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

IC: Sydney Talon
Fleetfire Zarmer offices, Salis D’aar, Bakura

“Sydney, I have Esther Gondorf from the League,” Mara buzzed.

“Sithspit,” Sydney said. He had yet to meet the General Counsel, but he knew that calls from her were not good. “Put her through,” he sighed.

The holoprojector came to life. “Mr. Talon, Esther Gondorf, General Counsel of the Elite League,” she said.

“Your reputation precedes you, Ms. Gondorf,” Sydney said, “How can I help you today?”

“This call would actually the other way around,” Esther replied.

“That’s a welcome state of affairs,” Sydney said pleasantly.

“When it involves an open GC-Double-A investigation into one of our member teams, I would hardly call it ‘a welcome state of affairs,’” Gondorf stated.

Frak, Sydney thought. Though Lizsen had been able to deploy an old law school friend on Vandelhelm in an attempt to get Alesh and Morlan out of the GCAA hearings, he’d failed to do so. He was informed that the Miners had no standing in the hearing as a professional team. Even if they had been a member institution of the GCAA, they still wouldn’t have had an authority since the GCAA was not bound by legal convention. What that boiled down to was the fact that the GCAA was not sharing their evidence with the Miners (even Sydney’s contact had come up blank), providing them with any detailed charges, or giving the Miners the opportunity to cross-examine witnesses.

On top of it, Alesh and Morlan had said nothing about their testimony since they said the GCAA had told them both that the proceedings were not public. It infuriated Sydney. Here the GCAA was denying him the ability to cross-examine his own clients’ players and sharing nothing with him, yet they were wrapping themselves in legal proceedings and citing “internal matters” when it suited them. He had gotten so fed up with it that he was in the process of drafting a motion to a Republican court to compel the GCAA to allow the Miners into the investigation hearings.

All this meant that the cards were stacked against them right now. Though it was not going to help the stock of the Miners with the League offices on Coruscant, any help they could give was going to be quite welcome.

“We have been doing everything in our power to take care of the situation, but the GCAA has not exactly been cooperative. Feizal is sharing nothing with us. We don’t even officially know what we’re being charged with,” Sydney said, “It’s a kangaroo court.”

“It might be, but the League is concerned based on what we’ve seen,” Gondorf said.

“What have you seen?” Sydney said sharply.

“The GCAA has shared its current findings with us. We’re sending them to you now. Oh, and Mr. Talon?” Esther added, “While the GCAA can only censure the Miners if they find you guilty, the Elite League wishes to maintain its good standing with the GCAA given the importance of the Draft. We will take action.”

The transmission ended and Sydney ran out of his office to Mara. “Are you getting a transmission from the Elite League?”

“Yeah, it’s big,” she said, sorting through documents on her touch screen.

Sydney jabbed the screen. “There. Alesh’s testimony.” He opened the file and began reading.

---

“You lied to me Quinn.”

Those were Sydney’s opening words to the Miner GM. They caused the Eriaduan’s nostrils to flare with rage.

“How dare you.”

“‘Question: Did you discuss your decision to not participate in the Elite League Draft with Mr. Cundertol?’” Sydney read from his datapad, “‘Answer: Yes. Question: What was the substance of this discussion? Answer: Mr. Cundertol expressed an interest in signing Becki and me to entry level contracts if we didn’t. Question: Did Mr. Cundertol go into particulars? Answer: Yes. Question: What were those particulars? Answer: He said that if we didn’t go into the Draft, he would sign us to identical four year contracts of 2 million credits.’” Sydney tossed his datapad onto a chair in his office. “Damn it Quinn. Force frakking damn it.”

“That’s not accurate,” Cundertol stated.

“Oh really? Because that sounds like you made an offer of employment to not one but two student athletes,” Sydney said, pointing back to the datapad, “And I guarantee you that’s how the GCAA sees it.”

“I never offered them employment. I told them if they didn’t go into the Draft that the Miners would be interested in signing them to contracts,” Quinn rebutted.

“There are two beings who need to know the 100% truth 100% of the time—your accountant and your attorney and I’m the latter!” Sydney said, “This was something I needed to know Day 1.”

“I did nothing wrong. By the letter of the law, I didn’t.”

“I know that!” Sydney shouted suddenly. It took Cundertol slightly by surprise. “But because you left me in the dark I couldn’t protect you! There’s a defense for everything Quinn—but you need to walk that path from the start, not halfway down. Now we’re cornered. Morlan’s deposition says the same thing. Plus they got testimony from Cephala.”

“Cephala?” Quinn said. She had been the goalkeeper for the Miners last season. “What does she have to do with anything?”

“She’s apparently unhappy that you didn’t resign her and was willing to tell the Committee on Infractions that you walked into the locker room at Six Boroughs after coming back from Chandrila last year and told Han Tunross that you had ‘verbal commitments’. It’s ambiguous what you were talking about, but everyone’s connecting the dots that you admitted in front of the entire team you got commitments from Morlan and Alesh to sign with the team before the end of the Super 16 season,” Sydney said.

“I had commitments for them to stay out of the Draft—a perfectly legal commitment!” Cundertol said exasperatedly. He said nothing for a second as he composed himself. “What now?” He was fully up-to-date on Fleetfire Zarmer’s total inability to break the Committee’s hearings. “They’re going to have to ask us for a response to have an appearance of impartiality.”

“They will. Knowing what they’ve got going in is huge,” Sydney said, “I’ve already sent Gondorf one of those fruit bouquets.”

“A what?” Cundertol asked.

“You know, a fruit bouquet. One of those things where they cut the fruit and make them look like flowers? Beings love them.”

Cundertol rolled his eyes. “Continue.”

“We know how the GCAA is going to come at us. We don’t have much room for a defense, but we have to make them understand what you actually said to the Hapans,” Sydney said, “And you were the only other person in the room.” Sydney paused. “Right?” he confirmed. He didn’t want to be surprised now.

“Yes, it was just the three of us,” Cundertol said impatiently, “I wasn’t about to have that conversation in public.”

“I would have preferred that you had somebody else to corroborate. It’s going to be two against one, even if Alesh and Morlan didn’t realize what they were saying damned you,” Sydney said, “Our only choice is to depose you.”

“When?”

“As soon as you get back to Bakura.”

Cundertol furrowed his brow. “The GCAA isn’t headquartered on Bakura.”

“I said I need to depose you, not have you testify. If I take you into the Committee, Feizal will get a shot at you and she’ll tear you to pieces,” Sydney stated.

“You think too highly of her. I’ll be fine.”

“You think you will, but you won’t. The Smug Dragon will go over badly with the Committee,” Sydney said, “and two can play at this game when it comes to cross-examinations and lack thereof.”

“Do you have a plan?” Cundertol asked.

“Yeah. We’re hitting back.”

Tag: No one

IC: Meredith Chambers

Nar Shaddaa

Chambers burst into her apartment, panting hard, another serious work out to keep in shape. Her mind was still churning the criticism leveled against her by the media after her physical abilities had been publicly called into question by an unnamed source. She was sure it was someone in the locker room. Someone who wanted the old Chambers back. The woman who could block anything, the woman who could lower the blast shield and deny teams a victory.

But those days looked to be in the rear-view mirror. Sure, she worked her body hard, hadn’t felt pain in her reconstructed knee in some time, but something had changed. Her head was still in the game, at least, she thought it was. Her body, however, was telling her that maybe it was time to consider hanging up the cleats. The vertical jump, her trademark move, was toast. And maybe she could rest easy on her laurels. Maybe. After all, she’d accomplished everything she ever wanted to do in the world of Limmie. She’d won three Galactic Cup championships, numerous awards, scared the pants off most opposing teams’ offenses, and mentored a younger generation of professional players into something resembling a defense. Besides, the Hall of Fame was calling, or would, she imagined.

So how do you top a Galactic Cup victory in your own home in arguably the greatest venue in the entire galaxy?

You don’t. You just sit there and enjoy every moment, every piece of ticker tape and confetti that comes down from the rafters, every boo, every cheer, every drop of filthy Gundarkade, because you never know when its going to last. You never know when you’re going to be blind-sided by a cheap shot and have to watch Limmie from the couch. She now knew how Rhia Grames, Tover Micjaa, Selene Minn, and Mithus Sekel, all Smuggler greats in their own right, had felt as their careers were winding down toward that last game, toward that last victory, toward that last defeat, toward the last time they’d ever put on their cleats and proudly wear the burgundy jersey of the Vertical City.

All of this reflecting on her life as a Limmie player had prompted her to cry. The tears were hot and stung her cheeks. She wanted to go on, she really wanted to keep playing, but it was hard. Those hits from opponents hurt more than ever now. Blazing fast Limmie balls hurled into her body from younger, faster, stronger players really beat her up. The reflexes were still there, her eyes were working well for her, but the game had changed. She had changed. The league had changed.

Now there was a draft. Now there was a high interest in the college game. Now there were developmental leagues. None of that existed when she first started and if it did, nobody really paid any attention to anything but professional Limmie. New teams had arrived on the ELL scene, teams from planets she’d never even heard of before. Gone were the stalwarts of Chandrila, Mon Calamari, Denon, Corellia, and Kashyyyk. And still, more changes were coming. There was a big change taking place on Nar Shaddaa as she quietly reflected in her apartment.

The Holonet set in the corner of the apartment said it all, had been left on for her pet vornskyr who didn’t like silence.

“Breaking news from the Vertical City,” the reporter began, “Nar Shaddaa will end nearly seventy years of hegemonic rule by a foreign government and return to its rightful place under the sovereignty and protection of the Hutts. All currency will revert back to that used on Nal Hutta and any citizens of the RTO living on Nar Shaddaa may have dual citizenship with the Hutt government. This historic agreement was brought about by newfound cooperation and friendship between the RTO and the Hutts who recently joined forces to remove a dangerous warlord from destroying the fabric of the economic union. In the spirit of peace and friendship, the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers will remain under the Vehn families control.

“In other news, a new center for the research and prevention of the effects of head injury sustained by professional athletes in the game of Limmie has opened today in the Vertical City. The Mithus Sekel Center, named for one of Nar Shaddaa’s own defensive backs who won a Galactic Cup with the team in 249, is now accepting all Limmie veterans for free visits, follow-up appointments, research, and diagnosis. If you remember, Mithus Sekel took his own life in 268 and left a suicide note detailing that his brain be used to study the impact of hard hits in the league. Sekel, a fan favorite and life of the party, has been dearly missed by friends and family. A spokesman for the family stated, ‘I hope that by opening this new medical center the league will take a long, hard, look at the game of Limmie and make changes so as to make the game safer. How many more of our stars need to die before the league takes concussions and traumatic brain injury seriously? No parent should have to bury their child as a result of a game. No parent.’”

“Despite our best efforts to contact the league office for comment on this story, there has only been silence. We presume that Commissioner Kayl’hen is taking this matter very seriously and will weigh in when appropriate. Coming up next, Fyre Storm with Carly Fyres. See what the sports world thinks about the aging Meredith Chambers. Will she ever return to her—“

Chambers clicked the set off.

“Go frak yourself,” she grunted as she collapsed onto the couch feeling as if her career was spiraling out of control.

Tag: @Trieste

IC: Lucie Vigo


As if Lucie did not have enough to worry about with Coach sending her a gift she was also facing a road trip to Ryloth, home of the best dancers in the Galaxy. She decided not to go for her run after discovering the coat. She did try it on, and admire herself in front of the mirror for a while. The coat was elegant, yet warm, beautiful, but not flashy. Of course she wanted nothing more than to keep the coat. Part of her wanted to go meet Coach for their run, but another part of her felt that all of this was wrong. She boxed it back up, pushed the furniture against the walls, put on some music and began to practice some dance moves.

Within only a few minutes Lucie was lost in the beat of the music. A routine began to form in her mind so she grabbed a data pad to jot down the moves as she went. By the time she left for rehearsal later that day she was sure her routine was good enough to impress any species even the Twi’lek’s. Now all she had to do was teach her team and she had 5 days. As she prepared to leave her apartment she wondered what would be more difficult avoiding coach or teaching her team the new moves.

For four days Lucie actually avoided coach and was pleased with the progress of her team. But just in time for the final dress rehearsal coach showed up in front of the studio. "I hope you haven’t been ill, I know a few of the players had some major sniffles after last week’s game” he said with concern.

