Star Wars OPEN Elite League Limmie

IC: Dawn Solo
Rydonni Prime

Ever since the donnybrook on Bakura, the Monarchs’ season had been a rollercoaster ride that Dawn couldn’t exit even if she wanted. The League had been generous enough to only levy fines against Sal-Solo and Sarnac, but the Rydonni Prime Front Office did not think this was enough. In the words of their magnanimous General Manager, “A fine was nothing more than a glorified slap on the wrist and would not discourage behaviour that was unbecoming of a player in the Monarchs’ organization.”

Officially they would be suspended for four weeks for violating team rules. Losing two of her field leaders was bad enough, but when the news that Gemma and Elsa were being sent home instead of travelling with the rest of the team to Mandalore Lena Roselli did not hesitate to give GM Nathans a piece of her mind. In turn he did not hesitate to book her a seat on the same flight as her two suspended teammates.

So not only had the Monarchs suffered their first loss of the season, but they also sustained a tremendous blow to their already beleaguered skeleton of a roster. Dawn had no clue how they pulled out a road win against the Mercs, especially with the addition of three young players who had little to no chemistry with anyone outside of their trio.



Jeremy Townsel, Carly Ly’Rane, and Leia Vargaras were as thick as thieves and practically inseparable. They ate together, trained together, and basically roomed together. Despite the fact he had been assigned to room with Corvo Antilles, Townsel was typically seen exiting Ly’Rane’s and Vargaras’ room in the early mornings. This comradery was good for the three youngsters, but it was causing waves within the clubhouse. Rumors swirled that the three were involved in some sort of ‘Love Triangle’ in spite of their viament denials of such. Add to this the fact that both Jeremy and Carly were on the defensive side of the field and Leia was supposed to be spearheading the offensive assault, and Dawn had an invariable powder keg on her hands.

The lack of cohesion was evident when they lost the Sector Cup to the Senators on their home turf. Being doubled up not only cost them a second rivalry game, but also their hold on the top slot in the Solo Conference. Carly and Leia could be seen bickering with each other as they entered and exited the field, meanwhile Jeremy kept his distance. When the team boarded their transport to headout to Chandrila, Dawn pulled the bickering females into her office. The tension between the two was palpapal.

Dawn sat down behind her desk without offering a seat to either player. “Ladies, let me be crystal clear. You have one purpose right now and that is fill the voids left by two of my best players. I don’t know what is happening between the two of you and Townsel, and frankly I don’t give a flying mynock. What I do know is that you better grow up and start playing like the Elite League players you’re supposed to be.” She let her last words hang for the briefest of moments before finalizing the meeting. Without even looking up from her terminal Dawn dismissed the two women.

The Head Coach’s words seemed to take hold, at least for their match against the Patriots. But things seemed to get worse when the Red Wings showed up to practice with the Monarchs just before. Byblos’ right and left Half Backs seemed to focus their attention on Vargaras during the entire practice match. Dawn looked up the pair, Genessa Vanmor and Jolese Maw. Both were undrafted prospects who had worked their way up through the junior leagues. Neither attended major collegiate programs, so they had gone relatively unnoticed.

Interestingly enough, both ended up with full Monarchs contracts before they left the practice field. Dawn noted that Genessa left the stadium with Carly and Jolese with Jeremy. Meanwhile Leia was conspicuously absent from her usual cohorts. Come game day, Carly and Jeremy were back on speaking terms, acting like normal teammates. Meanwhile, Leia seemed to have bonded with Carrie Remington and Tess Sanouci. Dawn hoped these new dynamics would bode well for the team against the Smugglers.

At least for this match…

TAG: @Trieste @Bardan_Jusik @Jedi Gunny @Vehn

 

IC: Boutros Sabah
Arcadia Colosseum, O'Pahz, Carratos

The colosseum rocked with the sound of a million beings stomping their feet as the game prepared to get underway. The team was riding high after the tough victory over the Smugglers. Boutros could still feel the bruises, and pains of her last confrontation with Lereoux. Now back home, she felt the weight of the OSF on her. It was just a few officers, here and there, following her, watching her and Tian. It felt as if she had no privacy, the eyes of the Seccers ever upon her, even in her apartment. She'd had too many sleepless nights, holding her love close.

She slammed her fists into her thigs, snapping her out of her thoughts. This wasn't about the Seccers, wasn't about the sins of the past. This was about the Mercs, the other rivals of the Skywalker. She had seen or been in all the games her team had ever played against the Mandalorians. It was trough, the Mercs gave no quarter and played almost as rough and tumble as the Smugglers. However there was always an air of honor and respect coming off the visitors. They played hard but, kept it clean, mostly. There were still the occasional penalties though without the same vitriol that accompanied the fights between Pirates and Smugglers.

They took the field all as one, facing down the Mandalorian's challenge. The Pirates stood arms over each other's shoulders, an unbroken chain of black and white. They wouldn't be shaken by their shouts and calls. Boutros was next to Tian, it was comforting to have her nearby, it made the world feel less constricting, less crushing. Before the team broke to take their places on the field, the pantoran gave the defender's shoulder a squeeze, the warmth of it soaking into Boutros's chest. Now she was ready to play now she was ready to face down the other hated rivals.

Right from the first whistle the Pirates crashed into the Merc's defensive line. It held strong like a wall of durasteel, the fast nimble forwards, like Serica and Cutty were instantly locked down. They were blocked from their lanes on the net right away. A loud crack was heard even down were Boutros was all the way on the opposite side of the field. The crowd booed and the zeltron looked up to the holoscreens. Gasnar rushed toward Tian in the instant replay, shoulders lowered and teeth somewhat bared and shining. Boutros could feel the hit coming before she saw it.

The barabel caught Tian at the waist sending her backwards, taking her feet off the pitch. Boutros's heart dropped watching her lover be slammed into the ground, and the ball came loose. Leigh swooped in to gather it up only to be cut down herself. That was the tone setter, no one was getting near the Mercs net without a fight, a knock down drag out fight. The Pirates would have to repay the favor. The visitors came rushing down the field, held up a little bit by the midfielders. Then the Mercs entered her domain, the Pirates' defensive zone.

She charged forward sticking close to Arock, the bulky human forward that always seemed to be a contender for the Salbukk. Copying the same style of play she had during the Smugglers, she held nothing back against the mandalorian. She kept it clean, as much as she could. There was some give and take, Arock knew the score. They were coming into the home stretch of the season, this was not a time to hold back, not a time to let things slide. Arock got his hand on the ball and lowered his shoulder trying to barge his way through Boutros.

She countered by coming in just a little lower wrapping her arms around his wide waist and dragging him to the ground, with a heavy thud. He was a staga of a man to being down but, it was her place to stop him every play, every time he touched the ball it was her job to put him on the ground. She would not fail, she could not fail, her team was counting on her. After the first play, he came charging in again and again she slammed him into the pitch. While she kept her mark under wraps, her line mates did as well.

It was a slow, plodding game, with only one bar point and one goal to each team. That score held until the final whistle. It was time for overtime. The team was battered, playing hard, playing with all their souls to keep in the game. The brief rest was not enough, nowhere near enough to recover all that they had lost. There wasn't any time to get it all back, this game had to be settled, there would be no draw, only one team was walking away the victor. The only thing Boutros could do was give all she got left to see her team walk away with the win.

She attacked Arock at full force, well as much force as she could muster. Reppen put a point over the bar giving the Pirates the lead, temporarily. The lead was quickly taken away. Then the unthinkable happened, her mark got past her, with the ball. She took off after him, in lethargic panic. If she could stop him, they could force another overtime, buy themselves just a little more time. The ball left his hand but, she couldn't stop. Not with how fast she was moving, not with how drained she was. She only hoped she hit him soon enough she didn't get called on it.

Lazily she lowered her shoulder crashing into the forward with surprising force but, it didn't matter, she knew it. The ball was already in the back of the net by the time she and Arock hit the turf. She could feel it, she didn't have anything left. It had taken everything to get this far. Taking a breath she staggered to her feet, rallying for one last charge.

"Press," Logan called from the sidelines. There was just enough time for a last desperate attack. They all rushed forward, hoping to overwhelm the Mercs, to push them back, giving just a little bit of hope. Hope that was snuffed, a bad pass, a tip, and a bar point.

That one point ended the game. Victory was so close and it was taken away from them, by a single point.

They were tried, burised and slightly glad that at least the game was over, and now they could get some rest.
___________
Boutros's Apartment

After showering and changing, Tian and Boutros made their way home, nearly stumbling through the front door of their apartment. They slept the sleep of the dead, not aware of anything, and for the first time in a while, Boutros slept soundly.

Waking up in the morning, she looked out the window, and saw a parked speeder, obviously a seccer. This had to end.

"Hey," she started, standing in the living room, comlink held up to her ear, "Sis, I'd like to talk to you."

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik

 

GM Post

Bonus potential for Bakura, Carratos, Coruscant, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, Ralltiir, and Rydonni Prime. Will someone be eliminated from playoff contention today?

289 Week 7 Results
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Rydonni Prime Monarchs (14-34)
Carratos Pirates at Chandrila Patriots (28-2)
Stewjon Metropolitans at Coruscant Senators (26-10)
Mando’ade Mercs at Bakura Miners (39-32)
Euceron Officers at Ralltiir Starkillers (5-3)

HSN Headlines

• HSN projects Chandrila Patriots eliminated from playoff contention

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @galactic-vagabond422 @jcgoble3 @Jedi Gunny @Runjedirun @SWNerd11 @Vehn

 

Sub GM Post

Bonus Potential for Atzerri (28), Tatooine (28), Druckenwell (28), Thyferra (28), and Concordia (28)

LFL Week Six Results
Thyferra Force @ Concordia Crusaders (25-23)
Tatooine Sandskimmers @ Rattatak Sea Devils (20-1)
Atzerri Bandits @ Druckenwell Marksmen (3-22)

Tags: @Jedi Gunny @Bardan_Jusik @galactic-vagabond422 @Vehn

 

​

IC: The Rancor Pitt

"LIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! From downtown Keldabe, on a rainy but somewhat warm victory afternooooon. Welcome on into the Rancor Pitt, here on your wave home of the defending Glactic Cup Champion Mando'ade Mercs. I'm Randy the Rancor, he's Justin Pitt. Liz Baker on the boards, with Kitterich on the other side of the glass and oh baby do we have a lot to talk about today."

"Man, what a crazy game..."

"Mercs bring home the 39 to 32 win over the Miners, and Justin, you must have hated that."

"It...it wasn't limmie as I know it."

"It was great, loved it!"

"You loved the lack of defense?"

"I like a shoot out."

"You loved the total lack of officiating?"

"They're professional, let'em play!"

"Ugh...it's like talking to a gonk droid."

"You're right though, the officials swallowed their whistles in that game, and it led to...well it was interesting."

"It was disgusting, the ELL needs to look into..."

