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

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

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  1. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post
    --Transaction Wire--
    Bakura Miners
    • Receives fifth overall pick in 274 Draft from the Rydonni Prime Monarchs
    Rydonni Prime Monarchs
    • Receives thirteenth overall in 274 Draft pick from Bakura Miners
    • Receives fifteenth overall in 274 Draft pick from Bakura Miners
    • Receives twenty third overall in 274 Draft pick from Bakura Miners
    TAG: @CPL_Macja and @Jedi Gunny for mock draft implications
  2. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

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

    This was it, the Elite League Awards ceremony. Players from all of the member teams, celebrities from all over the galaxy and those who had connections, and hordes of media, were all here tonight. It was the place to be, as tickets for this event were as pricey as could be. It was this kind of atmosphere that Gark found himself in once again as he stepped into the auditorium, that of money, power, and most of all a sport that seemed to transcend all boundaries. This was Limmie at its finest.

    This year was unfamiliar for him, in a way. It felt odd to not be nominated for any awards this year, after piling up the hardware over the previous few seasons. He had left his mark on the Senators franchise in more ways than one, and it certainly had helped the two nominees tonight from his team to get where they were. Now he was just going to be a spectator, getting to see who would win the awards this year instead of worrying if he had his acceptance speech down or if he was in too much pain to reach the podium as had happened last year.

    The whole Senators team was here, having punched their ticket to the Galactic Cup Final in a few days here in Eusebus. Gark joined them with Me’lin at his side as they sat down in the middle of the auditorium, their spots reserved by the organizers (Galin was being babysat tonight so that his parents could focus on the awards). Off to his left were the two award nominees, Polis Vayne, up for the Salbukk, and Pamila Korthe, up for the Langann. Both of them had spared no expense for this ceremony; Polis was wearing the same get-up that he had worn at Gark’s wedding, the black suit, while Pamila had come out in her usual black dress that definitely flaunted her finer features.

    As Gark settled into his seat, he knew that his mind was elsewhere. It resided on the Finals . . . how would the Senators do when they were facing a team they had never matched up against before? He knew his team had quite a few advantages, but this could easily be a trap game, and he didn’t know exactly what could occur out there. The coaching staff would have to be prepared for this one, and never let up until the final horn sounded and a champion was crowned. But now was not a time to worry about that; tonight was going to be special in its own way . . .



    IC: Polis Vayne

    Polis strolled into the club after standing out on the red carpet for several minutes posing for photos and conducting interviews with the media. He was a popular player to begin with, but being nominated once again for the Salbukk had made him an even more attractive target for the media. Either that, or attractive as in handsome, which he noted when seeing signs held by fans saying “Marry me!” and the like. He got a real kick out of those kinds of things, because it meant that the fans cared about the game and its stars. It was like being stuck on a shuttle with Dirxx for 24 hours a day, especially when he didn’t shut up. Some people were just that passionate about the game, or just loved to talk.

    As he looked around the lobby, his eyes first found some of his Senator teammates. Shayt Contar, Dirxx, Shev Fil’yer, and Moen Heatly were lounging around near one of the food lines, yakking it up about something Dirxx had said. Polis knew that he was going to miss that after the Final; for the longest time, he thought that his career would go on forever. However, now that he was at the end, he didn’t know what to do or say. It seemed so foreign to do anything but play Limmie; how would he adjust to retirement? Would it be kind to him, or like a certain former coach of his, would he feel the lure of coming back to the game to some capacity?

    Then he found Meredith Chambers. His eyes met hers from a distance, so all he could do was nod in her direction. He didn’t know if she noticed him in there, but since it looked like there was a glut of celebrities between them, it would probably prove difficult to get over there and strike up a conversation with her. She certainly was beautiful tonight . . .

    Then he felt a hard slap on his shoulder. Dirxx was standing next to him. “What’s up?” the Besalisk asked, his trademark grin on as always.

    “Not much,” Polis admitted. “Just waiting to get this whole thing started, I guess.”

    The ceremony finally started after a while, and Polis found himself sitting at the end of the aisle next to Pam Korthe, who had been his coach this season for the Senators. She was nominated for the Langann, but was up against stiff competition. This wasn’t any different from himself, considering that he was matched up against Aron Rodders, the Miners’ golden boy who had almost single-handedly pushed the Miners to the Commissioner’s Trophy this season.

    The Commissioner finally stepped up to the podium, and everything settled down in the crowd.

    “Gentlebeings, welcome to the 273 Elite League Limmie Awards Ceremony,” Niakara Kayl’hen said to the assembled crowd in the large hall where not even three years ago the first-ever Elite League Draft had taken place, “It is wonderful to be here on Euceron, which is currently the center of athletic activity in the galaxy. Before we go any further, I would like to thank Eusebus for hosting this year’s Awards Ceremony and the Galactic Cup Final and the Euceron Storm for everything they’ve done for this season’s festivities.

    “So, without further ado, let’s get right to the awards,” the Bothan said, “Tonight’s first award recognizes the player with the best season of all rookie players in the league. Our nominees are: Jaya Tam, Mando’ade Mercs; Zoa Vra, Ylesia Lightning; and Ema Zostin, Rydonni Prime Monarchs.” As was usual, applause followed each name and each player was shown on screen.

    “Our winner is: Zoa Vra, Ylesia Lightning in an incredibly close vote.”

    As Vra went up to the podium to accept her prize, Polis thought long and hard. Vra’s Lightning were going to face off against the Senators in a few days, but Polis knew next to nothing about the new Ingbrand winner. That’s the price you paid when you didn’t play a team in the current conference format. Back in the old days of the round robin season, you played everyone, and saw what strengths and weaknesses they had. But now things were going to be a whole lot more difficult.

    “The Grames Award recognizes the best general manager in the Elite League. It is these figures who work all year long to put together a championship team. Our nominees this season went above and beyond the call to do just that,” Kayl’hen said, “They are Setarcos Rhemes of Rydonni Prime, Yore Vext Ten of Vandelhelm, and Aay’han Vhett of Mando’ade.

    “The winner…in a tight vote,” Kayl’hen said, “is Aay’han Vhett of the Mando’ade Mercs.”

    Polis didn’t like the bucketheads one bit, but he had to admit that they had done a good job this season. However, he, like quite a bit of the galaxy, had wondered why Gark hadn’t been nominated for the award, given how the Senators had gone 5-2. It had been theorized that it was due to the lack of personnel changes for the team from 272 to this season; the team was basically the same, except for two injury reserves brought up from Thyferra mid-season.

    “The Zumtak Award is given to the player who best personifies perseverance and dedication to the sport of limmie. This season there were four nominees who were especially deserving of this award. They are Meredith Chambers of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers in recognition of an outstanding thirteen year career; K’ntarr Sports Entertainment Group, owners of the Rydonni Prime Monarchs, for the expansion of limmie throughout the Colonies; the Noble House of Trieste, owners of the Bakura Miners, for fostering limmie on Bakura for over 60 years; and Jaya Tam of the Mando’ade Mercs for perseverance during her rookie season.

    “Our winner is—in a landslide—Meredith Chambers of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers.”

    Polis clapped along with the rest of the auditorium as Meredith claimed her prize. She definitely deserved the award, Polis thought. It got to the point that he would be shocked if Chambers didn’t win an award, given how they seemed to be attracted to her like magnets. That’s what happened when you won three Salbukks, three Cups, and two Numifolis Awards in your career.

    “The Langann Award recognizes the best head coach in the Elite League and all three of our nominees this season took their teams to the playoffs and combined for a record of 14-7 on the season, a .666 winning percentage, in a year where only two out of nine other teams had winning records. I think it’s safe to say it’s a very deserving group,” Kayl’hen remarked.

    “Our nominees are Pamile Korthe of the Coruscant Senators, Gaeriel Valerii of the Bakura Miners, and Adenn Vizsla of the Mando’ade Mercs,” Kayl’hen said.

    Polis looked at Pam, who was staring straight at the podium as the Bothan Commissioner spoke. He knew that she was calculating the odds of her winning in her head. She had been in this position before with the Thyferra Force back in 271, but that year there was little chance of her winning. Her odds probably weren’t much better here, but going 5-2 on the season had to count for something.

    “And our winner…by a large margin…is Gaeriel Valerii.”

    Pam’s expression sagged; she had lost again. Polis didn’t say anything, because it never felt good to lose out on winning an award. He had felt the same way when he had lost out on the Salbukk many years prior. When Valerii’s speech was over, Polis had a sneaking suspicion that his team had just been sucker-punched by her last few comments. This was no place for such petty grievances, he thought. Besides, the Miners had their chance to win the game.

    “The Duchess Eldin Award recognizes players who demonstrate both athletic achievement and sportsmanship in a season. In all honesty, this is one of my favorite awards,” Niakara said, “because I’ve always felt that its nominees represent limmie at its finest. It’s my particular pleasure to honor three players tonight as Duchess Eldin nominees. They are Meredith Chambers, Nar Shaddaa Smugglers; Chenkabuk, Euceron Storm; and Mara Singus, Rydonni Prime Monarchs.

    “And our winner is…in our third landslide of the night, Meredith Chambers.”

    Once again Meredith went up to accept her award, and Polis clapped along with everyone else. Mark up another award for the legendary goalie.

    “And with that we come to our final award of the night, perhaps the most coveted award of the entire evening,” Kayl’hen said, “The Salbukk Award to the Elite League most valuable player. We have three nominees who played truly outstanding seasons, without whom their teams would not have gone as far as they did. They are Argo Mor’kesh of the Mando’ade Mercs, Aron Rodders of the Bakura Miners, and Polis Vayne of the Coruscant Senators.

    “The winner of the 273 Salbukk Award is…in our second shockingly close vote of the evening: Polis Vayne of the Coruscant Senators.”

    Polis sat there, stunned. He had won MVP over Rodders? That was unexpected, to say the least. He walked up to the podium, still in a daze. Holos were taken of him as he accepted the Salbukk Award, the hardware feeling slightly heavy in his arms. Then he was pushed up to the podium to give his acceptance speech. If he wanted to, he could pour a little salt in the wound . . . but that wasn’t his game. He had proven his usefulness out on the field, and had been rewarded for it.

    “Um . . . I really didn’t think I was going to win this award,” he started off. “This is a real honor for me, to win another Salbukk. Being League MVP means a lot to my team, to our fans, and to me. And to take it home a second time, that’s unbelievable. I want to thank my coaches for allowing me this opportunity to take home this award; without their game plans, we wouldn’t have gotten this far this season. Another thank you goes out to our GM, who built this team and kept it running all these years. I want to thank our fans, who have kept coming out to the park to see us play every year, and keep us motivated when we’re down. Lastly, I’d like to thank the game itself. I know it sounds weird, but I’ve had a long relationship with Limmie, and I’m glad I decided to go down this path. Limmie gave me purpose, and I’ll never forget what I’ve accomplished during my career or where it will lead me in the future. Thank you, and see you all at the Final.”

    The Senator team heartily applauded, as did the rest of the auditorium as Polis walked away from the podium, taking the hardware with him. He was then ushered outside, where the media barraged him with questions. This victory felt good; if the Final was lost to the Lightning, at least he had this to fall back on. For Polis Vayne, this victory meant everything.

    After the ceremony had ended, Polis sought out Meredith. He wanted to congratulate her on her victories tonight. It took a while to track her down, given the amount of traffic that was present in the auditorium and lobby. However, he was finally able to catch up to her, the Salbukk Award trying to slow him down as he had to evade some celebrities and media members in tight windows.

    "Congrats on your wins tonight," Polis said. "You deserved those awards, and then some. If you don't mind me commenting, you look stunning tonight, by the way." He wasn't trying to be too forward here, since they had only gone one on small-time date beforehand. It was mostly just a friendly relationship between the two of them for now; perhaps that would change with time, but for now he was just trying to be personable.



    TAG: @Vehn, Anyone
    Last edited by Jedi Gunny, Jun 20, 2013
    Vehn likes this.
  3. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    IC Post
    Bakura Miner team offices, Salis D’aar, Bakura



    [IMG]

    Quinn Cundertol lay on the couch in his office, eyes closed, hands steepled. To the ordinary onlooker, he might have looked like he was sleeping or resting. However, in reality Cundertol was doing some of the most intense work he’d do all day. This wasn’t to say that he took it easy. Rather, it reflected precisely how much was going on when Cundertol stopped to think.

    Tarth, contract expired. Full back vacancy. Waters, contract expiring. Wizmark, contract expiring. Kutel, contract expiring. Ruunron, contract expiring, thank the Force. The entire defense turning over in a year. North, contract expiring. Landa, contract expiring. Andersen, contract expiring. Two corner backs needed, midfielder too as well. Deep draft. Three picks. Twelve defenders declared. Four corner backs. No experience if we use the draft.

    Free agent market. Loayen. Lots of experience. Too old, lost speed. No sale. Luy’kin. Possibility. Worked well with Chambers. Jorpik is no Chambers. File away. Otherwise no corner backs. Keep Tarth—have experience. Size. No speed. Question mark. Slot Zire in full back, more size. Need speed. Speed speed speed. Grap—still on the board? Possibly. Extend Tarth training camp offer sheet, make final determination at Hi’lo.

    Half backs—extend Wizmark. Priority. Ruunron—cut now? No, evaluate at training camp. Showed improvement. Not much. Kutel: played hard ball at last negotiations. Required Talon to handle. Possible resigning. Look for new center half back—no, left half back. Better. Se’o? Personal issues. Risky. Nexrus. Curious. D’jukk. Ranked low because Evenvale was atrocious. Possibly better than HSN gives him credit for. Reach pick, especially for first round. Risky.

    North. Plays well with Glencross. Anyone plays well with Glencross. Shipped Ryder to Hapes. Mistake? No, not up to snuff. Taking up salary room. Rest of league has glutted itself on Midfielders in last three drafts. Hovechar could be on the board by 5. Senators have strong link to CorTech. Draft heavily from there. Pick would make S’rily mad. Worth it for that alone. S’rily drafts last. Can’t do anything unless he trades up. Trading up costly. S’rily has historically traded down, if at all. Picking Hovechar could be worth it for annoyance factor alone. To file. Nayezsh? Community college. Entering draft early. Speaks to talent—or speaks to desire for payday. To file. Careful evaluation of North’s play. Alert Valerii. Ex-midfielder, feels proprietary towards her midfield duo. Get buy in now on potential North replacement if it comes to that.

    Front six. Stable. Andersen—wild card. Hard hits against Coruscant. Twice. Tunross evaluation pending. Landa—entering mid to late 30s. Period of declining returns. Begin thinking replacement. Mo Klaret—highly tempting. Helmsman winner from OSU. Mercs like OSU. I like OSU. I dislike Mercs. I have Mercs pick. Vhett facing rosterpocalypse at end of 274. I pick Klaret with Mercs pick, Vhett fumes, I derive satisfaction. Once again, tempting. No—Vhett has Tam. Vhett will not want Klaret. Disregard. Unless Vhett moves Klaret to wing. Vhett will need both wings. Conversion to wing from center easy transition. Vhett may want Klaret. To file.

    Dutra and Zire to training camp. Fondor was second best offense with Dutra. Dutra ready for Elite League. Would require breaking up front six. Risk. Coruscant figured out offense. Dutra has wild card potential. Split time? Gives Valerii another weapon. More weapons good. Especially when playing Mercs. Note: need Mandalorian contingency plan. Find out how to get one.

    Something brewing at League. Sources clear. Chancellor has been cagey when asked. Something big coming. Opportunity in change. What opportunity?

    Other teams’ roster status. Onderon, Vandelhelm, Chandrila—not in.

    Rydonni Prime. Stable. Deeply drafted. Rhemes collecting more draft picks. Collected three of mine. Always trades out then trades in. High picks this year, but no first rounder.

    Euceron. Very stable. Only one expiring contract, three at the end of the season. Deep development system on Commenor. If only Zargana used it, might win more games. PhD. PhD in what? Curious. Thesis? The Dynamics of an Asteroid perhaps. Will draft well again. Likely target offense. Chenkabuk more than serviceable in net. Long term solution for Storm.

    Ralltiir. Keeps contract details private. Clever Clarke. Could be facing rosterpocalypse or nothing. Usually willing to trade. Likely needs offense. Should consider Su. Su undersized, some risk. McKerty—highly touted. Starkillers have high pick. McKerty fits.

    Smugglers. Cutter wasn’t going to draft. Cutter got fired. Now Smugglers are drafting. No GM in place. Imminent hiring or Vehn plans to draft herself. Wild card. Could waste those high picks if she does it herself. Can’t count on it. Businesswoman. She knows how to delegate. Unless she’s a micromanager. Could be. Tribunes got rid of her for a reason. Precisely what beings who are micromanaged would do if they had the opportunity. Chambers retired—new goalkeeper needed. Two goalkeepers in Draft, value inflated by scarcity. Drafting goalkeeper risky this year, but perhaps necessary. Offense could use a boost too. Will likely look hard at McKerty and Klaret.

    Coruscant. Lots of retirements. Big names. S’rily will tap his development system and be looking to replenish the pipeline. Stuck low. Good.

    Ryloth. Mothker pulling double duty. Hassled head coach in GM slot. Not a good idea. Too many eggs, too many baskets. Contract details not public. Middling team all around. Midfield upgrade could be in order. Watch their interest in Hovechar.

    Three first round picks. Bought at high price. Make them count. Who to pick. Review scouting footage. Data. Always the answer. Data.

    Cundertol did all of this with his eyes closed. He consulted the Holonet not once. It was kept all in his head. Information was neatly filed for later use. It was an efficient system.

    The comm on his desk on the other side of the office pinged. “Quinn, your 10:30 appointment is here.”

    “Ah, yes, the first piece of the puzzle,” Cundertol murmured, eyes still shut. He then yelled, “Send her in Mrs. Hudson!” loudly enough that it would reach outside his office. He couldn’t possibly be bothered with getting off the couch to go to his desk right now. Much too busy.

    A few seconds later the door slid open. “Mr. Cunder—oh! Am I—”

    “Interrupting?” Cundertol interrupted, “No.”

    Falene Trieste hesitated just inside the door, which had slid shut behind her. “You were expecting me…right?”

    “Yes. Quite,” Cundertol said, eyes still closed.

    “So should I…?” Falene asked, clearly attempting to solicit some sort of direction.

    “Wherever,” Cundertol said, waving a hand briefly before returning it to the steeple position.

    Falene Trieste surveyed the room (not that Cundertol could see it). “I think I’ll stand,” she said after a moment.

