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

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

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  1. Bardan_Jusik Mand'alor - Manager of the EUC, SWC and Spinoffs

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Dec 14, 2009
    star 10
    IC: Beskaryc Taab
    Kamino, Waves 20, Mercs: 17. 30 seconds left.

    Taab signed heavily. He was not enjoying his trip to Kamino in the slightest. The place was so shabla wet outside and so shabla sterile inside. He shook his head, he hated this place, he hated the aiwha bait, he hated their attitudes and the way they looked at the Nulls as lab rats out on the field. He had agreed to this home and home set of friendlies as a way to pit two of the champions of "Galactic Challenges of Meshgeroya" against each other. He sighed again. It seemed so long ago that the Mercs had hoisted their trophy and accepted their 5 million credit cash reward. So much had happened since then. Taab sincerly hoped that it hadn't been the high water mark of the franchise.

    At least the game itself had been exciting. Vizsla, the Mercs new head coach, was shifting players in and out. An attempt to not only get everyone some playing time but also some rest. From what Taab could tell, training camp had been...intense. Even by Mandalorian standards. Several players had received minor injuries and were still nursing them now. Still, despite the disjointed nature of the Merc's gameplay, Taab had some reason for cautious optimism.

    The offense was working out well, though when Vau was in the game the team had trouble transitioning from defense to offense. The lad tended to hold the ball too long at times. At others he would pass it off at the first opportunity, good or bad, which led to too many turnovers. Last year's matchup against Glencross and the Miners had clearly affected him. Taab hoped he could pull himself together eventually, or else he would have a short career.

    Taab could also see that the "tension" between the starters and the backups seemed to have faded quite a bit. He had heard that the Hanson brothers had threatened to clobber anyone who called them team aruetii any longer. The mando'ade on the team seemed to have respected that the Hansons were willing to stand up for their non mandalorian "brothers and sisters" and a truce of sorts was finally struck. Between that and the masochistic training camp the team had to endure, they had coalesced into something better than they had last year.

    But now the game was down to its last thirty seconds and things didn't look good with the ball deep in the Mercs zone. Most of the reserves were in now, while the starters were regulated to watching the matchup. But a number of the Mercs defenders had been starters on the Chiefs last season, and they played like it. Though they had the ball, the Waves weren't trying to score. Instead they were playing keep away with it, trying to run out the clock The ball swung from the left to the right side of the field, as Skirata shifted along with it in the net. But as the swung back again K'Karlson leveled the Waves half forward (a bothan whose name Taab couldn't recall) and the ball skipped away.

    Taab listened for a penalty whistle. But the refs had swallowed their whistles with only, Taab checked the clock, 24 seconds to go. He rose out of his seat as Jase Hanson moved back and fought for the possession amongst a throng of Waves offensive players. Finally he headed the ball out towards his brother Jett who managed to get the ball quickly up to midfield. 17 seconds left and now Vau receieved the ball, nearly boxing out his team mate Ogeeogilthrop in his rush to take part in the late game heroics that were underway. He launched the ball forward, overthrowing Daryc and the other half forwards. The ball hit the ground before bouncing high into the air. Taab was surprised that the ball wasn't intercepted at that point, but fortune was with them. Andres Fortune. He rushed under the ball and caught it on the bounce, evading the Waves defenders who were converging on him.

    The kid was fast, with a strong arm and a nose for being in the right place at the right time. Here he was proving all of that. 8 seconds left and Fortune was all alone in the middle, he had only the goaltender, a large albino wookiee to beat. He spun and jinked hard left before coming back right. The Waves goaltender bit hard on the fake and was completely out of position. Taab could see Fortune smile as he cocked his arm back and flung the ball toward the back of the net, looking to tie the game.

    The ball rocketed through the air, three seconds, two seconds, one sec ...CLANG! The ball had sailed high and hit the bar. It ricocheted out into the hands of Jeem Daryc, but then the horn sounded. It was the end of the match. Daryc flung the ball high into the air in frustration while Fortune fell to his knees. He had been so certain the ball was going to go in.




    IC: Ryi Kor'le
    Visitors locker room, kamino waves, following a 20-17 friendly loss.

    Ryi smacked her head against her locker door, denting it slightly. "Ow!" She should have known better than to do that without her buy'ce on. But the mando'ade had left all of their beskar'gam back on Mandalore for this game. This wasn't to be an extended stay, just the trip here, play the match and then back home. So the players had decided to leave the heavy gear back home and let the beskar blacksmiths have at them, adding improvements and pounding out old dents. Instead they had brough rain gear, to help keep them dry during the short time they would be outside. At least the Kaminoans had the sense to play their meshgeroya games inside a dome. She looked around wondering if anyone had seen her, but they were too busy watching Steen Hanson do the same thing. Blood trickled down the side of his nose from a small cut on his forehead, but he didn't seem to care. They were a competitive bunch, the Hanson brothers, and Ryi had noticed that when Coach would put one of them in, he put all three in. Ryi for her part was glad to have them on the team, and she was sure they would soon be fan favorites back on manda'yaim.

    Still it was frustrating for her, and for everyone else, to have lost this friendly in the way they had. Sure it didn't count in the standings, but this team had to remember how to win again after a 1-6 season the year before. They had the pieces here, that much even she could see. But they needed something to bring them all togther...






    IC: Beskaryc Taab
    Landing Platform, Tipoca City

    The rain slashed down, bouncing off of Taab's armor and forming rivulets of water that flowed across his T-Visor. It was an hour after the game and the Mercs were headed home and he still hated this shabla place. He looked around, except for Vizsla he was the only team member in armor. Everyone else was wearing rain ponchos as they approached the luxery shuttle that would bring them back to manda'yaim. Thank the manda this trip was almost over, after he boarded that shuttle he would never have to step foot on this water logged rock again. At least not if he if he could help it. The freight droids were loading the team's baggage aboard when a Kaminoan steward apprached Taab. "You have a message. inside."

    "Who is it, what do they want?"

    "I don't have that information, you have a message, inside."

    Taab looked up into the long necked creature's blue eyes. A laborer. Taab sighed. Yet another reason to hate this world. A world led by a culture that determined one's birthright by the color of their eyes. To a Mandalorian, a culture that determined ones worth by their actions, it was an affront to honor and the dignity of sentients. Still, it wasn't his world, and with any luck he would soon be off of it, never to return.

    He waved his hand towards the hatchway that led back inside the terminal. "Very well, take me there." He nodded back to Coach Vizsla and commed him quietly over his buy'ce "Someone is calling for me. Probably Vhett from Keldabe. I will be out soon."

    "Roger that." came back as the only reply. Taab followed the lower caste aiwha-bait back to the terminal hatchway. When they reached it, she slowly started to enter the access code as Taab found himself waiting in a puddle of rainwater. He shifted from foot to foot. He couldn't feel the water of course through his beskar boots, but he felt tainted by the water and by this world as he stood ankle deep in it's rainwater. The code entered and accepted the hatchway slid upwards and Taab stepped forward not waiting any longer for the slow, dim-witted Kaminoan to lead the way. What he was met with left his blood run cold.

    Over 100 soldiers of various size and species greeted him, all with blaster rifles pointed at him. The sound of a companies worth of blaster safeties being clicked off simultaneously penetrated his buy'ce. Shab. One of the upper class grey eyes approached him now as the hatchway closed behind him. "Beskaryc Taab," its silky smooth voice announced. "You are under arrest. Charged with the death of We Zaun, a Kaminoan citizen."

    Taab stepped back in disbelief. We Zaun, the administrator who had headed up the life prolongation project for the Nulls? Taab had severed the creatures head with a lightsaber for holding back on him and keeping copies of the research required to help the Nulls. Taab had suspected that the aiwha-bait would have used that data to try to create more Fett clones, and in order to forstall that, he had executed the being and after he had secured the cure for the Nulls aging problem, destroyed all the records of the secret project. He had then thrown the body into the sea where he assumed it would never be found. It had been several years now since that incident and Taab felt he was free and clear on this particular "transgression". Apparently he was wrong.

    He looked at his opposition. If he could fight his way to the shuttle he could escape. He shouted out to the aiwha bait and his soldiers, an attempt to distract them before he made a break for it. "I'm being charged with a crime?" He took a step towards the grey eye. "Is that what this is, I'm being charged with a crime?" He slowly raised his right arm, preparing to use the flame projector attached to his gauntlet there. "This is funny, that's what this is." He looked right into the grey eyes of the head aiwha bait. "I'm going to rip those eyes out and..." but he was cut off as the hatch opened again.

    Through the open doorway Taab could see that the team shuttle and the team had also been surrounded by troops and several gunships hovered nearby. There was no getting out of this. Not yet ayway. He could see that many of the Mercs players wanted to fight, even the Hansons looked like they wanted to hit somebody. But the Mercs hadn't brought along their armor or weapons. They would be slaughtered if Taab and Vizsla tried to fight their way out of this.

    He dropped his arms to his side and commed Vizsla. "Stand down, take care of the team." Vizsla looked as though he wanted to respond, but he didn't. He simply nodded and told the players to begin boarding the shuttle. Taab removed his buy'ce, and looked at it, rolling it over several times in his hands. Then he shrugged off his jetpack and started to remove his armor plates from his undersuit. He called out. "Kor'le, see that these get to where they belong." Ryi jogged over and caught the buy'ce as he tossed it to her and then began to collect his armor and weapons from where he had placed them on the cold, hard floor.

    The grey eye had watched this all and knew that he had won. He allowed for Ryi to take Taab's belongings. When they had finished and Taab was down to his undersuit the grey eye looked to the Company commander and stated simply. "Take him away."






    IC: Ryi Kor'le
    Landing Platform, after Taab's arrest.

    Ryi couldn't believe it. As if the team hadn't seen enough organizational upheaval, now the owner had been arrested. For murder. She boarded the shuttle under armed guard, carrying with her all of Taab's beskar'gam and weaponry. Taking her seat, she placed it all on the unoccupied seat next to her. All but the buy'ce, that she held onto, turning it over and over again in her hands.

    The team was quiet, even the Nulls. No one knew what to say or do. But she could tell they felt helpless. It was a feeling she shared with them all. This was the last thing any of them ever expected to have happen to them. Especially on a road trip. She could see that Coach Vizsla was already on the comm system, probably informing Vhett of the events that had just occured. Hopefully they would have some sort of plan to get Taab back soon. She wasn't his biggest fan, in fact the two had butted buckets more often than not in the past, but he was still the boss. They would have to do something, wouldn't they?

    The ship took off and clawed its way towards open space. Looking out the rain streaked transparisteel window, Ryi could see a pair of Kaminoan fighters, centuries old E-Wings, take a position off of the shuttle's starboard side. They would be ensuring they were headed out of system she was sure. The team never should have started using this luxery shuttle. If they had used armed gunships as team transports they might have had a chance. Of course if they had worn their beskar'gam it would have helped to even the odds as well. She leaned forward in her seat and stared into the T-Visor of Taab's buy'ce as she cradled it in her arms. What did he mean when he told her to get it to where it belongs she wondered. It was Taab's beskar'gam, his "iron skin", and it belonged to no one but him. Then it dawned on her just what Taab had meant. It meant that she would be coming back to Kamino, and that she would see Taab again, soon.

    TAG: No one

    [IMG]
    Last edited by Bardan_Jusik, Jan 21, 2013
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  2. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    IC: Gark S’rily
    Bothancave, Fighting Area. Several days before the Coruscant Limmie match

    “Try it again,” Black Gundark said, shaking her head. Gark lifted himself off the floor once more. This training phase was already proving to be harder than he had expected, and he was only five minutes in. He had been working out for quite a while; several years, in fact. Back when the older Coruscant teams would do their weekly runs, he was at the front of the line, bulldozing ahead with his players. But that was nothing compared to this. Back then, his legs wouldn’t exactly like what he was doing, but they didn’t exactly hit back. The Hapan across from him, curly red hair and all, was handing his ass to him with ease. Gark watched her eyes as she stared him down once more; this woman was all business.

    “Once more,” she said in that same iron voice. Gark sighed and put his fists up once again. What she had him doing here was to coordinate his punches so that if one didn’t land, he still had a blow coming in from the other angle without leaving him open to a counter-attack. Gark wasn’t sure how this was possible, frankly, but with this woman anything seemed possible. At the beginning of the training, she had just let him try to knock her to the ground. It had looked promising early on, as he was making her back up several steps by mixing up his strikes. That lasted for all of five seconds, before she dropped to the floor and cut his legs out from under him. She had then proceeded to put him in a headlock, something that Gark had never had done before to him. It had been painful, to say the least. Hopefully she wouldn’t do that again.

    Letting out a grunt, Gark shot forwards, bringing his left fist out as he bent over to that side. In theory, this would give his right jab more momentum, while also keeping him safe from a left-handed strike from his opponent. That was the idea, anyways, because he compensated too much and found himself losing his balance. Black Gundark simply raised her hand to deflect his jab and then pushed him over onto the floor once more.

    “You need to stay on your feet,” she quipped.

    “You make it look so easy,” Gark said as he once again got up off the floor.

    “I’ve had a few more training hours in than you,” the Hapan replied curtly. “If you expected this was going to be easy, think again.”

    “You know, I never thought any of this was going to be necessary,” Gark said as he put his fists up once again.

    “Welcome to the world of hand-to-hand combat,” she said back. “This is only the beginning.”

    Gark groaned. That’s what he was afraid of. This time the Hapan came forward, swinging her arm in an uppercut position. Gark moved to intercept it with his arm, but he didn’t see her leg coming out. He had no way to react as he was nailed in the head and spiraled down onto the hard ground once again. A sharp pain shot through his skull, and he put a hand on his face to make sure that he wasn’t bleeding.

    “Probably shouldn’t have come in with the full kick,” Black Gundark said, extending her hand down to the Bothan. “I’m sorry about that. Training instincts.” She helped Gark to his feet. “How do you feel?”

    “Well, other than being kicked in the head . . .” Gark said snidely.

    “I’ll teach you that move eventually,” the Hapan replied. “I’ve always found it to be good against your typical goons. Keeps them occupied so you can strike with your feet. Anyways, I think we should take a break.”

    “Just a break?” Gark asked, winded.

    “If you want to get good at this, you need to practice for hours every day until things become second-nature,” she replied. “And, as of now, I’m forced to teach you these moves, so what I say goes.”

    “Whatever you say,” Gark said, an air of angst in his voice. He just wasn’t in good enough shape for this.

    “Let’s take lunch,” she said back. With this, the two walked back to a small table hidden amongst all of Plyer’s gadgets. The Whipid was working on the other end of the room, tinkering once again with one of his many electronics. Gark had to admit; that guy could get work at any large manufacturing firm, yet he decided instead to help outfit this entire operation. He had to commend the Whipid for his motivation to stick with such an uneasy task and fully embrace it like he had.

    Sitting at the table was Dun Dun Duman. The man’s meaty neck turned around to look as the two came up. “You were putting a smackdown out there,” he said, snorting as he said this.

    “Gee, thanks,” Gark said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t need more criticism.

    “That’s not the point,” Black Gundark said, sitting down at the table. Dun Dun slid her a sandwich, which she bit into vigorously. Gark sat down on the end of the table, and Dun Dun slid him a sandwich as well. Gark pointed at the sandwich, giving the explosions expert a “what’s this?” look.

    “Meat,” he said. Gark shrugged and picked up the sandwich. He took a bite. It actually wasn’t bad.

    “Anyways, I gotta get out of here,” Dun Dun finally said to break the silence. “You two enjoy your training sessions.” The large man got out of his seat and walked off.

    Gark stared at the Hapan at the other end of the table as he ate. She didn’t seem to care about his presence, instead focusing intently on the sandwich in her hands. Finally, Gark decided to break the silence. “You never told me your real name,” he said. As soon as he said it, he wanted to kick himself. It wasn’t exactly a good conversation-starter, especially for someone he didn’t really know.

    “I told you it’s not important,” she replied, still not looking back at him.

    “You seem troubled,” Gark said.

    “Never mind anything,” she said. It was obvious that she was irritated.

    “I’m . . . not trying to be pushy,” Gark finally said.

    “I know,” Black Gundark said. “I know. It’s . . . complicated . . .”

    “I have time,” Gark said. “I’d rather let you vent this way rather than letting you kick me in the head again . . .”