“Just busy with work this week, that’s all” she said trying to brush him off and go into the rehearsal room.

He gently touched her shoulder so she would wait a minute. “Did you get the coat I sent?” he asked.

“I did” she began, and then she decided to just be bold and say what was really on her mind. She braced herself and said “You are a married man I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t seek me out for runs, flirt with me or send me anymore gifts.”

Lucie did not have the guts to see Coach’s reaction. She quickly made her way past Coach and into the studio. She knew he would not follow her. Not into a room full of her dancers. She wasn’t sure if this would finally be over, but she could hope.



Dress rehearsal was more stressful than she anticipated. After six hours she was decided she was as satisfied as she could be and she let everyone head home for some rest before the travel day ahead.

Whether all the hard work paid off or not Lucie would never know. Performing for an away crowd was never rewarding. She liked the routine enough though and decided to use it again at home. Losing also put a damper on the trip. The Starkillers only put 12 points on the board.

After the long shuttle ride back to Ralltirr, Lucie made her way back to her apartment only to find another package. Her heart stopped. It was smaller than the last one so she picked it up as discretely as possible and quickly took it inside. This time she was even more surprised. Flowers. This was a gift that could not be mistaken for anything aside from affection. The note attached said “I would like to explain. Please meet me for dinner” The name and address of a restaurant was Lucie never even heard of on the other side of the planet was printed on the next section. “I will pick you up tomorrow evening. Please give me a chance.” Lucie didn’t even need to look at who had signed the card.

@ no one

IC: Jenna Leed

It's been awhile since Jenna heard from Zeke, she hopes he is doing fine. The fact that he has got alot on his shoulders with the news media on his back. She heard the rumors of him using PEDS. She couldn't believe he would actually do that. Could he be that stupid to actually take those stupid drugs. His body would give out eventually from it. That wasn't the worse of it. She also heard that he got his former girlfriend pregnant. This had hurt Jenna the most. Was this before they were together or during. Either way Jenna didn't know how to react to this news. She cried and cried for several nights but not allowing anyone to know that she had been. She knew that she had to talk to him soon. She can't avoid him much longer.

Good thing she still had Limmie to cling to and keep her mind off of things. Even if it was just temporarily. The Crazy Dragons had just beaten the Mercs in a relatively low scoring game. Still they won and it gave Jenna something to smile about. Though Limmie was more than just a game to her it was her career it wasn't enough to keep her thinking about during her down time. She couldn't get Zeke's face out of her mind nor the ex girlfriend as well. This had been such a nightmare time for her that Jenna would love to crawl up in to a little ball. If only she could do that and not be noticed.

"Oh Zeke why did you do it?

She said to herself knowing that he couldn't hear her. She was glad of that cause right now she didn't think she could face him. This news left her devastated. Drugs is one thing but pregnancy is another. She didn't know if she could handle it. Only time can tell.


TAG: No one

GM Post

Bonus rolls to Bakura, Coruscant, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, Onderon, and Ralltiir.

Week 5 Results

Ryloth Rough Riders at Euceron Storm (19-29)
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Rydonni Prime Monarchs (38-22)
Bakura Miners at Vandelhelm Jets (39-4)
Onderon Crazy Dragons at Ralltiir Starkillers (40-13)
Mando’ade Mercs at Coruscant Senators (24-40)

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

GM Post
Euceron Stadium, Euceron

The Commissioner made it a point to watch a game in person every week. It was good policy to make the rounds of the League and see how things were going. While the schedule didn't allow her to make it out to every stadium in a given season, she made sure to see them all within a two year rotation and she always saw every team play at least once during the season. The fact that Euceron had just finished installing their roof prior to this season made it a logical choice that she'd get out to see the Storm this season. It was a good thing she hadn't chosen an earlier game too. The thought of the malfunctioning roof and having to sit in the snow was not an appealing one. The Bothan's fur rippled at the thought of the cold.

Though Kayl'hen preferred to keep things low key, she always alerted both teams when she saw a game that she'd be there. They usually liked to make a fuss, which she allowed because that way the teams felt like they were properly recognizing the Commissioner. For her part, she was just interested in the game. And the Rough Rider-Storm contest was looking like the best game of the week given the other scores coming in from around the League--almost complete blowouts to a game.

Niakara felt a touch on her shoulder. She turned her head and it was Gondorf taking a seat next to her.

"Esther," Kayl'hen said.

"News from Kamino," Gondorf said quietly, "There's been a massive prison break. Taab is unaccounted for. He may have been the primary target of the break. A lot is unclear right now, but authorities are investigating."

Kayl'hen grimaced. "Idiot Mandalorians. Idiots."

"Even if he is innocent of the charges, he's not going to look it now, not in the eyes of the galaxy," Gondorf said.

"We need to have a sit down with Vhett. Now that Taab is a fugitive, we need to make it very clear that the Mercs are in no way controlled by Taab," Kayl'hen said.

"I'll see to it," Gondorf said.

"What about that matter with the Miners? Any movement?"

"I spoke with that cocky-as-hell attorney that they hired. He and Quinn Cundertol must be best friends," Esther said.

"And?" Kayl'hen's eyes were on the game as she listened.

"I told him that if they don't take care of things, there will be repercussions," Gondorf said.

"You told him that we'd almost certainly bar them from the Draft--assuming that the Board of Governors doesn't kick them out for pulling these sort of shenanigans?" Kayl'hen said. That last bit was a very strong possibility. Given the prowess of Alesh and Morlan, the other owners would not be so pleased that Cundertol had maneuvered them out of the Draft where they would have had a shot at them.

"No," Esther replied, "I don't think it needed saying."

"If these attorneys are as good as you say they are, then they don't need to be told," Kayl'hen said, "And the report on head injury that's in the works?"

"It's in the works," Esther said noncommittally.

"Keep me updated," Niakara said, "Everything proceeding nicely for the Final on Coruscant?"

"Everything's great. Just minor chatter from Coruscant security officials. Nothing big. They said two of their best inspectors are onto something, but nothing we should be concerned about. They'll be good to go by the time that the Final takes place."

"Good. It'd be a shame for the first Final on Coruscant in nearly three decades to be marred in any way," Kayl'hen said, "Anything else?"

"Nope. No word from authorities on Ryloth on the Barbosa matter. Local reports have named him as the player in question. We couldn't keep it under our hat forever," Gondorf said, "I don't think that there's been any negative fallout. Our swift action helped to keep that from being a big deal. Only other thing that we've had pop up are a couple complaints from traditionalist prudes about those dancers on Ralltiir."

Kayl'hen rolled her eyes. "There's always a critic." She was just going to ignore that "problem". Innovation was a good thing and it was never a bad thing to get some teenage males in the stands. After all, lifelong fans had to start somewhere.

Tag: @Bardan_Jusik @jcgoble3 @Jedi Gunny @JediMaster_1977 @Liam_Vehn

IC: Gark S’rily
Bursya Field at Andromeda Steel Corp. Stadium

“What?” Gark said. “What do you mean entire offense?” He had just received the Mercs’ injury report for the game, and it just happened to basically have the entire Mercs Front 6 on it. Ryi Kor’le, the star forward, would be out for the game with “flu-like symptoms”. And so were her “brethren” clones, who were also going to be out.

“That’s what it says,” Palla replied.

“I don’t like this,” Gark said. “How can a virus like this only spread to one part of a Limmie team? Illnesses are not picky like that; they don’t discriminate. But this is the Mercs we’re talking about, and I don’t trust them.” He went over to the security guard posted in the locker room.

“I want extra-tight security on this place, effective immediately,” he said. The guard nodded and started to relay the order in to the other security officers.

“What the hell are you doing?” Palla said.

“Palla, I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my time with this team, so I’ve developed funny feelings about situations before. And this one makes my entire spine tingle; something seems out of place. I usually give someone a benefit of the doubt, but when we’re talking about the Mercs, whose owner is in the big house for murder, and whose players just love taking contracts on people’s lives for fun during the offseason, I can’t risk anything. The flu doesn’t just happen to hit certain individuals; if there really was an outbreak in their locker room, it would have affected more than just these individuals. They’re up to something, and I just want to make sure that they aren’t trying to sabotage this game.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” Palla said. “Kayl’hen would kick them out of the league for sure after that. It’s not worth it.”

“I don’t believe they will either,” Gark said. “But I’m taking the precautions anyways. I’ve had people take hits on my life before; I’m not about to let it happen again.”

Once the security was in place, Gark finally confronted his team. They were hungry for another win here today. “This is going to be a tough game, as always,” he began. “The Mercs never give us any peace here; in fact, we’ve never beaten them here at home before. Never. And they’re going to try to keep it that way. Our job is to play our game and stop them from establishing control.

From the injury report this week, it looks like their star players are out with ‘flu’ symptoms. I don’t believe that one bit, but it means that they won’t play today. This includes Kor’le,” he said. Jerek looked dejected at not getting to lay in a few hits on the star forward. “What this does mean is that we’ll get more of their bulk on offense from the reserves. We’re going to match up with larger, yet slower, forwards. This is something that we’ve seen before, and we will be ready. Dirxx, I’m going to ask you and the defense to play tight coverage on all of their forwards. Don’t give them an inch to work in, because if given room they will push their bulk into you. You all need to make sure that you get in the first hit. We may typically have a size advantage in our games when it comes to defense, but now we need to play smart Limmie and do what we can to re-gain the advantage.

Offense, you slowed down a little last week, but I know for a fact that you still have it. Keep that ball moving, take good shots, and set screens for your teammates. Make sure you keep the ball out of their hands, because then we dictate the pace of this game.

I don’t need to remind you how big a game this is. As it stands now, the rest of our conference will be in a logjam after this week. We need to make sure that we push to the front, and then stay there. This is a big game, and we need to step up accordingly. Now let’s go out there and take it. Two wins down, five more to go. We can do this.”

---

This game was no contest. Without their star forwards, the Mercs failed to find consistent traction against the Senators defense and Venn Sto. The veteran Shistavanen, although his defense sometimes made him work harder than normal, made quite a few solid plays between the pipes that kept Mercs points off the board. Gark had been right about the opposing team using their bulk to try and win; his defenders had to work harder than normal to push them back. As such, he used his typical defensive rotation scheme to keep defenders fresh and ready to fight. It had worked, as the defense bended but didn’t break. 24 points had been put on the board against them, which wasn’t optimal. But it had been enough to win, and that was all that mattered now.

On offense, Polis Vayne had been shut down, scoring only one goal the entire game. The Mercs had done an excellent job narrowing in on him and keeping the ball out of his hands. Unfortunately, Polis wasn’t the only scorer on the Senators team. His teammates, spurred on by lighter coverage, scored in droves. Jet Adama, who had been mostly a non-factor all season, came to play, notching a pair of goals on his way to 9 points on the day. Rookie sensation Demetra Silkins added a pair of goals as well, and with Alysha Romax absolutely dominated the middle of the field during the game. The midfielders for the Senators kept the ball moving on offense, fought with their counterparts for every possession, and on defense made sure that the ball had to go to the Front 6 or risk being cut off. Izzi Polakaya turned in her best game of the season off the bench, making the Mercs pay for coming into her territory.

As the game wound down, Venn was pulled from the goal and allowed to sit on the bench along with the other starters. As he walked off the field, the crowd began to chant “M-V-P! M-V-P!” It was true; in his three starts this season, he had been a force to be reckoned with. Although Gark knew that he likely wouldn’t even be nominated for the award at the end of the season, Venn was still a solid piece to have in the fold.

After the initial euphoria of winning the game wore off, the team knew that it had to buckle down for the next game. A road game at Bakura Gardens against a strong Miners team. The winner would likely be on top of the conference and in good shape for a playoff spot. The loser would be stuck in a logjam and have their destiny in their hands. It was going to be a tough game, as it always was. But the Senators were going to be ready.

OOC: Yes, I know that Goreal Sepuin is a Zeltron, not a Human. So just imagine the gifs are of a Zeltron. And yes, I've been saving them precisely for the Jets game. Because you know what? @jcgoble3 is right--it is awesome to have an NPC team.

IC: Sydney Talon
The Inky Raven, Salis D’aar, Bakura

For the moment, Sydney Talon was not thinking of the GCAA investigation into the Miners. He was sitting back watching the utter demolition of the Vandelhelm Jets with a huge grin on his face.