"Yeah, yeah...we will be getting into just what happened in our second segement today, but first, man with the win the post season is starting to come into clearer focus."

"Still a lot of room for movement with just two games left to play, and a chance for most any team to still make the playoffs..."

"Well, not Chandrilla, they were eliminated this weekend."

"That has to be deflating for them, they're a proud franchise."

"Yeah, still no one in the Solo is eliminated just yet."

"Miners are hanging by a thread though..."

"And they played like it against the Mercs who had their best offensive game..."

"And worst defensive..."

"... game of the season."

"Miners fighting for their playoff lives, so no surprise there and with the win the Mercs inched another step closer to yest another post season."

"Nothing set in stone, though it's close."

"Two games left on the season, so they are at least assured of a winning record..."

"We've missed out on the playoffs before with a winning mark."

"Those final two games are also in conference, and though the Mercs are undefeated in the Skywalker right now, a loss in either of their last two games could really set them back."

"That next game is against that team from Nal Hutta's moon, and you know they want to beat the Mercs in the worst way in this year's edition of The Game of Rivals."

"Yeah, they always do, but this year it's extra special."

"These two teams were dominating the conference early on in the season, and though both still have playoff potential, the winner here I think takes the driver's seat..."

"More than the driver's seat for the Mercs."

"Oh?"

"If the Mercs win, they're in."

"Really?"

"It would give them a six and two overall record and a three to zero conference record while the loss would give the Struggler's five losses to go along with the pats five losses already accrued."

"And with just a game to go..."

"No way for the Mercs to get to five losses, and since they only have to beat out two teams now in the conference to make the playoffs."

"...a win clinches it."

"How bad does a loss make things?"

"A loss could really gum up the works. Especially if Carratos..."

"I hate those guys."

"... keep winning as well."

"That would put what...all three teams at five and three?"

"No, the Mercs would be at five and three while the Pirates and Strugglers would be at the .500 mark, four and four."

"Meaning a three way tie would still be possible if the Mercs lost against Chandrilla in the last week and both the Pirates and Strugglers end the season with wins."

"Right. And that three way tie would be decided by points differential because they've all gone one and one against each other in that scenario."

"Yikes. Top two there would make the playoffs though right?"

"Yup, in that scenario doesn't matter what the Officers do, they would be in, as the top seed, even if they lost their remaining two games."

"How come?"

"By virtue of their three and one conference record."

"So...have they clinched?"

"I don't think so. They could lose their remaining games while the Mercs and Pirates win theirs. That would put the Mercs ahead of them, and the Pirates at five and four overall and two and two." Kitterich paused. "Wait a second, that means no way for the Strugglers to get past them."

"Because in that scenario they have to lose to the Mercs..."

"Right."

"So the best the Strugglers could do is four and five to the worst case Officers at five and four."

"Which puts the Officers in."

"Worst the Mercs can do is five and four...equaling the Officers but the Euceron would have the better conference record."

"So...Officers are in?"

"I...I think so, they haven't clinched the always important overall number one seed, but yeah, they are in the post season if i am looking at things correctly."

"And a win this week puts the Mercs in."

"Yes, a win in either of the last two weeks gets the Mercs in the playoffs."

"Becasue it would give them six wins, a feat neither Carratos or Nal Hutta's moon can match."

"Right, and Chandrilla is already eliminated."

"And the Struggler's best chance is to..."

"They have to beat the Mercs, and then..."

"And then there is a bunch of scoreboard watching going on both in their locker room and the Pirates to see not only what the Mercs do, but what each other are doing as well."

"Wow. Crazy..."

"Yeah, and we haven't even talked about the game yet."

TAG: @Trieste who I know has some good in game action planned for us this week.

 

IC: Harle Quinn
Salis D’aar, Bakura

​

HARLE QUINN: DISRUPTOR OR TRAITOR?

That’s the headline of Bakuran Sporting News, a full color glossy holomag that puts me on the front page ahead of our three game homestand to close out the season. (The picture is, as you would expect, of me last week on Stewjon, fist in the air.) Needless to say, I snag a copy and read how they plumb the depths of a pro athlete (me, in case you forgot) taking such a public stand on a social issue. They conclude by saying that nobody knows what’s going to happen if I raise my fist in Bakura Gardens. All of my protests have been offworld. How will the fans react to one of the Miners’ best players protesting during what has previously been viewed as a moment of patriotism?

I have no frigging idea, but that isn’t going to stop me.

On the flight back I think about what my teammates said at their press conferences after the game.

Kyr Irvin: “Man, I’m just here to play limmie. That’s it.”

Jo Pawvelski: “I’ve been on Bakura for five years. I’ve won a Galactic Cup, I’ve been cheered on the limmie field unanimously--and I still get funny looks in the supermarket. If you don’t know that this is real, this double standard, wake the Korriban up.”

Marteen Riggles: “I’m not just a Miner: I’m a Marine too. I am proud to be Bakuran. The national anthem is a moment for unity, to support our homeworld. I don’t think that anyone should make any kind of a demonstration other than putting their hand over their heart.”

Kaffeen: “Ah acrahowo whooao wwoorcrrooaoaowowh aoacraao scro rawhoawocaooorcc ohworcwo aoraorwowh rac canrahowoc rhro scwowh ahwh ohacahaowo rarcscoorc. Aoacwo rrraanrakro schucao whwohoworc wwoorcrrwoao.” (So I don’t speak Shyriiwook. I’m really not sure what he said, but I think it was supportive.)

Niskat Deenever: “We don’t have a divided locker room. Not at all. We respect each other’s opinions and actions. As the game showed, we put all that behind us when it’s time to focus on limmie. This wasn’t and won’t be a distraction.”

Horst Penn: “Butter is my favorite food.” (Honestly, that made more sense than anything else our illustrious assistant captain said at the press conference.)

Deenever is right though. There’s no division in the locker room. We talk about it at our first practice back on Bakura to make sure that everyone feels heard. Riggles tells me that he thinks it’s disrespectful; I tell him I understand. At practice, I make it a point to take a hard hit to cover Riggles’ blind side at one point and he gives me a nod to signal that he gets it. Irvin offers me his hand and says that he isn’t here to get pulled into politics, that he wants a Cup, one that’s his own and not Arock’s; I shake his hand. When we’re at practice, I throw my heart into drills where I pass back to the midfield for Irvin and Burrnsbacca to try for goals. He and I lock eyes and he knows that I don’t hold it against him.

And Niskat? She tells me, “You do you and don’t let anyone stop you from it.” I slap her on the back and work a passing drill where, even though I’m wide open in the coverage, I center the ball for her to take a shot. We high five at the end of the drill.

We are united. No one is going to tear this team apart with rhetoric. No bigots will play out their manufactured divisions amongst us. We will respect each other even when we differ in our opinions. Whatever our disagreements, there is more that brings us together than separates us.

We are Bakura.



And then comes game day. I’ll admit--I’m nervous. Like scared Sithspitless. In our pregame holoconference, I can tell my parents are a little nervous. They don’t tell me that they wish I wasn’t doing this, but I know what they’re thinking: that I’m making myself a target. That some Human might shoot me now. But they respect me too much to say so. They just say “Love you, and be careful.” I love them all the more for it and promise I will.

I don’t turn my racoon blacked eyes up to look to see if there are protestors at the stadium. I focus on the game, on my usual rituals. It’s just another week…even though it isn’t. I keep my eyes on my teammates and the field during warmups, not daring to look into the stands to see if there are signs that proclaim I’m a sorry excuse for a limmie player and that I should go back home to Zeltros where I belong (nevermind that I’m from this planet you idiot).

My worst fears aren’t realized when the crowd cheers as we take the field, but I know I’m not out of the woods. I take my place in line at midfield with my teammates for the national anthems. This is the moment of truth, right here.

But before they start playing, I hear a cheer go up from the stands. I turn and look, despite myself, to see what it is--and my jaw drops.

It’s the frigging Minister of State and Deputy Prime Minister walking onto the field, giving the crowd a wave.

My mind instantly puts it together (remember? I went to PCNS. I’m smart). I know exactly where they’re headed--and sure enough they are. The two politicians insert themselves into the line of players on either side of me. They’re here to keep me in line. It’s the long hand of the ownership, of the Noble House of Trieste, of the ELL coming down to keep the pretty Zeltron girl in place.

Well you know what? FRAK THAT. I’m going to put my fist in the air if I have to punch both of them out with it first. My hand forms into a ball then and there. You think I can rough up the opposing players? Well you won’t even recognize these two pansy politicos when I’m through with them.

I tense for the moment Edelweiss begins. I hear the first few notes and get ready to put my fist in the air--

When I’m stopped dead in my tracks.

Before I can even move Declan and Ayn Trieste, two of the three most senior officials in the federal government, raise their fists in unison. I can’t believe it. They’re not here to silence me--they’re here to support me. When I realize this, I proudly put my fist in the air alongside them.

Nobody boos. Nobody jeers. I don’t know if it’s because they support us or if they’re stunned that two senior Fianna Fail politicians are joining me. I don’t care. Today I’ll take it as I remember a line from a comedy routine I once heard:

“You know, if one person, just one person does it...they may think he's really sick and they won't take him. And if two people, two people do it…in harmony...they may think they're both gay and they won't take either of them. And three people do it, three, can you imagine, three people walking in, singin’ a bar of Alice's Restaurant, and walking out--they may think it's an organization.”

That’s what we are: the Miners for a Better Bakura Organization. And all you gotta do to join is put your fist in the air the next time you hear the national anthem.



The game is an absolute riot. Yes, a riot. It’s hilarious and it’s also a mob engaging in civil disobedience.

First off, the refs call nothing. My primary mark is Nolen Riian. I start the game by punching him in the gut when the official nearest to me is looking away. Now, let me explain: I was born in 265. The Mercs played their first ELL season in 267. Basically, this has been a big game for the Miners for my entire life--and lately they have pushed my team around for this entire decade, the years of my life when I was serious about limmie. Inspired by the Triestes, today I am not going to let them come in here and push me around.

That’s why I punch Riian in the gut. Which is why he trips me immediately after that. I can dish it out as good as I can take it. Game on, buddy. Game freaking on.

Every other player on the field takes note and follows suit. If they’re not outright roughing up members of the opposite team, they are hitting just this side of illegally. Nobody is passing up an opportunity to do the other being wrong. This is a game that will be won in the trenches, pure and simple.

Is this the kind of limmie I play best in? Absolutely not. I play a finesse game, not a grind game. But this is the ELL. You don’t always get the game you want to play. I know that for us to win we’ve got to get points on the board. That is Miners limmie. And for us to get points on the board, I’ve got to do my part. For me to do my part, I’m going to have to open up my game.

I catch the boloball and take off at a run. Wenner gives me a block and I break into the middle of the field. I beat Stargazer clean--but get slammed by Bo’sa before the ball is in the back of the net. I go head over feet across the turf, but raise my arms in celebration from my back as I skid across the grass. If this is the price I must pay to win this game, so be it.

