Star Wars OPEN Elite League Limmie

GM...ish Post

From Bakura Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) Sports

In documents released by the GCAA, the University of Bakura, Telaan Valley Pioneers have been found to have committed "major recruiting violations." Sources have not elaborated on the exact nature and scope of these violations but have confirmed that they cover at least both the 270 and 271 seasons in which the Pioneers won back-to-back Bak10 championships and appeared in the 271 Galactic College Limmie Final, which they lost 33-12 against Eriadu Tech. The GCAA's Committee on Infractions has not announced any sanctions for UBTV but are reportedly preparing an official statement to be released at a GCAA press conference. UBTV Athletics has refused to comment on the situation, as has head coach Bryan Cluff. Miners starting goalkeeper Anton Jorpik, who was drafted in 272 after the college championship, made a brief comment at Miners training camp in Hi'lo saying that he was "dismayed" to hear of these violations and that he was unaware of any during his time at the university.

This news has hit hard in the Valley, which has doubtless been sour since the Prytis College of Natural Sciences did what they could not and took home the 272 Galactic College Limmie Championship.

BBC Sports will report on further developments as they happen.

Tag: This one's for you Jedi Gunny

 

IC: Gark S’rily
Senators Training Camp, Beachhead Sea Resort, Wroona



Gark stood on the sideline of the makeshift field, watching the Senators players start their first team workout of training camp. It was two months before the opening of the 273 Elite League season, but Gark had plans for this team. In a week or so, they would take on the Wroona Islanders, who he had coached to an Inner Rim Limmie League title a few seasons earlier, in an exhibition friendly. It had been Alonis Wyrtz, owner of the Islanders, who came up with the idea of the Senators visiting Wroona for training camp. Since many a Senator player had been wearing the blue and seafoam green uniform of the Islanders, Wyrtz guaranteed a full house at the stadium on Wroona because the home fans would be excited to see former Islanders take the pitch. Gark had accepted, knowing not just that it would help the team’s coffers a little by playing in this exhibition game, but also because he knew that taking the team to Wroona would give them some vacation time. Instead of being stuck on Coruscant for training camp like had been the tradition, now this Senators team was going to be enjoying their time off from training camp in style at a hotel resort on a vacation world.

As the players started to warm up with jumping jacks, Gark surveyed the field. In the front were the veteran players; Dirxx, Polis, Moen, Shayt, Shev . . . they were all there, working hard to get back into shape for Limmie season. During the offseason, most of the team had stopped by Team HQ and done some workouts in the weight room, but at this stage in their careers the long-time veterans had learned a few things about keeping in shape as they aged. They had spent most of the offseason working out, making sure that they were ready once camp started.

What Gark was really interested in seeing were the new players to the roster. Over in the back left he could see Max Qorbus, the reigning Numifolis Award winner in his time with Ryloth, not even breaking a sweat as he warmed up. It was a relief to know that Qorbus was working hard so far; he hadn’t quite fit in on Ryloth with the Rough Riders, and thus Gark wanted to know that the Nautolan would play cohesive Limmie with his teammates from Day One. Other newcomers included Salata, a Wookiee half back who had been involved in the Qorbus deal, and Rayel Edare, hailing from the Rydonni Prime Monarchs. Gark had seen the Wookiee play, and was secretly glad that she was on Coruscant now. She hit like a truck, and had the experience to prove herself a valuable asset coming off the bench. Edare, the Pantoran, was more of a mixed bag. She had struggled in the 272 campaign, but the rest of her team’s offense had also been off-kilter all year, so Gark wasn’t sure he could make any bearings on Edare’s ability after just two minutes of workout.

Joining these new players to the organization were the two former Thyferra players, Pasla Tesh and Zumarrorroo. Tesh, a Hrakian corner back, was going to have to fill in Dilfy Pogrid’s shoes at the reserve left corner back spot. Pogrid, now a Quality Control coach with the Senators, had been a solid option off the bench when starter Shayt Contar was gassed and needed a rest, so Tesh had his work cut out for him. Zummarrorroo, the Wookiee, had done well in his stint on Thyferra, and was going to fill in another half back spot alongside his fellow Wookiee Salata.

After a few minutes of general workouts, Pamila Korthe, the new Senators head coach, walked onto the field and took over from offensive coordinator Andrew Mundle. She had a boloball in her hands. “All right, team. We’re going to stretch out our legs, so get ready to run. See that line over there? We’re going to do line sprints. If you don’t screw around, you’ll get done with this faster. Hear that, Deter? I don’t want any lip from you.”

Jerek chuckled at being called out, but he accompanied his teammates to the line. When Andrew’s whistle blew, the group of thirty gray-clad players ran forward on their line sprint exercise. Pam came over to join Gark on the sideline. “How am I doing so far?” she asked, half-jokingly.

“Nice call-out on Jerek,” Gark commented. “But be careful, or it’ll get to his head.”

“I don’t think you can avoid that,” the Zeltron replied, sighing. “Jerek’s going to be Jerek, no matter what you say to him.”

“But he’s a good player, so that’s why we pay him the big bucks,” Gark said. “Besides, he could be a lot worse.”

“Anything I should know about the new players?” Pam asked.

“I’m just interested in seeing what we get out of Qorbus,” Gark mused. “He’s already a superstar; we just need to see how effective he is starting now, because he already has the hardware. Is he willing to play hard to make a case for a hefty contract in a few years, or will he be complacent with last year’s title run and blow this whole thing off?”

“No arguments on that,” Pam said. “I’m just afraid he won’t work as hard as we know he’s capable of.”

“Make sure he doesn’t just rely on his athleticism, because if he tries to go into midseason form relying on his moves and not conditioning, then we’re screwed,” Gark said.

“Will do,” Pam replied.

Amazingly, the team finished its sprints without incident. Pam then moved on to the first Limmie drill, which was just cone-drill mixed with some tackling dummies. The first player through, Riff Persnor, was handed the ball as he ran forwards by Mundle, and then he was off around the cones. The Cathar showed why he had been an All-Star as he tore around the cones, ball firmly in hand. When he was done with the cones, some tackling dummies came flying at him. Holding out his weak-side arm, he stiff-armed one dummy in the face, sending it back. Dodging another one, he finally ran smack-dab into one and bounced off, hitting the dirt when he fell. Mundle blew the whistle. “Good job!” he yelled out. “And that’s why we pass the ball before we get to that point! Next!”

As the other players went through the drills, it was obvious that there was plenty of work to do. Gark sighed; this was going to be another long camp stint.

---

Week later

The bolo-ball flew through the air, landing in the outstretched arms of Riff. The Cathar dodged Salata and painted the corner of the net with the ball. The net snapped when it was contacted by the ball, and the whistle blew once again. “Good!” Pam yelled out to her players. “Let’s try that play again, but Salata, don’t get fooled on that one next time! You’re going to be left out to dry if the forward gives you a juke move. Keep your feet square and let them give away their move.” The Wookiee nodded and set back up in her position to start off the play. When the whistle blew, Alysha threw the ball into the pseudo-offensive zone. Riff got the ball one more time, matched up squarely with the Wookiee. Riff used a different juke move, but the Wookiee kept her feet square on the ground and popped him with an armbar. It wasn’t too hard, since this was light contact practice (as the coaches didn’t want to beat their players up too much before their exhibition the next day), but Riff lost the ball. Again the whistle blew. “That’s the way!” Pam yelled out, clapping her hands several times. “And, switch out! We’re going to run this until everyone gets it right!”

---

Wroona Stadium

It was a Senators fast break play. Alysha hit Riff on the play they had been working on in practice, and he juked the Wroonian defender. Checking his side to see Syprul set a crushing screen on another defender, drawing some “oohs” and “aahs” from the frenzied crowd, the Cathar easily slung the ball into the net past the goalie. 15-4 Senators in the second half, read the score.

At this point, Pam pulled her starters. The reserves came in and kept shutting down the Wroonian team, making them play a game they weren’t familiar with and scoring almost at will. A goal by Zadd was followed up quickly by a turnover and conversion by Laryssa Oneida. The fans were disappointed to see their home team getting dismantled by the Senators, but they didn’t mind seeing the road show that the Elite League team was bringing with them.

“Most impressive,” Alonis Wyrtz said as he sat in the owner’s box. “I have to hand it to you. You can make one hell of a team.”

“Thanks,” Gark replied to his former boss with the Islanders. “I’d like to think we have a good team this year.”

“We should as well,” Wyrtz said, rubbing his chin in thought. “We did not do well last year, but no one really did against Eshan. They won another league title, especially since Ord Mantell moved over to the GCLA last season. The Warriors cooked everyone. But we have this new hotshot rookie from just up the road who should help our scoring woes from last year. I think we’re a playoff team this year; maybe not the favorites to win it all, but we’ll fare all right.”

“It’s good to see that the fans here are as excited as ever for Limmie,” Gark commented.

“Yes, thanks to you,” Wyrtz replied. “Everyone here on Wroona is still glad that you came and got this franchise going. When they heard the Senators were going to be here for training camp and an exhibition game, tickets sold out in five minutes. We’re both businessmen, and as such we know that a good thing will attract people’s attention. Perhaps we could make this an annual event? The fans here would love to see the Senators every year, and your team might like to come out here for training camp in the lap of luxury? What do you say?”

“That’ll definitely work,” Gark replied. “I think my team would like that.”

Wyrtz would have said something, but another Senators goal, this time courtesy of Rayel Edare, snapped him out of his train of thought. “I never am happy to see my team dismantled, but I think the fans are enjoying this one to no end. Even though we’re down by over 20 points, they’re still all here, yelling their heads off. This is good for business.”

---

It was two weeks after the exhibition game, and the Senators were finally in playing shape for the rigors of the Elite League season. When the team did line sprints, they jumped off the line with a quick burst, cutting down their times each day. The cone drills were becoming monotonous, but carrying the ball seemed to be of utmost importance. There were still some issues, but with a week left of training camp, Gark was sure that his team would be ready to play Ryloth on Week One. It would be a homecoming of sorts for Qorbus and Salata, to go to the stadium and watch their old teammates revel in the championship banner raising that the Rough Riders were sure to host for that game as a member of the visiting team. They would receive their championship rings with the Ryloth players, but it would just be a matter of ceremony that they would. Otherwise, they were just two players from another team.

Another cone drill was occurring. This time, instead of the tackling dummies winning the majority of the battles, the Senator players were busting through. Riff stiff-armed one, dodged another, and then railroaded the third on his way to the end of the exercise. Qorbus charged through as well, slamming his weight so hard into one of the dummies that the player holding it almost fell backwards.

The sun was in its last few hours of fame for the day as the Senators ran through their last drill. Instead of being poorly-conditioned like they had been at the beginning of camp, the players looked ready to go. Passing was crisp, the tackling was working, and loose balls were going up every which way. Every play in the playbook had been run through countless times, and the offense was looking good sans Jet and Boggs. Although Qorbus was still using his athleticism too much, Gark figured that it would be soon enough that he would finally use his knowledge of the playbook to good use and play team Limmie.

When the final whistle blew and Pam dismissed the players from practice, the mass of thirty sweaty players walked off the field. Several of the players were talking about heading down to the beach to watch the sun set, while others wanted to take a shower and call it an evening by killing time in their rooms. The coaches had asked Gark if he wanted to join them for dinner down in town, but the Bothan already had plans for the night, so he politely refused.

Gark entered the hotel complex, sliding his hotel card through the slot when he reached the door to the outdoor seating area. The door opened, and he walked out onto the patio. The space wasn’t overly large, since the beach was only about fifty feet away, but it was enough to be useful. There were two small folding tables set up, each one of them surrounded by three chairs, and over near the railing were a set of thee sun chairs set up facing the sea. Me’lin S’rily sat on one of the chairs, staring out at the sea. When Gark approached, the Twi’lek turned her head to see her husband come up. “Hey,” she said. “Beautiful evening.”

“Yes it is,” Gark said. He moved one of the sun chairs out of the way, and then sat down in the one next to his wife’s chair. Putting his feet up, he gave out a contented sigh, placing his arms behind his head to prop them up on the back of the chair. “What’ve you been up to today?”

“Sitting, as usual,” his wife said. Her pregnant belly was massive now, the result of roughly eight months of child development. “It’s really hard to move these days, so I have plenty of time to just sit and think.” When she saw her husband look at her, she kept going. “You’ve got the team to keep track of, so don’t worry about me. Just sitting here all by my lonesome, staring at the sea.”

“You are keeping busy . . .?” Gark queried.

“Enough,” the Twi’lek replied. “I’m catching up on my Holo shows, but at some point I just get bored. So I came out here to watch the sun set.” Several seconds of silence followed before she spoke again. “What I really miss is my mobility. If I wasn’t stuck sitting all day, I’d be down there,” she said, motioning to the blue-colored sand. “I’d be down there, enjoying the trip.”

“You starting to have second thoughts about coming here?” Gark asked.

“Not at all,” his wife replied. “But I admit that being here isn’t as relaxing as I thought it would be.”

“I hear you on that one,” Gark said, staring back out at the sea. “At least it’s not oppressively hot here at this time of year. Otherwise, I’d say this would be a bad move for you to have to make do for an entire month, especially in your condition.”

“I’ll get by,” Me’lin said. “How’s the team looking?”

“I think they’ll be ready when the season starts,” Gark said. He secretly hoped that his words would be ringing true at the end of the season. “How’s Junior?” he added.

“Kicking, as always,” his wife said, sighing. “Sometimes he just won’t stop. I’ve had to move around some just to push his feet out of the way so my insides don’t get pulverized. I swear, if he keeps doing this, you might want to sign him to a contract immediately after he’s born, because he’ll have one hell of a golden foot for Limmie.”

“If he’s anything like me, I doubt he’ll have one,” Gark said. “I wouldn’t survive playing Limmie, especially not at this level of competition.”

“Hey now,” Me’lin said. “He’ll have my genes too. That’ll instantly make up for any deficiencies in your gene pool, and instantly make him better off than his father.” She had a wide grin on her face, and Gark just shook his head. She then reached out her hand on to Gark’s chair, and the Bothan clasped it in his own. The two then spent the next half hour staring off at the sea, completely content with how things were going.

TAG: No One

 

OOC: The portion with Kayl'hen has been approved by Trieste.

Sub-GM Post/IC: Marius Turnell

Marius awaited the signal that HSN was live. He had previously been a simple lackey in the office of Elite League Commissioner Kayl'hen until she had asked him to head up the new development league. He had accepted the offer, but facing the throng of reporters, he was now wondering if he had gotten himself in too deep.

