaneously without the Senators having a chance to insert theirs between them. So it's not just practically guaranteed to work. It's completely guaranteed to work. Or to put it in holochess terms, we have mate in one with Coruscant to move. And it looks like they're moving now."

All eyes in the room turned to the holoscreen. “With the . . . what is it, nineteenth . . . pick? Anyways, the Coruscant Senators select ‘Mich . . . Michon . . . Michonne, Goalkeeper from the University of Csilla.”

"Wait, who is that?" Tendra asked.

"I don't know and I don't care," Leota responded. "All I care about is that it's not Ganan something." She quickly scribbled on two draft pick cards and handed them to Tendra. "You know what to do."

Tendra took to the stage. "With what is now the twentieth pick in the 284 Elite League Draft, the Hapes Consortium Buccaneers select Ganan M. Meril, center half forward, University of Euceron. And with the twenty-first pick in the 284 Elite League Draft, the Hapes Consortium Buccaneers select Ganan C. Meril, left half forward, University of Euceron."

They had done it. The C-Bucs had taken the entire Meril clan in one draft. This was a major coup.

"The Bakura Miners are now on the clock for the final pick of this year's draft."

TAG: Trieste

 

IC: Tamon Kutel
Colonial Hall, Salis D'aar, Bakura

"Well I'll be," Tamon said as the last two Merils got selected by the Buccaneers. If Leota Avoy won the Grames Award in the next few seasons, this draft was going to be why. Kutel shot a look at Cundertol. Not even the Smug Dragon could have pulled that off. Taking all three triplets in one draft was a coup of epic proportions. The Bucs now had an entire half forward line that had been playing together not just in college, but for life. The Patriots had ridden the Sedin Twins in 247 to a Galactic Cup. What were the Bucs going to do with the Meril Triplets?

The cupboard was always pretty bare by this point in the draft. The Miners had zero goalkeepers (not an issue with Comstock locked up), one defender (they had two in this draft alread), one midfielder (and they had their hulking, hairy Wookiee too), and four forwards (and they had one already from the second round who was highly ranked). Even so, Tamon had an idea that he knew what was coming next. What else would Quinn Cundertol do with the last pick of the draft but go off the board? The fact he'd done so for Burrnsbacca was understandable--there were not half backs left to draft from the top ranked players. However, if Cundertol wanted to get an insurance half back, there were still a couple on the board.

For the first time all day, Sloan and Cundertol were engaged in a back-and-forth discussion. Who were they debating? Were they advocating for different players? If only the draft table could talk. Sloan was jabbing a finger into it repeatedly, emphasizing her points. Eventually, Cundertol relented, putting his hands up as if in surrender, and this time it was Saorise who took the stage.

"With the final and twenty-second selection of the 284 Elite League Limmie Draft, the Bakura Miners select, from Roon A&M, corner forward, Jo Pawvelski!" the Hapan announced.

The black furred Trianii scurried out to accept her jersey.



Tamon could almost read Sloan's lips as she watched Pawvelski approach. He was pretty sure she said, "She's so cute!" Saoirse was definitely excited as she gave the Miners' final pick her jersey and posed with her. Tamon could swear he heard the entire draft hall exclaim, "Awwwwwwwwww!" at the cuteness of the scene. The holo Tamon took concurred:

---

"Congratulations to all the players selected today!" Fenrir Lokensgaard said to close the draft. "Best of luck at training camp and I imagine I'll see some of you at the season awards later this year. Good night everyone!"

TAG: All, but none too

 

GM Post

HSN Headlines

• ELL announces the admission of the Dac Mariners to ELL in 284 as Skywalker Conference member
• Team was formerly known as Mon Calamari Mariners, but adopted name to be “inclusive of all species that live on our fair world”

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja galactic-vagabond422 jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Runjedirun Vehn

 

GM Post

Friendly Results
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Balmorra Blasters (1-16)

284 Elite League Limmie Schedule
Week 1
Jakku Junkers at Bakura Miners
Coruscant Senators at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
Dac Mariners at Carratos Pirates
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Stewjon Metropolitans
Denon Demons at Ralltiir Starkillers
Mando’ade Mercs at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers

Week 2
Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Bakura Miners
Jakku Junkers at Carratos Pirates
Coruscant Senators at Dac Mariners
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Denon Demons
Stewjon Metropolitans at Ralltiir Starkillers
Mando’ade Mercs at Rydonni Prime Monarchs