After three straight years of near-total domination of the Elite League, the Jets were flaming out—big time. As in spectacular crash and burn. These guys were playing so badly against the Miners that Sydney wasn’t even sure that they could justify continuing in the Elite League with this kind of showing.

Given the cockiness of Brooks at the start of this era of high flying Jets, Sydney was enjoying this to the hilt.

After the 271 Galactic Cup Final, a high scoring game was to be expected. And sure enough, the Miners came ready to play. They were torching Ordon Sundqvist like none other today. Say what you would about Valerii—she had this Vandelhelm defense absolutely nailed. Nothing that the Miners were doing was getting stopped. Ravis, usually so effective, was absolutely lost trying to cover Stormborn. Anybody else in the League would be having a career day right now, but Nanchecka and the rest of the Bakuran offense had been so high powered as of late that such things were not a given.

The best part was that Goreal Sepuin was having the most epic reaction to his team’s implosion.

The first time was when he challenged an early goal by Andersen, who had kicked the ball for a goal. Sundqvist had gotten most of it, but it had trickled across the line.

Or had it?

That was the question that Sepuin was angrily asking the refs, trying to make the case for holo review of the play to show the entire ball had crossed the line. The refs agreed and the game ground to a halt while they went under the hood. It was two minutes later that they trotted back onto the field.

“After holographic review, the previous call is confirmed. The bolo-ball clearly crossed the line,” the referee said to the boos of the home crowd—and to the tantrum of Sepuin.



Sydney actually laughed out loud when he saw it. “No way,” he said in amazement, “That did not just happen. Are you kidding me?”

But no, it had happened. Even Aerax and Lun were stunned.

“I have never seen an Elite League head coach react that way to a call before. Ever,” Aerax said.

“Wow. I mean wow,” Lun said, “That is shocking. Absolutely shocking. I think I need to have another whiskey.”

“Lun!” Aerax said, “This is live!”

“You’re right. Can I get two whiskeys over here, stat?” Lun said.

The next moment that got the Jets head coach furious was when he thought there should have been a call on Alana Glencross for holding up Petric Euwinge. As he yelled at the referees, he decided to make it patently clear to everyone in the stadium his thoughts on the situation by making a holding motion in exaggerated fashion.



“Gee, I missed the play,” Sydney said to the entire bar, “Do you think Goreal could tell me if there was any sort of penalty?” The attorney waited as they replayed slow motion footage of Sepuin making his protest. “No? No penalty Goreal? Okay, play through then.”

It was later in the second half that a penalty was called on Grondwaar for hauling down Rodders in the offensive zone got Sepuin heated again. His team was apparently literally melting before his very eyes.



“Oh my Maker,” Sydney laughed, “This is the greatest game of limmie I have ever seen. This is classic. Please say that this one is going on HSN Classic. I need a copy of this for my own personal enjoyment.” Sydney meant it. He was calling someone at BBC to get a copy of this game. He would pay very good credits to get this—even if he only got the Sepuin footage. Sure, the Miners were awesome, but Goreal Sepuin was fantastic. Like if someone said, “Would you like to see a lightsaber duel or Goreal Sepuin when he thinks his team has been wronged by referees?” Sydney would say, “Sepuin. Hands down.” In fact, this was probably going on his list of the greatest things ever.



“Boy, that escalated quickly,” Lun said on voiceover, “I mean, that really got out of hand fast!”

“Oh Force,” Sydney said still laughing when the Miners finished their rout of the Jets, “That’s just what I needed. Just what I needed.”


Tag: Everybody! Because we love to hate the Jets!

OOC: Thanks for beating me to the punch, @Bardan_Jusik .

IC: Gark S’rily
Bothancave

“So let me get this straight,” Dun Dun, scratching his chin. All of the agents were sitting at the briefing table once again, with X presiding over the session as usual. “Mornd is appearing in public at his own discretion? This sounds like a trap to me.”

“Why would he need to speak at a gallery, anyways?” Bucky asked. “I mean, I never thought he was one for art or anything . . .”

“It’s probably a cover,” Gark replied. All eyes turned to him. “Knowing Calo, he’s probably up to something larger than just an art exhibition. I suspect that there’s more going on behind closed doors than we know.”

“So, what do you suggest we do?” Bucky asked. “It’s not like they’re going to just let us waltz in and take him alive. With that army he’s assembling, it’s likely that we’d be overrun before getting in the front door.”

“What kind of sniper is afraid of a little fighting?” Dun Dun asked.

“I can’t hold off an entire horde of soldiers,” Bucky said back. “One shot at a time, Dun Dun. Some of us don’t have destructive weapons like you do that can wipe out an entire line in one shot.”

“And why not?” Dun Dun asked. “Plyer’s been rigging up some stuff for just that. I just . . .”

“I tried it out yesterday, and the grenade-launching sniper rifle almost blew my head off,” Bucky said. “It needs more work.”

“Fine, then. What are we supposed to do?” the burly man asked.

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” Gark said. “We’re going to play a little game called going undercover. And yes, we’ll definitely have to dress up for the occasion; I’m sure they won’t want us walking in with our weapons and not looking perfectly stylish.”

“I hate you,” Nat’alia said quietly in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Remember, be careful,” X said cautiously. “After that last stunt we pulled a few weeks ago, Mornd’s tightened security. Undoubtedly this place will be better defended than the warehouse was, and he probably has the correct plans under tight wraps. We got fooled into believing that we had the correct set of data, but it turns out that was fake. We need those plans in order to take him down.”

“Do we have to follow a prescribed plan, or can we just wing it this time?” Dun Dun asked.

“We’ll see when we get there,” Gark replied. This was going to be his biggest test. If X was to be believed, and there were really no issues with that, this art gallery exhibition, or whatever it really was, was going to be a tricky mission for them. But, what other choices did they have?

As the group went to suit up, Gark caught a glimpse of Me’lin, the Twi’lek operations supervisor. She looked back up at him, smiled, and gave him a little wave. Gark smiled back as he went out of sight. Man, she was one fine woman. He had known that ever since he had hired her for the secretary job with the Senators, but he had only thought of her as a co-worker, maybe even friend, before. The longer he worked with the other agents, the more connected he felt with her. It was an odd connection to make, for sure, especially for the guy who had never really had a romantic relationship in his life. But there was just . . . something about her that he liked, something that made him want to just stare at her slender frame for hours on end without a care. He doubted she felt the same way about him, though, so he knew that these thoughts would have to be shelved until later. Besides, he had a few other things to think about right now.

---

Alabast Convention Hall, Lower Depths, Coruscant



The five agents walked slowly towards the Convention Hall, each decked out in their dressy “uniforms”. Dun Dun, against his wishes, had been forced to take off his brown overcoat and put on a suit, which didn’t fit his pot belly too well. Bucky, a much lighter figure, had his suit be a size or two too large, making him look slightly ridiculous. Gark, despite wearing a sport jacket and slacks, had his hero suit hidden underneath and the mask in his pocket. Duckett did what he could to dress up, but it wasn’t a hell of a lot different than what he usually wore. But Nat, she was the star of the whole enterprise. She was wearing a flowing black dress and high heels that went “click-clack” on the ground as she walked.

“Dammit, this is why I hate heels,” she commented as they neared the Hall. “I’m going to kill you for making me wear this monkey suit,” she said to Gark.

“Hey, I think you look smashing,” Gark replied. “There are quite a few guys I know who would kill to get a chance to talk to you.”

“Not if I can kill them first,” Nat said, frowning. “Even when I’m stuck in this . . .” she said, almost tripping over the dress, “thing, I’m still a lethal force. Just watch me. When the shooting starts, I’ll be right in the middle of it.”

“I hope we won’t have to revert to that,” Gark replied. “Let’s just get in, grab the information, and get out of here.”

“You really believe we can pull that off?” Dun Dun asked.

“No, but I’m trying to be optimistic about our chances here,” Gark said. He then started to fidget with the earpiece that he had been fitted with. “Testing,” he said into it.

“I can hear you,” Me’lin said on the other end. “What’s up?”

“Uh . . .” Gark said. For once, he was speechless when talking to her. He never used to have a problem with talking to her before. But that had been before he really depended on her this much to run the show from behind the scenes. “We’re going in.”

“Good luck, and be careful” the Twi’lek said. “I’ll be following you on the monitor.”

Gark knew that she had his back, but that it felt a little weird to have her watching his every move on a screen back at the lab. But, he reasoned, if she could get him through this, then it made all of that weirdness worth it in the end.

“What’s the plan?” Bucky asked.

“We split up,” Gark said firmly.

“That’s your brilliant plan?”

“Hear me out,” the Bothan said. “Calo probably won’t have the information on him while he’s here, so we need to look for where it is. My guess is that splitting up will give us a better chance of finding it. Bucky, I need you and Duckett to come with me; we’ll cover your back as you try to get the info. You two,” he said to the others, “should blend in and see what Mornd’s up to. If X is right, he’ll probably spill the beans on his plan. Keeps people interested to know why they’re so damn important to be here tonight.”

“Risky plan,” Bucky said. “We don’t know what to expect when we get in there.”

“And I suppose we knew what we were getting into the last few times we did this?” Gark asked snidely. Bucky, realizing the truth of the statement, didn’t reply.

“This is all well and good,” Dun Dun said. “But how do we get in? We don’t have tickets or anything.”

“Leave that to me,” Gark said. He reached into his utility belt, which he had somehow fit right underneath his suit so that he didn’t have to dig too far to get it, and pulled out several pairs of shades. He then passed them out, finally donning his.

“What the hell are you thinking?” Dun Dun asked. “This will only . . .”

“Disguise,” Gark said, pointing at Dun Dun. It was hard to see in the dark, but he knew that this would be enough. “Look, here’s what we’re going to do . . .”

“I say, you forget someone?” came a voice. All of the agents wheeled around to see X come towards them, also decked out in a black suit. The human came up to them and grinned.

“What are you doing here?” Dun Dun asked.

“You really think I was going to sit this one out?” X replied. “I didn’t want to miss any of the action. Plus, you need all the help you can get.”

“I think we can hold our own,” Bucky replied.

“Well, then I’m just insurance,” X replied. “Oh, and you might need these,” he said, reaching into his pocket. Out emerged some pieces of flimsy, equaling three tickets. “The only problem is getting all of us in.”

“Got that covered,” Gark said. “Here’s my plan . . .”

The door guards, decked out in their fine white suits and slacks, watched as a sharp-dressed man approached them. He held out a ticket, and the guards opened the door for him. X entered the Hall, and then waited for the rest to arrive.

After several more people had entered, a small cadre of beings approached the doors. The guards could see two well-defined people, one a handsome-looking human with short brown hair, the other a female humanoid with fire red hair. Behind them were three others, a human, Feeorin, and Bothan, each decked out in black sport suits and wearing shades to hide their eyes.

“Who are these gentlemen?” one of the guards asked.

“Precaution,” the front man replied, in a snobby tone of voice. “You can never be too cautious, my good sir. These are my loyal bodyguards. You have an issue with them?”

“Fine, sir,” the guard blurted out, opening the door. “Welcome, and have a good time.” It was obvious that he was shocked by the response he had received, and was trying to make up for sounding rude.

“Look, son, never question me again, or you’ll find yourself sitting dead in some back alley before you’ll know what hit you. Do I make myself clear?” the man said with a sinister air to his voice. The other guard stiffened his back as the group entered. The doors were then shut behind them until the next guests would arrive.

Once inside, Nat shook her hand loose from Bucky’s grasp. “You hold my hand like we’re going on some cheap high school date,” she hissed at him.

“Bodyguards?” Dun Dun asked incredulously, pulling down his shades just enough to see ahead of him in the darkness of the lobby. “Who do you think you are?”

“What?” Bucky asked. “Just doing my job.”

“Impressive performance,” Duckett commented quietly.

“Nice work, you two,” Gark said to Bucky and Nat. “We’re in,” he said, tapping the mic to send a signal to the Bothancave.

“All right,” Me’lin said on the other side.

“Any suggestions on where to go right now would be hot,” Gark said back. He wished he could have added an “as you” in there, but that wouldn’t have made any sense. He had no idea what was coming over him all of a sudden; for some reason, he just couldn’t get her out of his head. Here he was on a high-profile mission, and yet she was the first thing on his mind. That wasn’t good . . . at least not yet.