    Cundertol opened one eye and turned it towards Falene. “Will you?”

    “I will,” she said, leaning against one of his chairs, crossing one leg over the other as she stood.

    Cundertol said nothing and closed his eyes. “I assume that you are going to tell me what the entire galaxy has been waiting to hear.”

    Falene, unseen, rolled her eyes at the melodrama before replying. “I will not be entering the Draft,” she said, “and I would like to sign a contract with you today to become a Miner.”

    “As I expected,” Cundertol said, springing off the couch.

    “Your powers of deduction are astonishing,” Falene said dryly.

    “Ditto your sarcasm,” Cundertol replied without hesitation.

    “Let’s just talk terms,” Falene said.

    Cundertol grabbed a datapad from his cluttered desk and tossed it without looking towards Falene. It caught her offguard and she caught it. “Four years at 900,000 credits. Standard entry level terms, including two way transfers for loans as I see fit. If you want a solicitor to review it, I would recommend using Crane Poole & Schmidt since Fleetfire Zarmer drew it up for me. Conflict of interest,” Cundertol said.

    Falene didn’t look at it. She placed it on Cundertol’s desk. “No deal.”

    Cundertol arched an eyebrow. “You’re the one who wants to sign.”

    “I’m not here to be taken for a ride. Four years at 900,000 is a bargain for the second ranked defender in the 274 rankings. In fact, I’d say dirt cheap,” Falene said, crossing her arms, “1.5 a year.”

    “900,000,” Cundertol reiterated.

    Falene pushed off from the chair to stand up straight. “My cousin plays for Rydonni Prime. I think they’d be interested in getting a highly touted entry level free agent.”

    “Rhemes will give you the same terms. I guarantee it.” And he never would have traded me the fifth overall pick if he thought he might have had a shot at trading up for you.

    “Rhemes will go giddy with the opportunity to stick it to you, to my mother, and to the entire planet of Bakura,” Falene said, “1.5.”

    “And what will you tell your mother when she finds out you’ve decided to ply your trade for someone else?” Cundertol asked, “That’s going to make for a very awkward Yuletide dinner.”

    “Wrong question,” Falene said, “Right question: what are you going to tell her when she finds out I was here and left without a deal?” For once Cundertol didn’t have a quip. “That one’s going to go over very well for someone with an at-will contract.”

    “And it’s going to look so wonderful in the press when it comes out that you left all over credits. I can hear the Holonet now, ‘Boo hoo. Poor little rich girl Falene Trieste wanted more money,’” Cundertol said, his brain having whirred into action in a second, “Oh yes, that will play so well with the public. The Noble House of Trieste with all its money and they still want more.”

    “You know full well that the accountants have set up a firewall between me and the House funds in the event of a League financial investigation,” Falene replied with no small amount of anger, “I’m getting nothing from my mother. I might as well be broke for as long as I play.”

    “That’s your problem, isn’t it?” Cundertol said with a smile. There it is. I have the upper hand now.

    Falene said nothing, but stared into Cundertol’s ice blue eyes. “I knew Mom hired a vornskr, but I didn’t know what it was like to have to work with one until now,” she said, “I wish to revise the terms of my counteroffer.” Cundertol suppressed a smile. Already negotiated her down. Too easy. “1.3 for three years.”

    “Ha!” Cundertol said, walking across the office and turning his back on Falene, “As if I would invest in a highly touted asset, as HSN claims you to be—though the Helmsman voters didn’t see fit to honor you, I might add—for a three year period. My counteroffer, Miss Trieste—” he turned back, “—is 900,000 for four years.”

    Falene cocked an eyebrow. “Says the man who’s been scouting me for three years. Don’t think it went unnoticed. I must say you show your affection in the most peculiar ways.”

    “Let’s get one thing straight,” Cundertol said, “I don’t care whether we do this. If your mother fires me, I will survive. I will not allow your last name to bully me into a bad deal.”

    “And if she fired you, where would you get your next job? Nowhere that’s going to let you build a dynasty, that’s for sure. Nowhere that you’re going to play for the Galactic Cup. And isn’t that what we all want here?” Falene said.

    “The Smugglers are hiring,” Cundertol said.

    “As if they’d hire you.”

    “If you can’t beat them, steal the other guy.”

    “How long are we going to stand here and do this?” Falene asked, “Verbal swordplay is my brother’s forte. I’m pretty sure that’s why he’s growing attached to Ayn. Let’s end this destructive conflict right here and now. We can make that happen.”

    Cundertol sized up Falene. “Fine. I have one question for you. When you answer, I’ll tell you what I’m prepared to do. My question is this: what do you want to be?”

    “A professional limmie player,” Falene said with barely a hesitation, “and, being honest, a Miner.”

    “No,” Cundertol said, crossing the room to stand in front of Falene, “That’s what you want to do, your profession. I want to know who you want to be.”

    Falene looked up at him. “I want to be the fastest, smartest player on the field every single time I step on the field.”

    The look she gave Cundertol was hard. It was not the look of a wilting flower. Seen that look before. Where? He shut his eyes and opened them again. Those eyes. A portrait in the Great House at Kilmainham Brook. Captain Jane Wyvern Trieste. Falene’s grandmother, in pirate regalia. It was the same look. There was something wild that roiled inside Falene Trieste.

    “1.1 million, four years,” Cundertol said shortly.

    “1.25, four years, NTC,” Falene said.

    “The last part was implied. Your mother would bring down the Republican Navy on me if I even suggested trading you. Executing that trade would be a very apt turn of phrase,” Quinn said, “1.2.”

    “1.25.”

    Cundertol stepped away from Falene, pulled a datapad off of another pile and handed it to her. “You’ll find the details in order.”

    “Planning ahead?” Falene said as she flipped through the datapad.

    “Yes,” Cundertol said, sitting down behind his desk as he rummaged through a stack of scouting reports, “If you’d signed the first one I would have kicked you out of here without a second thought. I don’t want a player who’s going to sign the first offer sheet they see.”

    “Nor one who won’t read the whole terms of the contract either, I hope,” Falene said, finally taking a seat in front of the desk.

    “If you didn’t read your contract you wouldn’t be the smartest player on the pitch, now would you?” Cundertol said with the hint of a smile.



    Press briefing room, Bakura Miner team offices, Salis D’aar, Bakura



    “The Miners have always championed limmie on Bakura,” Quinn Cundertol said from the podium at the front of the room, dark blue curtains behind him, “a fact that the Elite League recognized when it honored the Noble House with a nomination for the Zumtak Award for their efforts to that end over the last 60 years. It is why the Miners have maintained a strong relationship with the entire Bak10 Conference throughout its history. We know that young beings across this great planet dream of one day wearing the blue and gold.

    “That dream has not died.

    “The Miners are pleased to announce that the finest talent to graduate from the Bak10 Conference has decided that she wants to ply her trade with the team she grew up watching. Her credentials are impeccable. She is a back-to-back All Bak10 player. She is HSN’s top rated half back for the 274 rookie class. She recently graduated from Prytis College of Natural Sciences with a degree in Astrogeography with an emphasis in Cartography, so if the navcomputer breaks down on the team shuttle we won’t be lost in space. She’s won a Bak10 championship, a Carnation Bowl, and the Galactic College Championship. Oh, and she might have a last name that’s somewhat familiar.

    “Gentlebeings, it is my pleasure to introduce the newest member of the Bakura Miners: Falene Trieste.”

    Falene stepped into the briefing room with a smile and walked to the podium from applause from the media and Miner staffers who were along the sides of the room. At the podium she posed with Cundertol as they held a dark blue Miners jersey between them with TRIESTE in block letters and the number 28 on it for the cameras. When the holos had been taken Cundertol ceded the podium to her.

    “I’m so happy to be a Miner,” Falene said, “This is the team I grew up watching. It’s literally in my blood.” She paused. “I suppose I should talk about that now. I know that I’m going to catch a lot of flak for my last name. It’ll start with opposing teams that are going to go after me. I know from the moment that I step on the pitch I’m going to have a target on my back. I don’t care if it’s fair. That’s life.

    “I realize that there may be some of my teammates who think that I’m here because my last name is Trieste. They’re right. I’m never going to apologize for where I come from or for my family. All I can do is show up to training camp and work as hard as I possibly can and take every day to prove that I belong here.

    “And most importantly, I realize that I will have to prove to the fans that I deserve to play for the Miners. I’ve been a Miners fan my entire life and I know the high standards that they hold for everyone who wears this jersey. Their respect is earned. It’s not a privilege. That’s something I’ll never forget.

    “So that’s who I am and what I’m going to do.” She looked at Cundertol. “So…ummm…questions?” she asked uncertainly.

    If Cundertol objected, he decided to keep it to himself and the media didn’t wait for his approval. They jumped in with their questions without hesitation.

    “Falene, why didn’t you enter the Draft?”

    “Because I didn’t want to be a Smuggler,” Falene said and the room laughed, “No, seriously. I mean, the Smugglers are a great team. Some members of the Noble House hold that team close to their heart. We call them the black and burgundy sheep of the family.” She smiled and there was more laughter. “However, there was no question. I wanted to play for the team I grew up watching.”

    “Is it going to be awkward going into the locker room as the owner’s daughter?”

    “I don’t know. I’ll find out when I get there,” Falene said.

    “The Miners defense was worst in the League last season. How are you going to fix it?”

    “My job is to play as hard as possible and execute the Miners’ system,” Falene said, “You’ll have to ask Coach Valerii what her plan is for next season.”

    “Falene, why number 28?”

    “My Mom wore 14 for UBSD and I thought it’d be nice to go with 28.”

    “So does that you mean you think you’re twice the being your mother is?”

    “No,” Falene laughed, “Just seemed like a god number.”

    “Do you expect to start in 274?”

    “I expect Coach Valerii will tell me if I will,” Falene said.

    “That will be all for today,” Cundertol said, edging Falene out from the podium, “Thanks very much.”

    Falene smiled and waved as she left the briefing room and the cameras snapped even more shots of her. She was going to have to get used to that. She would now be one of the most visible limmie players in the galaxy.

    A new era was dawning.



    Me approved!
    [IMG]


    Name: Falene Trieste
    Species: Human
    Gender: Female
    Birth Year: 251 ABY
    Physical appearance: See above
    Homeworld: Bakura
    Relation to Team: Player
    Brief Biography: Falene Trieste was barely a year old when the Bakura Miners won their first Galactic Cup under her mother. She was eight when they won their next one. This means Falene has committed heresy twice.

    She has touched the Galacitc Cup of Limmie.

    The superstition says that any player who has ever touched the Galactic Cup without winning it will never win it. Though Falene could claim that her touches at a tender age before the thought of professional limmie even entered her mind were appropriate since her family owned the Miners and thus were champions, that excuse falls flat to many ears.

    When Falene entered the Prytis College of Natural Sciences, she joined the practice squad of the Rangers limmie team on a lark having always been a relatively athletic and outdoorsy sort of being. Falene showed aptitude defensively and was moved to reserves. She played her first game in her Sophomore year and declined taking a scholarship given the Noble House’s financial resources so a teammate could have the benefit of the financial assistance.

    In her Junior year as the starting Center Half Back Trieste exploded onto the limmie scene. Her play was integral to the 272 Galactic College Championship that PCNS won, shocking experts around the galaxy. Instantly Trieste became a limmie star from having gone from walk on to galactic champion in the span of two years.

    Though Trieste had been scouted prior to 272, interest in a potential professional career intensified in 273. Due to the Noble House’s ownership, Trieste was widely assumed to decline to enter the 274 Draft and sign an entry-level contract with the Miners, especially given that team’s defensive woes in 273. Falene did exactly that.

    Everyone knows that Falene Trieste is no ordinary limmie player, having already won a galactic championship. Unfortunately, she is now in a locker room where she’s is the owner’s daughter—not to mention a tempting target for every opponent the Miners will face.

    No rookie season is easy. Odds are that Falene’s is going to put a “normal” rookie year to shame.

    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @CPL_Macja @jcgoble3 @Jedi Gunny @JM_1977 @Runjedirun @Vehn since I talked about everyone's team at least a little bit.
    Last edited by Trieste, Jun 20, 2013
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  4. Vehn Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 14, 2009
    star 4
    IC: Meredith Chambers
    273 Awards Ceremony, Eusebus, Euceron

    Meredith stepped out of the limo onto the red carpet and was instantly blinded by hundreds of holocameras. She smiled, waved, even allowed a few fans to take holophotos with her as she radiated confidence, poise, and beauty, happy to be back at the annual awards ceremony.

    Even though her last season didn’t wrap up in a fairy tale ending, she was still happy with the way it turned out. She’d played hard, did her best, and watched as other players, other teams, younger and faster slipped her by, one more signal that her time on the pitch was at hand. Some of those players she would be coaching next year for the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. At least, that was what she had been told by Vincent Cutter who was now on the unemployment line. Of course, like so many things, the experienced coaches of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers would find other jobs, move on to new opportunities, and win additional championships, albeit not on the Elite League level.

    But part of her could not be quiet about the approaching Limmie season. She still hadn’t met the new owner, Kaitlyn Vehn, who rumor had it was a real disciplinarian, a real hardcore student of the game, and was gunning to apply her own brand of Limmie to the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. She still wasn’t sure if she had a job. Promises made by the old regime meant nothing now. To make matters worse, it was rumored that the new owner would also be assuming general manager duties.

    What did an executive from Druckenwell know about running an Elite League team? Absolutely nothing Meredith thought as she entered the lobby. Her sharp eyes caught sight of the Senators contingent. And then she sought out Polis. Finding him, she smiled, waved, but knew better then to bother him before the ceremony. The man had to focus on an upcoming Final appearance. She genuinely hoped he’d walk away with that third ring. Still, it was good seeing him again.

    The ceremony started and as Commissioner Kayl’hen announced awards and nominees, Meredith continued to mull over the change in leadership for the franchise. This was more than job security, this was about tradition, of making sure the Smugglers stayed competitive. If the roster experienced a high amount of turnover, what was she going to do with a bunch of young bloods? Talent could only take someone so far and experience was where the bread and butter were at, so to speak.

    “The Zumtak Award is given to the player who best personifies perseverance and dedication to the sport of limmie. This season there were four nominees who were especially deserving of this award. They are Meredith Chambers of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers in recognition of an outstanding thirteen year career; K’ntarr Sports Entertainment Group, owners of the Rydonni Prime Monarchs, for the expansion of limmie throughout the Colonies; the Noble House of Trieste, owners of the Bakura Miners, for fostering limmie on Bakura for over 60 years; and Jaya Tam of the Mando’ade Mercs for perseverance during her rookie season.

    “Our winner is—in a landslide—Meredith Chambers of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers.”

    Meredith strode onto the stage, waved to the crowd, many of whom were clamoring for a speech.

    “No, no speech tonight, I’ll let me play do the talking. Thank you, everyone, this is truly an honor,” Meredith said as she accepted the award.

    Returning to her seat, the night proceeded swiftly. When the Duchess Eldrin Award was announced, Meredith cringed. She remembered when Alana Glencross had won the award a few years ago. That had been difficult to swallow. She never really liked this award. It was too princess like. Too fluffy, wasn’t really what the league was about, at least, the league that she had once played in as a rookie all those years agol

    “The Duchess Eldin Award recognizes players who demonstrate both athletic achievement and sportsmanship in a season. In all honesty, this is one of my favorite awards,” Niakara said, “because I’ve always felt that its nominees represent limmie at its finest. It’s my particular pleasure to honor three players tonight as Duchess Eldin nominees. They are Meredith Chambers, Nar Shaddaa Smugglers; Chenkabuk, Euceron Storm; and Mara Singus, Rydonni Prime Monarchs.

    “And our winner is…in our third landslide of the night, Meredith Chambers.”

    Okay, correction, winning another award is pretty sweet Meredith thought as she stood once again and accepted the Duchess Eldrin. At least now, when she looked at her trophy case, there would be some variety instead of just the Salbukk or Numifolis. Yeah, that was pretty cool. Waving to the crowd, beaming, Meredith sat back down to finish out the night applauding the other winners who had rightfully made 273 a very special season.

    When Polis accepted the Salbukk Award, Meredith stood, clapping hard, whistling as loud as she could. She whistled so loud that Commissioner Kayl’hen couldn’t even speak and frowned into the audience trying to locate the source of the disturbance.
    Meredith stopped whistling at that point but she hoped her appreciation was felt by the Senator veteran.

    They met after the ceremony, Vayne holding his Salbukk and Meredith loaded up with her two wins.

    "Congrats on your wins tonight," Polis said. "You deserved those awards, and then some. If you don't mind me commenting, you look stunning tonight, by the way."

    “Thanks Polis. You’re looking pretty sharp yourself,” Meredith replied. “I must say, it was a real treat seeing you win the Salbukk again. That trophy case of yours must be getting pretty full. I know mine is at home.”

    Meredith looked at the crowd and then returned her attention to Polis. “Listen, there’s something I want to tell you. I don’t know if I’ll get a chance again with you in the Final. You and I both know how the media loves to hype things up and then when the game is all over swamp you once more.”

    She took a deep breath, briefly closed her eyes, opened them, exhaled, and was ready. “I just wanted to say thank you so much for those flowers when I was in the hospital. That really meant a lot to me. Kept me going strong as the season wound down and I also wanted to let you know that I really enjoyed our time together. I know we don’t see much of each other, you’re busy, I’m busy, but I really want to make some time coming up after the Final to get to know you better. There’s a passenger liner that makes a pleasure cruise in the Mid-Rim, departs from Corellia I think, one of those short trips with the nice dinners? Yeah, you know what I mean. Anyways, it takes place after the Final, so,” she paused, looked at Polis, “you want to join me for dinner?”

    “I understand if you can’t go, really, I do. I just wanted to throw that out there. Oh, and one more thing, you kick Ylesia’s rear out there, you hear? Show them everything you’ve got. You do that, and trophy number three is all yours,” Meredith said.

    Tag: @Jedi Gunny
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  5. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    IC Post

    Once more, around Draft time, the same anonymous sportswriter has finished their Draft projections for all the galaxy to see.

    First Round

    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers - Maxxolo "Max" Grap (Devaronian, Male, Right Corner Back, Coruscant Polytechnic Institute)

    I’m going to make a real stretch pick here and say that the Smugglers will pick up Grap at the first overall pick. With a position of need at Left Corner Back, I think Grap would be able to make the transition and play meaningful minutes right away. As we’ve seen recently, CorTech players are making a name for themselves in the League, so Grap should be no exception.