So about that riot bit from earlier? Yeah--by the time the second half starts we’re lucky there aren’t any trash cans around or we’d be slamming them on each other’s heads. If there were bricks we’d be bashing each other’s faces in with them. If this was a lightball game I think I would have smacked Riian in the knee with my bat by this point. (Seriously, have you ever thought about lightball? They give the players weapons!!!! Maybe I should have picked that sport to be good at.)

I put up two goals and two points today--but I’m not the biggest scorer for the Miners. No, that honor belongs to someone else and I’m setting him up every chance I get, no matter how much the Mercs try to punish me. Kyr Irvin has something to prove: that he is a great player in his own right, outside the shadow of Arock. I know what this game means to him and even though he doesn’t protest with me, he is still my teammate. I pass up shots that are 75% likely goals for me to feed Irvin when he breaks up the field. The man in the middle puts up four goals and three points today, a total of 15 of our 32 points. Between us we’re responsible for 23 points. It’s a banner day, but we both pay for every one of our scores. The Mercs give nothing for free.

“For me, the game is encapsulated by a play late in the second when we’re tied 30-30. Zey Rakko’s got the boloball and Mir’ka Kol takes this flying leap into Rakko. I don’t even know how to categorize it. Was it a mauling? That sounds as good as anything else. Niskat rushes in to grab the boloball, but is tackled from behind by Bo’sa. Niskat falls onto the boloball and both Rakko and Kol jump in to try to get it. I rush in and throw myself onto the pile. I’m throwing fists into the nearest silver and blue jersey. I’m not entirely sure why I do it--but it seems like the best way to help the team. That encapsulates this game: scoring and slugging.

They pull us apart and I find that I’ve been wailing on is actually a forward (wow, this scrum got really out of hand if there’s a Merc forward in the pile). It’s that pasty, green haired guy, Jo’ker, who’s starting because of some awful flu that ran through the Mercs’ locker room.

“Well helllllllo beautiful,” Jo’ker grins up at me. He’s got an unnaturally wide set of teeth. “Aren’t you just a shaving cream pie to the face?”

“Only thing you’re gonna get in your face is my fist, Smiley,” I retort.

“Feisty. I like it! You’re going to make me weak at the knees if you keep it up.”

“Well that’s what happens when I slice your ACL with my cleats, pudding,” I say sweetly.

“You, me, a pair of large mallets, a couple rubber Endorian chickens. What do you say?” Jo’ker proposes.

“Huh?” I cock my head. “What’s that? I should kill you and all your teammates to win the game?” I pause. “Sorry. The voices.” I spin my index finger in a circle next to my head. Jo’ker raises an eyebrow. Then I smile. “I’m kidding. Jeez.” I trot off to prepare for play again, but throw a look over my shoulder. “That’s not what they really said.”

As I head off, I hear from behind, “I’ll be seeing you real soon, Harle.” Yeah and the next time you do it’ll be when I put my elbow into your neck.

After all the craziness (and it was crazy) when it’s all over, our defense was just a bit worse than theirs and that was the difference. But I know one thing: the Mercs paid for this one dearly. They know now that they can’t just walk into the Gardens from now on. They can’t chalk the Miners up as a gimme anymore.

Because they’re going to deal with Harle freaking Quinn from now on.



Every part of my body aches as I drag myself down the hallway to my apartment. Even my eyelids hurt. My eyelids, for Force sake. EYELIDS. It actually takes me three tries before I successfully wave my passcard over the sensor for my door. That’s how tired I am.

“There you are.”

I turn and see it’s my neighbor, Pamila. She’s wearing a black dress. She looks good in it. Her red hair is done in a victory roll. I’ve never seen a Falleen do that much with their hair.

“Oh hey there,” I say, leaning with one hand against the wall to brace me and keep me from toppling over. “You look nice. Cocktail party?” She certainly has the heels on for one.

“Wedding,” Pamila replies. “A florist’s work is never done.”

“So that’s what you do? I hope you’re not allergic to pollen.” Of course she isn’t. She’d never have gone into floristry if she was. Stupid thing to say. Stupid stupid stupid.

Ixlay smiles. “I’ve a hardy constitution. So do you, it appears.”

“Well, limmie isn’t for everyone.” Especially not a game like this. As fun as it was, I’m not sure that even I could put up with a game like that week in and week out. I’d had to spend an hour in a warm bath after the game just to be able to totter out of the Gardens.

“Oh, did something happen?” Pamila asks.

“Just a regular old day at the office,” I say brightly and give a salute.

“I can’t turn on the BBC without hearing about you and what you’re doing. When I realized that was you, I…” Pamila paused. “...I guess I was proud that my neighbor took a stand for all of us.”

“Oh? You mean the protest?” I’d almost forgotten about all that after the game we had today.

“It’s very brave of you.” Pamila walks over. “You know, last time we saw each other you mentioned a drink.” She’s close to me. Very close. Like really close.

I tug on the collar of my shirt. “Hey, is it hot in here or is it…”

“Just me?” Pamila asks. That’s funny, Pamila doesn’t look so green anymore. She’s more orangey red. It’s kind of pretty. “That’d be the pheromones.”

“Huh,” I breathe. “So this is what Humans think Zeltrons can do…”

“You mean you can’t?” Pamila says.

“Not any Zeltron I’ve ever known…” Pamila and I are awfully close to each other now.

“Then I must be in trouble, because I thought for sure you were giving off waves of them...so it must just be me.” Pamila doesn’t step away. “My mistake?”

“Yeah...about that…” I grab Pamila by the straps of her dress and fall backwards into my apartment with her.

I love those dear hearts and gentle beings who live on my homeworld.

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik who collaborated on game action and also provided guidance on Kyr Irvin’s character. Additionally, many thanks to Arlo Guthrie for “Alice’s Restaurant”, the song quoted by Harle

 

​

IC: Tomas Vigo

Tomas didn’t take the field with a light feeling. He went through the motions of warm-ups with only one thing on his mind. The playing of the Ralltiir national anthem. When it played Tomas knew what he was going to do. He’d made his decision and he wasn’t changing his mind. Tomas knew that human parents had refused to let Von’kedo observe their children’s surgeries and one day, if he and his wife chose to live on Ralltiir once she was licensed, she might have to choose between seeing a child die or refusing the wishes of a parent. All because she was Alien and not because she had the tools to save the child’s life. What was wrong with people? Tomas had grown up here, he’d seen through the bull shavit some adults preached. When he woke up with a concussion and a beautiful woman was the first thing he saw he fell in love and he would never look back.

So when the Ralltiir national anthem began Tomas closed his eyes and raised his fist in the air. He didn’t see Coach Dash immediately do the same. When Tomas realized his eyes were closed and reminded himself this was nothing to be ashamed of or take lightly and his eyes opened, not only did Tomas see that most of his teammates and coaches had followed his lead. At least half the fans in Financial Square stood tall with their fists in the air. Tomas just hoped this could change things for all beings. His wife deserved to be seen as his equal.

Tomas’ friend and mentor, Coach Ty Allin, got what he wanted. Another classic defensive battle. Unfortunately what the Starkillers really needed was a win. Tomas knew their chances were dismal with a 1-3 divisional record, but Tomas knew that in Limmie just like life you couldn’t just give up. He had to find it within himself to train for another game next week against Chandrilla. The Patriots might be out of the play-offs altogether, it wouldn’t make a difference. Chandrilla was a proud franchise they’d come to Ralltiir ready for battle.

IC: Von’kedo

Von’kedo sat before the game began and allowed her nieces to braid ribbons around her Lekku. When the players lined up for the anthem everyone in the box scrambled to stand up. No one, not even Von’kedo, knew what was about to happen. When Tomas raised his fist in the air Von’kedo slowly took in what was happening and what it meant. Her brother-in-law immediately raised his fist. Several of the children did so too, mostly because they just wanted to be “cool.” Quickly Von’kedo realized this was at least partially a stand for her as well as the adopted children of Richard Vigo so she too raised her fist.

Tag: None

​

 

GM Post

HSN Headlines

• BBC Sports reports that Elza Trieste (Forward, UB Salis D'aar) and Gaius Trieste (Defender, Bakura Fleet Academy) have declared for the 290 ELL Draft
  • Both are adopted children of former Miner player/owner Falene Trieste
  • HSN analyst: "This is huge. Everyone expected they would follow Falene's footsteps and sign directly with the Miners, just like Tomas Vigo. For them to hit the Draft market is huge"
  • Both Elza and Gaius won Bak10 championships in 287 and 288, respectively
  • Their younger adopted sibling, Avie, has been a critical component of PCNS's Bak10 championship this year

TAG: All prospective drafters

 

​

"Hi I'm Ken Kitterich with your five by five sports update brought to you by Merr-Sonn, Fill you enemies with primal fear, fill their lungs with fire, Merr-Sonn."

"It's conference championship week, and the bubble teams were watching as number 21 University of Bison took the early lead against number four Zeltros and went into the half leading 14 to nine."

"I thought they were going to be a bracket buster before the brackets were even made there!"

"But they couldn't hold on, scoring just one bar point in the second half while allowing Zeltros forwards to score ten. University of Zeltros takes the Big 20 Championship by a 19 to 14 final score that will keep Bison out of the post season."

"They should get a better seed too after..."

"And they will be moving up after University of Kuat edged out GVSU by a 22-20 score for the S-16 championship. look for both of those schools to still make the playoff, though they're final seedings will certainly be affected."

"I'm Ken Kitterich and this has been your five by five sports update. I'll be back with you next hour at five after the hour but until then more of the Rancor Pitt, right here on the Fandalorian!"

TAG: no one/everyone



Final HSN Top 25 Rankings for 289

1. University of Kashyyyk
2. University of Zeltros
3. Grand Vulptur System University
4. The Ord Sabaok University
5. University of Onderon Rupings
6. University of Kuat
7. Norand University, Carratos
8. University of Csilla
9. University of the Northern Industrial District
10. Prytis College of Natural Sciences
11. University of Shili
12. Druckenwell Technical University
13. Taanab A&M University
14. University of Tatooine, Anchorhead
15. UB Telaan Valley
16. Enarc Technical University
17. Gargarrump University, Kashyyyk
18. Bakura Fleet Acadamey
19. Citadel University of Anaxes
20. Vertical City University, Nar Shaddaa
21. Wevern-Tylock College
22. Ryloth Ag and Tech University
23. College of Deredith & Millicent
24. Namaryne System University, Rydonni Prime
25. Dac State University

Limmie Lunacy matchups:

Dos Iziz Bowl: #16 Enarc Technical University vs. #1 University of Kashyyyk
Beskar Bowl, presented by MandalMotors: #15 UB Telaan Valley vs. #2 University of Zeltros
Carnation Bowl: #14 University of Tatooine, Anchorhead vs. #3 Grand Vulptur System University
Party Bowl: #13 Taanab A&M University vs. #4 The Ord Sabaok University
Sweetner Bowl: #12 Druckenwell Technical University vs #5 University of Onderon Rupings
Nylonite Bowl: #11 University of Shili vs. #6 University of Kuat
Jogan Bowl: #10 Prytis College of Natural Sciences vs. #7 Norand University, Carratos
Republic Bowl: #9 University of the Northern Industrial District vs. #8 University of Csilla

 

IC: Christine Gamble


The loss to Stewjon was puzzling, to say the least. The Senators had finally put in a full 60-minute game the week before, but couldn’t find traction against the Mets. The offense’s struggles bit time and again, with the younger forwards unable to make plays they were expected to. Leia Adama was tripped up in the first half and had to leave the game for the rest of the day with a bruised heel. Rookie Morgana DuChaard came in for relief, but didn’t have the same kind of impact that Adama did. The Mets crashed in on the other members of the offense, and the Senators struggled.