“Looking now . . .” she said. After several moments of deliberation, she came back online. “All right, got something. The convention hall is in front of you, and has a vaulted ceiling. Somewhere up near the ceiling is a small technical room. Given what we know already, that’s where the plans will be. We just have to hope our informants were right.”

“Nothing new there,” Gark said. He looked around to make sure that no one outside of their group was eavesdropping on his conversation.

“If I may enter a suggestion here, I would split up,” the Twi’lek said. “Keep some people down below just in case. If something comes up, it would be prudent to know as quickly as possible. Especially since I don’t want you . . . I mean, all of you . . . um . . . yeah . . . getting hurt out there.”

Had Gark heard that right? But before he could say anything, he heard a click on the other end of the line, meaning that Me’lin had switched feeds. She had probably been embarrassed by what she had just said, and had remedied the situation by cutting the feed momentarily. Frankly, Gark wished she had kept the feed on so that he could have asked her something about that, especially since one never knew if this was their last mission. It certainly was going to be a dangerous operation, so knowing if Me’lin felt the same way about him than he did about her would have given him some closure. But he had no dice on that now, so he would have to drop the subject and continue with the mission.

“Plan?” Bucky asked.

“We’re going to split up as I said before,” Gark said. “Nat, Dun Dun, I need you to stay down here. Keep your eyes peeled on everyone and everything; if you see anything sketchy, comm. it in so we know to get out of there.”

“So I have to schmooze with the people? I didn’t sign up for this,” Dun Dun said indignantly.

“No one asked you,” Nat shot back. “Just hurry up, OK? If this turns into a fight, we’re not in any shape to hold them back for very long.”

“We’ll be in and out as fast as possible,” Gark said. “Let’s go,” he said to Bucky and Duckett. They then headed towards a back stairwell, making sure to look innocent as they passed several people. Meanwhile, Nat, Dun Dun, and X made their way into the main convention hall.

The hall was quite a piece of architecture. White stone had been masterfully worked by skilled masons to make the high walls, each one sparkling after a thorough cleaning. The vaulted ceiling arched up hundreds of feet into the air, the night sky silhouetting everything in the hall as it bled through the large windows. Hundreds of beings were situated throughout the hall, many clumped in small groups as they socialized with each other.

“I don’t like this,” Nat said as the three walked through the crowd. “It’s like a police list of crime kingpins playing out in front of us. See that one over there?” she asked, pointing over to a very fat blue Twi’lek, decked out in fine cloth robes and sandals and being waited on by several gorgeous Twi’lek models. “That’s ‘Slim Vinny’ Vin’esko. He’s wanted in twelve systems for being the kingpin on a large-scale spice trade operation. CorPD’s been looking to put him in the slammer for years, but every time they raid his place, the evidence all disappears. And that over there,” she said, motioning to a purple-skinned Whipid, “is Capon. He’s one of the most notorious guns-for-hire in the Core. Killed hundreds of people over the last few years, mostly using his advanced military training. But he’s also apt to use poison and arson on you. When he’s on your tail, they say, you never get him off it until you’re lying dead on the ground in a pool of your own blood.”

“Lovely,” Dun Dun said.

“ ‘Big Jim’ over there,” X said, motioning to a well-dressed human, who had several black-clad bodyguards around him as he laughed it up with a Dug and human. “Runs one of the largest black market scams on the planet. Always escapes from prison because he bribes the guards.”

“And don’t forget about the ‘Empress’ over there,” Nat said about a Zeltron woman wearing long black robes around her red night dress. “She’s done it all, really. Sleeps with men in power, and then siphons off pieces of their estates from under their noses. Grown quite a large empire under her the last few years, and yet her lovers never figure it out. She’s one smooth operator.”

“Man, this place is teeming with criminal activity,” Dun Dun said in a low tone.

“But my question is this: why does Mornd invite all of these bad apples?” Nat asked. “What does he need all of them here for?”

“It looks like a haven for those who would wish to keep their business affairs a secret,” X replied in the same hushed voice. “I know we’re all thinking it. Mornd wishes to tell them something. We just need to know what, and why.”

---

Gark pulled on his mask as he headed up the narrow staircase. It seemed like they had been climbing for ages, and yet it had only been about a hundred feet.

“Are we there yet?” Bucky asked cynically as he tried to keep up with the Bothan.

“Almost,” Gark replied. Finally, his foot hit the top step, and he pulled the blaster off his utility belt. When the other two joined him, he began to speak again. “We need to get in and get out,” he started. “Bucky, find a place to hide for a while, and keep us covered. Duckett, I’ll take you in from here. Whatever happens, just keep on going. We’ve got your back.”

“Fine,” the Feeorin said.

Ahead of them was a short catwalk and a door. Gark slowly opened the door, only to find another door in front of it. “Someone wants a little protection for their stuff,” he commented in a low tone. Looking inside, he quickly saw a few men in black suits in the room. “Baddies at ten ‘o clock,” he said, hitting the deck as fast as he could to not be seen.

“Now what?” Duckett asked.

“We’re going in real quiet-like,” Gark replied. It was then that he noticed a small passage to the side. Holding his blaster up in case he needed to fire off a quick shot, he slipped into the passageway. After a few short steps, he could see the entire room from above. It was then that he saw something that he didn’t necessarily like. Ja’mes Karter, the Lieutenant from CorPD who had been at the warehouse, was being held captive by several of the suit-wearing thugs.



“Come on,” Gark said.

“And blow our cover?” Duckett asked.

“Hey, you!” came a voice. One of the thugs was pointing up at Gark from the floor below.

“Cover blown,” Gark said. With a shrug, he jumped down into the room below. The thugs not preoccupied with fighting Karter and Lee turned around to face him. Duckett also jumped down, landing with a thud on his meaty feet. The thugs then charged at them, fists at the ready. Gark caught the punch of the nearest thug, and then twisted his arm to the ground. The thug hit the deck, writhing in pain. Duckett promptly clotheslined a thug in the head, causing the man to flip up into the air and come down hard on his back. Gark then got caught up in a fistfight with a thug, who managed to land a blow or two before Gark overpowered him and sent a cross chop into the head region, downing the thug.

After a minute of fighting, all of the thugs were on the ground. Gark looked up after finishing off the last one, only to see the CorPD agents looking at him.

“We meet again,” he commented simply.

“You?” Lee said, flabbergasted.

“Hey, man, that info you gave us was messed up!” Karter exclaimed loudly. “It didn’t work or anything! Stop messing with us, man. It ain’t cool!”

“Didn’t work for us either,” Gark said. “We got fooled.”

“This time, stay out of our way,” Karter replied quickly. “We’re going to get that information, and then get out of here with it.”

“And how are you going to do that?” Duckett asked.

“Just watch me,” Karter said, annoyed.

“Karter,” Lee said cautiously, but Karter would not stand down.

“I should’ve whipped yo’ asses last time when I had the chance!” He brought up his fists like he was really going to do something, but Lee had to restrain him. “Lee, let go ‘o me!” he exclaimed.

“Karter, we have to do something now. Don’t get yourself killed,” his work partner replied firmly.

“You should listen to him,” Gark said.

“Fine,” Karter said, bringing his fists down. “But you stay out of our way,” he said, then pointing at the two agents.

“That’s not hard,” Gark said in a low tone.

Right then, the door burst open, and several more troopers entered the room. But one of them was unlike the others; this one wasn’t even clad in trooper armor. Instead, he seemed to be one of the waiters that was serving drinks downstairs. That figured. He held a large blaster in his hand, and kept it aloft menacingly. “Freeze!” he yelled.

Gark kicked the blaster out of the man’s hand, but was then tripped up by one of the troopers and fell flat onto the ground, where he was then kicked several times in the back. Duckett, moving forwards, clocked the waiter in the head with a meaty hand, and then cleared the foes off of Gark’s back with a huge kick that sent them flying. But more troopers kept flooding into the room. It was like the warehouse scene all over again. Karter stood to fight, but Lee urged him to run. They both ran out of a back staircase, followed by half of the soldiers.

“Wait, I see something!” Duckett said. He moved over to a HoloNet terminal and flipped it on. “Here’s what we want!”

“That’s great,” Gark said. “But I’m a little busy at the moment!” he said, exasperated, as enemies came down on him from all sides. He punched one thug in the face, then sent a roundabout kick to clear three more of them. Grabbing his fighting stick, he extended it and then whacked two more soldiers in the side to down them. But more kept flooding into the room, and he wasn’t sure he could hold all of them off. One trooper fired a blaster shot at him, which Gark barely dodged as he finished off a thug with a smack to the head from the stick.

Duckett began to download the file from the HoloNet terminal, but when he was attacked by several troopers, he stood up and tossed the chair at the offending beings. All three soldiers were hit in the midsection by the chair and downed instantly. “Fifteen percent downloaded!” he commented.

Gark sighed; how much longer was this going to take?

---

“Ladies and gentlebeings, here to welcome you tonight, is your special host, Calo Mornd!” came a voice over the loudspeakers. All motion stopped, and private conversations were dropped instantly. Mornd, dressed sharply in a white tuxedo like the waiters, came up to the podium.

“I want to welcome you all for coming out tonight for my gala,” Mornd said. “It’s an honor to see many of you here tonight whom I have already met, and for those who I have not met yet, I look forward to it. But, down to business. Why you all are here. I called this gala not because I wanted to dress fancily . . . although that certainly is an added bonus . . . but because I need to know something. Will you all support my plans? Now, most of you probably don’t know what those are at this point, so I will explain them to you in detail.”

The next few minutes, he explained his plans. And, yes, in painstaking detail. With each passing minute, the crowd seemed to get more interested in his schemes. Mornd was a man of action, and the assembled crowd of crime lords and smugglers was ready to follow him.

“Now, enjoy tonight’s festivities, because I am certain that this won’t be the last time we will get together to celebrate,” Mornd said. “Thank you very much for your time, and enjoy yourselves.” A huge round of applause followed Mornd as he descended from the podium. The three agents looked at each other, not quite sure what to make of that speech.

“Now what?” Dun Dun whispered quietly as the chatter began to flow back into the crowd.

“Ideally, we’d kill him,” Nat said. “But that’s impossible now. We need to pump as much information from him as possible, because that speech neglected to say how he was going to accomplish those goals.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Dun Dun asked. “We can’t exactly ask him for a blueprint of his master plans!”

The comm. unit then buzzed. “A little help here would be nice,” Gark said over the line.

“What do you mean?” Nat asked.

“We’ve found a few . . . friends,” Gark said, emphasizing the word. “Our cover’s been blown.”

Nat just cut the line. “We need to move fast,” she said to the other two. “They’ve been spotted.”

“Great,” X said.

“What can we do?” Dun Dun asked. “If it was up to me, I’d just rig this place to blow so that we could kill Mornd off and all his lackeys.”

“And have the cops after us for murder?” Nat said. “Not what we want.”

“Then what do you suggest?” X asked.

“We go with the flow. Find out as much as we can, and then get out of here,” Nat replied. She waded into the crowd, disappearing almost instantly. X shrugged, and then followed her into the mass of bodies. Dun Dun, checking his ammunition supply quickly, brought up the rear.

---

Gark smacked a trooper down with his stick, sending the man flying onto the ground to join his downed comrades. “What about now?” he exclaimed.

“It’s done downloading!” Duckett remarked. The Feeorin ejected his hard drive from the terminal, slapped a trooper down with a backhand move, and then joined Gark as the troopers kept on coming.

“What now?” Gark asked.

“Make a break for it,” the Feeorin replied. “They have us cornered otherwise.”

“All right, then,” Gark said. “Bucky, we’re on our way out. Cover us.”

“Copy that,” Bucky said.

Letting out a battle cry, the two agents charged forwards into the stream of troopers. The soldiers, taken aback by this maneuver, paused momentarily, giving the agents enough time to make their move. Trooper after trooper went down as the agents pressed forwards, knocking any thugs they could reach out of their way. By the time they hit the top of the stairwell, they knew that it was going to be a long fight to get down. A shot came whizzing from out of the air, and a trooper fell down limply as another victim of Bucky’s sniper rifle.