    Euceron Storm - Cord McKerty (Human, Male, Left Corner Forward, University of Coruscant)

    Although not a position of need at this point, look for the Storm to take the top-rated forward in the draft in McKerty. He put up excellent numbers this season for the Hawk-bats, and should be a good offensive power in the Elite League when teamed up with Lann Helkin in the Storm Front 6.

    Ralltiir Starkillers - Mo Klaret, (Human, Male, Center Half Forward, The Ord Sabaok University)

    The Starkillers were second-to-last in points scored last season, so they need a boost from the Front 6. Klaret should provide that boost; the Helmsman winner will definitely help out Ralltiir both in the short-term and long-run.

    Ryloth Rough Riders - Net Benneb (Neimoidian, Male, Full Back, GVSU)

    The Rough Riders faltered last season after the retirement of Joen Makker after the 272 campaign, although the defense played well given the lack of an experienced full back. Look for the Rough Rider front office to draft Makker’s successor in Benneb, who surprised everyone by exceling for GVSU last season after struggling the last few years. He has some rough spots around the edges, but a ton of talent plus a top-overall billing from the HSN makes him an attractive pick here.

    Bakura Miners [from Rydonni Prime Monarchs] – Ken Zetter (Human, Male, Full Back, Druckenwell Technical University)

    Having three first-round picks is definitely a luxury, especially when you need defense like the Miners do. Their performance this last season on defense was downright dreadful, so having three picks to sort it out here is smart. Zetter is the second-ranked full back in the draft behind Benneb, and if the GVSU player isn’t available by now, look for the Miners to take Zetter. He did a good job last season at DTU, and then impressed scouts at various combines.

    Bakura Miners [from Mando'ade Mercs] - Manta Se'o (Human, Male, Half Back, VCU)

    With the glut of expiring contracts in the Back 6 for the Miners, look for Quinn Cundertol and the Miner Front Office to try and find some young talent to get their defense back on track to go with Falene Trieste. Se’o may have some personal issues dealing with the media and reports of social media gone wrong for him, but he is a smart player who has a great motor. Should be a serviceable player for a long time.

    Bakura Miners - Leann Lightcin (Human, Female, Half Forward, Taanab A&M)
    With the possibility of the Miners letting Corrie Andersen go, and with Dorf Landa aging, the Miners could use a young forward to team with 272 first-round pick Will Detra to form their Front 6 of the future. Look for them to take Lightcin here; she was a solid forward for A&M last season, and will be effective in most any offensive system she finds herself in. A no-brainer at this point, especially if McKerty and Klaret are off the board.

    Coruscant Senators - Shae Bellweather (Human, Female, Half Forward, UC Bella Vistal)

    The Senators need young forwards badly after losing four starters from last year’s team due to retirement. Half Forward is especially a position of concern for Gark S’rily and company, having Polis Vayne, Lokesh Fil’ish, and Moen Heatly to rely on for so long. But Bellweather should be available at this point in the draft, and can contribute immediately. The Senators have scored wins on their last few picks from UCBV (see: Jayla Leed, although she was drafted by Thyferra, the Senators’ farm team), and Bellweather being a Helmsman nominee definitely makes this an interesting pick.


    Second Round

    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers - Grayporrin (Wookiee, Male, Half Back, University of Kashyyyk)

    Euceron Storm – Niskat Deenever (Human, Female, Half Forward, UBSD)

    Ralltiir Starkillers - Wilhulf Nexrus (Human, Male, Verpine Technical Institute)

    Ryloth Rough Riders - Clarice Su (Sullustan, Female, Full Forward, College of Deredith & Millicent)

    Rydonni Prime Monarchs [from Rydonni Prime Monarchs via Euceron Storm via Bakura Miners] - Nefroq Vubbins (Mon Calamari, Female, Corner Back, Coruscant Air Fleet Academy)

    Mando'ade Mercs - Almert Song (Human, Male, Corner Forward, Tiarest University)

    Rydonni Prime Monarchs [from Bakura Miners] - Vicki Devine (Theelin, Female, Half Forward, GVSU)

    Coruscant Senators - Alyda Hovechar (Human, Female, Midfielder, Coruscant Polytechnic Institute)

    NOTE: First midfielder taken at the end of the second round? It looks like most teams are set at this position, and don’t need any middies.


    Third Round

    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers - Rann Gorlo (Iktochi, Male, Right Half Forward, Coruscant Polytechnic Institute)

    Rydonni Prime Monarchs [from Euceron Storm] - Leah Nergbolt (Human, Female, Half Back, GVSU)

    Rydonni Prime Monarchs [from Ralltiir Starkillers] - Marco DiJohn (Hapan, Male, Half Back, GVSU)

    Ryloth Rough Riders - Jalex Dwara (Human, Female, Full Forward, Orn Free Ta Central Academy [age 19])

    Rydonni Prime Monarchs [from Rydonni Prime Monarchs via Euceron Storm] – Off-the-board pick

    Mando'ade Mercs - Jam Tarpals, (Gungan, Male, Goalkeeper, The Ord Sabaok University)

    Rydonni Prime Monarchs [from Bakura Miners] – Off-the-board pick


    Coruscant Senators - Calmerung D'jukk (Khil, Male, Corner Back, University of Evenvale)

    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik, @JM_1977, @Vehn, @CPL_Macja, @jcgoble3, @Runjedirun, @Trieste
    Last edited by Jedi Gunny, Jun 20, 2013
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  6. jcgoble3 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 7, 2010
    star 4
    IC: Zay Antilles
    Location: Cockpit of the Lost Paradise, approaching Euceron
    Time: Thursday, three days before the Finals

    "So you expect me to believe that you're just here as tourists, is that right?" asked Lonnard Terns for the fifteenth time.

    Zay looked to his Master for a response; he was running out of patience with this question. Lonnard, captain and sole crew member of the transport ship Lost Paradise, had agreed to ferry him and his Master, Palla, to Euceron from Frego for no charge ("meeting an honest-to-goodness Jedi—and two of them at that!—is payment enough for me" was what he had said back on Frego), but he wouldn't stop asking why they were headed to Euceron. He had been repeatedly told that they were just tourists wanting to see the limmie Finals, but he refused to believe that. In truth, they were tracking a dangerous terrorist, and heading to the location of the Finals was just a coincidence, but that whole operation was classified, hence the cover story.

    Palla looked back at him, and Zay, noting that Lonnard had his back turned for the moment, mimed a sigh and waved his hand in front of him as if to suggest a mind trick before sticking out his tongue to indicate sarcasm. Palla gave him a disapproving look, then turned to Lonnard and sighed in defeat. "Fine. That's half the reason. The other half is classified, as in 'I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you.' Got it?"

    "Whoa, cloak-and-dagger stuff. Just as long as you don't get me involved. Say, might this have anything to do with the report of a thwarted terrorist plot during the Galactic Games?"

    "I can't confirm or deny that."

    Lonnard grinned. "I'll take that as a yes." He checked something on the console in front of him, then flipped a switch. "Strap yourselves in, Mr. and Mrs. Spy. Hyperspace reversion coming up in ten, nine, eight..."

    Zay clenched a fist at being called a spy and opened his mouth, but Palla put a finger over her mouth to shush him before he could say anything. Both Jedi buckled their seat belts, Zay in the co-pilot's seat and Palla in the seat behind him.

    "...three, two, one, here we go." The blue tangle of hyperspace gave way to streaks that resolved themselves into discrete points of light. Blocking the points of light directly in front of them were the city lights of the dark side of Euceron. Lonnard checked his charts. "Well, shucks. Looks like we came out on the wrong side of the planet. Just take us a little longer to get down, that's all." He paused for a moment. "Oops, I need to use the refresher. Probably should have done that in hyperspace, but you know what they say about hindsight and all that. Zay, can you take the controls? I'll be back in a couple minutes." Without waiting for a reply, Lonnard popped out of his chair and bolted out of the cockpit.

    Zay suppressed a chuckle as he gently maneuvered the small ship to port to begin a half orbit of Euceron. "He must have really had to go. Wow, this thing handles great. Almost like a fighter. I'd love to put this baby through its paces." Zay set a course, then turned around to face his Master when she didn't reply. "Is there a problem?"

    "Yes," she said. "Whether Lonnard likes that or not, you may get that chance."

    Zay frowned and focused on the Force. Listening closely, he eliminated one benign tendril after another until he was left with the one that connected to another ship about two klicks behind them. "We're being followed."

    "Yes. I just realized it myself. There must be a tracking device on our hull. For now, just fly casual. Let him make the first move."

    It didn't take long for that first move to begin the fight. Almost as soon as the words had left Palla's mouth, the Force surged around them, warning them of an attack. Zay yanked the yoke to the left and immediately cursed Lonnard for leaving the inertial compensators on 95 percent, as he was nearly thrown out of his seat despite the seat belt. As a pair of laser blasts zoomed by to starboard, Zay reached over to the pilot's side of the dashboard and dialed the compensator up to a more reasonable 98 percent, then powered up what passed for deflector shields on the Lost Paradise and angled them to full rear.

    "What the kriff was that?!" came a scream from the back of the ship; no doubt Lonnard had been thrown around in the refresher.

    Zay ignored him and sank himself completely into the Force. The Force surged again, and Zay pulled hard to starboard as more laser blasts barely missed them. Another surge from the Force—and the threat display erupted in a loud alarm, signaling a missile lock. Zay began a complicated series of maneuvers in an attempt to break the lock, and it was at that moment that Lonnard stumbled back into the cockpit.

    "What the kriff is going on?!" he yelled, bracing himself against the cockpit doorway as he took in the view outside, including the constant stream of laser blasts that were barely missing them.

    "We were followed from Frego and are now under attack," Palla calmly informed him.

    "Thank you, Captain Obvious! Now this is my ship, and I will fly her!" Lonnard stumbled toward his chair as Zay continued to try to break the missile lock, but Palla held him back.

    "Let Zay handle this. You don't have the Force, and he's an expert pilot. You know what his last name means?"

    Lonnard attempted to fight against Palla's hold on him, but couldn't break free as Zay's dodging threw everyone from side to side. "Of course! It's the most common human last name in the galaxy! Now let me fly!"

    Palla continued restraining the captain. "Ever heard of Wedge Antilles?"

    Lonnard stopped resisting. "Yeah... You saying that this kid is a descendant of Wedge?"

    "Yes. And you know what? Wedge passed his piloting skills to his daughters, and they passed them to their kids, and so on all through the generations. Now imagine taking the skills of Wedge Antilles, passed down through the generations, and enhancing them with the Force." The alarm stopped, and the cockpit was relatively quiet for a moment. "Can you break a missile lock like that?"

    "Uh... no."

    Palla, having made her point, released her grip on him, and he continued up to his seat, but didn't touch the controls. Zay, meanwhile, was oblivious to the entire exchange between Palla and Lonnard and focused entirely on the dogfight. He dodged one way, then the other, rolling, juking, diving, and doing whatever was needed to evade what was now a constant stream of laser blasts. His movements were so wild that the pursuing ship never regained the missile lock, but they fired a pair of missiles anyway. Zay dodged—and the missiles turned to follow.

    For the first time since the dogfight had begun, Zay spoke. "What the..."

    Lonnard checked a readout. "Concussion missiles. These guys are serious. At least they don't have a lock. What'd you do to piss them off?"

    Palla ignored the question, and Zay was too busy to respond as he maneuvered up, down, and every which way, and the missiles matched every movement. "Don't tell me these things have droid brains," commented Palla.

    "Enough of this," said Zay. "Time to shoot back. Does this thing have any weapons?"

    Lonnard pointed toward the back of the ship. "There's one up top. I can..." His voice trailed off as Palla left the cockpit so fast that he didn't even see her move. "Fine. Be that way." He turned back to the forward viewport, and studied the threat display as Zay continued to try to shake the missiles.

    Suddenly, the sound of a laser blast was heard from nearby, immediately followed by a flash of light. One red mark disappeared from the threat display, indicating that one of the missiles had been hit and prematurely detonated. A few seconds later, the same sequence of events repeated itself as Palla shot the other missile down. More laser blasts were heard as Palla turned the gun directly on their pursuers, and they quickly gave up the fight, breaking off toward the planet.

    Zay straightened out the Lost Paradise and checked the damage readout. He was pleased to see that everything was green, indicating no damage. Palla soon walked back in and took a seat, and the three sat in silence for a few minutes.

    It was Lonnard who finally broke the silence. "Well, that was the most interesting thing to happen to me in a long time. How'd they follow us through hyperspace? I thought that was impossible."

    "Tracking device," said Zay. "There's probably one attached to your hull. We'll have to find and remove it after we land."

    "Can you teach me to fly like that?"

    "Got ten years and the Force?" Zay replied. Palla chuckled at the response.

    "Nope. Guess I'll settle for what I've got right now."



    Location: Docking Bay 412, Eusebus Spaceport
    Time: Two hours later

    "There it is." Palla leaped up onto the hull and fingered the tracking device, looking for a way to remove. Seeing how it was attached, she gently pulled this way, then that way, and it came right off. Dropping back down to the ground, she turned to Zay. "Batter up!" she called as she threw it in his direction.

    Zay grinned as he drew his lightsaber, ignited it, and swung at the device flying toward him, neatly slicing it in two. Deactivating his lightsaber, he turned around and picked up the pieces. "Well, that isn't going to be sending out locations anymore."

    Lonnard shook his head. "You two drive me crazy. Well, thanks for getting those pirates or whatever they were off our backs up there. I'm going to get out of here."

    The two Jedi said their farewells and left the bay as Lonnard retreated inside his ship. Making their way into the city of Eusebus, they began to scan the area for any sign of trouble; finding none, they headed for one of Palla's favorite eateries for some dinner.

    As they munched on sandwiches, Zay asked a question. "Do you think he might attack the awards ceremony tonight?"

    Palla put her half-finished sandwich down. "It's possible, but I think an attack on the Finals themselves is more likely. Still, it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on the ceremony."



    Location: Downtown Eusebus
    Time: Saturday at dusk

    The ceremony had been uneventful, at least in terms of terrorist plots, and nothing had happened in the past two day. Zay now stood on the sidewalk, cheering on the marching bands and such in the Eusebus Community Festival Parade. Like Palla, he was wearing a Storm jersey instead of his usual Jedi robes and had his lightsaber concealed in order to blend in. For once, the weather on Euceron had decided to cooperate with limmie; record high temperatures had been reached today and were forecast again for tomorrow, but since it was still very early spring, record highs made for beautiful weather. As his foot began to tap to the beat of the song being played by one of the bands, he caught something out of the corner of his eye and froze.

    Palla, noticing Zay's reaction, whispered, "What is it?"

    Zay studied the face in the distance for a moment, and finally got a positive identification. "Look forty degrees to my right, three hundred meters. Do you see what I see?"

    Palla searched the crowd in that direction and locked on to what Zay was looking out. "Our target. Come on, let's find a way over there."

    The two Jedi took off down the street, looking for a way to cross it without being noticed, but with the parade in progress, it was impossible. They would have to disrupt the parade, and Palla insisted on doing it as quickly and with as little impact as possible. Studying the procession, Zay saw a larger than normal gap between a float and the band behind it. He pointed in that direction.

    "Good call," commented Palla. They would draw the attention of local authorities by illegally crossing the parade route, but that could be smoothed over later, and the spectators likely would just dismiss them as idiots and not give them a second thought.

    They sprinted through the gap, and a police officer on foot gave chase. Palla and Zay kept running, unable to afford the time that would be needed to stop and identify themselves as Jedi. Threading their way through the crowd, Zay scanned the crowd to locate the wanted terrorist again and spotted him kneeling next to a gray box.

    "He's setting up a bomb," he breathed.

    "We have to stop him. You go right. I'll flank him from the left."

    Zay went off to the right as the Force told him that the officer had chosen to follow him. He reached into his pocket where he had hidden his lightsaber, but didn't pull it out yet. As he approached, the target turned in his direction, and a look of recognition, followed by a smile, flashed across his face. He stepped away from the bomb, drew a hold-out blaster, and fired at Zay. The young Jedi, in a motion so fast it could hardly be seen, pulled out and ignited his lightsaber and deflected the shot into the ground as the crowd scattered at the sound of blaster fire. Two more shots came his way, and Zay deflected both of them into the ground as well.

    Palla ran in from the other side, also with her lightsaber drawn, and the bomber looked back and forth between the two Jedi. Realizing he was caught, he did something that neither Jedi expected: he turned and fired at the bomb. Palla dived and caught the shot on her lightsaber as Zay simultaneously lunged toward the bomber and knocked his blaster out of his hand. Zay pounced on the terrorist, knocking him to the ground, and he gave up the fight.

    "Poodoo," the bomber said as local police arrived with blasters drawn. "I thought my friends up there would get rid of you before you got here."

    "So you were behind that attack as we came out of hyperspace?"

    "Of course. And I'll tell you this: You may have caught me for now, but you cannot stop me forever. Try, or do not. There is no do." The bomber laughed as Zay clenched his teeth.

    Two police officers put the bomber in handcuffs as a third turned to the Jedi. There was no need for identification now that their lightsabers had given them away. "What happened here?"

    Palla spoke up first, pointing to the gray box. "That box is a bomb. We need to evacuate the area."

    The officer eyes grew wide, but he responded quickly, informing the other officers, and both police and Jedi began to clear the area.



    Location: Section 106, Row 17, Euceron Stadium
    Time: 1215, Sunday

    It took the Eusebus bomb squad a mere 10 minutes to defuse the bomb, and the parade continued after that. With the bomber now in a maximum-security cell in the local jail and spaceport authorities hot on the trail of his friends that they had encountered on arrival, the two Jedi could fulfill the cover story they had given Lonnard of tourists wanting to see the Finals. Decked out in the same jerseys they had worn the night before—washed, of course—and lightsabers once again concealed, Palla and Zay sat in decent, but not great seats as they watched the pregame pageantry for the Futures Cup Final.

    "How nice of the weather to cooperate," commented Zay as he looked at the open roof.

    "Yeah, not a single drop of rain in the forecast," Palla added. Changing the subject, she asked, "What's the Storm's affiliate again?"

    "The Commenor Gundarks," replied Zay. "They actually had a chance to be here, but they blew it last week."

    "Do they have a game today?"

    "Every Futures League team does. They have a third place game all the way down to a ninth place game. I thought you knew that."

    "You're the limmie expert, not me."

    "Well, I'm trying to be less of one, but that bomber didn't help much, leading us back here to the Finals site."

    Palla chuckled. "So where are the Gundarks today?"