Finally HSN gave the signal, and Commissioner Kayl'hen stepped up to the microphone. "Greetings, ladies and gentlebeings. I have other business to attend to, so I hope you don't mind if I am brief today. In the past few years, many Elite League teams have signed exclusive deals with various Premier League teams for those teams to act as a development team, or essentially a minor league team, solely for them. This has both strained our relations with the Premier League and caused several prominent Premier League teams to split off into their own league. In an effort to repair these damages, it is my pleasure today to announce the creation of the Limmie Futures League, a league that will consist of all teams with exclusive development arrangements with an Elite League team. I would now like to introduce Marius Turnell, a former assistant in my office, who will be the Futures League Commissioner. Mr. Turnell will explain the league in further detail and answer any questions you have. Marius?"

Kayl'hen stepped away from the microphone, and Marius stepped up. "Thank you, Commissioner Kayl'hen. The Limmie Futures League was an idea created at the last Elite League Board of Governors meeting. It will consist of, as my esteemed colleague said, all teams that are exclusive development affiliates of an Elite League team, and only those teams, making it a true minor league. The goal of this is to purge all such teams from the Premier League, leaving the Premier League with all independent teams and hopefully encouraging the teams of the Galactic Championship Limmie Association to merge back into the Premier League, ending the split at that level.

"The Futures League will have several unique rules never before seen at the professional level. Some of these are for safety, as we recognize that many players in this league will be younger players fresh out of college, and we do not want these potential stars of tomorrow to suffer serious injuries in their first couple of years of professional limmie. Others have been designed to make the game more exciting for the fans, increasing the incentive to watch these minor league games. One of these rule changes is a reduction in game length from two thirty-minute halves to four twelve-minute quarters, which will reduce the number of opportunities for injury. The overtime format will also be overhauled; overtime periods will be just eight minutes and limited to one per game. Additionally, overtime will be sudden death." This generated a series of murmurs throughout the assembled reporters; such a thing had never been done in professional limmie before. Marius took a breath before continuing. "Games in overtime will be won immediately by the first team to either score a goal or take a three-point lead; the game can also be won by having a one- or two-point lead when time expires. Finally, a game still tied at the conclusion of overtime will be decided by a penalty shot shootout, where each team will take a series of penalty shots with the team scoring more goals being declared the winner.

"For the inaugural season of the Limmie Futures League, the league will comprise ten teams, divided into two conferences each named after one of the greatest Elite League general managers of this century. The Tan Strensky Conference will consist of the Commenor Gundarks, affiliated with the Euceron Storm; the Concordia Crusaders, affiliated with the Mando'ade Mercs; the Denon Demons, affiliated with the Onderon Crazy Dragons; the Druckenwell Marksmen, affiliated with the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers; and the Kashyyyk Rangers, who last week signed an agreement with the Ylesia Lightning.

"The other conference, named after Rhia Grames, will comprise the Kessel Runners, affiliated with the Vandelhelm Jets; the Shili Suncrushers, affiliated with the Ryloth Rough Riders; the Tatooine Sandskimmers, affiliated with the Ralltiir Starkillers; the Thyferra Force, affiliated with the Coruscant Senators; and the Kamino Waves, newly affiliated with the Chandrila Patriots as of yesterday.

"I will now be happy to take questions."

"Mr. ...uh, Turnell, the concept of sudden death overtime has never been done in professional limmie before and lasted only three years when the GCAA tried something similar in the 250s. Can you explain a little more about where the idea came from and why the Futures League will be using it?"

"First off, I noticed you having trouble addressing me." Marius smiled. "While 'Commissioner Turnell' is technically the proper way to address me, I'll answer to just about anything, and 'Mr. Turnell' or even just 'Marius' is fine with me. As to your question, the idea came from a brainstorming session in Commissioner Kayl'hen's office a few months ago. I don't recall exactly who it was that first suggested it, though. A lot of consideration was given to the idea, and ultimately this goes back to both of the reasons I mentioned for rules changes. Allowing overtime periods to be cut short reduces the average playing time, which will bring the number of injuries down, and by creating a situation where the game could be won at any moment, we hope to keep HoloNet viewers' attention on the game as they will not want to miss the drama of a game-winning goal."

"Commmissioner, could you explain further about the penalty shot shootout, particularly its format?"

"Certainly. Shootouts will initially begin with seven rounds, each consisting of a shot by the away team, followed by a shot from the home team. Standard penalty shots will be used, with the player taking the shot having the usual options of running up and kicking the ball, throwing the ball, or anything else they can dream up provided it is done from the penalty spot. All players except the current shooter and both goalkeepers must remain at midfield. All shots will be taken at the same goal, and only goals will count; shots that go over the bar will score nothing during the shootout. As with any shootout, if at any point it become mathematically impossible for a team to catch up, the shootout will end immediately and no further shots will be taken. If after seven rounds, the shootout is still tied, then it will proceed into sudden death with both teams shooting in pairs until one team scores and the other misses. Teams will be required to use the same fifteen players that they had on the field at the end of overtime, except in the case of injury."

"You mentioned that the home team will always shoot second in the shootout. Can you tell us why that method was chosen, instead of doing a coin flip?"

"I was not in on the meeting where that was decided on, so I'm not sure of the reasoning behind that. Sorry."

"Is a schedule ready for the 273 season yet?"

"The schedule is in the process of being finalized as I speak and will be released through the usual channels within the next couple of days. Any other questions?" There was silence for a moment, then Marius spoke again. "In that case, I thank you for your time."

---

OOC: The full details of the Futures League rules, including some things not mentioned in the IC portion of this post, are in the new Futures League rules post in the library thread. However, I am going to touch on one portion of the rules here to make sure everyone is aware of this.

Reflecting the shorter game length and reduced skill of the players compared with the Elite League, score rolls will be reduced. The default roll which everyone is entitled to is a maximum score of 25. However, there will be three levels of bonus rolls.

• The standard bonus roll will be a maximum of 28; this will be given to any team whose player posts that week. Any post that qualifies for the Elite League bonus roll qualifies for a 28-point bonus roll here as well.
• If you make a post that mentions your Futures League team beyond merely name-drops, your bonus roll for that week will be increased to a maximum of 30. The mention need not be much, but must be more then purely name-dropping the team or individual players or team personnel, which is trivially easy to do.
• Finally, if you make a post that focuses mostly or entirely on your Futures League team, your bonus roll will be a maximum of 32. The general standard for the 32-point roll will be roughly 75% or more of the post must focus on your Futures League team.

The purpose of all of this is to encourage you to pay attention to and use your D-team as an integral part of your organization, not just let it sit and idle. I certainly don't expect you to try for a 32-point or even a 30-point roll every week, but I would appreciate an effort to get a higher roll at least occasionally.

Finally, the schedule:

Limmie Futures League 273 Schedule
Week 1
Kamino Waves at Concordia Crusaders
Shili Suncrushers at Denon Demons
Kashyyyk Rangers at Kessel Runners
Commenor Gundarks at Thyferra Force
Tatooine Sandskimmers at Druckenwell Marksmen

Week 2
Concordia Crusaders at Tatooine Sandskimmers
Druckenwell Marksmen at Shili Suncrushers
Thyferra Force at Kashyyyk Rangers
Kessel Runners at Commenor Gundarks
Denon Demons at Kamino Waves

Week 3
Druckenwell Marksmen at Kessel Runners
Kashyyyk Rangers at Commenor Gundarks
Kamino Waves at Shili Suncrushers
Thyferra Force at Tatooine Sandskimmers
Denon Demons at Concordia Crusaders

Week 4
Denon Demons at Thyferra Force
Kashyyyk Rangers at Druckenwell Marksmen
Kessel Runners at Kamino Waves
Shili Suncrushers at Tatooine Sandskimmers
Commenor Gundarks at Concordia Crusaders

Week 5
Tatooine Sandskimmers at Kessel Runners
Concordia Crusaders at Kashyyyk Rangers
Shili Suncrushers at Thyferra Force
Commenor Gundarks at Kamino Waves
Druckenwell Marksmen at Denon Demons

Week 6
Druckenwell Marksmen at Commenor Gundarks
Denon Demons at Kashyyyk Rangers
Tatooine Sandskimmers at Kamino Waves
Concordia Crusaders at Shili Suncrushers
Thyferra Force at Kessel Runners

Week 7
Concordia Crusaders at Druckenwell Marksmen
Kashyyyk Rangers at Tatooine Sandskimmers
Kamino Waves at Thyferra Force
Kessel Runners at Shili Suncrushers
Commenor Gundarks at Denon Demons

TAG: Bardan_Jusik, Teegirloo, Liam_Vehn, Rebecca_Daniels, JediMaster1511, JM_1977, Runjedirun, Jedi Gunny

 

IC: Jed Ortmeyer

Thyferra Stadium at Byree Clearing

Jed checked the chrono on the wall of the locker room. Ten minutes until game time. He looked back at the blue-clad Force players kneeling in front of him, waiting to hear what he had to say. The Thyferra Force were ready to take part in their first Futures League game against the Commenor Gundarks, the farm team of the Euceron Storm. Thyferra had good success against Commenor in the old Premier League, but things had changed since then. The Force roster of four years previous had been stripped down considerably; most of the front-line talent, such as Wylega Zola, Riff Persnor, Zadd, Boggs Campbell, and Ortho Dyhon, had long since been called up to the Senators. Even head coach Pamila Korthe was now the skipper for the Senators. This left the Force with a roster of experienced reserves and Draft Picks from three years, and Jed, who had never been a head coach in his life, was now expected to make something of this team.

“I know we’re a little nervous today, being our first game in a new league,” Jed started. “It’s like a microscope has been placed upon us. Of course, everyone is on the same page as we are, so at least Commenor has no more idea of what to expect than we do. The rules are different than we are used to, as are the players and some of the teams. We need to put our best feet forward if we want to make a lasting impression today. We need to show the galaxy that, despite the players we’ve had come through here, we are still a tough team. We must demonstrate our experience, our depth, and our will to win. Along the way, a few of you may get a call-up to the big club, so play your hardest out there today and good things will happen. Let’s go out there and show our fans why we are relevant.”

As the team funneled out onto the field for the pregame introductions, each one of them slapped the board on the side of the tunnel that said “Trust”. It had been a tradition to do so for every home game, since it provided some team unity in the face of the unknown. No one knew what to expect in the next 48 minutes of game action, but at least this was one small bit of consolation for the players as they made their grand entrance to the sea of light blue and dark blue that were the Thyferra fans.

As Jed got settled in on the sideline, he looked over his roster one last time. With Wookiee enforcer Zummarrorroo now with the Senators, he was going to have to rely more on the CorTech combo of Reena Wyley and Tank Bratter to make things happen in the Half Back line. They had shown good chemistry all offseason, so Jed had to hope that they could keep that intensity up in the season. Wyley seemed like the top Half Back prospect in the pipeline, so Jed knew deep down that if an injury occurred for the Senators, which always seemed likely, she could get the call-up and be gone. In the corner, Reid Livingstone, a third-round pick in 272, was going to make his first career pro start. He hadn’t done so well in 272, but now with Pasla Tesh gone to the Senators, it was Reid’s chance to make things happen and show the big club why they had drafted him.

On offense, Jed was happy to see 272 second-round pick Dauza Chary look loose as she settled in on the field. She had spent the offseason watching video of Lokesh Fil’ish, the Senators’ talented field general, and had been working on passing the ball to all corners of the offensive zone. She had embraced her role well last season, and was ready to build upon that this season. As always, Maff Biskis and team captain Mychele Lysar headed the offensive attack, and there were plenty of veterans with them to fill out the Front 6. Depth was a concern, with only a couple players able to come off the bench, including undrafted rookie Dizzy Rol’per, so the starters knew they were in for the long haul.

The midfield was an intriguing spot for the team. Decha Wynas had finally hung up her cleats during the offseason, so she was no longer available. Lai Blutas, who had spent some time with the Senators, and 271 second-round pick Sarya Dilvam were the starters, while 271 third-round pick Tonga Rute was going to come off the bench. What was interesting to note was 273 third-round pick Zak Pers; the Helmsman finalist had somehow dropped all the way down to the thirtieth pick of the draft, and thus he had a chip on his shoulder. He wouldn’t start today, but Jed knew he wouldn’t be surprised to see Pers starting later on this year.

In goal, as always, was Kapp Pyston. Recovered from the nasty injury that had cost him the 271 season, he was ready to prove that he still had it. Kurta Thaar was his backup, although the undrafted second-year player from Verpine Tech was still a mixed bag. Pyston would likely play all of this game, unless it was a blowout.

As the officials brought the ball forwards to start play, a lump formed in Jed’s throat. How would his first game as a Head Coach go? What if he failed? What if this team just wasn’t good enough?

These thoughts stopped when the game began, and Jed called out the play. It was time to see what the Thyferra Force were made of.

TAG: jcgoble3, No One

 

IC: Gark S’rily
Senators team shuttle, en route to Ryloth

Gark sat alone in the small team office on the team shuttle, just staring at the wall. The long trip to Ryloth had taken a toll on him mentally; he was bored out of his skull. The team had been on board the shuttle for several days already, stuck in the never-ending jet of hyperspace. This kind of road trip made all of the old ones the Senators used to be on seem close; the trip out to Vandelhelm was no longer as distant, going to Bakura was a cinch, and Mandalore wasn’t more than a hop, skip and a jump away. But Ryloth . . . that was far away.

Typically on a road trip, he would have fired up the projector and started to watch video of the upcoming opponent. But he didn’t need to do that now; he was no longer coaching. He was going to be sitting in a luxury suite on Ryloth, watching his team take the field down below. It was like someone had gone and reset time back a decade, back to when the thought of coaching had never crossed his mind. What had started as a business venture ended up becoming a whole lot more than that. All the time he had spent coaching, reviewing film, drawing up plays . . . all that was over. Now that coaching was gone, Gark felt like there was something missing in his life. He wanted to keep coaching, but circumstances had gotten in the way.

His thoughts wandered on to his wife; he wondered what she was up to back on Coruscant. Me’lin was now completely immobile, incapable of moving due to the fear of landing hard on her stomach and causing both herself and their unborn son much trouble in the process. Gark had suggested that she stay back on Coruscant with team staff members, and she had agreed more out of necessity than because she wanted to stay behind. They both knew that simply getting her out and about would be impossible in her condition, so she was at least in a no-stress situation at the moment. But Gark wished she was here, because at least her presence would break the monotony of the road trip.

There was a knock on the door, and Gark’s head shot up. “Come in,” he said.

Dirxx Horstse, the ever-smiling Besalisk captain, wandered in.

“What can I do for you?” Gark asked.

“You’re bored,” Dirxx said.

“Aren’t we all?” Gark asked, sighing.

“Anyways, I’ve been talking to the other veterans,” Dirxx said. “And I think we’ve come to a consensus.”

“What are you talking about?” Gark asked.

“This is going to be our last season,” Dirxx said. Several moments of silence followed. “Our contracts are up at the end of the year, and we’ve decided that it’s time to move on.”