It was a real slugfest to get down the stairs. Troopers kept coming from above and down below, leaving the two agents in a sea of black armor. Bucky tried to join them, but he was cut off due to the mass of bodies. Matters became worse when one of the thugs called in the alert, and the alarm klaxons started to sound. “Our cover’s blown!” Gark yelled to Duckett as he sent a trooper flying down the stairs to the nearest landing, where he landed with a loud thud.

“I have an idea!” Duckett said. He shot out an ascension gun, the anchor making contact with the top ledge.

“What are you doing?” Gark exclaimed, knocking down another thug with a haymaker to the face.

“Follow me!” the Feeorin said. He jumped over the side of the railing, and then began to descend as the cable on his gun extended. Gark followed suit, as did Bucky, and the three agents began to bypass entire sections of stairs by going down the central area between the outer railings. By the time the cables had been maxed out, they were almost to the bottom. The troopers, caught by surprise, had to run down the stairs in pursuit, giving the agents time to make their next move.

“Almost there!” Bucky shouted.

The three burst through the stairwell door and out into the lobby. It was here that they were caught up in a stream of bodies, as guests were scrambling to leave after hearing the klaxons wail. It was going to be a tough fight to get into the main hall, which was now filling up with more black-clad guards.

“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Gark commented. He charged towards one of the guards, flipping the trooper up in the air by coming in and making contact low and towards the man’s center of gravity. The trooper flipped over backwards and landed hard on the polished stone ground. By this time, there were few guests left in the hall, just guards. When the enemy had realized that the agents were the only ones left, they barricaded the doors to prevent them from escaping. Mornd was nowhere in sight; he must have fled as the sirens began to sound.

Another guard went down as Gark slammed him in the foot and then finished the guard off with a shot to the head. The man landed hard on his back, reeling in pain from the solid hit. Another soldier came forwards, but he was also downed as Gark nailed him in the groin with an uppercut move that sent the man crumpling to the ground.

A shotgun-sound echoed around the hall, and a trooper fell down after being shot in the chest. Dun Dun stepped forwards, pumping his blaster carbine as he did so.

“What took you so long?” Gark exclaimed.

“Taking our time,” Dun Dun replied.

Over in the distance, Gark could see Nat take down several troopers with ease. She sent out a vicious kick to the face of a soldier, and then let one of her high heeled shoes fly into the air and sideswipe another trooper in the face. Doing the same with the other shoe, she was freed of the confines of those dreaded “luxury” items and better able to do her job. Sending an elbow to the gut of another thug, she grabbed a tray of food off a buffet table and smacked it into the face of yet another soldier. Nearby, X shot a thug, and then began to wrestle with another one who was trying to get the blaster out of X’s grip.

Gark, pursued by several troopers, jumped into a large wheel that had been part of the architecture of the building. It was an odd fixture in the hall, that was for sure. It looked like a waterwheel, one that someone would find on a watery planet for small-time agriculture or crafting. Gark plowed through the barricade preventing people from crawling on it, and jumped inside. Two troopers, armed with shock batons, jumped in after him. The force of these landings caused the wheel to break free from its moorings, and it began to slowly roll away from the wall. Gark pulled out his fighting stick, unlocked each section of it, and then brought it down in front of him.

Then the fight began. The troopers charged forwards, or as fast as you can when stuck in a moving wheel. Gark dodged the swipe of one baton and then fended the other off with his own weapon. Taking the offensive, he sent out a kick that almost caused him to fall to the bottom of the wheel as he went. One of the troopers, taking the bait, slipped up and landed on the bottom of the interior portion of the wheel. Gark slapped the trooper with his stick, and the man slumped out of the moving wheel.

Grabbing hold of a spoke on the wheel, Gark hauled himself up to the top of the wheel. For a second, it looked like he was safe, but then the other trooper came into view and landed near Gark. Both men stared each other down for a split second before resuming the fight. It was devilishly difficult to stay aloft on the top of a moving wheel, because one false step could send you careening off the side onto a hard floor below.

Parry, parry, block, dodge, swipe, block, repeat. That was how the fight seemed to be going, neither combatant giving an inch. Gark knew that he could easily have dispatched this guard had he been on level territory, but the spinning of the wheel and the unstable footing evened the playing field. Another swipe by his weapon was blocked by the guard, who then came down on a side move. Gark parried this blow and got locked in a battle of short lunges. Neither combatant was getting in any solid blows; all they were doing was feinting attacks and defending at the same exact time, which caused their weapons to be in front of them the entire time.

Finally, Gark was able to break through, and slapped the guard’s foot with his weapon as the other combatant went too high on the strike. The guard leaped up in pain, and was then fell off the side of the wheel after failing to maintain his balance. Gark took a sigh of relief; he had finally defeated this guard. Then he turned around, only to see the wall coming up on him. There was no time to react, and the wheel collided roughly with the wall. Gark was thrown from his perch, and the only thing that saved him was fortuitously landing in the interior well of the wheel after impact. The wheel tipped over onto its side, and Gark crawled out of the top portion. He was dazed, but not out.

“Are you all right?” came Me’lin’s voice. “What happened?”

“Remind me to never again fight an enemy while on a moving wheel,” Gark said, shaking his head to clear the mental fog that had developed on impact.

“Should I ask why?” the Twi’lek inquired.

“Just don’t,” Gark replied.

“But, how are you doing?” Me’lin asked. There, she had put emphasis on that word again. “I mean, how’s the fight going?”

“Well enough, I guess,” Gark said. “Wait,” he then exclaimed. A trooper had come running at him. Gark leveled out his blaster and gunned the man down from twenty feet away. “OK. Um . . . it looks like the lobby has been cut off by enemy troopers. Are there any other ways out of here?”

“Let me check,” Me’lin said. There was a long pause on the comm. channel.

Meanwhile, Karter and Lee were in real trouble. The troopers up on the catwalks above the hall had backed the two men into a corner. One false move, and they would plummet several stories to their deaths. “Lee! Any ideas?” Karter shouted.

“Don’t look down!” Lee replied.

Karter wobbled, looking down as he did so. “Lee, I’m looking down!” he yelled. “Help!” he shouted.

Duckett looked up from the hall below. He could see the two CorPD agents being backed up onto the support beams above. Although he didn’t like Karter’s attitude, he knew that he had to do something. Taking out a trooper as he ran, Duckett made his way over to an oversized banner. Grabbing the bottom of it, he looked back up. “Jump!” he yelled up at them.

“Jump? Are you crazy?” Karter yelled back.

“Just do it!” Duckett exclaimed. The two agents looked at each other, and then dove down towards the banner. Their hands failed to grasp the material, but due to Duckett grabbing the bottom end the flag was an effective slide. The two men rocketed down at high speed towards the Feeorin. Then, several troopers converged on Duckett, who used one hand to try and fend them off. But then a trooper slapped his other hand, and the flag went limp. Karter and Lee started into a free-fall, screaming as they went. Duckett noticed this, and after disposing of the offending trooper, grabbed the flag again. Karter and Lee landed back on the slide, and then slid off the end. Karter landed hard on his the ground, but Lee jumped right up and sent a kick into a trooper than sprawled him out flat.

The hall was a battle zone. Dun Dun mowed down troopers right and left with his various weapons, Bucky occasionally sniped soldiers down, X did his fair share, Nat was putting a whooping on them with her hands, and Gark himself was doing some damage.

“OK, got your information,” Me’lin finally said.

“What took you so long?” Gark exclaimed.

“It takes a lot of avenues to get the right information,” the Twi’lek said.

“Just spit it out!” Gark said. “We’re running out of time!”

“It looks like the lobby is your only way out,” Me’lin replied, sighing.

“Great,” Gark grumbled. “That figures.”

“But, knowing you and the crew, you’ll find a way.”

“I hope so,” Gark said, cutting the connection. “Dun Dun!”

“Yeah?” the burly man said, firing off another shot.

“We’re trapped in here. Can you clear us another exit?” the Bothan asked.

“Sure thing. But I’ll need cover,” Dun Dun replied.

“Regroup!” Gark yelled. The agents began to back in towards Dun Dun, opening up a path for the man to run to the wall. He pulled out a roll of detonator tape, cutting it with his teeth as he set up a blast zone.

“Together again, eh?” Nat commented as the group fell into a small semi-circle to protect Dun Dun’s flank. She was looking with disdain at Karter, who looked back at her like a man who had just seen a smokin’ hot woman. According to Karter’s mind, he had.

“Damn!” he said, looking at her with interest. “I need to get your number, or something. I mean, DAMN!”

“Charmed,” Nat said spitefully, turning back to the action in front of her. The troopers were closing in, their black armor filling up the space.

“Hurry up!” Bucky exclaimed.

“Give me a minute!” Dun Dun shouted back.

The small group began to fight back. Gark did some fistfighting with a trooper before sending the soldier down onto the ground with a swipe from his leg. Nat, who had been grabbed at the midsection by a thug, brought her elbows down on the man’s head. Although jolts of pain shot through her arms after she made contact, the man’s grip loosened, and he slumped to the ground. X gunned down several troopers, but was then sent flying by a hard punch. Bucky was firing off as many shots as he could, but without aiming he wasn’t making much contact. Karter was getting the daylights kicked out of him, and Lee was surrounded by five troopers. “Karter!” he yelled.

“Lee!” Karter shouted back. He was then accosted by a soldier, who he somehow managed to slap down on his way to Lee.

“Got it!” Dun Dun exclaimed.

“Punch the trigger, you big lug!” Nat shouted.

Dun Dun dove for cover and then pulled the trigger. The blast tape detonated as it was supposed to, blowing a hole in the side of the convention center. The group began to fall back, but Gark could feel his mask being pulled off. Finally, it slipped free completely, revealing his face. Sending a kick into the trooper’s chest, Gark sent the man to the ground. He then put his mask back on and dove out the hole created by the explosion after the others. The troopers hastened to follow, but Bucky was ready for them. He sniped a pillar from outside, breaking it free from its portion of ceiling. Tiles fell from the ceiling, and then the pillar came down with a sickening crunch. The hole was now partially blocked by the pillar, giving the agents enough time to escape. Gark and his crew hurried on their way back to the Bothancave, while Karter and Lee caught a taxi away from the scene. It had been a close escape, one that had in many instances looked impossible. But they had the files they needed, and some information on at least pieces of Mornd’s plan. Things were looking up.



When the crew returned to the Bothancave, Me’lin was immediately there. “Are you all right?” she asked the group, running through the doorway at top speed.

“Mostly,” Dun Dun said. “That was hairy for a while.”

“But we managed to get the information we needed,” Duckett said, holding up his hard drive.

“Overall, another not-so-easy mission,” Gark commented.

“What do you expect?” Dun Dun asked. “Nothing we ever do is easy.”

“Let’s go upload those files,” X said. “Come on.” He walked through the doorway, followed by Dun Dun, Duckett and Bucky.

“Good job, as always,” Gark said to Nat.

“This is the last time you’re getting me in this,” Nat replied angrily, motioning to her formal attire. “I felt like I was on a date the entire time, and that didn’t help me at all. You don’t know how hard it is to get around in this.”

“Duly noted,” Gark replied. “But, yes, hopefully that will be the last time.”

“You better hope so,” Nat said, stalking off. This left Gark alone with Me’lin, in what turned out to be an awkward moment for the Bothan. The Twi’lek was staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Uh . . . hi,” Gark said. Again, he didn’t quite know what to say to her now that he was face-to-face. “The conquering hero returns in one piece.”

“You OK?” she asked in a concerned voice.

“A little sore, but I think I’m alright,” the Bothan replied, grabbing his shoulder and rubbing it. In doing so, he could feel some soreness shooting through his arm. “Doing all that ass-kicking certainly takes a toll on your body.”

“You need some ice?” Me’lin asked.

“That might not be the worst idea,” Gark replied. “Just hanging out for a while sounds like a good idea. A massage would be nice, too. Do you know any good spas around here?”

“Nope,” the Twi’lek said with a shrug. “But, I can offer to try. I’m not a pro at it or anything, but a friend of mine works in physical therapy, so I’ve learned a few things.”

Gark ran this offer through his head several times at amazingly-high speed, which constituted about a single blink of his eyes. So his love interest . . . did he really just think that? . . . stupid hormones . . . wanted to give him a glorified backrub? Never mind how awkward that sounded . . . what would the other agents say? . . . but he certainly could use some rubbing on his sore muscles . . . yeah, maybe he should take her up on the offer . . .forget the muscles, maybe this was his chance to ask her if she liked him or not . . . or not . . . well, it was worth a shot, anyways . . . if nothing else, he’d get a massage, or something resembling that, out of this . . . and the masseuse would be extremely attractive . . . he’d probably regret not getting this . . . OK, mind made up . . .