    "Home against the Thyferra Force in the third place match."

    "That's going to be a tough matchup."

    "Yeah, I'd ask that the Force be with the Gundarks, but that just doesn't come out right."

    Palla rolled her eyes as Zay laughed. You never knew when Zay would be, well, Zay.

    TAG: @Jedi Gunny, @Teegirloo, @Runjedirun, @Rebecca_Daniels, anyone else that wishes to comment
    Bardan_Jusik, Vehn and Trieste like this.
  7. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post
    --Transaction Wire--
    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    • Receives Gargova Brousard (Human, Female) from Mando'ade Mercs
    • Beck Thornton (Human, Male, Right Half Forward) from Mando'ade Mercs
    Mando'ade Mercs
    • Receives Rajah Rollko (Shistavanen, Female, Left Corner Forward) from Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    • Receives Kellie Dupont (Twi'lek, Female, Left Half Forward) from Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    • Receives seventeenth overall pick in 274 Draft from Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @Vehn
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  8. Runjedirun Chosen One

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


    It was the day before the ELL Galactic Cup Fianl. Lucie was just beginning to do low key workouts again and was feeling really good about her accomplishments for the day. She was settling in on her sofa with a fruit smoothie and unbuttered/unsalted tasteless popped corn wondering if she would be able to stay up and watch the LFL Cup Final. She knew she should make the effort. Some of these players could be making their way up to the Starkillers roster next season.

    It had been a blessing for Lucie that the Starkillers season ended in Euceron. Regrettably she took a time off from her job at the restaurant and allowed her ankle to heal. She even saw a physician and purchased a bacta salve to speed up the healing process. The time off work combined with the medical fees kept her from signing up for any more classes at the University, but she needed her ankle to dance. Her job with the Starkillers was still her main source of income.

    The good news was that Lucie was finally back on her feet and working many hours at the restaurant to make up for her down time. The bad news was that tomorrow was the ELL Championship game and she was waitressing for the event. She heard stories all season from other servers that patrons would come in order very little food and stay for the entire game. She never served on Limmie game days due to her commitment to the dance team and had been allowing her ankle to heal so far for the play offs. So she hadn’t witnessed this firsthand, but it sounded like all servers agreed that it was the least profitable time to work.

    No reason to stress over that now, she mused to herself as she took a long sip of her smoothie and watched the players as they were introduced for the LFL game. Hopefully one or two of them would be brought up to the Starkillers next year. Their roster definitely could use an overhaul in her opinion.
    Tag: None!
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  9. Bardan_Jusik Mand'alor - Manager of the EUC, SWC and Spinoffs

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Dec 14, 2009
    star 10
    IC: Beskaryc Taab
    Meshla Vhetin, manda'yaim.

    Taab's smile quickly disappeared. He was quite pleased to know that Ryi Kor'le was still alive, but he had to wonder why she had come back to reveal herself now. Kote, who was still behind Taab, though he could be recognized by his voice, seemed to read his mind. "We are back because the mand'alor called for all mando'ade to return." The Merc turned mercenary stepped forward now, standing beside Kor'le. They had both changed the colors and patterns on their armor, though Kor'le had kept some red trim as a reminder of her past.

    Taab cleared his throat. "So I did. And you two have something you can offer me I suppose." It was a statement, not a question. The fact that these two had broken through the stadium's security systems showed just how much they did have to offer. Kor'le answered. "We have unique skills Lord Mand'alor, skills that we offer to you. At a price."

    Taab nodded, this was to be expected. Any Mandalorian could be tasked with doing the job he had in mind for these two, and they knew it. But one often got what one paid for, and these two made a formidable pair. "Very well, you will be well compensated for your efforts."

    Kote spoke again. "And what is our task?" Taab looked hard at him, through hooded eyes. They had made it this far, surely they would already know. Kor'le picked up on it. "We will find out who did this, and when we do we will inform you so that our people may have their revenge." Taab smiled again. "The Protectors have already begun an investigation, an official one. You will be my unofficial investigators. You will have unlimited resources to aid you in your task. You are authorized to go anywhere and do anything in order to bring these hut'uune (cowards) to justice."

    The pair bowed. Taab had not thought to ask how the young woman had survived, nor how Kote had found her. What was important was that they had. Instead he asked a simple question. "Where will you start?"

    Now it was Ryi's turn to smile. "We start with the one that had the most to gain from Ordo's death. We start...with you."




    IC: Aay'han Vhett
    273 ELL Awards Ceremony, Eusebus, Euceron

    She didn't want to be here. She hated these awards ceremonies. There was but one piece of hardware to which she and the Mercs aspired, the Galactic Cup. Sadly an early exit from this past season;s playoffs had brought an end to that dream for yet another year. These lesser awards seemed small consolation to the teams that hadn't made it to the ultimate prize.

    She wasn't at all surprised when Tam didn't win for rookie of the year. The Togruta didn't deserve the award, though she had shown spirited play in her limited time on the pitch. Fortunately Daryc was responding well to treatment and would be ready to reclaim his starting position next season. Tam would make an excellent reserve player though, and a good change of pace.

    She wasn't surprised when Vizsla failed to bring home best coaching honors either. He had won the year before, and back to back winners were rare. Especially ones whose winning percentage had actually declined. Still Vhett had every confidence in him going forward. The day to day grind of playing in the Solo Conference could wreak havoc on the teams there, but it was also the greater challenge and that challenge was something Vhett and the Mercs relished.

    Even though the Mercs had lost in the first round of the playoff, Vhett did take some solace in the fact that the only two teams left standing were probably the best that the ELL had to offer. The Mercs had lost to them both during the season. Hopefull...

    Her thoughts were interrupted as her own name was announced as the winner for best GM. Startled she stood up, trying to keep the shock off of her face. Slowly she made her way to the podium where she took her hardware. Remembering Cundertoll's arrogant speech she leaned into the microphone and uttered just a single word. "Vor'e". She then placed her buy'ce on her head and went back to her seat. She still had work to do.





    GM's office, Meshla Vhetin, manda'yaim. One week later.

    Vhett read the report coming across her HUD and was furious. Zoomball? Of all things, zoomball? She slowly removed her buy'ce and sat behind her desk fuming. The message from Flarn's agent said the reserve Left Corner Forward would probably miss a majority of the season with his injury sustained in a pickup game of zoomball back on whichever world he made his off season home.

    Shab. She knew the Yuzzem would seek an opinion from the Mercs team doctors as well, but she was sure they would come to the same conclusion. She would need to find a replacement, and fast. Flarn was a core piece of the Mercs puzzle going forward, and though he was only a reserve, he played significant minutes in the Mercs fast paced attack which stressed frequent substitutions to keep everyone's legs fresh. He would be a free agent at the end of next season, and Vhett would certainly take this incident into account when looking at his next contract.

    She could use the draft to try to replace him, but she already had her draft choices slotted for particular players. Certainly she had backup plan upon backup plan if the players she had targeted were off the board by the time the Mercs picked, but she hated to add yet another wrinkle to the Merc's draft strategy. That strategy in and of itself was one born of desperation. This was a deep draft, at least by the Mercs standards, but the Mercs had only their two picks, and due to their relatively good season their own first pick wouldn't even come until the draft was halfway over.

    That was a problem. This off season had been going quietly (at least until Flarn's injury) and there were few holes to fill on the team. The draft and free agency would be more than sufficient to plug those gaps. But Vhett's concerns were on what happened after the upcoming season. She had numerous free agents to make decisions on, and many had indicated that it might be time to hang up their spikes and move on from the game. The media had caught on to the future dilemma and had coined it the "rosterpocalypse". As with most made up arutii terms Vhett found it highly annoying.

    It was made all the more annoying in that it was in many ways an accurate term. So it was that Vhett was using this off season with an eye towards next to mitigate the damage. The injury to Flarn upset some of those plans. She had tried to turn to the trading block, but her own assets were few. Mostly players on expiring contracts, players that she had no intention of resigning. Players like Beck Thornton.

    Thornton was a serviceable player, a veteran who knew the ins and outs of the League. He had played for the Senators before coming to the Mercs and he knew how to win. But his skills were diminishing and Vhett wouldn't be keeping him on after this season. She had tried flipping him to several other teams for low draft picks but all to no avail. They all saw the same things she did. The Wookiee midfielder Ogeeogilthorp was another reserve on a short contract that she wouldn't mind flipping, but most of the league seemed to be set at at Midfield. Now she would have to double her efforts.

    There was always the prospect of trading Gargova Brousard. The last pick in the first round from last season had done a good job at Concordia. She had come out of the gates like a rampaging Rancor before cooling off late as defenses made adjustments to her style of play. The young forward never made any adjustments of her own and her development seemed to have stalled a bit. Still she had a bright future and fit in well with the future plans of the Mercs. But if she could be flipped for multiple draft picks, or even players, Vhett would have to listen.

    But it only added to her frustration that there were few deals to be made out there for her. Other teams wanted draft picks in return and she was loath to add any of her own to trade deals. She needed them. After the past two seasons the Mercs were stuck at a crossroads, between contention and rebuilding. It was an uncomfortable place to be.

    Then the comm line chirped at her, Vhett half expected it would be Taab, announcing yet more new security measures. Something had him on edge, more than just the bombings and his elevation to Mand'alor, though whatever it was he was keeping it close to his chest plates. But it wasn't the new Supreme Leader, it was Vehn of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers, and she wanted to talk deals...

    TAG: No one, just setting the background for the Mercs off season moves.

    [IMG]
    Last edited by Bardan_Jusik, Jun 21, 2013
    Vehn likes this.
  10. Vehn Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 14, 2009
    star 4
    IC: Kaitlyn Vehn
    Office 270-B, New Vertica, Nar Shaddaa Smugglers HQ

    Cutter had been efficient and effective in cleaning out his office. He’d left no trace that he had ever been here or spent long hours building a contender. That was fine with Kaitlyn. She wanted no memories of the man. She wanted to forge a new team heading into a new era. Three losing seasons wasn’t going to cut it in this league anymore. Mediocrity in the conference had earned the Smugglers a basement presence the last few seasons and had hurt their prestige. Although the league would never kick the Smugglers down to the Premiere League, Vehn was positive that Kayl’hen could find ways of motivating this franchise to improve their play.

    Pay cuts across the board ought to do it, Kaitlyn thought as she tapped a pen to her mouth. But the Miners had done something like that a few years back during the days of John Talley. How’d that work out for them? Just more playoff home losses which resulted in an embarrassing 0-8 cumulative record, a fact that Vehn privately relished. But hey, when you were the Bakura Miners, who was counting those losses anyway? The media loved them, the darlings of the Republic: the team that could do no wrong.

    And now the Miners had a Trieste in the lineup. And not just any old Trieste, of which that rather large family had their fingers in every possible market, but the Trieste, as in, collegiate Limmie star, Falene Trieste. The ginger haired daughter of Kerry Trieste, current Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, had the name, the pedigree, but did she have the heart? Did she have the passion to withstand a short but very intense professional season? Could she go the distance with the big guns of the galaxy? Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa, Mando’ade, Rydonni Prime, Euceron?

    Unlikely, Vehn mused.

    And that still left the problem of what to do with the information coming out of the Board of Governors meeting. She was sworn to secrecy. Couldn’t even speak about it but what had transpired in that meeting had led Kaitlyn to believe that the game of Elite League Limmie would never be the same. For better or worse, changes were coming.

    Sighing, Kaitlyn keyed up a datapad and looked over the Smugglers current roster. Chambers was gone, enjoying retirement. She was well aware that Cutter had offered her a job as goalkeeper coach for this season. Kaitlyn didn’t feel like a mutiny on her hands and so had acquiesced to Cutter’s dying wishes. Chambers would get the job and besides why waste a talented former player? But looking at the rest of the roster told Kaitlyn that the Smugglers were in trouble. Sure, they’d drafted a few hits the last few years but the starting four that had so dominated the Vandelhelm Jets in 270 were showing not only their age but an uncanny ability to not score any points. That was a problem and that problem needed to be fixed.

    She was well aware of the draft order. She had the first overall pick of the 274 draft and wouldn’t give that up for anything but something drastic had to be done to bring in some fresh talent, some new eyes. Scanning the list of teams participating in the draft, Vehn knew that she could play anyone off of one another to get what she wanted. Of course, it looked like the Miners were set with their three first round draft picks. That was pretty slick maneuvering by Cundertol. The rest of the entrants, however, were up for deals. She was reminded of the saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer and soon settled on a team that from all intents and purposes needed to move up in the draft to nab some talent this year. That team was the Mando’ade Mercs.

    Snatching up her comm unit, Kaitlyn put in a direct call to Vhett. Apparently the networking she had done at the BoG meeting was about to pay off. It was a gamble, but hey, maybe they could put aside any tensions between them and get a deal done.

    “Aay’han? Kaitlyn Vehn here, Nar Shaddaa Smugglers, got a moment? I’ve got something you might be interested in…”




    New Vertica, Nar Shaddaa

    The trade was done and Kaitlyn felt pretty good about the state of the franchise. She’d plugged a few needed holes in the offense, moved some players who had struggled in the system, and discarded her third round 274 draft pick which had always felt like dead weight to her. Maybe the Mercs could benefit, just not enough to win the Galactic Cup next season. The roster was shaping up nicely. Now, she had to find someone to coach the team. She keyed a button on her datapad and flipped through a list of names.

    Mick Hancock? Guy had seen some success with the Miners but Vehn was worried he was too much of a system man.

    Aileen Wynn? The woman that wore whatever color paid her the highest bidder was piddling around in the Premiere League somewhere. She’d had some success with Hapes and Bakura but had lost her form somewhere along the way and Kaitlyn thought she’d lost her soul working for Calo Morrnd.

    Tan Strensky? The man was ancient and would never coach an arch-rival. No, the former Patriot great had too much fun selling organic grape juice and salad dressing when he wasn’t tending to his vineyards on his estate.

    Roy Cardan? The former Smugglers head coach who took over the team following the retirement of Tover Micjaa was as hard as they came but also was stuck in the past. He had failed to adapt to the changing nature of the league and the organization had paid dearly.

    There were a few up and comers but Kaitlyn wanted someone with experience, with insight into the past and wisdom regarding the future. She wanted a man that held his own opinions and didn’t need any micro-managing. Given the right personality, she might even relinquish general manager duties if the right guy came along. She took her eyes away from the datapad and rested them on the wall.

    Loads of pictures adorned the wall of this venerable office, the office that Rhia Grames had built. Pictures of past Smuggler players, past championship teams, past coaches, well, just all things in the past, but it was a great walk down memory lane, or in the case of ancient history, a really cool archive.

    Too bad you’re dead, Rhia. We sure could use your help Kaitlyn thought as she stared at the beautiful woman in a photo hoisting a Galactic Cup over her head, proudly holding up three fingers to celebrate her third ring as a player. That victory, Kaitlyn knew, came against the Tan Strensky led Patriots in 230 ABY. Boy, if you wanted a classic grudge match, today’s rivalries couldn’t hold a candle.

    Her eyes drifted to another series of photos, more recent. In one of the photos was Tover Micjaa, as a head coach, lifting up the Galactic Cup in 261, surrounded by that venerable squad. Squinting her eyes, Kaitlyn made out a younger Meredith Chambers and the flashing blonde hair of Corrie Andersen. The two, as far as she knew, still hadn’t repaired their relationship. A shame, really, they both had earned a victory there. Still, her thoughts lingered on Tover. The man who had generated a level of consistency and success for the organization that hadn’t been known before or since, the man who had epitomized Nar Shaddaa and emerged from the shadow of Rhia Grames to be his own man.

    That’s when an idea popped into her head. An idea so crazy, so ludicrous, that only someone on the Smugglers could come up with it. Well, okay, the Miners had done something similar with Valerii, but give the businesswoman from Druckenwell some props, eh?

    “Worth a shot,” Kaitlyn said to no one in particular.

    Kaitlyn keyed her comm. and put a call through. The comm. rang and rang and rang. Finally, a man’s voice picked up.

    “Hello?”

    “Tover Micjaa?”

    “Yes?”

    “Kaitlyn Vehn, Nar Shaddaa Smugglers,” she announced.

    “What do you want?” Micjaa said after a long pause.




    The Next Day

    “So without further ado, I am so proud to introduce a Smuggler legend, a Hall of Famer, and our new head coach, Tover Micjaa,” Kaitlyn announced to a packed conference room at the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers facility.

    [IMG]
    Tover waved to the crowd, shook Kaitlyn’s hand, posed for photos and then stood behind the podium. He took a drink of water, slumped his shoulders, looked back at Kaitlyn with a smile, and then addressed the media and assembled fans.

    “I’m back,” Tover said as the fans roared their approval. The sound was deafening, rivaled that found in Six Boroughs. Drinks were splashed, chants were taken up, and after a good long while finally died away.

    “Ten years ago I retired from Limmie completely. I coached my last game. I was finished. Since then, I’ve dedicated my time to my wife, Selene Minn, whom you all know, and the Valor Foundation. But just because I was doing something else with my time doesn’t mean that I wasn’t keeping an eye on the Smugglers organization. I watched, and cheered, as we won the Cup in 267, and again in 270. I thought the coaching staff did a great job, Vincent Cutter assembled a successful squad, and things were humming right along. And then the next three years came and I saw stagnation and in some cases, regression. That had me worried. That made me wonder what was going on with a franchise that should have smacked the league upside the head time and again with the roster they had. We never once sniffed the playoffs. Not once and I feel that is unacceptable.”

    “I’m not going to promise anything. I’ve told Mrs. Vehn that I’ll give all I can give but she has to let me run the team as I see fit. I pick the players, I assemble the roster, and in return she provides me with money to buy the groceries. So, I’m the head coach and the general manager. Any questions?”

    “Can you duplicate the success that you had earlier on in your coaching career?” A reporter asked.

    “Unlikely,” Tover replied.

    “If you’re the general manager, how will you balance your duties as head coach?”

    “Been done before, next question,” Tover said and smiled as he shot down one reporter after another.

    “Any comments on Kaitlyn Vehn’s firing of Vincent Cutter and the former staff?”

    Tover looked over at Kaitlyn who gave him a nod. They were in full disclosure mode here. Nothing to hide, nobody benefited from lying, not in this forum.

    “Sometimes you gotta clean house.”

    “One last question!” A reporter yelled.

    “Yeah, go ahead.”

    “Do you still feel that you can coach the game at the professional level?”

    “Absolutely,” Tover replied as he flashed a smile, waved once more to the crowd, and walked off the stage.