    “Look, I didn’t have an easy childhood,” the Hapan said. “I was an orphan by age 4. My parents died mysteriously, and at that age I didn’t understand what had happened. As I grew up, I felt so . . . powerless, almost like I didn’t really matter. So one day, I was walking by a dojo, and there was a sign out in front saying that self-esteem was one of their skills. I thought they were crazy at first, but I went in anyways . . . the dojo master took me in and began to train me in martial arts. I learned respect for others, but also to trust myself. In a few months, I was his best student, picking things up easily and exceling so much that the other students started to almost hate me for my brilliance. But he was more than just a teacher; he was my mentor, and a father-figure for me. He made me feel wanted once again . . . and I thought it would last forever.

    I was always sleeping in the back of the dojo, in a spare room that he had. I shared it with his daughter, who was my best friend and classmate in school and at the dojo. We were in real tight together. Anyways, she had gone to clean out to dojo floor, because it was her turn to do so, so I was all alone. I awoke after hearing some shouting, and then there was some blaster fire. I shot out of bed and ran to check on everyone; there she was, face-down on the floor. His body was slumped next to it, and the perpetrators were standing over them with a blaster in hand. Stupidly, I rushed forwards and tried to execute what the dojo master had taught me the day before about disarming an enemy. But one of them with the gunman sent me sprawling with one kick, and I was out cold for at least ten minutes. When I finally awoke, the murderers were gone. It turns out that they were there to settle some perceived debt . . . but I knew that it was murder.

    I got angry. My best friend and her father were both dead, and I had been powerless to stop them. So I was forced to keep wandering. My life spiraled out of control for a few months; I lived on the streets once again, stealing food when I could and generally being a street tough. But I always had martial arts, and I finally figured out that those were the way I could get my life back under control. So I’ve devoted the last dozen years of my life intensively studying to fight. Whenever I lost my way, I would go somewhere quiet and just start attacking a wall in an alley like it was a real person. I learned to improvise on the fly, and every other study center I went to I was quickly ushered out the door because I was just too good. It took me a long time to find a teacher who could not only teach me new techniques, but to also deal with my temper. I was a firebrand . . . and I still am . . . but they all, all four of them, helped me mold my anger into a new fighting style. Which is what I’m partially teaching you. Obviously, you need to find your own path . . .”

    “Did you ever find them?” Gark asked, taking another bite of his sandwich.

    “Oh yes, I found them,” the Hapan said. She looked up from her food, but was staring at a far-away wall. “I found them. They laughed when I came in, knew who I was and how I had failed. But they were wrong. With my martial arts skills, I was stronger than them. I took my knife . . . and slit their throats, each and every one of them . . . with no remorse, just like they had done to me. And when their bodies were on the floor, I expected to feel some sense of higher purpose. I had completed my mission to extract vengeance for what they had done . . . but I was forced to flee because I had just committed murder myself. Ever since then, I’ve been on the run. X brought me in because he knew that I could be trusted to keep you safe from harm . . .”

    “So you’re doing this to clear your name,” Gark surmised.

    “Basically, yes,” she said. “I don’t want to keep running anymore. I need to stand and fight, and this is what I am choosing to do. This is my ground to keep.”

    “I’m sorry to hear that,” Gark said. “I know what it feels like to not have any direction, to feel like no one really cares.”

    “I know,” she said, finishing her sandwich with one major bite. “I know you do. And that’s why you need to train yourself. To make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

    “I think I understand now,” Gark said. “You help me, and then you can rectify the mistakes from your past . . .”

    The Hapan just nodded. “Now you know,” she said, standing up. Gark stood as well, finishing off his food as well. “The name’s Patrovish. Nat’alia Patrovish.” Then she walked away, leaving Gark all alone at the table. On one hand, he had gotten the answer to his query, but on the other hand he found someone else like him who had been through the grinder at least once in their life. He wasn’t alone in this operation in that regard. And he was sure that it was going to come up again in the fight against Mornd; he just wasn’t sure when that would happen, and if he would be prepared when it did.

    TAG: No One
  3. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    --Player Transaction Wire--
    Euceron Storm
    • Unia Yistral (Zabrak, Female, Left Corner Back, University of Ord Mantell, undrafted rookie) signed to one-year contract


    Elite League offices, Coruscant

    "Miss Gondorf to see you."

    "Send her in," Commissioner Kayl'hen said.

    "We have a problem," Gondorf said after the door slid shut behind her, "Beskaryc Taab just got arrested for murder on Kamino."

    The Bothan's attention, formerly on her datapad, was now fully on the barrister. "Really?"

    "Yes, arrested him after their friendly with the Waves. The team was allowed to leave, but they've detained Taab. The details are scarce, but we've had confirmations from multiple sources."

    No Taab to deal with? I don't know if I'd classify that as a problem, Kayl'hen thought, "Set up a holoconference with Vhett. This league cannot have an owner under indictment during season play. If they can't resolve this quickly, then we need to find out if Taab did any contingency planning."

    "Are you kidding? He's a Mandalorian. His contingency plan is a flamethrower strapped to his arm," Gondorf scoffed.

    "He's a successful being of business," Kayl'hen replied, "He understands you need a succession plan."

    "Somehow I don't think he'd be pleased that I'm hashing this out with his ex-wife."

    "He should have thought about that before he hired her," the Bothan replied.

    Tag: @Bardan_Jusik @CPL_Macja
    Bardan_Jusik likes this.
  4. jcgoble3 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 7, 2010
    star 4
    OOC: Internal moves to go with the free agent signing:

    --Player Transaction Wire--
    Euceron Storm
    • Chenkabukk (Wookiee, Male, Goalkeeper) signed to four-year draft contract
    • Sanyr Ralders (Human, Male, Midfielder) signed to four-year draft contract
    • Bailey Walker (Human, Male, Right Corner Back) signed to four-year draft contract
    • Shanica Terrvold (Human, Female, Left Corner Back) called up from Commenor Gundarks
    • Gorrkabukk (Wookiee, Male, Left Corner Back) placed on Reserve/Non-Limmie Injury list
    • Tria Tryvold (Human, Female, Left Half Back) called up from Commenor Gundarks
    • Jonica Sarturus (Human, Male, Right Half Forward) called up from Commenor Gundarks
    Explanation of the Gorrkabukk move: Essentially, see this, specifically the "Non-Football Injury" section. For our purposes, if he is not activated before the first regular-season game, he must sit out the first three weeks, then the windows to begin practicing and activate him to the roster are one week each.
  5. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    IC: Sydney Talon
    Fleetfire Zarmer offices, Salis D'aar, Bakura

    "Sydney T! What up my man!" T.K. said as he sauntered into Sydney's office. He bro hugged the attorney, who returned the embrace with an equivalent amount of affection, "I was so glad to get your comm. I was on the Gold Beaches of Corellia. You ever been there?"

    "Never, T.K.," Sydney said as he took a seat in one of his chairs across from T.K. on the couch.

    "Next year I'll let you know when I'm going, because you gotta do it right, man," T.K. said, "And by right, I mean get a Twi'lek, a Zeltron, and a Rodian because let me tell you--you put all three of them together and they know how to par-tay Sydney. I mean they know how to get down."

    "I'll take your word for it," Sydney said with a smirk. Well, winning a Galactic Cup hadn't changed T.K. too much. The two of them had known each other for some time. Sydney had performed some legal services for T.K. a while back and the limmie player was incredibly grateful. But, more than that, Sydney enjoyed T.K.'s company...in moderation. "So, how's life as a champion been? I'm guessing awesome will probably be pretty close to the mark."

    "Life is good!" Sydney said, "I took the Galactic Cup to Cloud City and partied it up hard. That thing attracts the females of every species, let me tell you. It's like the great aphrodisiac. But besides that, I'm digging me some therapy."

    "Therapy?" Sydney said, "You?"

    "Oh yeah man. This therapy thing is great. We just sit around and talk about me all day. And at the end of it I feel great. Sometimes Dr. C gives me some homework or something like that and I do it maybe half the time. Like I skip it if there's a good holodrama on or I have to make toast, but you know, 40% of the time I do it."

    "Well, good for you?"

    "No, let me tell you what's good. It's good that you commed me, Sydney," T.K. said leaning in, "I've got some salary negotiations with the Miners. Cundertol's being a frakker about it. I figured you could maybe go talk to him for me, get me a good deal."

    "T.K., you do know that we represent the Miners now?" Sydney asked, "That I represent the Miners, right?"

    T.K. gave Sydney a look. "What now?"

    "I'm the Miners' attorney. And Cundertol asked me to talk to you," Sydney said, "about your contract."

    The defender sat back and put a hand over his eyes. "Oh this can't be happening. You're my man Sydney! What am I gonna do now?"

    "Look, T.K., I've looked at the deal. Three years, two million credits. It's a good deal. If I wasn't representing the Miners I'd tell you to sign it. Honest to Maker," Sydney said.

    "I just won a championship," T.K. said, standing up and getting a little hot under the color, "I'm a cham-pi-on. That's when you get the big bucks. The payola. The moolah. I deserve it. Cundertol knows it, you know it, I know it. We all know it. So why's he cheaping it out on me?"

    "T.K.--we're getting close to training camp. What happens if you hold out and this falls apart? You think another Elite League team's going to sign you so close to the start of the season? You'll be lucky if you're in the Premier League. And yeah, someone might pay you big bucks, but you're going to be in the Premier League or the GCLA. Do you want that, T.K.?"

    "So I should just sit here and take this?" T.K. said.

    "No, you should sign and know you're seeing a 75% pay increase over your rookie contract. And if anybody outside this room finds out that you turned that down, your reputation is going to tank, especially here on Bakura. Two million credits is more than the average family makes in two decades and then some on this planet. You think people are gonna like hearing about you holding out for what, a million more credits?" Sydney said, challenging T.K., "Listen, I know you T.K. I would not sell a bad deal to you like this. And I know that you've wanted to be a Miner your entire life. This deal makes it happen. And it's a three year deal. You wow the pants off the league and you're going to see more than this when it expires, I guarantee it."

    T.K. didn't say anything, but looked around Sydney's office as he thought. "You promise it's a good deal?"

    "You know Cundertol. This is the deal, it's the best you're going to get," Sydney said.

    T.K. sighed. "Where do I sign?"



    After T.K. left, Sydney went out to Mara. "Tell Cundertol T.K.'s signed. Have you gotten hold of Andersen?"

    "She's refusing to come in," Mara said.

    "Have you been talking to her agent?"

    "Yes. Some slick Nemoidian."

    "Tell whoever it is that I want to get Andersen signed to a memorandum of understanding. Tell her we're not negotiating if she doesn't sign so she practices at training camp. And if they even think about not signing, remind them that Andersen needs Rodders and Stormborn a hell of a lot more than they need her," Sydney instructed.

    "I'm liking this sports management business," Mara said, "Can I fire someone too?"

    "No."

    "But it's all I've ever wanted!" Mara called after Sydney.



    The Inky Raven Pub, Salis D'aar, Bakura

    Sydney slipped through the old wooden door in what was for him incredible casual attire: a collared shirt with an open top two buttons, a pair of slacks, and an olive jacket. Even so, he still looked good in it. And besides, Sydney wasn't looking to impress anyone here. He didn't need to.

    "Hey Sydney," the bartender said as Talon pulled up a barstool. Without waiting for an order, the tender poured a beer for Sydney.

    "Hey Yeorg," Sydney replied. The attorney slid his credit card across the bar in exchange as collateral for his tab. He didn't have to because not only was his credit good here, they trusted him. Sydney Talon had never skipped out on a charge at the Inky Raven and he never skimped on the tip. Even when he'd been in law school, he'd tipped well. If a bunch of beings who showed up in a bar could ever be a family, Sydney was part of one at the Inky Raven.

    "Welcome back to BBC Sports, coming to you live from Hapes for Miners/C-Bucs," was the audio that could be heard in every corner of the bar. Like so many pubs and taverns across Bakura, when the Miners game was on, that was the focus of life. You didn't show up at a public house on Bakura during the Miner game looking for quiet and good conversation. You came looking for the game.

    "Having something to eat today?" Yeorg asked.

    "Tell the kitchen I'm hungry and it's dealer's choice," Sydney replied. He never went wrong at the Inky Raven. It was pub food so it wasn't particularly healthy, but it was good and there'd be meat. It was the fare he'd been raised on. It was food that he intimately associated with watching a limmie game, especially a Miners game. And it was always hot and tasty on a cold rainy day and heaven knew there were enough of those on Bakura.

    "You go it," Yeorg said. He leaned in across the bar. "Hey, heard a rumor a little while ago. Word is you got the Miners for a client."

    "Between you and me?" Sydney said, low and confidential, "The word would be right."

    Yeorg whistled appreciatively. "Well I guess we know where you'll be for all the home games this year. Though if you've got a spare ticket..."

    "What? And deprive this lot of your cheery disposition on game day when this place is packed and rowdy?" Sydney said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, "And when they're drunk and tipping well?"

    Yeorg laughed. "Only you tip better when you're drunk Sydney."

    "And here we go, the first game of 272 for the defending Galactic Cup champion Bakura Miners has begun," Aerax Skytrayn said.

    Sydney sat back to enjoy the game, but somehow he felt that this season was going to be much different than any he'd ever experienced.



    "...and the big changes up front for the Miners have clearly shown on the scoreboard today. With a revamped half forward line centered by Landa with Morlan and Alesh on the wings and Webb filling in for Andersen who has not yet officially signed with the Miners, Stormborn and Rodders have been blanketed by the C-Bucs and their scoring output has suffered. On the bright side, I think we're seeing encouraging things out of Jorpik here late in the game," Skytrayn said.

    "I've got to agree with you there. Jorpik is looking like he could be a long term solution at goal, which Cephala was not," Lun agreed.

    Sydney just crossed his arms. It wasn't a train wreck of a game, but the C-Bucs weren't that good. Not beating defending Galactic Cup champions good. It was frustrating. Andersen, a Hapan herself, had her knickers in a twist about her salary and he didn't have the personal connection he had with T.K. that would seal with deal on its own. But he had to get it done and fast, before the regular season got any closer. Speaking purely as a fan, Sydney didn't think the Miners could afford to go without Andersen this season. If they were going to avoid pulling a Smugglers when it came to championships, Andersen was part of that.

    Then again, Sydney Talon loved a challenge.

    Tag: Nobody
  6. Vehn Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 14, 2009
    star 4


    IC: Meredith Chambers

    Six Boroughs Stadium, Friendly Game, Druckenwell vs. Nar Shaddaa

    Chambers leaped, ate dirt and grass, and missed another bolo-ball that flew past her for one point.

    “Son of a—“ the crowd roared cutting off her expletive.

    Druckenwell had come out hot, they always did, in their annual match ups with the Smugglers. In fact, ever since the front office had thought about holding a friendly match against a Premiere League team, the Smugglers had lost every game. The Marksmen had their bigger brother’s number. Maybe that was fine with most people. Maybe the game was meaningless, a waste of time, only there to give the Smugglers coaches a tighter look at the depth chart, but Chambers took the game personally even though the score had gotten way out of hand.

    She punted the ball back into play and watched in disgust as Vic McTodd, the Amaran rookie, was harassed by Druckenwell’s defense and turned the ball over. Now they were driving back toward her, hard, fast, and deliberate. She knew why the Marksmen were playing so viciously. They wanted to test the great Meredith Chambers. See if she still had it.

    Frak them, Chambers thought as Ike Tullo, her protector, a kid in training, whiffed on a tackle and allowed the Marksmen into the killing zone. Chambers tensed, readied her body, read the attacker. Felt out his strategy. She had seen this kind of attack before and anticipated the motions. A cross, a double-dribble, then the recoil. Yeah, she had this guy right where she wanted him.

    Swish, the shot swirled past and sliced right into the net. Another missed opportunity in a disappointing game full of them.

    Chambers bent over and caught her breath. The defense came trotting over. There was concern in their eyes, worry.

    “You okay, boss?” Sasha Luy’kin, Chambers right hand gal, asked.

    “Yeah, fine, just pissed off,” Chambers replied.

    “Sorry about that missed tackle,” Tullo offered.

    Meredith shook her head. “Forget it. We’ve got a lot of work to do when this game is over.”

    The defense had seen several new faces join its ranks following last year’s unimpressive effort known by the Smuggler faithful as ‘the swinging gate’ defense. Yeah, they had sucked last year, and not even Chambers could’ve changed that. Tullo was a rookie playing corner back, Autumn Graves, usually found on the offensive side of the field, had been called upon to plug the hole at full back, and George Edwards, last year’s draft choice, still seemed lost. That wasn’t good.

    The veterans in the unit were Luy’kin, Razyr, Mintos, and they seemed sluggish as well.