“All right,” Gark said.

Several minutes later, Gark found himself belly-down on one of the sofas in the Holo lounge. Me’lin kneeled alongside the couch, using this vantage point to rub deep into the affected muscle groups. Gark found that sore muscles were no longer bothering him one bit. Even if Me’lin wasn’t a trained masseuse, she certainly knew how to ease his soreness. Her gentle hands rubbed all of the pain and tightness out of his body, allowing Gark to go into a sleep-like daze while still being fully awake. Simply put, this felt amazing; he hadn’t been this relaxed in ages.

“Feeling better?” Me’lin asked quietly.

“Keep going,” Gark said, caught up in his state of nirvana. “Please.” The Twi’lek nodded and continued on with the massage.

It was now or never, Gark thought; he needed to ask her the question that for some reason had been burning in his mind all day. “I have . . . kind of a personal question,” he finally said.

“Yes?”

“Do you consider me as a friend?” Gark asked. “And be honest.”

“Of course,” Me’lin said. “You’ve helped me get through a lot in the past few years. Got me the secretary job with the team, invited me to the Awards ceremony that one year . . .”

“I meant . . . as more than a . . . friend, I guess,” Gark said, refining his question.

“Maybe . . . I mean . . . I’ve thought about it now and then . . . nothing definitive . . . why are you asking me this?”

“Just curious,” Gark said. Great, he had gone in too far too fast on that one. She probably was scolding him mentally now for jumping to a question such as that, and he expected the massage to stop, or at least get a little rougher. He tensed up for that, but found that she had not changed her routine. Her strong thumbs pressed into his muscles just as much as before in their typical caressing way.

Then the comm. unit buzzed. ”Me’lin, your presence is requested in the lab,” X said over the channel.

“Have to run,” the Twi’lek said, taking her hands off of Gark’s back.

“Thank you,” Gark said. “I hope I didn’t offend you.”

Then something interesting, and unexpected, happened. Me’lin leaned down and kissed Gark lightly on the cheek. “Not at all,” she said, before standing up and walking out of the room. Gark couldn’t believe it; had that just happened? All he could do was just sit there and stare at the armrest on the couch. So she harbored feelings for him after all. The awkward romantic story got another twist in it.

That night, back at Senators team HQ, Gark tried to fall asleep in the bed that he had brought in for temporary housing while he searched for a new place to live full-time. But, he was still in a daze from that exchange with Me’lin. It seemed like something out of a dream . . . something he never expected he would experience in his lifetime. With these thoughts racing through his head, Gark fell asleep, his relaxed body no longer in pain due to soreness.

---

Calo Mornd paced back and forth, greatly angered by that night’s events. Someone, or a groups of persons, had decided to ruin his grand gala, and it made him feel very put out. From the intel he had gained from his commanders, this had been the same group of individuals that had caused the ruckus at his warehouse, the same ones that had pushed his plans back several weeks. Although these rogues hadn’t killed many of his troops, it was still enough to lower his overall forces, causing him moments of angst knowing that his troop strength had been needlessly diminished. And for what? They hadn’t defeated a single one of the invaders, who had managed to slip away yet again. Who were these people, and what were they up to?

“Sir, we have the video reports online for you to view,” a commander said.

“Good work, commander. And tell your men to hold their ground next time, or I’ll make sure they feel the pain,” Mornd said dismissively. The commander saluted and then left.

Calo sat down and began to view the security footage. Here was the idyllic gala, which had been intended to give his supporters the utmost confidence in his scheme, was quickly broken into a scene of fleeing mobsters and their guests before just a few individuals. Calo rubbed his temples; why were his soldiers so damn worthless when it came to this sort of thing?

As he ran through the footage, he kept keying in on one enemy in particular. The Bothan in the ridiculous superhero suit kept coming to his mind. Who was this strange person, and what did he want? The video feed shook as the explosion rocked the walls of the Convention Hall, and he could see some of the Bothan’s fellows escape through the hole. But there was the hero himself, his mask getting ripped off. There, it was off, revealing the man’s face. Calo quickly pressed the pause button, and zoomed in as much as he could. There was no mistaking that face; the game was on. And Calo knew that he would have to land the next punch, because as it stood now his dream was one step closer to annihilation. The Bothan may have won the battle, but Calo would win the war.

TAG: No One

IC: Lucie Vigo


Lucie gazed at herself nervously in the mirror. She used to think it was stressful trying to impress a guy. Now she was frazzled trying to figure out the proper look to make sure this one lost interest. She wore just a touch of make-up because she never left her apartment without some. The restaurant Coach had chosen to take her to was classy, so she couldn’t wear pants, but she couldn’t decide between a knee length skirt or an ankle length skirt. The ankle length skirt was over doing it, or at least she hoped, because she despised it. She had no idea what possessed her to purchase the thing in the first place. So there she stood in a navy blue knee length skirt with skin toned stockings and the plainest pair of flat shoes she owned. Her top was pale blue, every button was buttoned. She straightened her hair hoping for a sophisticated look, opted for a pair of small silver hoop earrings and no other jewelry.

When her comlink beeped Lucie caught herself jumping in anticipation. It was Coach he was out in front of the building in his speeder. As she entered the speeder Lucie was silent. To her surprise Coach either began ranting about the team’s recent poor performance or making small talk, she wasn’t sure what his angle was. “I hope your preparations for this week’s upcoming game against the Crazy Dragons are going better than mine. Loren, Galen and Kallaevge have become so annoyed with Marmu’s style of play that they are doing everything in their power to keep the ball away from her. I don’t blame them Marmu stole the spotlight on and off the field during those two games we won, but this inter team bickering totally destroyed us last week. I was forced to sit them all down like children and explain team play, but I’m not at all convinced it worked.”

Lucie gazed out the window. She didn’t reply. Dancers often squabbled over who got to be in front during performances, or who was light enough to be flipped in the air, but in the end they were a team and professionals she’d never had any disasters occur during a performance. She smiled to herself realizing that the ego of a dancer must be smaller than that of a Limmie player.

Coach kept quiet for the rest of the ride since Lucie didn’t respond to his first attempt at conversation. Once they had put their orders in to their waiter Coach got down to business. “Look, I know this makes you uncomfortable. Truth is I am probably just as nervous as you are tonight. I didn’t seek you out that first morning in the park. I never meant for our conversations to be anything more than just a friendship. Not even a friendship even, just two companions conversing over similar interests. I don’t really know what happened, you are bright, easy to get along with and I know I don’t have to tell you how good looking you are. Half the men on Ralltiir have pin-ups of you available for viewing.”

If there was an appropriate response to Coach’s confession Lucie didn’t know what it was. “Half the men on Ralltiir don’t send me gifts” was the only response she could think of.

“You sure aren’t making this easy. Perhaps I overstepped my boundaries, what I’m trying to say is, I mean what I want to say is that I’m sorry.” Coach took several sips of his water and looked down at the table. “I realize it was wrong and I want you to know it won’t happen again. I have a Limmie team to coach and a family at home. I need some more wins this season or I risk losing my job.”

At that moment dinner arrived. Lucie looked down at the plate of vegetables she ordered and wished she could be eating the nerf steak Coach had ordered. After the season she promised herself. “So no more packages? And no more showing up in front of my building in the mornings?” Lucie asked hopefully. “Why didn’t you just send a note? Why take me to dinner?”

Coach took a while to chew his meat. “I suppose I felt I owed you an apology in person.”

The rest of dinner was awkward and quiet. Coach offered to order dessert, Lucie realized he knew nothing about trying to fit into Limmie dancer uniforms but declined politely.

Lucie opted to take a cab home. She slept great that night and had a wonderful solitaire run the next morning before rehearsals. The dance team had a great week. But she could tell from the screaming she heard on the field that the Limmie team was not having a good week.

On game day nothing had improved for the Starkillers since the previous week. The offense was hopeless. The score at halftime was 14 to 0 Crazy Dragons. Then in the second half it got even worse. To make a point of how stupid his offensive teammates were being Jooms purposely stepped out of the goal box several times and let the ball go right by him! The Crazy Dragons put 23 more points on the board before the offense finally got the message and began to work together. Lucie wasn’t sure who initiated the change of play but when Kallaevge, Loren and Marmu all worked together on that first drive down the field the Crazy Dragons were taken completely off guard. Their defense had begun snoozing early on. There wasn’t enough time for a comeback but the Starkillers did manage to put 13 points on the board. Onderon added one last goal to make the final 40 to 13.

After the game the dancers signed autographs, many fans seemed gloomy and disappointed. If the Starkillers lost to the Jets they’d become the laughingstock of the league some said. She did her best to keep her spirits up and assured the fans that the team would bring home a win. She hoped she was right.
@Teegirloo

GM Post

Kayl'hen flipped off her vidscreen with a sigh of displeasure. Taab had unknowingly gotten one thing right--she did not like it. Her gut told her that the prison break had been engineered to get Taab out, but she'd never prove it. The Kaminoans would probably never prove it. And the rules of the legal game were clear: innocent until proven guilty. The League abided by them as did most of the galaxy. They were designed so that the innocent were not locked up, but it meant that sometimes the guilty went free. Today that meant Beskaryc Taab.

There was now no barrier to Taab returning regular ownership duties and privileges, not from the Elite League side. She had no idea what would happen with Vhett, but Taab was a businessman, even if he was a Mandalorian with rockets strapped to his back. Niakara was certain he knew his way around a contract and would be able to have Vhett returned to her regular GM duties. Gondorf wouldn't need to be told to let things take their course. She knew the bylaws and would enforce them impartially.

Though the Bothan could always hope that maybe Taab would get himself locked up again. After all, his team didn't do so badly when he wasn't at the helm. Maybe he wouldn't screw up a good thing.

And on top of it all it was increasingly looking likely that she'd have the Mercs in the playoffs. That was going to be a joy given recent events. Taab would love that. And if she wound up in a box with him at any point...

"From jail cell to owner's box in the Galactic Cup Playoffs," Kayl'hen muttered, "Next they're going to make a holo about it. Beskaryc's Song."

Tag: @Bardan_Jusik

Fleetfire Zarmer offices, Salis D’aar,, Bakura

“Mr. Cordell,” Sydney said, “Thank you for taking time to meet with me.”

Meet was a loose term. They were connected by holoconference. Cordell was in Serenity prepping for A&M’s upcoming game against Citadel U.

“Let’s get down to business quickly, Mr. Talon,” the Old Dog said, “I don’t have time for Sithspit. In case you haven’t noticed there’s this little thing we like to call the season going on right now and I might have a playoff spot but that does not mean that I am not a busy being.”

“As I said, thank you for your time,” Sydney said, though he didn’t feel very thankful. No wonder Morgan and Becki left Chandrila in a hurry for the Miners. He was only marginally better than Cundertol. “The reason for my call is that I’d like to ask you to make a statement with the GCAA regarding the investigation they’ve initiated into Morgan Alesh and Becki Morlan’s recruitment by the Miners.”

“Son, you stop right there,” Cordell said, pointing a finger, “You all went and made a mess of this from what I heard. I am not letting you drag my team or this university into the mud with you. It’s uncalled for and I do not want to have this season taken away from us.”

Sydney knew honey was going to get him nowhere. An abrupt change of direction was required. “Mr. Cordell, if you don’t help me, you’re going to get dragged into this on terms you don’t like.”

“Is that a threat, Mr. Talon, because this conversation is sounding over to me,” Cordell said, moving for his holoprojector’s power button.

“Where does responsibility really lie here, Mr. Cordell,” Sydney said quickly, “With the member institution or with the outsider?”

“You broke the rules, you pay the price,” Hexton said sternly.

“If the GCAA says we did wrong, it’s a very small step from there to sanctions against you for lax institutional standards when it comes to on-campus recruiting. If they think we should have known about this, imagine the book they’re going to throw at you,” Sydney said, “I hear wins being vacated, postseason competition bans, and recruits decommitting en masse. I can just see CorTech, BCC, and UCBV sending out the scholarship offers to your four and five star high school recruits now. Hell, they’ve probably got them written. ‘Dear Mr. Five Star, Chandrila A&M doesn’t protect its players from GCAA inquiries. You may want to rethink the biggest choice of your life.’”