“How many are we talking about?” Gark asked.

“Myself, Shayt, Shev, Polis, Moen, Lokesh, Syprul, Sheila, and Laryssa,” Dirxx replied.

“All nine of you?” Gark asked, taken aback. “You know that’ll be hard to come back from.” The Besalisk nodded. “Why?”

“For the same reason you quit coaching,” Dirxx said. “We see the writing on the wall. You know,” he said, taking a seat across the desk from Gark. “A decade ago, when we won the Cup . . . it felt like we could play forever, that we would always be around in this uniform, representing Coruscant. Well, a lot of things have occurred since then. We’ve grown older, and our bodies are less likely to come back from injury like they did a decade ago. For some of us, it feels like we’re just going through the motions; it’s not like we don’t care about Limmie, but it feels like our best times have passed us by.”

“Does this have anything to do with Chambers’ decision?” Gark asked, raising an eyebrow. Meredith Chambers, the Smugglers' All-Star goalie, had already announced 273 as her last season in what was sure to be a Hall of Fame career.

“No,” Dirxx replied. “But we understand where she’s coming from. Besides, we’re becoming outmoded anyways.”

“How so?”

“You’ve got all of the bench players who have more than enough experience to hold down the fort,” Dirxx continued. “Hell, I’ve been playing alongside many of them for a long time. Jerek, Alysha, Kev . . . they’ve been through a lot as well. But they’re younger, faster, stronger . . . we’re just going to break down at some point. My point . . . my point is that there are all those draft picks down on Thyferra who are looking to stick with the club here. I know you’ve got those guys scouted like crazy, wanting to know if they’ll develop into tomorrow’s stars. And I respect that; it’s the name of the game. But it also reminded us that we’re not as invincible as we used to think we were. If we stick around much longer, we’re going to start losing our jobs and our playing time. I know it sounds self-serving, but we’ve been starters so long that we don’t know how to come off the bench and play effectively . . .”

“So . . .”

“We decided to call it quits after this year,” Dirxx said. “All of our contracts are up at seasons’ end; we made it that way for a reason. Just in case we decided to give it one last try for a title, we’d be able to finish our contracts out at the same time and then retire. This gives us peace of mind, and helps the team by circumventing any buyouts or releases. But it’s not about the money; we’re just getting to the stage where we feel like it’s time to hang up the spikes. Let the new kids take over next season and keep up the team legacy; we did our part. Now it’s time for them to do theirs.”

More silence followed as Gark digested this information. He was going to effectively lose 1/3 of his entire roster at the end of the season, not good for anyone in his position. He would be able to replace the bodies easily enough . . . but he would lose the heart and soul of the team. Who would take up the mantle when the four captains were gone in 274? Who would lead the team into a new age?

“Thank you for informing me,” Gark said. He wasn’t quite sure how to say it, so he deadpanned his response.

“You’re probably disappointed . . .”

“Of course I am,” Gark said quickly. “I’m losing a third of my team next year, and that doesn’t include any other transactions or injuries that may occur this year. You guys are everything to this franchise . . . I guess I’m just not used to not having you all on the team.”

“It wasn’t an easy decision,” the Besalisk said. “We’ve thought about this moment for years, but always kept pushing it off, trying to prolong our careers. But I think it’s time that we moved on, because you’ve got a lot of talent ready to take our spots. We’ll finish this year off, and then we’ll move on with our lives.” He then reached a hand over for Gark to shake, and the Bothan accepted it.

“I hate to lose you guys, but I knew it was coming someday,” Gark said. “Just never thought it would be today.”

“Hey, we still have all season,” Dirxx said. “We can still make one last run for a third title.”

“That we can,” Gark said. “That we can.”

---

Game Day, Lessu, Ryloth

Gark watched as Pam gave the Senators one final speech before the game. It felt odd not being up there himself, but he was also glad that the pressure, at least for the moment, was off him. He wondered how the Zeltron would fare in her return to the League, given that her team back in 271 was nothing like what she had now. Gark had given her the keys to what easily could be described as the deepest team in the league. Not a single player on the roster was a rookie; everyone had ELL service time. The only issue was to see how she would do with this team. Expectations were going to be high, so he was glad to let her deal with it while he sat back. At least for now, anyways. If things went bad, he knew that his name would be tossed around once again to take over as Coach. Being a famous coach did that to you, even if you were retired from the profession.

It felt odd to go to a luxury suite instead of onto the field. Gark settled into his chair up in the box as he watched the thirty Senators players down below get set for the game to start. The start time had been delayed because Ryloth had raised their championship banner, and had given out the title rings to each of their players from the 272 season. This included current Senators Salata and Max Qorbus, who had an indifferent look on his face as his old teammates took their prizes and held them aloft to the crowd.

“Kind of odd being up here, isn’t it?” Londy Whiste asked.

“Yeah,” Gark replied. “I kind of miss being down there.”

“Don’t say that, because you’ll probably find your way back down there at some point,” the human said. “You always find a way.”

“We shall see,” Gark replied, not really paying attention. It was time for the 273 season to begin, and for the first time in a while, Gark felt rather unsure of what he was going to do.

TAG: JM_1977

 

IC: Ayn Dormingale
Great Iziz Field, Iziz, Onderon

The Miners' 273 season started on Onderon, home of last year's Commisioner's Trophy winners, the Crazy Dragons. The Dragons had made the playoffs in both of their two Elite League seasons and Jenna Leed had taken home the Salbukk--over Alana Glencross in what people had called a career year for Red. That was an impressive feat. It was also the opening of another campaign, Ayn Dormingale's plan, one she'd been thinking about ever since the Naboo trip.

Dormingale was neatly turned out in a yellow dress, once again to differentiate herself from the blue hues of the Crazy Dragon fans. She arrived at the stadium by taxi and once again entered via the direct lifts to the boxes. As the visiting team, the Noble House had been given a decent box, but not a prime one. That was standard procedure across the Elite League and how the Miners operated at Bakura Gardens.

When Ayn entered the box, she found that there was a smaller turn out than at the Bloom Bowl. Fiona, Oisin and his family, and Nessa and her children had all skipped this trip. Fiona enjoyed limmie, but she had never traveled except for the biggest games. Oisin spent a lot of his time watching Smuggler games (a particular torture for him) and Nessa was a diehard Patriot fan, something she'd instilled in her children. They were headed to Ylesia this week for the Patriots' return to the Elite League game, likely with the usual healthy contingent of the Patriot Nation that followed Chandrila wherever they went.

As Chairman, the Chancellor never missed a game. She never would, either, Ayn knew. The one other person that Declan said was always present was Regan Eldred and this was the first person who greeted Ayn when she stepped through the doorway of the box.

"Ayn, how are you enjoying Onderon?" Regan asked easily, a drink in her hand.

"Fine enough. I landed yesterdy afternoon, local time," Ayn said, "Iziz has a definite charm to it. I like the blue rooves."

"Mom! It's roofs!" Patrixa Eldred scolded. She was never called Patrixa by anyone, including her mother. The nickname Trixie had stuck instead.

"I think it's rooves," Regan replied.

"No, it's roofs!" Trixie insisted.

"Rooves sounds better."

"Rooves makes you sound like you're trying to sound upper class."

"We are upper class Trixie."

"Ayn, tell her it's roofs," Trixie said, turning to face the outsider.

"I would have said it's rooves," Ayn admitted.

Trixie groaned in frustration and stomped off.

"Ayn! How do you like Onderon?" Declan said, coming over to give Ayn a hug, "Beer? Wine?"

"Wine would be good, and Onderon is nice," Ayn said, "How do you like it?"

"We were here two years ago for the game. Terrible shame that the League didn't give us a game at the Gardens against Onderon," Declan said.

"We had two straight four home game seasons," Regan pointed out, "I don't think the League was inclined to be accommodating to us."

"Well, the hotel guidebook said that it has quite a bit of history. Apparently the Onderon Civil War was something like a proxy war during the Clone Wars?" Ayn said.

"It's a bit more nuanced than that, but the Separatists were definitely involved. The Republic...not so much, but it was a slippery slope," the Chancellor said, coming over.

"Oh, someone's been reading the secret archives underneath the Senate?" Regan said with a joking smile.

"Right. And you wouldn't believe who really killed Palpatine. Turns out it was the gunman on the grassy knoll," Kerry said.

"Of course. Because natural green space was so integral to the design of the second Death Star," Ayn said.

"Do you know that Mom refuses to tell me the truth about all of these conspiracies that I keep asking her about? I know that the Senate has files on all this stuff," Declan said.

"I'd be impeached if I did," Kerry said, "I think we're all here, I think we can have lunch brought in now."

---

"You know, there's something I've been wondering," Ayn said as she speared some salad on a fork. She delivered the line offhandedly, but it was a very calculated question she was about to set up. "How is it that the Noble House came to own the Miners?" She didn't put the question to anyone in particular.

"That is something of a story," Ronan Trieste said from one of the couches in the box where he was balancing a plate of food in one hand, "Sadly everybody who was involved with it isn't alive to tell it."

"Yes, but you heard it from your parents," Mandy said from next to her husband, "And you only tell it every time someone asks about it."

The Chancellor smiled. "Yes we do. It was one of our finest moments. It began over 60 years ago..."

---

209 ABY
Bakura

It was a harsh, dusty wind that blew against Fionn Trieste’s face. It tugged at the flight jacket that he wore, that he’d worn for years. It had been dark blue when he’d bought it before leaving his homeworld and it had faded to a lighter blue thanks to too many washes and too much light.

Fionn had seen a lot of things in this jacket. He’d seen Bakura receding into the distance as he left his homeworld in anger: anger at his mother for trying to plan his entire life for him, anger at his father because he didn’t want to do something “productive” with his life, anger at the fact he was expected not to care about xenophobia because “that was the way it had always been on Bakura.” He’d seen the insides of dingy cantinas during his days as a bounty hunter. He’d seen the glory of the Jedi Temple at Ossus, the inside of the Jedi Council’s chambers where few trod. He’d seen Coruscant’s sparkling spires and the seemingly mundane inner workings of the spy agencies that had been headquartered there. He’d seen the GFFA crumble and new governments rise in its place. He’d seen the Sith return and rip the galaxy apart in a massive war.

Fionn Trieste stood with dirt below his feet where once there had been verdant green. Fionn Trieste stood on Bakura, the world of his birth that his family had called home.

He’d seen so many things, but he’d never expected to see Bakura utterly destroyed.

Sure, the planet still existed (unlike Alderaan and Carida of yore), but that was all that could be said for it. The Neo-Sith War had been going on for a few years when contact had suddenly been lost with Bakura. Fionn had been on Coruscant at the time, absorbed in the war as Director of Republican Intelligence. The sudden silence had caught even him off guard. His sources and spies throughout the galaxy knew nothing of what had happened this deep behind the battle lines inside Sith territory. And the silence was pervasive. Everyone who went to discover the truth was never heard from again.

It was knowing this that Fionn Trieste received a call from his family’s attorneys on Denon. The loss of contact had persisted so long that instructions from his father in the event of a disappearance had kicked in. Fionn inherited the assets of the Noble House of Trieste and took the oath as Taoiseach that came with them.

Only after that did Fionn learn from Jedi Master Lan Xev that the Sith had not simply taken Bakura—something that everyone agreed had happened. They had bombarded it from space killing tens of millions of beings. The cities were reduced to rubble and ash. The countryside razed with fire. Only small hamlets were spared by the Sith—not because they had hidden, but because the Sith knew they were there. The Sith wanted survivors to tell the galaxy what they had done.

And tell they did. They told of how Fionn’s father, mother, brothers, sisters, and cousins had been killed by the Sith for resistance. They told of the terror of turbolaser raining from the skies, destroying everything, setting fire to fields, relentlessly and mercilessly pummeling into atoms proud cities and natural wonders alike. Fionn had never loved Bakura, but everything that had happened had ripped his soul out, leaving a raw wound inside his chest.

The wound never healed, but Fionn Trieste had not gotten where he was today without bleeding. He had not been bowed and broken. He resolved never to let the Sith win.

That was why he had helped convene the Assembly on the Future of Bakura, made up of 48,000 expatriots and travelers who had been off the planet when the Sith took it. There were more, but only 48,000 of them had cared enough to come to Coruscant. And they had voted to rebuild at the end of the war. Fionn had pledged 1 billion credits, nearly everything that he had inherited as Taoiseach to the effort. He was being hailed as one of the great philanthropists of the age—he disagreed. He’d never cared for credits. It was part of why he’d left Bakura in the first place. He wanted to see his planet made whole again. It would never fill the space that was empty inside of him, but maybe he could rest a bit better knowing he’d done what was right.

This was not Fionn’s first trip to the desolation of Bakura. He came here when he could to remind himself what he was fighting the Sith for. He came here to remind himself of everything he had to do.

But he couldn’t stay here. The war was elsewhere and Fionn Trieste had places to be.

---

The Faithful Mate Cantina, Vondarc
One day later



Fionn Trieste slipped through the backdoor of the Faithful Mate, one of billions of backwater cantinas that catered to beings of ill-repute or less than aboveboard occupations. Over the years Fionn had become quite adept at getting in and out places without being noticed. One didn’t make a good spy if you didn’t. By now it was second nature to him, but it was also a good idea when stepping inside a place like this.

Especially when the entire crew of a pirate ship was inside.

The beings who manned a ship known as the Wicked Wench were having a raucously good time tonight, as well they should given the large haul they’d just brought in. The spirits were flowing freely with glasses and mugs clinking.

It was hard to miss the head of the revelers—thanks in large part to the fact she was currently standing on a table, mug in hand, singing.

Captain Jane Wyvern had a flair for the dramatic. The great coat that the female human wore had no practical purpose, but it was quite fashionable and dashing. The same could be said, but double, when it came to her hat. Jane Wyvern had shot beings who had dared to touch her hat, which had probably seen better days, but it was hers and she guarded it jealously. The old vibrosword that clanked against her hip was another impractical touch. However, one had to admit that her knee high pixie boots were actually one of the few practical things about her appearance.

Jane Wyvern’s name did not inspire fear in spacers across the galaxy. She had been captured once or twice (the Captain would be the first to point out that she had also escaped once or twice) and had once been called the worst space pirate that anyone had ever heard of (and yet, the Captain would point out, they had still heard of her). Not much of that mattered, because she had her ship and a crew.

Fionn took a seat at a secluded back table and watched the pirates. There was a considerable bounty on the Captain in certain parts of the galaxy. Had he still been in that business he would have considered collecting it. He was reasonably sure that he could get to the Captain if he was patient enough, even with her crew around.

He was right. The Captain traipsed across several tables in the middle of her crew’s merry making and plopped into a seat next to Fionn.