Week 3
Coruscant Senators at Jakku Junkers
Carratos Pirates at Bakura Miners
Dac Mariners at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Denon Demons
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Ralltiir Starkillers
Mando’ade Mercs at Stewjon Metropolitans

Week 4
Carratos Pirates at Coruscant Senators
Jakku Junkers at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
Dac Mariners at Bakura Miners
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
Denon Demons at Stewjon Metropolitans
Ralltiir Starkillers at Mando’ade Mercs

Week 5
Dac Mariners at Jakku Junkers
Bakura Miners at Coruscant Senators
Carratos Pirates at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
Ralltiir Starkillers at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Stewjon Metropolitans
Mando’ade Mercs at Denon Demons

Week 6
Jakku Junkers at Mando’ade Mercs
Coruscant Senators at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
Ralltiir Starkillers at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Carratos Pirates
Denon Demons at Dac Mariners
Bakura Miners at Stewjon Metropolitans

Week 7
Coruscant Senators at Denon Demons
Dac Mariners at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
Ralltiir Starkillers at Bakura Miners
Stewjon Metropolitans at Jakku Junkers
Carratos Pirates at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
Mando’ade Mercs at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers

Week 8
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Jakku Junkers
Stewjon Metropolitans at Coruscant Senators
Bakura Miners at Mando’ade Mercs
Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Denon Demons
Carratos Pirates at Ralltiir Starkillers
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Dac Mariners

Week 9
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Coruscant Senators
Bakura Miners at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Stewjon Metropolitans
Carratos Pirates at Mando’ade Mercs
Ralltiir Starkillers at Dac Mariners
Denon Demons at Jakku Junkers

Week 10
Jakku Junkers at Ralltiir Starkillers
Bakura Miners at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
Stewjon Metropolitans at Dac Mariners
Denon Demons at Carratos Pirates
Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
Mando’ade Mercs at Coruscant Senators

Week 11
Dac Mariners at Mando’ade Mercs
Denon Demons at Bakura Miners
Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
Coruscant Senators at Ralltiir Starkillers
Stewjon Metropolitans at Carratos Pirates
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Jakku Junkers

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja galactic-vagabond422 jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny Runjedirun Vehn

 

My name is Jonas.

Yeah, I know, maybe not the best name my parents could have given me. Probably not the only thing they gave me that wasn’t the best, but that’s for the past to judge. Right now, I’m not worried about my past, or anything that’s already occurred. That’s what I like about my job. It’s always forward-looking.

And it makes me a busy guy. It’s another offseason, and that’s when things get crazy. Players move from team to team, contracts get signed, the Draft brings in a new set of rookies to play in the League, the Commissioner usually goes on a few talk shows and sings impromptu things. You know, real important stuff. OK, maybe he thinks it’s important, but the rest of us just think that he should stick to being the Commish. It’s what he’s best at.

So you’re wondering what I do? I’m a representative of the Elite League Player’s Union. That’s right, the Union that can’t even get all member teams of the League to follow its guidelines. I know what you’re thinking; they must be chumps. Well, it’s not so easy if you’re in my shoes, because that means getting 12 team owners to agree on something. Quite frankly, I’m probably closer to growing to be ten feet tall or discovering that I have Force sensitivity and should become something akin to that Tommie Cruz move, you know, ‘The Last Jedi’. The one about that guy who discovers the old culture of enigmatic warriors and decides that he’s going to save them from obliteration after they take him in. Then there’s that final battle with all those extras. Yeah, that was a good movie. Good effects . . . story not quite the best, but hey, a good action flick if you find yourself with a good two hours to kill . . . probably about the amount of time you spend in line for popcorn at the theater . . .

Oh wait, I think I’m getting off-topic here. Apologies. No run through my brain like this would be complete without the random interjections of whatever goes through here on a daily basis. You should have seen what random crap was going through here last week. I mean, mutant green blob things? If I wasn’t so good at this job, I probably wouldn’t be writing for the Holos, you know what I mean? I have absolutely no creativity. My teacher once said I couldn’t draw, and I can see why she said that. I can’t draw, paint, or anything like that. My most important accomplishment from my early life was that I could tie my shoes. Of course, I still sometimes put the wrong shoe on the wrong foot . . . hey, why is my right shoe on the left foot?