Two games remained on the schedule before the end of the season. First up were the Miners, whom had a home game here with a shot to torpedo the Senators’ season. To make matters somewhat worse, Adama had mixed reactions from her camps due to the protests now sweeping the non-human population of Bakura. Despite some high-profile support of the movement from Bakuran politicians, her father was furious at the movement and had made his dissatisfaction known in the media. The Senator captain was now caught in turmoil of her own, and not of her design. Christine wasn’t sure how her teammate felt, but it was a lot to have to keep up with in the middle of a playoff chase. The veteran corner back was glad she didn’t have that kind of pressure on her. Leia was right; she had a whole load of extra pressure on her shoulders than the standard player would for the Senators. Well, at least until one of the S’rily boys made it to the team, if that ever occurred. Then things might get worse for them based on their pedigree alone.


Christine warmed up alone in the corner of the field prior to the game. While she normally warmed up with the other defensive players, she wanted a few moments to try and soak this in. This was her last trip to the Gardens, and despite it being a house of horrors for her throughout most of her career, it was still one of the iconic venues in the League. Senator Stadium couldn’t compare despite its amazing architecture; perhaps the old Andromeda field would have been better? But she doubted it. Even New Six Boroughs wasn’t the same as the old field had been, so this was one of a dying breed of the classic old stadiums. Stoney End was the other, but the Senators had usually taken care of business against Chandrila, so that wasn’t nearly as rough on her. But this stadium was an obstacle in itself because the Miners were good . . . and because there were so few seats that one got very self-conscious on the field. Playing in giant stadiums with hordes of faceless fans you couldn’t see from the field was one thing, but this place was so small that it felt different. Perhaps it was an uncomfortable difference if not accustomed to it.


She looked up to see Adama jogging on the field, trying to stick her knees up in the air as high as she could. But the heel hadn’t fully repaired itself over the week, so she was going to be confined to bench duty for the day. DuChaard was going to make her first career start at the full forward spot, and Adama would fill in for about 15-20 minutes to keep her fresh for the final against Euceron. Vinnie Teslaturvy would sub in for the struggling Bas Wren at the corner forward position, and Hela Montego was back in the lineup after the half forward line found no traction against the Mets in her absence due to a strained shoulder.


It was the last time Christine would likely face the Miners, but if there was any indication from past games here, the Miners would not go quietly. In fact, the prerogative was for the Senators to not go quietly. They couldn’t afford another collapse, not again.

TAG: @Trieste (with whom I discussed the Adama protest)

 

IC: Shady Lerouex
The Last Game of Rivals

Shady Lereoux was suited up and ready to go. Laces were tight, cleats were good, jersey was set, gloves were secure, and now the final battle against the Mando'ade Mercs was about to begin. She slapped hands with her teammates as they formed two columns on either side of her as she exited the tunnel into the massive stadium known as Meshla'Vhetin.

The boos, the animosity, the pure hatred rained down on her from stands low and high as the helmeted ones, the Mandalorians, saw public enemy number one for the first time this season. Shady didn't mind the attention. In fact, she soaked the whole frakking thing up. This was her last time playing in Meshla'Vhetin. She wasn't about to let anything go unsaid.

Shady stood on the midfield logo, smack dab in the center of the stadium, and spread her arms wide. She waved her hands as if beckoning the hatred to come right at her. She could feel the anger, she could feel the intensity, she could feel the pure, uncontrolled, vitriol erupting from the Mercs faithful, and all she could do was smile and acknowledge every ounce of the energy as it hit her wave after wave.

The traveling contingent of The Crew, the Smuggler fans, made up a tiny slice of the stands and their voice suddenly carried over the heckling and boos. Shady strained her ears as the familiar battle cry erupted from the Smugglers who championed her name with a fierce repetition of "Wicked! Wicked! Wicked!"

Then, suddenly, the booing stopped. The stadium went deathly quiet. Shady lowered her arms and turned around. There, before her, was the entire Mando'ade Mercs team. They were standing in single file and leading the way was Jolla Pic, recently traded to the Miners. Shady stiffened slightly as she sized up the woman who'd been picked by the Miners ahead of her back in '75. The move that had inadvertently steered the course of Shady's professional career.

Jolla removed her gloves and stepped closer to Shady. The two women sized one another up and Shady wasn't sure if she should get ready for a fist fight. She tensed as Jolla stepped forward and saluted. Words of encouragement were exchanged before Jolla moved on to take her position on the field.

Shady was blown away. She knew what was happening but she was in utter disbelief. She was being honored, in the Mandalorian way, as a warrior. Words escaped the lips of the Mandalorian fans as an ancient song of friendship erupted from their mouths. They sang in their native tongue. They sang in their native hearts. Her watering eyes scanned the fans as the Mando'ade Mercs took the field to play against her one final time.

Martia Paak, graduate of Keldabe Military Institute, stood near Shady and whispered, "I'll translate for you."

Wander my friends, wander with me

Like the mist on the green mountain, moving eternally
Despite our weariness
We'll follow the road
Over hill and valleys
To the end of the journey

Come on my friends and sing with me
Fill the night with joy and sport
Here's a toast to the friends who have gone from us
Like the mist of the green mountain,
Gone forever

Shady, deeply moved, raised a closed fist in the air as she took her own position. She fought back the tears. Fought back the years the sport had taken from her. She fought back the pain that had dogged her all season. She fought back her regrets. Her triumphs. Her mistakes and her guilt. She fought everything back because she had one last battle to fight that really mattered. The only one that ever did.

The Game of Rivals.

She knew in her heart that it was time to play the beautiful game and as the whistle blew, as the fight erupted, she allowed herself to do something she hadn't all year long: Have Fun.

Tag: @Bardan_Jusik (who approved this post) and @Trieste

 

IC: Boutros Sabah
O'Pahz, Carratos

Boutros had to admit that this was weird. She was eating dinner with her sister, a known and infamous gang leader, that in and of itself was out of the ordinary for her. What made in even more absurd was the armored mandalorian sitting at Raka's side and…Tian next to the limmie player. Boutros was keeping up a brave face, keeping the nerves welling up in her stomach off her face. This was not what she envisioned when she called up her sister. She expected a quiet meeting in the Burrow, or somewhere the Howlrunners control. Not a fast causal restaurant in the upper part of town.

How did she get here? That was a simple answer, it was her sister that suggested it. She said that it would be suspicious if they met alone in a place crawling with Runners. An innocuous dinner between sisters and plus ones, the seccers wouldn't look twice, they hoped. However while the situation gave them a cover it was difficult to talk about what Boutros needed to talk about. Tian couldn't know, and it wasn't like they could talk about this openly in a restaurant, surrounded by potential witnesses. Boutros took a long sip of her drink feeling exceedingly nervous.

"So how are things?" Raka asked calmly unworried with the current situation.

"They could be better." Tian piped up quickly, "We got a win against the Smugglers but, lost against the Mercs. Coach is…well he's not sure what to do right now. Our defense was good last game just not good enough, and the offense was decent but, not enough to overcome the other defenses. It is a mess all around."

A bemused smile bloomed on Raka's face, she was excited to hear about the inner workings of the team, though she might have already knew.

"And how are things going for the game against the Patriots?"

"Well, practices are getting longer, and longer. Coach is pushing us harder and harder." Tian continued in her normal bubbly tone. Neither Boutros nor the armored woman had said anything. Though it was for completely different reasons. The mandalorian in red and orange was a bodyguard scaning the area for threats. Boutros was just nervous, doing her best not to show it on her face.

Raka smirked at her companion leaning over to whisper something in her ear. What it was Boutros didn't know but, the grin made her think it was something unsuitable for others to hear. A hiss was heard as the armored figure removed her helmet. Long blonde hair spilled out from underneath the bucket. Sharp blue eyes and determined features continued to survey the room, still as silent as a grave.

"You've been really quiet sis, something up?"

Said sister gave her older sibling a withering glare, of course she knew what was going on, and most likely knew exactly what was going on. She was just gloating, teasing her. Just like her sister, playing with her foes, toying with them until she was ready to put them out of their misery.

"It's nothing, just thinking about the game." Boutros said giving her sister a knowing look.

All Raka did was smirk,

"You shouldn't be nervous, it's the Patriots, and they suck this year."

"You shouldn't assume that any game's going to be easy. Things can always go wrong."

"You can put it away for just a little bit, be here, with your sister?"

The defender narrowed her eyes, just a little, getting tired of Raka's teasing.

"And how are things for you sis?" Boutros asked desperate to turn the conversation away from her.

"Business in good," The gang leader answered with an easy smile, "things are a little quiet but, I don't mind that too much." Basically she meant that the seccer's weren't leaning on her, weren't looking into her activities. Time may have mellowed the Alpha of the Howlrunners, it didn't change what they did. Protection rackets, extortion, loan sharking, and a myriad of other illegal acts, they are still a gang, still uninterested in going straight. Behind her sister's smile hid a thousand vibroblades, and a hundred blasters. That didn't scare Boutros she'd done a lot of terrible things, and Raka knew it.

It was a few minutes more before Tian excused herself, to visit the 'Fresher. Raka gave a nod to her 'friend' and the armored woman rose and followed.

Now the sisters were left alone at the table.

"Now, what about this seccer trouble you got yourself in?" Raka started her tone sharp and to the point.

"They found Pol's body, and their looking at me. They're following me, watching me wherever I go."

"You haven't talked to them have you?"

"No I'm not stupid."

"Good, do you have a lawyer?"

"Do I need one?"

"Might be good, if the seccers come asking again."

"Do you know any?"

"I know one, he's good, he's your best chance to stay out of prison, if OSF comes sniffing around again." The gang leader looked over her shoulder, checking to see if their dates were coming back. "If things get really bad, I can get you off planet, someplace were the locals can't find you."

"I'm not leaving everything I'm built behind, I can't leave the team, I can leave…"

"Tian?"

"No,"

"Does she know…about Pol about what you did?"