“We’re a festival of conviviality, aren’t we!” Wyvern said.

“Nice day at the office, dear?” Fionn asked.

“Took down a Sith cruiser and sold her and her cargo off this very day,” the Captain said, “Quite a haul.”

And with that Captain Jane Wyvern kissed Fionn, for she was in reality Captain Jane Wyvern Trieste, Fionn’s bride. A Bakuran by birth, they had met at the Assembly on the Future of Bakura and a makeshift alliance between the two to sway the convention to vote to rebuild Bakura had bloomed into a relationship recently turned into a marriage. As an engagement gift Fionn had given her not just the traditional Bakuran gift of a braided silver chain but also a Republican pardon and a letter of marquee to maraud the space lanes legally in search of the Sith to aid the war effort. Jane had called them “the perfect engagement presents”.

The pair were separated by the war, but Fionn was able to slip away from time to time to meet his wife when she made port.

“What’s my spymaster been up to?” Jane asked as she stroked Fionn’s chin affectionately.

“I went to Bakura yesterday,” Fionn said.

Jane sighed. She didn’t understand her husband’s obsessive need to keep returning to the dustball of a planet. She would go back with him after the reconstruction, but not now. “Why must you do that?” she asked. Though her public persona was quite flamboyant, she was much more subdued with her husband.

“I need to see it. I need to see where my parents, my family died,” Fionn said.

“Where my family died too,” Jane reminded him, “They died for their freedom. Let us live to make the galaxy free.”

“We will…but I have to remember. We have to remember,” Fionn said firmly.

“The galaxy will,” Jane promised, “They will never forget, not after what you did.”

“After what we did,” Fionn corrected.

“You donated a billion credits. I think you did the heavy lifting. Without even asking me, your wife, about it,” Jane said, affecting displeasure, “I could have used a billion credits. Gotten myself a couple destroyers. Then I’d be Admiral Jane Wyvern…Admiral…” her eyes sparkled.

“We weren’t even engaged then,” Fionn pointed out.

“So you like to point out every time I bring it up,” Jane pouted.

“I wish there was some way that we could remind the galaxy that Bakura hasn’t died, that we’re still fighting…” Fionn said.

“Maybe the spymaster has to get out of the shadows a bit more,” Jane suggested, tracing a finger down his arm.

“I’m just a being. The galaxy needs something bigger than one being. A movement…” Fionn said.

“Luke Skywalker was a being and bigger than one at the same time. Han Solo was a being and bigger than one,” Jane pointed out.

“I don’t want to be Bakura’s messiah.”

Just then a roar went up from some of Jane’s crew, interrupting their merriment.

“What’s all this, my hearties!” Jane yelled.

“C-Bucs goal!” one of them shouted back.

Jane just rolled her eyes and took a long pull on her mug.

“What’s that?” Fionn asked.

“The Hapes Consortium Buccaneers. As if the name wasn’t enough, the male members of my crew would of course love fifteen gorgeous women who know how to play limmie,” Jane groaned.

“Limmie? Limmie…” Fionn said. A notion suddenly took shape in his head. “My dear, you always come up with the best ideas.”

“Of course I do, but which one would this be?” Jane asked as Fionn got up.

“I’ll tell you later!” Fionn said, “Good hunting!”

“Good spying, love!” Jane shouted, not really caring that shouting the word "spy" was probably not the best idea.

---

“Man, do you remember when Mom would get singing?” Siona remarked, interrupting the story.

“Oh yeah,” Ronan said, “When Dad wasn’t around she’d sing pirate songs.”

“At the dinner table sometimes,” Oisin said, rolling her eyes.

“And there was her favorite,” Regan said, “I’ll never forget it.”

“None of us will,” Kerry pointed out, “I mean for Force sake, we still sing it at weddings.”

“That all started at your wedding,” Oisin said, pointing an accusatory finger at Kerry, “I still don’t know how it happened, but then we had to do it at all of our weddings.”

“Hey hey ho,” Siona started.

“Oh Maker no,” her youngest brother said before the other rest of his siblings, Kerry included, started singing.

“It’s one for all for one
And we’ll share and share alike with you
And love you like a son
We’re gentlebeings of fortune
And that’s what we’re proud to be
And when you’re a professional pirate…”

“You’ll be honest brave and free!” Siona said.

“The soul of decency!” Regan added.

“You’ll be loyal and fair and on the square!” Ronan chimed in.

“And most importantly,” Kerry tacked on.

“When you’re a professional pirate
You’re always in the best of company!” they all finished together. Once they finished all the children of Jane Trieste broke into laughter, even Oisin who couldn’t help herself. Ayn applauded with a broad smile.

“How have I never heard about these pirate songs before?” Declan demanded.

“Yeah!” Ginnifer demanded, “You never sung them to me!”

“I was going to get around to it when you were older,” Siona said evasively.

“I’m in college Mom!” Ginnifer said.

“Well...it slipped my mind,” Siona said.

Kerry waved a steward over. “I think in memory of my mother we should break out the rum,” she said as she handed over her unfinished whiskey, “Now, where was I? Right. My father had just left our mother after hearing about the C-Bucs…”

---

Coruscant
One week later

“And how is my favorite cousin these days?” the former Galactic Senator Aine Trieste asked Fionn before kissing him on the cheek.

“I think you mean your only cousin,” Fionn replied.

“Such a stickler for details,” Aine said dismissively. Aine was the only other Trieste alive in the galaxy. She’d been serving as the sector’s Galactic Senator when the GFFA had dissolved and Bakura had chosen not to join the fledgling Republic. The choice had likely sealed their fate as it had been widely reported that the Defense Fleet had been outgunned and overwhelmed by the Sith. Aine had decided that she enjoyed life on Coruscant and had stayed there, inadvertently escaping what would have been death back on Bakura. “And speaking of which, shouldn’t you be winning a war or something?”

“This is about Bakura,” Fionn said.

“For the last time Fionn, 1 billion credits of Trieste money is enough. Just because you gave yours doesn’t mean I’m giving mine,” Aine replied. Like Fionn, the Sith occupation had meant she had inherited quite a bit of property—some of which was worthless thanks to the Sith, but the liquid assets were quite intact.

“It’s more an investment opportunity,” Fionn said, “I think we should buy the Miners.”

“The Miners? Those loveable losers?” Aine laughed in surprise, “They don’t exist anymore Fionn!”

“They do and they don’t. Last year, when the Sith took Bakura they were off world for a game. They forfeited their games because they had no money to keep playing and the team went into bankruptcy. I’ve made some inquiries. With Bakura gone, the team went into bankruptcy in Republican courts and has languished there, unclaimed. You and I should buy them.”

“Why in the Force would we want to do that? They’ve got to be riddled with debt,” Aine said.

“I’ve made discreet inquiries,” Fionn said.

“You are good at that,” Aine interjected.

“I’ve been told for 20 million credits we could resolve the existing debts. Estimates of operating expenses for the coming season would depend on salaries, but the Elite League average right now is 30 million a year. Between us we could come up with that,” Fionn explained, “And that’s pre-revenue.”

“Fionn, what has gotten a hold of you. I don’t recall you ever even liking sports.”

“This isn’t about me—this is about showing the galaxy that Bakura is fighting back, about showing our fellow Bakurans that there’s something they can believe in,” Fionn said.

“Even if I agreed to this—which I’m not right now—we have no stadium, we have no coaches, no management, no players, nothing. And the Miners were an Elite League team, but who says that they’ll take them back?” Aine said.

“Just hear me out,” Fionn said, and he proceeded to explain his plans.

When he was finished, Aine had just one demand.

“51-49 split,” she said, “And I’m the 51.”

“Done,” Fionn agreed.

---

"...and that's how the Miners became property of the Noble House," Regan finished.

"Though not actually the Noble House," Sioina pointed out, "Aine's holdings were her own personal property, but Dad rolled his 49% into the Noble House's property, which is passed from Taoiseach to Taoiseach."

"I do believe that we're about to get started," Mandy Syfred announced, "The teams are lining up."

The Triestes and Ayn filtered to the seats in the front of the box to watch the opening day game.

"I can't believe Mom never told us about these pirate songs!" Declan said to Ayn, "I was just a kid when Grandma died and I don't remember her ever teaching me these songs. I'm going to make her teach them all to me. I mean how many people can say they have authentic pirate songs in their family history?"

"Not me," Ayn said with a smile, "Maybe my Mom knows some chamber music from Naboo, but that's about it."

"I think I'd take the pirate songs," Declan said.

"I would too," Ayn said with a wink as they took their seats.

Declan turned to say something to his cousin Ginnifer and when he did, Ayn smiled privately to herself. Yes, this was just the start that she wanted.

TAG: Teegirloo

 

IC: Meredith Chambers
Personal Quarters, Nar Shaddaa



It was the start of another limmie season for Meredith Chambers. But this time, as she packed her bags for the season opener at Vandelhelm, she paused on her way out the door. She took one look at her apartment, all the memorabilia reflecting a lifetime in the Elite League, all the accolades, all the victories, all the defeats. Every moment preserved for posterity. Maybe it was narcissistic, maybe it was selfish, maybe she didn’t really care what others thought, but things were different since announcing her retirement from the league.

Suddenly she found herself taking long moments of reflection in the kitchen, only the clock ticking on the wall accompanying her thoughts. Thoughts that swirled around what had been, what could’ve been, and what was to come in the coming year. She thought of the schedule, the brutal three week stretch against bitter rivals Coruscant, Chandrila, and Bakura. But Chambers couldn’t help but smile at the schedule. She wouldn’t have her last year in the league be any other way. No, there would be struggle, there would be adversity, but she knew in her heart that no matter what happened this year she would face it with the strength and courage that had come to define a stellar career in the Elite League.

She had heard the rumors pegging her as a first round Hall of Famer. Well, maybe so, but things still needed to be done. She’d won three Galactic Cup championships for this franchise, but she wanted number four. She wanted it so bad she was willing to risk further injury to her body to go after her dream of hoisting that beautiful silver trophy high above her head one last time. And in those moments of great reflection, of dreaming, of being quiet, she thought of the fans who had made her journey so wonderful.

She thought of the city of Nar Shaddaa, the entire Smugglers Moon, the fans who treated her as one of the gang, someone they could buy a beer for, someone they could extend a helping hand if she ever struggled. But she hadn’t struggled, in fact, Chambers had done quite the opposite and had been incredibly active in programs such as the Valor Foundation that helped at-risk youth in the lower levels of the city. Youth that really loved limmie and were given free seats, good ones too, by the Smugglers organization as a way to make a positive impact in the lives of these kids. Kids whose parents had given them up for adoption, kids whose parents struggled with drugs, kids who simply needed the love and attention that they had so simply asked for when they were born.

Being with these kids made Chambers feel so worthwhile and made her realize that there was so much more to life than the Elite League. Forget winning Galactic Cup championships, there was nothing like making a child smile, making them feel worthwhile, making them feel as if they were the only thing that mattered in the entire galaxy. And the truth was, that’s all that truly mattered, helping another soul out in times of need.

So Chambers fought hard. She fought hard for the well off, she fought hard for the under-privileged, she fought hard for everything that the Vertical City embodied. And that was okay with her. She loved this city. She had given her life to this city and now as she boarded the team shuttle for Vandelhelm, she wanted to give the city one last gift before she closed off her professional career and hung up her cleats. She wanted to grab ring number four, come hell or high water. Yes, 273 was a tough schedule. The Smugglers couldn’t have drawn a harder lot to pursue that magical victory but she knew they were going to do well this year. She knew they were going to win. And if for any reason they faltered, if for any reason she stumbled and fell, she would pick herself back up, brush off the dust, ignore the grass stains, and say she did her very best and call it a career.

Yeah, as the shuttle left Nar Shaddaa to go to Vandelhelm, Chambers looked longingly at the city she called home. A song came to her from a long time ago. She had forgotten most of the lyrics but one of the lines just defined everything for her.

“I have to go and see some friends of mine, some that I don't know, some who aren't familiar with my name. It's something that's inside of me, not hard to understand! It's anyone who listened to these things. If your hours are empty now, who am I blame? You think if I were always here our love would be the same. As it is the time we have is worth the time alone, lying by your side the greatest peace I've ever known.."

 

​

IC: Beskaryc Taab
MandalMotors Hall, manda'yaim

Taab looked around at the assembled "guests" in the great hall. They had been summoned from across the Galaxy to hear their supreme leader, the Mand'alor speak to them all. The heads of all the great Clans were here. Fett, Ordo, Vizsla, the list went on. Beskaryc was here of course to represent clan Taab, a proud clan to be sure, but not one with the pedigrees of the others. The upcoming battle would be an uphill one for him.

He glanced back towards the rear of the hall. There were holo-cameras set up there, the first time since the Draft had been held here before the previous season. Normally clan business was kept private, away from the prying eyes of the aruetiise, but this announcement was for everyone. Taab was sure that once it was made, the holo-cameras would disappear from within the hall until a decision could be made. Knowing the purpose of this meeting his mind began to wander.

Week one games would be starting soon, and somehow the Crusaders, had been matched up with the Waves for Concordia's home opener. Taab wished he could be there, to rub the aiwha-bait's "noses" in his freedom. So too would he miss much of the day to day operations of his own team as he maneuvered here to his own advantage. But he knew the team was in good hands with his wife. Married to her her he could control her much better than he could otherwise.

His attention was brought back to the front of the room, as the Mand'alor took his position and began to speak. But he knew the basics of what the Supreme leader would say, and so Taab began to once again think on his team for this season, for he knew it's fortunes on the field would affect his own off of it.

---

IC: Jaya "barefoot" Tam
Mercs training camp, MandalMotors Field, Concordia

Jaya thought she was used to the heat and the grueling atmosphere of a Limmie training camp. After all she had gone through four years of spring drills at the University of Shili. But those years had done nothing to prepare her for this. She thought she was in shape, but the Mercs regulars seemed to fly past her in every drill. Even the reserve players were making her look a step too slow. Her only saving grace seemed to be that fellow first year player, Broussard, was having the same issue.

She took another pass from one of the coaches, and spun past one the practice defenders before planting her toes in the soft earth of the field and launching herself high into the air. She shot the ball towards the back of the net where it came to rest with a loud thwack against the net. These were drills of course, so there was no goaltender, and only the one "defender" to beat, but it was the kid of play that made the coaching staff take notice. Coach Vizsla took one look at the ball in the net and then looked to her bare feet. "We wear socks and shoes in this league missy," was all he said before moving on.

Socks and shoes? How was she supposed to play in socks and shoes? How could she play cut off from the land around her. From its song which helped create the rhythm of her play? She shook her head, and gritted her teeth. She didn't want to defy the coach on this, it could be her only shot to play at the ELL level. She would wear the shoes, for at least one game.