    By the time the whistle blew signaling the end of the game, everyone, including Chambers, was relieved. She felt so tired, even though she had been conditioning herself for quite some time. Maybe she had lost a step. After all, this was her 11th year in the league. Most players never seemed to make it that far. But she had a goal of being a mainstay for the franchise, thick and thin, victory and defeat, yeah, a solid day’s work despite the loss.

    “You slowing down on us?” Defensive coordinator Abbey called out.

    Meredith vigorously shook her head.

    “Sure?”

    “Would I tell you if I was?” Chambers shot back.

    “No,” Abbey admitted, “but then I could just replace you with that young rook we drafted.”

    “You do that,” Chambers said, “but we’ll see if you ever sniff another Cup again.”

    Abbey smiled, saw that fire in Chambers eyes. Yeah Chamber still had it, whatever it was.

    “Go shower up,” Abbey said.

    “My favorite part of the day,” Chambers replied as she headed off to wash off the stench of defeat.
    Last edited by Liam_Vehn, Jan 21, 2013
  7. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    IC: Gark S’rily
    Kalbukk Stadium, Kashyyyk

    The rain was coming down in sheets at Kalbukk Stadium, so much so that the wind was even carrying it horizontally sometimes. Out on the field, the players looked miserable. The Kashykkk Rangers, once again an independent team after the folding of the Nadiem Chiefs and the termination of their development contract, once again were ready to take on all comers, and the Coruscant Senators had stepped into the void once again to fill that first spot. It had been a natural fit for both teams; the Senators wanted to play a road friendly in order to get everything settled out before the beginning of the season, and the Rangers wanted a big-time opponent to get crowds re-energized in their franchise. What a way to start off, at least on paper.

    The reason Gark had pulled the trigger, so to speak, on this deal was simple: it was the Kashyyyk Rangers. Earlier in the decade, this had been the Elite League rivalry. The Senators-Rangers tilt had not only decided two Galactic Cup Finals, but had also dogged into a classic Quarterfinal playoff game and some hard-hitting regular season matchups. Although it wasn’t exactly a rivalry on the books like the Rim War or the rivalry with Bakura for the Senators, the Rangers were always a prime opponent. Now that they were once more available for friendly games, Gark had taken the chance and signed up for this game. The Senators were going to get decent pay out of this, but it was more of a training aid to get him back in shape at the high-league level. The last game he had coached had been in the Inner Rim Limmie League, a much lower-tier pro league than this was, and thus he needed a chance to get back into the game.

    Despite the rain, his players had been doing well. The Rangers, led by former captain (and former Thyferra teammate for some Senators players) Nauranta, kept using their trademark power offense to try and break the Senators back line. Gark obliged, keeping his more powerful defenders out on the pitch to keep up. But that wasn’t the whole point of this game; he had made it a priority to rotate his players judiciously in this one. There was really no point in going for the win; if they won, great, but what he wanted to see was how the players responded when they returned to the competitive pitch. He was testing out his different lines, swapping his forwards every few minutes to keep them fresh but also to see how they played. In training camp, he hadn’t been too worried about the starters, so he was instead watching the backups with scrutiny. Most of the backups were Thyferra products, and thus only had one or two seasons in the Elite League under their belts. They certainly had talent; whether this would translate into ELL success, that was the key.

    By halftime, the game was relatively close at 13-9 Senators. Gark had determined to keep his rotation intact, making sure that everyone got to play. The only major change for the second half was to take starting goalie Jayla Leed out and give backup Venn Sto some action in goal. The veteran Shistavanen was going to be a valuable asset come the regular season, especially if Leed couldn’t keep a firm grip on her starting job or got injured.

    “Why does it always rain here?” Polis Vayne muttered as the team left the locker room to get back out onto the field. His gray away jersey was already splattered with mud from the ground.

    A charge by the Wookiees opened up the half. Nauranta took a pass, and sidestepping backup Half Back Ortho Dyhon, took a shot on goal. But Sto stopped it, causing the ball to fly towards Sheila Nightshade. The backup corner back tossed it up the field to the middies. Alysha Romax caught the ball, and faking an outlet back to Saram Golyxi, the Center Half Back, she passed it across to #2 overall draft pick Demetra Silkins. Demetra hadn’t done a lot so far in this game, as was to be expected. Her last game had been an All-Star game for her league, but there was still a large gap in talent between the Den10 and a friendly between teams from the top 2 leagues in the galaxy. But this was her element; offense had been her trademark in college, and Gark was interested in seeing what she could do.

    She faked a pass over to the front line, and then foolishly ran forwards to take the ball into the Front 6. Gark groaned; against Wookiees, that was just inviting them to hit you hard in the noggin. But Demetra showed off her speed as well. She beat out the Center Half Back Trandoshan in a footrace, dodged around one of the corner backs, and then fed the ball over to Moen Heatly. Heatly, a wily veteran, found himself cornered by two Wookiees; a double team. But he had seen this defense before. Without thinking, he bounced the ball on the soft ground to Polis. The ball didn’t really bounce, but Polis was able to field it cleanly. He then beat Izzie, the long-time Rangers goalie, with a clean shot to the upper right of the net.

    By the time the game was over, it was Coruscant 23, Rangers 10. A solid victory in a friendly, but Gark still wasn’t sure what lay ahead in the regular season. Winning a friendly did not necessarily mean a good season; his team still had some things to work on. After finishing the post-game pleasantries, the Senators made sure to rush back to their locker room to get out of the rain. Once there, they seemed content with their performance overall. It wasn’t bad when they came out this way and pasted an old rival on their home turf. Sure it didn’t count for much in the stat book, but it meant a lot to the older players, those who had been victims of several major Rangers victories earlier in the last decade that had cost the Senators quite a bit. Dirxx, Shayt, Shev, Dilfy, Venn, Cam, Polis, Moen, Syprul . . . they all remembered those bitter defeats, meaning that this win was a step forwards. Now they had to move on to the Vandelhelm Jets . . . they had a score to settle there . . .

    As he poured over the stat sheet, Gark thought about his different personnel groups. The goalies had been effective; although she had given up 9 points in the first half, Leed had looked decent in goal. Hopefully she would get it in gear this season. Sto had looked amazing, giving up a single bar point in thirty minutes, meaning that he had a solid backup if he needed one down the road. The starting Front 6 had done their job, scoring quite a few points. The backup forwards had done alright; nothing spectacular, but Gark didn’t expect them to do a ton. He wanted to have them as a change-of-pace group, and that’s what they had done in the game. The Back 6 lines had been effective. As usual, the veterans had known their gaps to fill, and the younger bucks like Dyhon and Dumerville were learning those nuances. This brought him to the midfield, the biggest question mark coming into this season for him. Izzi Polakaya had done her job defensively . . . at least as well as you could against walking carpets. Laryssa Oneida hadn’t done a lot, but she hadn’t been needed too much. Alysha had been her usual self, defending, dishing the rock, and playing some offense. Gark was glad to have her manning one of his midfield spots. This brought up Demetra; she had still looked lost some of the time, but Gark had seen something in her play . . . she had some composure. It needed to be polished, obviously, since a ‘naked’ bull-rush against a Wookiee team wasn’t exactly a good idea, but he saw the talent there. She just needed confidence, and that would come with time. Overall, not a bad effort on the team’s part.

    But something else gnawed on Gark’s mind. What had he missed back at the Bothancave? Was Mornd ready to strike soon? He tried not to look worried about it when he addressed the team after the game, but it was still in the back of his mind. He had won the game here today, but he was sure Mornd wanted to win the war. Gark just wasn’t sure how much of a fight he could put up when push came to shove.

    TAG: No One
  8. JM_1977 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    May 23, 2011
    star 6
    IC: Zeke Barbosa
    GMs office, inside Kala'unn Memorial Stadium 2 months before Friendly game against Tatooine

    "For the umpteenth time, the answer is no."

    This discussion wasn't quite going the way Zeke had wanted. He had finally been called in to discuss his current contract, but apparently the GM, the ruthless Lyle Kewman, wasn't on the same page as Zeke. All he was asking was for 10 years so he could retire as a Rough Rider, but Kewman was saying that was way to unreasonable. Zeke was loosing his cool really fast.

    "We just can't do it. No player no matter how good he is is worth 10 years. Now if you don't back down and consider some-----". He abruptly stopped in mid sentence as the door to his office burst open, as a figure that Zeke thought he had forgotten years ago walked into the office. "Ahhh Mr. Deese I was expecting you a lot later. No matter please have a seat."

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

    13 years earlier

    It was opening day of Zekes Junior season. The air inside the locker room was electric. Everyone was excited, except for Zeke. He had been beaten out by the new guy Fravid Deese, and deese made sure Zeke knew it. Everyday since the announcement had been made Fravid had taunted Zeke during practice which had gotten him extra laps during conditioning.

    Anyway Right before it was time to hit the field for warmups both Zeke and Fravid were called into the coaches office. "Good for you two to join me so close to tip off. This decision was hard for me to make but I realized I had made a huge mistake with my decison a couple days ago. With close deduction and reasoning I have decided that Zeke will be the starting Goalkeeper. I'm really sorry Deese."

    Obviously Fravid was furious, but he didn't let it show. "I respect your decision coach and I will do my best to get the spot back."

    After walking out, and when no one was around, Deese slammed Zeke against the locker with a clear look of disgust on his face. "That spot was mine you piece of bantha poodoo. You will pay for what you've done today."

    Zeke just smirked as he walked away, and held the spot for the rest of the season.

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Zeke Barbosa
    Present day

    "Well well well," came the all to familiar drone of his arch rival's voice. "If it isn't Mr. Hotshot himself, the face of the Rough Riders, Zeke Barbosa." He did a mock applause clearly letting the sarcasm drip over every word, as he walked up to Kewman's desk.

    "Deese." The look Zeke gave him would've made a wampa run away crying, but Fravid just stood his ground returning the gaze. Obviously the tension in the room was so electric you could've ran a full-sized YT-1300 transport from Ryloth to Tatooine. Zeke knew Kewman was up to something. Even though he had never mentioned his history with Deese, it was implied.

    Kewman gave a steely glance at the two of them as they stood in front of his desk. "As you know Zeke is on the last year of his contract. His current negotiations are way to high for this team to meet."
    Deese made a tsk tsk sound clearly mocking Zeke in the process. "Now my plan here is that by bringing in Mr. Deese here to sign with our team you will lower your offer to a more reasonable clip. Now do that or you are off the team."

    That last comment shocked Zeke to his core. They wouldn't dare. Would they? He stood there for what seemed like hours, then eventually something clicked inside his head. "Fine I'll do it, but don't you think that I like this."

    Zeke walked out to his speeder and started it up. As if the pressure on me wasn't enough for this season, he thought to himself as he rode off down the side street leading to his apartment on the outskirts of the city. If Fravid was back, then he feared that an even greater blast from his past wasn't to far behind. He parked his speeder in his usual spot. He saw that his door was slightly open. He could've sworn that he had closed and locked it on his way to the stadium. He cautiously walked in expecting to bandits raiding his house of his valuables. Instead he saw the last thing he wanted to see at that moment. What he had feared earlier with the blast from the past following after Fravid was sitting right on his couch. Sitting there with eyes like knives piercing into his very soul sat his ex girlfriend Gargova Broussard.

    Zeke barely got the strained sigh out of his mouth when quick as a womp rat Gargova was standing right in front of him. And just as quick as she had stood up, her hand came across his face in a deafening slap that would leave a red mark for days. "Well hello to you too," he was able to say through the pain. "I guess I deserved that."

    "Damn right you did after just leaving me for that witch Jenna. How dare you. We were going so good. And then when I needed you the most after such a horrible season of Limmie, you don't answer your phone!!!! You could've at least called to tell me it was over I would've been fine with that." Then unexpectedly she burst into tears. Zeke was caught off guard by this sudden change in moods for her. The tears were streaming down her face like a river.

    Then in between sobs she let out the three words that would change Zeke's life forever.

    "Zeke.................... I'm pregnant."

    To be continued...................

    TAG: No one
    Last edited by JediMaster_1977, Jan 22, 2013
    Liam_Vehn, Jedi Gunny and Trieste like this.
  9. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    Here it is, your 272 Elite League schedule. And apparently we are now on a schedule where the Solo Conference all gets 2 home games in non-conference play. No wonder the Skywalker Conference did better last year! And it's a perfect schedule too!*

    Week 1
    Onderon Crazy Dragons at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    Ralltiir Starkillers at Mando’ade Mercs
    Ryloth Rough Riders at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
    Euceron Storm at Bakura Miners
    Vandelhelm Jets at Coruscant Senators

    Week 2
    Euceron Storm at Coruscant Senators
    Ralltiir Starkillers at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    Ryloth Rough Riders at Bakura Miners
    Vandelhelm Jets at Mando’ade Mercs
    Onderon Crazy Dragons at Rydonni Prime Monarchs

    Week 3
    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Ryloth Rough Riders
    Euceron Storm at Ralltiir Starkillers
    Coruscant Senators at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
    Onderon Crazy Dragons at Vandelhelm Jets
    Bakura Miners at Mando’ade Mercs

    Week 4
    Vandelhelm Jets at Euceron Storm
    Bakura Miners at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
    Coruscant Senators at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    Ralltiir Starkillers at Ryloth Rough Riders
    Mando’ade Mercs at Onderon Crazy Dragons

    Week 5
    Ryloth Rough Riders at Euceron Storm
    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
    Bakura Miners at Vandelhelm Jets
    Onderon Crazy Dragons at Ralltiir Starkillers
    Mando’ade Mercs at Coruscant Senators

    Week 6
    Ryloth Rough Riders at Onderon Crazy Dragons
    Mando’ade Mercs at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Euceron Storm
    Ralltiir Starkillers at Vandelhelm Jets
    Coruscant Senators at Bakura Miners

    Week 7
    Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Mando’ade Mercs
    Vandelhelm Jets at Ryloth Rough Riders
    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Bakura Miners
    Coruscant Senators at Ralltiir Starkillers
    Euceron Storm at Onderon Crazy Dragons

    Tag: @Bardan_Jusik @CPL_Macja @jcgoble3 @Jedi Gunny @JediMaster_1977 @Liam_Vehn @Runjedirun @Teegirloo

    *As always if I got something wrong, please let me know.:p
    Last edited by Trieste, Jan 23, 2013
  10. jcgoble3 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 7, 2010
    star 4
    edit: wrong thread
    Last edited by jcgoble3, Jan 23, 2013
  11. CPL_Macja Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 29, 2008
    star 5
    He just wanted to give me and the Dragons a week off :p
  12. jcgoble3 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 7, 2010
    star 4
    IC: Euceron Storm press release
    Time: Three weeks before start of season

    FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

    Over the past two offseasons, a retractable roof has been installed on Euceron Stadium. Following are the rules developed to decide when the roof shall be open and when it shall be closed.

    The primary intended purpose of the roof is to keep the worst of the Eusebus winter weather out of the stadium during games so that gameplay is not fundamentally altered, as it was during the 270 season opener against the Miners, as well as about twenty years ago when the Storm were in the Premier League and the limmie season last fell during the Eusebus winter. Although most fans that we have polled have been in favor of this, a significant minority have expressed the opinion that adapting to the elements is an integral part of the game. We have taken these opinions into account in developing the rules and largely agree with these fans. While many sports stadiums with retractable roofs close the roof in anything but "perfect" weather, we believe that the rules below enable the game to be played the way it should be played and continue when severe or other dangerous weather would otherwise force play to be suspended, while continuing to allow the weather, be it heat, cold, high winds, or precipitation, to force players to adapt.

    At all Storm home games, one person will be designated by management to be in charge of the roof. This person will be known as the Roof Director and is responsible for all decisions regarding opening and closing the roof, including the decision of whether to begin the game with the roof open or closed. Once the game begins, the roof may be closed at any time provided that the visiting head coach consents, except that such consent is not required if the weather presents a real and imminent danger to players and spectators as noted in section 1 below. If the roof is closed to start the game or during the first half, the roof may be opened only at halftime provided that weather permits and the visiting head coach consents; at no other time may the roof be opened during a game.