Oh no, not again. I really need to stick to the topic. Anyways, I’m a Union rep. My best interest is looking out for the member players. They’re the reason why I do this job. They’re out there putting everything on the line on that pitch. Have you seen how many times players get hurt and miss an entire season? What about those career-ending injuries? You know, the Gunba Pemiti one comes to mind. Of course, it worked out in the end for her replacement, but still, I know that’s why I’m here. Players are just like you and me, people wanting to get fair compensation and good medical care when they get banged up. Why is it so hard to get those things, anyways? We all want good medical coverage and good pay. Ask what I make in a year? No comment. That’s the party line, and I’m sticking to it.

We don’t exactly have the best reputation. Ever since the Refs Union decided to strike that one year, we’ve been stuck in strict scrutiny. It’s not like we’re out on strike every year, you know. We do some work. We’re just not paid enough. And stop asking how much I make! If you want to know, I’ll just say I’m not making enough! Got that? Or do I need to picket for not being paid for being a tour guide of my brain for you? Geez, just give me a break.

Oh, OK. I get it. You just want me to get to the point? I can do that. Anyways, it’s the offseason, and there’s lots of player rights to work on. Like I said earlier, it’s difficult to get those team owners to agree on anything. And I find that there’s a lot to be desired in the relations between players and their organizations. Players shouldn’t just be tossed aside like common folk; these are your Limmie-day heroes, people, come on! They deserve more respect than the organizations are giving them. It’s just not right.

Now it’s after the Draft, and there’s a lot to get done. First we will ask the Drafted players if they are interested in joining the Union, which many do to get their fair pay. But we still get players who aren’t interested, and that’s a travesty, really. Don’t these players know what’s in their best interest? If they don’t, please don’t come to me complaining that you aren’t getting paid what you’re worth. Do you know how much work it took to get the Elite League to pass that minimum pay scale? I had to literally knock on every League official’s door several times for them to finally listen to me. It was a tough time.

It’s odd that the offseason is my busy season. The games of the season are just a break from the craziness, at least until some Union issue comes up. Try repping the Union when there’s all sorts of unrest going on in League member worlds. Replacement players on Bakura, Carratos not having a stadium . . . you get it. Union demands get passed over by the circumstances. I just hope things settle down now so that we can get some real work done on this. Have I mentioned that it’s my goal to increase the influence of the Union?

Yeah, that’s my real goal here. Because I want players and organizations to get along, and for there to be equity for all players across the League. If that wasn’t my goal, I wouldn’t be here.

Now, don’t you have something else to go do? I have to get back to my work, so please make sure to make your way to the door. And stop by the Gift Shop on your way out; yes, my mind has a Gift shop, apparently. Or sign the Guest Book. Just get out, because I have a client on the line. I need to take this.


“Hello, this is Jonas.”

---

Name: Jonas Hillebrand
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Birth Year: 249
Homeworld: Corellia
Relation to Team: No Direct Affiliation – Players’ Union Representative

Description:

Biography: Jonas Hillebrand has never been a Limmie player. Deemed too fat as early as middle school to play the game, Jonas turned his interest into sports management at a time when most kids in the game wanted to someday play pro ball. Graduating from high school with honors, he was able to get a partial scholarship to a Veragi League school. Here, he graduated with a degree in statistics, again with honors. He did his Masters’ work at UC Bella Vistal, majoring in Sports Management with a focus on player interactions. His thesis was well-regarded in its field for shining a new light on how organizations could better interact with their athletes to determine their wishes and needs. After all, there was no reason, he argued, for players to get the short end of the stick.

He bounced around a few jobs in low-level organizations before finally hitting it big in the Premier League as a part-time agent and representative for player interests with the league office. The Elite League took notice of his work, and in 280, he was given a chance to work in the League offices. However, he didn’t find that to be a fulfilling opportunity, and instead chose a gig with the Elite League Players’ Union, an organization representing all players in the Elite League. Although not all the teams abided by the guidelines the Union was pushing for, and the Union did not have the power to force all teams to follow its guidelines, most teams accepted the Union as a valuable institution to better their interactions with Union-member players. Players joined with hopes for various reasons, including better medical coverage and more pay.