---

Home locker room, Meshla Vhetin.
Mercs/Crusaders "friendly". Final score Crusaders 16, Mercs 2

Jaya sat in front of her locker, her grassy and muddy shoes beside her. While Mercs training camp was held at the Crusaders home field on Concordia, the friendly match was held in the much larger Meshla Vhetin. This year it had been billed as the Mandalorian Cup, a title game between the two teams which had played for titles in their respective leagues last season. The Crusaders had of course come away with the PLL championship, while the Galactic Cup matchup and proved to be too much for the Mercs to handle.

Despite the billing, the Mercs didn"t take the game seriously. The offense in particular was moving at only half speed, determined to come through the game without injury. Even most of the reserve players were taking it easy as they took over to play the entire second half. But not Jaya, she had done her best to be fast, to be agile, to be decisive. But the shoes she had been forces to wear cut her away from her instincts. She ended the game with no points and several turnovers.

No one approached her after the game. It wasn't like anyone really cared about the outcome. But as she stared into the small mirror in her locker she couldn't help but figuratively look over her shoulder. Broussard had scored 7 points for the Crusaders, she was clearly their new star forward, and she was already nipping at Jay's heals. If she continued to play well, and Jaya poorly, she knew she would be called up to take Jaya's place. Jaya scowled at the mirror as she tore off her jersey.

The game itself had also been such a shock. The stadium had been so loud, and the Mandalorian fans there so boisterous. She wasn't used to that level of...dedication from the fans. Or their profanity, of which she couldn't understand much, but their meaning was clear. Many of the fans didn't think she had what it took. They thought she was too small, too slight and no where near tough enough to play their game, whatever their guttural word for it was.

She looked back down at the shoes she had been forced to wear. She knew they had held her back, she hadn't been able to play to her ability. She would show them all what she could do. She picked up the cleats and threw them in the nearest trash bin. Then she marched into the coach's office.

---

Mando'ade Mercs announce Jaya Tam (Togruta female) Center half forward is inactive for Week one game (Mercs at Storm) for failure to follow team rules.

---

IC: Beskaryc Taab
Coruscant Spaceport, following the 272 ELL Galactic Cup Finals

"Silence Taab, I would speak with you," came from the Mand'alor. Taab shouldn't have been surprised the the supreme leader of the Mandalorian people would be here to witness the match, but what interest he had in Taab at the moment was beyond him. Instead he looked up at his ruler, their eyes meeting through their T-Visors. The Mand'alor came right to the point."I am stepping down as ruler, sometime in the next year." Taab's jaw dropped under his buy'ce. Most Mand'alors had held onto the office until their deaths, natural or otherwise, and while stepping down wasn't unheard of, it was quite rare. "Besides my own clan you are the first to know." Taab tried his best to remain still, stoic, but his mind was churning. Why was the Manda'alor telling him, now, before informing the heads of other, even more prestigious clans? "If this game had been won by your team I would have appointed you my successor, we mando'ade love a winner."

Taab nodded at that, still unsure of just where the conversation was going. "You and your team, your clan, have done well enough to be in the conversation. But there are others. I will be informing them as well, stay silent on this before a general announcement can be made." Taab bowed his head once again. "Of course Mand'alor..."

"It will be some time before everyone can be notified, the head of clan Ordo has been away for some time. I have summoned him. When he returns, deliberations will begin." At that the Mand'alor dismissed Taab. Taab had more questions, but this was not the time. He wondered how long it would take for Ordo to return from whatever hunt he was on. In the meantime Taab would do his best to position his pieces...

---

IC: Beskaryc Taab
MandalMotors Hall, Manda'yaim present time.

The Mand'alor had just finished his speech, detailing the reasons he was stepping down from the lofty position. The news came as no shock to heads of the great clans. True to his word the Manda'alor had informed them all previously, in private. They in turn had stayed silent until the news could be announced to the Galaxy at large. Failure to do so would have had...unfortunate consequences.

Still the news would have come as quite the surprise to the rank and file mando'ade, and an absolute shock to the aruetiise. Speculatoin would run rampant for the next few weeks an debate raged in the Hall. A new leader would have to be chosen, and Taab would do everything he could to make sure that it was him.

TAG: All who want to react to the news of the Mand'alor stepping down. @jcgoble3 for game stuff.

 

IC: Lucie Vigo


The Starkillers had to scramble to find a head coach, it was unheard of for an ELL coach to step down mid way through the off season the way Coach Foress had. Lucie was not surprised in the least when she heard his personal troubles included his wife leaving. But Lucie was too busy finalizing her own squad’s roster, finishing up a final class project and working to care. When the new coach a female Chiss named Acc'lar'laitha who went by "Clara" was hired Lucie didn’t give much thought to that either. That was until her regular mid week on field practice.


As each and every time before Lucie walked out onto the field with her squad for their mid week rehearsal, right away she noticed the team was occupying the entire field. The section usually left for the dance team was being occupied by Limmie players doing tackle drills. At first Lucie thought it would just be a simple case of reminding the assistant coach running the drills that it was her squad’s scheduled practice time. She quickly found out she was wrong.

She didn’t know this particular assistant by name, so she got his attention “Excuse me” she said politely. “This section of the field is reserved for dance team rehearsal.”

“Not anymore” the assistant grumbled.

“I didn’t notice a change in scheduling” Lucie replied, again with politeness.

“There hasn’t been, new coach says we need the field more than you do. If you have a problem with that, you best go discuss it with her.”

So Lucie headed over to the sideline where the coach was overseeing some defensive drills. This time she decided to use a more direct approach. “My squad uses the section of field over there” she stated gesturing toward the tackling drills “for rehearsals every week at this time.”

Clara didn’t even look up from here datapad. “This is Limmie practice not ballerina practice”.

Lucie was speechless. She didn’t want an argument with the head coach. She decided to hold rehearsal inside as normal and take it up with the team manager later. Her conversation with Mr. Clarke did not go much better. He insisted that if the coach needed the field the coach should have the field. Lucie ended up having to hold her on field rehearsal very late at night, but she was told she was lucky she was scheduled in at all. Even at the late hour the new coach was on the field yelling at players who obviously weren’t practicing up to her standards.


Before Lucie knew what hit her it was the day before the first game of the season. Of all teams the Starkillers were playing the Monarchs. The Starkillers were starting two former Monarchs they had acquired in a trade during the off season. Lucie hoped this would be an advantage for the Starkillers. Of course, the only thing she could do to help contribute to a Starkillers win was make sure the crowd was behind the team. Since it was a home game she had the advantage and she planned to use it.

Tag: CPL_Macja

 

GM Post

--Player Transaction Wire--
Coruscant Senators

• Griff Hakuna (Twilek, Male, Left Corner Back) signed to 2-year contract and assigned to Thyferra
• Kiek Libby (Human, Male, Defensive Back) signed to 1-year contract and assigned to Thyferra

TAG: Jedi Gunny

 

To: Dennett Halverson
Rossum Bookmakers

Mr. Halverson,

I would like to apologize for having forsaken our business arrangement for the last few seasons, but by my accounting I currently have 1 million credits in an accountwith you. I would like to place the following wagers:

Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Ralltiir Stakillers: 100,000 credits on the Monarchs to win
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Vandelham Jets: 75,000 credits on the Smugglers to win
Bakura Miners at Onderon Crazy Dragons: 75,000 credits on the Miners to win
Coruscant Senators at Ryloth Rough Riders: 75,000 credits on the Senators to win
Mando’ade Mercs at Euceron Storm: 75,000 credits on the Mercs to win
Chandrila Patriots at Ylesia Lightning: 50,000 credits on the Patriots to win

Thank you and have a good day,

Client 24601

TAG: Trieste

 

IC: No one in particular

To: Galactic Cup Final Selection Committee
From: Euceron Storm front office, Euceron Tourism and Convention Department, and City of Eusebus
Subject: 273 Galactic Cup Final bid

To Whom It May Concern:

It is the pleasure of the Euceron Storm, in conjunction with the Euceron Tourism and Convention Department and the Eusebus City Council, to once again file a bid to host the Galactic Cup Final. Euceron and particularly the city of Eusebus have a long and storied history of hosting major sporting events, including the Galactic Cup Final of six years ago and dating all the way back to the Galactic Games of 27 BBY. It was at those Galactic Games, exactly three hundred years ago, that the building now known as Euceron Stadium and home to the Euceron Storm first opened, and thus we feel there is no better way to cap off the stadium's tricentennial celebrations than to host our second Final.

The stadium has seen major renovations in the past few years, including the addition of nearly 70,000 seats this past offseason, which raises the stadium's capacity to approximately 270,000, as well as the addition of a retractable roof, ensuring that the Final will not have to be played on a snow-covered field if the Euceron winter decides to stick around later than usual.

Security is always a concern at any large event, as is the infrastructure to host such large amounts of visitors. The full details of how we intend to satisfy these requirements are laid out in the attached 26-page document, but in summary I will say here that very little preparation work will be needed to provide the necessary security and infrastructure for the Final, as Euceron will be hosting the 172nd Galactic Games during weeks five and six of the Elite League season and thus most of the details will already be in place before the Final rolls around.

It is our hope that the Selection Committee will look on this bid with favor and select Euceron to host the 118th Galactic Cup Final.

Sincerely,
Dr. Aebatt Zargana, General Manager, Euceron Storm
Gann Sanus, Euceron Secretary of Tourism and Convention
Halena Norel, Mayor of Eusebus

TAG: Trieste

 

GM Post

Happy Opening Day!

As you might have intuited from the above post, bids for hosting the 273 Galactic Cup Final are now being accepted. To host the Final, all you have to do is tell me that you are interested in doing so and you'll be considered. However, in the event that I receive multiple bids, I will likely prefer bids made in-game to the League explaining why their site is best suited to host the Final more than someone just sending me a PM saying they're interested. I would like to decide on who is hosting the final by May 5.

We all got in plenty of posting during a much more interesting offseason and Draft than usual, so bonus rolls to Bakura, Coruscant, Euceron, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, Onderon, Ralltiir, Rydonni Prime, Ryloth, Vandelhelm, and Ylesia today.

Week 1
Mando’ade Mercs at Euceron Storm (31-14)
Coruscant Senators at Ryloth Rough Riders (32-15)
Chandrila Patriots at Ylesia Lightning (23-2)
Bakura Miners at Onderon Crazy Dragons (26-25)
Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Vandelhelm Jets (22-15)
Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Ralltiir Starkillers (31-16)

TAG: Bardan_Jusik CPL_Macja jcgoble3 Jedi Gunny JediMaster1511 JM_1977 Liam_Vehn Rebecca_Daniels Runjedirun Teegirloo

 

IC: Zoa Vra

"It's our first game in our first season in the Elite League; obviously there are still some kinks to work out. It's a learning process, and we'll try not to repeat the same mistakes next time."

Her forced smile and calm voice as the holo reporters shoved their cams in her face belied the anger that seethed just beneath her skin. Losing twenty-three to two to Chandrila in their first game in the Elite League, on their home field no less.

"You had two fumbled passes on great scoring chances. After your shoulder injury last season, are you certain you're up to Elite League standards?"

Her head lowered and she clenched her fists. "My shoulder is fine," she ground out, managing just barely to keep a leash on her temper.

Another brave - more like foolhardy - reporter stepped forward.

"What do you say to those who think that with the transition to the Elite League, the team needs to transition its leadership as well and perhaps move to a younger, healthier Captain?"

Zoa let out a particularly vulgar Huttese curse and shoved through the small crowd of reporters. They were just goading her so they could get some attention; Ylesians seemed to feed off of controversy. Unfortunately, it looked like they'd get their fair share of it.

After Kasin had loudly complained about drafting another goalkeeper - never mind that he was promptly assigned to their development league team - the local media had latched onto her complaints, exaggerating and expanding them until they made it out that Kasin wanted off the team. Kasin had tried to correct them numerous times, but the soundbytes mysteriously vanished.

She'd been stalking off to their gym, but abruptly changed direction and ended up in GM To's office.

"We need to hire our own media team."

The Togruta woman looked completely unsurprised at the intrusion. "We've never needed one before, the local holonews has always handled things well."

Zoa waved her hands in frustration. "Did you hear the questions they were asking me? We might not have needed one in the GCLA but we need one now. Before I murder a reporter and give them something to write about." She stomped out of the room without another word.

--

The Ylesia Lightning are pleased to welcome Lejique Beiron, Inaf'avin'trynyk "Favin", and Asca Dudo to the team as the new PR and media department. All interview requests for members of the Lightning organisation must be approved by this department from now on.

TAG: No one

 

IC: Gark S’rily
Kala’unn Memorial Stadium, Lessu, Ryloth



Rayel Edare, the backup forward, charged the goal, and after a brilliant pass from Lokesh Fil’ish over the head of former Thyferra Force corner back Gill Ry’ston, landed in the arms of the Pantoran. It was amazing how many throws like that the Bothan Center Half Forward made; she was truly a professional field general out there. Rayel had easily burned her defender, and was alone with Zeke Barbosa, the Ryloth goalie. The Pantoran, trying to make good on this new opportunity with the Senators, painted the corner of the net with her shot. Barbosa, for whatever reason, was too slow, and the ball smacked into the back of the net.

The Senator box erupted in cheers as Edare’s teammates congratulated her on the goal. Gark clapped several times, but once again he knew that Edare couldn’t hear him. Down on the field, he could see Pamila Korthe yell out encouragement to her players as they readied themselves for the reset and kickoff. That had once been him, and every time the Senators scored, it felt odd to be up here instead of down there, managing the game. He had wanted to take a hands-on approach with the team over the offseason; the only problem was that being a GM meant looking more at names and abilities rather than actually using them for any practical purpose. That was the coach’s job . . . and it was a bitter pill to swallow for Gark to know that he had given all that up.

It didn’t take long for the Senators to grab another opportunity. Rookie corner back Re Kuun, making his Elite League debut, fumbled the ball when hit by Syprul Raches, and the Shistavanen grabbed the ball. The Ryloth defense never reset, because they had been moving forwards with the ball, so the offensive zone was surprisingly open for the Senator forwards. Syprul sent off a kick with his left foot that bounced once on its way to Max Qorbus on the other side. Qorbus, playing against his former teammates, showed off his skills by beating Barbosa with a skip shot that settled easily into the net for another Senator goal. The lead was beginning to grow for the Senators, which was taking the air out of the stadium. The Rough Rider fans, so jubilant at the banner-raising in the pre-game festivities, were now seeing the ugly side of being the hunted team as the defending champions. It was never easy to come back and play after winning the Cup; the Senators had found that out the hard way in 263, but almost broke through in 269, when the Vandelhelm Jets stepped in their way twice to somehow pull off the title.