    1. Any of the following, or the forecast of any of the following by local meteorologists, shall be considered automatic cause to close the roof immediately without requiring the consent of the visiting head coach, or to begin the game with the roof closed:
    Hail, regardless of size
    Sleet, or any wintry mix that includes sleet
    Lightning within fifteen kilometers of the stadium
    Issuance of a Severe Thunderstorm Warning or Tornado Warning for the stadium area by the Euceron Weather Service
    Wind chill below −15°C
    Heat index above 40°C

    2. Any of the following may be considered cause to close the roof provided that the visiting head coach consents, or to begin the game with the roof closed, if in the Roof Director's judgment the conditions will alter gameplay at a fundamental level or present a potential danger to players and/or spectators:
    Sustained winds in excess of 80 km/h
    Wind gusts in excess of 100 km/h
    Snow accumulating at a rate exceeding 1 cm per hour
    Fog or other conditions that reduce visibility to less than the length of the field
    Freezing rain creating spots of ice on the field

    3. The following shall never be considered cause to close the roof:
    Rain, unless so heavy that flooding begins to become an issue
    Snow accumulating at less than 1 cm per hour, or not accumulating at all

    TAG: Everyone, but particularly @JediMaster_1977 and @CPL_Macja, who play me at home this season
    Last edited by jcgoble3, Jan 24, 2013
    Trieste and Bardan_Jusik like this.
  13. JM_1977 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    May 23, 2011
    star 6
    IC: Fravid Deese
    Rough Rider locker room, Game day for friendly game against Tatooine, Hour before going onto the field.

    Zeke is so stupid, thought Fravid.

    He had sworn to ruin Zekes life from the moment he stole the starting varsity goalie spot in high school. The day had finally come to put his plan to do just that into motion. Actually to be honest the plan had started a couple weeks ago during off season workouts and practices. Things got so heated that Head coach Mothker had to sit both him and Zeke down and put in some skimpy trandoshan who was the third string into the spot. It wasn't uncommon for fights to break either. One time after warmups everyone had split up into their position groups, though Zeke had to be separated from just for cautionary reasons. The drill that the position coach had us do was to have three lines spread out in front of the goal where each person would shoot a ball at the goalie and he had to work on pivoting around to hone his skills on blocking shots from all sides. The drill started. Zeke was up first and was doing pretty well until a shot came from his right. He spun around easily blocking the shot, but thats when Fravid took a cheap shot hitting Zeke square in the back of the leg, clearly breaking it. He dropped like a rock and had to be carried out of practice on a stretcher by a med team.

    He was taken out of the lineup and didn't even play during the annual team scrimmage. Fravid took his spot and did better then even he thought he would. That's when his dream had come true. He had finally beaten out Zeke for the starting spot. Then a week later, just two days before the friendly game, somehow Zeke was back to full health, and totally embarrassing Fravid.

    That's where his plan really kicked into gear. He was gonna frame Zeke for using PEDs to help him recover from his injury. Zeke had gone off to get taped up and everything he does for his pregame ritual. That's when Fravid snuck up to his locker, and placed a small baggie full of needles and a bottle of the PED. Then he walked over to the coaches office and knocked lightly on the door frame. "Hey coach. Sorry to bother you so close to game time, but I need to talk to you."

    The old face of the veteran coach strained as he looked up to meet Fravid's gaze. "Make it quick Deese I'm a very busy man on game day."

    "I'm sure you are. Anyway I have reason to believe that one of your players is doing PEDs." The look Mothker gave him after saying this was so priceless Fravid almost wished he a holo recorder to archive it.

    "That can't be true. My players have too much pride to throw away playing in this game like that."

    "Guess that's not true for someone. And you won't even like who it is." The coach agreed to let Fravid show him who it was, so he lead the way to Zeke's locker. He revealed the baggie filled with the needles to Mothker. He clearly did not have a poker face because shock was plastered all over his face.

    "I can't believe. He was one of my star players. He would've been the last person I thought would do something like this. Guess that means I have to call up the league office here in the city and get this sorted out. Looks like you're getting the nod to start tonight Deese. Better not blow it."

    Oh I won't, Fravid thought smugly to himself. I've been waiting for this moment for years. He didn't let his smirk hide as he went of to prepare for the game.

    _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


    IC: Zeke Barbosa
    30 minutes later

    Zeke had literally seen his career flash before his eyes when Fravid took that cheap shot on him. He thought he'd never walk again much less play Limmie again. But thanks to the fast healing abilities Bith have he was back on his feet in no time, and about ready to start his 7th year as the Rough Riders starting goalie. It almost didn't happen with his arch rival showing up, but Zeke knew in the end he would prevail.

    He had just walked out of the medical room. He had gotten taped up for the friendly game against Tatooine. This one was gonna be a breeze. Zeke was calling this season the year of payback since the past two seasons he had come so close to winning a title but had a failed, and he wasn't gonna let anything stop him not even his arch rival. He stepped up to his locker when coach Mothker walked up to him. "I need to see you in my office ASAP."

    The tone of his voice didn't sound good to Zeke. He hadn't heard Coach sound so blank and sullen since his wife died when Zeke was a rookie. "Ummmmmmmmmmmmm sure coach whats up?"

    "Just come to office."

    Zeke followed him into the office, and found two men who stood up the moment Zeke walked in. He recognized them from the small logo of the local ELL office, which was located just 3 blocks from the stadium. They never came into the locker room unless something big was going on. The guy on the right who was a medium sized Weequay dressed up in a navy blue collared shirt. He wore goggles that covered his eyes and made them about twice as big as they actually were. When he spoke Zeke's heart dropped all the down into his stomach. "On behalf of the Lessu Elite League Limmie office, I hereby suspend you, Zeke Barbosa, from Limmie play due to allegations and evidence pointing towards your use of performance enhancing drugs until further notice pending an investigation."

    Zeke gave a desperate glance towards his head coach, his mentor, his friend. "Are you just gonna let them do this to me. I don't do PEDs, you of all people should know that."

    "I'm sorry Zeke but the evidence doesn't lie. Fravid showed me a bag full of needles shoved in your locker."

    The moment Mothker said Fravid's name, Zeke knew this was all part of his plan to totally ruin his life and take over the Rough Riders. He knew he was getting framed, he just didn't know how yet. He wasn't going to let Fravid do this to him sitting down, but for right now he had to go along with this. "The officials are here to escort you to the local law enforcement building. Don't fight it Zeke I don't want anything else to happen to you."

    The Weequay walked up and pushed Zeke towards the locker room door that lead out into the warm, humid Ryloth night. First my ex girlfriend gets pregnant and tell me I'm the father, then I'm accused and arrested for using PEDs, Zeke thought to himself. "What the heck did I do to deserve this", he muttered to himself as he walked out into the night with the two officers tailing him.


    _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

    3 hours later after the Tatooine vs. Ryloth game goes final

    Zeke looked up at the holo screen in the lobby of the law enforcement building and saw that the Ryloth game had gone final. The score read 23-1 in favor of the Rough Riders. Well at least Zeke was right about one thing. The game was easy. Then he saw Fravid come across the screen doing a post game interview. Zeke swore silently to himself that he would get his payback against him. And this time only one of them was gonna be left standing.

    TAG: No one
  14. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post
    Elite League offices, Coruscant

    "Good afternoon," League General Counsel Esther Gondorf said to the media, "At this time I would like to brief you on a serious matter that has reached the Elite League and that I am handling personally.

    "Prior to the commencement of the non-League game held between the Ryloth Rough Riders and the Tatooine Sandskimmers, the Rough Riders organization was made aware of potential performance-enhancing drug use by one of their players. The Rough Riders immediately reported this action to a local League representative. This representative conducted an investigation, prevented the player in question from performing in the non-League game, suspended the player, and then handed the player over to local law enforcement in conjunction with these allegations."

    The reporters were writing furiously. Drug use in the Elite League! Unprecedented! This would upend everything!

    "I am appalled by these events," Gondorf finished.

    "Will you say that the League's processes for preventing performance enhancing substances worked?" one reporter asked.

    Gondorf squinted at the reporter. "I'm sorry, it seems I wasn't clear. I am appalled by the egregious mismanagement of this entire matter," the attorney clarified.

    Someone actually dropped their datapad in sock. That wasn't what they'd expected to hear!

    "Would you care to elaborate on that?" a reporter asked in surprise.

    "Absolutely. In the first instance, this was not an Elite League match. Ergo, our jurisdiction was questionable to intervene. The failure by our local representative to report this circumstance to Coruscant was an inexcusable error. We would have immediately consulted with Premier League officials given the presence of the Sandskimmers. However, as the supposed infraction occurred in an Elite League-associated facility, I think a reasonable assumption of jurisdiction could have been assumed.

    "However, our local representative's actions were not only unilateral, but did not follow Elite League procedures. His barring the accused player from competition was done on the basis of what we have learned to be circumstantial evidence. Furthermore, the player in question was not immediately tested for the presence of performance-enhancing substances and, to our knowledge, has yet to be tested because the player is in the custody of local authorities--more on that in a moment. Even if testing had occurred, our representative did not have the authority to bar the player from competition without speaking with the offices here on Coruscant.

    "Furthermore, suspensions are handed out solely at the discretion of the Commissioner, who had not issued any such decision on this matter when the player was told of the suspension.

    "Additionally, as the Elite League is not knowledgeable in all areas of Ryloth local law, we are unaware of whether there is any law that makes it illegal for a citizen to take performance-enhancing substances. Though the League is adamantly opposed to this, handing the accused player over to law enforcement appears to be completely unnecessary as no law was broken, to our knowledge. The League is currently working to secure the release of the player in question unless there are charges of merit against him. I am in personal consultation with authorities to ensure the player's release."

    "But who is the player?" one reporter asked.

    "Because of the unsubstantiated nature of these allegations, at this time the Elite League will not be releasing any details," Esther said, And will be working to keep this out of the records on Ryloth to ensure nobody goes snooping around under freedom of information acts either. "The majority of the galaxy operates on the principle of innocent until proven guilty and the League maintains that assumption as well.

    "I would like to close by saying that after being informed of the events on Ryloth, the Commissioner immediately ordered our local rep on Ryloth suspended without pay. An investigation into the facts, which I have communicated to you, was performed and our representative was terminated by order of Commissioner Kayl'hen. This behavior is unacceptable and besmirches the name of the Elite League."

    "But what if the player really was juicing?" a reporter asked, "Just because the investigation was botched doesn't mean he was innocent."

    "We have already considered such a possibility and have taken appropriate steps to ensure that the integrity of the game is preserved, especially with the regular season opening shortly," Gondorf said, "Thank you all, I have no further comments at this time."



    Gondorf's office, Coruscant

    "Mr. Barbosa," Esther said, addressing the Bith by way of holoconference, "I would like to once again apologize for your treatment. We here at the League are appalled at the handling of this matter, which violated your rights as a player. The Elite League is committed to preserving the highest standards of competition and ethics, and that includes treating our players properly.

    "We have yet to be informed of a formal charge by Ryloth authorities, but they do follow the standard galactic convention of being able to hold you for 24 hours without charging you. I sincerely hope that you will be released at that time or sooner. Our lawyers are negotiating on your behalf.

    "However, there is one outcome of this affair that I feel it prudent to inform you of," Gondorf said.

    "As a result of the allegations made against you, you will be randomly drug tested at the League's discretion at any time this season, including immediately prior to games. If you are found to have performance-altering substances in your body, I guarantee that you will receive harsh punishment. Due to the badly handled situation, I do not know if you had such substances in you at the time of the allegation. I hope not as I would like to believe no being who loves the sport of limmie would. However, If you did, you have been given the gift of a second chance. I hope that you use it well, Mr. Barbosa."

    And with that, Gondorf terminated the holoconference.

    Tag: @JediMaster_1977
    JediMaster_1977 and Bardan_Jusik like this.
  15. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    IC: Sydney Talon
    Fleetfire Zarmer offices, Salis D'aar, Bakura

    "It's the only deal you're going to get," Sydney said.

    "My client's position is firm," the Drall sitting across the table said again, "Ms. Andersen finds the terms unacceptable. In fact, we're insulted that we're not negotiating with Cundertol, if you can call this a negotiation."

    "And that's where you're right, " Sydney said, "This wouldn't be a negotiation if Cundertol was in my seat because he'd have kicked your butts to the curb. I'm your client's best shot at signing this deal."

    "Who says we're interested in a deal?" the Drall said, leaning back in his chair. Seated next to him was Corrie Andersen, who was oddly detached from the proceedings as she looked out the windows of the law firm's conference room.

    "You wouldn't be here if you were going to walk," Sydney said.

    "Maybe we're just kicking the repulsors, if you know what I mean."

    Talon turned to Corrie. "You know, for someone who does an awful lot of talking on the field and to the media, you're oddly quiet right now."

    Andersen didn't even look at Sydney. "I pay him to negotiate my contract. I believe in getting what I pay for."

    "Which is precisely why my client believes that this is an insulting contract. Three years, three million a year? For an all-star forward?" the Drall pressed.

    "The last all-star game we had, she was on the bench. And if you want to use all-stars as a benchmark, this is the exact same deal Glencross signed last year," Sydney countered.

    "An Alana Glencross who, as captain, led her team to 3-4 and missed the playoffs the season prior. My client is a Galactic Cup champion. We want to see more than Glencross money," the Drall counter-countered.

    "And look what happened to everybody when Glencross signed that deal. You said it yourself," Sydney said.

    "Glencross was at the bottom of her game. My client is at the top of hers. We're not signing this."

    "What's she going to do? Go somewhere else?"

    "I hear Genet is nice this time of year," Corrie remarked idly, "Or Corellia. Or Chandrila. Or Hapes. Especially Hapes. Agamar..."

    "What Elite League team is going to take you on at this late date?" Sydney challenged.

    "Vandelhelm," Corrie said simply and resumed looking out the window.

    The worst part was that Sydney knew she was right. Yore Vex Ten had signed Montador and won a championship. Put Andersen next to that former MVP and the Jets' slide in the last two Galactic Cup Finals was probably going to turn into a frigging dynasty.

    "Will Detra is blue chip talent. Cundertol won't hesitate to drop your client and slot him into the starting lineup," Sydney said. This was his last card to play.

    "Great. Detra's a good kid. I'm sure he's ready for the big time. Not like he played a spread offense system that's ill-suited to the pros at Citadel. Nah, he's going to adjust just fine to getting walloped by the likes of Ravis and Luykin and Tam-Ford," the Drall remarked casually, "Look, let's be frank. We're either negotiating or we're not. Your call, Talon."

    "I have to talk with my client," Sydney said.

    "We've got all day," the Drall said, "Hey, while you're up, how about some more of these nuts? They're delicious."



    Inside his office, Sydney holoconferenced with Cundertol after telling Mara to "get Cundertol and I don't care what he's doing."

    "I told you to close Andersen," Cundertol said after hearing the state of negotiations.

    "And I gave them the hard sell but they're prepared to walk. You need to make an accommodation," Sydney said.

    "What are they countering with?"

    "Four years, 3.5 million."

    "Unacceptable. Walk," Cundertol said curtly.

    "That's their position. It's not what they'll settle for," Sydney said.

    "Oh really?" Cundertol asked without much conviction.

    "She'll take three years, 3.5."

    Cundertol considered for a full two seconds. "Bring her in at three years, 3.5 million and it's a deal." And the holoprojector winked out.



    Sydney slid a datapad across to the Drall. "I've spoken with Cundertol. Congratulations, you got the Smug Dragon to part with some of his aurodium."

    The Drall reviewed the terms of the deal and then handed it to Andersen without comment. She read it over, looked at her agent who nodded, and signed.

    "Welcome back to the Miners, Corrie," Sydney said.



    Back at his office, Sydney handed the datapad to Mara. "File this with the League immediately before she has a change of heart. And send me to loan papers. Now that we've locked up the starters, we can farm the rookies."



    --Player Transaction Wire--
    Bakura Miners
    • Will Detra (Human, Male, Half Forward) loaned to the Chandrila Patriots
    • Ruunron (Trandoshan, Male, Center Half Back) loaned to Ord Mantell Scrappers
    • Honey Ryder (Hapan, Female, Midfielder) loaned to Cloud City Sky Captains
    • Calli Webb (Mon Calamari, Female, Right Corner Forward) loaned to Corellia Rebels
    Tag: No one yet, but pregame post coming soon!
  16. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    IC: Sydney Talon
    Salis D'aar, Bakura

    The blue line zipped through the city, packed to the gills with beings. It was a weekend, but the Monorail was more crowded than the morning commute. One of the passengers was Sydney. He'd made this journey many times before. He remembered making it as a kid with his dad and it being just as crowded. He could have taken a hired speeder, but for Sydney this was part of the experience. Besides, traffic was terrible. Sure, he had to jump the orange line from his apartment before grabbing the blue line, but that was one of the concessions you made with mass transit. Well, that and the occasional crazy rider. Even on a well-maintained and clean system like the Monorail you still got some of them. Today, though, all the crazies were out. After all, Sydney was on a train full of Miner fans.