Now one of the most-respected reps in the Union hierarchy, Jonas seeks to someday make sure that all Elite League players would receive equal treatment from their organizations, as well as keeping athletes happy and performing at their best for their teams. A happy medium, he believes, is the goal of the Players’ Union, and his goal is to have the Union someday be recognized by all teams in the Elite League.



And so begins the Great Limmie Experiment . . .

 

GM Post

HSN Headlines

• Former Miners head coach Dash Stonlon is announced as new head coach of Tiarest University in the Bak10
• Stonlon confirmed that he interviewed with the Carratos Pirates for an assistant coach position and “seriously considered” the opening
• Stonlon: “I’m too much of an old hand at running my own shop. It would have been like teaching a vornskr to sing: it upsets you and it annoys the vornskr”
• Stonlon is “deeply grateful for being considered by the reigning champion”
• Tiarest University finished fourth in Bak10 standings in 283
• Tiarest athletic director: “It’s time to take this program to the next level”
• Tiarest’s archrival UBSD won the Bak10 in 283. Tiarest has not won Bak10 in the last 13 seasons

TAG: galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Vera Grames
II Avali, Druckenwell
279 ABY

Vera opened her eyes. The soft morning light filtered in through the curtains of the window illuminating the room in a gentle glow. Her husband lay across from her, eyes open, staring, patiently waiting, and not a word was spoken between them. All she could hear was his breathing. All she could feel was her heart gently beating in her chest.

She reached out and placed a hand on the side of his face. He'd just recently shaved, his cheeks smooth and soft, and she smiled. It was a beautiful morning. It had been the most romantic 48 hours of her life. Now they were coming to a close. Now they were running out of time. Now the old fears and anxieties were starting to rise inside her as the realization that with each passing second the love of her life was slipping away.

"Do you have to go?" Vera asked.

Mike hesitated, his eyes drifted past her, focusing, remembering, maybe even avoiding the question. After a long pause he replied, "Yeah, babe, I do."

"I don't want you to go," Vera said snuggling up close to him. "I want you to be here with me, always."

Mike didn't respond. He remained quiet. Vera knew she was requesting the impossible. She knew she was requesting a miracle. She also knew what happened to people who tried to run, to people who tried to flee the war that had landed squarely in their laps. They were shot. They were shot for desertion. The conflict was only a week old and so many people had been rounded up who had failed to report to duty. They were the dissenters, the political activists, and those who were openly afraid of what was to come.

"I'm being selfish, aren't I?" Vera asked.

Mike shook his head, "It shows you love me. I don't want to leave you but you know what happens to those people who run. I go forward and save our family the disgrace or my name will forever be associated with cowardness. You may live years and never live it down if I were to run and be caught. I know this is hard. Maker, this is the hardest moment of my life. Leaving you, it shouldn't have to be this way."

"I need you to promise me something," Vera said.

"Please, babe, no promises," Mike replied trying to stop his wife, "please don't make me promise anything."

"Just look after yourself, Mike, and don't do anything stupid that is going to get you killed. Don't go looking for trouble where there isn't any," Vera said as she kissed her husband.

"I'll do my best," Mike replied as he rolled out of bed and proceeded to get dressed.

They ate a quick breakfast and made their way down to the spaceport. The crowds were thick and heavy as Druckenwell sadly sent its young men and women off to war. Vera held her husband's hand the entire time they walked together toward the shuttle that would take him to the front. There, wherever there was, he would fight in his starfighter and hopefully live to fly another day.

"Shuttle A-2 departing in five minutes," the announcement blared over the intercom.

"That's mine," Mike said.

"Mike," Vera said as she hugged him tightly. She didn't know what to say. This all felt so unreal. This all felt so wrong. They'd only been married a few years. How was this fair? How was this happening? How did life get this way?

"Where are they sending you?" Vera asked.

"They're not telling us," Mike replied.

Vera wanted to press for answers. She could see it was only a half truth. She decided to not to push her luck. She knew when Mike could talk. She knew when he was going to open to her and when he had to shut her out. The hurt of this assignment, of the war, was hanging over them. The coming separation would be hard. It always was.

"Shuttle A-2 boarding in three minutes," the announcement added.

"Listen, Vera," Mike said as he drew her close, "if I don't make it back-"

"Don't talk like that, please," Vera said shaking her head. "You will return to me. You will return to me! You are not going to die out there. You are going to fight and then you're coming back home to me, you understand?"