Gark had to admit; Pam knew what she was doing. With the offensive system in place, she was calling the shots effectively and shrewdly. Defensive assignments came in on time, for the most part stifling the Rough Riders on offense. It was going to be interesting to see how the defense responded the next few weeks, given that some new personnel had come up during the offseason and were still working on their part in the system. This was especially true for Zummarrorroo and Pasla Tesh, the former Force players who now were trying to carve out a niche on the Coruscant squad. Tesh hadn’t done much in this game, but that was expected as starting corners Jerek Deter and Shayt Contar were playing lights-out in their respective areas, and Sheila Nightshade, the veteran reserve, was doing her job relieving the starters when they needed a break. What was interesting to see was how the Rough Riders were dealing with a new defensive concept for the Senators. Defensive Coordinator Palla Tyroti was throwing a 5-2-7 alignment on at least 30% of Ryloth’s offensive possessions, with Zummarrorroo as the swingman. The concept was to add a beefy half Back in the middle of the formation to clamp down in a zone formation. In theory, Center Half Back Saram Golyxi was allowed to confront the ball coming in from the middle of the field at the top of the defensive zone, in a similar fashion to the 1-3-2 defensive scheme that the Prytis College of Natural Sciences had run in their 272 Galactic Championship run. However, adding the Wookiee to the space where Saram had once occupied allowed for extra suffocation of the middle, and with experienced defenders in the Back 6 the Senators had done quite well with this scheme. It wasn’t used to excess by design, but it was effective when it was called for.

The confidence in this defensive scheme paid off one again when Shayt blasted a Rough Rider forward, causing her to fumble the ball. Dirxx picked up the ball and launched it up the field to Laryssa Oneida. Oneida then passed off to Wylega Zola, who then threaded the needle and hit Bel Erein with a crisp pass. Erein, a Mon Calamari, ran a hook to the left to draw the defense’s attention, not to mention Barbosa’s. When the shift was on for Ryloth, Erein passed to the wide open middle, where Syprul was standing. The biruly Shistavanen easily bulled over his defender and slammed a shot into the goal. Another easy goal for the Senators, who were having their way with the enemy today.

As the last few minutes ticked off the clock, Zadd, the reserve Defel forward, pushed another shot over the bar to give Coruscant 32 points in the game. Ryloth responded in garbage time with a bar point by Card’ib against backup goalie Jayla Leed, but that was it. The final horn sounded, sealing Coruscant’s 32-15 win over the defending champs. Gark instantly did an assessment of the team’s performance. The defense had done its job, and Venn Sto had been sturdy in goal. The midfielders hadn’t looked perfect, but they were effective. The ball made its way through them like it should, and although the middies only had one point from Alysha Romax to show for their effort, they had easily outmatched the Ryloth midfielders. On offense, the ball had been distributed well; four of the five starters (not counting Lokesh, who hadn’t scored a point in years and never looked to score unless absolutely necessary) had scored in the game, along with several reserves. Polis Vayne had led the balanced attack with 8 points, while Max and Syprul both netted a pair of goals to help out. On the overall, a textbook win for the Senators, who were starting 1-0 for the first time since 270.

Gark entered the locker room to catch the last bits of Pam’s post-game speech. When she was done, Gark approached her. The Zeltron coach looked up.

“Not a bad game,” Gark said.

“Hey now, I’m not a rookie at this level,” Pam shot back. “I’ve won a few games. Besides, Ryloth had it coming. They beat the crap out of us a few years back, so we’re just returning the favor.”

“Any word on the injuries?” Gark asked.

“Evis looks to be out a few weeks, so we’ll have to fill in for him,” Pam replied. Gark groaned; with Evis Kunat, a reserve half back, out, that would reduce the effectiveness of the 5-2-7 as a scheme to be used the next week against Onderon. Now a corner back would likely have to be used; Tesh might get his chance yet. “And Riff should be able to play next week. He just got nicked up, that’s all. Nothing major.”

“All right,” Gark said. “You called one hell of a game. To come in here and beat the defending champs so soundly . . . that’s quite the feat, especially since you hadn’t coached a lot of these players much before today.”

“You underestimate my ability,” the Zeltron replied. “Besides, you know a thing or two about that yourself, back when you were coaching. No one expected a lot out of you, and yet there you were, keeping this team relevant in the face of adversity. I’ll just say that I learned from the best.”

“Fine with me,” Gark said. “Now it’s back home, to try and start off this year 2-0. Let’s go into conference play with as few nicks and bruises as possible, because it’ll be a bloodbath this year.”

“No argument there,” Pam said. “But a win is nothing to sneeze at; it’ll give us confidence going into next week, which I intend to use.”

Gark agreed; a win was all he could have asked for to start the season. Now the Senators needed to continue to roll along.

TAG: JM_1977, Teegirloo

 

Sub-GM Post

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

Limmie Futures League
Week 1
Kamino Waves at Concordia Crusaders (12–19)
Shili Suncrushers at Denon Demons (4–8)
Kashyyyk Rangers at Kessel Runners (9–15)
Commenor Gundarks at Thyferra Force (15–9)
Tatooine Sandskimmers at Druckenwell Marksmen (11–10)

TAG: JM_1977, Bardan_Jusik, Liam_Vehn, Rebecca_Daniels, Jedi Gunny, Teegirloo, Runjedirun, JediMaster1511

 

IC: Jed Ortmeyer
Thyferra Stadium at Byree Clearing

Jed took off the headset, allowing his sweaty hair to finally escape its prison. His Thyferra Force squad had just lost a hard-fought game against the visiting Commenor Gundarks 15-9. It had been one of those rough-and-tumble games where neither team gave an inch, and at least it hadn’t been a blowout. But, the loss still nagged on Jed; it was a game the Force could have had.

The defense had been spectacular, at least until the very end. Reid Livingstone, making his first career pro start, had looked great at corner back, making plays when necessary and being a general nuisance to the Gundark forwards. If he kept this up, he would be a good player someday. The CorTech combo of Bratter and Wyley hadn’t been perfect, but they had also been solid. Griff Hakuna, who had just been signed, looked shaky in his first game, but he hadn’t had much practice time all week to get acclimated, so that explained volumes. Overall, the defense had done what it needed to, but it hadn’t been enough to secure the win.

On offense, the Force just couldn’t get it going. Maff Biskis, the top scorer returning from last season, had been stifled all day long, not even recording a point. This forced the other forwards to make plays, which they seemed hesitant to do. Paz and Dypral, two long-time Force players, both looked like they couldn’t handle starting, and had coughed the ball up too many times. Team Captain Mychele Lysar had contributed a point over the bar, but little else. The lone bright spots had been Dauza Chary and Dizzy Rol’per. Chary, despite only scoring one point, made good passes that should have led to scoring opportunities. Rol’per, the reserve forward, had scored a team-high five points, with a nifty-looking goal that tied it up early on in the second half.

As the team filed out of the locker room after the game to go home, Jed wondered what he could do the next week to try and get a digit in the win column. The Force had dug themselves into a hole by losing this first game; winning next week was essential. But at least his team had played hard; they had scrapped on defense, and if they could tighten up the screws offensively, perhaps the scoring would come in turn? These were thoughts Jed had as he left the stadium; all was not lost after a tough loss, but he wanted to make sure that the losing streak would not extend to 2 games.

TAG: jcgoble3, Rebecca_Daniels

 

IC: Meredith Chambers

273 Season Opener at Vandelhelm


Meredith Chambers charged out of the visitors tunnel at the stadium on Vandelhelm to a chorus of boos, thrown food, and a few other unsightly bodily fluids which she dodged adeptly. She waved at the rowdy Jets fans while quietly thinking to herself how much she hated their guts. The Jets were trash. She couldn’t believe they’d hung around the Elite League as long as they did. At least there was respect and admiration between all three of the Smuggler’s bitter rivals. They may not be exchanging hugs anytime soon but nobody deserved the kind of reception that teams got when they came to play on Vandelhelm.

Maybe they were sore after losing two straight Galactic Cup finals in a row. Sure, Vandelhelm had played a competitive game against Bakura two years ago, a game of catch up, last Chambers checked. But everyone remembered the beat down at Six Boroughs the year before. Vandelhelm, especially Phil Brooks, had been at an absolute loss on how to fight the Smugglers and scored only one point the entire game on a penalty. Now, Meredith had returned in her final season in the Elite League.

The ball was kicked toward the Smuggler side of the field and the game unfolded with the Jets taking advantage of the youth at the Smugglers midfielder position to arc some long shots into the net. By the half the score was Vandelhelm 10, Nar Shaddaa 8. The Smugglers scoring phenom, the Amaran, Vic McTodd, went “McCrazy” on the Jets defense putting up a career record 13 points in a game. Mel Rypen punched in a point above the bar to put the Smugglers up 22-15 by the time the game was winding down to its conclusion.

The Jets crowd had tried to rally with their ridiculous J-E-T-S, Jets, Jets, Jets chant but Meredith knew the game was well out of hand and laughed heartily. Of all the chants in the galaxy, that one just got her blood going for its sheer idiocy. Yeah, she knew the Jets had history with the chant but some things are better left forgotten. Did Phil Brooks try and make a rally late in the second half? You betcha. The Jets star had it in for Chambers as he drove hard toward the goal, hoping to win the game all by himself. He closed the distance to the goal rapidly and then released a quick shot which Meredith failed to deflect. Unfortunately for Brooks, momentum carried him into Chambers who had years of “acting” like she was knocked to the ground and the next thing she knew the referees had pulled the points off the board for Vandelhelm.

Meredith had put on a good show. She lay on the ground, pretending to be stunned, all the while Brooks was nearly having a coronary over an argument with the refs on an illegal hit. Of course, Meredith wasn’t hurt, she was merely doing her part to add insult to injury for a Jets squad that was loathed by all outside of Vandelhelm. Loathed not because they were successful, as the Patriots of yore had been, rather, they were loathed because they were the foulest fans in the galaxy. Believe me, Meredith knew this from experience.

And then the game was over. Meredith got to her feet, blew kisses to the Vandelhelm crowd, and disappeared into the tunnel.

This was her last game in Vandelhelm. She was glad that Phil Brooks was denied the satisfaction of a victory.

One down, six more to go.

Euceron was up next.

Tag: jcgoble3

 

IC: Ayn Dormingale
Great Iziz Field, Iziz, Onderon

The Noble House couldn't have asked for a more exciting opening day game. However, they probably would have preferred a 40-0 blowout if given the choice between that an exciting. Exciting was never-wracking.

"If we still had Inviere instead of Ruunron we'd be crushing them!" Siona complained bitterly, "The middle of the field is wide open! He learned nothing on Ord Mantell. Nothing!"

"Thank the Force the Wiz is picking up some of the slack," Regan pointed out, "Not to mention T.K."

"T.K. picking up the slack, who would have ever thought he could have ever been a team player," Ronan said.

"Didn't I hear that he's been working with Dr. Calay?" Mandy asked, "She might have helped him realize there are 14 other players on the field."

"She certainly helped Glencross realize that she's not the only person on the field," Dorian Lynd said, "and we won the Cup. If she can do something similar with T.K. then we might just win another if we get lucky."

"Well we're not going to win if we keep surrendering bar points to the Crazy Dragons at will!" Oisin said with frustration, "The zone defense just isn't working!"

"I beg to differ," Ayn said, deciding to risk a contrary opinion, "It's containing the Dragons. We're bending, but not breaking."

"Valerii's got them too scared to give up big plays and as a result they're just picking us apart bit by bit. They keep this up and we're going to--oh FRAK!" Oisin yelled.

His outburst was in response to a Crazy Dragon goal, a beautiful one at that. It had handcuffed Jorpik, who had gone left when the ball went right. The score, late in the second half, was 25-23 in favor of the Crazy Dragons. The game had seen a lot of lead changes and that was no exaggeration. No team had held the lead for more than five minutes at a time, if that. Bakura had been relying on lots of goals as they'd worked their front three hard. As usual, Rodders was leading the way. However, every time they'd pull ahead the Crazy Dragons would take over possession and hammer away with long shot over the bar after long shot. It was deflating to say the least.

Ayn looked at the clock. There were two minutes left. Plenty of time for anything to happen. The Miners could go ahead with a goal or they could hit two points over the bar for overtime. She leaned forward in her seat. If ever there was a critical moment to a game, this would be it. She was unsurprised when Valerii called her final timeout and huddled her team together.

"What do you think, stack the box?" Ayn asked Declan, referring to Valerii's now-famous last ditch tactic to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat by putting all 15 of her players in the offensive zone.

"Two minutes is a long time. Way too much can happen," Declan said, "She's probably got a set play she wants to find the open player and hammer it in from there."

"I think Onderon's going to try to keep it on the periphery, shut down Rodders," Ayn said, "He's been the best player today, hands down."

"Landa's been neutralized today by Leed," Kerry said from two seats over, "But I think Alesh and Morlan have some room."

"Andersen's got the experience in clutch games. Two Cups for her, she knows how to score in the big games," Regan said.

"I say she goes to the cycle," Atticus Eldred said from the row behind them.

Ayn turned to look at the attorney, who was calmly relaxing in his chair. "The cycle?"

"It's Valerii's signature move. She uses it sparingly in select situations. Nobody's beaten the cycle yet."

"You beat the cycle with zone, dear," his wife said.

"In theory. But nobody's shut it down yet. Not even with an MVP like Leed," Atticus said.

Ayn returned her attention to the field where the Miners' huddle was breaking up into a standard 15 person formation. Jorpik put the ball back into play and got it all the way up to midfield where North made a clean reception before he turned up the field and kicked the ball deep on his own side of the field to Alesh. The Baby Eopie took the ball and made a short pass up to Andersen. The Hapan drove towards the net, Rem Krath on her like snow on a tauntaun. Andersen was about to hit the brick wall of Selma Demayne when she bounced the ball behind her, through her own legs, and to Rodders, who had shifted to the Right Corner Forward position and was open--but with a low percentage angle. He turned back towards the net, set his feet, and used his strong throwing arm to go cross field all the way over to Nanchecka Stormborn, who had stepped away from Kel Dirth and had some room, but once again no angle.

Dormingale was looking right--the Crazy Dragons were giving the outside of the field but were locking down the middle. Stormborn passed to her right back down the field to Becki Morlan, drawing attention from Dirth and Jenna Leed, who converged towards Morlan as she drove towards the center of the field and the waiting knot of Crazy Dragons. With three Dragons just a step from her, Morlan jumped and turned in air to pass to her left and to a waiting, cycled Stormborn who didn't hesitate to header the ball back and to the high, high slot where Alana Glencross had sped up the field for an extra attacker. Glencross grabbed the ball in full stride and spun it out in front of her by three feet so she could unleash a long kick. Down low, Rodders and Andersen set a screen in front of the net, blocking the Dragons' goalkeeper Pamjer's line of sight. He never saw Alana's cross shot to the left corner of the net.