"No, you think I want her to be an accessory after the fact?"

"Do you trust her?" Raka pressed, her gaze hardening.

"Of course I do." Boutros replied nearly snapping at her sister.

"Do you trust that she won't talk to the seccers?"

"Would you?"

"I'm not the one sleeping with her."

"Do you trust your partner?" Boutros thrust her chin towards the 'fresher where Jai and Tian disappeared to.

"We're not like that, and I only ever trusted one person…" Raka's cold eyes bored into Boutros, causing the limmie player to shiver, "you."

Boutros said nothing looking away.

"Sis, I can handle this another way, but…I know you've gone straight, and you might not like, what has to be done."

"You wouldn't…"

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe but, I don't want you to feel anymore guilt than you feel now. Don't think I don't see it. You're looking nervous, jumping at noises, Tian can see it to. I can end this but, in a way you would like now."

"Let's start with the lawyer, go from there."

"Alright, I'll have him give you a call."

Boutros wanted to continue to ask what Raka's plan was but, Tian and the mandalroian returned ended the conversation.

They continued with their 'double date' until well into the evening, leaving Boutros much to think about.

Like should she tell Tian what is going on?

The game flew past, the offense crushing the Patriots and the defense doing much the same on the other end. It was a good game, ridding the feeling of failure lingering over them from the OT loss to the Mercs.

Now the Playoffs were just a few weeks away now, would they make it, would Boutros be there to see it?

TAG: No One.

 

GM Post

First off, because I keep forgetting to mention it, if you have Limmie Hall of Fame nominees, send them to me. I'll be making an announcement of inductees soon.

Second, bonus potential for Bakura, Carratos, Coruscant, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, and Ralltiir this week. Time to find out more about the playoff picture!

289 Week 8 Results
Chandrila Patriots at Ralltiir Starkillers (23-8)
Carratos Pirates at Stewjon Metropolitans (0-2)
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Euceron Officers (17-19)
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Mando’ade Mercs (29-12)
Coruscant Senators at Bakura Miners (16-26)

HSN Headlines

• HSN confirms Euceron Storm have secured a playoff spot in the Skywalker Conference
• HSN projects no other Skywalker Conference teams have secured a playoff spot
  • Mando'ade Mercs make playoffs with win at Chandrila
  • Carratos Pirates make playoffs with win versus Ralltiir
  • Nar Shaddaa Smugglers make playoffs with win at Bakura and loss by Mando'ade due to head-to-head tiebreaker secured in this week's tiebreaker
• HSN projects Rydonni Prime Monarchs have secured a playoff spot in the Solo Conference
• HSN projects no other Solo Conference teams have secured a playoff spot
  • Stewjon Metropolitans make playoffs with win at Rydonni Prime
  • Coruscant Senators make playoffs with win versus Euceron
  • Bakura Miners make playoffs with win versus Nar Shaddaa and loss by either Stewjon or Coruscant due to conference record tiebreaker
• HSN projects Ralltiir Starkillers have been eliminated from the playoffs due to 1-3 conference record

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @galactic-vagabond422 @jcgoble3 @Jedi Gunny @Runjedirun @SWNerd11 @Vehn

 

Sub GM Post
Bonus Potential for Atzerri (28), Tatooine (28), Druckenwell (28), Thyferra (28), and Concordia (28)

LFL Week Seven Results
Thyferra Force @ Tatooine Sandskimmers (4-20)
Rattatak Sea Devils @ Druckenwell Marksmen (11-27)
Concordia Crusaders @ Atzerri Bandits (13-26)

Tags: @Jedi Gunny @Vehn @Bardan_Jusik @galactic-vagabond422

 

GM Post

HSN Headlines

• HSN updates its Skywalker Conference projections
  • Mando'ade Mercs projected to have secured a playoff berth
  • Nar Shaddaa Smugglers will secure a playoff berth with win at Bakura or a Carratos loss
    
  • Carratos Pirates will secure a playoff berth with a win versus Ralltiir and Nar Shaddaa loss

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @galactic-vagabond422 @Vehn

 

IC: Harle Quinn

​

Salis D’aar, Bakura
Morning after Mando’ade vs. Bakura

I pull my bedsheets down ever so slightly so the hem is just below my eyes. Yes, there is a lime-colored lady in my bed with her burgundy hair in a tousle on the pillow. She is breathing gently, her nostrils flaring. I can’t understand why she’s asleep. (Well, I can after what we got up to last night. It was…energetic.) I’m a bundle of emotions. This is better than my first hat trick. It’s like fireworks are going off in my chest. I can see all the sparkly lights hovering around Pamila’s face. It’s like a holodrama and the world is in soft focus and she’s being backlit so she has this halo.

“Go back to sleep,” Pamila says without opening her eyes.

“But I don’t waaaaaaaaana, Pammy,” I plead, snuggling tighter against her.

“Don’t you have work?” Pamila asks, still keeping her eyes shut, as if that will dissuade me. (Guess what? It won’t!)

“Nope!” I inform her happily. “We get the day off after the game. That means we can stay in bed allllllllllll day!” I rub one of my thighs against hers to help remind her about how my acrobatics aren’t limited to the limmie field. (Yay friction!)

“Well I have to go to work,” Pamila sighs. She finally opens her eyes. “You don’t own a small business. It owns you.”

“I reject your reality and substitute my own,” I inform her.

“Tell that to our landlord,” Pam grumbles, but she snakes an arm around me like a vine. As we settle in, her datapad buzzes on the nightstand. (How it got there I have no freaking idea given our veritable stampede to get undressed.) She reaches for it.

“Do you haaaaaave to?” I plead. If she looks at her datapad then that means she might go into work and I don’t want that.

“Just want a quick look,” she promises as she brings the screen up. I nuzzle my head against her shoulder, so I feel her chest heave as she sighs. It’s not a I-really-do-have-to-go-to-work sigh. It’s something deeper. It’s a sigh of deep sadness.

“What is it, Pam-a-lamb?” I ask, rotating my head to peer at the screen.

Pam doesn’t try to shield me from what she sees. I now know what her sigh was. It wasn’t just sadness: it was how-this-still-happening.

SALIS D’AAR TEEN DUROS SHOT BY SDPD

Pam, bless her heart, puts her hand on my head and I start to cry.

​

Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura
Gameday vs. Coruscant

I sit, hunched over, facing the back of my locker stall. Our pregame practice is over and I know I should be locked in on the start of my first Senatorial Showdown. Coruscant has got it this year. They are going to come in determined to take this one. I’m going to have to bring it today if we’re going to stay in playoff contention.

But that’s the furthest thing from my mind. All I can think about is Chan Jamey, the 17 year-old Duros boy who Salis D’aar PD shot today. It was so similar to what happened to Tilly. So so tragically similar. A police officer who felt threatened, a young non-human who wanted to be treated with dignity and respect, a blaster bolt to the chest, an “administrative leave” for the offending officer and no charges filed all week long.

As I look at my face, sadness wells up inside me. I have done nothing. Non-human kids are still dying. Their lives still don’t matter. Nothing. I thought I was doing something, that I was opening Bakura’s eyes to an injustice, that once they saw they would do something.

But nothing has changed.

And now I have to forget all that and play. That’s what I tell myself as I look at my reflection. The game has to go on. I grab my makeup kit and start applying my halos of eye black, busying myself in my new gameday routine. I use a pad to apply the black and tell myself not to cry. If I start, I might not stop and I can’t afford that now. I can’t do anything about what happened to Chan, but I can show Bakura that we will persevere. I can raise my fist and show we are unbowed, unbroken.

I snap the eye black case shut and drop it in the makeup bag. My eyes follow it as it falls. That’s when I realize that I’m wrong.

There is something I still can do.



The Miners enter the field as a team. We have for years. It’s just how we do things. We aren’t a collection of individuals, we are a team.

But today I hang back as my teammates explode onto the field like a demolition blast shooting out a mine shaft. I wonder if I should do this. I wonder if I’m being selfish.

No. I’m not being selfish. No more selfish than Tilly. No more selfish than Chan. No more selfish than any non-human who asks to live their life equal under the law to any other.

I run onto the field. I know it’s just my imagination (I have a really good imagination, by the way, like really good. It’s how I see so many opportunities on the limmie field. It’s like there’s a voice in my head pointing the way. But not like this is a voice in my head. That would just be weird. I mean, a voice in my head wouldn’t engage in a running monologue about its own existence. That would take a really good imagination), but I can almost hear the murmuring from the stands. I look straight ahead, because it’s game time. I am focused on the game. But I know that’s not what everyone else is thinking about. They’re staring at my face.

My white face.

I can’t remember when I picked up the white concealer. For all I know, it was one of my PCNS roommates’ that somehow wound up in my stuff. All I know was that it was just there and I knew what I had to do. I don’t know why I knew what I had to do, but I knew. I put it on. I dusted it all across my nose, my cheeks, my forehead, my chin, my neck until my pink skin was hidden.

Bakuran police thinks they can just shoot beings because they don’t look like them? Then I’ll throw that back in their face. (Ha! Pun!) Let’s see what they do when a non-human chooses to look like so many of them. It wasn’t peach or yellow or brown or black. It was white. It was Small and white, clean and bright, just like in the anthem.

Is it deliberately provocative? Yes. But frak it. I throw my fist in the air. Deal with it, Bakura.

Deal. With. It.



The Senators want it bad. Like baaaaaaaaaaad.

It’s evident in how my primary defender plays. I’ve drawn Klay Mettews, one of the Senators’ top defenders. He’s fierce. (Or maybe it’s just the hair? Maybe? Nah, probably not. He is super good. But that hair...c’mon!) He is locked in. He also does not punch me in the face at any point in the game (which, considering what’s happened during this season, definitely puts him in the top three of my impending blog post Harle’s Least Annoying ELL Defenders). I mean, sure, he drives me into the turf like a 16 year old with a learner’s permit and his dad’s Mazerutti speeder, but he plays with controlled intensity. A consummate professional.

You know, not me.

I, of course, rough up Mettews at every opportunity and the refs catch most of it. (Somebody got a taaaaaalking to after last week!) Admittedly, a lot of our drives stall out because we turn over possession in the offensive zone, but I, for one, think it was completely worth it. Even if it doesn’t get under Mettew’s skin like some of the other beings I’ve played against.

And why is it worth it? Because only a couple of times--and I do mean a couple in the sense of two, not three (seriously beings-who-invented-Basic, a couple means two, not three or four! How did you allow this to happen?!)--I break away. I get just enough separation from Mettews that I’m a viable passing option and I convert both of them for goals. They’re key moments to swing momentum our way and part of how we get the victory. Don’t be fooled by that score--like I said, Coruscant wanted it bad.

When the game is over, we celebrate not because we won a rivalry that goes back decades, but because all know we still have a shot. We can still make the playoffs. I can tell right now--the next game will be the longest one I’ve ever played in my life.