Mike fought off tears. It was hard for him. He was scared. So was she. "I just wanted you to know that I purchased a small plot of land next to my families burial site. I had to be prepared. I didn't want you scrambling to do something for me if I don't come back. The last thing I want you worrying about is what to do with my body, with burial plans. Everything is arranged. Everything is taken care of. It's just a contigency in case the worst happens."

"Hey," Vera said as she raised a hand and caressed Mike's face, "I will alway be with you. Always."

Mike nodded and looked down at his hand. A holo of Vera rested gently in his palm. It was the holo they'd taken shortly after their first date. They were so happy, so young, so carefree. It was during the summer. It was during the annual summer festival along the waterpark. They'd danced. They'd laughed. They'd shared their first kiss.

"For you," Vera said as she closed Mike's hand over the photo, "something to remember me by while you're up in the skies defending our homeworld."

"Thank you," Mike replied, "thank you so much."

"Shuttle A-2, one minute to departure, final boarding call," the announcer said.

"I need to go," Mike said.

"I know," Vera replied.

The pair walked toward the shuttle holding hands. Vera counted the steps. One, two, three, and wanted to run. She wanted to take Mike with her. She wanted to stop him. She wanted him to stay. To stay at all costs. Where they were going there was no return. They were past that now. Past that point. They were already down the road of no return.

They reached the door and paused to stare long into one another's eyes. The long goodbye. Perhaps the final goodbye. Vera would later find out that unlike the Federation pilots who got to rotate back home after one year on the front, Coalition pilots served until they were either severely wounded or killed. There was no going back home for them. There was no seeing their families unless granted special permission from their commanders. Once they left, they were gone for good.

"I love you Vera Lynn," Mike said with a smile.

"I love you so," Vera replied.

"We will meet again..." Mike whispered.

"one sunny day," Vera replied as she kissed her husband on the lips. Their old motto. The way they always touched base with one another before any trip.

She felt warm tears slip across her lips. Mike was crying. She was crying as well. This was the end. The end of everything. This was the last moment she would ever see him. The last time she would feel his lips on hers. The last time she would ever hold him close and smell his scent. The last time that they would look into one another's eyes as people unchanged by the very violence and destructiveness of war. She squeezed him tight. One last hug. One last form of physical contact. Something to remember him by.

Then he was gone.

Gone forever.

"Stay...." Vera whispered through the lump in her throat as her husband's shuttle rose away from II Avali and up into the clouds.

Up into the war.

---

Present Day
New Vertica, Nar Shaddaa

"Stay? What do you mean, stay?" Mylessa asked during a staff meeting.

Vera shook her head and rubbed her eyes. "I've been distracted lately. Continue with your thoughts."

"Autumn and I have reworked our roster with the anticipationt that Dayharvest and Konder will be gone in a few days," Mylessa said, "and we think we'd like to try pushing Blackwood and see if Wilder is ready to step up."

"Blackwood let you down last year, didn't she?" Vera asked.

"Her performance left a lot to be desired," Autumn replied.

"Without Konder and Dayharvest we'd save a good amount of money. I wouldn't mind unloading those contracts," Vera said.

"You keep drafting until you hit on stars. I don't expect everyone to be the next Meredith Chambers," Addison Karr said, "but the way the team performed last year was pretty uninsipiring."

"The game has changed," Mylessa pointed out, "and we need to change with it. I've got some new offensive schemes to work on this year and install for training camp."

"You can test some of those out on Ralltiir in a few days," Vera said.

"What?" Addison asked.

"I've talked to the Vigo family and persuaded them to play us a friendly game before the season begins. Call the game a walk down memory lane," Vera said, "because I watched that Final and Ralltiir played us perfectly. Every move they matched. Every hit they reciprocated. They showed the league how to beat us. Last year the league did just that. A 2-3 conference record? That isn't going to get us very far. We need to do better."

"And you think playing a game on Ralltiir is going to help us?" Mylessa asked.

"I do. Because its going to show where we need to improve," Vera replied, "and where we are just fine."

"That makes sense," Addison replied.

"I better get hopping on this," Mylessa said, "Autumn?"

"Coming!"

Addison started to pack up her things. Vera reached out and placed a hand on hers.

"Something wrong, Miss Grames?"