The Noble House jumped out of their seats in celebration as Glencross pumped a fist in the middle of the field and the buzzer sounded. Ayn screamed in delight, oblivious to the screams of disbelief coming from the Onderon fans in the stadium and received a high five from Declan and they clasped each other's hand once they came together. The celebration was universal for the collective owners of the Miners and Ayn was a part of it. She got an excited hug from Ginnifer Lynd, high fives from Regan and Siona, and smiles all around, including from the Chancellor. In fact, Kerry Trieste was quite happy.

"Serves them right!" Kerry said as she shook hands with Atticus, "Alana Glencross puts up a career year, best point differential in the League, and Jenna Leed has the temerity to win the Salbukk. She'll think twice about that this season."

The Noble House did not linger too long after the game. This game was in the books (and by the end of the day it would turn out that their Solo Conference opponents had all pulled out wins, meaning that no team in either conference had a leg on each other in the playoff hunt) and there was much to be done in the coming week. But next week the Noble House would be in Salis D'aar in nearly full force. It would be a home game and against a team that the Miners had not seen for some time.

"So excited for next week?" Ayn asked Declan as they rode the lift down.

"Naturally. I always love a game at Bakura Gardens," he said.

"Don't pretend. You want to see those Ralltiir cheerleaders," Ayn said casually.

"It's certainly a novel concept," Declan said with the hint of a smile.

"Novel," Ayn said with a wry smile, "Of course. And here I thought you were going to say titillating."

TAG: Runjedirun Teegirloo

 

GM Post

One day after the conclusion of the Monarchs/Starkillers game, Setarcos Rhemes received the following private message via the Holonet.

Dear Client 24601,

It is with great delight that I rekindle our correspondence. Please know that your balance of 1 million credits was in very capable hands in the time since last we spoke. I would like to congratulate you on successfully predicting the Solo Conference's complete domination of the opening day games in the Elite League. We record the following credits to your account:

Rydonni Prime/Ralltiir: 100,000 credits
Nar Shaddaa/Vandelhelm: 75,000 credits
Bakura/Onderon: 75,000 credits
Coruscant/Ryloth: 75,000 credits
Mando'ade/Euceron: 75,000 credits
Chandrila/Ylesia: 50,000 credits

This brings your current balance to 1,450,000 credits. We look forward to your continued good fortune.

Sincerely,

Bennett Halverson
Executive Director
Rossum Bookmakers

TAG: CPL_Macja

 

IC: Lucie Vigo


Lucie hated to see the stadium begin to empty before the game was over. It meant the Starkillers were losing. The game had started out on an upbeat note as all season openers do, but the Monarchs took an early lead and the Starkillers never came within more than a 7 point deficit. The final score of 31 -16 was a disappointment for fans and players. Lucie took her job seriously and cheered until the last play.

She didn’t leave the stadium with the despair the fans displayed. She was looking towards the future now. The immediate future the game next week in Bakura and the distant future the one she was preparing for by taking classes at the University. She rushed home to finish reading her assigned chapters for the Dance History class she was currently enrolled in. Once that was complete she went through some music selections for next week’s routines in Bakura.

Her only stumbling block came later in the week when she found the whole field in use by the Starkillers, even during the late hour agreed upon time slot for her dance squad. It became obvious to Lucie that if the team was going to practice on something that resembled the turf on most Limmie teams they would have to find somewhere else to hold these practices. Luckily she knew plenty of fields in the city park she often ran through in the early mornings were open for use and empty in the morning hours. She could see the protests in some of their eyes when Lucie announced the early hour she wanted everyone to congregate in the park for said practice, but she knew that they also wanted to be Starkiller dancers bad enough to show up.

Sure enough early the next morning everyone on the squad was on time. Many toted large cups of caf, but all were on time. The one oversight Lucie had made was the crowd of onlookers that gathered to watch as the practice took place. She wondered how many commuters were going to be late because they had stopped to watch. Of course, it was no concern of hers, in fact having an audience made her dance team perform a nearly flawless rehearsal. Before they had even finished Lucie decided that it didn’t matter if the field at the stadium was free for the dance team’s use or not. At least once week rehearsals would be held in the park.

TAG: Trieste

 

IC: Ayn Dormginale
Salis D'aar, Bakura


(Start at 0:41 for best results)

"Just pull over here," Ayn ordered the air taxi driver in frustration. The airspace leading to Bakura Gardens was congested beyond belief. She'd never traveled to the Gardens by air before having always taken the Salis D'aar monorail from the UBSD campus for Golden Bear games as well as Miner games. Naively she had assumed it was a simple thing to get to the stadium by speeder. Next time she was definitely hitching the monorail from her hotel.

It would be a bit of a walk from where she'd gotten out and paid the driver, but it wasn't a total loss. The walk from the monorail station hadn't been too much shorter than this and it would allow Ayn to experience game day for so many fans. The pubs, bars, and restaurants were full with the early crowd who wanted to get in a decent meal before the game rather than eat inside the stadium. The prices weren't much better on game day, but the food was considerably better in Ayn's opinion. After the Miner's thrilling win last week on Onderon, the fans were in high spirits for the home opener.

Ayn strode down the wide pedestrian avenues leading towards the Garden in a blue dress that showed off her waist in a pair of tasteful heels that clacked across the clean permacrete. It was a moderately warm day in the Bakuran capital today so it was comfortable in bare calves and arms today. Ayn felt the eyes of male Miner fans on her as she headed towards the stadium and her mouth turned up into a wry smile with the knowledge. She knew they were objectifying her, desiring her. Though she hadn't the least interest in any of them with luck Declan might think similarly when he saw her. She'd had to tread a fine line as she chose her wardrobe for the day. Go too suggestive and the elder members of the Noble House might think her a tramp. Dress too demurely and she wouldn't catch Declan's eye. Ayn was confident that she had struck a happy medium.

The large holographic banner that stretched across the facade of the Gardens facing the plaza Ayn was crossing cycled through images of Miner players in moments of athletic prowess or triumph. The most striking image was from last season's Black and Blue Battle. It was Alana Glencross running holding a pole with a Bakuran flag streaming behind her head. The image was accompanied by strong white capital letters that proclaimed, "CARRY THE BANNER."

"Shouldn't be too hard after last week," Ayn remarked to herself as headed around the perimeter of the stadium for the club level lifts.

After all, she'd been carrying a torch for Declan for two years. What would a banner be on top of that?

---

The owner's box at Bakura Gardens was, without question, the best seats in the level of luxury suites at Bakura Gardens. It was better than the one reserved for the Prime Minister, which was located exactly opposite. Today it was fuller than it had been on Onderon. For starters, Admiral Westenra was there, though not her daughter Sierra who was now on Brentaal for college. More of Declan's cousins were in attendance as well. In fact, the only beings missing were Nessa Trieste and her children. Just as she had taken them to Ylesia for the Patriots' 23-2 drubbing of the Lightning, so she had also headed out to Chandrila for the triumphant return of Elite League Limmie to Stoney End Park, perhaps the most historic and fabled venue in the entire Elite League. It was fitting that the defending Galactic Cup champions would be the inaugural opponents for the Patriots.

However, there was one new presence that Ayn couldn't help but feel was more significant than all the others: Falene Trieste.

Due to her own responsibilities as a member (and now, as a Senior, captain) of the PCNS Rangers, Falene was not able to join the Noble House for road games due to the fact that the Bak10 often played its games the day before. Declan's younger sister with her champion status was now a minor celebrity even within the Noble House and its famous members.

"How'd things go against Atalanta yesterday?" Ayn asked Falene.

"Smashing," Falene said.

"She means that literally," Declan said, "As in she blew one of their half forwards across the field with a hit yesterday."

"He's exaggerating," Falene said.

"I'm not sure the guy will ever walk again," Declan continued.

"He did, two seconds after it happened," Falene continued.

"He's barely clinging to life."

"I shook his hand after the game. He's fine."

"Sounds like you'd better get your lawyers on the case," Ayn said, "He'll probably try to take you for everything you're worth after injuries like that."

"Aunt Regan, you're going to have to defend Falene against murder chargers! Manslaughter at least!" Declan called.

"Will everyone stop asking me to be their attorney? I'm a Supreme Court Justice for Force sake!" Regan yelled back, though not without a smile.

"So you've returned your bar membership then?" Fiona asked with a raised eyebrow.

Regan dismissed her elder sister with a wave of her hand. "Get Fleetfire to defend you Falene."

"I thought we used Crane Poole & Schmidt for Noble House business?" Mandy asked.

"Not for limmie. Fleetfire Zarmer's worth every credit we spend on them and let me assure you it's quite a bit," Kerry said good naturedly, "If Sydney Talon wasn't working for us I'd have him deported to the Unknown Regions for being such a scoundrel."

"It's what Dad always said about Mom," Siona said, "If she's on your team you swear by her; if she's on the other team you swear at her."

"Speaking of which," Ayn said, recognizing an opportune moment when one presented itself, "Last week on Onderon we were talking about how Fionn Trieste got the Miners running again. Considering the team had gone into bankruptcy and he and Aine didn't know how to run a team, that must have been no small task."

"That's putting it lightly," Kerry Trieste said as she sat down with a drink at one of the tables in the box that were laid out for lunch, "All they had when they bought the team out of bankruptcy was the rights to the Miners name and a theoretical organization."

"So basically nothing," Ayn said, taking a seat at the Chancellor's table.

"Nothing except an idea of starting a team," Ronan said from his seat behind Ayn at another table, "and one name..."

---

209 ABY
Denon

Comran Kint sighed as he poured himself another drink. It had been a rough day for his Denon Demons offense. A very rough day. He didn’t need to turn on the Holonet to know that the media was excoriating him. After all, he was the offensive coordinator they’d brought in this season to fix a terrible Demon offense. Unfortunately he didn't seem to be helping much.

“It’d be nice if the owners were willing to invest in some talent so I had something to work with,” he said to no one in particular. But this at least he had a job. That’s more than he could have said this time last year.

That was when her heard his doorbell ring. With a sigh, Comran left his drink untouched and went to get the door. That was probably his Nemoidian takeout arriving.

“Good evening Mr. Kint. I’m Aine Trieste and this is my cousin Fionn,” the human female at the door said, “May we come in?”

Comran blinked at them. “Have we met?”

“No, but we’d like to change that,” Fionn said.

“Forgive me, but it’s been a bit of a rough day. Could you come back tomorrow?” Comran asked, already moving his hand towards the door control.

“Mr. Kint, it’s our understanding you used to be the head coach of the Miners. That you took them to back-to-back Galactic Cup Finals against the Herders in five years ago,” Fionn said.

“Yes, that’s me. The trivia question answer for the whole galaxy: who screwed up and became the only coach to lose back-to-back Finals to the same team,” Comran said, “Thank you for allowing me to remember. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“Mr. Kint,” Aine said, sticking her hand against the door before it slid shut, “We’d like to offer you your old job back.”

“You see, we’re the new owners of the Miners,” Fionn said, “And we need a head coach.”

“We thought you might be interested,” Aine said.

“Seeing as your current employers are going to be firing you at the end of this season,” Fionn said.

“Who told you that?” Comran asked.

“They did, when we asked for permission to interview you,” Aine replied, “So may we come in?”

“I think I’m having a change of heart about that,” Comran said, stepping aside, “Please, come in.”

---

“So you’re telling me you want to run an all-road schedule? Will the League even allow it?” Comran asked once he’d heard the Triestes out.

“Yes. We’ve looked into venues, but everywhere is booked for 210,” Fionn said, “The Board of Governors loves it because it means that half of them are getting an extra home game.”

“And the Elite League will take us back?” Comran asked.

“It’s good publicity for them,” Aine said.

“But with no home games, how are you going to fund the team?” Comran asked.

“We’re prepared to make the initial outlay. The Board of Governors has ratified revenue sharing as a concession to the all-road schedule for Miner games,” Fionn said.

Comran sat back and thought. “That’s the finances, what about management. Do you have a GM?”

“We were thinking you could do it,” Fionn said.

Kint shook his head. “I’m a coach, not a GM.”

“And we’ve never owned a limmie team,” Aine said, “We’re going to run on a shoe string here so it’s not going to be a big responsibility. Do it just for 210 and we’ll reevaluate in 211. We just need someone as GM who knows players. You do.”

“Let me guess—you don’t have players either,” Comran said.

“All the contracts were voided by bankruptcy court,” Aine said, “This is ground up, Mr. Kint.”

“But the good news is that the Bak10 produced a lot of talent that went off world before the Sith invasion. A lot of good talent, we’re told,” Fionn said, “I think we can get enough of them who would come back for patriotic reasons to make a team.”

“We could…” Comran admitted, “They’re not going to be superstars, not with the salary budget you’ve laid out…but playing for the Miners is the dream of every kid in the Bak10…” The wheels in his head were beginning to turn.

Aine and Fionn shared a look. They knew they had a coach.

---

210 ABY
Alliance Stadium, Commenor

From the owner’s box, Fionn and Jane Trieste leaned forward. The pirate had traded her outlandish garb for more understated professional garb. As wife of the minority owner of the Miners she needed to be more respectable.

“The things I do for love,” she’d sighed to Fionn on their way to the first Miners game on Mon Calamari. She was missing her hat quite a bit.

It had been an up-and-down season for the Miners. They’d made the playoffs at 4-3 and secured a fourth seed that they had now ridden all the way to the Galactic Cup Final on Commenor in the most unlikely fashion.

Comran Kint’s team had been a bunch of second-string players by everyone’s estimation and almost exclusively Bakuran. Kint had imposed a system on the Miners to compensate for their lack of talent and it had served them well. Now the Miners were on the largest stage in galactic sports, representing a planet that everyone had given up for dead. They had been given no shot in this game against the highly favored Corellia Rebels, a team that the Miners had already lost to this season. They were hanging in there in the second half though, down by 5.

“The Rebels have Kint’s system beat,” Jane observed.

“The Rebels destroyed most of the League this season,” Aine retorted, “The fact we’re down by two goals is impressive.” In the span of a season the former Galactic Senator had proven a quick learner in the sport of limmie.

“Pyrrhic victory Aine,” Jane replied.

“There’s still ten minutes left,” Fionn said, trying to mediate between the pair.

But it wasn’t enough. The Rebels held off a last Miner push for victory and the five points turned out to be their margin of victory. The Five Worlders were celebrating wildly as the Miners had to face coming just shy of the great prize.

And yet, Fionn Trieste knew they’d still won. Once the congratulatory handshake line was finished and the Miners began to wearily trudge back to the locker room, Alliance Stadium rose in applause. The Miners, who had built up their fanbase among expatriot Bakurans and everyone who loved a good underdog, had vastly fewer fans than the Rebels had brought to the game and the noise could not have come solely from the Miner partisans. It came from the Rebel fans too. Sure, they had lots to be happy about—their team had just won—but they had to respect this team that had defied the odds and come so far.