And nothing else happened in the game!



























Really!








































Seriously!






































Okay, maybe one other thing happened. Maybe I wanted to prove myself against the great Christine Gamble, who’s been playing limmie almost as long as I’ve been interested in limmie. Maybe once I got away from Mettews with the boloball. Maybe I cut into the middle to show up Gamble. Maybe I was rudely awakened by getting wrapped up in a hard tackle and I fumbled the ball. Maybe I rolled around on the ground in momentary--and I stress momentary--pain. Maybe the veteran put this rookie in her place.

But definitely we won the game and definitely we have a chance at the playoffs. (So forget all those maybes!)

And next week is Truce Day too. Hold onto your eopies folks.

TAG: @Jedi Gunny

 

IC: Christine Gamble




The week leading up to the season finale had seemed like a blur to the veteran corner back as she reflected upon her thoughts in the lead-up to the Euceron game. There was pressure on her shoulders to perform, to make the right plays and lead her team to victory and a playoff berth. She did not want to endure a third straight season with missing the postseason; that wouldn’t cut it. At the end of the road, no one wanted to go out like that.


There had been a small media tour, the interviews coming fast and furious as she reiterated that she had not made up her mind about if she was going to come back for another season. But she had not fooled anyone with her charade; everyone knew this was her last year. The only thing left to do was admit that their intuition was right, that this was the end of the road for the fifth overall pick in the 275 Draft. The Draft that remained the consensus best in franchise history had yielded three starters from its draft class, but she was the only one left after all these years. Vail Pin and Jamee Meels had hung up their spikes years earlier, but she had yet to join them.


When she had signed that six-year contract extension, she hadn’t fully understood what reaching the end of the contract would feel like. Sure Briar Adama had made it clear that the Senators wanted to keep their star corner back in town, with the idea that it would be the last Limmie contract she would ever sign to don the uniform and play in games. Christine hadn’t argued with the Bakuran’s logic at the time, but now it appeared to be a line in the sand. It had been an excellent marker of where she figured her usefulness to the team ended. After all, there was more to life than Limmie for her now. Another year or two probably wouldn’t change much, and it would just lead to a higher risk of injury.


The emotional speech she gave to the sold-out crowd at Senator Stadium had come from the depths of her mind and her heart. She had been through a ton with the franchise, from her stalwart rookie season that had ended in disaster in the blow-up that year in the playoffs, through to now fighting for a playoff berth in her last year. There had been trade rumors swirling for years, the uncertainty impacting her play each time her name came up on the trade block. The surgery the team doctor had performed on her without her consent in her second season still haunted her; that had not been a highlight of her career. But she could not argue with the results. The surgery had cleared her to play all these years and make a name for herself in the League. Maybe the doctor knew what he was doing after all?


She had stood at midfield during her speech. There was no telling if it were to be her final home game as a player. The odds of the Senators making the postseason were good, if such a statement could be made, but that guaranteed nothing. If they did make it, they likely would head to Stewjon and then to Rydonni Prime if the standings held out in the final week of the season. That meant this was it for Senator Stadium for her. And the team didn’t want to miss its opportunity. They would have done this regardless of their playoff standing.


Ava Killenger had come out to the game. The now-director of a treatment facility for recovering alcoholics and addicts, Killenger’s competitive spirit and triumph through adversity a decade earlier as Christine’s teammate had rubbed off on the corner back. Every time Christine had to suffer through a debacle on the field, she had to remind herself that Killenger had gone through so much more in her crusade against addiction. There were beings out there who had it much worse than a few missed tackles or a lost game. In the end, what the former forward was doing now likely had more positive impact on society than what the Senators did. But the media never looked at it that way; the Senators were much more important in their eyes.


“You made it,” Killenger said during their embrace on the sidelines after Christine left the field to rejoin her teammates.


“You could have come back and played,” Christine said. “But you found your true calling. I found mine.”


“Now go out and win this game. It’s time you get your shot at a title. I get my victories in every time we sober up an addict and can get them out to transitional housing, or when they come back as a volunteer to mentor the new patients. The field never gave me those victories, and it wasn’t where I belonged anymore.”


“You ready, old timer?” Leia Adama asked as Christine stared at the giant Senator logo in the middle of the locker room. “One last time out of the tunnel?”


“I’m ready,” Christine replied. She stood up from the bench and looked away from the logo. Somehow, that logo would be synonymous with her forever more, the career she had spent staring at it to be associated with her very being. She could never outlive being a Senator.


When the team entered the field of play, she was the last one to leave the tunnel. It was her moment, and the rest of the team was out of the way. It had to be that way.


“One more time, please welcome to the field a corner back from The Ord Sabaok University. Captain of Team Ord Sabaok in the inaugural Interplanetary Cup Tournament. Eleven-time All-Star. Please welcome Christine Gamble.”


Christine took a deep breath and ran onto the field into the blinding stadium lights and the roar of the crowd. If this was how it ended at Senator Stadium, it was the right way. It was the end of her career, but she was sure that it wasn’t the last that Limmie fans would hear of her name. She had a feeling that the Team Hall of Fame would add her to the ranks soon enough. Maybe her jersey would even hang in the rafters someday, but that was for another day.


It was time to throw down with Euceron.

TAG: @jcgoble3]

 

​

IC: The Rancor Pitt

"LIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! From downtown Keldabe, on a sunny but cool Taungsday afternooooon. Welcome on into the Rancor Pitt, here on your wave home of the defending Glactic Cup Champion Mando'ade Mercs. I'm Randy the Rancor, he's Justin Pitt. Liz Baker on the boards, with Kitterich on the other side of the glass and oh baby do we have a lot to talk about today."

"Season winding down and it's starting to get cold out there."

"Yeah it is." Liz sounded miserable.

"You know what else has gone cold?"

"The Mercs offense."

"ugh...scored just 12 points in a loss to the Strugglers..."

"Who don't seem to be struggling anymore"

"In what many think will be Shady Shady Lerouex's last visit to Meshla Vhetin."

"What a career, and to think it's going to be over."

"One of the dirtiest players to ever play the game, think she has a shot at the HoF?"

"I'd vote for her, she's a giant in the modern game."

"And she made her mark in this game as well, putting the Smugglers on her back and willing them to the 29 to 12 victory over the Mercs."

"She played...it might have been the best game I've ever see anyone play. Crisp, fast, dominating. She knew it would be her last time in front of these fans, and she wanted to send them home unhappy."

"Well, we did take the loss, but I don't know about unhappy..."

"The reaction they gave as the clock winded down..." There was a long pause. "The chanting, the banging of armor plates. It was a standing ovation for a strong competitor, honoring a true warrior, even a hated, and I mean hated, enemy, at the end of a long and storied career. That was all about respect for her, and what she's done over the years for the sport of limmie."

"Even if it was dirty?"

"You're talking about Mercs fans here, they probably respected her more because she played dirty."

"OK, so Shady played the game of her life but what about another player on the downward swing of her career, Jolla Pic?"

"Man, she looked bad out there again this week. A step slow, and..."

"Think she is done too?"

"I don't know, I really don't."

"Why not?"

"She looked great at the beginning of the season."

"Yeah."

"So I'm not sure if this is just the grind of a long..."

"Though not as long as it used to be."

"...season wearing her down, or if she is picking her spots and will come back full force in the playoffs."

"The playoffs, glad you brought that up because despite the loss the Mercs did clinch a playoff berth due to the two zip loss to the Mets by the Pirates."

"They still have a shot at the top seed with a game to go even!"

"Yeah, but they are going to need some help there. They have to win at Chandrilla and then hope for an officer's loss to grab the top seed in the conference playoffs."

"Explain to folks who might not have the standings in front of them how that works."

"Well a Mercs win along with a Storm loss..."

"Officers"

"... would put them both at. Right. Officers. I will never get used to that..."

"None of us will."

"Anyway, Mercs win and an officers loss would put them both at 6-3 overall, 3-1 in conference. So it would come down to the head to head march up which the Mercs won in week 2."

"So, what you're saying is there is still a chance for a first round bye?"

"Yes, but a slim one. Mercs need help to grab that all important first round bye while the Officers hold their own destiny, and a potential Commissioner's Trophy, in their hands."

"What about the last playoff spot?"

"That comes down to the Smugglers and Pirates."

"So lose/lose for Mercs fans there."

"Also means that this might not have been Shady's last visit to Meshla Vhetin after all..."

"If the Pirates win and the Smugglers lose they end up in a tie, both overall and conference record as well..."

"So it could, could come down to the head to head match up there?"

"Yes, which would give it to the Pirates on the strength of their 18-15 win over the Smugglers in week five."

"Wow."

"Tightly packed bunch in the Skywalker, and nothing is decided yet."

"Exciting limmie left to be played in the final week of the season, but at least we know this. The Mercs will have a post season to remember!"

TAG: @Vehn, who approved of the in game action regarding Shady and the Smugglers.

 

​

"Hi I'm Ken Kitterich with your five by five sports update brought to you by Merr-Sonn, Fill you enemies with primal fear, fill their lungs with fire, Merr-Sonn."

"Limmie Lunacy is upon us and already I think everyone's bracket is totally busted..."

"I know mine is shredded all to the nine hells."

"Mine is...fine..."

"That's a load of osik."

"Well...I'm happy with it."

"Yeah I bet."

"We'll start with the big news of the day. The Dos Iziz Bowl where we saw the first ever upset of a number 1 overall seed by the number 16 as Enarc Technical University takes down powerhouse University of Kashyyyk, 23 to 18."

"I don't think anyone...anyone, had that pick."

"You see how the Enarc student section stored the field and tore down the goalposts afterwards?"

"Yeah, and they weren't the only school doing it this week. What a bloodbath."

"The upsets continued in the Beskar Bowl..."

"Presented by MandalMotors."

"...as number 15 UB Telaan Valley beat number two University of Zeltros 28 to 23."

"Fun as hell watching the locals in attendance there puling for the upset and then seeing it happen."

"The upsets didn't stop there as number 14 University of Tatooine, Anchorhead beat number three Grand Vulptur System University..."

"HA!"

"...26 to 23 in the Carnation Bowl."

"Can't believe the top three seeds all lost in the opening round..."

"It's crazy, but the bloodletting was stemmed a bit in the Party Bowl as number four The Ord Sabaok University..."

"Yes, oh yes!"

"...beat number 13 Taanab A&M University 22 to 17."

"StarBucks going all the way!"

"Highest seed left..."

"Seeding doesn't seem to matter in this year's tournament."

"Yeah, the results seem almost random..."

"Like true rolls of the dice..."

"Over in the Sweetner Bowl number 12 Druckenwell Technical University lost 30 to 15 to number five University of Onderon Rupings. While in the Nylonite Bowl number 11 University of Shili lost to number six University of Kuat 25 to 21."

"UK looked pretty good there, Shilli is no slouch team."