"I've been thinking a lot about my husband lately," Vera admitted, "funny how I think about all the things I should have said to him."

"The war took a lot from us," Addison replied, "too much."

"Care for a drink?" Vera asked as she offered some wine from a nearby cooler.

"That's the only way worth celebrating," Addison replied with a knowing smile.

Tag: Runjedirun (for Ralltiir mentions)

 

IC: Mikia Sandin-Manx
Shield Towers, O'pahz, Carratos

"Logan," I call out still hearing the shower running. We had a function to get to. It was the day of the grand opening and the Marauder Melee. The Cutthroat Carnival is in full swing, taking over a large area around the new stadium. Buskers, merchants, and entertainers of all kinds have flooded the area. The carnival was always known for being a party but, this year, this year is different. It feels like there's been an explosion of joy, like all the want to just let loose had been locked up due to the 'Occupation' and rebuilding. Now the city was mostly rebuilt, even the team got involved, volunteering their time to help make their home better.

"We don't have all day." I call out again, this time I hear the water stop. I wait for a few more minutes and finally Logan exits, dressed in his jersey. He sometimes calls it his combat fatigues, since he wore it throughout the 'Occupation'. It's a little torn, a little stained but, is still serviceable. I'm also wearing my jersey, might as well coordinate. He looks up smiling and we make our way down and pass Bara at the door now fully healed at back at his post. It's comforting to have him there, feels like the old days.

We decide to walk to the stadium, even though it might take us longer to get there it's a beautiful spring day, be a shame to waste it. Every once in a while I see Logan touch a wall, possibly remembering his time here when it was a warzone. He still hasn't opened up about that, what he went thought. The government offered counselling for survivors and Logan took it but, he kept me out of it. It hurts a little to think about, that he trusts a stranger more than me. I've tried so many times to ask why he doesn't tell me, and he just deflects.

Besides that there's another rumor going around, Cutty seems to be a no show at practices recently. There was a lot of animosity between her and Ariel after the 'Little Melody' beat out the 'Flyer' for rookie of the year. They both put so much work into winning us the cup, I don't know if our offense will be the same without our white haired full forward. Anyway I'm sure she'll show up soon, this is an important game. It's more than just a friendly it's the Marauder Melee, which is coming twice this year. She wouldn't miss it would she?

I put these thoughts out of my mind as we pass a poster, it's of several beings, men, women, humanoids and otherwise all lined up and dressed in military style uniforms. The message reading,

'For our home, For Carratos'

It's another recruitment poster for the Carratos Defense Force. During the rebuilding the politicians asked themselves why the planet had fallen so fast to an outside force. They came to the decision that it was because Carratos had no regular military force to defend itself with. It took some doing but, in an effort headed by Senator Ombra eventually the Senate allowed us to raise a permanent militia. I really don't care one way or the other but, the Senator approached Logan directly asking him to be the face of the initial recruitment drive. He declined her offer, he was done being a hero, he never was one in the first place.

From what I hear there isn't a problem with recruiting, plenty of people were signing up. Some joined because they lost their jobs when off world businesses didn't return, others because they didn't know what else to do, and some yes were enlisting out of patriotic duty to their homeworld. Gor was even looking at leaving the Pirates to join up but, Logan found a way to talk him out of it. I don't even see a reason for it, it's not like anything will happen again. Besides wasn't the Republic supposed to protect us? Did the government not trust them now after what happened?

I throw all these thoughts out of my mind, as we reach the outer edge of the Carnival. Already I smell food being prepared, it's greasy, and loaded with things I shouldn't have before a serious match, so I restrain myself. Logan on the other hand has no such compunctions try everything he can get his hands on, and refusing to take anything for free. Most beings in his situation would enjoy the perks that come with being a hero but, not my husband. I think that makes me like him more. Sure when he was a player he was always a glory hound, always wanted the flashy goal and to carry the team. But, after his brush with the darker side of things he seems to have tempered that a bit.

We make our way to the new stadium making our way through the crowd that has packed around it. Once some of the beings realized who is coming they swiftly parted giving me and Logan a way to get to the entrance. The new stadium stood tall, it isn't that much different than Goss-Pell there are a few updates here and there but, on the whole it's not any bigger. I stand next to Logan at the front row as the rest of the team files in and stand, all together, behind a podium set in front of the main gates. On the ground in front of us is a large slab with a huge skull and cross bones emblazoned upon it, there's no doubt as to whose house you're entering when you walked towards this place.