    The train doors slid open and the monorail disgorged almost its enitre passenger load at the Bakura Gardens stop. It wasn't immediately at the stadium, but it was a short enough walk from there. Besides, it took you past the pubs and those were always a sight on game day. Sydney could have made a mint by setting up shop with his law degree outside them and defending drunk and disorderlies if he'd wanted. However, he very much did not want to do any such thing. Corporate law was just fine by him.

    He walked down the sidewalks underneath Bakuran flags and Miner flags. This was standard game day fare, but there was an electricity in the air. The last time the Miners had played at the Gardens no one was sure if they were going to make a playoff game. Now they were Galactic Cup champions. This was the sort of day that you only got to experience so many times in your life. It was why Sydney had checked the official ticket resale listings for the Miners and checked around his section. The scalpers were selling their tickets for upwards of 700 credits--and they weren't even the best seats. But that's what happened when you had one of the smallest Elite League stadiums in with a mere 110,00 seats. This was no Mesh'la Vhetin, no Andromeda Steel, no Six Boroughs. This was more Stoney End, the hallowed ground where the few trod.

    Sydney strode towards the stadium in his dark blue windbreaker, an open collar light yellow shirt, and tan slacks. Most fans were dressed much more casually in Miner jerseys and t-shirts. He probably stood out like a sore thumb, but for a being who spent all day in a suit Sydney found this pretty relaxing. Besides, it was a Miners game. It was worth dressing up a bit more to him. He didn't even always go depending on work. But this was a game he wasn't going to miss.

    The large holobanner that stretched across the front of the Gardens was showing a series of images. First Glencross with the Cup over her head shouting in joy, then Rodders with the Numifolis, other Miners reveling in the glow of victory, capped off by the team picture on the field with the Galactic Cup. "271 GALACTIC CUP CHAMPIONS" was the caption of the team picture.

    Nothing mroe need be said.

    As he had done so many times before, Sydney entered Gate 47. "Hey Lyss, happy 272," Sydney said as his ticket was scanned.

    "Good to see you, Sydney," the ticket taker said with a smile.

    One of the major architectural details of Bakura Gardens was that they took the title of Gardens seriously. Green plant life was everywhere in the concourses, blooming, spilling over planters. It was one of the things that Sydney had always liked about games here. There wasn't the same clinical, sterile feel that other stadiums had. It felt more natural, more alive.

    Sydney hopped the escalator to the upper deck with the other fans. The upper concourse had families in line for concessions and beer. As much as Sydney liked stadium food from time to time, he usualyl skipped it. He'd eaten before he left his flat, thanks to Kitty, and had dinner plans after the game. Instead, he went straight to his seat. He could find his way blindfolded down the permacrete corridor, up the steps, and over seven seats to the right.

    "Hey Sydney!"

    "Sydney, good to see you!"

    "You're late!"

    "Game doesn't start for 15 minutes," Sydney said as he sat down, "That's hardly late."

    "It is when they're raising a banner!" Brock said, slapping Sydney on the back, "Good to see you."

    Sydney's father had gotten two seats in section 210 decades ago. When money had been tight, he'd cut out drinking, he'd put his speeder in the garage and taken the Monorail, but he never gave up those seats. "Seats at the Garden don't come around every day," Sydney's father had told his son years and years ago as they walked to the stadium, "They're precious. You lose them, you never get them back. That's what the wait list is like. You do what you have to do to keep them."

    And now they were Sydney's seats. To his right were Brock's seats. To his left were Caylee and Petr's seats. Behind him were Tripp and Vanna and their kids. In front of him were the Porthans. Sydney knew everybody within two rows of him. This was a family. Sydney's second seat was usually sold at face value to Caylee and Petr ever since their third kid was old enough to go to Miner games. Sydney wasn't using it, so of course he was going to let them have it. Occassionally Sydney did have someone he wanted to take to a game and he usually sent something home for the unlucky kid who got left behind to watch the game at home (or, more often than not, Caylee who was a martyr for her kids sometimes).

    "So it's your turn to move down a row?" he asked Kyrsten, Caylee and Petr's eldest daughter, who was in his second seat.

    "Drew the short straw," Kyrsten said.

    "Poor you," Sydney said, "Sitting next to me for a four game season too. How old are you again?"

    "Sixteen."

    "That's almost old enough to drink. We'll have to do something about that."

    "Mr. Talon will absolutely not be doing anything about that," Caylee interjected from behind.

    "I tried," Sydney shrugged.



    "Gentlebeings, please welcome your defending Galactic Cup champion Bakura Miners!"

    The entire stadium had been on their feet when the Miners hit the field, going nuts. Sydney was a bit more reserved than Brock next to him, a blue collar construction worker who drew most of his pleasure in life from the Miners, but his heart still swelled with pride in his team. In their team. They remained standing as each Miner was called up in turn to receive their Galactic Cup rings.

    "I hear that Valerii said they could just put more diamonds in her old one from 259 but the Triestes insisted that she get a whole new one for winning it as a head coach," Tripp said.

    When Alana Glencross received hers and the crowd cheered loudly, Robb Porthan turned around and said, "Did you hear that she donated half her championship bonus to Watercrest libraries?"

    "No, when did that happen?" Sydney asked.

    "Just came out in the Times ," Robb said, "Did it all quiet like. Class act that Glencross."

    Sydney watched T.K. and Andersen get their rings. If it hadn't been for him, they wouldn't have been hre for this day. He hoped that they'd be back for several more.

    And then came the climax of the pregame ceremonies: the raising of the championship banner. As an old team, the Miners didn't hang banners for playoff appearances, Galactic Cup Final appearances, conference championships. Such things were hearlded elsewhere, mere footnotes. They didn't receive prime placement in public view, where the players could see them. Only Galactic Cup championships got that honor. And as 271 ascended to join 166, 172, 185, 226, 252, and 259 Sydney saw Brock wipe a tear from his eye.

    "It's a beautiful thing," Sydney said.

    "Yeah, yeah it is," was all Brock could reply.

    Tag: @jcgoble3
    Last edited by Trieste, Jan 25, 2013
  17. Bardan_Jusik Mand'alor - Manager of the EUC, SWC and Spinoffs

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Dec 14, 2009
    star 10

    IC: Aay'han Vhett
    GM's office, Meshla Vhetin, Keldabe, manda'yaim

    Aay'han Vhett's eyes flashed as she waved the two Neimoidians to take a seat on the opposite side of her desk as she finished up the holo-conference call with the ELL Commissioner. Her buy'ce was on the desk, so they couldn't miss the rage in her eyes as they complied with her unsaid orders. She turned her attention back to the holo-call, her voice dripping with sweetness..and exasperation.

    "Yes Commissioner, I know what a problem this presents for the League." She smiled "I was married to the man, I know how he is."

    Vhett had taken the commissioner's call as soon as it had come it. She had been expecting it of course, as Vizsla has commed her as soon as he had been able aboard the team shuttle. She had delayed contacting the league office, instead allowing it to contact her, so that she could put plans into motion to operate the team without its owner, at least temporarily.

    "We have already dispatched an attorney to help to expedite the process of his release. With any luck he should be able to meet with Taab by the end of the week. I assure you he is one of the top men in his chosen profession..."

    She stared down the two team attorneys who were out of the commissioner's line of sight. She didn't need them interupting, especially not now.

    "In the meantime I am actually the acting team owner. Part of my...compensation package was a 2% stake in the team which would rise 1% for each the first three years of my contract. We have no information as to whom he would leave the team to if things ended badly for him. The records there are sealed until such an unfortunate event."

    Now she smiled a wicked smile as she began to sign off. "For now, the team is in good hands, and I can assure you I won't be an embarassement to the League."

    The hologram of the Bothan Commissioner winked out and Vhett turned her cruel eyes towards the Neimoidians again. "What do you want?" They were the heads of the team's legal office, and had been hired under Taab's regime to handle contract language with player's agents for the most part. In criminal matters they were in completely over their heads. Or so she had thought.

    "We don't agree with the hiring of this outside attorney, he is too young and his qualif..."

    She cut them off. "I have told you, this is the perfect man for the job."

    The looks on their faces told her they didn't share that confidence, no matter. She had a contingency for that too.

    "As for the two of you. I don't want to see you in my sight ever again. If I do, you will both be grub food."

    She smiled at them as comprehension dawned on their faces and they quickly retreated from her office. They didn't know it yet, but they too would meet with unfortunate "accidents" to keep the secrets they knew safe. She stood up and looked out of her window towards the field below. She wondered how the mando'ade fans would take all this. Opening day and the team's owner was imprisoned? It would be a powder keg down there, and all it would take to ignite it was a single spark...

    TAG: @Trieste

    OOC: I am not intending to make Vhett here a recurring Player Character so don't expect any more of these stand alone posts from her. I did need to do this to answer Trieste's previous TAG though. ;)


    [IMG]
    Last edited by Bardan_Jusik, Jan 25, 2013
  18. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    IC: Gark S’rily
    Bothancave



    Gark tried to land another blow on Nat'alia, but the Hapan was too fast. She then proceeded to strike him across the face with her stick. Gark put a hand on his face to ease the stinging sensation that was now rapidly flowing through his muscles, and Nat used this opportunity to slap the stick out of his grasp. It clattered to the floor, useless to him now. Nat just placed her stick right in Gark’s face. “You can’t do that in combat,” she said. “Too risky.”

    “Easy for you to say,” Gark replied bitterly.

    “I trained to get over that,” Nat said back. “Pain like that doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. Again.” She kicked the stick up into her hands and then tossed it to Gark again. The Bothan sighed; this was getting to be a long training session.




    Gark sat down on the top of a one-story building, fully-clad in his superhero suit. It seemed a little uncomfortable, but he was sure that it would take some time getting used to. He was out here because X had recommended he get used to working in the cover of darkness. Nothing was really supposed to happen; this was as basic a training run as he could get. He yawned as he stared down at the street below; this was certainly boring. Reaching down to his belt, he pulled out a cracker and popped it into his mouth. That really hit the spot.

    Then he heard a scream. Looking down, he could see three thugs facing a group of people. Two of the thugs were holding blasters, and were waving them around in the air at the people, who were obviously frightened. The large thug then reached out and grabbed a small girl; her mother reached out to protect her, but the thug knocked her to the ground with his fist. Then the three thugs began to run. The people, afraid of what might happen to them if they followed, just stood still, shocked by this turn of events.

    “My baby!” the mother yelled out. “Help!”

    That was Gark’s cue. He sighed; X had promised him a milk run here, and now he had to go into action. Oh well, at least he could put his new skills to good use. It had been a month since he had started training with Nat, and although he had learned a lot from her, she was still beating him easily. But none of that mattered now; his objective was clear. Save the little girl from her abductors. Standing up, he peered over the side of the building. The thugs were going down an alleyway; what a terrible place for them to be, especially against a Caped Crusader like himself. He jumped down to the street, using his cape to slow down his descent so that he glided down instead of crashing down hard. Looking back, he could see that the people were oblivious to his presence. Now was his chance.

    Gark peeked around the corner of the alley. The large thug was grasping the little girl tightly, holding a meaty hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. The other two were quickly retreating down the alley-way, trying to get away in case someone was following them. And someone was. Gark, after checking that the coast was clear, ran down the alley after the thugs. But the Bothan wasn’t used to running in this suit; it felt awkward to go more than a walk in it, and Gark had to slow down a little bit. The thugs, running at full speed, were getting away from him. He had to do something.

    Then an idea came to him. He grabbed his special blaster and turned on the grappling gun. Looking up into the dark alley walls above him, he shot out the harpoon into the distance. It wasn’t long before he could feel the anchor secure itself on something. This was his chance. Taking a leap, he shot into the air. At first he closed his eyes, not wanting to look down as his feet left solid ground. But it didn’t take long to open them again. Even though he couldn’t see very well in the darkness of the alleyway, the rush of air in his face told him that he was airborne. He flashed by a window; inside, a family was having dinner. A small Zabrak child looked out the window at this precise time, and Gark waved as he went flying by. He didn’t know how the kid would respond; at that age, seeing someone flying by the window like that at semi-high speed wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence.

    Seconds later, Gark’s feet made connection with the ground once again. He almost stumbled, but was able to find enough balance to stay upright. The thugs were right in front of him, and it looked as if they didn’t even hear him coming. Just the way he liked it . . . or it would be if he knew what he was doing.

    “Hey!” he shouted at them. The thugs turned, confused. Who could possibly be following them? What they saw was a badly-illuminated Bothan in an orange and black body suit with a cape draped over his shoulders.

    “What the hell is that?” one thug asked, bewildered.

    “Get ‘em!” the thug holding the little girl hostage exclaimed, taking a step back. A Barabel thug stood forward, raising his blaster.

    “Outta my way!” he said in a brutish voice. “I mean it!”

    “Oh, I’m trembling,” Gark said.

    “Take ‘em!” the head thug shouted. The Barabel and the other thug advanced on Gark, the other one reaching his hands out to try and grab Gark. But the Bothan was ready. As soon as the Barabel was in range, he pushed his hands up in an uppercut position to hit the Barabel’s arm. This caused the blaster hand to shoot up into the air, making the blaster the thug held come loose from its iron grip. Gark then sent an elbow into the Barabel’s chest, causing the thug to react in surprise. He bent over, and Gark then came down hard on its head with his elbow. The Barabel, despite its species’ trait of a strong outer skin, fell to the ground in a daze, still stunned by Gark’s fast movements. The other thug blinked as he saw Gark dismantling his cohort, giving the Bothan enough time to make his move. He swung his right fist at the thug, who barely dodged it. But Gark was ready for this; he came around with his left fist, catching the thug squarely in the jaw. It was a perfectly-executed move from his training, and the thug grabbed his jaw in pain. Gark then jumped into the air and kicked him square in a soft spot. The thug collapsed onto the ground, now holding two parts of his body in pain.

    The head thug growled menacingly. Dropping the little girl onto the ground unceremoniously, he put up his fists. Gark readied himself for more combat; he wasn’t quite sure what this thug was going to bring to the table. Nat’alia had planned her defense in these first few seconds of a fight; that was how she always defeated Gark in the early training sessions. He had been headstrong, and had no sense of planning his strikes in advance. It was an ability that he was starting to pick up, but he was still unsure of exactly how much he could do planning-wise before opening the fight. But he knew he would let the thug make the first move.

    The thug obligingly did so. He came with a swinging haymaker that caught Gark off-guard. He hadn’t seen this kind of extreme tactic before, and he blinked. Putting his arm up, he was able to deflect enough of the punch so that he merely stumbled backwards. As he aimed to launch himself forwards, he felt a presence on his leg. Looking down, he could see the Barabel grabbing his leg. Gark kicked the thug in the face with his other foot, and then stomped on the back of the Barabel to keep him quiet. The head thug charged forwards again, but this time Gark was ready. He leaned to the right to dodge a punch, and then came in low. He buried his head into the body of the thug, pushing the man backwards a few feet. Then he proceeded to land a series of quick-strike punches to the abdomen. The thug yelled out in pain and hunched over slightly. Gark came down with another elbow strike, catching the man in the head. He crumpled over onto the ground, but then grabbed onto Gark’s leg and yanked him down.

    Gark found himself on the ground, and the thug towered over him. The man reached down to punch Gark, but the Bothan was too fast. He rolled out of the path of the punch, making sure to kick the man in the back of the calf. The thug, stunned by this maneuver, hit the ground once again. Gark stood up and looked at his handiwork; not bad. Two thugs down, and now the little girl was safe. She was looking back up at him with saucer-like eyes. “You’re safe now,” he said in an assuring tone to the girl. “I’m a friend.” She looked nervous, but Gark put out his hand for her to take. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. Well, this was certainly something he hadn’t thought about ahead of time. Taking care of baddies, that was one thing. Trying to talk to a child into trusting him, that was another matter entirely.

    The girl pointed to something. Gark frowned; was she playing with his mind? Then he heard a whack!, and he whipped his head around to see what had happened. The third thug lay on his back, knocked out for the count. Nat’alia stood over him, her fist still up in the air as she had her back to Gark.

    “Did I pass the test?” Gark asked. He didn’t know that anyone had been watching.

    “Overall, not a bad performance,” Nat’alia commented. “But always make sure to mop up.”

    “I had him,” Gark said, gesturing to the downed thug. But Nat didn’t pay him any mind. She went over to the little girl and bent over so that they were at eye-level with each other.