    Tag: No One
    Last edited by Vehn, Jun 21, 2013
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  11. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    IC: Jed Ortmeyer
    Tatooine

    Jed was not happy by any stretch of the imagination. His Thyferra Force, looking to make it to the first-ever LFL Final, had been rolled 10-0 by the top seed Tatooine Sandskimmers. He had seen absolutely no life on offense; dead house plants looked livelier than his forwards had in this one. The midfielders had been easily beaten to the ball time and again, and the defense had done its job . . . but when you lost by 10 points, you never gave the Back 6 a pat on the back for their efforts. It was still a blowout loss, one that looked crippling for the Force.

    “What the hell was that?” Jed demanded of his team. Most of the players just had their heads down, not wanting to draw any more ire than their play already had. “I repeat. What. The Hell. Was that?”

    “We didn’t play well,” Lai Blutas, the Twi’lek midfielder, finally said.

    “You’re damn right we didn’t play well!” Jed snapped. “Do any of you realize what you lost out there on that field today?” No one spoke up. “You lost more than a damn ballgame. You lost much more than that. What I saw out there was pathetic; you assumed you could come in here, to this blazing sun, and just think the Sandskimmers would bow down to you. That’s not how it works in this game, people. You forget where you are, what you’re doing. This organization is a damn proud one; we’ve made the playoffs quite a few times since 269, and what do we have to show for it? One playoff win, last week. You not only let me down this week, but our fans. And yourselves. You should be ashamed of how you played out there.”

    There was more silence in the room than had been heard all season long. Jed was pissed, and he wanted to chew his team out for not playing their hardest. And the players knew it; they hadn’t done their best.

    “I know it was warm out there. Hot as hell,” Jed said. “I played here once or twice in my career, and I’ll tell you that it wasn’t a picnic by any means. But you need to push past that. Winners are those who rise to the occasion when their team needs them most, and play hard despite the weather conditions. What I saw out there was nothing but a bunch of players who thought they were destined to win this game. You can’t be successful at this level of pro ball unless you have the guts to grind it out for 60 minutes in the blazing sun here on Tatooine. Champions are made in this kind of game, and we blew it. How does that make you feel?”

    Again, there was silence in the room.

    “Games like this look bad on all of you. The media, the fans, see you as quitters. You quit on me out there, on your coaches, on your fans. And on yourselves. I don’t want quitters on my team. You play every second until that final buzzer sounds, because I know you were capable of more today. Now we play for a consolation game instead of a championship. And how does that look for me? I’ve worked my ass off all year trying to keep you motivated, to keep you hungry. And you thank me, and the rest of the coaching staff and front office, but giving up and lying down. This was your time, and you failed to answer the call.

    As I said before, you lost more than just a ballgame out there. You forget that this franchise is a development team. The Senators care how you do, and they care how I look coaching you lot. Gark S’rily is a tough-as-nails GM; he’s not going to let you waltz onto his team without cutting your teeth at the top level of competition. You’re not going to play in the Elite League with Coruscant unless you play like you want to be there. There is no such thing as destiny in this game; you play for every inch, every loose ball, every scoring opportunity or defensive kill, to get to the biggest stage of the sport. I worked my ass off to get to the Elite League back in the day, and the reason I stuck around that long was because I never gave up. Even when life was dragging me down, I kept working. When my offensive game failed me, I reinvented myself to stick around. Whatever it took, I did it. And you know something? I won a Galactic Cup trophy because I played my role on a great team. I didn’t need to do everything for them, just my assigned purpose. That’s what winners do; they play team Limmie, and don’t worry about statistics or what’s on the dinner menu tonight before the game is over.

    What you did out there today was laughable. You think the Senators are going to call you up to play for them next season after they see you sit down in the heat and die as the other team runs circles around you? That’s not what they do. They’ve built a great team that works together, and needs the right kind of players. You all have the talent, but you need motivation, and obviously what I gave you wasn’t enough. You could have taken the Sandskimmers all the way to the brink, you could have shown people something out there. But you failed. Now we go into next week for a consolation game. It will decide third-place in this league. We could have played for all the stakes, especially since the big club would be there to see you all play earlier in the day and evaluate your talent. Now Tatooine is going to get that kind of scouting, not you. How does that make you feel?”

    More silence. This locker room was like a morgue.


    “You know what we’re going to do next week? We’re going to kick some ass against Commenor next week, that’s what,” Jed said. “No more excuses, no more pathetic play. I want you to go out of this season with a bang, and prove why you can be the next generation of Senators.” With that, he stalked out of the locker room, no one saying anything after him.

    TAG: @jcgoble3
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  12. jcgoble3 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 7, 2010
    star 4
    Sub-GM Post

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

    Limmie Futures League
    Championship Week
    Ninth Place Game
    (4) Kashyyyk Rangers at (4) Kamino Waves (23–18)
    Seventh Place Game
    (5) Concordia Crusaders at (5) Shili Suncrushers (27–13)
    Fifth Place Game
    (3) Druckenwell Marksmen at (2) Kessel Runners (12–11)
    Third Place Game
    (3) Thyferra Force at (2) Commenor Gundarks (3–12)
    Futures Cup Final, presented by Gundarkade
    Euceron Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron
    (1) Denon Demons vs. (1) Tatooine Sandskimmers (24–12)

    Congratulations to the Denon Demons, 273 Limmie Futures Cup Champions!

    TAG: @JM_1977, @Bardan_Jusik, @Vehn, @Rebecca_Daniels, @Jedi Gunny, @Teegirloo, @Runjedirun, @JediMaster1511
  13. CPL_Macja Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 29, 2008
    star 5
    IC: Setarcos Rhemes
    Eusebus, Euceron

    As always the Elite League Awards ceremony brought out the crème-de-la-crème and the who’s-who of limmie. As Setarcos walked around the auditorium he was accompanied by not only Variise K’ntarr, but her three siblings Kalin K’ntarr, Arden K’ntarr, and Loruna K’ntarr. Joining them was Lady Thara Adrimar of Byblos, Dawn Solo-Undolo, Lex Silas, Mia Silas, Vesper Lynd, Ema Zostin, Mara Singus, and Herc Tathor. Normally Tev would have accompanied his wife to the ceremony, but his body was not taking to his new therapy and he wasn’t feeling up to public appearances.

    Setarcos looked around the room at the Monarch contingent and noticed something peculiar, “Is it me or is your baby brother getting a little too cozy with Ms. Lynd over there?” he whispered in Variise’s ear as he nodded over to the corner of the room where Arden had his hand on the wall behind the right side of Vesper’s head and was whispering in her left ear. Vesper started giggling like a school girl.

    I’m not sure what he’s up to, but I’m sure her family wouldn’t approve of it. I’ll have a word with him tomorrow. But for now he should be cautious since a correspondent from the BBC has been trailing all of us since we made planet fall.” Setarcos scanned the room trying to find the reporter she was talking about. “Our security detail looked into her and determined that she must be writing a piece on Vesper’s career. Seeing as she put up All-Star numbers this season we were shocked that she was left off the ballot for a Salbukk and think she is looking into it as well.” The GM’s scan did not turn up the reporter his date mentioned, but he did happen to spot a gentleman he wanted to speak with.

    Is that the Badger? Is that Romo Crowley?” Setarcos crossed the room to the gentleman in a grey suit, purple shirt, and tie. “Variise let me introduce you to the Head Coach best known for developing the future of the Elite League. Romo Benedict Crowley III of the Bison Sabres.

    [IMG]

    Romo turned and faced them, “Well if it isn’t the Oracle himself, how are you doing Arco?

    About as well as you’ve been for the past two seasons.” Setarcos was referring to the lackluster performances that each of their teams had displayed. Both teams ended one season in the cellar and another by just missing the playoffs.

    The Badger? The Oracle? Is this some sort of inside coaches’ joke that I am not aware of?” Variise stood back and just watched as the two men exchanged a handshake followed by a brief hug. “So are you two going to clue me in or what?

    Crowley was the first to speak, “Thirty-four years ago I met a scrawny red head who was convinced that he could play Super 16 collegiate limmie as part of the RepU Scholars front six. I of course knew that I could, since I was on scholarship in the back six. For four years he somehow convinced the head coach to place him on the reserves. He spent most of his time on bench, where he wrote, constantly. We all thought that he was simply recording the games or working on his coursework. What he really was doing was diagramming plays, ones that weren’t in our playbook. Every one of them worked to perfection. We joked that the gods whispered the plays in his ears, which earned him the nickname of the Oracle.

    Meanwhile, Romo had a dogged tenacity on the field and always dug in on defense which caused us to call him the Badger. So what brings you here?

    My girlfriend,” Romo nodded towards a strikingly beautiful female Cathar, “She loves big social events and this is the biggest social event in limmie so that is why we’re here. I would love to go to the game and watch the Senators, but with us being an independent we’re not privy to tickets.

    Lucky for you we have our own box and would love for you to join us.

    You better accept the invite, Badge, she doesn’t handle rejection well.

    to be continued…
  14. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    It's Galactic Cup Final day
    Let's all shout hooray
    For the teams are going to play
    I hope you're feeling okay
    That's all the rhymes I'll say

    Bonus roll to Coruscant. Banked rolls for Bakura, Euceron, Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, Ralltiir, and Rydonni Prime.

    118th Galactic Cup Final
    Euceron Stadium, Eusebus, Euceron
    (3) Ylesia Lightning at (2) Coruscant Senators (7-3)

    Congratulations to the Ylesia Lightning, the 273 Galactic Cup of Limmie champions! The MVP of the playoffs and winner of the Numifolis Award is Kasin Urdaaza. (Seriously, check her stats out.)

    And that's a wrap on 273. We'll be getting 274 started on Tuesday. :)

    TAG: @Jedi Gunny @Rebecca_Daniels
    Last edited by Trieste, Jun 23, 2013
  15. CPL_Macja Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 29, 2008
    star 5
    IC: Setarcos Rhemes
    Eusebus, Euceron

    The 118th Galactic Cup Final was not nearly the offensive shoot out that everyone expected from two teams who averaged over 20 points per game. Going into the half neither had yet broken double digits and, as much as it pained him as a lifelong Patriots fan in the employ of the Monarchs, Setarcos hoped that Pamila Korthe was down in the Senators’ locker room lighting a fire under her players. He, and everyone else affiliated with the Solo Conference, did not want to see an expansion Skywalker Conference squad walk off with the Galactic Cup, again.

    As the half time festivities kicked off, Setarcos and Romo ventured to a table on the interior of the K’ntarr’s private box clear of anyone else. Crowley was dressed in his typical game day attire of a sport coat, solid colored button down shirt with the top few buttons undone revealing a solid colored t-shirt underneath, wire rimmed sunglasses, and slightly stubbled face.

    [IMG]

    Sorry Faye couldn’t join us, game day isn’t much her scene. Speaking of missing spectators, you seem to be light a few members of your entourage.

    Romo was referring to the noticeably absent Dawn Solo-Undolo, Lex Silas, Mia Silas, Mara Singus, Herc Tathor, Ema Zostin, and Loruna K’ntarr. Setarcos explained that Dawn, Lex, Mia, Mara, and Herc had traveled to Corellia for the Premiership Final between the Rebels and the Hapes C-Bucs. All five of them were either born on Corellia or Hapes so they couldn’t pass up an opportunity to see their “home” teams have at each other for the top spot in the PLL. Ema went back to Vulpter to watch her former Pilots teammates graduate from GVSU and Loruna had Red Wings business to attend to on Byblos.

    I see, so why don’t you tell me exactly why you invited me to your sweethearts private box. I know it wasn’t so that we could catch up on old times while your girlfriend babysits her little brother.” Romo nodded towards the opposite side of the box where Variise was keeping a close eye on Arden and Vesper. The only other occupants of the box were Kalin and Lady Thara, and they were too involved in what they were sharing with each other to care about what else was going on around them.

    Have I been that transparent? Really, I was surprised to see you last night at the awards, but as soon as I did I had a thought. Are you happy with the Sabres?

    You know, for a journalist, you sure don’t mince words.” Romo grinned, but it faded quickly. “To be honest with you, I’ve been envious of you. In just a few short years you’ve gone from writing about premier limmie to coaching and managing an elite limmie squad. Meanwhile I have been stuck in the Premier League, getting passed over time and again for a promotion to the Big Dance. Don’t get me wrong Arco, I love the organization, the Trieste’s were great to work for, but they aren’t in charge any more, and without a direct ELL affiliate, the likelihood I’ll get promoted to an Elite squad is slim.

    Setarcos felt bad for his friend, “How much longer do you have on your contract?

    One year.

    A grin curled the left corner of Setarcos’ lips, “Think you can tolerate it for that much longer?

    Before Romo could answer Varisse was standing over Setarcos’ shoulder, “Sorry to interrupt the reunion boys. Setarcos I just wanted to let you know that after the match I’ve been summoned to a Board of Governors meeting and would like you to accompany me.” Variise turned back around to find her brother and Vesper slipping out of the box. She rushed to the door but it closed before she could see which direction they headed.

    Romo just chuckled and slightly shook his head, “You know my friend, I think one year will be long enough.

    TAG: @Trieste (for general GM stuff, mentioning his team and family, and the BoG meeting)
  16. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    IC: Dirxx Horstse
    Euceron Stadium, Euceron



    (Start at about 1:05 or so)

    It had been a real grind of a Galactic Cup Final. Neither team had put up any offensive movement, and the defenses had clamped down all day. Save after save were being made when the ball came near the goal, and it was just a classic defensive struggle. Dirxx was getting gassed by all the of physical plays he was having to make, but it seemed to be working against the smaller Ylesia forwards. But where in the hell were the Coruscant forwards? Shots that usually found their mark did anything but. Ylesia wasn’t that good, were they?

    He came in and made a hit on another Lightning forward, causing the ball to pop free. In came Doon’sun to pick up the ball and toss it up field, and so the ball went into the other zone. But nothing was made of the play; Moen fumbled, and the Senators turned it over yet again. Gasping for air, Dirxx settled back into his defensive stance. He shouldn’t have been tired; maybe he was just getting old.

    Then he heard the horn blare, and his eyes looked at the scoreboard. Lightning 7, Senators 3 in full time. That was it . . . his career was over. He expected to be washed in a sense of “we’ll win it all next year!”, but nothing came. Instead, it was like a black void had opened up, sucking him in. Here he was, Dirxx Horstse, former Limmie player. Just like that, his life had been fundamentally altered, and not just because of the loss.

    As usual, the Lightning dogpiled in the middle of the field, celebrating a title in their first-ever Elite League season. And across the field from them, bloody, bruised, battered, were the Senators, their black and orange uniforms stained with blood, sweat, and grass. Syprul Raches, the burly Shistavanen forward, had a small cut on his chin, which was bleeding profusely. Moen had crouched down on his legs, his head down. Polis, who had scored the only points for the Senators on an early goal, was sitting on the turf, bewildered. And there was nothing they could do.

    Or, they could at least do something. It was finally time for the Senator veterans to do one last thing as Limmie players. They had planned this for the last few weeks, ever since the chances of them even making the playoffs was in doubt. Since then, they had rolled Chandrila, tortured the Mercs, outlasted the Miners . . . things had looked so peachy coming out of the conference. And then Bam! Now the season felt hollow, like they had fallen short of their ultimate goal. For the veterans, this was their fourth Galactic Cup loss. All Limmie players dreaded the final loss of the season, when one was so close to a championship yet to have it slip through their fingers, but to have to deal with the anxiety four times was ridiculous.

    Dirxx looked down at the ground, at the field that had just seen his team lose. They had fought so hard, just to come up short in the end. To a new franchise, to boot. It seemed like that kind of bad luck followed the Senators in their fights against new teams. They had let themselves down. They had let their fans down. They had let the Solo Conference down.

    And then his conscience came into play. They had done their best. It hadn’t been enough, but they had kept it close. The Lightning may have won, but the Senators hadn’t given up. In true Coruscanti spirit, they had fought to the bitter end. In 262, after losing their first two games, they had fought tooth-and-nail to take home the title. In 266, with the abduction, they had almost pulled out the title yet again. In 269, they had a great team, and had come just short. In 270, the non-protesting players had put together a great season. Last year, they had come within a few points of making it to the title game. And they had worked hard all season, flying under the radar to almost take home their third title as a core. They hadn’t won, but it had been all they could do. No one could have asked for more, and if they did, they obviously didn’t play Limmie.

    He then looked back up at the Senator veterans, who were all staring back at him. He nodded, and the last play call Dirxx Horstse would make as a player was received by his players. Everyone reached down and untied their cleats, their mud-stained cleats that had seen so much action today. Then they took them off, one by one, until they stood on the field in their socks. Lastly, they settled in their old place on the field and deposited them there, one last monument to their work out on the field. They hadn’t been able to do this after a title, but they had come so close.

    Then they went over to congratulate the Lightning on their victory. The young team was too drunk on the win to really understand what was going on, but the Senators knew what it was. They were angry, and wanted to gut the Lightning the next time the teams played, but they couldn’t do anything now. There was no way Ylesia would win a rematch under these same conditions, but this had been their one-in-ten game, the Senators felt. They should have won, and they just had failed to execute.

    Dirxx went over and spoke to Zoa Vra, the Zabrak captain for Ylesia. She seemed so exuberant, so full of energy, compared to the grizzled old Besalisk veteran captain who had finally ran out of juice on the field. After a minute or two, the Senators then trudged back into their locker room. But instead of the stony silence that accompanied a loss, they were met by a rousing ovation from the Senator faithful who had made the trip out this far. Although their team had lost, although they felt that they should be celebrating a victory instead of tasting title-game defeat yet again, the fans still wanted to tell their heroes that their work was appreciated. As Dirxx disappeared into the team tunnel, his heart was warmed a little knowing that they had inspired people back on Coruscant. They had lost the game, but they had shown the planet, and the galaxy, that this team was for real.

    “Kinda funny knowing that this is our last game,” Polis commented.

    “Yeah,” Dirxx replied. “Now I’ll have to go get a day job.”

    “Trying to soften the blow a little bit?” Moen asked.

    “Nothing can do that fully,” Dirxx said. “But it makes me feel better than I would otherwise.”

    Outside the locker room stood one figure they all knew better than anyone. Gark S’rily, their former coach, their GM, the guy who had never given up on them, was there waiting for them. One by one, he gave the veterans a hug, finally getting to Dirxx. The two embraced.

    “It’s going to be difficult not to have you around next year,” Gark commented.

    “Oh, I’ll be around,” Dirxx said. “You have a job for me?”