“Mr. Talon, you are out of line!” Cordell said.

“I’m being more of a friend to you than whatever hacks you have in your legal department,” Mr. Talon said.

“The fact of the matter is that I wasn’t there, Mr. Talon. I can’t tell the GCAA anything about what was or wasn’t said when Quinn Cundertol sat down with Morgan and Becki. I’d love to help you and I hear what you’re saying, but if I told the GCAA anything I’d be lying. And the GCAA can do what they want to me, but I’m not gonna lie to them,” Hexton Cordell said with the utmost sincerity.

“Mr. Cordell, I don’t want you to lie,” Sydney said, “But I think you, or someone at A&M knows something that you don’t know that you know and that I don’t know that you know.”

“Then how the hell will that do any good?” Cordell said in exasperation.

“Bear with me,” Sydney said.

---

Club level, Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura

Sydney had given his ticket to Robb today. It pained him, but he had different seats today—and different attire.

Sydney stood in the box that Fleetfire Zarmer had rented for today’s game against the Coruscant Senators for the purposes of entertaining some of their clients—namely the ones where their point person really enjoyed a game of limmie. Sydney was wearing his suit for the occasion since it was still a work event. A Miners game wasn’t quite so enjoyable when he was at work (namely because he had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t going to be able to watch most of the game since he had to pay attention to his clients).

It turned out that his afternoon was not going to be spent making small talk and eating appetizers. Unfortunately, it was not for a reason that Sydney would have liked.

“Mr. Talon?” a voice said from over his shoulder in the middle of a conversation with a client.

“Excuse me, but—”

Sydney stopped midsentence when he found that it was Assistant GM Briar Thorne, a woman who had her name on the Galactic Cup of Limmie.

“A private word, please?” Thorne said.

“Yes, of course,” Sydney said. He excused himself with his client and followed Thorne to where they had some privacy within the box.

“I hope that Fleetfire Zarmer has found the box to your satisfaction?” Briar asked.

“It’s been great, though Lizsen made the arrangements. You should check in with her—though I thought you’d have some higher level duties than this,” Sydney said.

“Indeed,” Briar said with a smirk, “Your presence has been requested in the Noble House’s box.” She forestalled the next question. “They didn’t tell me why.”

“Of course they didn’t. Where are they?” Sydney asked.

“Opposite side of the stadium. Come with me,” Briar said.

Ten minutes later Sydney stepped through the door to the Noble House’s box. The one Fleetfire Zarmer had was nice. The owner’s box was opulent. They didn’t have appetizers here; they had nerf steak. There was an open liquor cabinet in the Fleetfire box—they had a droid mixing drinks here. The Fleetfire box had fine china, but the Noble House’s had aurodium leaf set in theirs.

And of couse, one of the most prominent families on Bakura was inside.

“Good afternoon,” Siona Lynd, former Minister of State, said, greeting Sydney, “You would be?”

“The team attorney,” Regan Eldred said, stepping in, “Sydney Talon, this is my sister Siona Lynd.”

“A pleasure, Madam Minister,” Sydney said, extending a hand.

“Mrs. Lynd now,” Siona said, taking Sydney’s hand.

“Charmed, all the same,” Sydney replied.

“As charming as Siona is, she’s not the reason you’re here,” Regan said. She motioned for Sydney to follow. He suddenly had an idea of why he was here.

He was slightly perturbed to discover he was right.

“Kerry, this is Mr. Talon,” Regan said, introducing Sydney to the graying matriarch of the Noble House.

“Mr. Talon, forgive me for pulling you away from business,” Kerry Trieste, Supreme Chancellor said, dabbing at her mouth with her napkin before rising to shake his hand.

“It’s not an inconvenience at all, Madam Chancellor,” Sydney said as he shook hands with the most powerful being in the Republic.

“I promise I won’t keep you long,” Kerry said, indicating that Sydney should take a seat at the table where she had been enjoying her steak. “A drink, Mr. Talon?”

“Sydney, please, and I’ll take a whiskey up, whatever is handy,” the attorney said.

“A being after my own heart,” Kerry said and motioned for a drink.

“Flattered as I am, I doubt that you asked me here solely for a drink,” Sydney said. Before he finished his sentence, his whiskey was already being served. Now that was service.

“No. I was having lunch the other day with Senator Urkk of Abregado-Rai. Since the GCAA is headquartered there, he keeps an ear open to the goings on of that body. He mentioned that apparently the Miners are appearing before the GCAA this week?” Trieste asked gently.

“Yes,” Sydney said, as confidently as he could, “They have asked us to respond to allegations in person.”

“Is there anything we should be worried about,” Trieste asked as she sawed off some of her steak with her knife. A very sharp knife, Sydney noticed.

“Madam Chancellor, I have a plan and a strategy,” Talon said, lowering his voice, “It carries some risk with it, but it is our best option given the current situation.”

“What do I need to know about it?” Kerry asked, also in a low voice.

“With all due respect Madam Chancellor, you don’t need to know anything about it.” A brazen thing to say to the Supreme Chancellor, but true. “All you need to know if that any other defense that we put up is going to have drastically lower chances of the Miners walking away unscathed.”

“Is this winning the right way?” Kerry Trieste asked suddenly, looking up from her steak.

“Excuse me?”

“Mr. Talon, Sydney, you need to know that your arguments before the GCAA will have ramifications on long term plans that I have,” Kerry said, “I don’t need a win here—I need the Miners to walk away with the GCAA convinced of their innocence. I don’t want them to think we’re not guilty. They need to think they’re innocent. The reasons for this are my own—“ she said as she nonchalantly waved her knife, luckily not at Sydney, “—and when it comes to needing to know anything about them…well, you don’t.”

“Touché, Madam Chancellor,” Sydney said with a smirk.

Kerry couldn’t help but smile briefly at someone else who could appreciate the game well played. “Mr. Talon, as you know I am a rather loyal Old Blue, as we’re known, especially once you’re well removed from graduation from UBSD. When my sister told me she wanted to hire a Tiarest law grad as our new team attorney, I told her no. She told me about your record—that you don’t lose. That is the only reason your firm was retained by the Miners. It’s time for you to prove me an overly biased Golden Bear, Mr. Talon, and show me that Tiarest University actually produces something worthwhile once in a blue moon.”

“Madam Chancellor, if you want to win this right, we’re going from a sure thing to a long shot,” Sydney said.

“Sydney,” Kerry Trieste said, setting her utensils down and looking Sydney straight in the eye, “Do you know what my sister told the troops under her command before she took the tactical risk of putting her interdictors into danger to draw out Yssenn?

“‘Sometimes you have to roll the hard six.’

“Roll the hard six, Sydney,” Kerry Trieste said.

“Yes, Madam Chancellor,” Sydney Talon replied.

Tag: @Jedi Gunny (in that the second half takes place at a Senators game, but also as Super 16 score poster since I reference A&M )

GM Post

As we approach Week 6, participation in the 273 Elite League Draft is now open. Teams interesting in participating should PM me at least three college players to be in the draft pool. I will post them in the 273 Draft post in the Library thread as I receive them.

I would like to set March 10 as our deadline for current players to indicate participation in the Draft. That will enable me to announce the non-playoff draft order shortly after announcing playoff matchups for the Quarterfinals.

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

Disregard

GM Approved!

Team: Ylesia Lightning

Name: Zoa Vra
Species: Zabrak
Gender: Female
Birth year: 245
Physical appearance: Between her strong height of 5'11 and the small horns that decorate the top of her head, Zoa cuts an imposing figure on and off the field. Her skin is a dark brown, like many of her people, and her hair is fine and black, kept back in multiple tails or cut as short as her horns, depending on the season - though for now she keeps it long. Fine facial tattoos mark her as part of the Vra clan, though few other than Zabraks can identify them as such. Her eyes are the only contrast, a piercing, icy blue. She is thin, but muscular, caring more about keeping her body in shape for Limmie than her looks.
Home world: Iridonia
Relation to Team: Team Captain, Center Half Forward
Brief Biography: Zoa grew up on Iridonia, the middle child amongst four other siblings. As such she was the attention seeker, never happy with her position in the family, never happy with being stuck on the planet when there were thousands of worlds she could be exploring. As she grew older, she took out her frustration on her opponents in Limmie, and what started out as an outlet for her anger became a passion, one that bought her a ticket off her boring planet to a college team. There, however, she discovered that most of the players were human - not just on her team, but on their opponents' teams, even in the Elite League. And this bias showed, as mostly humans were drafted from her team, as she was refused advancement even as she showed her talent, as the scouts would tack on '... for a Zabrak' to their reports. After four years of it, Zoa was ready to go back to Iridonia, where at least she could escape the human supremacy, but instead she received an offer from the General Manager of a lower-tier team, Raakla To, who was looking to see if she and other non-humans were interested in signing with her all-alien team. Zoa barely thought about it, and signed as soon as she could. The team was a tough bunch, all of them as frustrated as she or more so at being overlooked as athletes, and their adversity was their bond. It wasn't the easiest team to be a part of, as it was difficult to get the best training or players without giving into the humans, but General Manager To kept her word and eradicated all the humans in the organisation. Slowly and surely, though, they proved their worth and worked their way up the rankings, and Zoa worked her way up the team, earning the Captaincy for her work ethic and leadership. But Zoa has a secret, one that she fears could come to light and ruin her team's respect and her career: her hidden romance with a human.


Home Field: Peace City Gardens
Team Owner: Otta (Hutt)
General Manager: Raakla To (Female Togruta)
Head Coach: Sunlua Zan (Female Falleen)
Offensive Coordinator: Kuvric (Male Cathar)
Defensive Coordinator: Sama Chahrki (Female Devaronian)
Head Trainer: Reon Trey’fa (Female Bothan)
Assistant Trainer: Plule Dol (Female Duros)
Team Physician: Dr. Etana Kraraal (Female Yuuzhan Vong)

Goalkeeper: Kasin Urdaaza (Female Mirialan)
Right Corner Back: Lak Lomo (Male Houk)
Full Back: Shahka (Female Barabel)
Left Corner Back: Nolli Uto (Female Nautolan)
Right Half Back: Ralkyysh (Male Wookiee)
Center Half Back: Mallarhynn (Female Wookiee)
Left Half Back: Seeza Tey (Female Weequay)
Midfielder: Tung Nabb (Male Sullustan)
Midfielder: Thudak Andro (Male Rodian)
Right Half Forward: Zenro Ta (Male Twi’lek)
Center Half Forward: Zoa Vra (Female Zabrak) [Captain]
Left Half Forward: Veiana Eitos (Female Zeltron)
Right Corner Forward: Syra Kuna (Female Twi’lek) [Assistant Captain]
Full Forward: Litan Kuna (Female Twi’lek)
Left Corner Forward: Rishal (Female Firrerreo)

Reserves:
Tul Keela (Male Aqualish)
Toth Kul (Male Tunroth)
Subal Nor (Female Devaronian)
Vursel Nay'shyk (Male Bothan)

IC: Dawn Solo-Undolo
Eusebus, Euceron

Dawn sat on the couch in the small living room attached to her hotel suite that she shared with her husband and one of the other team couples, Lex and Mia Silas. Mia and Dawn had been roommates every other season as were Tev and Lex, so it was a natural fit for the four of them to share a suite. The team was enjoying their second straight off day since arriving on Euceron. Coach Ion claimed it was so that the team would have ample time to acclimate themselves to the planets crazy weather patterns, “They aren’t called the Euceron Storm for nothing you know” he joked. But Dawn figured it had something to do with the upheaval the organization was currently facing.

It all started with the team’s poor performances against the upstart Onderon Crazy Dragons and the revamped Coruscant Senators. They lost both games by an average of 32.5 points, putting up only 2 while giving up 67. They were the second worst team in the entire Elite League in every category, only the Vandelhelm Jets were having a worse season. Because of this everyone speculated that Julla Ehennifer was going to be on the chopping block if things didn’t turn around.

That was when Setarcos started coming to practices again. Since the season started, the GM had left all the on field management to Greebus and his coordinators. But the week leading up to the match against the Bakura Miners he started observing practices, giving Julla pointers on adjusting from collegiate to professional limmie, they even spent long hours together after practices analyzing footage. All the extra work paid off when the Monarchs were able to rub it in the face of the smug, red haired, Alana Glencross.