    “It’s going to be all right,” she said in a sweeter voice than normal. The little girl nodded her head vigorously. Gark rolled his eyes; apparently that was what did the trick with children. Nat reached out her hand, and the little girl took it. Nat stood up and came over with the little girl to Gark’s side.

    “Now what?” Gark asked. “We can’t exactly stroll to the nearest police precinct. We’re supposed to be invisible, remember?”

    “I have an idea,” Nat said.

    When the two had reached the nearest police station, Gark had taken the little girl up near the front door. Some people milling around inside the office came rushing out at the sight of the little girl. Gark, trying to pull out his grappling gun, fumbled with the device. He was then spotted by the people, who looked up at him.

    “Who in the hell are you?” asked a police officer, taken aback by the 'funky' costume.

    “Uh . . .” Gark said. He didn’t have a superhero name to use in this instance. Then something came to him. “I’m Superbothan.” He finally found the grappling gun button, and punched it down. “I’ll be around,” he said as he shot into the air and out of immediate sight. That had been a close one; who knew if that police officer wanted to arrest him? When he landed on the roof, Nat, who had been hiding in the shadows, joined him.

    “Superbothan?” she asked with a smirk.

    “It’s all I could come up with on short notice,” Gark replied with a shrug.

    “Indeed,” Nat said, still smirking. The two then headed back to the Bothancave. Once there, Gark took off the super suit and went straight to the spare bed made for him. He was exhausted from the anticipation of his first real fight. He hadn’t slept so soundly in a long time.



    Bothancave, Training Area, Two Weeks Later

    For so long, or at least it had seemed like a long time, Gark had his ass handed to him in training. He was sick of Nat always picking him up off the floor; this time was going to be different. He stared down his tormentor, his eyes steeled on her, watching her every move. Both combatants breathed slowly as they stared each other down, waiting for the other to make a move. Finally, Gark let his instincts take over. He stuck one arm over his head and placed the other one out into space towards Nat. He turned that arm over so that his hand was facing the ceiling. Finally, he curled his fingers and gave the “come at me” gesture by flicking his three middle fingers in quick succession, not saying a word while doing this.

    Nat finally charged forwards, her curly red hair flowing behind her as she ran. Her fists came down upon Gark like a mad pair of hornets, as they had so many times before. But Gark was ready. He stuck his other arm into the path of the fists, blocking them effortlessly. Nat came at him with a leg kick, but Gark dodged skillfully by leaning to one side. Now was his time to counterattack. He let go a right uppercut, but Nat was able to bend her neck back to avoid the blow. In the process, she shot out her left arm. Gark blocked the shot to his face by pinching the Hapan’s hand between his two arms. Nat, surprised by this move, yanked her arm out of the Bothan’s embrace, giving Gark enough time to twist her arm as he let go of it. Nat recoiled slightly, shaking her arm out before getting back into her starting posture. This time Gark took the offensive, charging forwards and then attempting to land a series of blows to Nat’s upper body. But the skilled woman was able to parry each one of his strikes, finally shoving the Bothan away from her with a concentrated push with her hands. Gark skidded back a few steps before knuckling down once again. This was going to be one tough fight.

    Nat launched herself forwards at the same time Gark did, and the two started trying to land blows on the other. Nat used her quick hands to go at Gark’s mid-section, while Gark easily blocked those shots and got in some of his own off the blocks. Both combatants were evenly matched. Finally, Gark came through with a right hook off a jab by Nat. The move plowed into Nat’s side, and when she flinched, Gark took the opportunity to trip her up slightly with a hook move by his foot. Nat tried to fight back, but she began to fall. Trying to get back up, she sent her hands up into the air to try and connect with Gark’s face. But the Bothan once again was up to the task, grabbing her arms and pinning them behind her head as he slipped her into an improvised headlock. It wasn’t meant to be a major one, as Nat had conveniently not taught him that, but it would suffice.

    “Not bad,” Nat said, gritting her teeth.

    “You taught me everything you know,” Gark replied.

    “Not everything,” Nat spat. She then spun her head around and broke Gark’s lock. Taking this break in the action, she sent out a flying kick that Gark barely dodged. Nat landed to his left, then coming out with a strong left leg kick to his head. Gark’s hands once again came up to defend his face, pinning Nat’s leg between his arms. Nat twisted her leg around, kicking Gark’s feet out from under him. The Bothan went down, but hopped back up before Nat could get a solid foot in his back to pin him down.

    This is how the next two minutes went. The two combatants shared turns on the offensive, exerting tremendous amounts of energy in the process. “Lookin’ good!” Dun Dun shouted from the side of the room.

    “Sticks!” Nat shouted. Bucky and Duckett, who were standing next to Dun Dun, both threw a stick up to the fighters. Gark caught his stick, which was the exact same model as the one he would have in the field, firmly on the grip and brandished it like a pro. He started to swing it in wide loops in the air, trying to work on his intimidation techniques. But Nat wasn’t scared; she came forwards and launched her stick at Gark’s face. The Bothan parried the blow, and by twisting his wrists, undercut Nat’s stick. Pushing it upwards, he then did a full spin on the ground as he tried to dodge the counterattack Nat was sure to bring. And she did, which Gark was easily able to dodge. Reaching out with his foot, he kicked Nat in the shin and then came down with his stick. Nat, who had slipped, could only block by bringing the stick above her head. After Nat swung at Gark with her free arm, he dodged by pulling his body back from the blow and then swung his stick at her head from an angle. She deflected it, but he kept coming. It was true that she had some things he hadn’t learned that she was using, but she had also allowed him to experiment with his own style. And now she was going to fall prey to it.

    Nat had gotten up, and took another free swing at Gark. The Bothan pulled his stick back to dodge the blow, and had his chance. He came from above with his stick arm, bringing Nat’s stick down towards the ground. Using this as leverage, he kneed the Hapan in the chest area and sent her reeling. But she got back up again almost immediately and came charging at him. Gark knew exactly what to do. He ran.

    He made his way over near the wall, Nat right on his heels. He took a quick strike at her before turning around. Jumping in the air, he stuck out a foot and nailed the wall solidly. This allowed Gark to change directions in mid-air. Nat was stunned as she watched the Bothan fly towards her, almost in slow motion. Gark brought his stick down to match Nat’s, but his momentum helped him bowl her over. As soon as Nat hit the ground, Gark landed and then put a foot on her leg and the stick up underneath her jugular.

    “What was that?” Nat asked, shocked.

    “I call it the ‘Flying Bothan’,” Gark said with a grin. “Do I pass the test?”

    “I think you’re ready,” Nat replied.

    “Not bad!” Dun Dun shouted from the sidelines. Gark took Nat’s hand and pulled her up off the ground. “Not bad at all! I guess you’re not just a coach anymore!”

    “You do realize that this is just the beginning, right?” Nat asked.

    “I know,” Gark said. He didn’t like this fact, but it was true. The road was going to be long. “We might as well get started on it ASAP, then.”

    “That’s the trick, isn’t it?” Dun Dun said. “We don’t have any leads right now. Which I think is advantageous seeing that you have a game in a few days’ time. Maybe I’ll get to take a break from all this hero stuff after all. Gark slapped a hand to his face; he had completely forgotten about the Limmie game coming up. That was going to make things . . . interesting, to say the least. But at least he had finally met his goal physically, so at least there was something to cheer about.

    TAG: No One
  19. Runjedirun Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 2012
    star 6
    By the end of the second day of try-outs the prospects were exhausted and Lucie was deadlocked.

    [IMG]

    She sent the dancers home without making a final decision. Hoping to sleep on it and make an announcement the following day. But finishing off her dance team’s roster soon became the least of Lucie’s worries. That night the 272 official ELL schedule and been released and the Starkillers very first game was on the road in Mandalore.

    After a restless night Lucie hit the permacrete early hoping for inspiration to come during her morning jog. Much to her surprise coach Foress was waiting in the park. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have team commitments this morning?”

    “Lucie about the only two people on Ralltiir who are up this early are me and you,” coach said in reply. “Besides I thought we could both use the company this morning.”

    It was true. The only other person Lucie knew who was willing get up this early was coach and she really did appreciate the company, especially this morning. “Hope you are up for several loops this morning then,” Lucie challenged, “because I have a lot to sort through before heading back to the studio and making final decisions on my roster.”

    “Still worried about crushing their dreams?” coach asked as they fell into step with each other and headed around the western side of the artificial lake.

    “That’s not it”. Lucie began, “I actually figured that out. I know some of the candidates will be crushed, but I also know my team and what types of beings will fit in best with the roster I have. All I have to do today is give out the good news to those I have selected”.

    “And the bad news to those who you are cutting” coach reminded.

    “Yes,” Lucie hesitated. “Have you decided who you are starting? How do you break the news to your players?:

    “I don’t really,” coach admitted “I hang the final roster on the wall in the locker room, let the players find out on their own. Some of them come to me with their disagreements, then I tell them what they can do to improve their game and work their way towards being a starter.”

    “Really?” Lucie said. “You make it all sound so simple. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that . Have you decided on a final starting line up yet?”

    “I have. Both Ye’ves’toung and Marmu have proven themselves.” Lucie could hear pride in the coach’s voice as he made this statement. “Abe, well that poor kid gave it everything he has, but he’s just not ready for the ELL. He’ll be a good back up if we need him and he’s going to work with Jooms. The two of them have really hit it off.” Coach turned off the loop on the lake and headed towards a path that led out of the park, without thinking Lucie followed his lead. “So if you got your roster decided on, what else is troubling you this morning?”

    “It’s the schedule they released last night. Our very first game is not only on the road, but against the Mercs? Aren’t you concerned?”

    “Actually the players are ecstatic. They think the Mercs will be an easy win after their performance in the league the past couple of years. Usually that kind of overconfidence would worry me, but in our situation a team full of green players in a new setting I’m very happy to know they are confident.”

    “I wish I shared your confidence.” Lucie said. “Aren’t you at all worried about the player’s safety? The stories alone I’ve heard about Mandalorians are enough to alarm me. The fact that the owner of the team was arrested recently, for murder no less, terrifies me. I really don’t feel safe traveling there, much less performing in a stadium full of oppressive fans.”

    “Our own owner, Ira Clarke, isn’t much more above the law himself. It almost goes with the territory of being an owner. Most people don’t come across enough money to purchase a Limmie team legally, if you catch my drift.” Coach had left the park completely now and they were jogging through the city streets “The league isn’t going to let anything happen on the field that would cause bad publicity. No reason to concern yourself with your safety, if that’s what you’re concerned about”.

    “You sure have a lot of confidence in league officials”. Lucie replied, the lack of agreement in her tone evident.

    “Think about it” coach replied. “They have an image to uphold. The ELL won’t maintain it’s popularity if safety inside stadiums becomes a concern. Security will be on overdrive you have nothing to be worried about”.

    “You’re sure?” Lucie asked redundantly.

    “Trust me” coach came to a stop right in front of a Juice and Caf bar that Lucie passed everyday on her way to work, but had never actually paid much attention to. “Let me buy you some breakfast, get your morning off to a good start, before you have to post that roster.”

    Lucie was taken back, buy her breakfast? Coach was married, this was getting awkward. But she had to admit she really enjoyed his company. Maybe he didn’t mean anything by it. Still Lucie had her own commitments this morning. “I’m sorry” Lucie said looking at her chrono “dancing isn’t my only career commitment. I actually have another job I need to be at in just a few minutes. Thanks for the offer” Suddenly was glad she still had her job at the diner. It was a good excuse for the moment, at least.

    “Oh,” coach sounded disappointed. “Another time then.”

    “Yes” Lucie agreed. “I’m off on Tuesdays and Fridays.” Lucie couldn’t believe she had told him that. He’s married she told herself again.

    “Friday then” coach agreed. Before Lucie could reply he jogged off, leaving Lucie speechless and a little stunned. She had no time to contemplate her next move. She glanced at her chrono again and decided to take a detour through a back ally to get to her building so she could get to work on time.


    Ralltiir Starkillers 272 Starting Roster

    General Manager: Ira Clarke (human male, Ralltiir)
    Head Coach: Maxson Foress (human male, Ralltiir)
    Goalkeeper: Jooms Woudron (Talz, male)
    Right Corner Back: Slynx (Gand, male)
    Full Back: Lista Mil'kya (Bothan, female)
    Left Corner Back: Ty Allin (human male, Corellia)
    Right Half Back: Loma Ikell (Thakwaash, female)
    Center Half Back: Keli Sen (human female, Hapes)
    Left Half Back: Andi Blyss (human male, Coruscant)
    Midfielder: Ye’ves’toung (Chiss, female)
    Midfielder: Jiims Woudron (Talz, male)
    Right Half Forward: Frokabukk (Wookie, male)
    Left Half Forward: Galen Coldnight (human male, Tatooine)
    Right Corner Forward: Loren Jul (human female, Hapes)
    Full Forward: Rim Marmu Ishana (Bimm, female)
    Left Corner Forward: Kallaevge (Wookie, female)

    [IMG]
  20. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    IC: Gark S’rily
    Andromeda Steel Corp. Field, Coruscant, Gameday

    The energy in the Coruscant locker room was palpable. All of the players, despite not saying much, were all nervous and excited at the same time. The veterans, notably the team captains, were back in the business. The younger players were excited to be here, excited to be a part of the Coruscant Senators culture. All but one of them in the room at large had been here before in the Elite League, had felt the intensity of the game, smelled it, tasted victory. Many of them had won a Galactic Cup title, some of them a pair. But none of that mattered here now; what did was the objective in front of them. The Vandelhelm Jets, the punching bag-turned Senators scourge that had found great pleasure in punching Coruscant in the gut in big games, were going to be on the other side of the field. It was time for payback.

    Gark walked out of his office, headset in hand. It felt surreal to be back here, after all he had gone through to get the franchise back on its feet. All of the finagling he had to do with the League office to try and void the phony bankruptcy proceedings that Mornd had pulled on him as a last-ditch effort to pull the plug on the Senators. And now Mornd was on the loose again, no doubt attempting to wreak havoc once again if given the chance. But he couldn’t worry about that now; his superhero alter-ego was going to have to wait. It was time for Limmie.

    “It’s been a long time since I was able to stand up here without a major distraction,” Gark said, getting the attention of his players as he paced up and down the locker room. All of the players looked at him in stony silence, listening to every word he had to say. “And, you know something, it feels damn good. Real damn good.

    We have our work cut out for us today. Although we may have beaten the furrballs out at Kalbukk a few months ago, I’m not buying anything from that. We won an exhibition game; big whoop. The Rangers are not Elite League material; the Vandelhelm Jets are. They will be staring at us from across the field in this game. The Jets, three-time Finalists, think they’re real tough. Brooks will go and do his typical crap, thinking that he’s some sort of god out there. And the Jets have bought into it. That’s why they’re so tough to beat in the regular season, because they have talent. A load of it. Brooks will do anything to get over the hump and win another title.

    But you know something they don’t have? They don’t have the best fans in the galaxy out there. We do. And I want to show them a good game, one where we come out on top. The Jets think they’re tough, but we’re just as good as them. We’re going to go out there and stonewall Brooks, make Montador look like a two-bit reject, run circles around Ravis, smash Euwinge’s pretty-boy face into the turf . . . because we CAN. A lot’s been said about us, that we’re washed up, that the year off will make us weak. I’m sick of hearing that we’re not going to be able to contend, that our time is up. It’s high time that we make them eat their words. This is our house, and we are going to defend it down to the last minute, to the last player, to the last whistle, to the last point. We’re going to grit it out in the trenches, make plays in the middle of the field, crunch them with our tackling, stop their goal shots. We will shut them down and send them on a slow shuttle back to that sorry planet they come from.”

    This caused the locker room to erupt in a frenzy. All of the players jumped up and readied themselves to go out onto the field. It was game time.

    As the team neared the tunnel to the field, Gark held up his hand to stop the line of players and staff behind him.

    “What’s the hold-up?” Dirxx asked.

    “Just wait,” Gark said.

    From the tunnel, they could hear the rain of boos come down from the crowd as the Jets came onto the field. Montador, a former Miner, got a heavy chorus of hate in her own right, but as was custom around the league, Brooks got the worst of it. He was never rattled by it, obviously, but at least it made the Senators feel better.

    Then the lights in the stadium fell dark. The entire crowd fell silent; this was the climax they had been waiting for. All eyes went to the video boards ringed around the stadium, which were pitch black.

    Finally, a voice came out from the blue. “It’s been a long time.”

    Another voice chipped in. “Two years of waiting.”

    “Two years of misery.”

    “Two years of no Limmie”

    “Two years of having to sit on the couch and watch other teams play for glory.”