"In the Jogan Bowl number 10 Prytis College of Natural Sciences continued to do the Bak 10 proud with a 24 to 20 win over number 10 Norand University, Carratos."

"Both Bak 10 teams in the tourny took home wins."

"Strong conference, but only one of them gets through next week"

"And there was a minor upset in the Republic Bowl as number nine University of the Northern Industrial District beat number eight University of Csilla 25 to21."

"I'm Ken Kitterich and this has been your five by five sports update. I'll be back with you next hour at five after the hour but until then more of the Rancor Pitt, right here on the Fandalorian!"

TAG: no one/everyone



Elite Eight Match ups:

Papa Palpatine Bowl: #16 Enarc Technical University vs. #9 University of the Northern Industrial District

Incom Bowl: #15 UB Telaan Valley vs. #10 Prytis College of Natural Sciences

Bank of the Core Bowl: #14 University of Tatooine, Anchorhead vs. #6 University of Kuat

SoroSuub Bowl: #4 The Ord Sabaok University vs. #5 University of Onderon Rupings

 

GM Post

HSN Headlines

• Ralltiir Starkillers announce their starters will be benched for final game of the season and reserves will start
• HSN analysts differ on motivation for move
  • "This is definitely Stonlon telling his team that missing a playoff spot is unacceptable. If the starters can't get it done, the backups deserve a chance to take those jobs"
    
  • "This could be a case of the Starkillers purposely trying to lose to get the best draft position possible"
    • Starkillers would secure first overall draft pick with a loss this week
• Commissioner Lokensgaard on possible tanking by Ralltiir: "The League expects all teams will do their utmost to win every game. If Ralltiir believes their chances are best supported by giving their reserve players the opportunity to start, that is their right"
• A win by Ralltiir and loss by Carratos will give the Pirates first overall draft pick if they participate in the 290 Draft

TAG: @galactic-vagabond422 @Runjedirun

 

GM Post

HSN Headlines

• Limmie Hall of Fame announces its 289 inductees
  • Gaeriel Valerii inducted for her five Galactic Cup championships (two as a player, three as a head coach), all with the Bakura Miners
  • Kaitlyn Vehn inducted as a two-time Galactic Cup champion, as well as her philanthropisy on Nar Shaddaa, particularly in connection with the Valor Foundation
• Both inductees will be honored prior to the Miners/Smugglers game on Bakura this week

TAG: @Vehn

 

IC: Tomas Vigo

Tomas pulled the folded envelope out of his pocket and locked his bedroom door behind him. He was alone in the apartment. Von wasn’t due home from the Med Center for another hour at least. The letter was private. Tomas did not want to be interrupted. He’d waited two days to read it.

Little Vigo,

Go to Tatooine. Learn from Spencer, he can teach you. Remember to be aggressive on your offense. You look scared out there Tomas. Don’t be afraid. Never hesitate.

Give your bride a kiss tonight.

-T.T.

Angrily Tomas crumpled the paper. Nothing personal, not a single question about his mother or sister. Didn’t he love them anymore?

***
That night Tomas put his arm around Von’kedo as they watched a holo together on the sofa. “It’s nice to spend time together,” he said.

“I know you’d rather be preparing for this week’s game,” Von’kedo consoled.

Tomas thought about it, “There will be more games,” he said. “Besides now we can visit your family during your school break.”

“Really?” Von’kedo said excitedly.

“Gives me an excuse to fly the ship,” Tomas reminded her eagerly.

“And see your brother,” Von’kedo added. Maybe he was taking Till’s advice. What else could he do? It was humiliating to sit the bench this week. To not even play. He had to do something. Maybe going to Tatooine was a start.

IC: Von’kedo

As Von'kedo closed down her data pad, tired of studying for the evening, she saw Tomas preparing to watch the Sandsimmers game in the living room. There he sat on the sofa in a pair of boxers and a white v neck t-shirt. She looked down at her baggy sweat pants and oversized t-shirt. Quickly she slipped into the bedroom and opened her dresser drawer. She stripped completely, put on a matching purple bra and underwear set. Found a matching tank and cute pair of boy shorts to barely cover them.

Before going back into the living room she put on a fresh coat of lip gloss and eye liner. Quickly she ran out, hopped on the sofa and snuggled next to Tomas. “You must be cold,” he said grabbing a throw and putting it over her.

She put half the blanket over him so they could share and felt their thighs brush up against each other. She looked up at the holo, the Sandskimmers were on Concordia and they needed a win to assure a home game next week. It was strange to know that. Von’kedo wanted the Sandskimmers to win so Tomas could attend their game next week. So his brother Spencer would be around for him to see more. Tomas and Spencer had a special bond. A bond like she herself shared with her eldest sister. Von'kedo missed home.

Tag: None

 

IC: Shady Lerouex
259 ABY
103rd Galactic Cup Final
Hana City, Chandrila
Bakura Miners 18, Nar Shaddaa Smugglers 15


"Maybe next year, Daddy," Six year old Shady Lerouex said as she consoled her father following the Nar Shaddaa Smuggler's heartbreaking loss to the Bakura Miners.

"I saved a whole year's worth of pay to get us here," her father grumbled as he finished his beer, "and they couldn't even win the damn game. I just needed one good thing to go right this year. One thing. That's not too much to ask."

Shady looked down at her feet and felt sad. She wasn't used to seeing her father so upset. She couldn't think of a time when he'd used bad words either. It wasn't like him. Something was wrong. Something more than just watching a game.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" Shady asked.

"There's no easy way to say this kiddo," her father said, "but your mother and I are splitting up. I'll stay at our home on Nar Shaddaa and you're going to go live with her on Bakura."

Shady began to cry.

"Hey," her father gently said, "come here."

Shady leaned over and found herself wrapped in her father's strong arms. She hugged him tight as the pair watched the gold and blue confetti rain down across the Miners players on the pitch. She never wanted to leave him.

"I don't want to live on Bakura," Shady moaned through her tears.

"I know," her father weakly replied, "I know. You'll still see me once a month."


"I don't want to leave you," Shady whispered in her father's ear. "Please, don't let me go."

Her father pulled away and replied, "Shady, look at me."

"Look at me," her father repeated.

Shady fought through her blurry vision, her stinging tears, and focused on her father's eyes. She knew he loved her. She knew that she was everything to him and if he could have found a way to prevent this from happening he would have.

"Always pursue your dreams," her father said gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, "always pursue your dreams and know that I will always be right there cheering you on."

Shady's eyes flicked to the field down below. She watched the Miners players and coaches pass around the Galactic Cup of Limmie. They seemed so happy. They seemed so ecstatic. They seemed as if nothing in the galaxy could ever bring them down or destroy them. Today was the best day of their lives. It was the worst day of her life.

"I know what I want to be when I grow up," Shady said as she squeezed her father's hand tight.

"What's that, my love?" her father said.

"A professional limmie player," Shady replied.

"And what team will you play for?" her father asked as the pair started to walk out of the stadium and into the night

Shady looked over her shoulder at the Bakura Miners, using their celebration as fuel for the fire, and then looked up at her father with a smile, "Nar Shaddaa."

"That's my girl," her father replied.

***

Nar Shaddaa
Ten Years Later

"Hey, leave me alone!" The young Gran teenager cried out in a dark alleyway just outside the local neighborhood hangout.

"Give me your credits, now," the Rodian thug growled waving his knife around.

"I don't have anything!" the young Gran replied.

"Then I guess you'll have to pay the price," the Rodian said as he pulled his arm back to deliver a fatal blow. He lunged forward.

The Rodian's hand never made it to the Gran's face as a fist slammed into his green head knocking him sideways to the ground. The Rodian, stunned, looked up to see a rough and tumble teenage girl standing over him, fists drawn and a look that could kill.

"I think you made a big mistake," the Rodian grunted.

"No," Shady replied, "you did."

***
Tenenial Chume Hall
Hapes
Draft Day
275 ABY

"With the third pick of the 275 Elite League Limmie Draft, the Bakura Miners select..."

Shady tensed as she anticipated hearing her name. This was her moment. This was her shot. This was her chance. Bakura was a great franchise, a powerful franchise and even though she'd always dreamed of playing for Nar Shaddaa she knew the Smugglers didn't stand a chance against the Miners. Not now.

"Jolla Pic!"

Shady's fists curled in a rage like she'd never known. Her destiny, her dreams, were crushed. She pushed aside other draftees as she stormed out of the draft hall and into an empty backstage corridor. She was furious. She threw her hand back and punched a few holes in a nearby wall.

"Do you always hit walls that hard?" Kaitlyn Vehn asked with a wry smile.

"Only when I'm mad," Shady replied.

"You play that way on the pitch?" Kaitlyn asked. "You fight that ferociously when the game is on the line?"

"All the time," Shady replied "it's the only way I know how to play."

Kaitlyn smiled ever so slightly and nodded. "I see."

"You going to report me?"

Kaitlyn shook her head. " I'm going to draft you."

***
276 ABY
Galactic Cup Final
Smugglers 11, Monarchs 4

Shady was in disbelief as the burgundy and black ticker tape fell all around her. The smoke from the fireworks hung low and heavy in the air. The team swarmed the field to celebrate winning the Galactic Cup of Elite League Limmie.

She'd dreamed of this moment for so many years and to finally experience what it felt like to be at the pinnacle of the sport she loved was so surreal. Her eyes instinctively shot out to the stands to find her father. She'd purchased him tickets to the big game in the hopes that he'd come.

She saw the throng of Smuggler players part as the Galactic Cup was brought out to the stage. She reached out with a gloved hand to touch a piece of Limmie history, a piece of immortality. She stepped aside as the trophy was given to Kaitlyn Vehn and Tover Micjaa. She cheered and clapped as they lifted the trophy high above their heads.

Her attention returned once more to the stands and then she spotted him. She waved and smiled. Her father flashed her a thumbs up. Everything was fine. There he was cheering for her.

***
Present Day
Bakura
Truce Day

Shady brought her gloves up to her hands and inhaled the smell of dried nerf hide. The old ritual. She juked and danced back and forth to remain limber in the tunnel as she awaited her name to be called. She glanced down at the numerous tattoos on both arms. They all were significant. They all were reminders of the battles she'd won and lost in her life.

"Hey kiddo," a familiar voice said from behind her.

Shady spun around and found her father standing next to Mylessa McCloud.

"How'd you get down here?" Shady asked as she embraced her father tightly.

"I let him in," Mylessa said, "I didn't want your father to miss this moment."

Shady pulled away, confused. "What moment?"

"The moment your father escorts you out onto that field in front of thousands of Miners and Smugglers fans," Mylessa said.

Shady was blown away.

"Escorted by her father, pleaaaaseeee welcome two time Galactic Cup champion," the announcer began.

"and Nar Shaddaan native," that drew an entire stadium full of cheers for the crowd knew what was next.

"Left Corner Forward for the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers, Shaaaadyyyyyy Leroueeeexxxx!!"