Unfortunately, for Setarcos, the extra work caused the rumor mill to spin up the story that he was in a relationship with her. Not long after, Nora left him and they dropped their second conference game to the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. It was then that the first major announcements happened – Uda Nazug and Drab Yespem both decided that at the end of the year they would be retiring. The next announcement was that the Balmorra Blasters were purchased from the K’ntarr Sports Entertainment Group by Karmich Industries and immediately severed ties with Monarchs.

So there she sat, in one of the white downy robes provided by the hotel painting her toe nails while watching HSN Sportscenter. The Limmie analysts had just given his rundown of each of the teams’ chances of making it into the Galactic Cup Playoffs and amazingly enough he stated that the Monarchs still had an outside chance of sneaking in the back door with a final record of 4-3 (2-2). But while they were in transit to Euceron they all learned that former team owner, PLL Commissioner Wilran K’ntarr had gone missing. Dawn was watching to see if any new news came across.

“Look at you, you’re a real girl after all.” He husband joked from behind her. She picked up a pillow and chucked it at him.

“Oh just shut…” But the rest of the phrase never left her mouth as she turned up the volume on the holoset.

“…I repeat, Premier Limmie League Commissioner, Wilran K’ntarr’s body was found yesterday. It appears that he had been a victim of a pirate raid as his body was found in the airlock of his personal shuttle. At current the PLL is without a replacement…”

I guess I was right at the beginning of the season… things are going to be different this season!”[color]

TAG: @jcgoble3

GM Post

A most hearty welcome to @Rebecca_Daniels. We'll get something set up for you soon in the GCLA

Elite Leaguers: it's crunch time, ladies and gentlemen. Bonus rolls to Bakura, Coruscant, Mando'ade, Ralltiir, and Rydonni Prime.

Week 6 Results

Ryloth Rough Riders at Onderon Crazy Dragons (35-20)
Mando’ade Mercs at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers (5-4)
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Euceron Storm (8-2)
Ralltiir Starkillers at Vandelhelm Jets (22-6)
Coruscant Senators at Bakura Miners (2-36)

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

IC: Gark S’rily
Bakura Gardens

What a mess. The Senators had just gotten smoked by their rivals in the Bakura Miners, 36-2. There was nothing he could say to cheer up his troops; all of them knew what this meant. A wasted opportunity to stay in first place in the Solo Conference. A loss to a rival. The threat of missing the playoffs altogether in a season where Coruscant would be hosting the Cup Final. The threat of going 3-1 in conference play and not being able to use the tiebreak advantage to get into the playoffs. The prospect of a must-win game the next week, on the road and against a non-conference opponent. The Senators were 0-2 in nonconference games, one of those losses coming to otherwise-winless Vandelhelm. Not exactly what Gark wanted to have to think about.

The offense had been pitiful. It seemed like the Miners had a body everywhere, making plays and keeping the Senators’ sets from working all game long. Polis was able to score a point, as was Zadd, but that was it for the otherwise high-powered Senators offense. This was the kind of game that made the entire offensive unit do some serious soul-searching, and it was going to be a long ride to Ralltiir. The midfielders hadn’t done anything; Alysha looked like she had lost her special abilities in the middle of the field, Demetra sucked, Izzi was toast within three minutes, and Laryssa had gotten several major bruises on her calf and had to be taken out of the game to make sure no more damage had been done. Of course, none had, but it was the idea that she had to limp over to the sideline that hit the point home.

Then there was the defense. Or, better put, the lack of it. No one knew where to go against the well-balanced Miners attack. It was blue everywhere, and the Senators couldn’t stop it. Venn had been helpless in goal; he did what he could, but when the ball was coming at him every few seconds, it was impossible to keep up. To make matters worse, Jerek had sprained his foot, and would miss the season finale against the Starkillers. The midfielders on this end hadn’t done anything either, as they were completely shut down by Glencross and North. What could you do when your opponent was unstoppable?

What was now facing Coruscant was the proposition of a must-win game. Against a Raltiir team that was scrapping its way towards a playoff spot. Sure they weren’t the best team in the league at this moment, but they were still going to be a tough fight. A win in that game would push the Senators into the playoffs, but they had to win. Lose, and they had to hope that both the Smugglers and Monarchs would lose in order to win the tiebreaker and mercifully land the #3 playoff seed. What had once seemed like an impossibility, that of missing the postseason completely, was now all too real. One game was going to decide everything, not just for the Starkillers, caught in a battle themselves for playoff positioning, but for the Senators to make it at all. All the momentum from those other conference games was gone; the Miners had completely deflated the bubble.

“I want you to give yourselves a hard look in the mirror over this next week,” Gark said to the team. “This was not how we play Limmie. Thanks to this terrible performance, we just cost ourselves good positioning. Now we are basically forced to win next week in order to make the playoffs. This was crunch time, and you all blew it. The coordinators blew it. I blew it. On our way back to Coruscant, I expect us to all put this behind us, and to get into a mentality that we will beat Ralltiir. I don’t want any half-assed effort this week in practice, because that will get you benched. Our fans want to see us play in that Final, and yet we just showed them why that likely won’t happen this season. The Starkillers are a solid team; we need to beat the crap out of them next week in order to prove that this was a fluke loss. Understood?”

“Coruscant?” came a voice from the crowd. “We’re playing on the road next week, Coach.”

“Yes, I said Coruscant,” Gark said. “Since Ralltiir isn’t too far away, I figured that we would celebrate a win here today by getting a chance to go home for a day. As it turns out, we’re going to need that day off to make sure that we don’t lose it completely. Everything has changed, so I expect all of you to get with the program. Because this team never misses the playoffs, and we’re certainly on our way to making that happen. No more excuses. No more crap play. I need all of you to think about what happened here today, and know that that won’t be tolerated anymore. We’ve lost all our bargaining chips; our chances of winning the division are slim to none. We need a win and major help next week for that, and with our luck, as we have seen today, everything goes wrong when it wants to. We are in control of our fate from here on out. Now it’s time to see if we’re a real playoff team, or if we’re going to be stuck sulking in the offseason at what could, and should, have been.”

The ride home was quiet. Real quiet. The loss hung on everyone's mind, and no one felt very enthusiastic. But, hope of a comeback was also in the air, so there was at least a little optimism.

When the shuttle finally landed on Coruscant, Gark immediately went to his office and just sat at his desk over at team HQ, head in his hands. Now the Senators needed to pull off the impossible just to get into the playoffs. What would the fans think if they lost this next week? Silently, he cursed the Chamber of Commerce for getting the Cup Final on Coruscant this season, because that only added to his myriad of other problems. What was he going to do now?


TAG: @Trieste

IC: Sydney Talon
Bakura Gardens, Salis D'aar, Bakura

It was a good day to be entertaining clients at Bakura Gardens. Sure, there was plenty of food and booze to go around (all of which would be charged to Fleetfire Zarmer), but everything tasted so much better when set against the backdrop of the second straight dominating performance by the home team.

Sydney noted with great amusement that every five minutes it seemed like Lizsen Fleetfire was saying, "Yes, we do represent the Miners." Several of the clients who had attended had signed retainers with Fleetfire Zarmer solely because they had the Miners account. It was one part being a fan and one part thought that, "If the Miners trust Fleetfire Zarmer, then so should I. Kerry Trieste wouldn't put her beloved team into incompetent hands."

The fact that Sydney was the primary attorney handling the Miners account meant that he had a lot of hands to shake--and only half their conversations were about legal issues. Most of them involved questions about what certain players were like (he didn't know many of them), if he'd met the Chancellor (to which Sydney said yes and decided not to mention it had happened less than an hour ago), and questions about the inner workings of the Miners (which he couldn't speak to--and if he did he wasn't going to).

But as the game went on, he was increasingly asked one question in particular that required no special knowledge of the interior workings of the Miners:

"Do you think Alana Glencross is going to win the Salbukk?"

The Miners' midfield play had been impeccable in the last two games as they'd absolutely dominated the game. While Rodders and the offense had been nothing short of spectacular, the consensus on Bakura was that Glencross had raised her game again. Ever since last season when Glencross had stopped trying to carry the entire team alone (her own words, in an interview she'd given in the offseason), her play had not be the standout, stellar work that won awards, but it had been part of why the Miners won the Galactic Cup.

Nothing had changed--Alana was still doing her part--but she was doing it insanely well. Insanely well. The result were 30+ point victories over their foes from the Final and the team that could beguile the Miners when they least expected it. The Glencross/North combination had utterly locked down the midfield in both instances.

When people asked Sydney if he thought Alana would win the Salbukk, he said, "She would if I voted for her."

At the end of the day, after the clients had left and Sydney and Lizsen were alone in the box in an empty stadium, long since emptied by the rest of the fans, cleaning up final accounts. They shared one last drink that would go on Fleetfire Zarmer's bill.

"Today was a success," Lizsen said, "We've solidified our relationship with our new clients and they're likely to spread the word to others. Today was a win, Sydney."

"I'll say. A 34 point win," Sydney agreed.

"I meant off the field."

"So was I. You and I won by 34 point today. We hit it out of the park," Sydney said.

Lizsen took a sip of her drink. "Where did you go before the game started?"

"The Chancellor wanted to see me."

"Why?"

"She told me that she wants me to beat the GCAA investigation 'the right way,'" Sydney said, "'The right way.'"

Lizsen set her drink down. "Sydney, you know as well as I do that we lose the case if we do this the right way. And if we lose the case, we're going to lose not only the new clients, but the old ones too. We have a winning strategy already. Use it."

"Lizsen, the client--the Chancellor told me she doesn't want that," Sydney said.

"Sithspit!" Lizsen said, "I don't care who the client is--when the client is wrong, the client is wrong!" Lizsen pounded a fist on the table. "We represent the best interests in the client and losing this case is not in their best interest!"

"We don't get to make that decision for her!" Sydney replied angrily, "What happens if we do it your way? She's the frakking Chancellor! She's going to find out and she's going to fire us anyways!"

"She might, be we know she will if her team gets slapped with a censure and the League takes action against it," Lizsen said, "Which scenario do you want to bet on, Sydney?"

Sydney stood. "I leave for Abregado-Rai tomorrow. I'll be back for Truce Day."

"Come home bearing your shield or on it, Sydney," Lizsen said without turning to look at him as he headed for his door.

Sydney Talon said nothing as he left the box.

Tag: @Jedi Gunny for post game, @Liam_Vehn as a reminder that Smugglers/Miners will be the traditional Truce Day game

IC: Meredith Chambers

Six Boroughs Stadium

Was it the missed deflection as time wound down in regulation?

Was it the penalty kick after Autumn Graves went for a low shot on one of the Nulls?

Was it simply that the Smugglers this year had too many new parts to fully fight a team that had been hungry for years to make their post-season mark and chase the title?

Meredith Chambers didn’t have any answers as to why the Smugglers had dropped a winnable game at home against the Nulls. 5-4. That was the final score.

The Smugglers playoff chances were looking slim. She hadn’t figured out all of the calculations. That wasn’t her job. But they now sat at 1-2 in conference record, and that definitely counted for something. Even if the Smugglers missed the playoff this year, all Chambers really wanted to do was stick it to the Bakura Miners, that team that had suddenly come out of nowhere to be the leader in every statistical category that mattered in the ELL. Yeah, just one more victory over the blue and gold, and if she knew anything about next week, that clash was going to be particularly hard fought as usual.

Maybe, just maybe, the Smugglers could repeat 261, when they’d downed the high flying, and undefeated, Mon Calamari Mariners in a thrilling 9-7 Final game. Maybe she could recapture the magic of her rookie season. Maybe there was hope for her athletic career after all. The light wasn’t quite out at the end of the tunnel but it was fading. Her time in the ELL was drawing to a close. And as she showered in the team locker room, allowing the warm water to slide over her tired body, Chambers felt something wet pour down her cheek. It wasn’t the water from the showerhead, it was a tear, a tear that symbolized the ending of an era, the passing of the torch, the wrapping up of one of the most illustrious careers in Smuggler history. She’d finish out the season this year and think long and hard about whether or not she wanted to come back to wrap up her contract.

But next week she had a battle to fight. The Black and Blue battle. What a contest it would be.

Tag: No One