    “Two years of having no team to root for.”

    “It’s been a long time” a voice repeated.

    Then something flashed on the screen. It was a silhouetted Dirxx, holding a bolo-ball between his meaty hands. It looked as though he was going to crush it he was holding it so tight.



    Polis flashed on the screen. “This is more than just a game.”

    Shayt. “This is your lifeblood, your team.”

    “Our town, your team,” Shev said.

    “Thirty players,” Alysha said.

    “Fifteen starters,” said Jerek.

    “Fifteen reserves,” Venn said.

    “One team,” Syprul finished.

    “One team, one crowd,” Cam said. It was interesting to see that the former Senator, despite his misgivings with the franchise in the past, had now been so receptive once again of wearing the Senators jersey.

    “We won’t hesitate,” Riff said.

    “We won’t give in,” Boggs said.

    “We won’t back down,” Cam said.

    “To the last loose ball, to the last fast break, to the last point, we fight!” Moen said.

    “We fight!” came a unison of voices.

    “We will be victorious on the field and off,” Alysha said.

    “We will play because there is everything to play for,” Demetra said.

    “We will play like every game is our Galactic Cup Final,” Shev said.

    “We will not hesitate to play our game, our way,” Jayla said.

    “We won’t hold back,” Saram said.

    “This is OUR HOUSE!” Dirxx said once again.

    “We will defend our house,” Shayt said.

    “You will defend our house!” Polis said.

    “Our house!” was shouted in unison.

    “And no one, I mean NO ONE, will come in here, and push us around!” Dirxx said. “We will rise.”

    “Rise with us,” Polis said.

    “Rise with us,” Shayt said.

    “Rise with us,” Syprul said.

    “Rise with us,” Dirxx said. “Uprise.”

    “The wait is over,” Gark said, holding out a bolo-ball to the delight of the crowd.

    “Game on,” Dirxx said on the video, still crushing that ball between his hands. Then the Senators logo burned into a wall on the screen, the outline clearly marked as video-effect embers raged on the backdrop.

    This caused the Senators crowd to go nuts. What a show!

    Then another video came upon the screen, this one in monochrome.



    As the video progressed, images of old Senators games flashed upon the screen. A Dirxx tackle on the Rangers, a Moen goal scored, a dive over the end line by Shayt to save possession in the defensive zone. A fist pump on the sidelines, Gark scouring the scene and yelling out instructions to his players, the celebration after Izzi’s game-winning goal against the Miners several years back on the way to the Galactic Cup title, shots of the crowd getting into the game. Jerek causing a fumble on a ballcarrier, Polis burning a goalie for a three-point shot, Alysha running over a midfielder while carrying the ball, a Venn Sto save.

    All it said at the end of the video was “Rise With Us”. And the crowd did. All 750,000 fans in the stands stood as one unit and applauded the video. What a show this was turning out to be.



    “And now, fans, the roster for your Cor-us-cant Sennn-aaa-tooorrs!” shouted the announcer, holding out longer on the team name to add effect.

    “Starting with the reserves! A 6-5 goalkeeper from the University of Coruscant, and former Ingbrand nominee. Venn Sto!” The Shistavanen backup goalie ran out onto the field in the tunnel of bodies created by the members of the media and some fans who had won a chance to be out here on the field for the pre-game introductions.

    “A 6-2 half back from the University of Zeltros! Myles Tormera!” The Zeltron half back ran out to join Venn at the end of the “tunnel”.

    “A 5-10 midfielder from Tavolva University! Returning after two years of coaching at the Coruscant Polytechnic Institute! Izzi Polakaya!” Izzi ran out onto the field to join her two teammates. It felt surreal to be back on this stage after all she had been through; to go from coaching college kids to being back on the field as an Elite League midfielder.

    A 5-1 forward from Lanz-Terkin College, and former Ingbrand nominee. Zadd!” The Defel, whose last season had been marred by a leg injury, came out onto the field. He was ready to prove himself on this stage once again after that setback.

    “A 5-11 half back, from Ryloth A&T, Ortho Dyhon!”

    “A 5-9 forward, from the University of Mon Calamari. Bel Erein!”

    “A 5-11 corner back, from Duro State University. Dilfy Pogrid!” Dilfy ran out, joining her teammates. Even though she had once been a starter for the Senators, she still appreciated the chance to play for them despite being a reserve.

    “A 5-10 midfielder, from the University of Denon. Laryssa Oneida!”

    “A 6-2 forward, from Wevern-Tylock College of Coruscant!” This brought some cheers from the crowd. “Kev Flysto!”

    “A 6-3 forward, from National University! Former assistant captain, back with the Senators, where he came from! Cameron Veryist!” The crowd was excited at seeing Cam back in action with the Senators. His release from the team several years earlier hadn’t been on the best of circumstances, and he had harbored a grudge against the team for cutting him in favor of Helena Forsythe. Oddly enough, both players had won a Galactic Cup, so the swap had been even, and the two had even been teammates with Nar Shaddaa in their Cup-winning 270 season. But, after a terrible performance on Mandalore had gotten him the boot, he had been wallowing in the Free Agent pool, no one wanting to pick him up. But Coruscant had come calling, and Cam, although he still didn’t forgive the team for cutting him, he relished getting another chance to play Elite League ball.

    “A 6-4 half back from the University of Druckenwell. Eldis Dumerville!”

    “A 6-4 forward from Hamlin College. Boggs Campbell!”

    “A 6-7 full back from the University of Tatooine at Anchorhead! Doon’sun!”

    “Last, but not least, a 6-1 forward from Cathar Tech. Wylega Zola!” As Wylega ran out of the tunnel to join the other reserves, the energy in the stadium was sucked out for a second. If those were the reserves, then the starters were up next.

    “And now, the starters!” the announcer shouted. The crowd roared.

    “A 6-2 goalkeeper, from UC Bella Vistal. Jayla Leed!”

    “A 5-11 half back, from Verpine Technical College. Evis Kunat!”

    “A 5-10 forward from the University of the Northern Industrial District! Saram Golyxi!”

    “A 6-3 forward from the University of Denon, nominee for the Zumtak Award, and the recipient of the 271 Duchess Eldin Award for athletic and off-field excellence! Riff Persnor!”

    “A 5-6 forward from Valorum University! Lokesh Fil’ish!”

    “A 6-3 forward from the University of Evenvale! Jet Adama!”

    “A 6-6 forward from Republican University! Winner of the 268 Numifolis Award! Syprul Raches!”

    “A 5-10 midfielder from the University of Denon at Eastlake, your #2 overall draft pick this season, Demetra Silkins!” The rookie, the only first-year ELL player on the roster, ran out onto the field for the first time. Gark could tell that she was nervous, and he couldn’t blame her. This was quite a formidable place to play, even if you were with the home team. However, with looming trips to Nar Shaddaa and Bakura on the schedule, Gark figured that Demetra might as well get her jitters out now while she could. At least it was OK to wear black and orange around these parts.

    “And now, your core players and captains! Standing 5-11, a midfielder from the Royal College of Hapes. Alysha Romax!”

    “A 6-3 forward, from UB Gesco City! Moen Heatly!”

    “A 5-9 full back from Litz College! Shev Fil’yer!”

    The crowd was getting really excited now. This was it.

    “A 6-3 forward from the University of Coruscant! Former Numifolis and Salbukk Award winner! Polis! Vayne!”

    “A 6-0 corner back from the Derrling College of Technology! Jerek Deter!”

    “A 6-6 corner back from Republican University! Shayt Contar!”

    “And, last, but not least! Your captain of the past decade of Senators Limmie, back to usher in a new era of greatness! A 6-1 half back from National University! Diiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrxxxxx Hoooooorrrrsstseee!!” This brought the house down. The captain ran out to join his team in the middle of the field.

    “And, as your head coach, a 5-10 coach, from the Coruscant Trade University. Two-time Langann and two-time Grames Award winner, plus a Zumtak and two Cup titles for good measure. Gaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrkkkkk Seeeeerrrrriiiiilllllllllyyyyyyyyy!!!!!” If Dirxx’s introduction had been something, this was even more so. The fans were loving this, and were ready to play.

    When the introductions were over, Gark huddled his players up. “We can do this!” he shouted. “These fans came here to see us play ball. Let’s give ‘em something to be proud of!”

    TAG: No One
  21. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    And with that, it's time for week 1 of the 272 Elite League Limmie season. Gentlebeings, start your engines!

    ...

    Excuse me, I'm sorry. This isn't the Podracing game. So, in that case...



    ...what's that? Not wrestling either? Man, it's been a long offseason.



    :oops:Close enough.

    Bonus rolls to Bakura, Coruscant, Euceron, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, Ralltiir, Rydonni Prime (who I decided not to penalize for scheduling a friendly game that would have otherwise used up their bonus roll), and Ryloth.

    Week 1 Results

    Onderon Crazy Dragons at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers (34-38)
    Ralltiir Starkillers at Mando’ade Mercs (34-34, OT 37-40)
    Ryloth Rough Riders at Rydonni Prime Monarchs (13-29)
    Euceron Storm at Bakura Miners (12-26)
    Vandelhelm Jets at Coruscant Senators (27-19)

    Tag: @Bardan_Jusik @CPL_Macja @jcgoble3 @Jedi Gunny @JediMaster_1977 @Liam_Vehn @Runjedirun @Teegirloo
  22. Bardan_Jusik Mand'alor - Manager of the EUC, SWC and Spinoffs

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Dec 14, 2009
    star 10
    IC: Ryi Kor'le
    Meshla Vhetin, Keldabe, manda'yaim 15 minutes to game time.

    "You have got to be shabla kidding me." Ryi elbowed the player next to her during warmups, it just happened to be Kote. "hrm, what?" he seemed distracted. "Them." she said pointing to the Starkillers sideline. "They brought a dance team with them." Kote looked over at where the dancers were...dancing and quietly remarked. "It has been done in the league before, no harm in it." Ryi gave him a look. "Uh-huh. Well let's get our own dance in and show the aruetiise how it's done."

    A few moments later the mando'ade members of the team had taken to the field for the traditional pre-game performance of the dha werda verda. This season it had been decided that all the Mandos on the team would be able to participate, regardless of whether they were starters or not. It had been a well recieved decision by the team and the fans.

    Even before the chant began the stadium had been buzzing, the arrest of Taab had been the lead subject on everyone's mind. This was a man who was head of one of the great clans, a possible successor to the mand'alor himself. And now he sat in some stinking hole on a waterlogged world. Vhett had tried to downplay it to the team as she assumed her new duties, but no one here at the stadium seemed to be buying it.

    The place was electric and Ryi couldn't remember a time when it had been like this. But now with the dha werda verda coming to a close the place was nearly ready to explode. Fans chanted and slapped their own armored chestplates. Others stomped their beskar boots on the duracreet floor. 4.5 millions Mandalorians rose as one, ready to get a new season underway and hopefully forget for a little while at least the turmoil their national team was undergoing.

    The first half of the game went by in a blur, an exhausting blur, but a blur nonetheless. Using their fans excitement as motivation the Mercs jumped out to an early 3-0 lead on a beautiful pass from Ryi to Kote and through the net. The Starkillers counterattack led to a quick turnover as a pressing Mor'kesh took the ball at midfield and passed it up to the forwards. Kor'le put it over the bar for another point. 4-0 just a minute into the game, and Kor'le already had a point and an assist. She had a feeling it was going to be a great day for the Mercs and their new spread offense.

    That offense quickly led to more points. The lead grew, first to 7-0, then 8-0 and 9-0. Finally another Kor'le goal pushed the lead to 12-0. A time out was called. "They should have stayed in the GCLA!" Kor'le screamed at the top of her lungs. This was going to be a route! The fans nearest the Starkiller's sidelines were letting the team and their dancers have it. Shouting mando'a obscenities that Kor'le was sure they would never understand. But they wouldn't mistake their meaning.

    The team used the timeout to take a breather, so much had happened in just the first minutes of the game. They needed to pace themselves. But Coach vizsla was having none of it. "Push it, push it!" he would scream everytime the Mercs got their hands on the ball. Unfortunatly the Starkillers had also used the timeout to compose themselves as well. A turnover by Ryi turned into three quick points at the other end. Another turnover as the Mercs tried to get the ball out of the defensive zone quickly made it 12-6. That started a Starkillers run, the end of which saw 13-12. Now the Mercs struck back, adding their own points and starting a mini-run of their own. They re-took the lead, but couldn't hold it for long. By the end of the first half the game had become a runaway offensive slugfest, with the Starkillers ahead 21-20.

    While the Starkiller dancers took the field for the halftime show, Coach layed into the team in the locker room. Kor'le could barely listen, she was so exhausted. The short rest there did wonders for her and her team mates though and they came out swinging in the second half. Still the game see sawed back and forth. the Mercs would go up by two, only to give up a goal and go back down by one. Coach started using his reserves at that point, to give the starters a breather and the fresh legs helped. The Mercs once again built up their lead, only to see it collapse in the final minutes. The horn sounded at the end of regulation with the score tied at 34 all.

    Ryi took a knee, breathing heavily as she waited for the overtime to start. She saw that the Starkiller's players were just as tired, maybe moreso. The only way to win this one was going to be sheer will power. And it the end it was the Mercs who would have more. Early on in the overtime Kor'le took a pitchback from Jaro and put it through the net. But those points were answered on the other end. The game then devolved into a scrum near midfield for most of the rest of the period, before the ball squirted lose and came right to her. The clock was winding down as Starkiller defenders converged on her from every angle. It was a tie score, she just needed one point to win it. With only a few seconds left she composed herself and flung the ball, hoping to get it over the bar. But she was tired and held it too long. It fell short and bounced high on the pitch, right past the Starkillers goaltender and into the back of the net.

    Kor'le had made a nearly impossible goal, and the Mercs came away with an overtime win. If the crowd had been going wild before they now absolutly lost it now. It was as if they had just won a Galactic Cup. All the collective Mandalorian frustrations were forgotten for that one moment as an entire world, an entre people, came together and enjoyed another historic moment in the beautiful game. Well, an entire people, save one.




    IC: Beskaryc Taab
    Detention block AA-23, Tipoca City , Kamino.

    Taab breathed evenly in and out as he stared at the cell door. If he had counted the days correctly, and he was sure he had, the Mercs would be playing in the opening game of the season right about now. Anger clouded his face for a moment. These aiwha-bair had stripped him of everyhting that mattered to him. He had been forced to give up his armor to Kor'le. He had been unable to contact his many sons and daughters. He had no idea how his team was doing, or what was happening in the outside galaxy. He was cut off, and had spent his entire time either in this cell or in the chow hall. The other detainees there gave him a wide berth, his reputation was well known, and armor or not he was still not a being to be trifled with. Still he wished to be out of this cell and back home amongst his vode. Even his ex-wife.

    His cell door opened and a gruff looking guard came in, a Kaleesh. "You have a visitor." was all he said before guiding Taab to one of the interogation rooms. Taab didn't know the young human who moved to shake his hand (in the aruetiise style of course) and introduced himself. "I am Mot Cruiser. I'm your lawyer."

    [IMG]

    "You? You're too young to be my lawyer. What is wrong with the team's attorneys?" The young man released Taab's hand and sat down at the small table, motioning Taab to do the same. He whipped out a briefcase and began placing reams of flimsi on the table. "Mr. Taab, Ms. Vhett hired me because I am the best at what I do. I have passed the bar and am licenesed to practice law not only throughout the Republic, but much of independent space too. Including Kamino of course."

    Taab was unconvinced by all this. Noting that the man had not actually answered his question, he would make an excellent politician. "uh huh. And just what is it you are so good at? Is your speciality Criminal cases in general or capital murder ones in particular?"

    The man seemed taken aback by that. Perhaps even embarassed. He played with the stylus in his hand for a moment, flipping it over his fingers, back and forth a few times before answering. "My job is to get you the best deal out there. That's what I am good at." Taab's muscles tensed. The more questions this Cruiser answered the more questions it raise, but the lawyer continued on. "Kaminoan law is unique. You won't make your first court appearnce until tomorrow. We will plead not guilty and they will deny you any sort of bail. A Mando with your resources and credentials is too much of a flight risk."

    Taab had to give this to the kid, he liked to talk. He probably was hoping for a career in politics someday, probably wanted to be Chancellor. "Mr. Taab, that is where the real fun begins. I am going to bury the prosectors office in so much paperwork and force them to go through so much red tape that they will be begging us for a deal." A deal? Taab didn't like the sound of that. Just what was this attorney his wife (ex-wife he reminded himself) had hired getting at?