    “We’ll see,” Gark said, cracking a wry grin. “I think it depends on how much I can stand your chatter.”

    “Who, me?” Dirxx asked, trying to be innocent. “I just can’t believe it’s over. I’ve worked all my life for this . . . and now, I don’t know where I want to go.”

    “Well, you can start by walking out that door,” Gark said, pointing to the door at the end of the stadium tunnel. “What you do from there is up to you.”

    “Thanks for everything,” Dirxx said.

    “Don’t mention it,” Gark replied.

    And with that, the Coruscant Senator core, the 262 title team that had shocked the Limmie world when it beat out the red-hot Kashyyyk Rangers, was now hanging up the spikes. Behind them, they left a legacy of grittiness, willingness to play through pain, teamwork, and most of all heart and passion for the game. Even though they had lost, they had revitalized a once-dead franchise; they had given Coruscant Limmie fans something to be proud of once again. Now, with the core veterans making their final walk off into the sunset, it was time for the mantle to be passed on to the younger players, the ones who were going to carry the team into the post-Horstse, post-Contar, post-Vayne era. As for the veterans, this was one final goodbye to the sport, hoping that their careers meant something. And, to the fans, to the coaching staff, and to Gark, who had watched over everything . . .

    They Had.


    TAG: No One


    Transactions:

    The Title Cast:

    Dirxx Horstse (Besalisk, Male) - retires
    Shev Fil'yer (Noghri, Male) - retires
    Lokesh Fi'lish (Bothan, Female) - retires
    Polis Vayne (Human, Male) - retires
    Syprul Raches (Shistavanen, Male) - retires
    Shayt Contar (Feeorin, Female) - retires
    Moen Heatly (Human, Male) - retires
    Laryssa Oneida (Human, Female, Midfielder) - retires
    Sheila Nightshade (Human, Female, Right Corner Back) - retires


    Saram Golyxi (Zeltron, Female) - retires due to injury
    Venn Sto (Shistavanen, Male) - retires due to injury
    Last edited by Jedi Gunny, Jun 23, 2013
  17. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    Now for something a little different, just to break the monotony. :p

    IC: Polis Vayne
    Home, Coruscant



    Polis popped another small cheese snack into his mouth as he sat on his couch. In front of him was his HoloNet screen; large, of course, so that he could play video games in high clarity. He was, as usual, playing ELL ’73 by himself. Even though he had been a Limmie player, and had often times played as himself in the game just for fun (because who wouldn’t want to see how well they could do in the virtual realm?), it was now a crutch for him. Stepping away from the game had been a hard pill to swallow, especially given how close he had been to winning a third title; for so many years he had been working on improving his game. His footwork, his shot selection, his route running . . . everything on how to be a better player had been his focus. But now that his career was over, perhaps the virtual Polis Vayne was going to have to suffice for missing out on everything that came with the Limmie offseason. At least he wouldn’t miss the weight sessions in the offseason; those had been brutal, and he always had tried to exceed expectations so that no one would think he was a slacker.

    In this particular game, he was playing as the Senators (big shock) against the Bakura Miners in Dynasty Mode. He was tearing up Ruunron each and every time down the field (so nothing had changed from the actual game between these two teams, when the exact same thing had occurred), and the Miners couldn’t stop him. A Moen Heatly pass came in and nailed virtual Polis in stride, past the defender and with a perfect shot at a goal. Using the special joystick, Polis made virtual Polis pump fake and then prepare to launch a shot into the back of the net. Virtual Anton Jorpik hadn’t stopped Polis all game here, and he never went to that area of the net even though Polis had set the difficulty to its maximum level. Perhaps he would have to call the makers of the game and tell them that they needed to work a little harder on fixing that glitch.

    Just as virtual Polis was about to throw off a shot, the doorbell rang. Polis’ fingers slipped on the joystick, and the ball went way wide of the goal. At least when it did this the ball didn’t get caught in some miraculous save by Jorpik. Polis remembered the early days of this game, back when the graphics were terrible, the scenarios were too far-fetched to be true, and the commentary . . . well, actually, the commentary back then was better. The good commentators always made humorous slams at players when they did poorly. Now they just analyzed the game in their own incessant fashion.

    Pausing the game, Polis quickly wolfed down another small cheese snack and headed to the door. He hadn’t been expecting anyone to show up today . . . who could it be? He opened the door and looked out. Outside, standing in a light brown jacket, jeans, and a Smugglers t-shirt, was Meredith Chambers. Actually, to be precise, the Meredith Chambers.

    “Hi,” she said.

    “Hi,” Polis said back. He hadn’t been expecting Meredith to show up out of the blue like this; he thought she would have called ahead of time.

    “Mind if I come in?” Meredith asked.

    “Not at all,” Polis said, swinging the door open so Meredith could enter. “Make yourself at home.” The former Smuggler goalie made her way inside and sat down on Polis’ couch – right where Polis had been sitting earlier. Polis closed the door behind him and sat down on the other end of the couch. Meredith stuck her hand in the snack bag and ate a few of the small snacks. “I didn’t know you were coming over, so I didn’t exactly have anything planned, as you can see,” Polis said, trying to make up for any negatives Meredith would find in this scenario.

    “That’s fine,” Meredith replied. “I have a habit of going where I please. Face and name recognition go a long ways.” She smirked. “What’re you up to?” she asked.

    “Playing a video game,” Polis said. He grabbed his controller.

    “Which one?” Meredith asked. She placed her legs up on the couch in a crossed pattern.

    “ELL’73,” Polis said.

    “Is that the Limmie game?” Meredith asked.

    “Yeah, it is,” Polis admitted.

    “Mind if I try?” Meredith asked. She reached out her hand for Polis’ controller.

    “Um . . . sure, go ahead,” Polis said. He walked over to the cabinet underneath the screen and pulled out another controller. It didn’t look like it was in nearly as good condition as the one he gave to Meredith. That was due to him frequently inviting his Senator teammates over for some Limmie matches on the game, and when Shayt Contar got annoyed, she could really grip the controller and make it start to warp. But at least it still worked, so Polis activated the controller and sat down on the couch next to Meredith.

    “You in the middle of a game?” Meredith asked.

    “Yeah, but I can get out of it,” Polis said. He exited the game after saving, causing the game to go back to its Main Menu. “Ever play this game before?”

    “No, but I think being a goalie counts for something,” Meredith said, winking.

    “Want me to take it easy on you?” Polis asked.

    “Don’t. I prefer the challenge,” Meredith said.

    Polis opened up a Quick Play match, and chose the Senators. Meredith, obviously, took the Smugglers. When the game started, Meredith commented how badly her face was disfigured in the graphics engine. Both got a laugh out of thinking about how virtual Chambers didn’t come anywhere near Meredith in real life. The game began, and Polis instantly came up the field with a traditional Senators attack pattern. He was at the top of the key and caught a pass; it was like the play he was making against Jorpik in the other game. Top of the net to the left, goalie frozen, goal Coruscant.

    But the ball never made it. Virtual Chambers out of nowhere to make the save. Polis was shocked, but Meredith was eating it up. Time and again, Polis’ offensive series were shut down by Meredith and her avatar. On the other end, the Smugglers were lighting up the Senators in comparison, even though the game was only 5-1 at halftime. Meredith then kept the clamp down on Polis the rest of the game, finishing Nar Shaddaa 7, Coruscant 4.

    “I let you win,” Polis said after the game finished.

    “Of course you did,” Meredith said. She leaned over and gave Polis a quick kiss on the cheek, which the former forward did not mind in the slightest. It looked like both of them had gotten over the nerves of their first kiss on that date two weeks earlier on the liner. “What else does this game have?”

    “Dynasty mode,” Polis offered.

    “What’s that?”

    “You build your team, and then you play through their seasons,” Polis said. “Basically your stats actually count for something.”

    “That’s it?” Meredith asked.

    “Yeah. Why?” Polis asked.

    “You mind if we start one?” Meredith asked.

    “Not at all,” Polis said. “What team do you want to play? Actually, don’t answer that, because I already know.”

    “Of course you do,” Meredith said.

    “There’s an option for us to create our own custom team,” Polis said.

    “I’ll be here for a while, so let’s do that,” Meredith said.

    “What would we call them?” Polis asked.

    “How about the . . . hm . . . Nar . . . Naruscant . . . yeah, the Naruscant Smugators.”

    “Did you just do what I think you did?” Polis asked.

    “Of course,” Meredith said. “Because I’m Meredith Chambers. Logic and reason don’t hold a candle to me.”

    “And I take it that the team colors will be burgundy and orange?” Polis asked, a smirk on his face.

    “I’ve never really liked orange . . . but sure, why not?” Meredith said.

    Polis made these entries in the boxes, and the Smugators were created. He then created a quick custom stadium for his team, and then it came to replacing a team. In order to be fair, Polis and Meredith agreed to remove both of their former teams so that they wouldn’t have to feel bad beating up on them. The Smugators and Corellia Rebels would be the new teams in the league. Now they had to build a roster.

    “Since only one of us is on the default roster, I’ll have to go to Fantasy Draft,” Polis commented. If they were going to create a league that both would play it, it made sense to have their own virtual selves out there.

    “Sounds . . . exciting, I guess?” Meredith asked, bewildered. “I have no idea what that is.”

    “It’s quite simple. All of the players in the game are placed into a draft pool, and then the entire league goes through a drafting process to fill their 30-player rosters. Basically, it means I can draft anyone I want to our team.”

    “But you’ll draft us first?” Meredith asked, looking at Polis with an icy stare.

    “Of course,” Polis said. “I just make sure we start off with the first pick . . . there, now we begin.” He flipped through the position lists, familiar names flashing by. Then he landed on goalies. Meredith was up there at #2 on the list, after Zeke Barbosa.

    “That’s outrageous,” Meredith commented. “I’m the second-best goalie in the league?”

    “Not really,” Polis said. “They come up with a rating somewhere from 0 to 99. You’ve been given lower overall scores the last few years . . .”

    “I don’t like that,” Meredith said, pouting.

    “Eh, don’t let it bother you,” Polis said. “You’re better than Barbosa anyways.” He selected her and drafted the virtual Chambers as the first player in the history of the Naruscant Smugators. The other teams picked their players, and then the Smugators were up again with the first pick in the second round. There Polis was, at the top of the list. It was an easy decision, and the Smugators added Polis to the roster. Meredith then leaned over on Polis’ shoulder, content that at least both of them were on the roster. The players that followed more of a potpourri style than anything, but both players knew who would fit into a particular system on both offense and defense, so what looked like questionable picks actually turned out to be the best-rated team in the league.

    When the draft was completed, the preseason began, and after that the season. But nothing could stop the Smugators . . . they routed all of their competition time and again. With the real Meredith controlling virtual Meredith, and Polis for virtual Polis, the Smugators rolled in every game. Down went the Miners, the Mercs, the Storm, the Patriots . . . it was a real rout. As the hours flew past, both of the former players found intense glee in beating up on the virtual representations of players they knew.

    Finally, after completing the entire regular season in 273, and realizing what time it was, Polis placed his controller down on the side of the couch. “Have fun?” he asked.

    “Lots,” Meredith said. “We should do this again sometime.”

    “Sometime soon,” Polis corrected her.

    “Sometime soon,” Meredith replied, a hint of a smile on her face. She looked up at Polis, and he looked back at her. But there was no hesitation this time around. “Very soon,” she said quietly. The two kissed for several seconds, and then Meredith stood up. “I’ll see you around.”

    “Likewise,” Polis said. He opened the door so that Meredith could walk out, and then closed it behind her. For what had started out as a typical boring day, this had been quite the opposite.


    TAG: No One, although I know @Vehn likes this one
    jcgoble3 and Vehn like this.
  18. Vehn Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 14, 2009
    star 4
    IC: Meredith Chambers

    The Wedding, Some Time After the 273 Final, Undisclosed Location



    Today was the day.

    Today was the day that she was getting married.

    She was more nervous on this day than she had ever been in her life. The eyes of the galaxy had watched her play her heart out for over a decade and she had been as cold as ice. Now, she could barely keep her emotions in check as the butterflies flew through her stomach, teasing and tormenting her. She was not filled with doubt. No, she had chosen wisely. But she was filled with the great unknown of married life, of dedicating her love to someone and never failing them, of hoping that her love would stand the test of time, would last the ages.

    Polis and Meredith had chosen an outdoor wedding for their venue. The air was crisp, clear, full of the song of birds, lush with the smells of the outdoors, and not too hot. The flowers were in full bloom, everything had been arranged perfectly, now, all that needed to be done was for a great ceremony to take place between the two former Limmie greats, a union of rivals into a team of legends.

    Escorted by her father, Meredith eyed up the fairly sizeable crowd of friends, family, and a few people that she was certain hadn’t been invited. Slowly, as the wedding music played its delicate course, she came down the aisle, received a reassuring smile from her maid of honor Sasha Luy’kin, her old standby, her right hand gal. That smile helped her relax, settle into the moment, as her eyes at last rested on her soon to be husband, Polis Vayne, waiting patiently under the canopy they had built together. He was accompanied by good friend Dirxx Horstse who looked quite nice himself despite the fact it must’ve taken him awhile to find appropriately fitting formal attire.

    Meredith, her long train flowing behind her, felt her father kiss her on the cheek as he handed her off to Polis. The three of them held hands for a lingering moment, an exchange of blessings, an exchange of thanks, an exchange of love. She smiled at her father, the man she had forgiven, the man she had grown to love, the man who was doing his best to right past wrongs. She whispered a quiet thank you to him as she settled in next to Polis.

    Polis leaned over to Meredith and whispered, “I must be dreaming, I can’t believe this is happening, you look so beautiful.”

    Meredith playfully pinched him on the arm and replied, “Believe it, Vayne. Besides if we are dreaming, I don’t want to wake up anytime soon.”

    He smiled and gave her a quiet squeeze with his hand as the ceremony began. Words of wisdom, and of love, were exchanged, as were the rings, and as she went deeper into the ceremony, Meredith relaxed, felt more at ease, knew that she had chosen well and that Polis would be a good husband for her. True love went beyond words, beyond actions, it was something you felt, it was something you knew, and she knew she had something special with him.

    “Do you, Meredith Chambers, take Polis Vayne to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor, respect, and cherish, all the days of your life?”

    This was the moment. There was no turning back. There was no running away. There was nothing but a future together forward, hands linked, facing the storms of life, facing the good times, and the bad, creating a family, living together, cheering on different Limmie squads, agreeing to disagree, and loving so deeply that not even the galaxy tearing itself asunder would destroy them.

    This was the man that she had chosen, her champion, her hero, her love. He had been a former rival, former competitor, and former enemy, and that was all gone now. Now, she loved him more than she ever realized she could love another person. Now, she understood what the beauty of life was all about, finding that special someone, and sharing the journey of life together. Today, she knew happiness, today she knew peace, today she knew that everything that had happened before had led her to this moment, to this very spot, to the safety of his embrace, his love.

    Between them, Meredith quickly calculated, the two had 5 Galactic Cup titles, 10 Galactic Cup Final Appearances, 5 Salbukk Awards, 3 Numifolis Awards, 1 Duchess Eldin, and 1 Zumtak, but all those shiny toys in the trophy case paled in comparison to this moment, this experience.

    “I do,” Meredith replied with a beaming smile.

    “And do you, Polis Vayne, take Meredith Chambers to be your lawfully wedded wife to love, honor, respect, and cherish, all the days of your life?”

    Polis looked deep into Meredith’s eyes, into her soul, into that place that only he could go. Looking at her now, in that beautiful wedding dress, before friends and family, before the entire galaxy, he could proudly proclaim that he loved her and would do well by her until his last breath escaped his lips.

    “I do.”





    “Then, with the powers invested in me by the owners of the Coruscant Senators and the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers, and by the most glorious Maker, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the minister said and then leaned in to Polis, “and for Maker’s sake, man, kiss the bride!”

    Polis needed no further encouragement and Meredith was not going to hold back, public spectacle be damned. The pair practically leaped into one another’s arms, kissing as passionately, as sincerely, as joyfully as any couple on their day of nuptials ought to do. The crowd cheered, whistled, and snapped lots of photos, everyone already speculating when there would be little Limmie stars running around.

    Meredith was all smiles as she walked back down the aisle. This was truly the happiest day of her life. No matter what anybody told you, and winning Galactic Cup trophies is a great experience, there’s nothing like getting married because for one day, and one day alone, the beauty of the world is at your fingertips and there is a magic in the air that can never be fractured, not by anyone, not by anything.

    Old hatreds are set aside as people are united in love for a couple sharing a union that goes beyond words and resonates at the deepest level.

    The newlywed couple stood off to one side as a long line of people came to congratulate them on their wedding. Sasha, then Dirxx, then Moen Heatly, Helena Forsythe, and so on and so forth, all people who had impacted one or both of their lives in some meaningful way. Alana Glencross and Corrie Andersen were there, looking absolutely delightful in summer dresses that reflected their finer features.

    “You chose well, Meredith. Took one of the best looking men off the market,” Glencross said, “I suppose now would be the time to congratulate you and wish you both many years of happiness together. I’m going to miss you out there on the pitch, miss you both.”

    “Thanks, Red,” Meredith said as she embraced her friend. “And I have a feeling you won’t miss me too much when you’re scoring points for your team.”

    Glencross laughed and moved on to embrace Polis and exchange a few friendly words.

    Meredith looked away from the direction of the line and saw Corrie Andersen standing off to one side, looking a little sheepish, a little humbled, a little out of place.

    “Hey, Andersen!” Meredith called, waving her over.

    The two had never really seen eye to eye during their time as teammates on the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. Their disagreements over team philosophy had nearly led to a physical altercation at one point and any threads of friendship between them had been absolutely severed when the Smugglers traded Andersen to the Miners. Andersen had always felt that Chambers was responsible for the trade and had taken the long road to forgiveness.

    Corrie looked at Meredith, held back a bit, and then came over, surprised at the attention.

    “Meredith,” Corrie said.

    “Don’t be distant,” Meredith said and opened her arms for a hug.

    Cautiously, as if feeling that Meredith was a poisonous snake about to strike the killing blow, Andersen reciprocated the hug.

    “So very glad you could make it today,” Meredith said.

    “Thanks. I, uh, well, congratulations to the both of you. I have a feeling you’ll be very happy with one another,” Andersen fumbled.

    Meredith felt like she needed to clear the air with Corrie. There might not be another time for this.