"Welcome Scallywags." Schnitt begins getting a hearty 'AAARRRRR' from the audience. "I could stand here and talk about everything we've been through, how quickly we've rebuilt and, how we came together in the hour of greatest need. But, you all know that, and while there is still much work to be done, I think we deserve a bit of a break, so find your seats, get some concessions, and settle in for what promises to be a great game." The GM turns to Logan and waves him forward.

Our new, and hopefully permanent, head coach moves forward and I reflect a little on just how far this team has come. Seven years ago, no one had even heard of us, and barely even knew Carratos even existed. Now we've had two Salbukk Award winners, two Langann Award winning coaches, Two Vigo awards, one for Logan and another for our whole team, an Ingbrand Award, a Grames Award and a Duchess Eldin Award just in the last year, not to mention the three Commissioner's Trophies and now finally the Galactic Cup. Yep we've come a very long way, now we just have to not fall down, we need to keep moving forward.

"Well," Logan starts getting thunderous cheers from his audience, "I won't waste any more time. Ladies and Gentlebeings, I welcome you to Arcadia Colosseum." A roar almost descends from above drawing everyone's eyes up. Look as well and my jaw goes slack, a chill runs up my spine and I feel my hair stand on end. Above me, above all of us is a ship I'd only heard about in legends and stories when I was a little girl. A large black ship with a skull and crossbones on the front. Once I grew up I thought it was just a tale to tell children, a local legend. Seeing it now, it's an indescribable feeling.

A booming sound reverberates from the ship causing me to jump as the Arcadia's cannons fire off into the air. Logan smiles up at me, did he know this was going to happen.

The gates open and Logan and I enter the main concourse. All around are Pirate banners one displayed prominently was one that read,

'283 WE WILL REBUILD, WE WILL PREVAIL'

I'd say we've done both of those things. I expected my husband to go towards the locker room but, no, he leads me around the Colosseum to a place, almost another building off the main one. It's a large trasparasteel dome with native plants and a water feature that bubbles away. In here it's quiet almost contemplative, I think the walls must have some sort of sound proofing. Dominating the middle of the space is a wall, tall and expansive, it looks made up of blocks of differing sizes and shapes, as if haphazard stones were slapped together and stuck in place with a lot of mortar.

Projected onto it are names, names of those killed or have gone missing during the 'Occupation'. This is the memorial garden, and Logan fought long and hard for it. When he heard about the name of the stadium, he was a little upset that it didn't honor those that lost their lives in the conflict. He demanded that something be done to fix that, he even threated to walk away. Schnitt or whoever pulls the strings got this added and, I think it's a good way to remember and honor those that fell.

Logan sits there looking up at it. While the loss of life was not as much as some other conflicts, it was still breathtaking seeing how many names were up on the wall, and there is still more space as all the bodies haven't been identified yet.

I rest my hand on his shoulder and he looks up smiling a little. He grabs my hand and pulls me around the other side of the wall. I follow curious as to why.

"Hey babe," he says finally, looking away, "I know I don't talk to you about what I when through here. But I want you to know it's not because I don't trust you. It's just…It's just." I remain quiet I can see this is difficult for him. "I just didn't want to burden you with my troubles, you already do so much for me, and I didn't want to add another thing to that list. I know it's selfish, and a little prideful of me to think you can't handle what I when through. I see that now," he rubs the back of his head, "after holding off for too long. I'm ready to start opening up a little, to start letting you in on what's going on with me. I'm…I'm sorry for shutting you out for so long, I know it hurt you but, I was still being stupid, I guess old habits die hard." He rubs his legs recalling the year he tried to keep his illness from me and the rest of the team.

I keel down and look him in the eyes, I getting use to his robotic yellow iris now. "It's ok, I can forgive you, one more time but, we're married, so no more secrets ok."

He presses his forehead into mine, "No more secrets." We stay like that for a moment then break away. "So I guess I should tell you that I'm nervous as all get out right now." He says with a weak smile.

"You'll do great." I say moving away, "Besides you got me," I wink almost suggestively, "I'll never let you down coach." A full smirk forms across his face as he follows behind me. I smile as well, we're finally back, finally together, doing what we love. It's the greatest feeling in the galaxy.

TAG: jcgoble3