    "I figure they will start at a 20 year sentence, I am confident I can get that down to ten. Five years of good behavior and you are a free man!" Crusier clapped his hands at that one. He seemed quite pleased with himself. "Get out." he said in a low voice. "Excuse me? I thought you would be happy, five years for a murder is simply amazing. I mean, I amaze even myself with this one."

    "Get out, before I break your neck and feast on your liver, all before the guards even know what happened."

    "But, Mr Ta..."

    "Get out!" This time Taab yelled so even the guard outside the (mostly) soundproof room could hear him. The lawyer quickly gathered up his beloningings and left the room. As he did so he poked his head back in through the door one last time. "See you in court tomorrow Mr. Taab."

    Taab grunted. He had a bad feeling about this.

    TAG: @Runjedirun

    [IMG]
    Last edited by Bardan_Jusik, Jan 28, 2013
    jcgoble3 likes this.
  23. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    IC: Sydney Talon
    Section 210, Bakura Gardens, Salis D'aar, Bakura

    "What the fr--frick are they doing?" Brock yelled, barely catching his profanity before it came out of his mouth. With the kids in the section he tried to be good when it came to language. He succeeded most of the time.

    Sydney didn't bother replying. He was intently watching what was happening on the field. The Miners were in the Storm zone and Morlan had the ball. But rather than execute a pass (not advisable given the heavy coverage on Stormborn and Rodders) or shoot, which was standard half forward procedure, Morlan instead took open space on the field and charged down low. This ordinarily would have been folly as it might have produced an overload down low, but it meant that the Miners' half forward line was weak. Except it wasn't. Stormborn had fluidly moved back into the half forward position to plug the gap. It was smooth and well executed. And when Morlan faked the shot and then spun and passed back to Stormborn she was wide open. The half back who had been covering Morlan hadn't picked up Stormborn and the corner back had gotten twisted around. With the goalkeeper similarly confused, Stormborn was able to hit the far side of the goal with no trouble.

    "That was beautiful," Sydney said to no one in particular.

    It wasn't just good--it was sophisticated limmie.

    "Lun and Aerax are calling it 'the cycle'," Vanna said. She had her headphones on to catch the BBC simulcast audio as she usually did at the game to get a little added analysis of what was happening in the game. "Apparently Valerii worked it hard during training camp." She paused and was clearly listening again. "Since the Hapans played corner forward at A&M, they're saying, Valerii wanted to have an option to integrate them into the scoring and gum up opposing defenses."

    "Well it's working," Petr said, "I don't think Euceron knows what to do."

    "Can somebody talk about how much butt Jorpik is kicking?" Krysten said next to Sydney.

    "Am I going to have to sit through another season of UBTV fangirlism?" Brock moaned.

    "If the GCAA doesn't slap them with some sanctions, then yes," Sydney said.

    "You think they're going to get sanctioned?" Caylee asked.

    "From everything I've seen, their attorneys are dancing on the head of a pin right now. If the Committee on Infractions gets them in front of a panel, who knows what stupid thing somebody could say," Sydney said.

    "They're cycling again!" Robb called out, "It's Alesh and Andersen now!"

    And with that Sydney focused back on the game. Man, Dad would have loved the cycle, Sydney thought, He would have loved it. Syndey just had to enjoy it for him.

    Tag: @jcgoble3
    jcgoble3 likes this.
  24. Runjedirun Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Sep 3, 2012
    star 6
    IC: Lucie Vigo

    Lucie was really beginning to rethink her career choice. It was just after halftime at Mesh’la Vhett. As if the vulgar language that was being spewed at her and the entire Starkillers sideline wasn’t enough rookie back-up Abe Cynour’s whining was getting louder. The rookie goal tender, back up goal tender, was pouting because Coach Foress had not removed Jooms from the goal after the first half. He was adamant that if he was tending goal there was no way the Mercs would have put up 20 points in the first half. Doing her best to ignore him Lucie began to lead her squad in another cheer. “Smash the ball. The Mercs will fall. Pass downfield. Our victory is sealed”.

    [IMG]

    Just as the cheer came to an end the Mercs scored, putting them up by two. “See coach” Lucie heard Abe start to protest. “Jooms couldn’t tend that goal if they shrunk it two sizes. You have to put me in. It’s our only chance to win.”

    Coach was doing his best to ignore the kid. He continued to pace the sideline with one hand on his headset and the other on his datapad concentrating on his next play call. It didn’t take long for the Starkillers to return the favor and score on the Mercs, Lucie caught the inconspicuous fist pump he performed each time he was satisfied with his team’s performance. Before Lucie even finished supervising the dismantling of the celebratory pyramid, the Merc’s answered with another score of their own.

    “He’s incompetent” Abe hollered jumping up from the bench. “You can’t seriously leave him in the game coach!”

    This time coach Foress did not ignore him. He turned around and pointed a finger in the young man’s face. “If I hear one more word from you I will have you escorted back to the team shuttle where you will remain until we lift off and you will not travel with the team for the rest of the season. Is that clear?” Coach’s voice was loud enough to be heard by several rows of spectators who were thoroughly enjoying the sideline entertainment. Lucie did her best not to stare as his face reddened and he took a seat back on the bench.

    Thankfully after the tongue lashing Abe had enough sense to keep his mouth shut. The game continued to be a nail biting back and forth battle. At the end of regulation the score was tied 34 all. The score was tied again near the end of the overtime period. Lucie was bracing herself and her team for another session when out of a pile of Starkiller defenders the ball soared through the air and into the goal. The entire stadium roared in delight, except of course for the Starkiller sideline and their players on the field. They all remained speechless for nearly a full minute. Lucie watched as Coach composed himself and walked out onto the field to shake the opposing coach’s hand.

    It was a sobering loss. After two years of victories in minor leagues no one really knew how to take a loss. Lucie wondered what the coach was telling the team in the visiting locker room. Whatever it was it seemed to take forever while she and the other members of the dance squad waited on the shuttle. Bough quickly looked up scores from around the league. “Check it out” he commented. “The Smugglers won 38 to 34. Seems they also have a wicked offense. You think the Cynour’s kid will be able to take it?”

    In response Lucie placed her head in her hands and quietly said “I hope so.”

    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @Liam_Vehn
  25. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    IC: Sydney Talon
    Fleetfire Zarmer offices, Salis D'aar, Bakura

    “I have Justice Eldred on holoconference for you,” Mara buzzed Sydney in his office.

    The attorney flipped the cover on his datapad shut. That contract could wait. “Put her through.”

    The hologram flickered to life of the Justice who was in her robes, which were open in the front revealing the slacks and blouse she had on. Regan Eldred appeared to be in the middle of final preparations for oral arguments as she was putting on a set of earrings as she leaned, apparently looking at a mirror as one foot searched for a shoe somewhere in her office (its partner already having found its home on her other foot).

    “Justice Eldred, an unexpected pleasure. Is there something urgent?” Sydney asked from his desk.

    “No, no,” Regan said, quite composedly as she fumbled with her earrings, “I just wanted to invite you to join me at the Gardens for the game tomorrow. Should be good, Ryloth’s first visit in team history.”

    “I appreciate the gesture, but I have my tickets,” Sydney said, “They’d go to waste on such short notice.”

    “Yes, Section 210. I had your season ticket file pulled,” Regan said casually, still paying more attention to her mirror than Sydney it seemed, “But you can still join me for a tour before the game. It’s a night game so I won’t be hauling you out of bed at an unholy hour.”

    “I’ve gone on the gameday Gardens tour. It’s quite nice,” Sydney said politely.

    “You haven’t gone on the tour I give,” Regan said, finally finished with her face and now looking for the shoe that was half a foot away, “I’ll see you at 1500.”

    Sydney knew it wasn’t a question. “Sounds good.”

    Regan slipped her foot into the missing shoe and zipped up her robe. “Fantastic. Until then, Mr. Talon.” The holoimage winked out.

    Sydney leaned forward on his desk to activate his intercom. “Mara, clear my schedule for the afternoon of the Miners game.”



    Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura
    Gameday

    “…the 246 restoration was really immaculately done,” Regan said as they walked the lower concourse of the Gardens. It was nearly empty, save for a few concession workers starting to show up to ready the stands for work and some janitors who were giving the floors a gentle wax before they were to be trampled by thousands of beings. The most interesting thing Sydney saw were the beer vendors who were stacking their wares into pyramids right there in plain view. It was not exactly an orthodox sales method.

    “I was in college at the time. Terrible thing to do, taking limmie away when everyone wanted to get tickets from me for the games,” Regan continued, “but well worth it. The historic character of the stadium was well preserved, but critical infrastructure was added or shored up.”

    It was just the two of them, the judge and the attorney, walking the stadium. Regan’s family was coming later to join her in the Noble House’s box. “They’ve been on the tour too many times,” Regan told Sydney, “and they just roll their eyes when I bring them.”

    “It’s a grand old place. Thank the Force you guys didn’t tear it down to build Mesh’la Vhetin II,” Sydney said appreciatively.

    “Don’t think the League hasn’t tried. As one of the smallest stadiums in the League they’ve come just shy of threatening us that we’ll never get another Galactic Cup Final if we don’t build a new stadium,” Regan said, “I personally don’t care. You don’t walk away from a place like this. You don’t walk away from history.”

    “Though Nar Shaddaa could benefit from just burning Six Boroughs for the insurance money,” Sydney said.

    Regan chuckled. “They put a new coat of paint on for the 270 Final. But from having been there plenty myself, I’d class it as one of the historic places in the League. Besides, it’s always nice to know that you’ve got a nicer stadium than your rivals. Now, I believe you know this?”

    They had arrived at a pair of polished silver doors that had the Miners logo engraved into it. Carpet was built into the flooring leading from the doors to a set of sliding glass doors that opened onto a long tunnel at the end of which could be seen the verdant moor of the playing field.

    “Of course I do,” Sydney said, “This is where the team comes out. Once when I was a kid my Dad brought me down here. It’s the only time I can ever remember he wasn’t in his seat for the start of a game.” The memory was clear and vivid. “We got here early so we could stand right at the rope.” Sydney walked a couple paces. “Right about here. I was in front of him so I could see the players. Those doors slid open and out they came. And they walked right from there, right across in front of me. To this day I remember Westley Roberts coming across in his cleats. And as they went out to the field you heard the crowd going nuts. And as a kid you just stand there and think, ‘I was two meters from the Bakura Miners.’ And then they’re all out there and they take the rope down and you walk across the carpet, the same carpet they were on.”

    He looked to Regan who was standing by the polished doors with a smile. Without looking, she reached out and punched a code into a recessed keypad. Silently, the silver doors slid open. “Coming?” she asked simply.

    “Hell yeah I’m coming,” Sydney said.

    The pair entered and the doors shut behind them. The hall continued immediately to their left and Sydney knew where that went. But what caught his eye was the sign hung on the wall immediately to his right.

    Though much is taken, much abides; and though
    We are not now that strength which in old days
    Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
    One equal temper of heroic hearts,
    Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
    To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield

    “What’s this?” Sydney asked pointing, “I’ve never heard of this.”

    “It’s what Glencross told the team on the field last year at the Final,” Regan said, “Valerii wanted it put up. Though she forgot the first line my brother Oisin insisted we add it. Poets.” Regan spoke the last word as to say, “What can you do with them?”

    Sydney nodded before they went down the dark blue carpeting of the hall. To either side were holos of all seven Miner championship teams, posing with the Galactic Cup and the name of every player and coach listed below. It was an awesome thing. Not awesome as in cool, but awesome in that it inspired awe. Though Sydney noted that if they rearranged things there was room for a lot more holos on those walls…

    And at the end of the hall, there they came upon it: the Miners locker room. It was currently deserted, but Sydney was pretty sure that soon players would begin filtering in. It was round so that everyone could see everyone. Set into the floor was a holoprojector underneath what Sydney assumed was strong glass, no doubt for the coaches to demonstrate plays to the team. Above each stall was an engraved plate, gold lettering against dark blue.

    Glencross. North. Morlan. Landa. Alesh. Andersen. Rodders. Stormborn. Down the line, every name.

    “At the start of the season everyone finds a flimsy that lists every player who’s ever sat in that stall,” Regan said as Sydney expected each in turn.

    “It must be humbling,” Sydney said as he paused in front of Inviere’s stall. A uniform hung in each one, back side out with the player’s name, just in case the nameplates didn’t do the trick. He brushed two fingers across the numbers of Inviere’s jersey, causing it to sway slightly.

    “For the rookies, it is,” Regan said.

    “This certainly isn’t on the standard tour…” Sydney murmured to himself.

    “Like I said, you’ve never been on my tour,” Regan replied with a smirk, Oh this is for you. It's supposed to be chilly tonight.” She handed him a dark blue scarf into which yellow yarn had been woven to read BAKURA MINERS.

    “Just my size too,” Sydney kidded as he wrapped it around his neck.

    The Supreme Court Justice could only laugh.



    Section 210, Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura

    “Sydney! Where you been? They’re about to come out! You’re never late!” Brock said.

    “Let’s just say I got tied up,” Sydney said. He’d tell them all about the tour later. Right now he was just going to savor the experience.

    Nice scarf,” Vanna said.

    Thanks. It's a gift,” Sydney said. He'd mention where it came from later.

    Shortly after Sydney took his seat, the lights of Salis D’aar went dark and the crowd cheered in anticipation.



    The music was new this season. Previously the Miners had used “We Built This City” in honor of what had been known as "rock and roll limmie" on Bakura, a term coined during the Big John days. But the Miners hadn’t won a championship with rock and roll limmie. They’d won it playing Valerii ball. They’d won it through hard practices and preparation, through knowing what to do without being told. They’d won it on the road, the hard way.

    The Miners were different now and this new pregame pageantry heralded that. In the darkness, the rhythmic, circular melody went round and round until that first note of the classical nargothrond, which split the darkness as surely as the momentary flash of an image of Aron Rodders on the giant vidscreens that faded into darkness once more. The cheers of the crowd pierced the night sky at the image for a moment too. Then, at the next note, an image of Glencross sped across the screen. Then Inviere, T.K., Landa, North, every Miner in turn. The fans clapped with the music--clap, clap clap. As the music progressed and grew and built, the lone figures against the black field turned into full images with the background of the field of play, opposing players lunging and dropping their shoulders, and referees around them.

    Out here in the fields
    I fight for my meals
    I get my back into my living

    The panorama of a full, daylit Bakura Gardens was followed by images of Miner players tackling opponents, scrumming for the bolo-ball, making blocks and stops.

    I don't need to fight
    To prove I'm right
    I don't need to be forgiven

    Phil Brooks giving Alana Glencross a face wash during a break in play, to which she responds to by slapping his arm away. Cut to Glencross stiff-arming Brooks, sending the forward into the turf as Alana charged away with the bolo-ball. Clips of the Miners in the snow on Thyferra, tearing apart Jayla Leed. Images of them torching the Mercs. North in the limmie equivalent of hand-to-hand combat with Dawn Solo of the Monarchs. Inviere hauling a Hanson brother to the ground. Rodders sidestepping a member of the Storm for a goal. Stormborn shoving a member of the Smugglers. Landa winding up with his right leg for a chip shot over the bar on Rydonni Prime. Jeter and T.K. jawing at each other.

    Don't cry
    Don't raise your eye
    It's only teenage wasteland

    In an instant the field was awash in blue and yellow light. Fans were waving flags. The vidscreens switched to a live view of the very silver doors that Sydney had passed through a few hours ago. To the side of the picture was the security rope, minded by guards and behind which were fans in their Miner jerseys, craning their necks to look at the doors. Even though everyone knew what was coming, the stadium collectively held its breath. Even Sydney couldn't help but find himself fixated on the vidscreen. There was something so captivating about seeing the team emerge from the locker room in such fashion. Even a wise to the galaxy lawyer who had seen it all loved it.

    The silver doors slid open. In front stood Alana Glencross, C on her jersey. With her left hand she reached over, punched the sign with the words she'd spoken not so long ago on Ryloth before she began her walk across the carpet. Behind her came Rodders, who punched the sign too. Every one of the Miners did, even Valerii at the end of the line. They passed through the glass doors that led to the field and onto the permacrete. As the electric mandoviol kicked in with the distinctive interlude, the players ran out onto the field under the intensity of the spotlights.

    Yes, this was Miners limmie.

    Tag: @JediMaster_1977
    Last edited by Trieste, Jan 31, 2013
    Liam_Vehn, jcgoble3 and Bardan_Jusik like this.
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