    “Listen, I hope you don’t blame me for the Smugglers trading you away. I had nothing to do with that, Corrie. I know we didn’t see eye to eye but I would never have wanted you traded, not when you
    helped the offense out so much. I’m sorry you left.”

    Andersen looked down at the ground, pawed something with her dress shoe, and looked back up at Meredith. “You know, I’ve thought for years all the nasty things I could say to you about the day I found out I was traded. And now, on this beautiful day,” she stopped, wiped away a tear, “can we just forget about it? Can we just move forward with our lives? It doesn’t matter anymore anyways, right?”

    “Sounds good to me,” Meredith replied.

    “Really, I mean it. You two take care of each other. Best of luck,” Andersen said before walking off with Glencross.

    “What was that all about?” Polis asked.

    “Water under the bridge, my love, water under the bridge,” Meredith replied.

    When at long last the endless line of guests had moved on to dinner, Meredith leaned on her husband’s reassuring chest and held tight as the photographer drooled over the photogenic couple.

    The photos would circulate far and wide in all the great news outlets as the wedding between Polis Vayne and Meredith Chambers took on epic proportions. Articles that were run on the couple remained at the top of readership lists for months after the special day. Somebody, somewhere, had figured out that Limmie stars and weddings made a fantastic combination. Besides, the revenue was off the charts.

    Now they were alone on the dance floor, the space around them darkened, out of sight, out of mind, as the saying went on Nar Shaddaa.

    Meredith looked up at her champion and said, “All I can give you is love, Polis. All I can promise you is my undying support and devotion. From this day forward, you’ve got me by your side.”

    Polis smiled, kissed Meredith lightly on the lips, and replied, “And the same for you, Meredith.”

    Meredith pulled away from Polis, leaving him alone on the dance floor, this drew some laughs. She returned with a microphone and addressed the crowd, saying, “This goes out to my hero.”



    Polis blushed, laughed, as the song came on. This was their song.

    “You didn’t.”

    Meredith smiled and replied, “I did.”

    And they danced their socks off that night. They danced for past glories, for their future together, for all the right reasons.

    They danced for love. People who saw them knew what love was, knew what passion was, and knew that some things in this galaxy were meant to be.

    Tag: @Trieste, @Jedi Gunny et al.
    OOC: Special permission to use Polis Vayne given by Jedi Gunny and special permission to use Alana Glencross and Corrie Andersen given by Trieste. Many thanks to both of you.
    Last edited by Vehn, Jun 24, 2013
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  19. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    IC: Gark S’rily
    Team HQ, Coruscant. Week After Galactic Cup Final



    Gark walked up to the podium in the theater attached to the Senators’ Team HQ building. He had hated to be dressed up in a suit for this occasion, but Me’lin had scoffed when he had hinted at going in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. “You need to look presentable”, she had said; well, given how Gark had never quite played dress-up well in his life, he just felt uncomfortable in this formalwear. It restricted his freedom, he theorized. It was like trying to “tame” a wild Gundark by making it wear a straightjacket. No, this was not his cup of tea.

    “I want to thank you all for coming out here today,” Gark began. He looked over the audience, some two hundred people strong. Most of them were media members; not the pushy kinds, but instead just the writers who usually attended the press conferences. Others were team members, the players who had been invited to come out here. Team staffers were also in attendance, although very few of them were here. “Today, we will add some new names to the team Hall of Fame. The Hall of Fame, for those of you who do not know of its existence, enshrines the best Senator players from the illustrious 300-year history of this team. And today, new names will be added to the list, to be remembered in the future by the next generations of Senators. I want to invite each one of the inductees up here one by one.

    First off, she was one of the best field generals we could have ever asked for. She never shied down from making a pass, and always kept the forward line in play. The first inductee for the 274 class of the Senators Hall of Fame is Lokesh Fil’ish.” The Bothan Center Half Forward came up and had her photo taken, along with a framed number “14” jersey with her name on the back that she had worn during her career.

    “Second, this forward was a real beast in the offensive zone, and gave defenders fits every game. He never gave up despite multiple injuries, and was always the security blanket when the other options were covered while on offense. Oh, and coining a new offensive term and winning a Numifolis Award also help. Get up here, Syprul Raches.” The Shistavanen full forward came up and received his number “27” jersey.

    “This guy never gave up on defense, no matter what the score. He constituted one third of a vaunted defensive trio, using his size to make major hits and cause havoc. The third inductee is Shev Fil’yer.” The Noghri full back came up to receive his framed jersey, the number “6”.

    “Fourth, this defender was always tough-as-nails. Even though she could be a handful at times when voicing her opinion, she was a great player. We’re going to miss her out there in the defensive corner. Come up here, Shayt Contar.” The Feeorin corner back received her “42” jersey.

    “This man, simply put, did it all on the field. He was assistant captain for many years, was our team leader in points scored the last few seasons, and certainly put a scare into the all-time team leaders for major offensive categories. He won 2 Salbukk Awards for good measure. The fifth inductee in 274 is Polis Vayne.” Polis received his “15” jersey, and got a good ovation from the crowd.

    “Lastly, I have a guy who was the name of this franchise for a long time. He helped win games with his play, but made things interesting with his huge grin. He was nominated for a Duchess Eldin Award; he didn’t win, but I think he’d rather take two Galactic Cup titles over that. Your retiring team captain, the sixth and last inductee this season: Dirxx Horstse.” The crowd went wild as the Besalisk half back lumbered up to the stage to receive his “12” jersey.

    When Dirxx had left the stage, Gark returned to the podium. “Having your number retired is a huge honor in all sports. Over the years, this franchise has bestowed this honor on many individuals. Some of them are sport Hall of Fame members, others enshrined here in the team Hall. But all of them meant a lot to this franchise, and today their numbers and memories will be joined by new inductees to this exclusive club. Today, I would like to announce that some numbers will from now on be retired by the Coruscant Senators Limmie club. The numbers 6, 12, 15, and 42 will now be retired forever more.” There was a round of applause for the four new retired numbers. “These numbers will be added to the stadium display during the offseason, and then we will have a formal ceremony at the home opener of the 274 Elite League season. Congratulations to our new Hall of Fame inductees, and to those who have had their numbers retired.”


    TAG: No One
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  20. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post

    Elite League Limmie 274: Everything Old is New Again

    Elite League offices, Coruscant

    Niakara Kayl’hen usually didn’t need a moment before meeting the galactic media. She knew how to handle them and always did deftly and adeptly, but this time was different. This was one of the biggest press conferences she’d ever give.

    “Whatever happens, whatever they say, you did the right thing for the League,” Esther Gondorf said from behind the Commissioner.

    “I know. Why isn’t the right thing easier to do?” the Commissioner mused.

    “I intend to ask the Maker whenever we meet,” Esther said.

    The Bothan pursed her lips in thought. She then relaxed her body as much as she could and strove into the press briefing room as casually as she could.

    Fly casual, she thought.

    “Good morning everyone,” Kayl’hen said, stepping up to the lectern that bore the Elite League shield on it, “As you are all aware, yesterday, the League Board of Governors met. I would like to take a moment to thank all of the teams for attending, especially those owners who came in person for the daylong meetings. I realize that for several owners this represented a significant amount of time that was set aside from already busy schedules.

    “The League is pleased to announce that the Board of Governors took significant steps to address the long-term health of the Elite League. The measures that were debated and voted on yesterday were all designed to ensure a financially viable option for the Elite League moving forward.

    “First of all, the Elite League is sad to announce that the Onderon Crazy Dragons and Vandelhelm Jets have been demoted from the Elite League.”

    The reporters scribbled furiously. Vandelhelm, the bright spot in the Skywalker Conference, gone! Onderon, a promising team that took home a Commissioner’s Trophy, also demoted!

    “After extensive debate by the Board of Governors and careful examination of the financial particulars related to their membership, it was determined that it was in the best interest of the League to demote these two teams,” Kayl’hen said.

    “To take their place, the Elite League has accepted for promotion from Premier League Limmie both Premiership Finalists: the Corellia Rebels and the Hapes Consortium Buccaneers,” Kayl’hen announced. Logos for each team showed up on the vidscreens to either side of the Commissioner. “Corellia, as you know, is one of the most storied bolo-ball programs in the galaxy and has long expressed an interest in returning to the Elite League. The Hapes Consortium Buccaneers were one of the most dynamic teams in the Premier League last year, fitting the historic standard for promotion that the League has had for in bringing new teams into the Elite League—not to mention winners of the Premiership. Furthermore, these two teams bring large fanbases into the League that will result in a net gain for all teams in terms of broadcasting rights and ticket sales.

    “The Board of Governors has also announced a new conference alignment starting in the 274 season.”

    There were murmurs in the room from the reporters. Conference realignment? That meant that someone would be leaving the Solo Conference and its web of rivalries. This was going to be big. Fingers were poised over datapads to record the news.

    The vidscreens then showed the new conferences, the Skywalker Conference to the left of Kayl’hen and the Solo Conference to the right.

    Skywalker Conference
    • Corellia Rebels
    • Euceron Storm
    • Mando'ade Mercs
    • Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    • Ryloth Rough Riders
    • Ylesia Lightning
    Solo Conference
    • Bakura Miners
    • Chandrila Patriots
    • Coruscant Senators
    • Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
    • Ralltiir Starkillers
    • Rydonni Prime Monarchs
    The room exploded with questions. Nar Shaddaa and Mando’ade out of the Solo Conference! Impossible!

    “Before I take any questions, allow me to finish,” Kayl’hen said, holding her hands up, “Financially, this is the best model for the League moving forward and the Board of Governors understands this. While it is regrettable that realignment was required, the Board agreed that the Skywalker Conference needed marquee teams to help make the Conference stable. After thorough discussion by the Board, this conference alignment was deemed to be the best.

    “The Board has also voted to expand non-conference play to four games. This will give each team one more home game and one more road game each season. I would like to credit the Euceron Storm, specifically general manager Dr. Aebett Zargana for this idea. The expanded non-conference schedule will help to preserve some of the rivalry games that this realignment would have otherwise disrupted. This change will generate more revenue for the League in both Holonet rights and in ticket sales. I think fans will agree that the more limmie, the better, so really this is a win, win, and win again situation.

    “Finally, the Board of Governors approved a minor rule change regarding jerseys. In the past two seasons, a few teams have chosen to wear home uniforms during away games at high profile events. The penalty for doing so was the forfeiture of one time out per half. The Board has approved that this penalty may be waived if the head coach of both teams participating in the match agree. If the home team does not agree, the penalty will stand. The League will continue to insist that the uniforms of each team be markedly different in color so as to avoid confusion between both teams.

    “That concludes the report on yesterday’s Board of Governors meeting. I will now take a few questions.”

    “Commissioner,” one reporter said, jumping out ahead of his colleagues, “This realignment destroys the guaranteed rivalry games that were in the Solo Conference. Isn’t that going to hurt the overall Holonet ratings of the League?”

    “We’re confident we’re going to see gains from higher Skywalker Conference games to make up for any lost viewership. In fact, some of our models have even higher overall viewership as a whole,” Kayl’hen said.

    “Commissioner, did the Smugglers and Mercs go willingly to the Skywalker Conference?”

    “As I said earlier, the Board of Governors resolved that this was the best of available options for the League. Every team is going to benefit from this. The Smugglers and Mercs are going to be marquee teams for the Conference and really inject a spark in terms of competition level and also be big media draws there. I think that sellouts for both those teams on the road are very easily attainable for host teams.”

    “Let’s talk nine game schedule, Commissioner. Was there consultation with player representatives? Are they demanding salary adjustments now that they’ll be expected to play an extra two games each season?”

    “As you know, the League has no collective bargaining agreement with the players. Teams will be left to make individual agreements with their players. However, the Board of Governors in principle agreed to support an increase in player salaries across the board, which are justified by the longer schedule and higher revenues we expect. In fact, the League has already modified the entry-level salary minimums for players taken in the 274 Draft and later,” Kayl’hen said, “We recognize that the players are a large part of the success of limmie and we want to partner with them as much as possible going forward. This is not a zero sum game.”

    “Commissioner, how did the individual teams vote on these changes?”

    “Votes of the Board of Governors are confidential,” Kayl’hen said, “That will be my last question for today. Thank you.”



    274 Season Schedule

    Week 1
    Coruscant Senators at Mando’ade Mercs
    Chandrila Patriots at Corellia Rebels
    Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Euceron Storm
    Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Ryloth Rough Riders
    Bakura Miners at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    Ralltiir Starkillers at Ylesia Lightning

    Week 2
    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Coruscant Senators
    Corellia Rebels at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
    Ryloth Rough Riders at Ralltiir Starkillers
    Euceron Storm at Bakura Miners
    Ylesia Lightning at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
    Mando’ade Mercs at Chandrila Patriots

    Week 3
    Coruscant Senators at Euceron Storm
    Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Mando’ade Mercs
    Chandrila Patriots at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    Bakura Miners at Ylesia Lightning
    Ralltiir Starkillers at Corellia Rebels
    Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Ryloth Rough Riders

    Week 4
    Ylesia Lightning at Coruscant Senators
    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
    Corellia Rebels at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
    Ryloth Rough Riders at Bakura Miners
    Euceron Storm at Chandrila Patriots
    Mando’ade Mercs at Ralltiir Starkillers

    Week 5
    Corellia Rebels at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    Ryloth Rough Riders at Euceron Storm
    Mando’ade Mercs at Ylesia Lightning
    Ralltiir Starkillers at Rydonni Prime Monarchs
    Coruscant Senators at Bakura Miners
    Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Chandrila Patriots

    Week 6
    Euceron Storm at Corellia Rebels
    Ylesia Lightning at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    Mando’ade Mercs at Ryloth Rough Riders
    Coruscant Senators at Ralltiir Starkillers
    Bakura Miners at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
    Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Chandrila Patriots

    Week 7
    Ylesia Lightning Ryloth Rough Riders
    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Euceron Storm
    Corellia Rebels at Mando’ade Mercs
    Ralltiir Starkillers at Bakura Miners
    Rydonni Prime Monarchs at Hapes Consortium Buccaneers
    Chandrila Patriots at Coruscant Senators

    Week 8
    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers at Ryloth Rough Riders
    Euceron Storm at Mando’ade Mercs
    Corellia Rebels at Ylesia Lightning
    Chandrila Patriots at Bakura Miners
    Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Ralltiir Starkillers
    Coruscant Senators at Rydonni Prime Monarchs

    Week 9
    Ryloth Rough Riders at Corellia Rebels
    Mando’ade Mercs at Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    Euceron Storm at Ylesia Lightning
    Chandrila Patriots at Ralltiir Starkillers
    Hapes Consortium Buccaneers at Coruscant Senators
    Bakura Miners at Rydonni Prime Monarchs

    OOC: There are four issues that your team can take a stand on at the Board of Governors meeting (which will be revealed after the fact in a post I am putting together.) They are 1) the removal of Onderon and Vandelhelm from the League, 2) the promotion of Corellia and Hapes, 3) the conference realignment revealed in this thread, and 4) the expansion of the season to 9 games by adding two more non-conference games. I suspect that the third issue will be the most divisive one and where most of you will want to record your votes with me via PM. (I am assuming that the fifth measure passed by the Board about two teams wearing home jerseys will be uncontroversial and unanimously passed, but feel free to sound off on that too if you want.) The post that will reveal all of your votes will be made no later than a week from today.

    TAG: @Bardan_Jusik @CPL_Macja @jcgoble3 @Jedi Gunny @JM_1977 @Rebecca_Daniels @Runjedirun @Vehn
    Last edited by Trieste, Jun 25, 2013
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  21. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post
    --Transaction Wire--
    Nar Shaddaa Smugglers
    • Sasha Luy'kin (Bothan, Female, Left Corner Back, Nar Shaddaa Smugglers) resigned to a minimum veteran contract.
    TAG: @Vehn
  22. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    And @Trieste thought he was the only one who could play this game. [face_mischief]

    IC: Izzi Polakaya
    Forrest Heights, Coruscant

    Izzi strode down the main drag in Forrest Heights, taking a long look at the buildings on either side of the campus. It had been a few years since she had wrapped up her coaching career here at the Coruscant Polytechnic Institute, but she still remembered it quite well. This was pressing business for the team, and she was the best one qualified to do it.

    She wandered into the athletic building, which was past the engineering building and the library, down the block from the covered stadium for indoor sporting events (because Mean Green Stadium was for outdoor events). Although the paint looked a little older, nothing was out of place here. The Golden Datapad sat in its holder, the trophy of beating the College of Fondordelphia during the season, but the other two were empty. The Green-Hawk Cup, the trophy at the Air Fleet Academy, and the trophy for the Battle for the Capital, whatever it was, because Izzi couldn’t quite remember, was at the U of C campus, taken in the Week two showdown between the two teams. She had heard that Martin Locke, the head coach she had been working for, had been on the hot seat this year, and had failed to get the Mean Green into the playoffs. Was he still coaching here, or had Nagel Brampton, the AD, moved on from Martin and was looking for a replacement?

    She pushed open the doors to the weight room, as she had back in 270 when she had first been hired on as coach. But, instead of being greeted by Gayla Renhorn’s blasting music, instead she just saw two players in there, working out on the bench press. She could see Alyda Hovechar, who had been a freshman midfielder when Izzi was coaching, sitting there on one of the benches, next to Jimma Yolpa, the Miraluka forward who had been on the bench in 270 and 271. It was obvious that they were chatting about something, but both turned to look at the newcomer in the room.

    “Well, if it isn’t our old coach,” Alyda said.

    “Good to see you as well, Alyda,” Izzi said. “I take it that you’ve gotten better since I was coaching you?”

    “Of course,” Alyda said. “You taught me quite a bit, so I’d like to think I’m better. Anyways, why are you here?”

    “I’m here to talk to some of your old teammates,” Izzi said. “Team stuff.”

    “You offering some contracts?” Alyda asked.

    “Can’t do that,” Izzi said. “I’m not going to get the team into a mess with the governing bodies that be, so I’m just sending the message along. Nothing more.”

    “Very tempting offer,” Alyda said.

    “Do you know where everyone else is?” Izzi asked.

    “Probably hanging out somewhere in the building,” Alyda said, shrugging. “I’m just working out to kill it at the combine.”

    “You enter the draft?” Izzi asked. She was somewhat disappointed, but if Alyda had decided to take her chances there, then so be it. She had obviously earned it.

    “Yeah, just sent in my name a week or so ago,” Alyda replied. “They responded with an invite to a local combine, so I’m trying my hardest to get noticed. We didn’t exactly do so hot this season, so I’m trying to prove I’ve still got it.”