Shady fought back tears as she stood at the edge of the tunnel. She reached out and grasped her father's hand in her own as she whispered, "This is for you. Everything I ever did, everyone I ever fought against, every battle won, every battle lost, every moment, I did it for you!"

Shady's father shook his head and replied, "No, Shady, this is for you."

The pair walked out onto the pitch to a standing ovation.

Tag: @Trieste

 

IC: Boutros Sabah
Boutros's apartment, O'Pahz, Carratos

Boutros woke with a stretch the day after the greatest game she'd played. The Patriots didn't have a chance against her she kept her mark pinned to the ground. They never got the chance to get close, it was a shutdown, the only points scored were two little bar points by the half forwards. It meant nothing compared to the twenty plus points the Pirates put up. Finally it felt like they were getting on track for the last leg of the season, the last few games before the playoffs and if they can win the next game they would have a spot nearly locked.

However that was far away from Boutros's mind. The only thing running through her mind was a meeting with a Mr. Binks. He was a lawyer, the lawyer her sister said she would call. Would she have to say everything, would she have to tell him about everything she'd done, all the crimes she committed to get her sister where she was right now? Was she over thinking it? Was she worried over nothing? Would she really know until she got there? She'd never really talked with a lawyer before, didn't know how things worked. Were they not allowed to say anything to anyone? Would they tell someone if they felt the crime was heinous enough?

Tian stirred from beside her a high pitched grumble coming from the pantoran. It was cute, made Boutros smile, it was kind, untainted by the darkness that encroaching all around her. The warmth of her brought the defender back, pulled her mind to the present, where she should be, at least for a little bit.

"What do you want for breakfast?" she asked,

Tian rolled over fully onto her side pulling the blankets up over her head.

"Just whatever I guess. Gemme five more minutes."

A little laugh left Boutros as she leaned over to kiss the top of Tian's head.

"I guess it'll be whatever we have left in the kitchen." She replied jumping out of bed. Walking out in sock covered feet the zeltron made her way over to the kitchen and began looking through the cabinets. It had been a bit since she last went to the store this whole situation had been taking over her mind, distracting her from other things. She found some baking mix and had just enough nerf milk to make some pancakes. Not the best thing in the galaxy but, it would do.

Tian padded out five minutes later much as she said. Again walking up behind Boutros and wrapping her arms around her waist and resting her head against her back.

"Well good morning sleepy head." Boutros said looking over her shoulder and down at her partner. Tian said nothing in reply she just buried her head deeper into the muscled back. "I guess you're not quite awake yet." Another light chuckle, these slow mornings were enjoyable, just letting her take her time. There was still practice today, coach didn't want anyone to get rusty.

The magenta skinned woman finished the next pancake putting it on the plate next to the pan.

"Hey," she said softly to Tian, "Could you tell coach I'm going to be late to practice."

"What's up?" The pantoran asked looking up.

"Nothing just got something to do before practice."

"You seeing someone…about your nightmares?"

"No…just something I gotta' take care of."

"Do you need me there?"

"No."

"Do you want me there?"

'Yes' the thought was only in her head for a moment before it faded away. No, she couldn't tell her where she was going, it would bring up too many questions, too many chances for the events of that night to slip. In spite of how much Boutros desperately wanted her there, wanted a kind face at her side. She couldn't risk it.

"No, I should be fine."

There was a long, silence Boutros could feel the tension in the air, in Tian, she wanted to say something, ask what was going on, and demand answers, but, she held back instead choosing to smile.

"Ok," was the only reply.

Breakfast was quiet but, not filled with tension. Tian left first, and it was just Boutros staring into her closet. She didn't have much in the way of formal wear, other than a suit she's only wore a handful of times. It wasn't her lack of clothes, it was her own nerves that kept her there. Eventually she pulled the black suit out and readied herself for the meeting with the lawyer.
___________
Law Offices, O'Pahz, Carratos

She arrived a few minutes early and checked in the receptionist. The lobby wasn't large but, it was…stately. A broad desk made of natural wood most likely from Aphran. The walls were painted in a lovely cream with the same dark wood starting at the middle and running to the floor. Boutros shuffled her feet against the light wood floor.

'Did they cut down an entire forest just to make this place.' She thought to herself. A little while longer of painful silence and she was greeted by an odd sight, a gungan in a well-tailored suit walked out of the doors just over the human receptionist's shoulder.

"Ms. Sabah?" he asked, his accent apparent, and not tempered by his time living away from his home. All Boutros could do was nod her head. "Follow me'sa." She did as she was asked and walked behind the well dressed man with long ears bound with a silver clasp at the middle of his neck. They entered a conference room with windows but, they were darkened, not allowing any natural light to enter. When the gungan closed the door it was almost like the world was shut out no noise could be heard from the outside. The defender assumed that this was to keep the conversation private. She took a seat on the far side of an elegant wood table remaining silent. "Now me'sa been informed that you'sa been a person of interest in an ongoing investigation."

"Yes, Pol Sila, I…the OSF is looking at me for that."

"Me'sa see, and what evidence do they have?"

"Just the body, and the fact that, I used to work for him, and my sister now runs the…organization he use to run."

"Hummm," the lawyer, Galo Binks, didn't take any notes, he just sat there listening. "That'sn all very circumstantial, from what me'sa know about this Sila, he was a very bad and violent man. Any of the people around him could have motive to kill him."

"But, my sister…"

"Is not you'sa, you'sa had very little to gain, you'sa left the organization, you'sa had a change of heart."

It was true but, only after…killing Pol. "In a way…I guess."

"You'sa had no motive, means, me'sa need to look at a coroner's report, and opportunity, me'sa need to read witness testimony and other evidence. However from what me'sa hearing, de Seccer's have nothing. Or they'sa be coming after you harder, asking to interview you'sa or arresting you'sa. Since they'sa haven't their'sn case is not good. If they'sa come to you again, call me'sa and me'sa bring them up on harassment. If they'sn have nothing, they'sa shouldn't be pestering you. Me'sa maken sure of that."

It all moved fast, he laid out his defense of her, without even asking if she did it or not. Didn't he have to know that.

"Aren't you going to ask if I did it?"

His face soured for just a moment.

"You'sa no guilty until proven so. Whether you'sa did so or not doesn't matter until proven in court. That'sn being said, if there's anything me'sa need to know about, you'sa should tell me now."

"What do you need to know?"

"Do you'sa have anything that could prove you were not anywhere near Sila the night he died," She just shook her head, "Anything that puts you'sa at the scene, any DNA, fingerprints?" she shrugged her shoulders, it had been over ten years, wouldn't anything like that have been washed away? Her leg began to bounce, she could recall every blow she stuck and every hit she took. Her knuckles were bleeding and her rips hurt but, she couldn't recall anything else, she didn't even remember what alley she killed him in. Time had wiped those details away. Her heart pounded in her chest. She had faced down gangs of toughs, and the Mercs on the pitch without even flinching, but, locking eyes with this thin gungan made her uneasy. Was it his slick talk, his dancing around the subject, or was it just her own guilt. Was she going to get away with this, should she?

"Ms. Sabah? You'sa listening?"

"Huh…" she replied snapping her head up.

"Is there anything else you'sa need me to know? Any evidence that proves you'sa did this crime?"

'My guilty heart.' She only thought it for a moment then just shook her head.

"Then me'sa your lawyer, my'sa retainer has been paid. This was just to get a sense of you'sa, and the case against you."

"Wait, your retainer has been paid, I…I didn't…"

"Someone else retained me'sa services for you."

Boutros was confused the feeling playing across her face, and furrowed brow."

It was only a moment's silence before Mr. Binks spoke up.

"Consider this a gift. Me'sa will defend you'sa, if the Seccer's want to take you to court. Me'sa be by your side." He gave a reassuring smile and gestured to the door. "Me'sa believe you'sa have a game to practice for."

Still a little bewildered Boutros left the office and got to practice.

However that practice didn't help them win. They fought hard, the defense held the Mets to only two points like last game against the Patriots but, this time, the offense was chained up, unable to even get a point over the bar.

It was a painful loss, and one that put them on the bubble, they had to win the next game…

But not even that was a guarantee. It seemed nothing in this galaxy was. At least Boutros's was less afraid, she had a shield, a protector. The fact said protector was a gungan was still a little strange but, as least she had some defense.

However, Boutros's heart was still uneasy, still wondering if she should tell the person closest to her about what she did.

TAG: No One

 

GM Post

As a reminder, I would appreciate your nominations for season awards in the next week.

Bonus potential this final week of the regular season for Bakura, Carratos, Coruscant, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, and Ralltiir. Who's going to the playoffs?

289 Week 9 Results
Ralltiir Starkillers at Carratos Pirates (37-33)
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Bakura Miners (16-22)
Stewjon Metropolitans at Rydonni Prime Monarchs (16-18)
Mando’ade Mercs at Chandrila Patriots (29-2)
Euceron Officers at Coruscant Senators (29-17)

Regular Season Final Standings
Skywalker Conference

• Euceron Officers [ jcgoble3, Tendra Nalo (player)] (7-2, conf. 3-1)
• Mando'ade Mercs [ Bardan_Jusik, Randy "the rancor"/Justin Pitt (sportscasters)] (6-3, conf. 3-1)
• Nar Shaddaa Smugglers [ @Vehn, Shady Lereoux (player)] (4-5, conf. 2-2)
• Carratos Pirates [ galactic-vagabond422 Mar'git "Cutty" Evers-Sark (player)] (3-6, conf. 2-2)
• Chandrila Patriots (3-6, conf. 0-4)

Solo Conference

• Rydonni Prime Monarchs [ @SWNerd11, Dawn Solo (head coach)] (6-3, conf. 2-2)
• Bakura Miners [ Trieste, Harle Quinn (player)] (4-5, conf. 3-1)
• Stewjon Metropolitans (4-5, conf. 2-2)
• Coruscant Senators [ Jedi Gunny, Christine Gamble (player)] (4-5, conf. 2-2)
• Ralltiir Starkillers [ Runjedirun, Tomas Vigo (player) & Von'kedo (player spouse)] (4-5, conf. 1-3)

Galactic Cup Playoffs
Conference Semifinals
(3) Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at (2) Mando'ade Mercs
(3) Stewjon Metropolitans at (2) Bakura Miners

Conference Finals
??? at (1) Euceron Officers
??? at (1) Rydonni Prime Monarchs

HSN Headlines

• Euceron Officers secure their first Commissioner's Trophy in Officers era
• Stewjon Metropolitans secure last Solo Conference playoff spot due to head-to-head win versus Coruscant Senators
• Game of Rivals will be replayed in Skywalker Conference Semifinal
• Carratos Pirates will have first overall draft pick thanks to loss to Ralltiir if they choose to participate in 290 Draft

TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @galactic-vagabond422 @jcgoble3 @Jedi Gunny @Runjedirun @SWNerd11 @Vehn