It was minutes later in the locker room that the dejected Miner athletes received three visitors. Though they were weary from having just played, and lost, the biggest game in most of their careers, they all stood out of respect.

“We’re proud of you,” Fionn Trieste told the team, “Every one of you. Today, the galaxy saw that Bakura hasn’t given up. You gave your fellow Bakurans something to believe in. You showed the Sith that they haven’t won, that as long as there are Bakurans alive in this galaxy that they’ll never win. And if you think that this is just a game…well, then you don’t understand what you just gave them out there.”

“See you at training camp,” Aine said, “We’ve got unfinished business to attend to. We fell short today, but this isn’t the last of the Bakura Miners.”

---

"...and that is why the 210 Miners hold a special place in the annals of Miner history," Kerry said.

"Never mind the fact that it was the Noble House who brought Miners limmie back in such dramatic fashion as to go to the Final on an all-road schedule," Regan said, "That's got nothing to do with it."

"Nothing at all," Ayn said with a smile as she dabbed her mouth with her napkin, lunch complete.

"Now, who wants another drink?" Siona offered, "I think we've got just enough time before the pregame starts."

"That's where you're wrong," Fiona told her twin, "There's never just enough time for a drink in this box--there's always enough time."

"Then count me in," Ayn said.

"Cillian! What are you doing over there?" Ginnifer chided her brother, who was nearly hanging out of the box with his cousin Quentin Eldred. Both of them had macrobinoculars glued to their eyes.

"Quiet! We're concentrating!" Cillian said.

Ayn stood and walked to the front of the box to look for herself. It didn't take long to find the answer.

"It's nothing. They're boys being boys," Ayn reassured the Triestes as she resumed her seat.

"Well, what are they looking at?" Mandy asked.

"The Ralltiir cheerleaders."

Antrose Trieste jumped out of his seat with every intention of seeing this wonder of the galaxy for himself, but his mother caught him before he could get far. "I am not having you dangle over the edge of this box a hundred feet in the air, mister," Mandy told her son.

"Well I'm having a look," Kerry Trieste declared to the surprise of everyone else. She stood and went to the front of the box. "Gimme," she told Cillian, who dutifully surrendered his macrobinoculars--though not without a sour pout. Kerry put them to her eyes and gazed down. "Well I'll be...they're not half bad. Not half bad at all. I wonder..."

"Wonder what?" Siona said.

"If we should get some ourselves," Kerry said casually as she handed the macrobinoculars back to Cillian Lynd.

"You can't be serious," Siona said, aghast.

"I just might be," Kerry said.

Ayn had to fight to keep a smile off her face. She was positive the Chancellor was joking, just to see how everyone else would react--and frankly she loved it. Though she had to say that she was pretty sure that Ralltiir was ahead of the curve on this one. And bringing them to road games too. That was certainly a way to expand the fanbase. Ayn Dormingale had more than a little respect for the Starkillers.

Though not so much respect that she wanted them to win. But hey, if they wanted to look good and lose she was all for it.

TAG: Runjedirun

 

IC: Meredith Chambers

Nar Shaddaa Smugglers Practice Facility, New Vertica, Nar Shaddaa

This was her last year.

The young pups hungry for blood knew it and were quietly licking their chops in anticipation of nabbing arguably one of the most important positions on the Limmie pitch: goalkeeper. Everyone wanted to replace the great Meredith Chambers. But there could never be another Chambers. There could only be a long shadow that anyone who stepped into the net long after she retired would have to emerge from and play their very best game. Even then, everyone knew their best game wouldn’t match hers. Not by a
long shot.

Meredith stared at the two young goal keepers, Roz Cartel drafted this year and Quillan Sands who was taken last year in case her knee-injury flared up again during that mediocre season. Both were rough around the edges but seemed with a little more experience under their built quite capable of being solid starters. They would make their own journey to the line, one of these days. They would experience the heights of victory and the lows of defeat. They would carry their team in trying times and be carried during times of great success. But she was looking too far ahead on that one. The end of her own Limmie career was looming fast. Too fast.

“Each one of you will have to defend five shots from the Smugglers starting offensive lineup. Know that you are inexperienced. You will be beaten. You will be angry. Learn from your mistakes. Only through learning can you truly become great,” Chambers said.

She motioned for Roz to start the first series. Roz entered the goal, got set in her stance, and waited. Meredith looked toward Vic McTodd, Mel Rypen, Kellie Dupont, Rajah Rollko, and Helena Forsythe. They were ready. With a bit of a sardonic smile, Meredith blew a whistle. The offensive onslaught begin as the Limmie ball was passed back and forth from Forsythe to Rollko and on to Dupont who put it above the bar, well out of reach of Roz’s fingers.
Rollko had another ball now, kicked in to her from the sidelines. She put a bit of spin on it as she aimed for a corner shot under the bar. Roz deflected the shot which went high back into the air, out of bounds. Forsythe made a feint on the next set and adeptly flicked it over to Rypen who sent a heater down the center stretch, nearly popping Roz’s head off. The ball smacked Roz in the face, knocked the goalie to the ground, and rolled into the net.

Over and over and over again this process was repeated in all the interchangeable ways that shots could come at these young goalies from the professional players around the league. At the end of practice, Meredith brought them to her. They were tired, bruised, egos crushed, faces fallen.

“You never told us there would be five of them on the field shooting at us!” Roz complained.

“In the real game, we’d have defenders down there to help us out!” Sands moaned.

Meredith merely smiled and replied, “That was the real game, kids. At times, you are all alone down there in front of the net with only the enemy breathing down your neck. You will have to learn how to track the opposing offense and always remember where the ball is, always! Watch for fakes. Watch for the sleight of hand. That will get you every time. Do not get tunnel vision. Be aware.”

“How did you play so long in this league?” Roz asked.

“Kid, I ask myself that question every day,” Meredith replied.

“You ready for the game against the Storm?” Sands inquired.

“Don’t ask me if I’m ready. You should really be asking yourself. What if I go down? What if I’m injured? One of you may have to step in for me. Could you do that? Would have you have the strength to do that? Ask yourself that,” Meredith responded as she led them off the field in the direction of the locker room.

Though she didn’t tell them, she both felt that they had done really well. Truth was, that sort of training scenario was rarely encountered. But Meredith had encountered it a few times. These young kids had to be prepared, for anything and everything.

Yes, a Storm was coming to Six Boroughs in a few days.

She thought she felt a pain in her knee as she headed off the practice field. But that couldn’t be right. Her knee was fine. Had been for awhile now but as she entered the dark tunnel. She realized what had troubled her. She had nearly been forced into early retirement two years ago when the Smugglers played on Euceron.

She could still remember the cold, remember the pain, even remember how silent the stadium had gotten as she lay crumpled on the hard ground. Yeah, even the Storm knew that something was wrong.

Meredith pushed the thoughts out of her mind. This time it would be different. This time the Storm were coming to Nar Shaddaa. And what a pleasant reunion it would be.

Tag: jcgoble3

 

IC: Beskaryc Taab
MandalMotors Hall, Manda'yaim

Taab had never been a part of the selection process for a new Mand'alor, and it was dragging out far longer then he would have thought. Mandalorians were a decisive people by nature, but getting all of them to agree on this was like trying to herd dire-cats. At least manda'yaim was at peace, Taab hoped that in a crisis things would go much more quickly. Last week had been devoted to speeches, both of nomination and of accepting those nominations. Taab had of course been nominated for the role, as had many others, but he was not a man for great speeches. His curt "I accept." was laughed at by some in the hall, most had used the opportunity to regale the Hall of their qualifications. In retrospect perhaps Taab should have done so as well, though at least those who had laughed seemed to appreciate his brevity.

He took a glass off the table at the rear of the hall and began to sip its contents. The tihaar burned his throat as it went down, it was good tihaar. The food and drink at the end of the table was intended for all, after choosing new leadership was work that could make one hungry, but it was expected that no one would imbibe too much. So far that expectation had been met. He turned and looked forward, where Rey'nar Vizsla stood, a cluster of supporters around him. Taab shook his head and downed the rest of his drink as a quiet, but authoritative voice whispered behind him.

"His fortunes rise and fall with your own."

Taab turned around to see the form of Dral Ordo, the presumptive front runner to become the next mand'alor. He knew that Ordo spoke the truth, Rey'nar was Mercs head coach Adenn Vizsla's older brother, and as the head coach gained prestige though victory, so too did his brother. Ordo continued on. "His family name is better known than yours as well, but that has it's own pitfalls." Taab could only nod in agreement. His own family name brought up images of strength and duty to any Mandalorians that knew it, but it lacked the panache and the touch of destiny that other's names provided. His clan name was no Vizsla, or Ordo, it had never altered the course of the Mando'ade before.

"He will need to be taken out in the first vote if you are to have any chance." Taab raised an eyebrow at that. Why was Ordo helping him, what would it gain him? Ordo saw the reaction and laughed quietly. "Yes, it would help me as well, his name is one of the few that rivals my own." Taab mulled that over, both he and Ordo knew this would be a temporary alliance at best, in the end there could be only one.

"Very well, you have my support...what did you have in mind?" Ordo layed out his plan, it was simple in nature and would ensure that Vizsla dropped out after the first round of voting. Taab once again nodded his assent. "You have a keen eye for politics." Ordo clapped his hand on Taab's shoulder plate at that and let out a belly laugh that echoed through the hall, drawing everyone's attention to the pair. "I hate politics Taab, I have no stomach for it as you seem to." The comment was sure to gain Ordo "points" among many of those assembled, most Mandalorians despised politics. "I would far prefer we threw the two strongest candidates into a battle circle and let that determine our leader." Taab glanced around and saw many nodding their heads, Ordo had indeed increased his early lead with that little show. Even Vizsla was grinning. Taab for his part could only mutter under his breath, so only Ordo could hear. "Be careful what you wish for."

---

IC: Jaya "barefoot" Tam
visitor's locker room, Euceron.

Tam sat dejectedly in front of her locker. She had travelled with the team and been allowed to sit on the sidelines during their victory against the Storm. But she hadn't been allowed to dress. So now she sat in front of "her" locker with nothing to do. She suspected that this was all to show her just what she was missing out on. The offensive unit was in a congratulatory mood, 31 points was a good output, especially against a Storm team that usually started out strong. But she had been left out of that, Coach Vizsla had instead juggled his reserves to cover for her missing presence.

In fact the entire team shunned her, from the coaching staff on down through the players and the locker room attendants. She was a pariah on her own team, and all for holding fast to her own beliefs. The silence towards her was broken though as the team prepared to board the team bus to the spaceport. "Better watch out meat," came from one of the clones, Fi she thought. "Broussard put up 10 points against the aiwha-bait."

Jaya's eyes grew wide at the mention of that. If Broussard kept putting up point totals like that she might get called up to replace her. Jaya was sure she was a better player then the human woman, but she couldn't be made to play while covering her feet. She didn't know what she would do, she felt her dream of playing in the ELL slipping away from her. Maybe she could demand a trade, though she didn't have much bargaining leverage. She would wait one more week, and see how the Ylesian team played. She had heard much about them, and was sure that team would respect her wishes. If she liked what she saw from them she, would demand her trade to that team.

---

Holoscreens across the Galaxy

"This is HNN," came through to anyone watching the broadcast as coverage returned to their reporters on the scene outside MandalMotors Hall. They were there from all the networks, as they all tried to garner ratings and get the story first. In their business first counted for a lot, sometimes it even counted for more than accuracy in reporting. But this story would be straight forward, at least for now. HNN along with the other networks and been speculating ever since the Mand'alor's announcemnt on who his successor might be, now they might get their first clue.

The image settled in on a well coiffed Bothan, "Rumors are starting to circulate here that voting could commence at any moment, we won't know of course until we see that white smoke coming from the small chimney you can see in the distance over my shoulder. That white smoke would indicate a successful election of a new Mand'alor, black smoke would indicate that a majority was not re..."

A stirring off camera distracted the broadcaster, excitement and a few gasps followed by some barely audible groaning. The Bothan raised his furred hand to his ear as though someone was speaking through the near invisible earpiece there. "OK...OK we are getting word that smoke can be seen from that chimney."

The holo-camera zoomed in on the chimney, wisps of dark black smoke could be seen rising from it. "Yes, there! As you can all see there is black smoke rising from the chimney at MandalMotors Hall indicating that a vote has occurred and it wasn't conclusive. We have no idea who the may have been at the head of the vote, but we can say that traditionally those with little support on the first ballot tend to drop out of the running fairly quickly." The image on screen continued to show the black smoke rising, the words "NO MAND'ALOR YET" scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

"So for our viewers at home, and for the millions of Mandalorians here and spread across the Galaxy, there is no manda'alor as yet, we will have to wait until their next vote, and we don't know just when that will be."

TAG: No one.

OOC: Yes I am basing some of this on real world events. No it is not how the Mandalorians have chosen a Mand'alor in any of the EU material, but this game takes place far in the future of most of that and so I thought some changes might have occurred which would allow me some artistic license.

 

IC: Phil Brooks - Vandelhelm Jets

It was a new season, a new beginning, and for Phil was hoping for a new life to be breathed into the Jets.

As the Jets ran onto the field, the energy was different, but rang of the intensity that Phil tried to carry along. Alas, it was no use, the Jets fell in the opener, much to the despair of Brooks, who immediately after the final seconds ripped off his jersey and threw it down in a rage. In the locker room he sent all kinds of objects crashing around. He was making it clear he was not happy.

"This is ridiculous! We're better than this! I'm better than this! all we do is lose and lose and lose now. We were champions, finals frequenters, now a laughing stock! I am sick and tired of this. I am sick and tired of all of us hanging our heads in shame as we march around off the field. We need to go harder!" He said as he slung a jug down into the floor, then storemed out of the locker room half dressed.

The following practices were quiet, and awkwardly so. Few people spoke, and Brooks slammed many on the practice field he felt were "slacking." He hit some of the practice squad players so hard on top of knocking them out of practice, he was sat down by the coach. The "cool your head" comments fell on deaf ears as Brooks demeanor and expressions showed a rage both driven and focused, while housing a reckless and unrefined nature. Anything you said to him would likely had been for naught. Words did not go into one ear and out the other, rather they did not go into any ears at all. After a few attempts, it was decided to just let him sit there and stew. Sending him home might enrage him even more, and putting him back in might mean Vandelhelm would have to forfeit next game due to lack of healthy players, on top of crippling any hope of free agents signing and young stars staying.

Regardless of what state of mind Brooks and the rest of the Jets were in for game against the Monarchs, they were in for a fight on both sides.

TAG: Liam_Vehn CPL_Macja