    “I wouldn’t worry about it too badly,” Izzi said. “You’ve moved on pretty well from that . . . event . . . haven’t you?”

    Alyda’s face darkened a bit. “No, I’ll never move on from that,” she said. “But I’ve been using that as inspiration to be a better player. I think Laurn would have wanted that.” She was referring to her roommate, who had been killed in the 270 mass murder at the campus that had also permanently ended the career of teammate Aric LyGrand. Aric, a promising full back, had been cut down that day by an errant blaster shot, and was now paralyzed from the neck down. Izzi hadn’t spoken to him in a while, so she didn’t know if he was still paralyzed, or had some movement back in his body. But she vividly remembered the terrified look on Alyda’s face back then; she had been a freshman back then in her first few weeks of college, and then that happened. It had taken a tandem effort by Izzi, Martin, Gayla, and her roommate Reena Wyley, who was now Izzi’s teammate on Coruscant, to calm her down. It looked as if Alyda had moved on from that, although it still bothered her quite a bit to have to remember the painful experience she had gone through.

    “Well, I’ll probably see you at the next level,” Izzi said.

    “Count on it,” Alyda said. “But I won’t take it easy on you.”

    “If you do, you’re going to hear about it,” Izzi said back. The two embraced each other, and Izzi finally left the weight room, letting the two seniors continue their workout.

    It took a while, but she was finally able to round up some of her old players. Mavrin Cancatch, Brancko Nagriski, Alex Renhorn (who hadn’t played here when Izzi was around, but if she was half as good as her sister, then she would be a good one to talk to), and Malida Worody. She had found out that Rann Gorlo, the Iktochi forward, and Max Grap, the Devaronian corner back who had also been injured in that shooting, had filed the paperwork to be entered into the draft. But the players in front of her hadn’t yet; she was just in time.

    “So you’re probably all wondering why I called you in here today,” Izzi said.

    “You’re here to offer us a contract?” Alex asked inquisitively.

    “Unfortunately, I can’t offer specific terms,” Izzi said. She then placed down a sound recorder on the table for all four students to see. “This item right here is recording our little session so that I can prove that no terms were offered in case the powers that be think we’ve broken a few rules here. The last thing we need is a lawsuit.” She thumbed the button, causing it to begin recording.

    “Now, I have been instructed by the team that they are interested in talking terms with you on contracts if you decide to stay out of the upcoming draft.”

    “The Draft pays nicely,” Mavrin said. “I’m not trying to be rude . . .”

    “You’re asking why you should opt out of the Draft?” Izzi asked. Mavrin nodded. “Well, given how badly this season went for you guys, it might be difficult to crack the top rankings and get a decent shot at being drafted. Some draft picks on the rankings board don’t even get signed, so there is a lot of risk in case your names don’t appear on it.”

    “That’s true,” Alex said.

    “Now, since I can’t offer you terms on contracts, I can only gauge interest,” Izzi said. “How interested are any of you four in pursuing contract negotiations with the Senators?”

    Mavrin didn’t look very interested, but the others nodded.

    “Mavrin, any thoughts?” Izzi asked.

    “I’m just not really sure I want to go pro,” he said. “I’ve got my degree, and a decent job lined up after I leave college. I just don’t know if I want to risk not being signed and then blow this chance.”

    “I can’t force you to do something you don’t want to do,” Izzi said.

    “Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to decline,” Mavrin said.

    “Understood,” Izzi said. Mavrin stood up. “You’re a good player, Mavrin. It was nice having you on defense back in 270.”

    “Thanks, Coach,” Mavrin said, a grin on his face. “I just figured it was time to move on, that’s all. Nothing against you or any of my teammates.”

    “None taken,” Izzi said. “Keep in touch, all right?”

    “Will do,” Mavrin said. He then left the room.

    “I have a question for you,” Malida asked. The Togruta team captain had all the tools to be a serviceable Limmie player down the road. “What are our odds of making the big club out of training camp if we sign?”

    “That will depend on how well you do in camp,” Izzi said. “There will be a lot of competition, but I think it’ll be worth your while to give it a shot. If you don’t make it, you’ll definitely be starters on the Thyferra Force, one of the premier D-League teams, and get coaching from some of my former teammates down there. Jed’s a good guy to learn the finer points of being a forward, and Cam, even though I didn’t get to know him as a player, should be a fine O. Cord. So there’s still plenty of room to work in, and if you’re in the system for a year or two, you’ll definitely have a chance to crack the big club roster.”

    “I’m interested, but I’d like to think I’m good enough to start out at the Elite League level,” Malida said. “How much different is it from the college game?”

    “Night and day difference,” Izzi said. “It’s a real grind out there every game, and you won’t be beating up on college reserves out there. Everyone in that league is a pro, and are the best in the galaxy. So you’ll have to really work for it out there to earn your keep. But I have faith in all of you to be able to make it someday; maybe not this next season, but at some point down the road.”

    “Why should we sign with Coruscant, especially if we don’t make the team out of camp?” Malida then asked.

    “Because you want to represent your hometown team?” Izzi asked. “Because your parents and friends can see you play? Because we’re offering you a chance to play for us immediately?”

    “Now you’re talking,” Malida said.

    “All I can say is that we have four forward spots open for next year, at the very least,” Izzi said. “We have some players from Thyferra to plug the gaps, but you never know. Given your skill set, I think you can make the roster Day One, Malida.” The Togruta grinned; this was the kind of news she had been waiting for.

    “Alex, I don’t know you very well, if at all,” Izzi said. “But I take it that you’d like to be a scorer at the next level?”

    “That would be great, but I’ll do whatever I need to in order to make it. I just want to play Elite League ball,” Alex said.

    “Brancko, we could definitely use another full back after this season,” Izzi said. “Maybe not this next season, but I think you’re better than the other full backs in the system. Another thing I want to bring up is that you will get to play with me, with Reena, and with Tank, if you sign.”

    At the end of the session, Izzi wasn’t quite sure what she had gotten from the three players, but they seemed interested. Now it was time to see how things played out; if they went to the Draft ranks, then they would be lost in this route. However, if she had done a good job selling the Senators as the rightful destination for them, then she had done her job. She called back in to the office that she had finished the meeting, and then left the campus.


    TAG: No One
    Trieste and jcgoble3 like this.
  23. Jedi Gunny Yahtzee Host

    Game Host
    Member Since:
    May 20, 2008
    star 8
    Sub-GM Post

    Given how things have shaken out in the Galactic Collegiate Playoffs, here are the changes in draft stock for the players involved.


    Rising Stock:

    Mekmek (Mon Calamari, Female, Midfielder, Dac State University) - Helped lead the Mariners to the Galactic title, and could easily have been named MVP.

    Grayporrin (Wookiee, Male, Half Back, University of Kashyyyk) - Was a part of the U of K team that barely lost out on the Galactic title. Other than that game, helped anchor the strongest defense in the galaxy during the playoffs.

    Ken Zetter (Human, Male, Full Back, Druckenwell Technical University) - Helped DTU get to the Final Four before losing to the University of Kashyyyk, 40-10. Although he had a bad game there, he was otherwise solid all season.

    Rhona Caspar (Human, Female, Corner Forward, Brentaal College of Commerce) - Sparked a BCC offense that rolled over Chandrila A&M in the Super 16 title, leading BCC to their first league title in ages. Could surprise come draft day as a late-round steal.


    Falling Fast:

    Shae Bellweather (Human, Female, Half Forward, UC Bella Vistal) - Helmsman nominee struggled in the Super 16 playoffs, and her play looked questionable. Teams looking for field IQ be warned, because she may need some work.

    Niskat Deenever (Human, Female, Half Forward, UBSD) - Shaky decision-making in the endgame of the Carnation Bowl loss makes us question her late-game intangibles.

    Nefroq Vubbins (Mon Calamari, Female, Corner Back, Coruscant Air Fleet Academy) - Became injured in a pickup game, so that will affect her come training camp time.


    TAG: @Trieste, @Vehn, @Bardan Jusik, @jcgoble3, @JM_1977, @Runjedirun, @CPL_Macja
    Last edited by Jedi Gunny, Jun 25, 2013
  24. Vehn Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 14, 2009
    star 4
    IC: Kaitlyn Vehn
    Conference Room 209A, New Vertica, Nar Shaddaa







    The Long Way Back

    “You’ve tested the free agent market, Sasha. You know nobody wants you and we know what the value is of veterans such as yourself who ride the accolades of stars greater than themselves. Sign your contract,” Kaitlyn said as she slid a piece of flimsi across the table to the Bothan athlete who had been Meredith Chambers’ right hand gal.

    “You let all the other older veterans go who made this team great. You expect me to sign for the veteran minimum? No thanks! I could walk out right now and land a contract with Bakura or Coruscant in a heartbeat,” Sasha rebutted.

    “And yet you did walk out and nobody called. The league has changed, Sasha. Veterans aren’t being taken care of the way they used to be. It’s in your best interest to sign now or you may be the one without a job next season,” Kaitlyn said.

    “And why should I sign now? The previous ownership gave Meredith a damn fine deal to retire a Smuggler. I want the same!” Sasha demanded.

    Kaitlyn’s lip curled in a barely perceptible smile. “How many awards have you won, Sasha? How many fans buy your jersey? How many times were you the one who made the game clenching save? I will explain this to you one more time. Veterans are being dumped right now for younger, faster, and arguably more talented players. We are being more than generous here. If you leave, we will not call again.”

    Sasha recoiled a bit. She had never been treated this way. And yet, deep down, she knew how long the free agent list had become, filled with players who had been tossed into the unemployment black hole, the road towards an early exit from the league.

    This was her chance to continue to play the game, to help her team, and keep getting paid a decent salary. Her furry hand graced the flimsi in front of her. A one year contract to prove that she still had something left in the tank. A one year contract that put some distance between her and a life without Limmie.

    “And at the end of this contract, am I up for an extension?” Sasha asked.

    “You do well for us and we’ll do well by you,” Vehn replied.

    Sasha signed.

    “Welcome back to Nar Shaddaa, Sasha Luy’kin,” Kaitlyn purred as she shook the hand of the veteran defensive back.

    “Thank you for taking me back, Ms. Vehn,” Sasha replied, totally beaten.

    Sasha left leaving Kaitlyn and Tover Micjaa alone in the conference room examining the cityscape before them.

    “You’re vicious, Vehn,” Micjaa said.

    “Not vicious, Tover, just very clear in what I want,” Kaitlyn replied.

    “You finish filling out the coaching staff?” Kaitlyn asked.

    “I’ve got some men lined up but wanted to run a few things by you, first,” Tover said as he slid a portfolio to Kaitlyn.

    Kaitlyn took one look at the people recommended to fill the offensive and defensive coordinator positions and looked up at Tover who simply stared his boss directly in the eyes. He knew he had sold her.

    “Let’s take a little trip, shall we?”




    New Vertica High School, Limmie Practice

    [IMG]

    “Looking great, offense, keep the pressure up!” John Huntington yelled as he patrolled the sidelines of an after-school practice session of the varsity.

    “Make the goalie think, make the goalie think!” Huntington reiterated as he watched one of his star high school players slice the Limmie ball above the goalie for three points. The team cheered, Huntington clapped, whistle tucked tightly in his mouth as he blew it signaling the start of another series.

    “Burn’em up! Come on!” Huntington yelled as he could see his players starting to get gassed. “You want to make the Elite League one day, you’ve got to play harder than that!”

    “And you know all about hard work, don’t you, John?” Kaitlyn Vehn asked as she stood near the man who had led the Smugglers to a Galactic Cup victory in 267 at the age of 37.

    John didn’t even look over as he blew his whistle. “Hit the showers!” He watched his players head off into the locker room, let the whistle drop from his lips, and looked directly into Vehn’s eyes.

    “What do you want?”

    “I’m here to make you an offer,” Vehn said.

    “I don’t want your offers. You’re a snake. You’ve taken the Smugglers and thrown their name into the local landfill! That coaching staff that you fired were like heroes to these kids, role models, and you went and tossed them away like yesterday’s news! Don’t
    you come here looking for help,” Huntington warned.

    “I like what you’ve done with yourself, John,” Tover said as he emerged from behind a set of bleachers.

    John looked at Tover, recognized him from their playing days, one man a former Patriot, the other man a former Smuggler. They had fought their share of battles.

    “Tover,” John said. “You in bed with this woman?” He jerked his head toward Kaitlyn.

    Tover looked at his boss, gave a slightly imperceptible shake of the head, a signal to shut the hell up, and responded, “Do I look like I’m fooling around?”

    “But how can you be working for her?” John protested.

    “Get over yourself, John. Everoux and those men would’ve been fired anyway by the previous owner. Kaitlyn just shot the elephant in the room, that’s all. Those heroes you played for, they had their time. This is our time. Now, I’m going to make this real easy on you because I can tell you’ve got a lot of pressing needs with a high school limmie team. I’m only going to ask once. We want you to come join us on the Smugglers coaching staff, offensive coordinator, good pay, benefits, a chance to pursue another trophy,” Micjaa said.

    “I’ll never sell my soul,” John replied.

    “Nobody is asking you to. All I want is your smarts. You report to me, not her, understand? We work as a team, we can really build something special,” Micjaa said.

    John looked at the high school, looked back at Tover, and then extended his gaze to Kaitlyn. He could use the money. He had a growing family to provide for and a high school coach’s salary sucked. He had missed Six Boroughs, any player who had ever played for the organization and experienced the pinnacle of the league had that feeling.

    “Who else you got?” John asked.

    “Meredith Chambers for goalkeepers coach and we’re still looking at our options for defense,” Micjaa said.

    “Good woman, plays her heart out. I get full control over the plays that are drawn up, got that? You building a young team, a hungry team?” John asked.

    Tover nodded. “Once a Smuggler…” he began, knew he had John sold.

    “Always a Smuggler,” John repeated as he extended a hand to Tover.

    “Welcome aboard, John,” Tover said.

    John took a long look at Kaitlyn before responding, “I’ve missed Six Boroughs.”

    “We know,” Tover replied.




    Valor Foundation, Rehab Center

    [IMG]

    “I’ve struggled with an addiction with alcohol for years,” the grizzled man said to a class of recovering alcoholics. “I had the money, I had the fame, and I squandered it on booze. I had a chance to make something great of myself and I threw it all away. I even got a second chance and couldn’t deliver the title to Nar Shaddaa, the team that I loved.”

    “But then I found the Valor Foundation and they really helped me get through some tough times. I cleaned my act up, found work, and eventually fell into helping others with a similar problem. I became a drugs-addiction counselor a few years ago and love seeing people go from despair to hope, to believing that life could be a wonderful experience.”

    “I just wanted to say—“ the older gentlemen stopped his speech as Kaitlyn Vehn and Tover Micjaa strode in through the door.

    “Turn to page 11 in your handbooks. Excuse me for one moment,” the man said as he stepped to one side of the room.

    “May I help you?” the man asked with a smile.

    “Yes, you may,” Kaitlyn said. “My name is Kaitlyn Vehn, I’m the owner of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers.”

    The man’s smile fell away to muted depression. He looked back at his students who were casually flipping through the book, joking around, not really taking this first day of rehab seriously.

    “I want nothing to do with the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers,” the man said.

    “Not even if it meant a sizeable donation to the Valor Foundation?” Vehn pressed.

    “Oh, you play pretty hard, lady,” the man responded.

    “So did your defenses at one point,” Tover said.

    “That was a long time ago. The game has changed,” the man said.

    “But you are still a student of the game and in fact I seem to remember that you fathered many of the defensive schemes used in the league today,” Micjaa said.

    “I gave up professional sports a long time ago,” the man said with a wistful tone to his voice.

    “What if professional sports, what if young players entering the league, needed a steady hand and a man who knew what it took to build a contender?” Vehn asked.

    “I find satisfaction in what I am doing here,” the man protested.

    “Think of the lives you could impact by helping young athletes stay on the straight and narrow. To learn all that you know about defensive schemes, how to change the game, how to truly make a difference across the entire moon,” Micjaa said.

    The man looked at his students once more. His eyes seemed to grow distant. Yes, he was remembering the cheers of Six Boroughs stadium, the feelings of victory washing over him, the joys of triumphing over evil on and off the pitch. But he also remembered the darker days. The days of anger, frustration, of a squad that wanted nothing to do with him, of the media who tore him apart, of the coaching staff that ultimately sent him packing. Of his long and depressing battle with alcohol that began again after his brief tenure. But to make a difference beyond the neighborhood that the Valor Foundation was built upon? That was something truly special. That was true greatness, changing lives, one game at a time.

    “I need one guarantee,” the man requested.

    “Anything,” Vehn said.

    “I can’t have someone micro-managing me, the pressure, gets to be too great,” the man replied, a haunted look in his eyes.

    “I would never do such a thing,” Micjaa said.

    “Do we have a deal?” Vehn pressed.

    “We do,” the man said shaking both Vehn and Micjaa’s hands.

    “Welcome home, Konrad Dvorak.”

    The pieces were in place. The Smugglers were ready to begin again. A rebirth was happening. And though success may not come overnight, Kaitlyn Vehn was confident the pieces she had put in place would go on to do great things for the organization in time.

    The Smugglers were on the rise once more. She imagined the fires from the riots that would ensue if they won a record tenth Galactic Cup during this coaching staff’s tenure.

    Yes, let the fires burn.

    Tag: No One
    Last edited by Vehn, Jun 25, 2013
  25. Trieste Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    GM Post
    Rythani Center, Ryell, Rydonni Prime

    [IMG]

    "Gentlebeings, welcome to the 274 Elite League Draft!" Niakara Kayl'hen declared from the stage set up inside Rythani Center. Before her were eight tables, one for each of the draft teams, in two rows of four with a central aisle between them. Banners for all twelve Elite League teams hung from the ceiling of the hall. Stands of seating for the fans had been set up to accomodate beings of all shapes and sizes who had journeyed to the Core to find out who would be the next stars for their favorite teams. These fans were currently cheering, for the draft was about to begin.

    To either side of the Commissioner were large vidscreens that could be viewed throughout the hall. On one side was the draft order, up-to-date with all of the latest trades. On the other was the Elite League shield.

    "Today the brightest young stars of the sport of limmie will be drafted into the League and begin what we hope will be careers of great athletic achievement with our member teams," Kayl'hen said, "The holder of the first overall pick is the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. They are now on the clock."

    The Elite League shield was replaced by the Smugglers' skull and blasters logo and the chrono started counting down on their pick.

    TAG: @Vehn
    CPL_Macja, Vehn and Bardan_Jusik like this.
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